Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types

Relationships:

Luca Haas & Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Troy Barrett/Harris Drover, Luca Haas & Shane Hollander, Scott Hunter & Ilya Rozanov, Kip Grady/Scott Hunter, Troy Barrett & Ilya Rozanov, Luca Haas/Young

Characters:

Luca Haas, Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander, Zane Boodram, Wyatt Hayes, Troy Barrett, Harris Drover, Brandon Wiebe, Yuna Hollander, David Hollander, Young (Game Changers), LaPointe (Game Changers), Nick Chouinard, Evan Dykstra, Hayden Pike, Ottawa Centaurs Team Ensemble (Game Changers), Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Kip Grady

Additional Tags:

Found Family, Spoilers for Book 6: The Long Game (Game Changers), Book 6: The Long Game (Game Changers), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Luca Haas Lives With Ilya Rozanov, Luca basically gets adopted by Ilya and Shane, chosen family, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Autism, Anxiety, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Violence, Depression, Demisexuality, Soft Ilya Rozanov, Luca Haas-centric, POV Luca Haas, Luca Haas Needs a Hug, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, basically if Rachel Reid wrote book 7 about Luca Haas, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Accidental Child Acquisition, the child is a 19 year old professional hockey player, no beta we die like men

Language:

English

Series:

Part 1 of Growing Outward Series

Stats:

Published: 2026-01-30 Completed: 2026-09-17 Words: 183,495 Chapters: 36/36

Growing Outward

Summary

“Good, well then that brings me to the real topic of conversation.” Another sigh from Coach Wiebe, “As I’m sure you’ve already guessed, those highlighted names have been offered rookie contracts and they’ve each expressed interest in living with a vet for their first year.”

Ilya felt his heart fall into his stomach, afraid of the next words to come out of his Coach’s mouth.

“We asked the rookies who they’d like to live with and, well, LaPointe wanted to board with you, Chouinard. And Young with you, Bood,” Wiebe then turned to Ilya who had frozen on the spot, “And Roz, Haas wants to live with you.”

Bood and Chouinard chuckled as they watched Ilya’s eyes widen in horror.

 

OR

 

Luca Haas was drafted 2nd overall by the Ottawa Centaurs in 2018. Two years later, he anxiously moved halfway across the world to play his rookie season with the team. He requested to live with Ilya Rozanov and they slowly became family.

Notes

I saw someone mention this idea on TikTok and, well, I couldn't stop thinking about it. So... I wrote my first fic in 10+ years. I'm coming out of retirement!!!

Hope everyone enjoys! Please let me know if I'm doing tags/warnings wrong on here :)

Chapter 1: The Proposition

Ottawa, September 2020

“Thanks for coming in early, guys,” Coach Wiebe sighed as the three large men walked into his office, “Take a seat.” 

He motioned to the two seats in front of his desk. Ilya graciously let Bood and Chouinard take their seats as he perched himself on the edge of a desk against the wall, arms folded across his chest. Wiebe fell back into the large leather chair behind his desk which was covered in loose papers. He wiped a tired hand over his face.

“Training camp taken a lot out of ya, Coach?” Bood joked with a wide grin. 

“Something like that.” Wiebe chuckled.

Ilya scanned his Coach’s face, at the eyebags that were taking shape under his eyes. He was a young guy, maybe mid 40s, but over the past couple years, Ilya thought he’d aged at least a decade. Running a losing team wasn’t for the weak and building it into what it was now was even harder. Ilya shared that sentiment, having been with the Centaurs for the past two seasons. He hoped his own stress wasn’t manifesting in the same way it had been for his Coach.

“But it went well, no?” Chouinard piped up in his smooth accent. It was a sound Ilya never seemed to get used to even though he was an Ottawa resident surrounded by French speakers.

“Yes, very well actually. We’ve got some good young talent,” Wiebe shuffled some of the papers on his desk until he came across the one that he was looking for. He held it out to Ilya who took it cautiously. His eyes never left his Coach who was looking for something else on his desk. He found a pen under a stack of papers that he began fiddling with.

Ilya scanned the page of rookie names that had been invited to this year’s training camp. He settled on the three names that were highlighted in an aggressive yellow colour; the same names he would’ve highlighted if he’d been asked.

“What did you guys think?” Coach clasped his hands on the desk in front of him. His eyes drifted over to where Ilya sat silently reading over the list. Bood and Chouinard looked over at Ilya patiently, not wanting to speak before their captain.

“Da, was good.” Ilya shrugged simply and let the page rest on the table beside him, “I think that Young will be good center. Will maybe give Dillon some support on second line.” Wiebe chuckled at that, fully aware of Ilya’s frustration with Tanner Dillon’s skills on the first line.

Bood reached over to grab the page Ilya had placed beside him and scanned it. Chouinard peered over his shoulder out of curiosity. 

“Yeah I thought LaPointe was strong, could use some mentorship under Chouinard, here, but he’ll be good down the line.” Bood expressed with a small smile. He leaned over to nudge Chouinard in the ribs who grinned back, having taken a real liking to the younger Quebecois player. A player that Ilya figured reminded the burly defensemen of himself at that age.

“And Haas?” Wiebe asked with his eyes on Ilya again. 

Ilya pursed his lips in thought for a moment. Luca Haas was good. Very good. He remembered him from training camp a couple years before, the second overall draft pick in his draft class. Ilya distinctly remembered being shocked when Haas hadn’t made the official roster, but Wiebe had said something about the kid needing time to mature, and who was Ilya to question his coach in his first few weeks as a Centaur?

“He’s promising.” Ilya simply said, not wanting to get his hopes up, even though he had watched him throughout training camp and had already decided he would make a much better right winger than Dillon. Wiebe silently took in his words. He studied Ilya’s face for a moment before leaning back in his creaky chair.

“Good, well then that brings me to the real topic of conversation.” Another sigh, “As I’m sure you’ve already guessed, those highlighted names have been offered rookie contracts and they’ve each expressed interest in living with a vet for their first year.”

Ilya felt his heart fall into his stomach, afraid of the next words to come out of his Coach’s mouth.

“We asked the rookies who they’d like to live with and, well, LaPointe wanted to board with you, Chouinard. And Young with you, Bood,” Wiebe then turned to Ilya who had frozen on the spot, “And Roz, Haas wants to live with you.”

Bood and Chouinard chuckled as they watched Ilya’s eyes widen in horror.

The other two guys seemed happy with this news, but Ilya? Not so much. It made sense for LaPointe, who had been speaking French freely with Chouinard since the first day of camp, to want to live with him. And Bood was the team’s cheerleader who went out of his way to make sure everyone felt comfortable, both on the ice and in the locker room. But Ilya? That one was more shocking.

Sure, he was the team captain and brought energy to the locker room, but he was also a big, scary Russian guy who often stumbled through English words unless he was chirping someone on the ice. He’d tried to show the rookies kindness over their time at training camp but that often came in the form of redirection or a joking dig that would hopefully light a fire under their ass. He hadn’t attended much of training camp that year as he had other commitments ahead of pre-season; some professional and others conveniently in a condo in Montreal. 

Even when he was at training camp, he was more focussed on chatting with his teammates about their summers, often evading questions about his own with a simple, “Spent it at the cottage. Needed a break.” That hadn’t elicited any real follow-up questions from the guys.

More than that, Ilya had one big fucking secret that, if it were to get out to anyone, well who knows what would happen. He didn’t even want to think about what Shane would say about a rookie infiltrating their sacred space. 

Amidst Ilya’s silence Bood spoke up, “I’d have to run it by Cassie but I’m sure she’ll be fine with it.”

“Same with Selena, what’s one more kid in the house?” Nick joked, clearly thinking about his three young kids who would be joined by another, much taller one.

“Roz?” Wiebe’s steady voice brought Ilya’s rambling thoughts to an abrupt stop. He wondered if this is what Shane experienced everyday. If it was, it was pretty fucking exhausting.

He looked around the room at the three men who were waiting on him to finally say something.

“Can I think about it?” Was all he managed to say. He saw something flicker behind Wiebe’s eyes. Bood’s shoulders deflated a bit and Chouinard simply stared at him, a hint of pity flashing across his face, which he tried and failed to hide. 

“C’mon, Roz, it’ll be fun!” Chouinard recovered, reassuringly.

“It’ll be like playing house.” Bood reached out a hand to squeeze his forearm which was still wrapped across his chest protectively, “Plus your place is so big you’ll probably never see the kid anyways.” 

Ilya hardly thought so.

“Can I give you an answer tomorrow?” Ilya ignored his teammates. Wiebe sent him a soft smile.

“Of course. I can always ask one of the other guys, it’s really not a big deal.” Ilya appreciated the sentiment and stood up from the desk.

“Is that everything, or did you want to talk about how to improve Dillon’s backhand?” He tried to alleviate the tension in the room with the cheap shot. The men around him entertained it with a laugh, which Ilya appreciated, even if it was an obvious and weak attempt at changing the subject. 

“No, I think I’ve got it from here. Thanks, guys!” 

Wiebe shook each of their hands as they filed out of the room. He held onto Ilya’s a little longer as the other two guys left the room. They were joking around about how Chouinard would be able to afford diapers for his newborn baby and all of the extra food he would need to feed his new 6’0 baby. Ilya waited til they rounded the corner before he turned back to his Coach. 

“Did he really ask for me?” He hoped he didn’t sound as pathetic to Wiebe as he had to himself when the words escaped him. He knew his Coach wouldn’t hold it against him though.

After decades of keeping his walls up, it didn’t take long for Ilya to feel comfortable with Coach Wiebe. He sometimes thought about telling him the truth, the whole truth, but he would never do that without Shane’s permission and Shane seemingly felt more comfortable moving in silence for the next little while. Ilya wasn’t quite sure how long that “little while” would be but he was just happy to be with Shane; even if that meant only being together behind closed doors. 

Ilya’s heart panged at the thought of this young kid wanting to get to know him better; of trusting Ilya enough to help him get through his first year in the league. He wasn’t quite sure what he did to deserve that responsibility, but it touched Ilya either way. 

“He did.” Wiebe sent him a tight-lipped smile, “But if you don’t want to do this then I can let him down gently for you.”

Ilya sighed and wrapped his arms across his chest protectively, unable to meet his Coach’s sympathetic look.

“Listen, Roz, I think this might be good for you too.” His words came as a surprise, which must’ve reflected on his face, as his Coach quickly continued, “I imagine that house can get quite lonely.”

If only you knew the truth, Ilya thought to himself.

“I’m fine.” Ilya lied through his teeth. He knew that Wiebe saw right through him.

“I know you are.” Wiebe reaffirmed kindly, “But think about this kid, okay? He’s moving across the world at 20 years old to a country that doesn’t speak his language, with no family around him.”

His words hit Ilya harder than he’d expected as he felt a wave of sadness shoot through his chest. He thought back to his younger self who, admittedly, would’ve fared better had he boarded with one of his vets in his first year. He held back a chuckle at the thought of living with Cliff Marlow in his bachelor pad; lots of booze, girls, and who knows what else littered around the place. On second thought, maybe it wouldn’t have been that much better.

Before Ilya could say something, anything, Wiebe continued, “No pressure, Roz. Take the evening to think about it, but I’ve gotta let the kid know tomorrow. They have to be out of the hotel in the next couple of days.”

Ilya nodded with a whisper of a smile on his lips and left Wiebe’s office. He needed to talk to Shane about all of this. This wasn’t a decision he could make alone. 

///

Later that evening Ilya sprawled out on the couch with a small bowl of popcorn at his side. He flicked through channels mindlessly, his attention focussed elsewhere. He tried to recall any and all interactions he’d had with Luca Haas over the past few weeks but came up almost entirely short. He seemed to recall a couple moments when he’d caught the young kid staring at him from across the ice; possibly studying his technique or staring in awe. Anytime he’d tried to chirp the kid he flushed a deep crimson. Ilya smirked at the thought of a much younger Shane who had had the same reaction many times over the years.

As if he wished it into existence, his phone lit up with Shane’s contact. He answered it on the second ring and put it on speaker before laying the phone on his chest.

“Hello, moya lyubov. How are you?” He mumbled with a hint of tiredness in his voice.

“Hey, how was the last day of camp?” Shane sighed into the phone. There were some rustling sounds on the other end of the phone and the click of a door.

“Are you just getting back home?” He tapped his phone to see the time and chuckled at the realization, “So eager to talk to me, huh?”

In Shane’s silence Ilya imagined that same deep crimson rising to his cheeks.

“Whatever,” He huffed, more rustling scratched through the phone before another silence, “My day was great, thank you for asking.”

Ilya chuckled to himself.

“Camp was good. Wiebe pulled a few of us into a meeting.”

“What kind of meeting?” He imagined Shane’s eyebrows knitted together as he asked. Ilya wiped a tired hand over his face and exhaled deeply.

“It was with me, Bood and Chouinard. Rookies took an interest in us, I guess.” He kept his answer vague to get a rise out of Shane, which he succeeded at immediately.

“An interest? What does that even mean?” Shane huffed. Ilya grinned wide.

“Apparently I have a young, hot man who wants to live with me.” He imagined Shane rolling his eyes as he walked through his Montreal apartment.

“I’m not taking the bait, Rozanov.” Shane simply said, “One of the rookies wants to live with you? That's kind of… sweet, I guess?” Ilya huffed at Shane’s cordial response. He could hear the uncertainty in his voice but also the openness he was trying to offer before he knew Ilya’s thoughts on the matter. 

“Da, very sweet. So sweet that I feel horrible for saying no.” His words caught on the syllables harshly as he popped another popcorn kernel into his mouth.

“You already said no?” Shane asked incredulously. 

“I said I would tell them tomorrow.”

“Okay, but you’re going to say no?” Shane let the question hang in the air.

“Do you want me to?” Ilya asked, unsure of himself.

Shane sighed on the other end of the phone and paused for a moment. There was some more rustling, then the sound of a fridge opening, and glass tupperware being set gently on the kitchen counter. If Ilya closed his eyes he could practically see the bland chicken and vegetables Shane had evenly portioned out into separate containers. The slam of a microwave door reaffirmed his vision and he smiled to himself, a small feeling of longing grew in his chest. He would give anything to see Shane right now, even if that meant eating dry chicken and green vegetables for a whole year.

“I think it might be good for you.” Shane finally breathed into the phone. Ilya snapped his eyes open.

“Good? For me?” He tried and failed to maintain an even tone.

“Yeah, I mean we don’t get to see each other very often and I know the distance has been hard.” Shane started kindly, “And, to be honest, I worry about you sometimes.”

“Moye solnyshko,” He groaned into the phone, “You do not need to worry about me. Is fine! Team is good. Your parents have me for dinner all the time. I even convinced Harris to let me watch Chiron when he is filming! Is good. I am good.”

This didn’t convince Shane any more than it had convinced Ilya. He hadn’t told anyone about the deep pit that had settled in his stomach since he drove home from the cottage a month ago. Those hours on the road were spent entirely in silence. Between his teammates' faces during their meeting and Shane’s odd stance on this matter, he was starting to suspect that maybe he hadn’t been so good at hiding it. Shane was quiet on the other end of the phone and Ilya told himself that he just was busy reheating his gross food.

Shane sighed, “Ilya–”

“I barely see you. I do not want young kid around when you are here.” He finally admitted. That response seemed to stump Shane.

“Having this rook move into your house is not going to stop us from seeing one another.” The words did little to comfort Ilya as he sulked at the TV with glossy eyes.

Another sigh, “Ilya?”

“Da?” He responded curtly.

“The decision is yours at the end of the day but I think it would be good for you. Everything else will fall into place, okay?” Shane seemed confident in his words which made Ilya feel a little better, even though he was still hesitant about the idea.

He let himself imagine a world where he didn’t have to hide with Shane. Where the idea of taking a rookie under his wing wasn’t complicated by this double life that he was living. He liked the thought of that world; one where he wasn’t driving to and from practice in silence, where he could focus his attention on helping someone else, where he could introduce Shane, his boyfriend, to a close friend. He smiled to himself at the thought, not letting himself sink any further into the alternate reality, as he asked Shane about his last day at training camp. 

He chuckled at the story about Hayden and JJ competing in a push-up competition in the locker room, and joked how it wouldn’t be much of a competition if he were there. He pictured Shane rolling his eyes at that. The rest of the night was simple and when Ilya went to bed he lay awake thinking about Wiebe’s offer. How it might not be the end of the world to take in this rookie for the year. As he settled into bed he reminded himself that this was a problem for tomorrow and fell into a deep sleep thinking about the cottage.

Chapter 2: A Change of Pace

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, October 2020

“Haas if you keep shaking your leg, I swear to god.” Eric said through gritted teeth. 

Luca abruptly stopped bouncing his leg and turned his head to the floor. He knew Eric wasn’t trying to be mean but he couldn’t help the flush that had risen to his cheeks. He was nervous, terrified really, of what teammate was about to walk through that door and house him for the next 10 months.

“Sorry.” He mumbled more to himself than his two teammates, Eric Young and Julien LaPointe, as they sat in a conference room at their training facility. Their suitcases and practice bags were pushed to the edges of the room as they waited for Coach Wiebe after practice. 

Just a few days prior, once contracts had been sent out and negotiated, Wiebe had asked them where they planned to live for the next year. The boys had all looked at one another, dumbfounded. Luca was just focussed on training camp and was happy to have made the team. He hadn’t thought much about what his living arrangement would look like if he happened to make the team. 

After a few minutes of awkward rambling, Wiebe suggested that maybe they could live with some of the vets; an answer that Luca knew would appease his worried sister back home in Switzerland. The three boys appreciated this idea and started discussing who they’d like to live with.

LaPointe was the first to pipe up. He suggested Chouinard, which surprised no one in the room after witnessing their many, private conversations in French; a language that if anyone else on the team spoke, weren’t fluent enough to keep up. Haas had yet to address them in his own native tongue–even though they suspected he could understand them–as it sounded a bit different from the Québec dialect they were using. 

Then Eric had requested Bood, who Luca might’ve suggested had he thought of it sooner. Bood had by far been the friendliest with them throughout training camp. He always had something supportive to say, even to the guys who would obviously not make the team this year, which Luca had appreciated. 

That was when they turned to Haas for his thoughts. He didn’t know many of the vets well enough to give a solid answer. Before he could stop himself, he suggested that his very own childhood idol, Ilya Rozanov, might be a good fit. That answer seemed to surprise the three men staring back at him but before anyone could talk him out of it, Wiebe agreed to put out some feelers on their behalf.

Great, Luca sarcastically thought to himself. Can’t wait to be rejected by Rozanov before I even have a chance to properly talk to him.

And that’s how Luca found himself bouncing his knee in the quiet conference room. Although he’d forced himself to stop, as per Eric’s request, not wanting to lose a friendship in its early days. Instead he began fumbling with the sleeves of his practice sweater.

The sound of muffled voices from down the hall caught all of their attention, and before they knew it, Coach Wiebe had walked into the room with three tall men behind him; Chouinard, Bood, and Rozanov. Haas tried to hide the shy smile that rose to his face as Ilya found his gaze. He quickly looked away to his Coach who was smiling wide as well. Bood excitedly pushed past Coach and ran over to Eric. He pulled him into a welcoming hug as Eric simply laughed.

“Hé, gamin. C'est à toi, ça ?” Chouinard addressed LaPointe much more calmly with a kind smile. He gestured to the suitcases behind LaPointe as he dapped him up. 

That left Luca and Ilya to stare at one another. Ilya seemed to size him up as he walked over. He was only a bit shorter than the tall Russian man, much to his surprise, having watched Ilya tower over countless players on the ice over the years. Luca wasn’t sure what to do with his hands or what to say so he just waited for Ilya to initiate something. A devilish smile rose to his face as they stood in front of one another.

“So I hear you are big fan?” Ilya greeted him.

 “I–uh, I don’t...” Luca stuttered, looking over his shoulder at the other guys in the room, “Yes? I guess?” He was embarrassed to have admitted that but surely it would’ve come out at some point.

“You guess?” Ilya raised an eyebrow.

“Roz, stop messing with him.” Bood said as he helped Eric gather his bags. The other guys chuckled, even Wiebe, as he looked on fondly at the pair.

Luca turned back to Ilya and cleared his throat.

“Thanks for agreeing to let me live with you. I really appreciate it.” 

He really was grateful and so was his little sister, Sophia, who had practically squealed with excitement when he floated the idea by her earlier that week. If Luca was a big fan of Ilya growing up, he had nothing on his sister, who often joked about marrying the tall Russian man standing in front of him now. Luca tried to push the thought aside as Ilya looked him over once again. The back of his neck grew hot in anticipation.

“I like him.” He called over to Wiebe before turning to help gather some of Luca’s bags. Flustered, Luca picked up the rest and they left the room with a promise that Ilya wouldn’t torment him too much ahead of their first pre-season game the next day.

“You drive?” Ilya asked as they walked through the parking garage. He led them to a black Mercedes SUV. 

“Back home, yes.” He responded carefully. They loaded his bags into the trunk with ease, before Ilya turned to him, another grin on his face.

“Do you want to drive?” He held out the keys in the palm of his hand. Luca’s eyes went wide at the offer. His cheeks flushed and Ilya just laughed as he made his way towards the driver's side. Luca couldn’t tell if he had been joking or not but he quickly walked around to the other side of the car.

“Maybe in future, if you are comfortable.” Luca noted how Ilya’s accent bit down harshly on each of the words. Even though Ilya had lived in North America for over 10 years, Luca noted that his own proficiency with the English language was much better. He pushed the thought aside and climbed into the passenger seat where he was much more comfortable. He clicked his seatbelt into place and felt the hum of the car come to life underneath them.

“What music do you like?” Ilya scrolled through his Spotify as Luca fumbled with the sleeves of his light sweater.

“Uh, I’m good with anything.” He figured that was the safest answer as he tried to steady his heartrate.

“Okay, how about you pick something then?” Ilya pushed his phone into Luca’s hands and started to pull out of the parking garage, “We stop for food. Pizza ok?”

Luca tried to scroll through Ilya’s playlists with shaky hands before he registered his words.

“Yeah, that’s ok.” He agreed and read through some of the playlist names.

Мать Россия🇷🇺

Hot Girl Walk

Boring 

Cottage☀️🦆

Looking through Ilya’s music felt like looking into the most intimate parts of his brain; parts that Luca didn’t feel comfortable understanding just yet. Even though his captain seemed fine with it, Luca tried not to linger for too long before he pressed shuffle on a random EDM mix that had been recommended on Ilya’s homepage. He didn’t even like EDM. He was more of a pop guy, but he wasn’t about to play Lady Gaga in a car with Ilya Rozanov, so he settled on this. The subtle beat started to play through Ilya’s speakers and he bopped his head along as they drove.

“Ah, I should have guessed EDM. You are Swedish, yes?” His eyes flicked over to where Luca stared straight ahead at the road. He nervously fumbled with his sleeves.

“Swiss.” Luca corrected politely. 

It wasn’t the first time someone had guessed he was Swedish; a common misconception amongst ignorant, albeit harmless, North Americans. He’d chatted briefly with another vet, Holmberg, about it when they met a few weeks ago. They joked that if they spoke in gibberish they could probably convince some of the guys that they shared a language. Luca smiled at the memory as they merged onto the highway towards another part of the city.

“Swiss.” Ilya murmured more to himself than Luca. He hesitated before he continued, “How do you like Canada?”

Luca pursed his lips as he watched the trees pass them by. Some of them had started to turn different colours which reminded him of home. He liked Canada so far. The people were kind, the weather was still good, and he could picture himself living there for a while. But it wasn’t home.

“It’s nice.” He offered. 

Ilya chuckled, “Da, is nice.” 

///

“Welcome home!” Ilya said. He dramatically outstretched one of his arms to his home as he took a step inside. The other carefully cradled two pizza boxes they had stopped for on the way home.

He held the door open for Haas as he walked through. His jaw fell open as he took the place in. Ilya smiled to himself and he clicked the door shut behind them. Haas froze in the front entryway and watched as Ilya kicked off his shoes and slipped on one of the two pairs of slides on the rack. Haas didn’t ask about the other pair as he slipped off his own sneakers and neatly placed them on the bottom of the rack. 

“Okay so through here is the kitchen,” Ilya said casually as he led the younger boy into the house. He plopped the boxes on the kitchen island before he turned to the living room, “TV and games are here, dining room through there. Ah, and office. Which I do not use but you can.” He began pointing out each of the spaces as Haas cautiously scanned the space.

“Gym is downstairs, you can use it whenever. Pool and hot tub are outside, obviously.” He chuckled as he motioned out the back windows and walked over to the staircase, “Rooms are upstairs, come.” 

Haas tentatively followed him, jogging a bit to catch up. Ilya noticed Haas staring at the memorabilia he’d hung on the walls beside the staircase; his Boston Bears jersey from his final game, the puck from his first ever goal, and even a photo with a few of the Centaurs guys who came to cheer him on at the All Star game the year before. There was also a large photo of the sunset from his first summer at the cottage but Haas didn’t question why it sat with other keepsakes of his. Ilya silently appreciated that.

Once he reached the landing at the top of the stairs he turned towards the hallway on the right and opened the door at the end of the hall. He’d chosen the biggest guest room he had for Haas’ bedroom. It also helped that it was the one that was furthest from his own room. Ilya walked in and turned around to catch Haas’ expression as he stood in the doorway. The look on his face was priceless when he saw the size of the room. Ilya bit back a smile.

“I hope it will be nice enough for you.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets as Haas took another step into the room. It had a king-sized bed, a large dresser, and a glass desk tucked neatly into the corner. It was pretty bare, most of the decorations a neutral colour, but it was something.

“This is perfect,” Haas replied breathlessly, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. You are Centaurs family now.” He nudged the kid’s shoulder as he walked to the other side of the room, “This is your, how do you say–”

“Ensuite?” Haas replied in a smooth accent, unable to stop himself.

Ilya smiled, “Da, ensuite.” He mimicked Haas’ accent which got the younger boy to crack a smile, “Walk-in closet is over there. You get the idea.”

Haas gulped as he tried to take in his new surroundings. At what would be his room for the next little while. Ilya smiled softly, remembering his own nervousness in his first few weeks with the league. Although he’d managed it quite well publicly, he remembered many days when he sat alone in his apartment, fighting down the troubling thoughts that he couldn’t get out of his brain. 

“We can change whatever, ok?” He offered. Haas abruptly shook his head.

“No, no. This is great as it is.”

Ilya sighed and walked over to place a hand on the kid’s shoulder. Haas tensed a bit under his touch.

“Whatever you need, just ask. Paint, throw pillows, I do not care. Will make it happen.” Ilya hoped that his even tone brought his rookie some comfort. Haas met his eyes and Ilya nodded once, reassuringly. That elicited a small smile from him.

“Now we eat. Before pizza is cold.” 

They returned to the living area, stacked their plates high with food, and watched an old episode of How I Met Your Mother as they ate in comfortable silence. Ilya watched Haas out of the corner of his eye and felt a little more relaxed every time he laughed at the show. When his phone buzzed in his pocket, he took it out to find a message from Shane.

Shane: How’s it going?

Ilya: Good. I think he’s going to like it here.

Shane: Of course he will. I hope you will too.

Ilya smiled to himself and returned his attention to the episode. Maybe this wouldn’t be half bad after all.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you to everyone who has left a kudos or comment so far! I really didn't expect anyone to read this so your support means a lot :)

Chapter 3: Growing Pains

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, October 2020

Luca’s first night in Ilya’s home went better than he expected. He managed to get most of his stuff put away in the closet, he arranged a couple of framed photos from home on the dresser, and even tucked his childhood teddy bear under his pillow. He didn't want to risk Ilya seeing it in the event that he walked into his room unannounced. 

He woke early the next morning and started his gameday routine. Even though it was only a preseason game, Luca wanted to get into some sort of routine ahead of the regular season. He changed into his Centaurs workout gear and made his way down to the gym, an old pair of sneakers in hand.

He wasn’t quite sure what to expect but whatever it was, it wasn’t this. The lights immediately glowed to life as he stepped foot in the gym. Ilya seemed to have every possible machine you could ever need arranged tidily around the room. 

A low whistle escaped his lips. He could get used to this.

Luca slipped on his sneakers and popped in his earbuds as he stepped onto the treadmill. He started slowly to get his muscles loose and, after checking the time, facetimed his sister. Sophia’s face popped up on his phone only a few seconds later. She was wearing her school uniform and, based on the whiteboard covered in equations behind her, it looked like she was sitting in one of the many study rooms at his old school. 

She immediately greeted him in French and asked how he was. It was a welcome break from all of the English he’d been speaking lately. Maybe he needed to take Chouinard and LaPointe up on their multiple attempts to speak his native tongue with him. Even if it resulted in some light teasing back and forth about which dialect was correct. 

“Wait, where are you?” Sophia brought her face closer to the camera in an attempt to see his background better. He lifted his phone and panned it around the room with a stupid grin on his face. He looked like a little kid in a candy shop, but in this case the candy was thousands of dollars worth of the best workout equipment in the world.

“It’s Ilya’s home gym. I’m just warming up.” He plopped the phone back down on the console in front of him and increased the speed on the treadmill so that he could start a light jog.

“Oh yeah because a home gym is totally normal. I don’t think our school gym is even that nice.” She joked. Luca had already sent her photos of his new room and she’d matched his excitement over how nice it was. He made a mental note to send her photos of the rest of the house later on. 

“How are midterms?” He asked.

She groaned, “They’re kicking my ass.”

Luca grinned down at the camera, “I highly doubt that.” 

Sophia was a genius. She was a senior in high school and looking at some of the best medical programs in Europe. Selfishly Luca wished she would consider schools in North America but he wouldn’t pull her away from home the same way he had been. Luca knew deep down that she could easily go to any school she wanted to. That sentiment was only solidified by their parents' choice to send them to a world-renowned private school. 

His parents were successful business people which meant that their attention was drawn elsewhere growing up. Luca knew his parents loved him, really, but sometimes he wished they loved him enough to just be there. The busyness of school and the extra curricular activities they were enrolled in were supposed to make up for their parent’s absence at the dinner table. Sometimes it did. That’s where hockey came in to play for Luca, but when he got a little too good at it, he quickly noticed the way his parents hadn’t been as supportive as his friends’ families were. They only came to the MLH draft after a big fight; one where Luca had yelled at them for the first time. He felt uncomfortable thinking about it even two years later.

Deep down, Luca wondered if his parents were disappointed that he never went to university. He silently hoped that his sister’s future success would be enough for the both of them. Sophia clearly felt the weight of that as she studied for her midterms with the severity of a drill sergeant.

She sighed over the phone, “Anyways, how are you feeling about tonight?”

“I’m a bit nervous.” He admitted. She sent him a sympathetic smile.

“You’re going to be amazing. And it’s only a pre-season game so there’s less pressure. Think of it as a practice or a scrimmage.” Luca felt his shoulders settle a bit at her words. She always knew how to talk him down and he felt increasingly grateful that he’d decided to call her. He’d have to make this a part of his pre-game routine moving forward.

Sophia suddenly leaned in closer to the phone. Her eyes widened.

“Is that who I think it is?”

Luca furrowed his brows as he looked down at his tiny icon in the top right corner of the screen. Sure enough, he saw Ilya stretching on the mats behind him. He nearly tripped over his own feet on the treadmill.

“Yes, it is.” He was suddenly glad they were speaking in French so that Ilya couldn’t understand him. He wasn’t sure how much he’d overheard so he cleared his throat, “Okay, Sophia, I gotta go. Love you!”

“Love you too, and say hi to him for me.” She smiled cheekily before Luca hung up on her. He slowed the speed on the treadmill until he came to a stop. He took a deep breath and spun on his heel to face Ilya.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” He said sheepishly as he removed an earbud.

“Is okay. Who was that?” Ilya asked from the floor.

“Oh, just my sister, Sophia. She, uh–she says hi.” Luca smiled.

Ilya chuckled under his breath but didn’t say anything else, just continued stretching. Luca took that as his sign to leave. 

Ilya had ordered groceries the night before and had even bought some of Luca’s favourite things. It had taken quite a lot for Ilya to get Luca to tell him what he wanted, as he didn’t want to be a burden. But when Ilya threatened to only buy chicken and green vegetables, Luca quickly obliged. Something told Luca that the threat was empty, especially now that he could see the sugary cereals tucked away in the pantry.

He quickly made himself a cup of tea and began cooking some eggs when Ilya rounded the corner. He was shirtless which, on top of his presence, startled Luca. He averted his eyes and silently hoped that Ilya couldn’t see the blush that had risen to his cheeks. Out of the corner of his eye, Ilya cocked his head to the side.

“You wear glasses?” 

Luca snapped his head over to Ilya who was leaning against the island now, his arms crossed over his chest. Luca reached a hand up to fumble with his glasses. 

“Yeah. But only off the ice, obviously.” He stammered. Ilya chuckled.

“Yes, I figured. Would be bad if you wore them on the ice.”

Luca smiled to himself. 

“Do you want some?” He motioned to the eggs as he scooped them onto a plate of toast he’d already made.

“No, no. You eat.” Ilya shuffled over to the coffee maker and started measuring out coffee beans. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Ilya reached into the cupboard and grabbed a mug covered in cartoon puppies. It was a bit faded, clearly well loved, and Luca smiled down at his food.

Luca cleared out of the way and pulled out a stool at the island. In between bites of his food, he watched Ilya work around the kitchen. It was so odd to see his childhood idol in such a domestic setting. He forgot he was staring until Ilya spoke again, his back still turned as he cracked his own eggs over the pan.

“How did you sleep?”

Luca carefully took a sip of his tea, “Like a baby.”

Ilya smiled to himself, “Good. You will need it for today.” 

It almost sounded like a threat but Luca convinced himself it was just the nature of Ilya’s accent, which he was still getting used to.

“So,” Luca tried to carry on the conversation, “I was thinking maybe we should talk about like, rent? Or groceries? Utilities? I don’t know.” 

“You want to pay rent?” Ilya cocked an eyebrow.

The coffee machine spluttered behind him as he turned to face Luca.

Luca shrugged, “I mean, yes?”

“Yes?” Ilya challenged. Luca wiped his palms nervously along his sweatpants. He forced himself to take another bite of his toast to feign some sort of confidence with the conversation. He didn’t think it had convinced Ilya anymore than it convinced himself, which is to say, not at all.

“I just don’t think it’s fair for me to live here without paying you.” Luca concluded. 

“I can afford it.” Ilya shrugged as he flipped his eggs, “No big deal.”

“Okay, well once I get paid I can also afford it. So, I would like to pay something.” He was shocked by the nerve in his own tone and quickly brought his mug to his lips as Ilya turned around slowly to look at him. Ilya scanned his eyes, as if trying to pick apart his brain piece by piece, and then nodded once.

“I think we should get you a financial advisor.” He said as if it was the most appropriate thing to say at the moment, “I will set up a call with mine. Get you some investments and savings, and then we can talk again.” The confidence in his tone made Luca feel better, even if it isn’t what he wanted to hear. Somehow he didn’t think there would be another conversation about this.

“Now eat, put on nice clothes, and meet at the car in one hour.” 

With that, Ilya took his food and coffee into the living room, leaving Luca only with his thoughts.

///

The game went about as smooth as Ilya had assured Luca it would. They beat Buffalo 2-0. As soon as Haas entered the locker room he felt himself relax. He was glad to get the game over with and felt happy with his performance. He hadn’t scored but he had gotten an assist off of Ilya’s goal; he couldn’t quite explain the euphoria he felt when Ilya immediately rushed to hug him on the ice. His face still hurt from smiling so wide. 

After the game, Ilya declared that they would be going to a local pub, Monks, to celebrate. Luca hadn’t agreed to this beforehand but it was still early in the night and he appreciated an opportunity to get to know some of his teammates better off the ice. That’s how he found himself tucked into a booth with Eric and LaPointe, a basket of half-eaten fries sitting in between them. He nursed an empty beer bottle in his hand as he leaned in closer to Eric, who was telling them about his living situation with Bood and his wife, Cassie.

“And then she offered to meal prep for me? I felt bad but I’m not going to turn her down.” Eric laughed.

“It was the same with me! Except Selena has 3 other kids to look after, so I’m absolutely not asking her for anything if I can help it.” LaPointe said with an incredulous look.

Luca watched on as some of their teammates played pool beside them. He met Ilya’s gaze as Hayes was talking away beside him. Ilya raised his eyebrow slightly as if asking him, You good? Luca tipped his beer bottle back and Ilya smiled before he turned his full attention to Hayes again. He appeared to be in a deep discussion about the Spiderverse. Luca chuckled to himself.

“What’s it like for you, Haasy?” Eric nudged him. Luca snapped his head back to the two boys who stared at him from across the booth.

“Oh um, it’s good. Roz’s house is huge and he has a lot of nice cars. He asked me if I wanted to drive the Mercedes.” He chuckled nervously. 

“No way!” LaPointe laughed, “What did you say?”

“No, obviously. Haasy would be too nervous.” Eric joked. Luca rolled his eyes but didn’t correct him. 

“I think I’m going to get another beer, do you guys want anything?” 

Luca shuffled out of the sticky booth, he needed a few moments to himself. His teammates dove into a new conversation about what cars they would buy if they had all the money in the world, which didn't seem so unrealistic to Luca now, as so he walked over to the bar. He turned to lean one of his forearms against it as he waited for the bartender. The loud music and chatter of the bar combined with the humidity of the bodies around him did little to ease the anxiety that was growing in his gut. 

Luca took a few deep breaths as his eyes scanned the room. There was Bood, jumping excitedly beside his pool partner, Dykstra, who was about to win the game for them. Ilya loomed over the tall defensemen’s shoulder, chirping something into his ear in an attempt to throw him off. Luca chuckled to himself. 

“Haven’t seen you around before.” Luca turned towards the voice, unsure if the girl a few feet away was talking to him. When he looked a bit unsure she continued, “Yeah, you.”

“Oh uh, I’m new to town.” He answered earnestly. He turned to order another beer from the bartender as the girl came closer. She was pretty, Luca had to admit, as he caught a glimpse of her bright green eyes.

“I like your accent. Where are you from?” She asked with a kind smile.

“Switzerland.” He offered and thanked the bartender as he tapped his card on the machine, unable to meet the girl’s curious gaze. 

“So what brings you to Ottawa? School?” She asked. 

Luca could barely hear her over the loud music playing so leaned in a bit closer to her. His eyes landed on his teammates as she asked the question. Hayes had nudged Ilya to get his attention as a few of them watched him with smug smiles. Ilya had the widest smile of them all once he realized what was happening. A flush rose to Luca's cheeks and he averted his eyes. The anxiety in his gut bloomed even more. 

“I’m sorry. I, uh–my friends are waiting on me.” He said politely and gestured to his teammates. She followed his eyes to the other side of the room. The guys quickly turned away and returned to their game which, based on the empty pool table, Dykstra and Bood had already won. 

He shot the girl an apologetic smile and walked back over to his teammates. As he neared the pool table again, Dykstra threw an arm around him.

“Atta boy, Rook. Did you get her number?” He shook the nervous boy. He chuckled nervously down at the beer in his hand. 

“Give him a break, Dykstra.” Ilya called over. Luca met his eyes with a shy smile, which Ilya returned.

“Gotta keep an eye on this one, Roz. If you’re not careful you might have a lot of unwanted guests at your house this season.” Bood clapped a firm hand on Ilya’s shoulder. Luca couldn’t quite read Ilya’s expression as he shuffled back over to the booth but he didn’t seem to think that Ilya agreed with the statement. At least Luca hoped he didn’t. 

Luca felt a warmth creep up the back of his neck as he ducked into the booth again and met the teasing glances of his friends. He took a shaky sip of his beer and tried his best to ignore the chirps that came from his teammates for the rest of the night.

Later on, when they were driving home in the dark, Ilya broke the silence.

“So, did you get her number?” He looked sideways at Luca. Luca glanced out of the window, suddenly embarrassed.

“No.” 

“Is okay.” Ilya said. 

It wasn't patronizing in the way that Luca had suspected. Ilya didn’t pry with any further questions as they drove home, the music playing softly in the background. It wasn’t EDM this time, which Luca was grateful for.

A text popped up on the CarPlay that Ilya quickly swiped away. Luca didn’t think much of it as he replayed his interactions at the bar over and over again in his head.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you to everyone who has left a kind comment so far! They make my day whenever they pop up and they definitely inspire me to keep writing :)

Chapter 4: Homesick

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, October 2020

The first couple weeks of Haas living with Ilya went by quickly. He seemed to grow more and more comfortable around Ilya, falling into a routine that they both understood without second thought. Haas had even plucked up the courage to ask Ilya to take him shopping, which Ilya agreed to excitedly. They went to IKEA for some room decor and a new stuffed animal which wasn’t on the list but, after some light teasing, Haas reluctantly let Ilya buy it for him. It was a lamb which Ilya insisted was because he was a goat in the making. That lit Luca’s cheeks considerably. They’d also visited a small arts store downtown for some supplies that Haas carefully picked out. 

“Oh so you are an artist?” Ilya asked as he patiently followed the younger boy down each aisle. Haas picked up a couple of sketch books from the shelf.

He smiled shyly, “It helps me to wind down.”

Ilya had suggested that Haas draw him something when they got home. Haas complained about how he wasn’t that good but when he came back with a drawing of Chiron later that night, Ilya was shocked. He immediately hung it up on the fridge and shared it with the Centaurs group chat, proudly gloating that he had the most talented rookie in the league. Haas only felt a little embarrassed when he read the guys’ replies later that night, many of which requested that he draw something for them next. They threw out dollar amounts that were too exorbitant for a simple sketch. Ilya said that Haas only took requests from his favourite teammate which made Haas roll his eyes.

On a sunny Saturday morning Ilya trudged into the house, breathing heavily from his run. He slipped off his shoes and walked into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. His eyes scanned the quiet home in search of Haas but he came up short. He looked at the clock, 11:00am, and furrowed a brow. Haas was more of a morning person than he was but he shrugged it off and sunk down into one of the barstools, pulling out his phone to see a text from Yuna.

Yuna: You still joining us for dinner tonight?

Ilya sighed and took another sip of his water. It burned his throat but he liked the feeling, it distracted him from the thoughts that swirled around his head. He could tell it wasn’t going to be a good brain day and he planned to talk with Galina about that in their session later that week. He resigned to the fact that she’d be proud of him for going on a run anyways. She’d be doubly proud of him for agreeing to dinner with Yuna and David that night but he was hesitant. Even if it’s what Ilya wanted to do, and he knew it would make him feel better, he didn’t know what to tell Haas. He couldn’t think of a good excuse that didn’t insinuate he was seeing someone. That's the last thing he wanted to do right now.

As he began typing out a response, the office door slid open behind him. He whipped his head around to see Haas standing there equally startled by Ilya’s presence.

“Oh, good morning.” Haas greeted tentatively. He was still dressed in his pyjama pants and a large Centaurs sweater. His hair stuck up in all different directions as if he'd just rolled out of bed. He turned away slightly to wipe his eyes which appeared red even from the other side of the room. It helped that they were magnified ever so slightly by his glasses. He looked so young. Ilya’s heart sank.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. Suddenly his brain didn’t have enough room for his own troubles. He spun the barstool around so that he could give his undivided attention to the boy.

“Oh, nothing.” 

The lie only made Ilya cock his head to the side. He patiently waited for Haas to cave. 

He did in a matter of seconds.

“I just, I was just talking to my sister.” He sighed as he walked into the kitchen and busied his hands with the tea kettle. Ilya watched his movements and made a mental note to buy some different types of tea the next time he ordered groceries. When Haas didn’t say anything more, Ilya exhaled a deep breath.

“Is hard being away from home.” Ilya said.

Haas simply nodded at Ilya’s words, so he continued, “I remember feeling, ah, what is the word?”

“Home sick?” Haas weakly offered and met Ilya’s eyes. He wiped his nose against his long sweater sleeve. Ilya wondered how the sweater looked so large on the boy who was easily over 6’0” himself.

“Da, homesick. When I moved to Boston.” Ilya reaffirmed.

He had noticed how often Haas had been texting and calling his sister, and wondered when the ball would finally drop. When it would hit Haas like a tonne of bricks that he wouldn’t get to see his family for a long time. He didn’t talk about his family much, outside of Sophia, and Ilya suspected that there might be something complicated there. He didn’t pry.

Haas shifted uncomfortably under Ilya’s gaze as he waited for the kettle to boil. 

“I have family here.” He blurted out. 

Haas’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, “You do?”

“Well, sort of.” He ignored the anxiety that bloomed in his gut, “They invited me for dinner tonight. You should come.” 

Blaring alarm bells rang in his brain as soon the words escaped him. He could just imagine the way that Shane’s eyes would widen at the suggestion, like a deer caught in headlights, and the ever-growing list of reasons he would have as to why this was a bad idea. But the small smile that rose to Haas’ face made them all disappear.

“Really? I don’t want to impose.”

“Not possible. They’d be happy to have you.”

And with that, Ilya left the room to text Yuna, who he figured would be excited to feed another Centaur. Then he called Shane and realized he’d have lots of new material for his session with Galina later that week.

///

Shane eventually came around to the idea. It took a bit of convincing–mainly Ilya dramatically explaining how sad Haas looked and how he was so far from home at a young age–to get Shane on board with it. He immediately went into planning mode to come up with a careful narrative as to why Ilya had been adopted by his family, which seemed to make him more comfortable with the idea. Well, somewhat. Ilya could still sense his hesitancy over the phone but he happily ignored that as he drove them over that night.

Haas fiddled with the bottle of wine in his lap. He insisted that they stop at the LCBO on the way so that they didn’t show up empty handed and Ilya showed him which ones Yuna liked the most. Haas chose the most expensive one which Ilya chose to turn a blind eye to.

Ilya was trying his best to suppress his excitement as he tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel. Inviting his rookie to the Hollander’s for dinner wasn’t an outright admission about anything but it was something. Something to show that he and Shane were much more than the arch-rivals they were painted as for many years; likely the same narrative that Haas had absorbed when he watched them as a kid. 

“So, my family is Yuna and David Hollander.” Ilya shared. He figured it was better to address that now than wait for Haas to see baby pictures of Shane Hollander, one of his childhood idols, hanging in their entryway. Ilya thought about his favourite one, a picture of 4 year-old Shane in his Timbits jersey and hockey pads that were too big for him. David had told him about how hard it was to find hockey equipment that was small enough for Shane, but little Shane didn't care; he was getting on that ice no matter what.

His eyes flicked over to Haas who sat a bit straighter in his seat. He seemed to be a mix of confused and shocked.

“Hollander? As in, Shane Hollander?” He questioned. Ilya suppressed the urge to deflect and make a joke about it being another Hollander.

“Da, we are...friends.” Ilya chose his words carefully, instead.

There was a pause. Ilya held his breath.

“Oh yeah, you guys have that charity, right?” Haas acknowledged casually.

Ilya blinked. He hadn’t thought about that when he talked Shane down from a panic attack earlier that morning. The charity had slowly started to change the way that the media portrayed them, but he hadn’t thought about how that would trickle down to the players too; to the rookies.

“The Irina Foundation.” He cleared his throat, “We just finished our second year of camps.” 

“That’s really cool.” Haas sounded genuine. 

Ilya decided to leave it at that. If Haas didn’t have any questions about his closeness to the Hollander’s then he wasn’t going to offer any answers. This might be easier than Ilya previously thought. He couldn’t hide the small smile that crept onto his face and stayed there for the rest of the drive, his thumbs tapping happily on the steering wheel again.

///

Luca took a deep breath as they exited the car and walked up to the front door. When Ilya simply walked in instead of ringing the doorbell, he was shocked. Maybe they were closer than he originally thought. Maybe the charity had been a turning point for them and they’d really bonded over whatever it was that the charity did. Luca tried to rack his brain for anything he could remember about it but came up short, only recalling the announcement they made a couple years before and how that had caught the hockey world by surprise. He figured a lot could happen in two years, even he was living proof of that, so he followed Ilya through the front door.

“We’re here!” Ilya called out into the house as he held the door open for Luca. They removed their shoes and Luca’s eyes scanned the room. It was a humble home that smelled like clean laundry and garlic, likely from the dinner that was being prepared. He averted his eyes from the baby pictures of Shane Hollander on the wall beside them; that would certainly send him into a greater spiral than he was already managing just by standing in Shane's childhood home. A small woman rounded the corner with a tea towel in her hands and she beamed when saw Ilya.

“Come in, come in!” She ushered them up the short staircase and pulled Ilya into a big hug. Luca followed tentatively and smoothed his sweater out in an attempt to make himself look more presentable. 

“And you must be Luca.” The woman smiled warmly at him when she pulled away from Ilya.

“Yes, it's nice to meet you Mrs Hollander.” Luca smiled and held out the bottle of wine to her, “This is for you.”

“Yuna, please.” She corrected and then took the bottle from him. She sent a joking glare over at Ilya who smiled cheekily down at her, his hands on his hips, “The last time I had this we got into a bit of trouble.”

Ilya chuckled at the memory, “Yuna is very competitive. Do not challenge her to charades.”

Yuna jokingly hit Ilya on the chest and Luca chuckled.

“Ignore him. Come in.” She waved them further into the home and they followed her back into the kitchen where a man stood stirring a large pot. He had an apron tied loosely around his front which made Luca smile. 

“I’m on sauce duty, sorry guys!” He called over his shoulder. 

“Ah, are we having your famous chicken parm?” Ilya jogged excitedly over to the man and peered over his shoulder to get a whiff of the sauce. Yuna turned towards Luca and motioned for him to sit at the table, which he gladly did, as she got out wine glasses for them. Luca wasn’t the biggest fan of wine but he would drink it to be respectful. David handed Ilya the large spoon, instructed him to stir slowly, and turned so that he could greet Luca.

“Luca, nice to meet you.” He came over, hand outstretched. Luca stood slightly so that he could take it, noting how firm the man’s grip was. He tried his best to match it.

“Nice to meet you too.” He smiled gently.

“You had a good game on Thursday!” David complimented as he walked back over to take the spoon from Ilya again. Ilya happily leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the older man cook.

“We might have a real shot at the Cup this year with you on our front line.” Yuna added as she poured wine into each of the glasses. 

“I don’t know about that.” Luca chuckled nervously. 

“He’s very humble. Doesn’t know how good he is.” Ilya tutted.

Luca’s cheeks flushed. He’d heard the same sentiment expressed a few times since arriving in Ottawa but it always made him feel weird; like maybe people were just trying to be nice. Canadians were known for that, he often reminded himself. The words rang true as he sat at the kitchen table, his arms folded comfortably in front of him as he leaned onto it.

"Sounds like he might need to take a page out of the old Rozanov book.” David joked and clapped a hand on Ilya’s shoulder. Ilya chuckled to himself.

“No, I think the Shane Hollander book.” Ilya insisted. A wide grin had spread across his face as he watched Luca from across the room. Yuna hummed as she studied him from Ilya’s side.

“I see that.” She agreed. Luca took a nervous sip of wine. 

///

A little while later, once they’d had the best chicken parmesan Luca had ever tasted, they sat in the living room playing boardgames. They introduced him to one of their favourites, Catan, which Luca had never played before but seemed to be a natural at. He carefully placed down his pieces and grinned up at Yuna, who sat across from him on the floor with another glass of wine in hand.

“And with that, I get the longest road.” He smiled cheekily and held out his palm to Yuna, waiting for her to pass him the card. Yuna scowled as she begrudgingly handed it over. David and Ilya watched on with goofy smiles on their faces as well. 

“I think that gives me 10 victory points?” Luca questioned aloud even though he already knew the answer. David and Ilya applauded for him in defeat but Yuna just stared at him from across the ottoman.

“See, I told you! Most competitive person I know.” Ilya laughed loudly as he poked Yuna's side.

She swatted his hands away and her face dissolved into a smile. She congratulated Luca on his win with a firm handshake which he gladly accepted just as Ilya’s phone buzzed on the floor. He picked it up and a small smile rose to his face.

“Is that Shane?” Yuna hummed.

The three of them started to organize the cards and playing pieces that had scattered across the ottoman and the floor surrounding them. Luca handed David one of the small plastic bags as he looked over at Ilya.

“Da, he says he wishes he was here. He is jealous,” Ilya smirked, “Here, let's take picture.”

Ilya held his phone out above them and Yuna tucked closer into his side to fit into the frame. David wrapped an arm around Luca’s shoulder and he quickly smiled just as Ilya snapped the photo. Ilya smiled down at his phone and began typing again.

“Tell him we miss him.” David said.

“I am telling him you have two new sons in Ottawa.” Ilya grinned and hit send.

Luca blushed at the insinuation and carefully looked between Yuna and David, waiting for them to protest. Instead, they just laughed and continued cleaning up.

“Is getting late. We should probably head home.” Ilya sighed. Luca felt a pang of sadness in his chest. He didn't want to leave. 

“Do you want help with the dishes?” Luca offered, already getting to his feet.

“No, no. You guys hit the road.” Yuna waved him off. Both Luca and Ilya tried to protest but shortly after they were standing at the front door, shoes on and tupperware containers of leftovers in hand.

“Thanks so much for having me. I really appreciate it.” Luca admitted sheepishly as Yuna pulled him into a gentle hug. When they pulled away she sent him a sympathetic smile.

“You’re welcome at our house anytime.” She insisted.

Luca flushed, gave David a quick hug as well, and braced the cold autumn night with Ilya by his side. Yuna and David watched as they got into the car and waved them down the road until Luca couldn’t see them in the side mirror anymore.

“So, what do you think?” Ilya smiled sideways at him. Luca held the warm tupperware containers a little tighter. He smiled out the window.

“They’re really kind.” Luca said earnestly and then quickly added, “Thank you.”

Ilya smiled to himself and turned back onto the main road to head home.

Chapter End Notes

So sorry for the delayed update, life and work unfortunately have to happen...

Thank you again for everyone's kind comments and valid criticisms! I'm definitely taking notes over here to help improve the story down the line :)

Also trust that some things are chosen deliberately to make things flow. Also this is somewhat a canon divergence so we'll loosely be following TLG but with some fun stuff sprinkled throughout! Hope you're loving it still :)

Chapter 5: Media Day

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, October 2020

As they neared the start of the regular season Luca started to feel more and more nervous. He was used to rigorous workout routines and countless hours skating, having spent a couple years in the Elit-20 league back home; however, he wasn't so used to the publicity that came with playing in the MLH. He was starting to get a taste of that the more he was seen out with Ilya. 

For the most part, Ottawans were respectful when they were out in public. They would occasionally stop to take a few photos with dads and their shy kids at the grocery store or sign a phone case in the Timmies drive thru, but it was tame enough. The social media side of things, on the other hand, was completely new territory for Luca.

Luca had never been one for attention. He liked to keep to himself, only really opening up to his close friends and Sophia. He was slowly opening up to his Centaurs family-which he was still getting accustomed to-even as they lived up to their reputation as the nicest locker room in the league. His friendships with Eric and LaPointe had grown. They sometimes went for coffee or a local hike that LaPointe found online, and they'd begrudgingly hop online to play Chel with Luca, who always won and never let them forget it. The person he felt most comfortable around was Ilya and he wondered how much that was out of necessity as opposed to true comfort. He couldn’t hold his walls up when they were at home. He needed some sort of safe place and since that had become Ilya’s home, it also became Ilya.

Luca sat in the conference room doodling in his sketchpad. He was wearing his home jersey and a comfortable pair of jeans, grateful to no longer be in a tight suit, as they waited for their next photoshoot of the day. Ilya had warned him that media day would be long and tiring, so he thought that having something to ground Luca might help. Ilya was right, Luca already felt calmer as he worked on a drawing for Hayes’ wife for their anniversary. To his left Eric was throwing a small ball into the air over and over again and across the table, LaPointe was munching on a cookie as he scrolled on his phone. They were asked to wait in the conference room for Harris as he wrapped up with the vets down the hall. 

So far Luca had done an individual photoshoot in all of his gear and filmed the intro clips they would use for home games. They had to do a few takes before he actually felt comfortable mean-mugging into the camera; it helped when Hayes put on some ACDC for him to get in the right mindset, even though he let out a loud laugh at the first sound of the guitar over the speakers. The photographer seemed to flash some photos at that exact moment which Luca hoped to get his hands on later. 

Then the rookies had their first press conference where they were introduced to the world of PR answers and stoicism. Luca tried his best to stay serious as Eric and LaPointe fell into fits of giggles beside him. Even with his heart pounding in his chest he seemed to be the best at answering the media’s pointed questions. When a reporter asked him what living with Ilya Rozanov was really like, Luca could only think about the night before when they had baked cookies for the team. He held that memory close to his chest as he gave a simple answer about how grateful he was to have Ilya’s mentorship during this crazy time. He hoped the media wouldn’t run too far with his use of the word “crazy”.

Suddenly the door to the conference room opened and Bood poked his head in.

“Play time is over, Haasy. Harris needs you.” He quickly tucked his pencils and sketch pad into his backpack and walked down the hall to the designated filming room. When he walked into the small room he was met with bright lights, cameras, and a large white backdrop. In front of the cameras sat Ilya who was too busy texting on his phone to notice Luca plop down beside him.

“Okay, Ilya. Phone away, we gotta get through this.” Harris announced from behind the cameras.

“Just…one…second…” Ilya’s thumbs typed faster, “Okay, lets go.”

He smiled up at Harris and then over at Luca who fidgetted with the sleeves of his jersey. His eyes flicked down to Luca’s hands and then back up at his eyes. He tapped his knee reassuringly as Harris began.

“Okay guys, we’re doing a segment all about rookies living with vets. Maybe Luca, you can start. Tell us why you wanted to live with Ilya.”

The instructions were clear enough but Luca’s head swam with possible answers. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, and took a deep breath to steady his heart rate. His heart was pounding in his ears and the lights were so bright, and–

“Is because I am best on the team, obviously.”

He looked over at Ilya who was already grinning over at him. 

“He likes to flatter himself.” Luca found himself saying to Harris. Ilya chuckled.

“Well, is there another reason?” Ilya asked. Luca knew what he was doing and, to be honest, it was helping. So he took the bait.

“Ilya likes to hold it over my head that I was a big fan of his growing up.” He admitted with a shy smile.

“Was?” Ilya said dramatically.

“Yes, was. Past tense.” Luca chuckled but then continued, “On a serious note, when Coach Wiebe asked us who we wanted to live with it seemed pretty obvious to me that Ilya would be a good choice.”

“And why is that?” Harris prompted.

“Ilya is our captain so he’s a natural leader. He’s always checking in with the team and pushing them to be their best. And he knows what it's like to move halfway across the world at a young age, so I figured he could help me with that.” 

Luca looked over at Ilya who appeared dazed with a tight-lipped smile on his face. It felt a bit odd being so honest but he’d been feeling that way for a while; he was grateful for Ilya. This clip for social media was just an easy excuse to admit that.

“And Ilya, why did you want Luca to live with you?” Harris continued, a fond smile painted on his lips now. Ilya shook himself out of his daze.

“Is simple. He is the best rookie in the league. He deserves a smooth transition into this world, and if I can help him with that, then I will do it.”

Luca smiled to himself.

“And he’s a good cook. So I basically have a private chef now.” 

Luca dramatically rolled his eyes and then smiled sideways at Ilya who was staring back at him with a cheeky grin.

///

“Okay, we’re going to do a quick fire round.” Harris directed. He sounded exhausted and Luca was starting to feel the same. He stood in front of the camera with Eric playing a game where they had to answer questions about one another to prove how much they knew about the other. Harris had called it the Newly Wed game which made Eric laugh and Luca increasingly nervous. 

Since the start of training camp, Eric and Luca had gotten quite close. They shared a hotel room throughout camp and then saw each other almost everyday since moving to their respective vet’s houses. Their bond had been caught on camera by Harris many times; from clips of the pair practicing together to spotting one another at the gym to them goofing around behind the scenes. The fans seemed to eat it up for whatever reason–even starting a shipname for them, Yaas–which they had to explain to Bood was a play on words for some online lingo that the older guys on the team didn’t fully understand. He knew that fan service was a part of the job and he loved being around Eric, so he let Harris drag them into this filming session. 

“Okay, favourite food.” Harris called out.

“Oh shoot, I know this, don’t tell me.” Eric squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to pull the memory from his head. Luca was smiling wide. He fiddled with the cap of his white board marker that they’d used in previous rounds.

“Okay well Eric’s is mac’n’cheese.” Luca directed to the camera.

“Wait, wait.. It’s on the tip of my tongue.” Eric held up a hand.

“This is supposed to be quick fire, Young.” Troy, who was sitting behind the camera beside Harris, dead-panned.

“Do you want a hint?” Luca chuckled. 

“I know it starts with an R. Ro–? Ruh–something?” Eric guessed.

“He’s basically got it. Rösti. It’s a Swiss dish.” Luca supplied with ease.

“Rösti! See, I knew that!” He pointed at Luca with a giddy smile.

“Okay, let’s try to be a bit faster with these answers. Favourite song.” Harris said.

“Oh that’s easy, Haasy loves Telephone by Lady Gaga.” Eric grinned over at the boy,

“I do not!” Luca tried to defend himself but the high pitch of his voice and tinted cheeks gave him away easily. Harris and Troy giggled behind the camera.

“He knows all the words. Gaga’s and Beyonce’s.” Eric leaned in to whisper to the camera. Luca hit his arm and Eric cowered away as he chuckled

“Whatever, it’s a good song.” Luca shuffled his feet a bit, “Eric likes Pony by Genuwine.”

Luca was joking but Eric wiggled his eyebrows suggestively to the camera. They both fell into a fit of giggles.

“Okay last one, hidden talent?” Harris beamed. Luca wasn’t quite sure if it was because they were giving him good content or because they were one step closer to this day being over.

“Oh that’s easy! Haasy is a fantastic artist. He’s very humble about it, as he is with most things, but he’s genuinely so good. Maybe we can post some of your stuff for people to see.” Eric suggested and peered over at Luca who was too busy thinking about his own answer to register Eric’s.

“I think that’s a yes, Harris.” Eric smiled cheekily. Harris gave him a thumbs up off camera.

A devilish grin rose to Luca’s face then, “Eric is good at rapping.”

Eric bubbled with laughter. Luca thought back to their first night of training camp when he’d overheard Eric rapping along to the Alphabet Aerobics in the shower of their hotel room. He hadn’t let Eric forget it since. It was terrible and also, slightly impressive.

“Okay, thanks guys. You’re good to go back to the conference room. Can you send LaPointe and Chouinard in for me?”

Luca and Eric raced back to the conference room and stumbled through the door with a bang. It made the guys sitting peacefully in the room jump. They told LaPointe and Chouinard to go see Harris and then walked towards their respective seats in the room.

“How’d it go, rook?” Bood asked as Eric fell back into the chair beside him. Luca took the empty seat beside Ilya who was still busy on his phone.

“It went well. Luca only blushed a total of 6 times.”

Luca tried his hardest not to blush at that very moment. It had been something that his teammates had been poking fun at him for since he made the roster. He knew it was light fun but he couldn’t help it; oftentimes the jokes about it only made him blush more. It was a vicious cycle.

“Whatever.” Luca grumbled and pulled out his phone. 

He clicked into their team schedule for the next day, their first regular season game, just to double check what time he needed to be awake. The guys fell into conversations around him. Holmberg mentioned something about how he could actually take his kids trick or treating for Halloween this year because they didn’t have a game that day.

“We should do something!” Eric said to no one in particular, “It’s my favourite holiday.”

“You want to go trick or treating with Holmberg’s kids?” Hayes joked from the end of the table. 

Eric rolled his eyes dramatically, “No, like we should have a party or something.”

“Are you even old enough to drink?” Bood chirped. Eric stuck his tongue out at him.

“We could have a party.” Ilya said nonchalantly from where he was still typing away on his phone. Some of the guys around the room turned their full attention to him at the suggestion, including Luca, who wasn’t entirely sure he wanted his teammates to stumble upon the pair of stuffed animals that sat on his bed.

“Really?” Eric couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice. Ilya looked up at him and then over at Luca. 

He shrugged, “If we win our game the night before, then why not? We can get booze and order some food. Come over whenever, bring your spouses. But you better wear a costume.” He seemed to take the idea very seriously and Luca gulped. Well, I guess they were doing this.

Chapter End Notes

Happy Super Bowl Sunday to all who celebrate! I don't have a favourite team so I'm team Bad Bunny! Go Sports, yay!

Thanks again for all of your nice comments, they make me giggle and kick my feet and motivate me to keep writing :)

Chapter 6: First Time for Everything

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, October 2020

The first regular game of the season always made Ilya nervous but he would never tell anyone that. Even after all these years, he still woke up with butterflies in his stomach. He tried to reassure himself it was because he still cared; that he was still doing what he loved. He just had to get the first game over with and then he would return to his usual confident disposition towards the season.

So, he went through the motions; a light workout in the morning followed by a big breakfast and a warm shower. Then he picked out his pre-game suit and sent a quick picture to Shane, which he always received two heart emojis for. Then he drove to the arena, this time with his rookie in tow, as he blasted their pre-game playlist through the speakers; well, he didn't quite blast it this time as he could sense Luca’s nerves and didn't want to overwhelm him. He decided to stop through the Tim Hortons drive thru to distract Luca, who sipped happily on his tea and added more songs to their pre-game playlist for the rest of the drive. By the time he walked into the arena, an iced coffee in hand, Ilya felt much better.

Ilya and Luca walked side by side through the players entrance dressed in their pre-game suits. Ilya was impressed by Luca’s choice of a navy blue suit and brown loafers. He’d left his glasses on, which Ilya thought made him look more like a kid playing dress up than a professional hockey player, but he kept that thought to himself. He didn’t want to make the rookie anymore nervous than he already was. Ilya had a wide grin plastered on his face as they approached Harris. 

“Harris! Where is my god son?” He yelled through the corridor. Harris snapped photos and videos of them as they approached. Ilya could hear Yuna’s voice in the back of his head telling him they were giving free advertising to Tim Hortons, as if they needed that, but he tucked his drink a little further behind his leg anyways.

“It’s game day so Chiron is at home, sorry Roz!” Harris called back which made Ilya pout, “Okay wait, let's get a couple of shots before you go into the locker room. Just stand there.”

Ilya threw an arm over Luca’s shoulders who was only thrown off for a second before he flashed a big smile at the camera. They both tucked their drinks out of sight. Yuna would be proud.

“Super cute! Okay, you’re free to go.” Harris beamed at them.

“Will we be seeing you soon?” Ilya asked as he led Luca towards the locker room.

“Yes, at warm ups!” Harris answered, just as a couple more players walked into the corridor.

Ilya could hear Harris hyping up Dykstra’s cowboy hat as he pushed open the door to the locker room. He wasn’t at all surprised when he found Troy sitting there alone. He lifted his head from his phone as they walked in. 

“Early bird gets the worm, Barrett!” Ilya said cheekily as he set his bag down in his locker. 

“Who taught you that, Roz?” Troy ignored the clear undertone to Ilya’s words. 

He shrugged, “I just know things. Luca, you will see that Barrett is always here first. Who knows why?” He loosened his tie with a smug smile painted across his face. 

Troy sheepishly looked over at Luca, eager to change the subject.

“Haasy, how are you feeling?” He asked. 

“I'm a bit nervous.” Luca admitted. 

“No need, rook, you’re going to kill it!” Bood exclaimed loudly as he entered the room with a few more guys right behind him. Young plopped down in the booth beside Luca and they started chatting quietly. Ilya smiled to himself.

He removed his suit jacket and started to unbutton his dress shirt. He connected his phone to the speaker and started their pre-game playlist. The first song to come on was in Russian, which some of the guys complained about, but Ilya sassily reminded them that if they actually read the group chat then they would find the playlist link there to add their own music. The guys only grumbled in response. A few of them pulled out their phones.

The guys broke out into different conversations around the room as they all started their pre-game routines. Ilya changed into his gear and ran over their pre-game drills in his head. He didn’t want it to be too intense–he always thought that the guys played better when they felt more comfortable–but they were playing Detroit who had finished strong the year prior, so he kept that in mind as he laced up his skates. When he was done, he caught sight of Luca who was staring down at his jersey with a small smile on his face.

Haas, 2.

The number choice confused Ilya at first, it wasn't common for players to choose that number, let alone a forward. When he eventually asked him about it, Luca shyly admitted it was because his little sister was born in 2002, and it suddenly made perfect sense to Ilya. He smiled to himself as Luca finally pulled it over his head. He gave him a few moments to finish getting ready before he got up from his stall to usher the rookie out of the room. Luca's nerves seemed to settle as Ilya told him all about Harris' dog, Chiron; how he was supposed to be a team dog but Harris didn't bring him around nearly as much as he should. He only stopped talking once he saw Harris waiting for them in the entrance tunnel. He figured that was enough distraction for now, anyways.

“Okay guys, any final words before warm-ups?” Harris held his phone up to record them, this time with a fancy ring light attached to it. 

“That sounds kind of morbid, no? Any final words? Like we are going to die.” Ilya deadpanned.

“You know what I mean.” Harris chuckled.

“Luca, what are your final words?” Ilya leaned his stick over towards Luca as if it were a microphone. Luca smiled sideways at him and after a brief moment, he cleared his throat and leaned down to speak into it. Ilya grinned. 

“I want to say hi to Centaurs Nation and my little sister, Sophia, back home. You better not be watching this live.” He pointed an accusatory finger at the camera.

Ilya returned his stick-microphone towards himself.

“I also want to say hi to Luca’s little sister,” Ilya smiled cheekily as Luca glared over at him, “And to Centaurs Nation, we love you!”

“Perfect, have a good warm-up guys!” Harris beamed at them as he lowered his phone.

Ilya led Luca out to the ice and they started to skate laps as the rest of the guys joined them. Ilya took them through their usual shooting and passing drills as the stands filled with their hometown crowd, before they returned to the locker room for Ilya’s first captains speech of the season.

///

“Tonight is the night. We leave everything out on the ice. Kapish?” Ilya spoke confidently as he stood in the center of their locker room and scanned each of his teammate’s faces. The guys around the locker room roared, including Luca, who let his nerves transform into excitement.

“Kapish!” They all yelled back in their various accents, which only fired Ilya up more.

One by one they trickled out of the locker room and formed a line in the darkness of the entrance tunnel. The arena was somehow louder than it was during warm-ups as the overhead announcer welcomed the fans to Ottawa’s home opener. Colourful strobe lights streamed down the hallway every now and then, blinding Luca as he tried his best to take it all in. He was standing near the middle of the pack, LaPointe directly behind him, as their entrance music started. 

“Feeling good, bud?” LaPointe squeezed Luca’s shoulders as best as he could through the pads. Luca chuckled under his breath.

“Feeling good.” 

Once his name was announced, he skated onto the ice. The crowd roared to life around him.

///

Luca was practically buzzing by the end of his first official MLH game, even though they lost 3-2. He scored his first goal of his career off a sneaky pass from Eric which he perfectly one-timed into the back of the net. The crowd screamed all around him as his teammates rushed over to jump on him, even Hayes, who skated the whole length of the ice to join their celebration. Ilya was by far the happiest as Luca skated past the bench to high-five each of his teammates; he yanked him over the boards and into a big hug as he placed a big kiss on the top of Luca's helmet. Luca hoped that the redness of his cheeks was excused by his physical exertion and not his giddiness at that moment. 

When he returned to the locker room and finally pulled out his phone, it was flooded with texts from his sister and friends. He knew that some of his former teammates from the Elit-20 had arranged a watch party back home, even if it was an ungodly time, and it made his heart swell. He couldn’t answer any of the texts without his teammates coming over to ruffle his hair or tap his shin pads with their stick to congratulate him on his first game. The last person to enter the locker room was Ilya who had a puck in hand as he approached Luca’s stall.

“First goal of many. We will mount this when we get home, okay?” He planted the puck in Luca’s hands with a big smile on his face. Luca just looked down at it in awe. He could've stayed there forever had Coach Wiebe not called for him.

“Haas, you ok to do some media?”

Luca was snapped out of his reverie as he looked over to his Coach. He nodded and quickly tucked the puck away in his bag. He pulled off his jersey and pads so that he was a bit more comfortable, and ran a hand through his hair to tame it a bit. Eric nudged his knee to get his attention and Luca turned to face him.

"You're gonna do great, don't worry." Eric smiled warmly. Luca sent him a small smile of his own as he hopped up and jogged out of the room.

He was ushered over to a crowd of reporters with their cameras and microphones already set up. It was overwhelming. Luca took a few steading breaths as he maneuvered through them, apologizing and excusing himself on the way, until he reached the spot on the wall they were gathered around. 

“Hi, everyone.” He let go of a shaky breath as he waited for his first question. They wasted no time as the first reporter spoke up.

“Luca! Tonight was your first MLH game and your first goal of your career. Can you tell us a bit about how you're feeling after tonight’s performance?” 

Luca paused for a moment and thought back to the media training he’d done with Eric and LaPointe over the past couple weeks. Harris insisted that they spend some time doing mock interviews with him just so that they could learn the basics before the start of the season. Luca was eternally grateful for that now as his heart pounded in his ears and his hands grew clammy. He crossed his arms over his chest to ground himself and turned to face the reporter that had asked the question. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty surreal. I’ve been dreaming about this my whole life so to actually be here, living it, I feel like the luckiest kid in the world.” He said earnestly. One of the reporters in his direct eye line smiled, which made him feel a bit better.

“And we saw your teammate, Ilya Rozanov, grab your first goal puck for you. What do you plan to do with that?” Another reporter asked.

“Yeah, he actually just gave it to me a few moments ago,” He chuckled as he pointed in the direction of the locker room, “I think we’re going to get it mounted or something. I’m not sure, but I’m definitely keeping that forever.”

Some of the reporters chuckled around him.

“And speaking of Ilya Rozanov, he’s your captain but we understand that you’re also living with him. Can you tell us a bit about that?” The same reporter asked.

Luca knew this was going to follow him for a while. Ilya was one of the biggest names in the MLH and he knew that by living with Ilya, by being associated with him, people would take a special interest in him as well. Just as he was about to answer, he saw some movement out of the corner of his eye. Ilya and Troy had sneakily joined the back of the crowd of reporters; only a few of the reporters noticed their presence, as they silently watched Luca’s first post-game interview. Troy had Harris’ phone in hand, the one with the fancy ring light attached, and he was recording him like a proud parent. Luca blushed and turned his attention towards the reporter again. 

“Uh yeah, I am living with him. It’s been great. Ilya has been so welcoming and supportive. I’m very lucky to have him.”

Luca avoided looking at Ilya's direction, he could just imagine the big grin on his face, as he silently hoped for a quick follow-up question. Before any of the other reporters could ask one, though, Ilya spoke up.

“Luca, quick question back here! Tom and Jerry from Sportsnet,” He put on a formal voice as he gestured between himself and Troy, “You had a great game tonight, it's clear you're putting in the work off the ice. Can you tell us about your workout routine and how you got in shape for the season?” 

Oh no, Luca thought to himself. He knew where this was going.

Before he could even think of a safe answer, Ilya held out a slim Jim towards him, as if it were a microphone, which made him bubble with laughter. The reporters around them laughed as well, but not Ilya; he remained entirely serious, even as some of the cameras turned to face him. Troy was grinning like a mad man behind Harris' phone as he panned between the two of them. Luca cleared his throat  which hushed the crowd. 

“Uh yeah, that's a great question. Thanks, Jerry–”

“Tom. That's Jerry.” Ilya corrected as he pointed to Troy. Troy glared sideways at him.

“Right, so Jerry,” Luca ignored him, which elicited a few chuckles from the reporters, “I definitely have a strict workout routine. I follow the plans given to us by our coaching staff, unlike some people, and I take my physical fitness very seriously.”

The reporters were clearly amused by the way he could seamlessly follow Ilya’s joke, but he wasn't quite done.

“And how many pull-ups can you do?” Ilya asked pointedly which made Troy laugh from beside him. Luca blushed again, thinking back to the pull-up competition the team had a few days before; he lost pitifully and the guys wouldn't let him live it down.

“Right so that’s all from me tonight, guys. Thanks so much.” He wrapped it up with an innocent smile, completely ignoring Ilya's question. The reporters seemed to be happy with the footage they’d gotten so they let him go. He weaved through the crowd over to his teammates, where he pushed Harris' camera away as Troy continued to film him, and ignored their teasing comments all the way down the hallway. He was grateful to have his first round of post-game media done.

A little while later, once the guys had showered and finished their post-game routines, Bood stood in the centre of the room holding a roman-style battle helmet. It had a large red plume striped down the middle and it glistened under the fluorescent lighting of the locker room, almost as if it had recently been polished. 

“Okay, boys. I think we all know who deserves this tonight.” He started with a big smile on his face, “But it is my honour to award the Player of the Game to Mr. Luca Haas.”

The team cheered loudly as Luca stood and accepted the helmet from Bood. His cheeks flamed as Bood tapped him on the shoulder and stepped aside so that Luca could say a few words.

“Okay, wow. Uh, thanks guys. This means a lot.” He cleared his throat as he looked around the room at his teammates, “I think we all played great tonight and I’m really looking forward to what's in store for us this season.”

His teammates cheered around him again and, after Hayes started a chant, he begrudgingly put the helmet on. Harris made him take a photo in it, which made him feel like a little kid getting their picture taken on their first day of school; that feeling was only solidified when some of the guys jumped in to take silly photos with him. He squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment as Ilya and Bood kissed both of his cheeks, Troy reached over to hold bunny ears behind his head, and Eric and LaPointe jumped in the back to photobomb them. He'd have to ask Harris for that photo later on, if it didn't somehow end up on social media. He figured it probably would.

They celebrated at Monks again that night, which was much busier with local Ottawa fans. Even though they were surrounded by a sea of jerseys, many of which had Luca’s own name and number on them, there seemed to be an unspoken respect that the city had for their players. They weren’t bombarded as they celebrated their first game as a team; they just let them exist. Luca silently appreciated this as he laid in bed that night, excited for the day that he could celebrate a win with the city he was starting to call home.

Chapter End Notes

You guys crack me up in the comments, please keep them coming!

Oh and don't worry guys, Halloween is coming...hehe :)

Chapter 7: Halloween

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, October 2020

The first few games of the season came and went in a blur. They travelled down to Buffalo and won their first game of the season. Then they stopped in Toronto where they seemed to receive less homophobic comments than Ilya had suspected from Dallas Kent; maybe he was silenced by Wyatt’s first shut-out of the season. They celebrated that game a little too hard at the local bar afterwards. Then they played a home game against New Jersey, which was much tougher, until Ilya scored a goal in the third period and won them the game. It was a good start to the season, one that Ilya was proud of. When Halloween finally rolled around, he stuck to his promise and agreed to host a party for the team. 

Ilya stared at himself in the bathroom mirror as he combed back his hair. He decided to go with a gladiator costume, one that was sexy enough to get Shane going as he flexed for a mirror selfie. Maybe, if he was lucky, he’d get a facetime call from Shane later that night after everyone went home. He resigned to that thought and sent him the photo with a small smirk hanging off his lips.

“Ilya?” Luca called from down the hallway, footsteps quickly approaching. He tucked his phone away.

“In here!” He called back and a second later, a very tall boy in a minion onesie walked into the bathroom.

“Woah.” Luca looked Ilya once over. He smirked as Luca blinked hard a few times to concentrate again, this time with his eyes on the floor, “Uh, sorry. The guys are wondering if you have carpet cleaner?”

Ilya’s smirk fell.

"What did they do?”

They hurried down the staircase and Ilya took the place in. He let the rookies take his credit card to Party City and they went a bit wild; life-sized skeletons sat around the dining room table, fake bats hung from the ceiling, and a large black and orange balloon arch framed the back door. He was slightly impressed with that, likely Luca's doing, as he remembered why they'd rushed down the stairs in the first place. Ilya had begrudgingly let them carve a few pumpkins which were lined up on the kitchen island, battery-powered candles lit up inside. His eyes travelled to the orange goop that had collected on the living room carpet somehow–they were supposed to be carving in the kitchen–and he sighed. Young and LaPointe, dressed as Batman and a racecar driver, waited on him with baited breath. He showed them where the cleaning supplies were and then he walked over to the kitchen to finish preparing the snacks before the rest of the team arrived.

His phone buzzed on the counter and he quickly looked at it.

Shane: Holy shit.

He chuckled to himself and shortly afterwards his teammates started to file in with their spouses, all dressed in stupid costumes. Ilya loved it.

///

Luca was having more fun than he expected to when Ilya first offered to host a Halloween party. He sat in between Dillon and Chouinard on the back patio as his vets passed around a joint. Luca didn’t like the skunky smell that surrounded them but he liked hearing about his vet’s stories from their time in league, so he kept quiet.

“Do you want some, Haasy?” Hayes held the joint out to him. He had a light smile on his face as he sat with his wife, Lisa, on his lap. Luca stared at the joint in his outstretched hand, unsure what to say. He’d never smoked before but he wasn’t going to tell them that so he lifted his hand toward it. Before he could take it, someone else beat him to it, snatching the joint from Hayes. 

“Are you coercing my rookie, Wyatt?” Ilya seemed to come out of nowhere. He took a deep inhale of the joint. Luca was only slightly relieved as he watched Ilya tilt his head back and blow the smoke into the air. He gulped.

“Coercing. Big word, Roz.” Bood joked. Ilya smirked as he brought the joint to his lips again. Luca shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

“Babe, do you wanna do shots with us?” Chouinard’s wife, Selena, called out to him from the back door. She held out a bottle of vodka–the good kind, Ilya had remarked when they were at the LCBO earlier that day-with LaPointe waiting behind her. Chouinard quickly jogged inside to join them with a giddy smile on his face. Ilya plopped down into the empty spot he left beside Luca and leaned back so that he could rest both of his feet in Luca’s lap.

“Did you want to try?” He gestured toward the joint as the vets around them broke out into their own conversations.

The tips of Luca’s ears turned pink, “Oh, I–I’ve never…”

“Is okay, Luca. Only if you want to.” 

Luca smiled over at Ilya and then nodded. He felt safe.

“Okay, let me show you.” Ilya demonstrated how to take a small drag from the joint, “Just take a small puff though. You can always do more but you can never do less.”

He held the joint out again. Luca took it, feeling a bit more confident, and took a small drag.

“Breathe it into your lungs.” Ilya instructed. His eyes stayed focused on Luca’s lips as they parted around the joint. He felt the rough smoke hit his lungs and immediately started coughing. Ilya chuckled.

“There you go. See? Not so bad.” Ilya patted his back as Luca turned to him with watery eyes.

“Not so bad?” He joked and took another sip of his twisted tea. Ilya just smiled as they were pulled back into the conversation going on around them.

“I can’t believe you’re going to be a father.” Lisa teased Bood.

Luca smiled to himself. About a week ago, Eric told Luca the news during one of their many coffee outings. He seemed just as excited, if not more so, than Bood himself when he told the whole team after their practice later that same day. 

“Look, I can't believe it either. But everyone else is doing it, so I figured what the hell.” Bood grinned as he turned to nudge Ilya, “Except this guy.”

Ilya grimaced ever so slightly but Luca noticed it. He still had a grin on his face as the rest of the group laughed. Ilya took another drag from the joint.

“Roz is never settling down,” Dillon added from Luca’s other side. It took everything in him not to shove the guy as he continued, “He’s a fucking legend.”

“Nah. He’ll meet the right one someday,” Bood reassured, “Boom! Head over heels. Won’t even know what hit him.”

There was more laughter, then the conversation shifted to something else. Ilya maintained a small smile on his face but Luca could feel the sadness emanating from him. Clearly no one else could. Not long after, Ilya put out the joint and excused himself back into the house. Luca followed him, only a few beats behind.

Ilya walked straight up the stairs, away from the booming music of the party, and Luca tried his best to follow him as he pushed past his drunk teammates. Before he could reach the stairs, a very happy Eric pulled him into a game of beer pong. He didn’t really want to play but he sheepishly joined Dykstra's team. His eyes flickered over to the top of the stairs, which were devoid of Ilya, as Eric tried to argue that he should be on a team with Luca. Harris jokingly split Eric and Dykstra up as he pushed the rookie over to where Troy stood on the opposite end of the dining room table. Luca’s brain was foggy when Troy landed his first shot. He took a sip of his drink.

All he could think about was Ilya who stayed in his room for the rest of the party. 

///

Ilya was grateful that the party didn’t go too late that night. By the time midnight rolled around his teammates started to straggle out in groups; babysitters had to be relieved and the guys were still adjusting to their busy schedule. It took a bit more to get the rookies to leave but after a pointed look in Luca’s direction, he quickly found a way to get them to leave. They cleared away some of the leftover food and empty beer bottles in silence before Luca excused himself to bed. He suspected that Luca had a bit more to drink than usual so he let him go. The rest of the house could be cleaned up tomorrow. 

Ilya sighed as he fell back into his couch. His phone buzzed.

Shane: Party still going?

Ilya: No. Everyone is gone.

Ilya wiped a tired hand over his face. He had sobered up by that point but the sadness still lingered. After Bood’s comments, he just couldn’t do it anymore. It wasn’t Bood’s fault, necessarily, he didn’t know. But that was exactly what was eating away at Ilya as he watched all of his teammates enjoy their night with their respective partners. They could just be together in a way that he could never be with Shane; at least in the way he wanted to be. In public.

It was another ten minutes before his phone buzzed again.

Shane: Come outside.

Ilya’s heart dropped but he clambered over to the front door and threw it open. Shane was standing on the doorstep in a puffy jacket, looking a little embarrassed.

“Shane?” Ilya thought he was imagining things as his boyfriend smiled back at him.

“Hi.” 

Shane couldn’t get much else out as Ilya pulled him into his chest, crashing their lips together. They made out on the front door step for a while before Ilya started to feel just how cold it was and ushered Shane inside. 

“Is he still awake?” Shane looked over Ilya’s shoulder nervously.

Ilya suddenly remembered that Luca was upstairs. He looked over at the staircase.

“I don’t know. He drank a bit so he’s probably asleep.” He said. Shane gulped, not entirely convinced by Ilya’s words, but he was still here. He came. Ilya pressed him against the closed door and attacked his neck with open mouth kisses. 

“You smell like weed.” Shane scrunched his nose. Ilya hummed happily against his neck and placed a gentle kiss on his collarbone before he pulled away to look in Shane’s eyes.

“You’re here.” Ilya rasped. 

“Yeah,” Shane smiled shyly, “Is that okay? You sent that photo and I’ve just been–fuck, I missed you so much.”

“You want to get fucked by a gladiator, Hollander?” He smirked.

Shane gazed up at him through his dark lashes. 

“I put a plug in before I left.”

Ilya growled and tugged Shane’s jacket off as he pulled him in for another deep kiss. Shane shrugged off his shoes and chased the kiss as Ilya began walking backwards towards the stairs, trying his best not to bump into any decorations along the way. He took off his chest plate and then Shane’s sweater in between sloppy kisses. His hands fidgeted with the button of Shane’s jeans when a small voice spoke up behind him.

“Holy shit.” 

Shane immediately pushed Ilya away from him as his eyes darted up towards the staircase. Ilya’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach and he turned around to see Luca frozen on the landing. His eyes were wide, jaw hung open, as he looked back and forth between Ilya and Shane.

“I—uh, I—I’m so sorry,” Luca stammered and took a cautious step backwards, “I—I’ll just go.”

“Luca—“ Ilya tried but Luca was already up the stairs and slamming his door shut before he could even finish saying his name.

“Ilya, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—“ Shane stumbled.

“It’s okay, moya lyubov'.” Ilya sighed.

He turned around defeatedly to meet Shane’s terrified eyes. He pulled him into a hug and felt Shane’s heart pounding against his chest. Ilya rubbed a calming hand up and down Shane’s back until he came back into his body and slowly wrapped his own arms around Ilya’s shoulders. His fingers immediately found the small curls at the base of Ilya’s neck and he started playing with them. Ilya took a steadying breath before he pulled away to meet Shane’s eyes.

“I should probably go talk to him.” Ilya said. Shane’s eyes were a little less dazed now as he searched Ilya’s own.

“Do you want me to come with you?” He offered.

Ilya sent him a half smile but he shook his head.

“It’s probably best if I do this alone.” He placed a soft kiss on Shane’s cheek, “Why don’t you go upstairs and I’ll meet you there soon.” 

Shane nodded and quietly brushed past Ilya up the stairs towards his bedroom. Once he heard his bedroom door shut, Ilya let go of a shaky breath and picked Shane’s sweater up off the floor. He pulled it on, not wanting to scare Luca anymore than he already had, and walked over to the kitchen. He grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen and filled a large glass of water before making his way up to Luca’s room. When he got to the door, he knocked softly, and waited for the boy to respond before he gently pushed it open.

Luca sat upright on his bed, his knees pulled up to his chest as he watched Ilya walk in. He looked like a little kid who threw up in the middle of the night and was too embarrassed to tell his parents. He wiped his eyes as Ilya crossed the room.

“Ilya, I’m sorry. I had no clue—“ Luca began but Ilya raised a hand to silence him.

He sat on the edge of the bed, leaving enough distance between himself and Luca for comfort. He silently held out the glass of water and pills to him. Luca blushed as he took them. 

“Thank you.” Luca mumbled and popped a couple pills in his mouth. He took a big gulp of water as Ilya watched him cautiously. The poor kid looked so distraught and Ilya felt horrible.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He placed a careful hand on Luca’s knee, “I’m sorry you had to find out like that. That’s not how I wanted to tell you.”

Luca looked down at the glass of water in his hands and traced his thumb along it slowly. He took a deep breath and finally met Ilya’s eyes; he was searching for something, probably an answer to all of the questions that swam around his head. He settled on a singular nod and Ilya mirrored it. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ilya asked carefully.

They were still getting to know one another but Ilya knew Luca well enough to know that he wasn’t homophobic. He figured it would take a second for the young boy to wrap his head around what he’d seen, around their situation, but he wouldn’t look at Ilya any differently. At least Ilya hoped he wouldn't as the boy continued to search his eyes.

“Can we maybe talk tomorrow?” Luca asked shyly.

“Okay.” Ilya patted his knee once and got up from the bed. Just as he was nearing the door, Luca spoke up again.

“Ilya?” His voice was quiet, almost as if he was testing its own strength.

Ilya spun around, one hand on the doorknob, “Hmm?”

“Is he your…boyfriend?” Luca asked.

Ilya’s heart rate picked up.

“He is.” Ilya said. He couldn’t stop the small smile that rose to his face.

Luca nodded to himself as he collected his thoughts, his thumb still tracing the glass of water in his hands. Ilya suspected there was something else that Luca wanted to say so he waited. Luca looked a little less frazzled now as he took another deep breath.

“Can you tell him I’m sorry?” He finally decided.

Ilya’s heart melted. He stopped himself from reminding Luca that he had nothing to apologize for, knowing it would do nothing to reaffirm his rookie in that moment. 

“Of course. Goodnight, Luca.”

“Goodnight.” 

Ilya shut the door quietly behind him and then took a moment to collect himself before he made his way down the hall to his own room. When he walked in, Shane was already tucked into bed, fidgeting with his phone, as he stared off into space. His eyes snapped over to Ilya as he closed the door. 

Ilya paused in the entryway and studied his boyfriend. Shane was nervous and he probably would be for a long time, even after this was all sorted out the next morning. He sighed.

“So no sex?” Ilya dead-panned. 

“Ilya.” Shane scowled at him like an angry kitten. 

Ilya chuckled to himself as he peeled off the rest of his clothes until he was just in his boxers. He gently folded Shane's sweater and placed it on the dresser for him the next morning. Then he climbed into the bed and pulled Shane into his chest. Ilya relaxed under the welcomed weight of his boyfriend's body. 

“What did he say?” Shane mumbled.

“He wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry.” Ilya kissed the top of Shane’s head.

“He’s sorry?” Shane said incredulously, “Heck I should be the one apologizing.The poor kid is probably traumatized.”

Ilya figured it wasn’t a good idea to agree with his boyfriend at that moment. Luca probably was a bit traumatized, but Ilya knew it would all sort itself out in due time. Selfishly, he was happy that Shane was there. He wasn’t quite sure what compelled Shane to drive all the way from Montreal that night; maybe it was pure horniness or maybe he could sense Ilya’s depression from 200 kilometers away. Whatever it was, he was grateful. He tightened his grip around Shane.

“It’s okay, moya lyubov’.” Ilya murmured against Shane’s hair, “I’m happy you’re here.” 

Shane didn’t seem convinced by that statement but he didn’t say anything more. It was late and Shane had driven for over 2 hours, so he rolled over and turned off the lamp to go to bed. Ilya tucked in behind him and they laid together in a comfortable silence.

Ilya replayed the events of the evening in his mind as he nuzzled his face against Shane’s neck. Only a couple hours ago he laid in this bed alone, wishing that Shane would text him back and distract him from his sadness; from his teammates’ harmless jokes that maybe weren’t so harmless after all. Now he was lying here with Shane and Luca knew. He knew that they were dating, and even if he found out in the most stressful way imaginable, Ilya was happy about it. He didn’t have to hide this part of himself, of his life, from Luca anymore. It opened up so many opportunities now that hadn’t existed before. It excited him. Shane, on the other hand, he wasn't so sure about.

He could feel how tense his boyfriend’s body was and he squeezed him a little tighter, hoping that the added pressure might pull him from his anxious thoughts.

Ilya snickered.

“What?” Shane asked quietly. His voice was raspy from the sleep that he was fighting. 

“I can’t believe we just came out to Luca with me dressed as a half-naked gladiator and you with a butt plug in.” Ilya whispered, a small grin spread across his face. 

Shane bubbled with laughter, his whole body caught off guard by Ilya’s words, and he relaxed a bit into the mattress. Ilya pulled him a little closer. 

“Oh my gosh,” Shane groaned and wiped a hand down his face, “That’s a crazy first impression to make.”

Ilya kissed the back of Shane’s neck, “It’s definitely a memorable one.” 

Shane hummed in agreement. It didn’t take them long to fall asleep like that, Ilya with a small smile on his face as he wrapped himself around Shane.

Chapter End Notes

Halloween on Valentines Day? I think yes...

I included a bit of dialogue from the queen herself, Rachel Reid, bc it was simply too good... anyways, hope y'all enjoyed :)

Chapter 8: Here Goes Nothing

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, November 2020

When Luca woke up the next morning, it took him a second to realize where he was. The light streaming through his curtains was too bright and he pressed the heel of his hand to one of his eyes to ease the dull ache that sat behind them. He sat up to squint around the room and quickly realized he was in his room, not a random hotel room, as he reached over to grab his glasses. He thought back to the events of the night before. 

He thought about the minion pumpkin that Eric had surprised him with and the game of beer pong he’d won with Dykstra, which took their teammates by surprise. The dryness of his mouth reminded him of the joint Ilya taught him to smoke and as his eyes flickered over to the glass of water, he remembered how the night ended. 

“Oh shit.” 

He froze. Luca’s eyes darted over to the door as he tried to listen for any sounds of life in the house. There was some movement in the kitchen and he realized who it was; Ilya and his boyfriend, Shane Hollander. Last night. Making out in the living room. Half naked. Luca placed his head in his hands as he physically cringed at the memory. He couldn’t believe that he’d walked in on them and ruined that moment. How embarrassing. 

He searched for his phone which had gotten lost in the bedsheets and tapped on it to show the time. It was far too early but he quickly realized that he couldn’t avoid this conversation for much longer so he hopped in the shower, changed into some clothes that weren’t a Minion onesie, and slowly made his way downstairs.

When he rounded the corner, he found them both in the kitchen. Shane was sitting at the island, nursing a black coffee, as he watched Ilya putter around the kitchen. There was lightness about Ilya as he cracked eggs into a bowl, bacon already sizzling on the stove. When he stopped in the kitchen doorway, they both turned to look at him. His eyes landed on Ilya, unable to look at Shane just yet, as a blush crept up to his cheeks.

“Good morning, Luca.” Ilya greeted him with a big smile. 

“Good morning.” He replied, his tone surprisingly even, as he made his way over to the tea kettle. He could feel Shane’s eyes burning a hole in the back of his head as he filled the kettle with water and flicked it on. 

“How are you feeling?” Ilya glanced at him sideways as he whisked the eggs.

“Not completely like death,” He admitted and turned to lean a hip against the kitchen counter, “I think the pills helped last night.”

Ilya chuckled under his breath.

“You’re welcome.”

Shane suddenly cleared his throat and Ilya looked over at him. 

“Oh right,” He placed the bowl down and clapped his hands together once, "Luca, I want you to officially meet my boyfriend, Shane. Shane, this is my rookie, Luca.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Luca.” Shane sent Luca a small smile. His hands fidgetted with the mug in front of him and it reassured Luca that he wasn’t the only nervous one in the room.

“Nice to meet you, Shane.” 

The name sounded funny in his mouth but Luca pushed through and met his gaze with a small smile. He walked over to get the milk out of the fridge. He could’ve sworn he saw Ilya grinning like a mad man and sending Shane an exaggerated thumbs up out of the corner of his eye but when he turned back, milk in hand, Ilya was nonchalantly pouring the eggs into the pan. Shane and Luca awkwardly sipped on their hot drinks as Ilya finished cooking. He divided the food across three plates. 

“Come, I set the table for us.” 

Ilya ushered them over to the dining room, which they had never eaten in since Luca moved in. He didn’t question it as he looked down at the placemats with a small smile on his face and pulled out the chair across from Shane. They left the head of the table for Ilya, who was still frantically grabbing things from the kitchen. They silently watched him stumble over with the ketchup, a plate of buttered toast, and some cut-up fruit in his arms. He jogged back over to the kitchen for his coffee and returned with a big smile on his face. He placed a kiss on the top of Shane’s head as he finally joined them at the table. Shane smiled to himself. 

Luca just watched them as Ilya leaned over to grab two pieces of toast and placed one on Shane’s plate. At the same time, Shane scooped some fruit onto Ilya’s plate, then his own, before placing it in front of Luca. He didn’t realize he was staring until Ilya’s voice broke him out of his trance.

“Please, eat.” Ilya gestured to Luca’s plate. 

A light blush rose to his cheeks as he grabbed a piece of toast and spread some peanut butter on it. They ate in silence for a few moments, the only sound coming from their chewing, before Ilya pulled out his phone and hit shuffle on a soft pop playlist. Shane seemed to visibly relax at that as he took a sip of coffee.

“When is your next game?” Ilya asked Shane suddenly. Shane furrowed his eyebrows at him as he swallowed another bite of food.

“Uh, tomorrow? We play New Jersey.” He offered, confused. Luca suspected that Ilya already knew that but he appreciated Ilya’s effort to break the silence by talking about the one thing they all had in common, hockey.

“Da, that’s right. They made some changes since last season,” Ilya took a bite of his toast and then wiped his hands with his napkin, “Traded away Smith and signed Müller. Better defense now.”

Shane seemed to understand what Ilya was saying as he nodded along to his words.

“Right, Müller. He’s from the Elit-20 league, right? Luca, did you know him?” Shane asked. He took another bite of food as they both turned to Luca.

Luca cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Kind of. We were in the same draft class but he played for a different team. He’s good.” 

He took a careful sip of his tea to settle his nerves. This is normal, he tried to remind himself, as Shane continued.

“The MLH has picked up a lot of talent from the Elit-20 league the past few years; Müller this year, Fischer last. Didn’t Carolina pick up Lehmann mid-season a few years back?” Shane asked no one in particular.

“Da but they didn’t get lucky like we did.” Ilya ruffled Luca's hair. He ducked his head to hide the smile that rose to his face and chewed quietly on his toast.

“How are you finding the transition?” Shane asked casually, ignoring his flamed cheeks. Luca was grateful for that.

“It’s been good.” Luca offered. His eyes flickered over to Ilya who was doing a little dance as he popped a piece of bacon into his mouth.

Shane nodded, “And this one is being good to you?” He gestured over to Ilya who froze and let his jaw drop dramatically.

“Of course I have. Luca, tell him.” He pouted.

“Ilya has been great.” Luca chuckled.

“Okay good, if he’s ever mean to you just let me know. I’ll deal with him.” Shane mused as he looked between the pair. 

“Oh you’ll deal with me?” Ilya asked suggestively. He leaned in to place a hand on Shane’s thigh under the table which Shane quickly swatted away. His eyes darted nervously over to Luca who was suddenly very interested in his cup of tea. 

“Sorry, not in front of the children.” Ilya chuckled as he raised his hands in mock surrender. Luca felt his eyes on him as he traced the handle of his mug with his fingers. There was a pause and Luca felt the energy in the room shift. Ilya looked over at Shane who simply nodded back at him.

“Is now a good time to talk?” Ilya asked seriously.

If Luca was less nervous he would've thought to make a joke about how they were already talking. Instead, he met Ilya's eyes and then Shane's, as they waited on him patiently. He nodded, fully aware that they wanted him to direct the conversation but not entirely sure where he wanted to take it. He settled on his tea again as he took a careful sip.

"Well first of all I would like to apologize for last night." Shane shifted in his seat awkwardly as he looked over to Ilya for support, "That's definitely not how Ilya--how we--wanted you to find out."

Luca wanted to protest, to apologize himself, but he recalled Ilya's words from last night and decided against it. Instead, he nodded to himself.

"And I am sorry too, for not telling you sooner." Ilya added which made Luca's eyebrows knit together.

He thought back to the last few days of training camp when he requested to live with Ilya; the way that the room fell silent after he said Ilya's name. Coach Wiebe said he'd put some feelers out there and Luca felt stupid the whole ride back to the hotel. He imagined how difficult the decision must've been for Ilya to let Luca live with him, balancing a new rookie's emotions and experience with his own. While it took him a little while to feel comfortable in Ilya's house--trying his best to shrink himself to fit into his life, much to Ilya's dismay--he naively hadn't thought much about all that Ilya had given up. He suddenly felt like maybe he'd imposted a bit too much. A wave of guilt crashed over him.

"You don't have to be sorry about that. I'm sorry that I made this all more complicated." Luca said. 

"You didn't make it more complicated." Ilya said immediately. Luca wasn't quite sure if he believed Ilya but he didn't protest.

"We just weren't sure how to tell you." Shane offered. 

"The league is still...weird." Ilya sighed.

Luca understood what he meant. The league back home was also weird, as Ilya put it, though he sensed that Ilya had a few other words he'd like to use instead. 

Shane's eyes fell to his plate of half-eaten food. Luca sensed he wasn't entirely there with them as his eyes glazed over. Ilya placed a gentle hand over Shane's on the table and Luca looked between them inconspicuously. Luca knew the feeling all too well as he watched Shane slowly come back into his body; Ilya's touch grounded him in the moment with them. Luca rolled his shoulders back to relieve some tension in his own body.

"So," He cleared his throat in an attempt to change the conversation, “How long have you guys been together?”

He took a careful sip of his tea as he watched them communicate silently. Their ability to do so made Luca think it had been awhile.

“That’s a bit of a tricky question.” Shane admitted with a shaky laugh, “Dating? About two and a half years.”

“Fucking? Over ten years.” Ilya chimed in.

Luca choked on his tea. 

“Ilya.” Shane groaned and smacked his arm disapprovingly. Ilya just laughed as Luca coughed in front of them. His eyes watered and he turned an impossible shade of red as he collected himself.

“I’m sorry, what?” Luca finally managed to say, a hand pressed to his chest. 

“What Ilya is trying to say is that we’ve been together for a long time.” Shane glared over at Ilya. He looked like an angry kitten but he never let go of the firm grip he had on Ilya's hand. 

“Since before our rookie year.” Ilya added helpfully.

“Wow.” Luca exhaled, “Pardon my French but that’s fucking crazy.”

Shane laughed.

“Ah oui, vous parlez français ?" Shane slipped into his second language with ease. Ilya furrowed his brows.

“Oui, c'est ma langue maternelle. Mais je parle le vrai français.” A slow grin crept onto Luca’s face. Shane gasped jokingly. 

“Hey, let's stick to English!” Ilya protested before they could get any further. 

“Il est juste jaloux. Il n'est pas aussi cool que nous.” Shane quipped.

Luca laughed as Shane smiled lovingly over at Ilya, who crossed his arms over his chest protectively and scowled between the pair. He had no idea what can of worms he’d just opened by introducing Luca to his French-speaking boyfriend; Luca was excited at the possibilities.

“Okay wait, so when we went to the Hollander’s for dinner?” Luca trailed off, bringing them back to the original conversation. Ilya nodded and Luca chuckled dryly to himself.

“I should’ve known.” Luca's head fell back as he wiped a hand over his face. He had naively thought that the charity brought them closer together, but now that he knew they were dating, it all made so much more sense. Yuna kept Ilya’s favourite ice cream in their freezer and David had made Ilya’s favourite meal, wearing an apron that Ilya had gotten him for Christmas the year before. He was so stupid.

Shane and Ilya simply smiled at him.

“So this,” He gestured between them, “--is why you moved to Ottawa? And started the charity?” 

“Exactly. I moved to Ottawa to be closer to Shane once my contract with Boston was up.” Ilya confirmed. 

Huh, Luca thought. If only his younger self knew that was why his favourite player up and left Boston out of nowhere. It would’ve saved his younger self a lot of tears. Probably would’ve helped his younger self in other ways, too. He pushed the thought aside as Shane continued.

“And then we started the charity to sort of change the media’s narrative about us.” Shane supplemented, "Although that’s been a bit harder to shake.”

Luca nodded to himself and took another sip of his tea. He watched them both growing up so he knew all about their heated rivalry. He tried to imagine how his 10 year-old self would react to this if he could see them now; he would be equally confused and enamoured by it all. Luca felt oddly at peace as they sat together, almost like he was sitting with two old friends, not Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander. He tried to cherish the moment, for both his younger self and his current self; something told him he would look back on this moment fondly one day. 

“And how many people know?” Luca looked at Ilya this time.

“Not many.” Ilya admitted solemnly.

Shane jumped in, “My parents, my best friend Hayden and his wife Jackie, Rose Landry–”

“Oh shit, I forgot you dated her!” Luca’s jaw dropped.

Ilya laughed as Shane’s cheeks flushed.

“Yeah, well, she knows. And then Ilya’s friend, Svetlana.” Shane looked over at Ilya, doing that whole non-verbal communication thing, and Ilya shook his head ever so slightly. Luca didn’t read too much into it and neither did Shane as he turned his attention back to the boy with a small smile.

“Well thank you for trusting me with this.” Luca looked between the pair earnestly, “Your secret is safe with me.”

Shane smiled wider at him, followed quickly by Ilya, albeit with a different air about him.  

“Any more questions?” Ilya asked. Luca thought about it a moment before he shook his head.

“I think that’s it. For now.” Luca smiled.

“Okay good, because I want to watch you kick Shane’s ass at Chel.” Ilya grinned cheekily.

He popped up from the table with the air of a little kid on Christmas morning. Shane rolled his eyes and grumbled about how he had to be back for practice later that afternoon; Ilya reassured him that they would only play for an hour, which gave Shane plenty of time to get back before practice. They tried to clear the table but Ilya whined at them so they begrudgingly left it for later, and resigned to the living room where Luca did, in fact, end up kicking Shane’s ass at Chel.

///

“I think that went well.” Shane said as he shrugged on his puffer jacket, “He’s a good kid.”

Ilya smiled over at the stairs where Luca had just left to give them a moment alone. Shane and Luca had exchanged their pleasant goodbyes and Luca apologized for the billionth time about the night before. Shane only chuckled at him as they swapped numbers, which caught Luca by surprise and made Ilya’s heart swoon. He told Luca to text him whenever he wanted which made him blush considerably less than Ilya suspected as he jogged up the stairs.

“Da, he is.” 

Shane placed his slides back onto the rack and replaced them with his running shoes. When he stood again, he pulled Ilya into a long hug. Ilya melted into Shane’s arms and tucked his head into the crook of Shane’s neck, placing a soft kiss there. A pit of sadness bloomed in his stomach again.

“I don’t want you to go.” He admitted softly. Shane rubbed a hand up and down his back.

“It’s just a few more days.” Shane said calmly. 

Ottawa played Montreal in their first face-off of the season the following week and Ilya was really looking forward to it. He couldn’t wait to sleep in Shane’s bed again and steal one of his sweaters for the road trip they had right afterwards. That was until Shane had surprised him the night before and he got a small taste of having Shane and Luca under one roof. 

He liked it. No, he actually loved it; he realized that as soon as he watched them casually chatting at breakfast. Ilya thought about all of the meals he could make for them in the future and how Shane could sleepover after their Ottawa games without a second thought. He thought about family dinners at the Hollander’s whenever their schedules lined up and he loved the way that Shane and Luca shoved each other whenever one of them scored in Chel. He didn’t even mind it when they made fun of him in French. Ilya was experiencing a peace he hadn’t known existed before and he wanted more of it.

“Right, just a few more days.” He nodded to himself as he pulled away from Shane to press a gentle kiss on his lips. When he pulled away, Shane leaned in for another one and then sent him a soft smile.

“Ya tebya lyublyu.” Shane said.

“Ya lyublyu tebya yeshche bol'she.” Ilya grinned.

“Not possible.” Shane furrowed his eyebrows which only made Ilya grin wider. 

He pressed a gentle kiss between Shane’s eyebrows and then opened the door for him. He waved to him as Shane pulled out of his driveway and then gently closed the door once he couldn’t see him past the privacy gate.

The sadness returned. He fell back against the door and slid down to the floor, knees tucked up under his chin. His eyes glazed over as he stared at Shane’s slides on the shoe rack in front of him. 

One tear fell, followed by another, and Ilya let them.

He sat there for what felt like forever. Eventually he forced himself to clean the house from the events of the night before, choosing to ignore the heaviness in his chest for the rest of the day.

Chapter End Notes

Just want to reiterate that while this fic will loosely follow TLG, I'm just kinda going with whatever here!

I also haven't read any of the books other than HR and TLG, still putting those off so that I'll be entertained til 2027 lol

Chapter 9: Unsure

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, November 2020

“It was a bad day!” Luca defended as he slammed the door shut. They rounded the car and walked towards a coffee shop Eric found downtown. He insisted that they make a pit stop before their practice that day and Luca obliged, knowing that Ilya had a bunch of captains meetings he’d have to sit around for if he didn’t. 

“Whatever you say, Haasy.” Eric chuckled. He reached the door first and held it open for Luca.

“I’m serious. If we did that pull-up competition again, I’m not coming last.” Luca huffed.

He wasn’t entirely convinced by his own words as they walked into the coffee shop but Eric let it go. They reached the counter where a short girl with curly brown hair was already smiling up at them.

“Hey, what can I get you?” Her eyes danced between the pair. Luca ordered his tea and then stepped aside for Eric to order his latte. He pulled out his wallet to pay, seeing as Eric drove, which only led to a bit of arguing. The barista giggled at them as she typed their orders in and then cleared the price. Luca’s eyebrows furrowed down at the iPad.

“It’s on the house.” She smiled up at him and then over at Eric, who was equally confused.

“Sorry?” Eric asked.

“It’s on the house. Consider it good luck for your game tomorrow.” She insisted as she started to prepare Luca’s tea. 

“That’s really kind of you but please let us pay for it.” Eric tried again. She reached over and turned the coffee machine on, the loud sound blocking out Eric’s words.

“Hmm? Sorry, I can’t hear you.” She exaggerated how loud her voice had to be over the machine, which was loud, but not that loud. Eric chuckled and she grinned over at him as she poured some milk into Luca’s tea.

“For you.” She slid the tea towards Luca. 

“Thank you,” He looked shyly at her name tag, "Isabelle."

Luca turned just as she sent him a soft smile of appreciation. He decided to grab them a table in the corner as Eric waited for his own drink. As he slid into the booth, his eyes wandered over to the two of them. Isabelle’s head fell back as she laughed at something Eric said. Luca couldn’t quite hear them from this distance but he noticed the way that Eric looked at Isabelle and the way that she looked back at him; it was the same look he gave Luca when they were joking around in practice, slightly teasing but all around enamoured. Luca forced himself to look out the window as he waited for Eric’s drink to be made. It seemed to be taking longer than usual.

“Can you believe that?” Eric whispered as he slid into the seat across from Luca. He snapped his head over to him, eyebrows raised.

“That she wouldn’t let us pay?” Eric added.

“Oh, yeah.” Luca hummed. His eyes danced back over to Isabelle who was smiling to herself as she cleaned the milk frother. He fiddled with the sleeve on his to-go cup. 

“I think that’s the weirdest thing about being a hockey player, you have all this money and yet people want to give you things for free.” Eric chuckled and Luca reluctantly joined in.

“Yeah, it makes no sense.” He agreed, “Though I think that was about more than just being a hockey player.”

Eric grinned down at his latte. 

“Might have to come back here more often.” He offered. Luca simply nodded and looked back out the window, choosing to ignore the way his stomach twisted as Eric found a new topic to dive into.

When they got to the arena a little while later, Luca didn’t feel like himself. His stomach was unsettled and his palms were a bit clammy as they trudged down the hallway toward the lounge. Before practices and workouts, the team would always have a catered lunch waiting for them. It was one of Luca's favourite things about being a professional athlete–-all of the free perks. For Eric, though, that extended to free coffees from pretty baristas, not just team lunches. Luca couldn't shake the thought as Eric held the door to the lounge open for him with a wide smile. Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry. 

“You go ahead, I just gotta do something first.” He clapped Eric on the shoulder and kept walking down the hallway, completely ignoring Eric’s confused expression, as he picked up his pace towards the locker room. 

When he walked in, he expected it to be empty. They still had well over an hour before their practice started and most of the guys would be in the lounge, if they were here at all. So when he stumbled into the locker room and crashed directly into someone, it threw him off.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” Luca breathed out as he grabbed Harris by the shoulders to steady him. Harris clutched onto his phone as he met Luca’s gaze with a frightened one of his own. 

“Oh, Luca, it’s just you.” He chuckled nervously as he reached up to fix his glasses on the bridge of his nose. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Luca flushed. 

He averted his eyes and made his way over to his locker. He started digging around in his bag until he found the small notebook and pencil case that he left in there. It wasn’t nearly as large as the note books he kept at home but he liked having a travel sized option in case he felt nervous in between practices or games; just something for small doodles here and there, and sometimes tic-tac-toe with whoever wanted to play on long plane journeys.

“Whatcha up to?” Luca called over his shoulder. His tone was surprisingly casual as he fumbled with the zipper on his bag. Harris paid him no mind as he took photos of the guys' stalls.

“Making an Instagram post, just some silly trend.” He smiled and then came to stand beside Luca to look at his stall. Luca felt a little uneasy as they stared at it together in contemplative silence. 

Harris hummed, “This is pretty organized for a rookie.” 

Luca raised an eyebrow, “Uh, thank you?”

Harris chuckled.

“I’m posting pictures of the stalls and seeing if the fans can guess whose is whose.” He said it like it made any sense to Luca. It did not.

Harris snapped a picture of Luca’s stall, intentionally cropping out the plaque with his name and number engraved above it. Luca didn’t quite see the vision Harris was going for but he didn’t question it; they all knew Harris was the best at his job, so it was best to just let him do his thing.

“What’re you up to?” Harris turned to him with a small smile. His eyes fell to Luca’s hands which were clutching onto the notebook and pencil case for dear life. 

“Just wanted to get some drawing in before practice.” Luca admitted sheepishly.

“That’s a good idea,” Harris said after a moment, “Do you need somewhere quiet to work? You can use my office!”

Luca wanted to protest, to say that he was fine going to work in the lounge with the rest of the guys, that he could just pop in some earbuds and block them all out. If he was being honest with himself, though, the idea of sitting in Harris’ quiet office away from everyone for a little while brought him a lot of comfort. Luca didn’t have to say anything before Harris started leading them out of the room.

“C’mon, let’s get you set up. Then I can go grab us some lunch.” He offered as Luca followed him like a quiet puppy back down the hallway. His nerves already started to settle.

///

Ilya drummed his fingers on the conference room table as they finished up their captains meeting. It had been a long morning preparing for their first game against Montreal, trying to figure out the best attack with Bood and the best defense with Chouinard. He tapped on his phone to check the time as Coach Wiebe scribbled out a few more plays on the whiteboard. They should be done soon.

There was a knock at the door and Ilya silently hoped it was one of the assistants informing them that lunch was ready. Instead, Troy walked in. Ilya furrowed his eyebrows.

“Barrett, thanks for joining us.” Coach Wiebe gestured for him to take the empty seat beside Chouinard and he did so quietly. He looked around the room, equally as confused as Ilya was, before he turned his attention to Coach again. 

“Okay, let me just get this set up…” Coach’s voice trailed off as he tapped away at the iPad in front of him. Suddenly a video popped up on the screen, a highlight reel of Luca’s, dating back to his time in Switzerland, seemingly edited together with newer clips from their practices and games. 

“Coach, why are we watching Haasy’s clips?” Chouinard asked quietly, not wanting to break anyone’s attention away from the screen. It seemed to do little as they were all transfixed by the footage; he was just so easy to watch. Just as a clip came up of Luca and Troy running a drill during one of their practices, Coach paused it.

“I think it would be a good idea to push Haas up to line one.” He announced.

Ilya stiffened in his chair. He looked sideways at Bood who appeared entirely indifferent to the suggestion. Ilya suspected that he’d already had this conversation with Coach Wiebe–-he would never blindside Bood like that, not even in their captains meetings–-which made him feel a bit more comfortable with the idea. He was still wary as his eyes flicked around the room to gauge his teammates' reactions.

The truth was that Ilya had been eyeing Luca since he was drafted. He knew that Luca would make a great right wing on their second line, especially with Young as their center, but he would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about Luca’s potential on the first line. He never said anything to Coach about it; he respected Bood too much and he trusted that Coach Wiebe would see it for himself in due time, so he stayed silent. After a long silence--which could've easily been 5 minutes or 5 seconds, Ilya wasn't quite sure--Bood spoke up.

“I think he’d be a great addition to the first line,” Bood flicked his pen around in the hand he had resting on the table, “He’s got speed, he’s strong. We might need to work on his confidence but I’m sure playing with Ilya will help with that.”

Bood smiled at Ilya from across the table which he quickly returned. Ilya leaned back in his chair more comfortably. 

“I agree. And I think pushing Bood to second line will give us more depth.” Ilya said. That brought a new warmth to Bood’s smile.

“Barrett, what do you think? Would you be comfortable trying left wing again?” Coach asked him. Troy sat up a bit straighter in his chair.

“I could give it a shot.” He offered.

Once upon a time, when Troy still played with the Toronto Guardians, he was a left winger. His transition to right wing when he first joined the Centaurs was smoother than Ilya had suspected it would be; turns out Troy is ambidextrous, and also incredibly stubborn, two of the many things that made him a dangerous player on the ice. Ilya felt his chest grow warm at the thought of the three of them on a line together. They would be unstoppable. 

“Great. Let’s try it out in practice today and see how it goes.”

Coach Wiebe excused them for lunch and they all filed silently out of the room. Barrett and Chouinard fell into a quiet conversation which gave Ilya the chance to catch up with Bood. He clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“You okay?” He asked. Bood smiled sideways at him as they walked down the hallway. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Wiebe talked to me about it last week.” He admitted.

“I’m sorry, Bood.” Ilya tried but Bood just shook his head.

“Don’t be. I’m happy to do whatever it takes for us to get the Cup.” 

Ilya took him at his word and didn’t push any further as they neared the lounge which, by the sound of it, was already full of their teammates. Bood was incredibly selfless, Ilya knew this, but he couldn’t help but feel bad for the guy. If Ilya were in that position he didn’t know if he’d take it as well; but Ilya wasn’t Bood, and if he’d learned anything over the past couple years, it was that Bood loved this team more than anything. Deep down Ilya knew that extended to Luca and he silently hoped that Luca would understand that when they made the change in practice later that day.

As they lined up to get their pre-packaged lunches, Ilya looked over at the couches in the corner of the room where he'd often find the rookies goofing around. Today, it was only Young and LaPointe. They were tucked behind LaPointe's phone as they watched some video together, laughing and pointing at whatever it was on the screen. Luca was nowhere to be found. Ilya looked around for a moment, confusion etched across his face, as he looked for him. Before he could get anywhere, he was pulled to a table on the other side of the room and into a conversation he didn’t pay much attention to for the rest of the lunch.

///

Luca wasn’t entirely focussed when he got ready for practice later that afternoon. The quiet time in Harris’ office was a welcomed distraction though; him with his earbuds in as he doodled and Harris typing away on his laptop, both of them quietly munching on the sandwiches that the team had catered for the day. It gave him a moment to himself to breathe and steady his nerves, but by the time he got back onto the ice, surrounded by his loud teammates, the nerves started to resurface.

Lines 1 and 2 were set-up across from one another on the ice as Coach Wiebe skated over from the player’s box. Luca stood with his stick pressed across his hip bones. He watched Eric and Ilya whispering at the center circle, Ilya’s eyes flickering over to Luca every now and then. Luca's eyes followed their Coach as he skated past him, clipboard in hand. 

“Okay, guys. We’re going to do a bit of shuffling here just to figure some things out.” He announced to no one in particular, “Barrett can I get you over on left wing. And then Bood, can I get you to switch with Haas?”

What?

Everyone looked at him, equally shocked, as he stared wide eyed at Coach. Bood skated towards him, clearly unfazed by the switch, but Luca couldn’t bring himself to move. His stomach lurched as Bood came closer.

“Go ahead, Haasy. It’s all yours.” Bood smiled.

He came to a gentle stop beside Luca who just stared back at him with his jaw hung open. There was no malicious intent behind Bood’s words but he still wasn’t sure. He looked over at Coach Wiebe who nodded once at him, reassuringly, and then at Ilya who had a small smile on his face; clearly they’d all chatted about this before practice. He gulped and skated quietly over to the right wing spot on the first line. Ilya squeezed his shoulder as he passed him.

During their pre-season, they’d played around with the lines a bit and Luca got to play on the first line for a shift or two. He cherished it while he could but he knew he wouldn’t see the first line for a long time–or so he thought. They'd barely made a dent into the regular season schedule and he was already being pushed up. He took a deep breath as he found his new spot on the ice.

“Okay, let’s try this out for a bit and see how everyone feels.” Coach Wiebe announced. He exchanged a few words with Troy as he skated over to the players box to join the rest of their teammates and coaching staff. One of their assistant coaches came out with a puck and whistle in hand.

Ilya and Eric leaned over for the face-off, which Ilya won with ease, and then they were off. 

By the time they got into the car that evening, Luca’s skin was on fire. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to ground himself. He’d managed to make it through the practice without messing up but he kept mostly to himself in the locker room afterwards, even when his fellow rookies rushed over to congratulate him after practice. Eric gave him one of his award winning smiles which only made him feel better for a few fleeting moments before they headed for the showers. The sound of Ilya’s car door shutting brought him back into his body.

“What’s wrong?” He sounded worried, which made Luca curse to himself. He just wanted to go home and lay in bed until his body came down from this day. When Ilya didn't turn on the car and instead leaned over to place his water bottle in the cup holder and leisurely search Luca's face, he let out a shaky breath. 

“Just feeling a bit anxious.” His head fall back against the headrest, eyes still forward as they focused and unfocused on the parking garage.

Ilya nodded slowly and turned the car on. He immediately scrolled through his phone to play Luca’s playlist and pulled out of the parking garage with ease. Luca let his eyes flutter closed and tried his best to be distracted by one of his favourite songs as it hummed in the background. It was quiet, but Luca appreciated the effort it took for his brain to focus on it. He rubbed his palms up and down his thighs.

“Is it about the lines?” Ilya prompted.

“It’s just been a long day.” Luca admitted. He couldn’t quite name what was making him anxious at that very moment; so much and yet so little had happened over the day. It didn't even make sense to his brain, let alone Ilya's, but it was just easier to just push through this conversation as best he could before he could isolate himself at home. Maybe a shower would feel good.

The song was doing little to distract his anxiety as the back of his throat started to feel tingly. He reached for Ilya’s water bottle and squeezed some into his mouth. It felt good. Ilya didn't say anything about it.

“Bood isn’t mad at you, I was just talking to him about it.” Ilya said. 

Luca couldn’t quite absorb Ilya’s words. He was too distracted by the warmth that crept up the back of his neck. Was it getting hotter in here? Ilya looked over at him for a moment and then he blasted the AC, even though it was November and it most definitely was not getting hotter in the car. The cool air on his face felt nice and he relaxed just a little bit as he concentrated on the sensation. He let go of another shaky breath.

“I don’t want him to hate me.” Luca admitted. 

He had a lot of respect for Bood. He owed that man a lot for all of his pep talks and unwavering support over the past couple of months. Ilya was obviously his vet, the one who took him under his wing full time, but Bood was everybody’s vet. He’d been with the Centaurs since he was drafted by them many years ago. Everyone looked up to him and trusted his leadership. Luca felt like he was challenging that by replacing him on the first line.

“Bood would never hate you.” He insisted.

Luca let out a pathetic laugh, “I took his spot on the first line, Ilya, of course he’s going to hate me. At least a little bit.”

“Bood knows what’s best for the team. We talked about it before practice. He was more than happy to step down to the second line.” Ilya said.

Ilya’s eyes danced between Luca and the road, trying to convince the rookie of what he knew to be true. Luca didn’t believe him, instead he turned to look at the bare trees they passed on the highway. His stomach was still doing flips. He squeezed some more water into his mouth. 

“Luca.” Ilya warned. Luca took a deep breath and turned to face him.

“What?” He mumbled.

“We all want to win this year, and with you here, we can do that. Coach knows that, Bood knows that–-heck, everyone knows that.” He stared at Luca for a little too long for his liking as his own eyes darted to watch the road, “You need to know that, too.”

When Ilya finally turned his attention back to the road, settled Luca a bit more. He replayed Ilya’s words in his head. Deep down he knew he was right, otherwise Coach wouldn’t have swapped them, but he couldn’t accept it. Confidence was something that he had always struggled with, and it was the biggest thing he got feedback on; whether that be from his coaches, teachers, or even his own parents throughout his life. Luca knew he was good--great, even, after being drafted second overall a few years ago–-but knowing you’re good and accepting that you’re good are two different things. He played with the chewed up mouth piece on Ilya's water bottle. 

“I think I might need to spend a bit more time in the weightroom if I’m going to be playing on the first line.” He admitted shyly. Ilya didn’t laugh, he just smiled sideways at the boy.

“We can do that.”

///

When they got home that evening, they cooked dinner together. Well, Ilya cooked and Luca silently watched him from the island. Ilya could tell that he wanted to be alone, to decompress or maybe even continue spiralling. But in the event that it was the latter, Ilya forced him to stay in his sight for just a little bit longer. Once he plated their food, he slid Luca’s over to him and walked over to the living room. Usually they would watch How I Met Your Mother while they ate, a tradition they’d started on Luca’s first night, but Ilya had other things in mind.

He connected his phone to the TV and pulled up the video they’d watched in his captains meeting earlier that day; he had asked Coach for it after he watched Luca quickly leave the practice facility without saying goodbye to anyone. As Luca fell back into the couch, plate of food in hand, he furrowed his eyebrows at the screen.

“What’s this?” He peered over at Ilya.

“These are your highlights.” Ilya said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He pressed play. 

“Ilya–”

“Just watch.”

Luca watched the video in silence. Anytime Luca had a good shot or connection with a teammate, Ilya would compliment it. Good pass? Compliment. Clean hit? Compliment. He would share some of the thoughts he’d heard from Bood or Wiebe earlier that day, or just come up with something on the spot, as they watched each clip. In one clip, Luca and Young seemed to read one another’s minds in a way that he’d only seen with himself and Shane at past All Stars games. He pointed that out, which made Luca blush furiously, and suggested that if they spent some more time with one another on the ice, maybe before and after practices, they could get there too. 

It all came to Ilya quite naturally; mainly because Luca was an easy player to watch. He knew Luca would have a great career in the MLH, there was no questioning it, and he considered himself lucky to be a small part of it. Luca just took it all in silently until the video ended and they sat in darkness. Ilya carefully turned to look at Luca who stared at the black screen, his brows stitched together ever so slightly as he contemplated everything Ilya had just said.

He straightened his shoulders and then nodded to himself once. 

“Thank you.” He whispered as he finally met Ilya's eyes. Ilya felt his chest relax under a pressure he hadn't realized he was holding onto. 

“Of course.” Ilya smiled.

Chapter End Notes

A bit of flip flopping this chapter but I just love writing from both of their perspectives!

Also, I'm curious how you guys picture Luca? Do you have a fan cast? I'm still deliberating on my own :)

Chapter 10: Montreal

Chapter Notes

Montreal, November 2020

The team arrived in Montreal, fresh off a 2 hour bus ride that consisted of Bood and Dykstra scream-singing country music into the mic. The bus driver looked pretty pissed but it made for good social media content and Harris didn’t hesitate to share it on the team’s Instagram. When they got to the hotel, Ilya was grateful to have his own room to rest in ahead of the game. He’d arranged an emergency therapy session with Galina after the heaviness of the past few days. He was still deciding if that was a good idea now that he had Galina staring back at him over the screen.

“It sounds like you’ve had a busy week.” Galina joked after Ilya explained everything that led up to him booking this session. Ilya chuckled to himself but his foot bounced nervously under the desk. 

“You want to tell me how you’ve been feeling about it all?” She prompted. 

He heaved a sigh as his eyes traveled over to the window; the sky was grey in Montreal when they arrived, not very different from Ottawa, he noted. Even still, he hoped it was a bit sunnier here, even though they wouldn’t get much time outside ahead of their game.

“I thought I would be happier.” He admitted in Russian, letting his eyes find the screen again, “But… I’m not.”

“And why is that?” She fell back into their mother tongue with ease, head cocked to the side.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” There was no bite to his words. Galina sent him a half smile.

“Do you really want my thoughts?” She asked. Ilya’s foot was still bouncing. He nodded, “That’s not how this works.”

Ilya knew that but he was still slightly disappointed by her words. He sat up a bit straighter in his chair and pushed the laptop back so that he could rest his arms on the table.

“I just thought that when I finally got to tell one of my teammates about Shane that I would feel relieved but I don’t.” He sighed. When Galina didn’t say anything, he continued, “I think it made me want to tell even more people.”

Galina hummed, “That’s reasonable.”

“Is it?” Ilya asked. 

He thought back to how nervous Shane was when Luca found them in the living room. Even if it had turned out fine, which Ilya knew it would, Shane wouldn’t let anything else slip. He was starting to pull tighter on the reins that already made Ilya feel constrained. Heck, he uninvited Ilya from a pre-game lunch with his parents because he was worried that people would see them out in public together and start to draw new conclusions. 

Ilya had been to plenty of events with the Hollanders since starting the charity a couple years ago. He naively thought they were getting to a place where Shane felt more comfortable; to a place where seeing Ilya Rozanov out for lunch with the Hollanders was nothing to draft headlines about. But now, with Shane scared again, Ilya had to respect that. He told him it was fine, that he could visit Yuna and David whenever he wanted to, but he couldn’t ignore the pit of sadness that grew in his stomach when he thought about not being there.

“I think so.” Galina hummed, “You let Luca in and it went well. You got a taste of what that might be like with other people–that sense of normalcy.”

Ilya nodded to himself. 

“I think there’s something deeper here, though.” Galina commented after a moment. Ilya raised an eyebrow to encourage her to continue. She did, “I think that having Luca around has brought some other stuff to the surface. Maybe around your own family?”

Ilya’s foot started bouncing again as they stared at each other through the screen. 

“Da, I’ve heard children bring out the worst in us.” He joked in English. She chuckled but didn’t let him get away with the easy distraction.

“Do you think maybe stepping into this father figure role for Luca has made other things challenging?” She asked seriously, switching them back to Russian. 

“I think so, maybe.” He shrugged as if it was the easiest thing to admit, “Might be weird to build a home that is different from what I am used to.”

Galina stared at him for a moment longer.

“It’s probably more than weird.” She offered.

It was definitely more than weird. Ilya was completely out of his depth here. That was one of the main reasons he was hesitant to bring Luca into his home but now, over a month later, he couldn’t imagine his life any differently. He had quickly gotten used to having Luca there; driving to and from practice with someone else scrolling through his playlists, making dinner together, watching shows. He didn’t grow up in a “living room family”, as Shane had called it once, and he didn’t think he would get to experience whatever that was for a long time; not until they were both retired and started a family of their own. Luca was a pleasant surprise. The thought of a home without Luca in it, once the season ended and he found his own place, brought him a feeling that he didn’t quite understand. He pushed that thought aside for now; that wouldn’t be a problem for a long time.

“Do you think you’re doing a good enough job for Luca?” 

Galina's question cut through his thoughts like a knife. Ilya released a shaky breath. Whatever he was paying her was simply not enough, he decided, as he forced himself to answer the question.

///

“What do you want, Rozanov?” Shane grumbled into the phone. Ilya grinned. 

“Ah so you are not happy to hear from your boyfriend?” Ilya tutted.

“Something tells me you’re trying to throw off my game.” Shane replied before a blender loudly came to life in the background. Ilya pictured a gross, green coloured concoction and tried not to gag at the thought.

“I just wanted to hear your voice.” Ilya said as he fell back onto his bed. He’d just wrapped up his heavy session with Galina and decided he needed a distraction before he went to find his teammates. There was a pause on the other end of the phone.

“Are we still on for tonight?” Shane asked.

“Of course.” Ilya said.

“Okay,” Shane sighed happily, “Do you think you could stay the night or do you have an early flight to catch?”

Ilya pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought back to the schedule Luca had stuck to the fridge.

“It's early but I can probably stay over.”

“Only if you’re okay with that.” Shane offered, “And if no one will notice.”

“They know about Montreal Girl.” Ilya joked. 

Shane groaned, “I hate that. Makes me feel like some sort of friends with benefits.”

“Don’t worry, you have been upgraded from that.” Ilya joked. 

Shane chuckled from the other end of the line. They fell into an easy conversation for a few more minutes before Shane had to leave for lunch with his parents. Ilya ignored the pang in his chest.

“Have fun, moya lyubov.” Ilya smiled as he hung up the phone and started to pack his bag for the arena. 

///

The energy in the Bell Centre that night was electric, unlike anything Luca had experienced so far in the MLH or elsewhere. It was a close game, tied 2-2, as they neared the end of the second period. Both teams were fighting their hardest, playing strategically, and Luca was anxious to get back on the ice every time he was on the bench. His leg bounced with adrenaline as he watched Bood and Eric passing the puck back and forth in Montreal's defensive end.

It was a bit weird seeing the two of them play together like this. He was still getting used to being on the first line but he found that Ilya and Troy could keep up with him in a way that he hadn’t experienced before. Montreal’s first line seemed surprised when Luca skated onto the ice for puck drop and Shane intentionally slowed his stride as he skated past him towards the face-off circle.

“First line, eh?” He grinned sideways at Luca.

Luca smiled down at his feet before he bent over to prepare for puck drop. It didn’t take long for Montreal to adjust to his style of play. He was definitely one of the faster guys on the ice, but he kept getting stuck with one of their largest and most aggressive defenders, Comeau. Ilya had warned Luca about him before the game; about his style of play but also the things he would say under his breath in between plays. Luca wondered if the Voyageurs knew he spoke French as he heard a lot of things he probably shouldn't have on the ice that night. He was wondering if that was getting to his head now as he sat on the bench, leg bouncing nervously, his eyes never leaving the puck as it darted around the ice.

Ilya leaned across Troy with the iPad and nudged Luca to get his attention.

“See this,” He pointed at the screen, “Do you think you can get past Comeau on the inside instead?” 

Luca squeezed some water into his mouth as he watched Ilya rewind the clip again. He had been forced into the boards, hard, in his last attempt to sneak behind the large defender which resulted in a turnover. He nodded to himself.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

Ilya nodded too and leaned back to watch the game again. 

The next time they were on the ice, Luca had every intention of taking Ilya’s advice, but they'd gotten stuck in their defensive zone for a bit. And then it happened. One of Montreal’s defenders made a lazy pass that Luca managed to poke away with his stick in the neutral zone and he was off. He couldn’t remember a time he’d flown faster down the ice but he was on a breakaway and coming closer to their goalie with every millisecond that passed. He dragged the puck one way, then the other on his stick, and flicked the puck off the backside of his blade through the goalie's outstretched legs. Luca watched it slide into the net in slow motion just as the buzzer sound rang. 

He threw his arms up as he came to a stop in the corner of the rink. The handful of Ottawa fans who were sitting behind the glass pounded on it loudly as the rest of his teammates caught up to him. Ilya was the first to pull him into a hug. Troy, Chouinard, and Dykstra joined shortly after. 

“I knew you could do it!” Ilya grinned down at him.

“Hell yeah, rook!” Troy patted his helmet.

“Let’s get another one, boys!” Chouinard beamed.

Luca grinned at his teammates. He only got to bask in the moment for a few minutes before Shane quickly tied the game again. He could’ve sworn Ilya made a comment to Shane about it as they prepared for the next face-off; Shane smiled over at Luca sympathetically right before Ilya won the face-off.

After a hard fought game, which they lost 4-3, they lined up at center ice and shook each of the Voyageur’s hands respectfully. Ilya was a few men in front of Luca in the line, and he watched as Ilya and Shane exchanged a few quiet words with one another. After a few more handshakes, Luca was face to face with Shane. He bit the inside of his cheek to tame the wide smile that wanted to surface. Shane took his hand and gave it a firm shake. 

“Good game, rook.” Shane smiled kindly. 

“Thanks, Hollander. You too.” He replied sheepishly. 

Shane lingered for a moment, almost as if he wanted to say more, but then he clapped him on the shoulder and continued down the line. Luca smiled to himself as he shook the hand of the guy waiting right behind Shane. He’d watched their whole interaction with a lopsided smile on his face. This must be Hayden Pike, Luca realized, as they exchanged pleasantries with a knowing smile on both of their faces. It was something small between them that no one else had privy to.

When they got back to the locker room, Bood announced that they were all going to a club downtown. Luca was exhausted. He wondered how a bunch of old men had the energy to go out drinking and clubbing as often as they did, but he wasn’t going to pass up on the opportunity to celebrate with his teammates, especially after the game they’d just played. When he managed to get dressed and down to the hotel lobby over an hour later, he wasn’t entirely surprised that Ilya wasn’t there. Once they finally got to the club and had a few drinks, empty shot glasses littered around the table, others started to notice. 

“Where’s Roz?” Eric asked loudly over the music. He leaned across Luca so that some of the other guys around the booth could hear him. Luca pressed himself further into the booth as Eric lingered there. He could smell the vodka on his breath.

Chouinard chuckled from Luca’s other side, “Oh you didn’t know? Roz has a girl in Montreal. Whenever we’re here, he disappears.” 

Luca smiled down at his drink as Eric asked the guys a bunch of follow-up questions. They had answers, none of which were correct, but Luca didn’t say anything. The club was loud and dark, with strobe lights blinding Luca every now and then as he took in his surroundings. He wasn’t the biggest fan of clubs, he preferred post-game celebrations in quieter settings, like Monks back home. He did, however, like the shenanigans they got up to during post-game celebrations so he sipped nervously on his drink as they all chatted.

“Okay, who wants to dance?” Dykstra stood up suddenly. He started shimmying as he pointed at each of the guys.

“Absolutely not.” Troy was entirely unimpressed when Dykstra pointed at him and wiggled his eyebrows. He sank deeper into the booth and Harris leaned in to say something quietly to him. Luca watched them out of the corner of his eye.

“I’ll go.” Hayes popped up to join him and so did Bood, drinks in hand. They quickly pulled Harris up with them. He laughed loudly as Hayes twirled him around once. Troy rolled his eyes at them.

“Rooks?” Dykstra danced over to their end of the table. Luca, whose brain was already a bit foggy, wanted to be swallowed whole by the booth. Eric on the other hand downed the rest of his drink and slid out of the booth. They all turned to Luca with waiting eyes.

“I’m going to keep Troy company.” Luca chuckled nervously. Troy smiled into his beer as the guys all pouted and disagreed loudly.

“Oh come on,” Eric whined as he leaned over to grab Luca’s wrist. He didn’t budge.

“No, absolutely not.” He leaned a bit closer to Troy who watched them inconspicuously. The rest of the guys started dancing their way over to the floor of sweaty bodies. Luca scrunched his nose at the idea of being a part of that.

“Please? For me?” Eric batted his eyelashes at Luca dramatically. His cheeks flushed. 

“I’ve got him. You go have fun!” Troy threw an arm around Luca’s shoulder to keep him in place. Eric only slightly pouted as he gave up and found the rest of the guys on the dance floor.

Luca sighed, “Thank you.”

“No worries.” Troy chuckled and removed his arm. 

He took a sip of his beer as his eyes scanned the room. Luca looked sideways at him. He hadn’t talked to Troy all that much since he joined the team; they would talk during practice about whatever drills they were doing, or what play they wanted to run next, but that was about it. Even then, Ilya was there to facilitate most of their interactions, so Luca found himself a bit stumped as he sat beside Troy in the loud club.

“Do you like clubs?” He leaned in to ask. 

Troy shook his head, “Not at all.”

“Then why do you come?” He furrowed his brows. Troy turned to meet his gaze.

“Why do you?” He retorted.

His eyes were an intimidating shade of blue as they bore into Luca’s own. He nervously glanced over at the dance floor where their teammates were dancing horribly. He watched as Eric’s head fell back with laughter as some of the guys attempted and ultimately failed to twerk around him. Luca smiled to himself, forgetting that Troy had asked him a question just a moment before. 

Troy’s eyes lingered for a second on Luca’s profile before he followed his gaze to the dance floor. He smirked and took another sip of his beer. They fell into a comfortable silence as Luca started to feel the effects of the night. His head was foggy from all of the shots they’d taken and the loud music was too much for his ears. 

“I think I might get some fresh air.” Luca announced suddenly. 

“You want me to come with you?” Troy offered.

“No, no. You stay. I’ll be right back.” 

He shuffled out of the booth and headed towards the general vicinity of the door. His vision was slightly blurred as he stumbled through the crowd. He was jostled between warm bodies but he tried his best to focus on the red exit sign straight ahead, taking careful steps towards it. One after the other. When he finally got to it, he pushed on the door with a bit too much force and stumbled into an alleyway. 

There were a few huddles of people out there and it faintly smelled of weed. Luca kept to himself as he leaned back against the nearest wall, just opposite the door, and let the cold air envelope him. He tilted his head upwards as he stared at the night sky and took steadying breaths. The cold air was harsh but he liked the way it burned his throat; it distracted him from the anxiety that was starting to subside in his gut. He took his phone out to check the time, 1:48am. He really needed to get back to the hotel soon, they had an early flight the next day.

With one final breath he pushed off the wall towards the door he’d just escaped out of. Before he could grab it, it swung open and he stumbled backward. A few men were in his path and Luca’s heart fell as he saw a familiar face staring back at him; Comeau. Luca gulped.

///

Shane sighed back into the bed as Ilya trailed soft kisses up his torso. He stopped only when he was hovering directly over his boyfriend, a breathless smile on his face. He studied Shane’s freckles as he came back down from the high of his orgasm.

“That satisfy you, Mr Winner?” Ilya joked. He nuzzled his face into the crook of Shane’s neck and placed soft kisses there as he waited for a response.

“Yes,” Shane sighed almost dreamily, “I think that will have to do after your terrible performance tonight.”

“Hey! I got a goal and an assist.” Ilya protested.

Shane laughed, “Yeah, but the game wouldn’t have even been close without your rookie.” 

Ilya groaned and rolled over to lay beside him on the soft bed. He tried to memorize the smell of Shane’s bedsheets as he caught his breath. They would be apart for a few more weeks until the next time their schedules lined up. Ilya tried not to think about that too much as he turned over to look at Shane. 

“Do not talk about my rookie while I am naked in your bed.” He mumbled.

Shane chuckled, “C’mon, let's shower.” 

He pushed Ilya’s curls away from his face and then got up from the bed. Ilya watched him retreat into the bathroom and he heard the shower turn on. His phone started ringing from the bedside table, which he quickly silenced, and joined his boyfriend under the warm water. Ilya let Shane massage away the knots in his shoulders as he stood under the shower head. He tried to initiate round 2 with Shane as he washed his own hair which only resulted in lots of laughter, soap getting in Shane's eyes, and sloppy kisses that went nowhere. He loved every moment of it.

When they finally got out of the shower, his phone was still buzzing incessantly on the bedside table. Ilya tucked his towel a little tighter around his waist and wiped a tired hand over his face before he flipped it over. He had 8 missed calls from Bood and 5 from Troy. There were a couple texts from Troy, apologizing first, and then asking him to call them when he had a chance. His heart sank and he tapped on Troy’s icon, raising the phone to his ear.

“Oh thank god, Roz.” Troy breathed into the phone. There was some rustling in the background.

“What’s wrong?” Ilya asked, trying and failing to curb the panic in his tone. Shane looked at him from across the room, eyebrows knitted together as he pulled on a pair of boxers. 

“It’s Haasy. He had a bit of an incident at the club.” Troy tried to explain. His voice was muffled and it was hard to hear him.

“What happened?” Ilya put the phone on speaker and tossed it onto the bed. He started dressing in the suit he had worn to the game and then directly to Shane’s apartment. The stiffness of his dress pants was an unwelcome feeling after the relaxing shower they’d just had.

“He, uh. He got into a bit of a situation, nothing big. We got him out of there but he’s really shaken up.” Troy huffed on the other end of the phone and Ilya could’ve sworn he heard Bood repeating the same mantras over and over again in the background. Something about deep breaths and that Ilya was on the phone.

“Give him the phone.” Ilya said as he threw on his dress shirt quickly. He picked up his phone again and sat on the edge of the bed. Shane, who had yet to take his eyes off of him, came to sit at his side. He rubbed calming circles on his back and rested his chin on Ilya’s shoulder. 

“Haasy, it’s Roz. He wants to talk to you.” Troy said in a calm voice. There was some more shuffling on the other end of the phone.

“Ilya?” Came the tiniest voice ever. Ilya’s heart crumpled in his chest.

“Are you ok? Did someone hurt you?” It came out more aggressive than he’d wanted it to. He cursed to himself in Russian under his breath and hoped that Luca hadn’t heard it. 

“I–um, yeah…no…I don’t know.” He said quietly.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Ilya reasoned. There was silence on the other end of the phone and Ilya tried to picture the three men looking at one another.

“No.” Luca’s voice cracked as he said it. Ilya bent forward, placing his head in his hands, trying to muster up some patience as his brain took him down all sorts of paths. Shane’s hand never stopped circling his back.

“Can you maybe ask the guys to give you some space?” Ilya offered. 

“We’ll just be outside.” He heard Bood’s calm voice and suspected that maybe he had been on speaker phone.

After a moment Ilya continued, much calmer now, “What happened, Luca?”

Luca breathed shakily over the phone, “I ran into some guys at the club.”

“Some guys?” Ilya asked.

“Some of the, uh…Voyageurs guys.” His voice was so quiet but it came through clear enough. Shane’s hand stopped rubbing Ilya’s back and he turned to him with wide eyes. Ilya’s jaw tensed as he stared at the phone. 

“What happened? Did they hurt you?” His voice was surprisingly calm as anger bubbled in his chest.

“He, uh–-well, no. Not really.” His voice broke off into what sounded like a muffled cry  and Ilya immediately felt guilty that he wasn’t there with him. 

“Where are you, Luca?” He decidedly stood up. He caught Shane’s hand with his own and gave it a firm squeeze before he walked out of the bedroom.

Luca sobered up quickly, “No, no. I–-I’m ok. I have Bood and Barrett, and you are with your…I don’t want to–”

“Are you still at the club? The hotel? Tell me.” Ilya started to gather his belongings that had been thrown around the apartment the second he got there. 

Luca seemed to give in, “I’m at the hotel. Room 1010.”

“Okay, I will be there soon.” He hung up and turned to see Shane watching him from his doorway. He had a distant look on his face as he stood there, face flushed, and not entirely certain what his next move was. 

“I’m sorry, I have to go handle this.” Ilya walked back over to him and placed his hands on his shoulders. His skin was abnormally warm. 

“I need you to tell me what happened as soon as you can.” Shane’s voice was firm when he finally met Ilya’s eyes, “I swear to god, Ilya, if they–”

“I know.” Ilya cut him off, not wanting his mind to go anywhere before he could finally see Luca and talk to him, “I will call you right away.”

He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Shane’s lips. Shane didn’t quite kiss him back as he was still lost in his own thoughts. Ilya wanted more, knowing they wouldn’t see each other for a few weeks, but he couldn’t linger. He ordered an Uber and quickly left the apartment, thinking about all of the possibilities that waited for him back at the hotel.

Chapter End Notes

Trying to get over Canada's loss today by uploading this chapter ... I'm fine, really. No, seriously...

Anyways, hope you enjoy :)

Chapter 11: Not Alone

Chapter Notes

TW: homophobia + violence. Tags have also been updated!

Montreal, November 2020

When Ilya finally reached the 10th floor, he all but jogged down the hallway. Troy was standing outside of the room, pacing back and forth, until he saw Ilya. Troy's shoulders deflated as he approached. 

“I’m sorry your night was cut short.” Troy smiled sympathetically just as Ilya reached him. 

Troy was the only player on the team who somewhat knew about Ilya’s double life; that he was bisexual and seeing someone who definitely wasn’t the Montreal Girl that the rest of his team had suspected. He squeezed the shorter man’s shoulder appreciatively as he came to stand in front of the door. 

“What happened?” Ilya asked. 

Before Troy could answer, Ilya’s eyes flickered down to his hand which he was trying his best to tuck under his other arm. His knuckles were freshly bruised. Ilya’s jaw clenched at the sight. Troy followed his gaze down to his own hand and he tucked it away fully.

Troy sighed, “He went out to get some fresh air and Comeau found him. He said some horrible shit.”

Ilya’s heart rang in his ears at the thought of it. He tried his best to keep his tone level as he looked at Troy.

“And you took care of it?” He asked carefully. Troy nodded.

“Good.”

He pushed into the hotel room to find Luca tucked into bed. Bood and Young sat diligently watching him from the other. They all turned towards him when they heard the door open. His eyes found Luca who, after a brief moment, couldn’t meet Ilya’s gaze. He was laying on his side with the fluffy comforter pulled up under his chin and his hoodie pulled over his head protectively. His large framed glasses were squished uncomfortably up his nose and his face was flushed. Ilya’s shoulders fell as he walked into the room.

“Thanks guys.” He addressed Bood and Young, who gave him tight smiles as they left the room. Ilya wasn’t quite sure where Young was going as he was supposed to share this room with Luca, but he figured that Bood would let him crash with him for the night.

When they were alone in the room, Ilya removed his suit jacket and draped it over the desk chair. He turned and sat on the edge of Young’s bed, unsure how comfortable Luca would be with him invading his space at the moment. 

“I’m sorry.” Luca’s hoarse voice broke the silence before Ilya could say anything.

“For what?” Ilya cocked his head to get a better look at the kid. He still couldn’t meet his gaze.

“For ruining your night.” He mumbled.

Ilya sighed as he removed his dress shoes in an attempt to get more comfortable. He pushed himself up onto Young's bed until his back was resting against the headboard, his legs outstretched in front of him. He hoped that redirecting his body away from the boy would make him feel more comfortable with his presence.

“You did not ruin my night.” He reassured, but he knew that Luca wouldn't believe him, “My night was ruined when we lost the game.”

Luca didn’t laugh but he did crack a small smile as Ilya glanced sideways at him. He counted that as a win.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked after a moment of silence. It wasn’t the question he wanted to ask; he didn’t want to ask at all. He wanted to pry the information out of Luca, find a way to get Comeau's address, and then beat the ever loving shit out of him. Even if Troy already had, it simply wasn’t enough. 

Luca looked like he wanted to cry again and he shook his head meekly. Ilya wasn’t going to force him if he wasn’t comfortable, even if he desperately wanted to know what Comeau said, so instead he took a deep breath and thought back to his conversation with Galina. Just be there for him, that is good enough, her voice echoed in his head. So he leaned over and grabbed the team-issued iPad that sat on the bedside table between them.

“How I Met Your Mother?” He offered, his eyebrows raised, as he slid the iPad open. 

Luca didn’t argue so Ilya punched in his Netflix password and pulled it up. With Luca’s approval, he walked over to his bed and sat down beside him, still on top of the covers in case getting under them was too much. Luca wiggled himself over to give Ilya more room as he placed the iPad in his lap and pressed play on the episode they had left off at. They sat in comfortable silence like that, with Luca’s forehead tucked against Ilya’s arm, for as long as Luca needed. The pressure was grounding for Ilya just as much as it must’ve been for Luca. Ilya had to keep reminding himself that Luca was safe as he tried to focus on the episode. His thoughts trailed elsewhere; to a dark, cold street where Luca was face-to-face with Comeau. God knows what he had said to the rookie--to his rookie--that left him feelings like this. He made a mental note to ask Troy for more details later on.

Once he heard Luca’s calm breathing, the same shallow breaths he’d hear when Luca napped on the couch before home games, Ilya carefully removed himself from the bed. He paused their episode and placed the iPad gently on the bedside table. When he leaned over to click the lamp off, Luca shifted in the bed.

“Do the guys think I’m gay?” Luca’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Ilya froze. He turned slowly until he found Luca’s half-lidded eyes watching him. He looked fragile in the dimly lit room, like it took everything in him to get that question out. Ilya straightened and took a deep breath.

“I don’t know,” He said honestly, “But I do know that they love you. No matter what.” 

Ilya’s words seemed to spark something behind Luca’s tired eyes. Ilya hadn’t come out to his teammates yet but having known them for a couple years, he was confident that when he did, it wouldn’t be a big deal. He was reminded of that every time the team lovingly joked around with Harris or when Troy tried and ultimately failed to hide his longing stares. Ilya wasn’t quite sure how the pair weren’t dating yet but it wasn’t his business and he knew that it would happen in due time.

“Are you?” Ilya asked after a moment of silence. Gay, that is, he thought to himself. He hoped it wasn’t too much as he watched Luca blink slowly.

“I don’t know.” 

Luca’s voice was so small, so scared. Ilya's jaw set as he thought about Comeau and whatever homophobic shit he'd said to make Luca feel so insecure. It was likely something Ilya had heard himself many times over the years. Hockey was a deeply homophobic sport, he knew that of course, and he had found ways to handle it. To disregard it. But Luca? Now that was a different story. He swallowed any anger that loomed in his chest as he leaned over and placed a comforting hand on Luca’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to know right now.” Ilya reassured the boy. Luca managed a small smile, which came across as more of a grimace than anything else, “Now sleep. I will meet you for breakfast tomorrow.”

Ilya clicked off the lamp and found his way back to his own room. He quickly sent Bood and Troy a text to reassure them that everything was alright, and then another one to Shane, apologizing for the fate of their evening. Shane didn’t hesitate to respond with a bunch of questions, and even a phone call, wanting to know what happened. Ilya told him he hadn’t gotten any answers yet but did warn him that Comeau would likely have a black eye at their next practice. Shane let it go, after he insisted that he would talk to his coaching staff the next day about the situation. Ilya decided not to comment any further as he climbed into bed and ran a tired hand over his face. He would need another session with Galina soon, he decided, as he turned the bedside lamp off and tried to sleep.

///

Luca was embarrassed the next morning when he met his teammates for breakfast. He had no reason to be. Everyone acted normally, as if nothing had happened the night before, and Luca silently appreciated it. Eric had saved him a seat and he beamed up at Luca when he came to join them. Bood complimented his breakaway the day before and jokingly asked him for pointers at their next practice. Even Coach had ruffled his hair as he walked by with his own plate of food. 

He tried to convince himself that they were doing too much, that they were actually pitying him and doing a bad job at covering it up with pleasantries, but he couldn’t deny the warmth that he felt in his chest at their simple gestures. He tried to engage in the lively debate Hayes and Eric were having about some random Marvel movie when Ilya finally walked into the room.

“There he is! Get enough sleep last night?” Dykstra asked loudly. There were some dog whistles and whooping from around the room as Ilya rolled his eyes.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Ilya called over his shoulder. He filled his plate with food and came to sit in the empty seat across from Luca. 

“Nothing, Roz? You’re killing me!” Chouinard added. 

“A gentleman never tells.” Ilya simply cooed as he tucked into his eggs. He looked up at Luca and winked. Luca’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. All of the guys had been at the club last night, they knew what had happened; well, at least that Troy, Bood, Eric, and Harris abruptly left the club with him, mid-panic attack. Surely they’d heard that Ilya had come back to the hotel early and spent most of the evening with him. His thoughts were silenced by someone nudging his knee under the table. He looked sideways at Troy who sent him a soft smile.

“Walk with me?” He offered. 

Luca felt Ilya's eyes on him from across the table. He nodded hesitantly and they cleared their plates before heading out into the cool morning air. They walked about half a block in uncomfortable silence. Luca pulled his sweater a little tighter around himself, silently wishing that he’d stopped to grab his jacket before agreeing to this.

“So the guys don’t know what happened last night.” Troy started casually. He stared straight ahead as he spoke.

Luca nodded to himself. He figured as much.

“Well they know, but they don’t know.” Troy emphasized the last word and glanced sideways at Luca. He wasn’t quite sure what that meant; maybe Troy had told Bood and Harris the details, maybe Bood filled Eric in when they left his hotel room, maybe Harris had debriefed Coach Wiebe before breakfast. But the rest of the guys? They had no clue. They probably made up some excuse as to why they had to leave early that night; that the rookies drank too much and they wanted them to get a good night's sleep before their flight. It sounded realistic enough, even if it was a little dramatic.

He figured it wasn't as dramatic as what had actually happened. Luca, in his fit of anxiety, distinctly remembered Troy punching Comeau straight across the face. He sort of came out of nowhere after Comeau started talking to Luca, his own teammates leaving them to smoke a cigarette elsewhere in the alleyway. He must’ve come to find him, to make sure everything was alright, when he heard what Comeau had to say.

It was pleasant at first. You’re fast, kid, and you have a good perspective on the game. He was complimentary, welcoming him to the league as vets did, or so Luca thought. In hindsight, there was an air of sarcasm to his words, which Luca should’ve picked up on before it quickly diverted into something much worse, much more sinister. 

“Just gotta keep your head on straight. Don’t let any of those faggots get to you.” His breath curled from his lips in the cold night air. Luca stiffened beside him. He thought it was subtle enough until Comeau turned to look at him carefully, “Unless they already have.”

Luca stammered, his mouth falling open and then quickly shut, as he tried to find the right words to appease the man. He had no clue what Comeau was talking about; surely he didn’t know about Shane or Ilya. Out of all the people that they had told, Comeau was not one of them, and based on Luca’s impressions of him during the game, he didn’t seem like the type of guy Shane would be close with anyways.

“Fucking disgrace, what this game has come to.” Comeau said it more to himself than anyone else as he looked down the alleyway at his teammates. Luca didn’t recognize them necessarily, at least not enough to know them by name; one of them was a tall guy with a thick Quebecois accent that Luca could hear echoing down the alley way towards them. He stole glances their way every now and Luca almost wished he would walk back over to join their conversation. He wondered if it would curb Comeau’s thoughts at all. 

Comeau took a step closer to Luca then. He towered over him as he leaned in to speak quieter. Luca gulped.

“You seem like the type, though.” The smell of vodka nipped at Luca’s nose in a way he didn’t like, “The type who would bend over for anyone who asked. Is that what’s going on with Rozanov?”

Luca shook his head to focus on Troy again as they rounded a corner. Troy cautiously watched the rookie from his periphery as Luca gripped his sweater a little together around his body. He tucked his hands under his armpits for warmth.

“Thank you.” Luca managed to say, thinking back to the way that Troy had stepped in and defended him. He wasn’t sure how long Troy was standing there–-what exactly he had heard Comeau say–-but it probably wasn’t very long. It didn’t matter though, Troy acted fast. 

It wasn’t pretty. There was blood, lots of it, and he managed to land a few punches before the Voyageurs guys ran over to pull Troy off of Comeau. The tall Quebecois guy told them to leave, panic evident in his voice, as they held Comeau back. He yelled more slurs and profanity after them but Troy ushered Luca back into the club, quickly wrangled some of the guys, and left for the hotel. 

Luca couldn’t remember much after that. Just the way his heart was pounding in his chest and that his lungs couldn’t take a full breath. Eric held him, equally panicked and confused at the state Luca was in, but trying his best to be supportive. He had propped Luca on the curb and pulled him protectively into his chest as they waited for an Uber to come get them. He could distantly hear Bood and Harris panicking behind them as they asked Troy a bunch of questions; why Luca was so upset, why Troy’s hand had blood on it, and what they fuck they were going to tell Ilya when he inevitably found out. He wasn’t quite sure what Troy said back, his focus was elsewhere, like the sensation of Eric pushing his hair back from his forehead and the way his sit bones dug uncomfortably into the curb. He wished Ilya was there with them and he wondered how many times he'd voiced that by the time they got back to the hotel. His memory was failing him.

“No need to thank me.” Troy’s words brought him back to the present moment. Luca didn’t agree but he didn’t argue. He tried his best to push the memories of the previous night out of his mind but he couldn’t shake Comeau’s words. 

Luca hadn’t really explored his sexuality growing up--he wasn’t sure what there was to explore. There was one time when he tried to talk to his sister, Sophia, about it. That was a couple years ago when he was in his senior year of high school. She was patient as he tried to unpack everything that was going on in his brain; how he thought there might be something wrong with him because he had never had a crush before. Well, he’d never had a crush on a girl before, but he thought that was because he never really talked to them outside of the classroom. Whenever his friends would tease him growing up--ask him who he had a crush on--he would just lie and choose one of the prettier girls he heard his friends talking about from their school. He was grateful when they didn't have any follow-up questions. Boys, on the other hand, confused him. He knew an attractive guy when he saw one but it also scared him; especially since the guys he found the most attractive were often some of his close friends. That felt wrong to Luca, in a way.

He had one friend, Sebastian, who he had grown quite close with over their time at school. They played on the same hockey team growing up and Luca liked the way he felt when he was around him. They would brush knees under the desk in the library and would always pair up at practices. They spent most of their time outside of the rink together, too, whether that be studying or playing video games. Sebastian loved it when Luca would draw for him, so sometimes he would pretend to be a model and Luca would begrudgingly go along with it. He secretly loved it. It was all friendly, though. Well, there was that one time that they cuddled at a sleepover, but it only happened once, and they never spoke of it afterwards. Luca sometimes wondered what it would be like to kiss him. He never tried it.

The closer they got, the stronger Luca’s affinity was for Sebastian, and Sophia wondered if Luca might be demisexual. He googled the term once but quickly shut his laptop when things started to feel a bit too real. He wasn’t demisexual. They were just friends, him and Sebastian. He was just getting his feelings confused.

They lost contact when Luca moved to Zurich for hockey. Luca tried his best to keep in touch but Sebastian moved to England for university and he slowly but surely stopped answering Luca’s texts. He pushed his feelings aside and made new friends, none as close as Sebastian though; he wouldn’t let himself go there again. It hit Luca harder than he expected it to and his chest still hurt sometimes when he thought about it. He tried his best not to thinking about it. Having a rigorous hockey schedule helped with that. Things changed, people grew apart, Luca would remind himself. It was normal. Fine, really.

Whatever was going on with Luca’s sexuality, he knew one thing for certain; he wasn’t about to start exploring it while he played in the MLH. Definitely not in his rookie year. It wasn’t necessary, he reminded himself, as they rounded another block in Montreal. Troy pivoted so that he could look directly at Luca as they waited for the traffic lights to change.

“Listen, uh, we don’t have to talk about it but I just want you to know that if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.” He said, and then quickly added, “I know you have Ilya though. He’s a good person to talk to about that sort of stuff.”

Luca’s eyebrows furrowed. He wasn’t quite sure if he was understanding what Troy was insinuating. Troy shuffled his weight a bit as they stood on the corner of the street.

“He is.” Luca offered hesitantly. 

“He’s helped me with that sort of stuff too.” Troy admitted.

Luca’s eyes widened. Troy squirmed under his gaze as he turned to look down the street at nothing in particular. The muscles in his jaw tightened.

“He has?” Luca asked incredulously. He had to be sure before he let the lightness in his chest spread any further.

Troy just nodded and turned to meet Luca’s gaze again, eyes narrowed. He wasn’t anxious, necessarily, but there was a vulnerability there that Luca could feel. Troy had lobbed this big secret into the air and Luca got to decide what he wanted to do with it. He couldn’t stop the big smile that rose to his face. The crosswalk changed so they started walking again, this time Luca had a bit more energy, as he felt the tension of their conversation dissipate. 

“The guys are pretty oblivious, eh?” Luca said. Troy laughed.

“Since when did you become a Canadian?” He nudged Luca’s shoulder with his own. 

Luca ignored him.

“I was beginning to wonder what was going on between you and Harris.” He smiled cheekily. 

He thought back to the many times Troy was first in the locker room on game days and last in the locker room on practice days. The way that Ilya would make teasing comments about it that no one else seemed to pick up on. How you couldn’t find Harris in one place without Troy far behind, especially on filming days.

Troy groaned, “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes, very. Although,” Luca paused to think about their naive teammates, “Well, maybe not to the other guys, but hopefully to Harris.”

“We’ll see.” Troy’s cheeks tinted pink.

Luca felt lighter as he climbed onto the bus a short while later. Ilya immediately caught his gaze and tilted his head at him, as if checking in. Luca tilted his back with a small smile before he fell back into the seat beside Eric. Everything was going to be alright.

///

It had been over a week since the incident in Montreal and Luca was slowly starting to feel better about it. None of the guys had mentioned it or made any indication that they knew anything. He could tell that Ilya wanted to talk about it, to know the specifics of what happened and how he could help, but he never pried. Instead, he was just there.

His teammates tried to drag him to more bars and clubs after other games on the roadtrip. He always declined. Sometimes he could get away with it by blaming his age; he wasn’t legal in America, anyways. Sometimes his teammates would shrug it off and say that they could pull some strings to get him in, the same way they would for Eric. On those days, Ilya would read Luca’s face from across the room and make up an excuse about a prior commitment they had for the evening. 

Those nights would often result in them watching Netflix and eating candy in Ilya’s hotel room. Sometimes they facetimed Shane who, based on his worrisome expressions, also wanted to know what happened in Montreal. He would only let his worry subside when he got Luca speaking in French, oftentimes making fun of Ilya and giggling together like children. Ilya would always play into it just to see Luca’s smiling face.

When Luca walked into Madison Square Garden that night, he suspected it would take a bit more convincing for his teammates to let him spend the evening in the hotel. He pushed the thought aside as he stretched his hips on the ice. Ilya skated over and stopped abruptly in front of him, spraying snow across his gloves. He pouted up at his captain.

“I have plans after the game tonight and you are coming with me.” He announced with a wide smile. 

“What kind of plans?” Luca asked hesitantly, unsure if he had the energy for an after-game outing with the team.

“You will see.”

And with that, he left Luca to his own anxious thoughts about the evening ahead. 

Later that evening, after a tough 2-1 loss to the undefeated Admirals, Luca found himself sitting in the back of a taxi with Ilya. His thumbs drummed nervously against the side of the door. After a slow drive through Saturday night traffic, one that had Luca dozing off numerous times, they came to a stop outside of a small pub with a glowing red sign. The Kingfisher.

Ilya thanked the driver and handed him a wad of cash before he ushered Luca into the cold air of New York City. He walked up to the door and turned to face Luca, one hand resting on the handle. 

“If you feel uncomfortable at any point, we go back to the hotel. Okay?” He explained kindly. Luca nodded sheepishly and walked through the door as Ilya held it open for him.

The inside of the bar was warm. It was a calmer atmosphere than some of the places his teammates had dragged him to, and there were groups of eclectic-looking people huddled around the bar. He noticed some people with brightly coloured hair or septum piercings, girls holding hands in a corner, and guys whispering closely to one another. He averted his eyes as he followed Ilya to the actual bar, where a familiar face was waiting for them.

“Ah, you made it! I wondered if the loss would hit you hard, Rozanov.” A cheeky Scott Hunter welcomed them. He rested his hands against the bar, a damp tea towel slung over one shoulder.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Hunter.” Ilya quipped back, “This is my rookie, Luca Haas.” 

Luca smiled sheepishly at Scott Hunter, another person he’d looked up to as a kid. He held out his handle politely to the tall man, pushing his nerves aside.

“Nice to meet you.” He was grateful when Scott hadn’t left his hand hanging, even if he’d stared at it for a beat too long.

“Nice to meet you, rook. Nice goal tonight.” He smiled genuinely at him before his eyes danced over to Ilya, “Someone on your team has to score.”

Ilya rolled his eyes as Luca chuckled.

“I got the assist, do not forget.” Ilya defended, although there was no real anger behind it, “Anyways, I need a drink. Luca, you want a beer?”

Luca looked between Scott and Ilya, suddenly remembering that he wasn’t of legal drinking age in America. He stammered for a second before Scott cut him off.

“One beer, rook. It’s okay.” He chuckled. Luca nodded and gladly accepted the bottle that was placed in front of him.

Another friendly looking man suddenly appeared at Scott’s side, one hand placed on his lower back. Scott was not startled by this and turned to place a secure arm over his shoulders, a fond smile on his face. Luca thought he recognized the man but he couldn’t quite place him.

“Roz, you remember Kip?” Scott gestured to the shorter man tucked into his side.

“Yes! Kip, how are you? Still putting up with this old man?” Ilya flashed him a wide grin. 

Luca looked between the two men, his eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. This was the guy that Scott Hunter had kissed on national television only a few years before. Ilya kicked him subtly under the ledge of the bar and Luca snapped his mouth shut, a warmth rising to his cheeks that he hoped no one could see in the ambient lighting of the bar.

Kip laughed, “I’m doing well, Ilya. We’re happy you’re here. Who’s this?” He turned to Luca who suddenly had a much wider smile on his face.

“This is Luca, he is my rookie.” Ilya placed a protective hand on his shoulder.

“Welcome, Luca.” Kip’s eyes fell to the beer in his hands and then he glared up at Scott, “A beer? Seriously?”

“What? He’s basically 21! Right, kid?” 

Luca, who had yet to turn 20, just stared at them blankly.

“Okay, we are going to sit. Come say hi later?” Ilya announced with a laugh.

He directed Luca to a small booth in the far corner of the room, his hand never leaving his shoulder. When Luca fell into the booth he let go of a shaky breath. Ilya slid into the seat across from him and flashed him a toothy smile.

“So?” He said it like it was a full sentence. Luca raised his eyebrows in confusion.

“Well, what do you think?” He gestured around the bar like it was obvious what he was asking.

“It’s…nice.” Luca settled on the word. 

Ilya groaned, “This is not a post-game interview, Luca. Tell me. What do you think?” 

He waited patiently for Luca’s diagnosis but it took him a minute to piece his thoughts together. His brain was swirling and he didn’t think it was because of the singular sip he had taken from his beer. He thought back to the way Kip had placed a firm hand on Scott’s lower back and smiled down at his hands.

“I like it here. It feels safe.”

Ilya smiled at that, “Good. I was hoping you would say that.”

Not long afterward, Luca found himself in a very entertaining conversation with Ilya and Scott. They were razzing one another about the previous year’s All Star game, which Ilya had won and Scott had lost. Luca remembered watching it at an ungodly hour with his sister.

“You had such an unfair advantage with Hollander on your team.” Scott retorted. This only made Ilya smile wider. Luca thought back to the game, one of the few times Ilya and Shane had been allowed to play on the same line. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it was magic. Even Luca knew that.

“Yes, well we are the best players in the league.” Ilya sighed fondly as he took another swig of his beer, “I am the best of course, but he is a close second.”

Luca snorted at that. Ilya and Scott both turned to him, Scott with a lazy grin on his face. 

Luca quickly cleared his throat, “Sorry.”

“No, rook. Speak up.” Scott nudged him and a shy smile spread across Luca’s face.

“Are you saying I am not the best in the league?” Ilya dramatically asked.

Luca grinned, “I’m saying that between you and Hollander, Hollander has you beat.”

Scott erupted into a bellowing laugh. Luca giggled as Ilya threw a crumpled up napkin at his head. He brought his hands up to protect himself as he continued to laugh.

“Even your own rook sees it, Roz!” Scott continued to laugh. Ilya couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto his face.

“I wish he was here to see this.” Scott sighed once he'd come down from his laughter. Luca shot him a sideways glance.

“Maybe one day.” Ilya added. There was a glimmer of something behind Ilya’s eyes that Luca couldn’t quite name. Scott nudged Ilya’s knuckles as he shuffled out of the booth.

“Okay, I gotta get back to work before Kip makes me sleep on the couch. Let me know if you need a refill.” He pointed to each of their beers. They’d been empty for a while but neither of them had made any effort to get a new one.

“Don’t worry, Hunter, we will be leaving soon.” Ilya smiled after him. Scott nodded once and returned to the bar to pour more drinks for waiting customers. Luca smiled over at them, the way that he and Kip moved seamlessly around one another. It was almost like a dance.

“They are cute.” Ilya said suddenly.

Luca turned to find Ilya watching Scott and Kip as well. Luca nodded, more to himself than anyone else.

“So, are they?” He let the question hang in the air.

“Da.” Ilya turned back to Luca, “Married, actually.”

Luca nodded again and his gaze lowered to the crumpled napkin that he was playing with. He could feel Ilya’s eyes burning a hole into his head from across the booth. He suddenly felt quite shy and couldn’t meet his gaze.

“You want to go back to hotel?” Ilya asked suddenly. 

Luca scrunched up his nose as he chuckled at the suggestion. 

Ilya’s eyes widened in horror as he realized what he had said and then he laughed, “Not like that, you pervert.”

Luca held his hands up in mock defense, “I didn’t say anything.”

“Come on, before I make you walk home.” 

They laughed as they left the bar, calling out a thank you and goodbye to Scott and Kip as they did.

///

“I took Luca to The Kingfisher tonight.” Ilya sighed after a moment. He pushed himself up higher on the headboard and waited for Shane’s reaction with baited breath. 

Shane’s eyebrows shot up over his glasses, “You did?”

Ilya nodded.

“And how did it go?” He asked tentatively.

“Good. I think he was a bit shocked when he realized Scott was gay. And that everyone around him was too.” Ilya laughed and so did Shane.

It didn’t take much for him to realize that Luca might be gay; if not for the way he stared at him throughout training camp than by the absolute failure to get that girl’s number back at the pub in Ottawa. His suspicions had only been confirmed by their conversation in Montreal, sort of. He wasn’t going to push Luca, that wasn’t his job. His job was to take care of him, to make sure he was safe and comfortable, to be there for him. So he was patient with Luca and waited for the day that he inevitably came to him with revelations about his sexuality. Sometimes, when Ilya watched the way that Luca and Eric interacted at practice, he figured that would be soon enough. 

“Has he said anything more about Montreal?” Shane’s tone was uneasy as he asked the question. Ilya sighed. This was something that had been weighing on Shane since it happened; they hadn’t had a real chance to talk about it, what with Luca spending many evenings in his hotel room since they left for their road trip.

“No.” His voice came out a bit harsher than he meant it to. Really, he was just frustrated. Not at Luca, obviously, but at the situation as a whole and how he had no control over it.

Shane sighed, “I’ve got nothing more on my end either. Coach Theriault says he can’t punish Comeau for something he doesn’t know anything about–-he says whatever happens outside of the rink is none of his business, anyways.”

Ilya could practically feel the anger emanating from Shane through the screen. He could also sense the lingering exhaustion in his tone; something that Shane was letting slip a little bit more when it came to the Montreal Voyageurs lately. Their locker room wasn’t much like the Centaur’s locker room and it made Ilya increasingly nervous. He would never tell Shane but he was sometimes worried for his boyfriend’s safety in Montreal. He wondered what might happen when they decided to come out. The thought made him feel sick.

“It’s fine. We will deal with it when we play you next.” Ilya decided.

“Ilya.” Shane warned.

“Shane.” He replied with the same tone. Shane pressed his lips together, knowing that he couldn’t argue or change Ilya’s mind, even if he wanted to. Ilya knew he didn’t want to though.

“It’s getting late. I should go to bed.” A yawn escaped him as he stared at his boyfriend through the screen. He was in a hotel room in Dallas, currently in the middle of his own road trip, which made Ilya feel increasingly sad. He wished he could transport to Shane’s bed and wrap his arms around him.

“Okay,” Shane hummed and ran a tired hand through his own hair, “Goodnight, I love you.”

“Ya tebya lyublyu.” Ilya smiled faintly. Then they hung up.

Chapter End Notes

When I tell you guys that your comments make me so happy, that would be an understatement. All of the kind comments, general engagement with this story, and just being so curious has brought me so much joy, you don't even know. So thank you <3

Chapter 12: Part of Your World

Chapter Notes

Boston, November 2020

Since leaving the Boston Bears, Ilya felt mixed emotions about being back in the city that helped shape him–-as both a player and a person. He was greeted with far less boos now than he was a couple years ago, when he first joined the Centaurs, and he could’ve sworn he saw some Rozanov jerseys dotted around the stands during warm-ups. What made it more special this time was getting to introduce Cliff Marlow and Luca to one another. 

“So if Ilya was my rookie then does that make you my Grand Rookie?” Ilya overheard Cliff ask Luca during one of the commercial breaks.

“What?” Luca asked, dumbfounded.

Ilya chuckled to himself and circled back around to them.

“Cliff, you might be getting too old if you’re on the same ice as your Grand Rookie.” Ilya teased.

“Shut up, Roz.” Cliff spat on the ice.

Ilya grinned, “We still on for tonight?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Cliff laughed, “What would your Montreal Girl think?” 

Luca smiled down at his feet knowingly. Ilya rolled his eyes as he returned to the face-off circle again.

“You wish, Cliff.” Ilya laughed as he bent over and won the face-off.

///

Ilya had invited Luca to dinner after the game with his vet, Cliff, but Luca politely declined. He wanted to give them some time alone, plus Eric had said he was too tired to go out after the game with the guys, which meant that he’d get to spend the night at the hotel with him. Eric was already flipping through the TV channels when Luca walked out of the bathroom. He was dressed in his pyjamas and towel drying his hair.

“Milk and cookies are on their way.” Eric grinned over at Luca.

“Ooh, are they going to be fresh?” Luca gently laid his towel across the desk chair. He noticed that Eric’s was discarded on the ground right beside it and bent over to pick it up, throwing it over the edge of the desk instead.

“I’m not sure but if they aren’t I’ll microwave yours for you.” Eric smiled over at Luca as he climbed into his own bed, “What are we feeling tonight?”

It was a dumb question, they both knew the drill, but Luca entertained it anyways.

“Hmmm, I’m thinking a 10 hour video of paint drying.” He joked. Eric snickered as he pulled up the Disney+ app and quickly typed in their shared login.

“You little shit.” Eric said under his breath. 

There was a knock on the door and seeing as Eric made no effort to get up from the bed, Luca went to answer it. The tray of milk and cookies was waiting for him just outside the door and Luca brought it back in with a smile on his face. He gently placed the tray on the edge of Eric’s bed and held out one of the glasses to him.

“For you, kind sir.” He spoke in a poor excuse of a British accent.

“Why thank you, kind sir.” Eric replied in a much posher accent, “And what do we have here?”

Luca lifted the cloche dramatically to reveal a warm plate of chocolate chip cookies.

“Divine.” Luca said and Eric chuckled.

“Okay, come here. I’m thinking we watch The Little Mermaid tonight.” Eric shuffled up his bed and patted the spot beside him. Luca’s ears tinted pink as he rearranged the tray on the bed and situated himself beside Eric, just far enough away for comfort, but close enough to share the plate of cookies. He sipped on his glass of milk as the opening credits rolled. 

They watched in silence for a bit, munching on their cookies and sipping their milk as the movie played. It had become a sort of post-game ritual for them when they were on the road. Sometimes the guys would make fun of them for it–-say how they really were just kids with adult money–-but they didn’t care. It was a good way to unwind after away games and Luca had slowly come to look forward to it. That being said, they left their Disney movie marathons for the privacy of their own hotel room.

Eric sighed as he looked down at the half-eaten plate of cookies between them.

“I would give that a 7.25.” He sounded a little disappointed as he pulled out his phone. He clicked on the notes app where they had been ranking their milk and cookies experiences on the road and started typing in the name of the hotel.

“Really? Surely that’s an 8.” Luca leaned in a little closer to watch Eric type from over his shoulder.

Boston, November 2020

Four Seasons Hotel

Haasy: 8

Eric: 7.25

Notes: Cookies arrived warm and covered by a fancy food cover :)

“I think you’re too lenient with your rankings.” Eric chuckled as he scrolled back up to their notes from previous hotels, “You never give lower than an 8!”

He leaned the phone towards Luca so that he could see their handful of entries. Luca shrugged.

“It’s hard to mess up chocolate chip cookies.” He defended himself. Eric rolled his eyes and looked over at Luca, their faces a little closer now that Luca had been leaning over his shoulder. His eyes were an impossibly deep shade of brown, warm and inviting, as they bore back into Luca’s own. His face grew warm. 

A smile broke out across Eric’s face as his eyes lingered on Luca’s cheeks a moment more. Then he turned back to the movie and settled a little further into the bed. Luca awkwardly shifted back over to his side of the bed where he tried to get comfortable. It was little use.

“I read somewhere that this song was actually written by a gay man for his unrequited lover.” Eric casually said as Part of Your World was playing on the screen. Luca’s heart skipped a beat. He glanced sideways at Eric who was just lying there, completely unfazed, flipping his phone over and over again in his hand as he watched the movie. 

“You read, huh?” Luca chuckled.

Eric stopped fidgeting with his phone and glared over at him jokingly. Luca forced himself to look at the screen, not even trying to hide the cheeky smile that had risen to his face.

“I’m not just a pretty face, you know? I do have some things going on up here.” He tapped his temple with his pointer finger. 

Luca only smiled wider, eyes still fixated on the TV, as Eric stared at him. He propped his head on an elbow and admired Luca’s profile. Luca couldn’t bring himself to look at Eric, knowing that if he did he would turn a deep shade of red, which would result in a level of teasing that he couldn’t come back from. 

“You sound very believable.” Luca hummed instead. Eric continued to stare at Luca and it took everything in him not to stare back. After a few moments, he let himself catch a glimpse of Eric. His expression was serious, contemplative almost, as he took Luca in. He suddenly felt insecure.

“Do I have something on my face?” Luca wiped at the corners of his mouth. Eric shook his head.

“Then what is it? You were the one who wanted to watch this movie!” Luca gestured back at the screen. He could feel the back of his neck warming up as he looked over at his teammate.

“Nothing.” Eric managed a small smile. He turned back to the TV. 

Luca shifted on the bed, hoping he didn’t come across as awkward as he felt in that moment. Truthfully, his whole body was on fire and his muscles felt stiff. There was no position he could lay in to rid his body of the electricity that was coursing through it. 

Eric’s phone buzzed. Luca glanced at him as he picked it up.

“Is your grandma asking about the game?” Luca asked. 

She would often text a few hours after their east coast games. Eric was raised in Vancouver by his grandparents, who were more like parents to him than anything else. His biological parents weren’t fit for the job, Eric had explained in the few times that their pasts came up in conversation. Luca knew he was being guarded, hesitant even, when he talked about his upbringing but he couldn’t blame Eric; he was doing the exact same thing. 

“Yeah my parents are in business, they weren’t around much.” He had off-handedly said to Eric in their first week of training camp, the first time they talked about their childhoods. He was stuffing a pair of sweatpants into his backpack as Eric held the door to their hotel room open, waiting for him. Eric was hesitant for a moment as he studied Luca from across the room. 

“Well I’m sure that private school kept you busy, what with the state of the art gym and all the AP courses.” It was a joke, one meant to make light of what might’ve been a touchy subject, but Luca still flinched. Then he nervously laughed, tugged on the zipper of his bag, and walked out of the room.

Back in the hotel room in Boston, Eric cleared his throat and sat up a little taller on the bed. Luca couldn’t see his phone screen from where he was laying beside him.

“Uh no, actually,” His cheeks flushed, “It’s Isabelle.”

“Isabelle.” Luca repeated. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to know that name.

“The barista? From that coffee shop downtown?” Eric chuckled as another text came in. It was clear his mind was elsewhere as he typed out a response. The movie had become an afterthought to whatever Isabelle was saying that made Eric smile like that.

“Oh.” Luca said. That Isabelle. The one with a bright smile and heart eyes. The girl who laughed at Eric’s jokes a little too hard. He wasn’t that funny.

“We’ve been texting a lot lately.” Eric sounded hesitant but maybe Luca was imagining it.

He glanced sideways at Luca whose eyes were now transfixed on the movie. He wasn’t really paying attention to it but it was easier than seeing the way that Eric’s eyes lit up with every new text that came in. 

“Oh yeah?” He tried his hardest to make his tone sound indifferent but he couldn’t ignore the pit that had formed in his stomach. His skin tingled with a different kind of electricity now. 

“Yeah.” Eric let the word hang in the air. He glanced sideways at Luca who was sure he had a scowl painted across his face–-one that he couldn’t quite rid himself of–-before Eric's phone buzzed again. 

Luca picked up his own phone. No texts or notifications lingered on his screen but he unlocked it anyways. He opened the Find My Friends app to see where Ilya was–some bar downtown. He looked at the time and sighed. It was late enough.

“I think I might call it a night.” Luca faked a yawn, one that he was sure Eric could read through. Eric watched him climb out of his bed with furrowed eyebrows.

“Okay.” Eric responded. 

Luca couldn’t quite read the emotions laced in that one word but he didn’t have the energy to unpack it so he climbed into his own bed, propped his glasses on the bedside table between them, and rolled away from Eric. The lights were still on and Luca hadn’t even brushed his teeth but he didn’t care. He tried his best to let the exhaustion of their game overtake him but it was no use. He lay frozen in place,  mind racing with possibilities that would never come to fruition, for as long as it took him to fall asleep. 

///

Luca had been acting differently since their game in Boston. He sat alone on the plane ride back, hoodie pulled up over his head and earbuds stuffed in his ears as he stared out the window. His arms were crossed protectively over his body, foot up on the seat in front of him. It didn’t look comfortable. He hadn’t said much to Ilya when they arrived back at the airport and drove home in silence. Ilya thought it might’ve just been exhaustion, he remembered how hard it had been to adjust to the MLH travel in his own rookie year, but there was something else there. He had his suspicions as to what it might've been.

They were driving to the practice facility the next day, an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air between them, as Luca stared out the window. Ilya glanced sideways at him.

“What is it?” Ilya said abruptly. He was tired of beating around the bush when it came to Luca’s emotions and they were close enough now that he felt comfortable confronting him about all of the things that went on in his brain. 

“What?” Luca asked.

“You have been sulking since Boston.” Ilya shrugged, “So what is it?”

Luca rolled his eyes which only made Ilya’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

Oh, so this is how it’s going to go.

“It’s nothing.” Luca grumbled and looked back out the window. Ilya nodded to himself. His grip on the steering wheel tightened. 

“Right, nothing.” He retorted sarcastically.

“Ilya just drop it. Seriously.” Luca pleaded, an edge to his tone. 

So Ilya dropped it. He didn’t want to deal with a sassy teenager at that moment anyways; his own sassiness would not fare well in that scenario, it would likely make things much worse. He’d need to do some research later on how exactly to deal with your teenager when they were in a pissy mood. This was uncharted territory for Ilya, usually Luca was so easy-going or anxious, if anything, not grumbling to himself in French as he glared out the window. Ilya wished Shane was there, he would know what to say to diffuse the situation.

They got to the practice facility extra early that day for Ilya’s captain meetings. When they first started the season, he felt bad about dragging Luca there early with him on practice days. Over the course of the season, once he had developed friendships with other guys on the team, he had taken to driving to practices with Eric. Today was different, though, as he found Luca waiting for him in the car when it was time to leave. It only confirmed his suspicions that something had happened after the game, when Luca had opted to hang out with Eric instead of joining him for dinner with Cliff. 

After his meetings were done that morning, he expected to find Luca tucked away in the lounge, drawing and listening to music as he usually did. He wanted to apologize for their tiff earlier on; a quick Google search had suggested that apologizing, even when you had nothing to apologize for, was a good way to broach pissy teenagers. He was frustrated when he couldn’t find the boy anywhere, until he saw Troy walk out of the rink, chuckling to himself. 

“Hey, have you seen Luca?” Ilya asked. 

“He’s in there.” Troy pointed back at the rink as he ducked into the locker room. Ilya’s brows furrowed.

He found Luca on the ice with Harris, which wouldn’t be entirely weird, if it weren’t for the fact that Harris was wearing Luca’s skates and protective pads over his clothes. He even had a spare hockey helmet on his head–one with a cage, like little kids would wear–and Ilya had no clue where it had come from. Luca was giggling as he dragged him around the ice.

“Yes! See, you’re doing it!” Luca grinned down at Harris’ feet as they shuffled along. Both of the man’s hands were clasped firmly in Luca’s as he walked backwards slowly. Harris was stiff as a board and somehow, even in Luca’s tight grasp, he kept slipping. 

Ilya smiled to himself and pulled out his phone to record.

“Luca, I really. Do not. Like this.” Harris said between clenched teeth. Luca smiled up at him. Even in the skates, Harris was still nowhere near Luca’s height.

“You’re doing great! Come on, let’s see if we can pick up the pace.” Luca said reassuringly. 

Luca walked backwards a bit faster, which Harris didn’t appreciate as he locked his knees impossibly tighter. Troy walked up behind Ilya and rested his forearm against his shoulder, leaning in to watch them through Ilya’s phone. Ilya smiled sideways at him.

“I have no clue how he convinced Harris to do this. He always refuses when I ask him.” He chuckled dryly. Ilya shook his head with a wide smile.

“Might be the puppy dog eyes.” He chuckled. Troy did too.

When Luca caught sight of them out of the corner of his eye he flashed them the biggest smile. A smile that Ilya hadn’t seen since Boston a few days before. 

“He’s a good kid.” Troy said out of nowhere. 

“He is.” Ilya stopped the recording.

Harris threatened Ilya within an inch of his life not to post that video on social media. Ilya promised not to but he did send it to Shane, and then to Luca, for his own memories. Luca, bless him, had posted a screenshot from the video on his Instagram story with a simple caption calling Harris an A+ student. Harris didn’t threaten Luca, though, instead he reposted it to his own story with three face palm emojis.

After that, Luca seemed a little lighter. During practice, he talked casually with Young and LaPointe, he took Dykstra’s chirps on the chin, and performed well in the drills. It gave Ilya whiplash. Whatever Harris did, it worked. He made sure to stay on the ice a little longer than the rest of the guys so that he could pull Harris aside.

“Hey, did you talk to Luca?” He caught Harris’ elbow before he could leave the player’s box.

Harris searched Ilya’s face, lips parted slightly, before he sent him a tight-lipped smile.

“I did.” He responded. 

Ilya just stared at him. He wanted to know more, to ask what exactly he had said to make Luca feel better, but the words wouldn’t come out. He didn’t want to admit that he didn’t know what the hell he was doing when it came to Luca, even if it was just Harris, who was likely the least judgemental person Ilya knew. 

Harris sighed, “He’s okay. Really.” 

Ilya didn’t believe him. He watched the way Luca’s eyes had clouded over since their last game; the same way Shane’s would when he was stuck in his mind and not his body. He watched him isolate himself from the team, even from Eric who looked hurt when he saw the backpack taking up his usual seat beside Luca on the plane, and the concerned glances from Bood and Troy when they saw it too. 

Instead of prying further, he just nodded and skated over to the door.

“Ilya?” Harris called over. 

Ilya took one step onto the rubber mats and turned to look at Harris.

“You’re doing a great job with him.” Harris offered and when Ilya grimaced, he added, “Trust me.”

Ilya smiled weakly. He loved the way that this team banded together–players, families, coaches, and staff, alike–to take care of their own. If Luca couldn’t go to Ilya with this, he was glad that he had someone like Harris to go to, even if it hurt.

“Thanks, Harris.”

///

“You seem off today.” Sophia’s eyebrows knitted together through the iPad screen.

They were sitting with one another on FaceTime, occasionally chatting about their lives but with their attention focussed elsewhere; Sophia on writing out her notes so that they looked a bit prettier and Luca finishing up a drawing for Cassie and Bood. They did this a lot growing up–-Sophia had called it body doubling once–-where they just enjoyed one another's company and worked on their own stuff. Luca was happy that it continued, even from halfway across the world, as it brought him a sense of calm that nothing else could.

“What? I'm not even saying anything.” He protested as he finally met her gaze.

“I know you, Luca.” She sighed. He rolled his eyes but dropped his pencil and pushed everything away from him so that he could rest his head in his hands on the desk.

“I’m just confused.” He groaned, rubbing at his eyes tiredly under his glasses.

“About what?” She was patient as she placed down her own highlighter and gave him her full attention. 

“I just think I’ve got a bit of a Sebastian situation going on.” He mumbled. She leaned a bit closer to the camera, eyebrows raised ever so slightly, as she stared at him.

“Oh?” Her tone was a mix of excitement and hesitation, trying to gauge what was the most appropriate response for Luca’s emotions. He didn’t even know so he didn’t say anything further.

“Can I guess who?” She asked. Luca glared at the camera, but they both knew it wasn’t intimidating, so she continued, “Is it Eric?”

“Is it that obvious?” He deflated. She smiled kindly.

“Again, Luca, I know you.” 

“Fuck. Do you think other people can tell?” He raked a hand through his hair as he thought about all of the fans online who shipped them together. The ones he had just talked to Harris about that same morning. In light of Eric’s budding romance, he’d asked Harris if they could pull back on the posts about them on the Centaurs main socials; at least for a little while. 

“The fans will still make their edits and comments online.” Harris had warned him. Luca knew this, of course, but Harris had reassured him it was all in good fun and had no real weight in the course of public opinion on his sexuality. 

“Let’s just pull back for a bit.” Luca decided. No one could say he hadn’t done what he could to keep it all at bay. It was for his own sanity, really, but disguised as concern for Eric and Isabelle. Eric didn’t seem to mind the fanfare online and often fed into the speculation himself. It confused Luca.

Harris gave him a knowing look. They both knew that there were deeper layers to this request but Harris didn’t push it. He simply agreed to Luca’s wishes and suggested that they do something fun to take his mind off of things. That’s how they ended up on the ice, which Luca suspected wasn’t something Harris would’ve done if it weren’t for the frazzled way he’d shown up to his office that same morning.

Sophia sighed from the other side of the FaceTime call.

“I think that the people closest to you, maybe,” She engaged his anxious question with caution, “But I think the fans online are just doing what they do. They did it to Shane and Ilya too.”

Luca thought back to the small corner of the internet who had formed an unhealthy attachment to Shane and Ilya over the years. Sure, most of the hockey world had flamed the heated rivalry between Shane and Ilya, but there were Hollanov shippers out there too. Luca recalled them being a vocal minority; he wondered how they would feel now, if they knew what Luca did. It didn’t matter, Luca was privy to a secret, one that they’d likely hold onto for years to come.

“Yeah, well look how that turned out.” Luca huffed.

“Pretty well, actually.” Sophia smiled a bit brighter this time which Luca just glared at her for. That’s not what he meant and she knew it, so she changed the subject, “Are you getting any vibes from Eric?” 

The question was simple enough but it confused Luca all the same. He thought he was, even in his naivety around this whole having-a-crush thing, but then Eric had dropped this bomb on him in Boston. A bomb in the shape of a pretty girl who worked at a cafe downtown and was opposite from Luca in all the ways that mattered; short, brunette, a girl. That last criterion hit Luca the hardest. He let go of a shaky breath.

“He has a girlfriend, I think.” He said quietly.

Sophia sat up a bit straighter. He avoided her gaze by gently brushing away some of the eraser crumbs on his desk. 

“I’m sorry, Luca.” She sighed.

He shook his head, “It’s fine. We’re just friends. I’m okay with that.”

He wasn’t, at least that’s what the pit in his stomach told him as soon as the words escaped his lips. Sophia knew he wasn’t either so she simply offered her support and a listening ear if he ever needed it. He was grateful when they returned to their respective activities. Suddenly the drawing of Cassie and Bood wasn’t so interesting anymore and he tucked it away for the night, opting instead for doomscrolling through all of the #Yaas posts he was tagged in that day.

Chapter End Notes

Is this my third update this week? I'm not sure but I think I'm forming an unhealthy obsession with this story hahaha

Anyways hope you're all enjoying it too :)

Chapter 13: Navigating

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, November 2020

The Centaurs were having a good start to their season, Ilya thought to himself, as they settled back into their routine post road trip. Sure they lost to the Admirals but they easily beat New Jersey and Philadelphia, they survived a tough overtime against Pittsburgh, and even managed to beat Boston when they were down there. Since getting home, they’d had practices, another media day with Harris, and played a home game against Colorado. It was a busy schedule so Ilya was grateful when their off day finally rolled around. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Luca blurted out as they were lounging in the living room that morning. Ilya, who was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, poked around it to look at Luca. He raised his eyebrows to encourage him to go on.

“So you’re bisexual, right?” He asked sheepishly. 

Finally, Ilya thought to himself.

“I am.” He kept his tone level. 

Luca nodded to himself as he took another careful sip of his tea.

“So that means you like men and women?” He continued.

Ilya cocked his head to the side and bit back the grin that threatened to rise to his face. Oh, how sweet this boy was.

“Yes, it does.” He affirmed.

“Right,” Luca said. He looked over to the windows that lined the wall opposite the couch, lost in thought as he decided where he wanted to take this conversation. Ilya could tell that he was trying to appear confident as he sat up a bit straighter on the couch, but his fingers were still fidgeting with the mug he was holding. It was adorable, really.

“And how did you know that you liked both?” His cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he met Ilya’s patient gaze again, “Men and women, I mean.” He quickly clarified, as if Ilya wasn’t sure what he meant.

Ilya chuckled to himself and sat up properly to give the boy his full attention. 

“I don’t know.” He glanced towards the windows, “Probably that I thought boys and girls were cute growing up.”

He shrugged as he turned to face Luca again. The answer didn’t satisfy him.

“So you just always knew?” A line had formed in between his eyebrows as he studied Ilya.

“No, I knew I liked girls since, well, forever. Boys, I think I started noticing more around middle school.” Ilya replied.

He had never really thought about this before, the moment when he first knew he liked guys. It sort of just happened. It was a natural exploration, one where he followed his gut instinct and not his brain, to navigate. That was with his coaches’ son back in Russia, when he was a teenager; it was dumb but also, somehow, the smartest thing he ever did. It led him to where he was now, in a country that was far more accepting of queer people, with a boyfriend who could only be more perfect for him if he was created in a lab. Even then, a lab-grown Shane probably wouldn’t measure up to his Shane. 

“You seem very comfortable with it all.” Luca noted as he gripped his mug a little tighter.

Ilya considered this with a waver of his head.

“I did not see it as a bad thing. More of an evolution.” Ilya said, “But the way I went about it, I maybe wouldn’t recommend it.”

“And what was that?” Luca probed. The question was innocent, inquisitive even, but it made Ilya’s throat a bit dry. He rolled his shoulders back as he looked back out the windows. There was a light dusting of frost on the ground.

“My mother died when I was 12.” His words sucked the air out of the room like they always did, “I used sex as an escape. First with girls, then with boys. My coaches’ son.”

He let his eyes flicker over to Luca who was hanging onto his every word. His eyes were big and kind, so Ilya continued.

“I did not have shame around it but I was reckless. I used people, sex, to ignore my emotions.” He swallowed to soothe his throat a bit, “I am very lucky that I got out of Russia without anyone finding out. I don’t know what would’ve happened if someone did.”

He did but he didn’t want to go there with Luca looking at him the way he was. If he was being honest with himself, a part of him wanted to get caught; it would permanently dull the pain that he had been experiencing for a long time. Galina had helped him to unpack that when they first started working together a couple years ago.

Luca sent Ilya a sympathetic smile and stretched out his leg so that he could press his foot against Ilya’s own on the couch. Ilya smiled at the contact.

“But it's okay. I am here now and I am much better.” He forced a wider smile on his face.

Luca nodded.

“Why do you ask?” Ilya prompted. The hard part was over, the vulnerable part, and now it was time to give Luca that same space–-that same safety–-to share on his end. He braced himself for whatever Luca wanted to share.

“I think I might be demisexual.” Luca admitted. Ilya cocked an eyebrow as he picked his phone up again.

“Demisexual, I do not know this.” He pulled up Google and tried to sound out the word as best he could.

“It’s kind of like,” Luca sighed and pulled his leg up under him again to get more comfortable, “You have to know someone first before you feel attracted to them.”

Ilya nodded along as he read some of the first things that had popped up on Google. He would have to do more research later, for now, he placed his phone face-down on the coffee table beside them.

“Okay, that is cool.” Ilya said casually.

Luca snickered, “Cool?”

“Well it could be worse. You could be straight.” He made a disgusted face at the idea which made Luca laugh. Ilya chuckled as well.

“God forbid.” Luca dramatically sighed. 

He leaned over and placed his mug on the coffee table as well. The energy shifted a bit as he got settled again on the couch, his hands coming up to play with the strings of his hoodie. Ilya smiled to himself as he watched Luca piece together his thoughts. He reminded him of a young Shane in that moment. Shane had his own nervous tics that he naively thought he was good at hiding but Ilya could see them clear as day. Maybe he was good at hiding them, to the people who didn't know him, but Ilya did, and Ilya also knew Luca. He wanted to bring the young boy out of his thoughts so he took the reins of the conversation.

“Are you telling me this because you wanted to or because there is someone in your life that I should know about?” Ilya asked kindly. He realized that he sounded a lot like a dad once the words escaped him. 

“Well there is someone but they aren’t like my someone.” Luca’s cheeks tinted pink.

Ilya hummed. He knew exactly where this was going; he saw the way he looked at Eric, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Well, maybe it did, seeing as the only others who might’ve picked up on their special relationship were Troy, Harris, and potentially Bood, but that last one was still to be determined. 

“Young?” His guess made Luca’s jaw drop.

“You too? Gosh, am I carrying around a glowing sign that says ‘I have a crush on Eric’ or something?” He asked incredulously. Ilya couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter that came out of him.

“Sort of, yes.” He laughed harder. 

Luca groaned and ran both of his hands over his face.

“If it helps, I do not think it goes one way.” Ilya expressed once he’d calmed down.

“What do you mean?” Luca looked at him from behind his fingers.

Ilya grinned, “You really think Eric is straight?”

Luca considered this, his eyes flickering over to the floor.

“Well, no. At least not fully.” He admitted.

Oh.

“Ah so this is why you were asking me about being bisexual?” He thought aloud. Luca sheepishly nodded. It made Ilya smile.

“Look I’m not one to speculate on other people’s sexuality,” He absolutely was, “But if I were to guess, I don’t think that Eric is straight.”

Luca deflated under his prognosis, as if he was the deity of the LGBTQ+ hockey world who had the authority to label guys as he saw fit. Well, it wasn’t the furthest thing from the truth, as he thought back on his resume; he has had a lot of success so far. He pushed those thoughts aside as he looked back at his rookie, who was equally reassured and made more anxious by Ilya’s perspective on the situation. 

“If I have one piece of advice from my own experience, it's this.” He paused for dramatic effect, “Do not let what other people think, not me or the guys or the media, determine your life.”

Luca hummed in response as his eyes drifted back over to the windows. He wasn’t entirely there as his thoughts clearly took him elsewhere. Ilya leaned into his periphery to get his attention again.

“I am serious,” Ilya insisted, “Trust your gut. Do what you want to do. Fuck everybody else.”

The corners of Luca’s lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. It was an in that Ilya jumped at.

“Well, wear protection when you do that last part.” He joked. 

There was a pause. Luca’s face flushed.

“You have had the, uh, what do you call it? The birds and the bees talk, yes?” Ilya added hesitantly.

Luca snapped his head over to Ilya again, “Oh gosh, yes, Ilya. Please don’t go there.” 

He was already getting up from the couch. Ilya chuckled.

“Okay, okay. I’m just making sure.” He put his hands up to defend himself.

Luca retreated up the staircase without another word and Ilya reached back over for his phone. He thought that conversation went better than he expected it would and he reminded himself to tell Shane about it later. For now, he clicked on a Reddit thread of parents realizing their kids were demisexual and started to scroll through other people’s stories. 

///

It was nearing the end of November and the nights were getting colder but that didn’t stop Bood from hosting one final barbecue of the season. It was something he did often, inviting the whole team over for smoked meats and a delicious spread that Cassie worked tirelessly over. Bood and Cassie were expecting now, so Ilya hadn’t expected another one of these until the following summer, once the baby was here and they were more settled as a family. He was content as he looked at the guys sitting around the firepit in Bood’s backyard, bellies impossibly full, and multiple layers of clothing on to keep them warm. 

Ilya was nursing a diet coke as they played some drinking game, not really doing it right seeing as no one was drinking, but enjoying one another’s company nonetheless. Wyatt had proclaimed himself as the card reader and he snickered to himself as he read the next one over. Somehow he was only asking the juiciest questions, which Ilya supposed was intentional, as he watched him furrow his brows at any card he deemed unworthy of their time. 

“Okay, I'm going to remix this card a bit--if you had to date another one of the guys on the team who would it be?” He smiled.

“Oh that’s so easy. Ilya.” Bood raised his own can of coke to Ilya from where he was sat across the fire pit. Ilya smirked to himself.

“I don’t know if Ilya would be a generous lover.” Chouinard contemplated aloud.

Ilya scoffed, “I will have you know that I am a very generous lover.” He knew that Shane would agree if he were here; well, maybe not out loud to the rest of the guys, but in his heart. He knew it to be true.

“Don’t worry, Roz, I think you’d be a generous lover.” Bood laughed. Cassie walked by at that exact moment, empty plates in hand, and she paused to look at them all in confusion. Then she thought better of it and continued on into the house. They all laughed.

“I think I would choose Roz too.” Wyatt decided.

“Well I would choose Chouinard.” Dykstra said. Chouinard gasped happily from beside him and reached over to slap his thigh.

“I was going to choose you too!” Chouinard admitted. They looked at each other lovingly, as most defensemen do. 

“What about you Troy?” Bood asked. Troy tried his best not to meet Ilya’s eyes as he grinned over at him.

“I am not playing this game.” Troy said with a straight face. There was a chorus of boos from around them.

“You’re no fun!” Wyatt pouted.

“Whatever, he can be a party pooper if he wants to,” Bood excused, “Okay, Roz, who would you choose?”

“I would choose none of you.” He shrugged and then took another sip of his coke.

“What? That’s not fair!” Dykstra said.

“None of you are good enough.” He grinned.

That led to another round of boos and disapproving statements. Just as Chouinard threw his empty can of ginger ale at Ilya, which he caught mid-air, the rookies came to join them. Ilya hadn’t realized they’d disappeared until he saw them walking through the side gate chuckling together. Luca was wrapped in a blanket now as he came to stand behind Ilya, placing his hands on both of his shoulders. Ilya placed one of his hands over Luca’s immediately.

It had taken Luca awhile to show physical affection for Ilya. He was a big physical touch guy himself; something he’d had to suppress growing up and only learned to love about himself since dating Shane. He’d found ways to share that with Luca on the ice and he tried not to take it personally when Luca was hesitant off the ice, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t hard. He was happy when, on their most recent road trip, Luca was crossing that barrier more. 

He had slept on Ilya’s shoulder on the bus ride from New Jersey to Philadelphia and he pressed his leg against Ilya’s under the table when the guys would get a bit rowdy at dinner. He even asked Ilya to fix his shoulder pads before their game in Boston when they were uncomfortably lopsided. It made Ilya’s chest warm whenever Luca crossed that barrier. It told him that there was a comfortability there; that this young boy maybe needed the physical affection as much as Ilya did.

In this moment, he could tell that Luca needed it as he settled under Ilya’s touch. 

“Okay, rooks, quick question for you!” Bood nodded over to Wyatt. 

Ilya's heart dropped.

“If you had to date one of the other players on the team, who would you choose?” Wyatt happily read the card out to them. 

Luca’s hands tensed on Ilya’s shoulders. He didn’t dare look up at him, or Troy who had also stiffened in his chair beside them, instead he looked casually over at Young and LaPointe. LaPointe’s head fell back with laughter which Young seemed to mimic a few seconds later, sounding a bit more forced than LaPointe’s.

“I would choose Wyatt.” LaPointe finally answered once he stopped laughing. 

Ilya wondered if they’d gotten up to something since disappearing about an hour ago. He faintly smelled a skunky smell coming off of Luca’s blanket and realized that they must’ve gone for a special walk. He smiled to himself just as Wyatt rushed over and smacked a dramatic kiss on LaPointe’s cheek. He wiped it off immediately and pushed Wyatt back over to his chair.

“Young? Haas?” Dykstra prompted. Ilya tried not to physically cringe. He could sense Luca’s nerves and debated stepping in before Young spoke up.

“Well I have to choose Haasy, right?” Young smiled wide as he threw an arm around Luca’s shoulders. Luca’s hands tensed even more on Ilya’s shoulders. 

“I mean he lets me control the thermostat in hotel rooms and he doesn't even complain when I make it freezing cold. He buys me coffee, he lets me sleep on his shoulder on plane rides, and he draws little things for me whenever I ask. He’s boyfriend material.” Young said it like it was the most obvious answer, which was only confirmed when the guys around them seemed to agree. Ilya wondered if it was the weed giving him the courage to admit all of this or if this was just how Young was; he was a very confident kid, Ilya had to admit, and he reminded him of himself sometimes. Maybe a bit nicer though, seeing as he would never compliment Shane like this in public at the beginning of their relationship. He had to remind himself that the situation was different.

“What about you, Luca?” Wyatt asked. Ilya's heart panged in his chest.

“Well he has to say me now, doesn't he?” Young jumped in before Luca could even answer. He pinched Luca’s cheek jokingly as the guys chuckled at them. Luca quickly swatted it away. 

“You wish.” Luca muttered, returning his hand to Ilya’s.

“Okay, next question, Wyatt.” Ilya announced. He gave Luca’s hand a light squeeze which Luca gently squeezed back. He felt the rookie’s body relax a little bit as Young went to sit on the ground beside Bood.

“Ooh, this one’s a fun one! Okay, what was your first time like?” Wyatt wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Ilya wanted to curse out whoever had written these cards and whoever decided they should play this stupid game to begin with. And also Wyatt, who was being an unintentional shit disturber, but a shit disturber all the same. 

“Mine was horrible,” Bood wiped a tired hand over his face, “Let’s just say the girl’s parents walked in.”

Some of the guys laughed around them while others groaned.

“Mine was with my wife. It went well, actually.” Chouinard added.

“We get it, you married your high school sweetheart. You have three beautiful children. Your life is perfect.” Dykstra jokingly rolled his eyes.

“Four!” LaPointe corrected, causing a few laughs around the pit, as Chouinard leaned over to punch Dykstra’s arm.

Some of the other guys answered, even Ilya offered some semblance of the truth to his own first time; he didn’t feel like going into detail about how young he was and how sad the whole situation was in hindsight. The guys didn’t ask for any more details than he was willing to offer, which he was grateful for. He held a little tighter onto Luca’s hand as more guys shared around the group, leaving only the rookies to answer. He silently hoped that the guys didn’t ask them--they were still so young in comparison. And to be honest, he figured Luca was still a virgin, especially after their conversation earlier that day. Either way, it didn’t seem like something Luca felt comfortable talking about.

“I might have to pass up on this question, boys.” Young chuckled nervously as he wiggled himself closer to the fire.

“Oh, c’mon. I know you’re not a virgin.” Bood poked Young’s side with his foot. Young blushed as his eyes focussed on the fire.

“There’s a story there.” Dykstra spoke the words that were on everyone’s mind, which made both Bood and Eric laugh. The guys egged them on to share it.

“It’s nothing!” Young insisted as LaPointe shook both of his shoulders.

“We just came home the other day and found Eric with a young lady on the couch.” Bood smiled knowingly at Young. Some of the guys around them whistled, while others teased the rookie. Ilya rubbed his thumb across Luca’s wrist.

“It wasn’t like that, you perverts!” Young said, but the blush on his cheeks betrayed him, “We were just watching a movie, nothing happened.” Ilya could’ve sworn that he heard Luca scoff under his breath from above him.

“Yeah, yeah, rook, I’ve used that same excuse before.” Chouinard laughed, thinking back to his own teenage years with his wife.

Young gave up trying to defend himself as Bood wrestled his head under his arm and ruffled his hair. While the rest of the guys were distracted by the commotion, asking Young more about this mysterious young lady, Luca leaned down and snaked his arms across Ilya’s chest.

“Can we maybe head out soon? I’m getting tired.” He whispered. Ilya held onto Luca’s forearms a little tighter to ground him.

“Of course. Let’s just let the fire die out and then we’ll head out.” He mumbled.

The fire was on its last log anyways so Ilya figured it wouldn’t take much longer for it to burn out. Luca nodded meekly and placed his chin on top of Ilya’s head. Ilya welcomed the embrace and the warmth that the blanket brought them both as they sat in the cool night air. He ignored the skunky smell that nipped at his nose; maybe this was what Shane had been complaining about for years.

“Last question?” Wyatt announced. Beside Ilya, Troy yawned and nodded enthusiastically as he leaned a bit further into his camping chair. Some of the other guys murmured their agreement from around the fire.

“Aw, I like this one. Okay, everyone go around and compliment the person on your left.” He smiled and looked over to his left.

“Troy,” Wyatt sang his name which made Troy jokingly roll his eyes, “You have very pretty eyes.” 

Some of the guys agreed as Troy tried his best to tamper the smile that came to his face.

“Thank you, Wyatt.” He said and then turned to look between Ilya and Luca, who were still tucked together comfortably, “Okay, which one of you do I have to compliment?”

“Me!” Ilya said it a little bit too fast, a wide grin on his face. 

“Oh.” Troy pouted.

“Don’t sound too happy, now.” Ilya shot back. Troy grinned.

“Roz, you are an amazing listener. And you give great advice.” Troy said earnestly. Ilya’s heart clenched in his chest.

“That’s an understatement.” Dykstra noted. The guys all agreed in their different ways which made Ilya smile as he stared at the flames. They were flickering much smaller now.

“See! Generous lover.” Bood joked. Ilya chuckled and then patted Luca’s arm a couple times. He felt Luca shift a bit above him, likely waking him up a bit from his tiredness as his weight was almost entirely on Ilya now.

“Okay, I get Luca.” Ilya hummed happily. Luca groaned and stood up straighter, leaving his arms draped loosely around Ilya’s neck, as the guys chuckled around them.

“There’s so many things I could say.” Ilya sighed happily. He could just picture the way that Luca rolled his eyes above him.

“Let’s keep it short, then, yeah?” Luca quipped.

“Luca is a good cook, he is an amazing artist, he has a beautiful slapshot, he gives the best hugs, he is–”

“Okay, Ilya, that’s enough.” Luca chuckled nervously.

“-he is very pretty, he has pretty glasses and a button nose, he has a cute snore–-I mean, who sounds cute when they snore?” Ilya continued.

“Ilya, I’m serious.” Luca tapped his chest, clearly embarrassed. The guys around them just laughed. Ilya grinned, enjoying every second of embarrassing his rookie; was this what it was like to be a proud parent?

“But I am just getting started.” Ilya tilted his head back to pout up at Luca. He was blushing as he smiled shyly down at him. Luca shook his head and then looked over at Dykstra who was next in the compliment circle.

“Okay, Dykstra!” Luca exhaled and they continued their final round of answers. 

///

“Okay, now just stare down the lens like you’re in love.” Harris instructed. Luca knitted his eyebrows together as he looked straight past the camera at Harris.

“No, not like that.” Harris sighed and lowered the camera again. 

They’d been at this for over an hour, which was about 30 minutes longer than Luca was promised when Harris first asked him to do the photoshoot. He was starting to get frustrated. The team was supposed to release new merchandise ahead of the holidays and instead of hiring models for the photos, Harris thought it best to use the models they already had. Unfortunately for Luca, that included him.

“Harris, I really don’t think I’m good at this.” He whined, the same way he’d whined when Harris first volunteered him for the shoot, “I think you should ask one of the other guys to step in for me.”

The last time Luca suggested that, when Harris first had the idea to use a handful of the players as models, he said that Luca would be a natural. You have that European vibe about you. You’re the perfect guy for the job. This time, now that they were running late due to Luca’s pure awkwardness, Harris had a different approach.

“Do I need to get Eric in here?” The question was meant to be light teasing but it came across as more of a threat to Luca than anything else. Luca blushed as he looked down at the sweats he was wearing. He heard a click.

“That’s perfect!” Harris beamed and kept snapping photos as Luca looked back up at the camera through his lashes, a slight smirk on his face, “See, I knew you’d be great at this!”

Luca chuckled nervously to himself as he glanced over at the window. More clicks. Before they could continue, the door flew open.

“We’re busy!” Harris called over, the camera still pressed to his face as he snapped more photos. Luca looked over at the door and Eric stood there, frozen in place, as he looked back at Luca. It was then that he remembered he was shirtless, only wearing the team branded sweatpants as Eric’s eyes danced over his body slowly. Luca hadn't felt weird about being shirtless until that moment, when Eric was looking at him like that. He couldn’t help but smile, a light blush on his cheeks, as he watched Eric’s eyes. When he finally met Luca’s gaze, Eric cleared his throat.

“Uh, sorry. Coach Wiebe was just wondering when you’d be done?” Eric forced himself to look over at Harris who had yet to stop capturing photos of Luca. Luca looked back over at the camera, hands stuffed in his pockets, as he waited on Harris’ answer.

One final snap and then Harris lowered the camera again, a knowing smile on his face as he looked between the pair.

“We’re all done here. Great job, Luca.” He beamed.

Luca smiled to himself and quickly shrugged on the Centaurs branded hoodie that he had been wearing for previous photos. Eric shuffled awkwardly in the doorway as Luca quickly thanked Harris and talked logistics for when the photos would go live. When he finally met Eric at the door, he was holding it open for Luca to walk through, unable to meet his gaze. 

“Everything okay?” Luca asked, one eyebrow raised. His heart fluttered when Eric finally met his eyes.

“Uh yeah, great.” Eric smiled faintly and led them down the hallway to the film room. He smiled to himself as they went to join the team meeting.

Team meetings went well for the rest of the day. They reviewed tape from their previous game against Montreal, the one where Luca had that sneaky breakaway, and Luca tried his best not to think about what happened at the club every time Comeau came up on the screen. When Coach Wiebe was slowing down and replaying one of the many times Luca was checked into the boards, he repeated the same advice Ilya had given him on the bench right afterwards. Cut in on the inside instead. Luca nodded along, jotting notes down in his notepad, but he couldn’t help but notice the way that Ilya and Troy were whispering amongst themselves near the front of the room. 

He knew it was going to be a rough game, and no matter what he said to his vets, it wouldn’t change their minds. So he just nodded along as Coach moved onto the defensive strategy, doodling in his notepad until he had to pay attention again.

Chapter End Notes

Okay so I finally caved and started reading Role Model... I'm kinda impressed with some of the mirroring I unintentionally did between Troy and Luca's walk-and-talk from a couple chapters ago and Ilya and Troy's walk-and-talk in the book, iykyk

Anyways, just a note that in this fic, I'm imagining that this is Troy's second year on the Centaurs, not his first! But also, him and Harris are slowly figuring their shit out...not that it matters too too much, we just vibe over here haha

Hope y'all are enjoying this <3

 

UPDATE: there is now an Eric POV of the rookie's special walk available as part of this series! Just look for "A Special Walk" under the "Growing Outward Series" and you'll find it there :)

Chapter 14: The Documentary

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, December 2020

“Okay, Sophia, I gotta go! Shane is here.” Luca bounded down the stairs with his phone held up. Ilya pulled away from where he was hugging Shane in the front hallway and placed one final kiss on his temple as they turned to greet Luca.

“Okay, say hi for me!” Sophia’s voice came from the other end of the phone.

“You can say hi for yourself.” Luca grinned and suddenly he was beside them, holding his phone up so that all 3 of them were in the frame.

“Hi Sophia!” Ilya beamed at the girl. 

She looked tired, it was probably past midnight over there, and she was still sitting at her desk surrounded by notes. Luca talked about her a lot and even sometimes let Ilya talk with her over FaceTime himself. She was a good kid, a smart kid, who was in the middle of applying for medical schools across Europe, which Ilya couldn’t fully wrap his brain around. The pair of them seemed so close he just assumed she would try to come to school over here to make it easier on them. Ilya could sense a lingering sadness whenever Luca bragged about her to the other guys on the team; he figured that Luca would like her around more. 

Over the past couple months, Sophia seemed to be more comfortable with the idea of Ilya being more than just the hockey player she watched growing up; rather as Luca's family-away-from-family. He already had inside jokes with her and they liked to tease Luca whenever they got the chance. While she knew about Shane and Ilya–-something they all agreed was easier than Luca hiding it from her-–she’d never met Shane before. Ilya smiled to himself when he noticed the way her eyes widened and cheeks tinted pink as Shane came into frame.

“Bonjour Sophia! It’s nice to put a face to a name.” Shane sent her a small wave. 

“Bonjour Shane.” She smiled shyly. Luca chuckled.

“Okay, you better go to bed soon. You don’t need to keep studying, it’s already in your brain.” Luca lowered the phone and walked over towards the kitchen. Ilya smiled to himself as the tone of Luca’s voice changed to something he rarely heard; big brother Luca. 

“I make no promises.” She quipped back. 

Ilya chuckled as he started to drag Shane’s bags over to the bottom of the staircase. They said their goodbyes in French and then Luca dragged Shane over to the kitchen where he already had a bunch of ingredients laid out for them. He’d asked Ilya if he could cook for them, since it was their special night, which Ilya only agreed to because he knew it would make Luca happy.

“And we got popcorn for tonight! I’m so excited.” Luca beamed as Ilya clued back into their conversation. Shane cringed ever so slightly at the suggestion but his smile never faltered.

“Not so fast, we gotta get through dinner first.” Shane joked. Ilya could sense the nerves in his tone as he watched the two standing at the island together, “What can I help with?”

“Nothing, just sit. Tell me about your game against Florida!” Luca insisted as he started to pull out the pots and pans he needed. Ilya quickly grabbed a can of ginger ale from the fridge and slid it over to where Shane was now sitting at the island. Then he carried Shane’s bags up to the bedroom. 

///

They ate their dinner and casually chatted about their recent games. The Voyageurs also had a good start to their season, one that Shane seemed to be proud of, and made him think they were going for another Cup run. Ilya joked that they’d have to get through the Centaurs first which, in any other year, Luca would’ve taken with a grain of salt. This year, though, they might actually have a chance at the playoffs. He thought back to what Yuna and David had said in their kitchen just a couple months ago.

As the night progressed, they seamlessly fell into random conversations; stories from their younger years in the MLH, random childhood memories of Luca and Sophia, funny things they’d seen in airports. Shane off-handedly mentioned how Hayden Pike had recently started a FanMail account, which made Ilya’s eyes light up in a way that Luca only saw when he was about to cause havoc. He just laughed when Ilya darted over to his phone and quickly paid for a video request; he said something about wanting Hayden to sing the Canadian national anthem. Shane rolled his eyes at them. Luca liked this, watching the two of them like this, relaxed and acting like themselves. It was very different from the PR interviews and media personas he’d seen of them over the years. Things were very different when the cameras were turned off; in a good way, he noted to himself, as the commercial break ended.

“Okay, shh. It’s starting.” Luca turned the volume up on the TV and they all turned their attention to it. 

There wasn’t anything particularly interesting about the documentary. It was just a series of clips, of hockey games and interviews from over the years, edited together with the same narrative Luca had grown up hearing about. He wondered how long the media could stretch this rivalrous narrative about Shane and Ilya before it got boring. Apparently, 11 years wasn’t long enough. When they got to the part where Shane got injured back in 2017, Ilya shifted uncomfortably in his seat. On the screen, Shane was sprawled out on the ice, eerily still as the medics rushed over to him. Luca remembered watching this game with his sister and the silence that had fallen over their basement as they waited for any sign of movement.

“Spoiler,” Shane said with a shaky laugh to break the tension, “I wake up.” 

Luca chuckled nervously as well but his eyes drifted over to Ilya who was snuggled with Shane on the other side of the couch. He wasn’t laughing.

Ilya pulled Shane a little closer to his chest as they detailed the incident. It seemed like this was the first time Shane had seen any of this. He asked at what point he regained consciousness which Ilya gave a weak answer to. Apparently Shane had been asking for Ilya, trying to let him know that he was alright, but the medics couldn’t understand him.

Luca’s heart clenched when they cut to a close up of Ilya’s face. He looked so distraught, so helpless, as they dragged the love of his life off the ice. Well, at that point they weren’t dating, according to the timeline they’d shared with Luca, but it didn’t take a genius to see the mix of emotions on Ilya’s face. Luca couldn’t imagine what that felt like. He never wanted to find out.

“How could they not know?” Shane said, “How could anyone have seen this–-seen you–-and not know about us?”

It was like he pulled the thought straight from Luca’s brain.

“I don’t know,” Ilya answered honestly. 

Luca averted his eyes as Shane sat up from his place on Ilya’s chest and wiped away a few tears that had silently escaped his boyfriend. Ilya’s glassy eyes never left the screen.

“You know what,” Luca paused the documentary without a second thought, “We don’t have to keep watching this.”

Shane and Ilya turned to him, not with confusion or anger, just relief. Shane nodded a few times as he looked over at Ilya whose face looked very similar to the one they had just shown on the screen a few moments before. Luca felt terrible for how excited he had been to watch this documentary with them. He wondered if they’d even wanted to watch it or if they were just doing it for Luca’s sake.

“I’m sorry guys.” Luca exhaled.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Shane shook his head. 

“No, I mean,” Luca motioned towards the screen, “This is all just so...fucked. I’m sorry they don’t see you for who you truly are.”

“They’re not ready.” Ilya's voice was thick with emotion as he wiped at his own cheeks and sat up a little straighter. 

It was sad, really, the way that they just accepted that reality. It made Luca angry. He didn’t want to accept that; not for his vets as they sat across from him on the couch, easily the most loving couple he had ever seen; not for Troy and Harris, whose relationship was blossoming into something beautiful; not even for himself. Even so, Luca knew they were right, regardless of how he felt, regardless of what Scott Hunter had bravely done just a few years prior. They all knew deep down that the MLH wasn't ready for two male hockey players to openly date one another. 

Luca felt empty as he stared at the frozen image on the screen. It was a blurred headline talking about how Ilya was seen leaving Montreal General Hospital the morning after Shane’s incident. The narrator probably excused it simply as captain's duties; it’s the classy thing to do when one of your guys takes out an opponent, he could hear the narrator’s voice in his head. He fidgetted with the strings of his hoodie as they all sat in contemplative silence.

Luca cleared his throat, “I just want you to know that if I knew about you guys as a kid, about your relationship, that would’ve meant so much to me.”

He ignored the way his cheeks flamed as he reluctantly met their eyes. Ilya’s face was so soft as he looked over at him with a small smile on his face. Shane’s expression was a bit harder to read as his glossy brown eyes searched Luca’s face. No one said anything for a moment, they just stared at each other, almost like it took a moment for his words to settle in their brains.

Then, Shane sat up from Ilya’s arms and he scooched a bit closer to Luca. He pulled him into a tight hug, one that Luca let himself melt into, as Shane balled the back of Luca’s hoodie in his fists. It felt heavier than just an appreciative gesture, almost like he was giving a younger version of himself a hug, and Luca welcomed it. He turned his head so that he could see Ilya over Shane's shoulder. He was watching them with a watery smile on his face. He reached over and ruffled Luca's hair lovingly before Luca tucked his head back into Shane's shoulder. He let Shane hug him for as long as he needed, only pulling apart when Ilya’s phone buzzed loudly on the coffee table, making Luca flinch. 

It was a text from Hayden Pike, just a photo of his middle finger, followed quickly by a refund from the FanMail app. 

///

“Okay, quick question of the day before you get ready!” Harris nudged Troy into the frame as Ilya and Luca arrived at the arena. He did so willingly, even if he pretended to hate being in front of the camera, somehow he was always there. Luca bit back his smile as Harris continued.

“If you could describe the team in one word, what would it be?”

Ilya burst out laughing and Luca flushed a deep red. Troy stiffened as he averted his eyes and focussed on the empty hallway directly behind Harris. Harris just smiled cheekily behind the camera and Luca silently cursed him for it. He was eating this up.

“What’s so funny, Ilya?” Harris giggled.

Ilya collected himself and walked over to smack a kiss on the side of Harris’ head.

“I love you, Harris. You kill me.” He sighed happily. Then he poked back around to stare directly at the camera, entirely too close, and answered, “Gay.”

Ilya jogged towards the locker room with a cheeky grin on his face as both Luca’s and Troy’s eyes widened. 

“I’m going to have to bleep that out!” Harris called after him with a roll of his eyes. He returned his attention to the two guys who were still frozen in front of him, “Okay, what would you guys say?”

Luca cleared his throat just as Bood and Wyatt walked up behind them. Ilya’s giggle was still echoing through the hallway.

“What’s the Question of the Day?” Wyatt looked innocently between them all.

“Please don’t–” Troy started.

“What’s one word you’d use to describe the team?” Harris beamed at Troy, who was scowling now.

Bood and Wyatt looked between one another, evidently confused why they could still hear Ilya maniacally laughing from the locker room, and Troy rolled his eyes. 

“Childish.” Troy deadpanned as he walked past the camera and joined Ilya in the locker room. 

The other two guys were still deciding between themselves so Luca sent a sheepish smile at the camera and gave a serious answer.

“I would say family.” He decided.

“Awww.” Bood echoed beside him, pulling him into an awkward side hug over the large bag he was carrying. Luca squirmed in his grip as he finally jogged out of frame and into the locker room where Troy and Ilya were horsing around. Troy had him in a headlock that Ilya let himself be pulled into, a big grin on his face as Troy pretended to beat him up.

He knew that video, even with Ilya’s bleeped answer, would get a lot of views on social media, so he made a mental note not to check the comment section later. The fans were still going crazy shipping him and Eric. He didn’t need to be reminded of that any more than he already was, which is to say, a lot.

“What did you say?” Ilya asked Luca when he finally wrestled out of Troy’s grasp.

“Family.” Luca shrugged.

“That’s a good one. I think mine is better though.” Ilya grinned.

Luca rolled his eyes, “You’re going to drive the fans crazy with that one.”

“It’s my favourite part of my job.” He turned so that he could hang his suit jacket up in his stall just as Bood and Wyatt joined them in the locker room.

“Bood, what did you say?” Ilya called over his shoulder. Bood dropped his bag at the foot of his own locker.

“Handsome, obviously.” He chuckled.

“Obviously.” Ilya repeated it like it was the most normal response, “And you, Hayes?”

Wyatt was stepping out of his dress shoes. He looked up at their captain with a wide smile.

“I said loving.” He seemed to be proud of that answer. Luca smiled to himself.

“You guys are going to make me cry.” Bood coo’d just as Eric walked into the locker room. He’d clearly driven separately from Bood, which confused Luca, but he didn’t ask why.

“Harris’ question was so nice today.” Eric said to no one in particular as he found his spot next to Luca. He pushed his backpack into the locker and turned to face the room when Ilya spoke.

“And what did you say?” Ilya prompted.

“Handsome, obviously.” Eric didn’t even hesitate.The guys all around him laughed which made him freeze on the spot, like a deer caught in headlights. He glanced around the room skeptically, “What?”

“Like father, like son.” Bood shrugged from his own stall while the guys still snickered.

“Don’t worry about it.” Luca reassured him and pulled Eric down to sit in his stall. His cheeks were a bit flushed, clearly embarrassed, as he let himself be pulled down. They all fell into their pre-game routines.

///

“Man, you guys are fun to watch!” Bood chimed as he walked back into the locker room after the second period. Leave it to Bood to diffuse the tension in the room with just a few simple words. Luca smiled over at him as he grabbed an energy gel packet and returned to his stall. 

They were up 1-0 and playing tactfully as they held the Voyageurs in their defensive end for most of the period. So far, so good. There were no injuries or unnecessary aggression, but Luca suspected that was because the Voyageurs had changed up their first line ahead of the game so that Comeau was on the second line instead of the first. He wondered how much of a say Shane had in that decision. Nevertheless, the game was still tense. He could tell that his team wanted this and it led to some scrappiness near the end of the second period. It was tense out there and Luca’s heart was still pounding in his chest as he fell back into his stall.

He was just grateful that Comeau wasn’t on the ice when himself, Ilya, or Troy were. Instead, Luca had been paired with a defender who could actually keep up with his speed which made it a bit trickier for him to get shots on net. Either way, he was up for the challenge and was silently grateful for the last minute change. The thought of Comeau on the ice with Troy and Ilya made him nervous in a way that he didn’t think he could handle during a game like this.

He nibbled at his energy gel packet as Coach Wiebe scribbled something on the whiteboard at the front of the room. They still had a few minutes before they returned to the ice for the third period.

“You guys are doing great,” Coach acknowledged as he capped the marker he was just writing with. A hush fell across them as they all turned their full attention to him, “But I know you can do better.”

Luca leaned forward onto his thighs as he looked down at the ground just ahead of him. 

“I want everyone to look at the quote on the board. Ilya, can you do us the honours.” Wiebe stepped aside so that they could all see the board behind him.

Luca glanced over at Ilya who was clearly wound up tight. His skin was flushed as he wiped a towel over his damp hair. He reluctantly looked over at the whiteboard, clearly not thinking straight, as he took in the words. Luca wondered if he'd fallen back into his mother tongue in his brain; he often did that when he was flustered. Luca debated jumping in to read it for him when Ilya sat up a bit straighter.

He cleared his throat, “Today I will give all I have, for this moment may never come again.”

A silence fell over the room as Coach Wiebe let the words sink in. Luca mirrored Ilya and sat up a little straighter then, accepting the challenge that their Coach had clearly laid out for them.

“I want you to think about that when you go back out on that ice.” With one final glance around the room, the guys all geared up again, a new energy about them as they bounded out of the room.

If only Luca knew how true those words would be when he stepped onto the ice for the third period. 

Chapter End Notes

AO3 being down yesterday made me so upset but I'm glad it's back up!

Also, can we talk about Connor on SNL?? So good!

Chapter 15: Home Ice Advantage

Chapter Notes

TW: violence, mentions of blood, PTSD flashbacks.

Ottawa, December 2020

“Hollander, you are slow today.” Ilya joked as he lazily skated to a stop in front of Shane. Luca snickered to himself from where he was positioned behind Ilya at one of the face-off circles in their defensive end.

“Whatever, Rozanov.” Shane muttered as he leaned down for the face-off.

In the past couple shifts, Luca realized how much satisfaction Ilya got from chirping Shane on the ice. It almost gave him a new energy--a sense of urgency--that he needed at that moment to push through the game. The only problem was that it seemed to do the same for Shane. Maybe that's why he was doing it.

“Oh come on, I know you can do better than that.” Ilya mirrored Shane’s stance. Luca couldn’t see it from where he stood but he could just imagine the challenging grin plastered on Ilya’s face. He watched as the corners of Shane’s lips twitched, his eyes focussed on the empty space between their sticks.

Within a few seconds of the puck hitting the ice, Shane had immediately gained possession and found his way towards the net. Chouinard and Dykstra tried their best, but in the time it took them to blink, the puck had soared under Wyatt’s glove and into the back of the net. Shane smirked over at Ilya as his own teammates came to celebrate around him. Luca took the brief opportunity to saddle up next to his captain.

“Maybe don’t chirp the best player in the league when we’re at a face-off in our end.” Luca said under his breath. Ilya just shoved the rookie away as they skated back over to their bench.

///

The Centaurs were up 2-1 as they neared the end of the third period and it felt like they might have this game in the bag. Ilya was waiting for their line change as he watched Bood skate quickly over to the bench, calling out to Luca who wasted no time and hopped over the boards, seemingly reading Bood’s mind. He darted up the right-hand side of the ice and called out to Young, who had possession of the puck at centre ice. Young didn’t even have to look at Luca to know where to send the puck, he just passed it perfectly ahead of Luca who could've easily cut in and had a breakaway towards the net.

Then, it happened.

Just as Luca’s stick connected with the puck, Comeau came out of nowhere. He abruptly stopped in Luca’s path and checked him with a dirty shoulder to the head. Luca’s body crumpled into the boards awkwardly and he fell like a limp rag doll towards the ice. 

Ilya’s heart stopped. The whole arena gasped and then broke out into a series of loud boos as the whistle blew. It didn't matter, Ilya saw red, and he wasn't the only one. Within a split second, the whole bench charged onto the ice. All other senses faded to the background as he set his sight on Comeau. He was going to get what he wanted.

“Comeau!” He yelled out at the defender as he charged at him, dodging players and refs as he went straight for him. Ilya couldn't remember exactly when he'd dropped his gloves but they were gone and  just as Comeau turned to face him, he landed the first punch.

Comeau was only shocked for a second before he dropped his own gloves, but it didn't matter; Comeau wasn't going to get a hit in even if he tried. Ilya was landing blow after blow, one fistful of Comeau’s jersey in his left hand, digging hard into his shoulder, as he pounded at the guys’ head with the other. He was cursing in Russian, anything and everything that came to his mind at that moment; English didn’t feel like enough and, to be honest, he wasn’t thinking clearly enough to speak in anything but his mother tongue.

He could faintly hear the brawls going on around him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Troy going at it with another one of the defenders, Bood was wrestling one of their forwards to the ground, and he could even hear Pike trying to break something up nearby. When Comeau finally landed on the ice, covered in his own blood, the refs immediately started to pull Ilya away from him. He went willingly but he stared Comeau down as the large man cowered on the ice. He was coughing up blood as one ref knelt down by his side.

“Not so tough now, are you? You piece of shit.” Ilya spat onto the ice.

“Okay, that’s enough, Rozanov.” The ref who was dragging him away said. There was no real threat in his words; even he knew it was a dirty hit. A dirty hit against a rookie. You just don't do that, it's an unwritten rule in the game, but Ilya knew exactly why Comeau did it. And that's exactly why Ilya did what he did in return. For Luca.

Wait, Luca.

Ilya’s eyes darted around the ice. He noticed that most of the other brawls had been defused somehow, with some guys still holding onto one another just in case they got rowdy again. There were so many bodies on the ice that it took Ilya a second to find Luca. When he finally did, he saw that Luca was still lying near the boards, now with Shane and some other medics by his side. Ilya shoved the ref off and skated over to them, coming to a clumsy stop beside Shane as he knelt near Luca’s head.

“Luca? Luca, can you hear me?” Ilya panicked. He reached out his hands but stopped when he saw the blood on them. He didn't want to get any on the boy as he laid with his eyes firmly pressed shut.

“He’s okay.” Shane answered for him. Ilya searched Luca's face and his eyes finally fluttered open.

“Ilya?” He rasped out.

“I am here, Luca.” He blinked hard a few times to see more clearly. He could’ve sworn Shane had a hand on his back at that moment, trying to comfort him as he tried his best to tame the panic in his chest. Some part of his brain thought about the cameras, the optics, but none of it mattered at that moment. The only thing that mattered was Luca.

Luca finally looked up at him with his big blue eyes. They were dazed and glossy as Ilya tried to search them for something, anything, to tell him how Luca was feeling. The medics insisted that they needed to get off the ice but they all ignored them. 

After a moment, Luca’s lips twitched up, “I should’ve cut in on the inside.”

A watery laugh escaped Ilya’s lips. He wiped his nose across his sleeve.

“Da, Luca. You should’ve listened to me.” He smiled down at the boy as Luca smirked back up at him. It looked a bit more like a grimace than anything else and Ilya thought that maybe the medics were right about getting him off the ice.

Luca's eyes fluttered open and closed a few times, almost like he was making sure he could still do it, before he spoke again.

“I think I can get up.” Luca decided with a small nod.

“Are you sure?” Shane asked. Ilya finally turned to look at him and while he was doing a good job at hiding his emotions--at least, compared to Ilya, who was still shaking from the fight--he could tell that he was just as terrified as Ilya was.

“Yeah, just help me. Please.” Luca grimaced. 

The medics had a stretcher on the way but Luca insisted he could do it himself. Ilya wasn't quite convinced but when Luca started to get up, he and Shane quickly got on either side of the boy to carefully support him. When he was fully upright, they held onto his forearms for support as they guided him back over to the Centaurs bench. The whole arena clapped for him as they slowly got him off the ice, where the medics took over and helped him into the tunnel. Ilya let go of a shaky breath as he watched them retreat into darkness. When he realized Shane was still standing beside him he cleared his throat and turned to face him.

“Thanks, Hollander.” He wanted to reach out and touch Shane then, just something small to ground himself; maybe a firm shoulder pat or a fist bump like any other captain would do, but he still had blood on his hands and the cameras were still rolling. Instead, he found himself frozen staring at the love of his life on the ice who could read all of Ilya's thoughts and emotions in a flash. Shane sent him a small, tight-lipped smile in return. He would see him soon anyways, Ilya had to remind himself. With a quick nod at the Centaurs bench, who were all watching them alongside the rest of the arena, Shane skated back over to his own bench. 

“He’s a nice guy, eh?” Wyatt commented to no one in particular as they all waited for the penalties to be handed out. 

“Da, he is.” Ilya sighed.

A few moments later, Ilya was ejected from the game but he didn’t care. He went searching for Luca in the underbelly of the Canadian Tire Centre, towel in hand as he wiped his hands of Comeau's blood.

Even with all of the penalties, they still won the game, and Ilya got exactly what he wanted.

 ///

The Centaurs doctor, Terry, ran a bunch of tests on Luca after the game. Miraculously, he just had a sprained wrist and a concussion, which made Ilya's heart rate settle a bit as he sat in the corner of the treatment room. Luca was advised to ice his wrist and avoid screens for the rest of the night, which he seemed completely disinterested in, as Ilya diligently listened to Terry's orders. He set a few alarms to wake Luca up throughout the night--just to check his symptoms again, in case they got worse and they needed to go to the hospital--while Luca sulked on the table and insisted he was fine. The other two men ignored him. They were only allowed to leave once Luca promised to come to the practice facility the next morning for a follow-up. Ilya reassured Terry that he would drive him in himself.

When they finally got home they were greeted by a very anxious Shane. He pulled Luca into a careful but grounding hug and then quickly called his parents to prove to them that Luca was fine. Turns out Yuna wasn’t just blowing up Ilya’s phone, but also Shane’s, and maybe even Luca’s but he hadn’t checked that since the second intermission. Ilya made a mental note to message Sophia later on. 

Once Yuna asked all of her medical questions, running her own tests on Luca to ensure he didn't have any other ailments, Ilya grabbed an ice pack for his wrist and made them all a cup of tea. When the three of them finally tucked into the couch, Luca said he wanted to watch a video of the fight. Shane was hesitant, insisting that the screens wouldn’t be good for his concussion, but Ilya agreed because Luca looked so cute wrapped in a blanket, a light dusting of bruises under his eyes, as he sipped on his tea.

"Just the one video and then it's time for bed." Ilya compromised as he pulled the video up on his phone to cast it to the TV.

Shane shot him a wary look. Ilya ignored it. He was just happy that Luca was alright.

He knew it was a good fight but that wasn’t what he was focussed on as he heard Luca groan with each punch. Instead, he was looking at the periphery of the brawl, where Luca was laying on the ice. He had a flashback to a few years prior when Marlow took out Shane in a similar fashion. It sent a chill down his spine as he shuffled a bit from where he was resting against Shane's chest. Shane sensed his nerves and he squeezed him a little tighter. Ilya took a deep breath.

Shane had stayed by Luca’s side the whole time Ilya was fighting. As soon as the Centaurs bench cleared, followed shortly by the Voyageurs, he darted straight for Luca. He shielded him from the fights that broke out all around them, yelling at the guys and pushing whoever came a bit too close, whether that was a Centaurs player or one of his own teammates. He yelled for the medics and kneeled by Luca’s side, speaking quietly to him as the medics maneuvered their way between the fights over to them. Luca was paralyzed on the ice but Ilya could see his lips moving as he responded to Shane. 

It made Ilya’s heart feel warm and he squeezed Shane a little tighter as a silent thank you for looking out for his rookie. Shane placed a soft kiss on his forehead in return. 

“Jesus!” Luca cringed as Comeau slumped down to the ice.

Shane covered his mouth as he snickered and Ilya grinned. He looked down at his own hand which was still bandaged from the medic. It would definitely hurt in the morning but it was worth it.

“I knew it was going to be bad but I didn’t know it was going to be that bad.” Luca admitted when the screen went black.

Ilya shrugged, “He had it coming.” 

The rest of the night was uneventful. Luca tucked into bed early after taking a couple Tylenol to ease his headache. Ilya reminded him that he would be in to wake him up periodically throughout the night and Shane agreed to help, in case Ilya was too tired to get up; he wouldn't be. Shane also went up to shower and do his skincare, which left Ilya alone in the kitchen, placing their empty mugs into the dishwasher.

Ilya took advantage of the moment alone and grabbed the pack of cigarettes that he kept hidden in the TV stand. He went outside to smoke for the first time in a while, knowing in the back of his mind that both Shane and Luca would disapprove. He just needed a minute to collect himself. 

He pulled the cigarette away from his lips and released a swirl of smoke into the cold night air. It was December in Ottawa and Ilya was surprised that they hadn't had snow yet. He loved it when it snowed, he thought made the greyness of Canadian winters a bit more bearable. It also helped with his seasonal depression, which he didn't think was a real thing when Galina first diagnosed him with it considering he was depressed even on the sunniest days at the cottage.

Ilya leaned against one of the stone pillars on the back patio and scuffed his boot across the seam where the cement met the grass. This would be gone soon, he thought to himself, as he took another drag of the cigarette. He liked the way it stung his throat and distracted him from the events of the evening. Still, it didn’t stop other thoughts from surfacing.

I will never fucking forgive you if you get lung cancer and die.

The intrusive thought sounded a lot like Shane. He had to remind himself that Shane was still inside, probably on the fourth step of his skincare routine at that point. 

I know, sweetheart.

He coo’d back to the image of Shane in his brain. There was a flash and he pictured Shane’s crumpled body on the ice, lying motionless, as he looked on helplessly. Ilya pressed the heel of his hand to his eye to physically wipe the memory away. Another flash, as if Ilya had scrolled to the next memory in his brain, and he saw Luca lying on the ice. He wasn’t motionless nor helpless, Shane was with him, but it hurt Ilya all the same. He wasn’t there when Ilya needed him most. Again.

You were taking care of him. You were fighting Comeau. 

A much more level-headed version of himself whispered. He wasn’t convinced.

He pressed the heel of his hand harder against his eye. Another flash. This time it was Comeau’s face, strangely mixed with the faintest image of his own brother, Alexei, as he punched him over and over again. Ilya hadn’t experienced such anger since the last time he saw Alexei at his father’s funeral. The last time he was in Russia. 

Ilya hadn’t had a reason to unleash his anger since that moment and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He never liked the fact that he’d inherited his father’s anger. Truthfully, he was scared that it would surface in a moment when he didn’t want it to; maybe in a disagreement with Shane or when Luca inevitably acted like a sassy teenager again. Ilya tried to be mindful of it, to only give into it when he was on the ice, and so far it had been fine; there were no triggers for it elsewhere but the thought of it still lingered in his mind. It terrified him. He didn’t want to be like this father.

The patio door slid open behind him and Ilya looked over his shoulder at the culprit. He took another lazy drag of his cigarette as Shane came outside; he was caught anyway, there was no pretending like he hadn’t been smoking just a moment before. Shane sighed as he hugged Ilya from behind. Ilya leaned into Shane’s warm touch as he traced his free hand up and down Shane’s arm.

“Are you okay?” Shane hummed. His tone was laced with concern, but Ilya didn’t sense any judgement for the cigarette that he was holding onto like a lifeline. Shane placed a soft kiss on the nape of Ilya’s neck. He dropped the cigarette and stamped it out with his shoe.

“Just needed a moment.” Ilya spun around and let Shane pull him into a tight hug. He knew he smelled like cigarettes, a smell that made Shane feel sick, and he wanted to go freshen up before bed. Instead, Shane pulled him into a kiss. It wasn’t hungry but it was firm. A reminder that Ilya was here, that he was safe, that his thoughts were just thoughts. A reminder that his thoughts couldn’t hurt him. Well...

Shane pulled away and pressed their foreheads together. They breathed in the cold air that surrounded them and Ilya noticed the goosebumps that started to creep up Shane’s arms.

“They were mad at me.” Shane’s voice was hoarse when he broke the silence. 

“What?” Ilya managed.

“My team. They were mad that I stayed by Luca, helped him off the ice.” Shane admitted.

A new anger flared inside of Ilya as he pulled away to study Shane’s face. 

He scoffed, “Fuck them.” 

Shane didn’t say anything. He wanted to say more but none of it would be helpful at that moment. Instead he just shook his head and wished he hadn’t stomped out his cigarette. 

“I don’t know if I can stay there.” Shane whispered.

Ilya wasn’t quite sure if he heard Shane correctly. He searched Shane’s face but instead of meeting his gaze, he stared straight past Ilya’s shoulder, out at the darkness of the backyard. His eyes were glazed over, thoughts clearly taking him elsewhere, as Ilya tried to ground him by rubbing Shane’s arms gently. 

“No?” Ilya asked. Shane just shook his head, still mesmerized. He admired Shane for a moment; the way his face was frozen like a statue while his eyes held so much emotion. When he realized that Shane had nothing more to say, he sighed. 

“Let’s go to bed, moya lyubov'.” 

Ilya ushered them back inside. 

///

Luca was out for at least a week and he hated every second of it. Not only could he not participate in practices or weight training, he wasn’t even allowed at the rink. Dr. Terry said something about how the bright lights and loud sounds could trigger his symptoms; which were mild, Luca always pointed out, right before he begrudgingly agreed to Terry's orders. He obliged when Terry said it would be best to stay in dimly lit rooms for the first few days just to reduce the chance of any aftershocks he might experience. No screens, no fast movements, just rest and relaxation. 

The first day wasn’t so bad. He spent a lot of time drawing and listening to a playlist that Sophia had made him. It was full of classical music and ambient sounds that were supposed to be good for your brain. When she woke up the morning after his incident to a bunch of texts from Ilya–-which did little to soothe her once she actually watched a clip of the incident–-she went into overdrive. Before school, she did a bunch of research on concussion recovery and sent Luca voice notes explaining what his next steps were. He wasn’t at all surprised when her recommendations matched Dr. Terry's own; she was a genius, after all. 

After the first day of relaxation, Luca started to feel restless. He tried his best to convince Ilya to bring him to practice. He would put on his best puppy dog eyes, the ones that were only magnified behind his glasses, but Ilya didn’t cave this time. There were a few flickers of hope, a twitch of his lip or a steadying breath as he stared into Luca’s big eyes, but he was steadfast. Luca suspected that he had spent too much time on the phone with Yuna who was also calling periodically to check-in on him. 

Ilya reluctantly let Eric and LaPointe come over one day after practice to check-in on him; they agreed to play Uno, which was to keep Luca’s thinking to a minimum, but they did get a stern talking to when they got a little too loud. Ilya said it wasn’t good for Luca’s concussion but Luca suspected that he was just getting annoyed by all of the laughing they were doing. It made him feel better nonetheless.

About 4 days after the concussion, the team played their first game without him. It had been announced on social media that he would be sitting out and apparently the fans had rallied online for him. Eric told him that there was even a hashtag going around, #WeLoveYouHaasy, which made Luca’s chest feel warm. Yuna recommended that he release a statement, just something to let the fans know that he was okay, and he did so with lots of support. Yuna was good at this, he realized, as he posted a photo Harris had taken of him a couple weeks earlier with the caption that she had drafted. He might need to take Ilya up on his offer to get him a proper agent–-not the one he had from back home–-to handle this side of his career. He pocketed that idea for later.

Luca wasn’t allowed to watch the Centaurs game that night, under strict orders from Ilya, Sophia, and Terry, but he did go over to the Hollander’s for dinner that night. They agreed to let him at least listen to the game, knowing that he must be chomping at the bit to get back on the ice.

“Rozanov passes it to Bood, who carries it up the right side of the ice and—ah, stopped by Sullivan.” The announcer's voice came from the TV. The volume was a bit quieter than what Luca was used to when he watched hockey, but he figured that was an intentional decision that David had made when he first turned the game on.

Yuna cursed under her breath as the Centaurs were dragged back to their defensive end yet again. It made Luca smile down at his bowl of ice cream. They somehow had his favourite flavour, mint chocolate chip, waiting for him as soon as dinner was done. 

“The synergy just isn’t there tonight.” David acknowledged. Luca watched as he leaned a bit further into his recliner from across the room. The lights from the TV reflected across his face, emphasizing the line that had taken shape between his eyebrows as the game went on.

They were playing Phoenix and losing 2-0. They weren't necessarily a bad team but they weren’t exactly good either. It confused Luca how they could be losing so bad as they neared the end of the third period. 

“Something’s going on with Ilya.” Yuna commented from her place beside Luca on the couch. Luca had suspected as much, based on the commentary, but he’d refrained from looking back at the screen after Yuna scolded him for doing so on a breakaway that Eric had in the second period.

“Might be my fault.” Luca offered weakly as he brought his spoon to his lips again. Yuna smiled sympathetically over at him and patted his leg over the blanket he had wrapped around him.

“I don’t know.” David tutted just as there was another turnover, “I think it might be something else.”

Luca couldn’t look at the screen to see what they were seeing of Ilya then, but he knew that if he could, he would be able to piece it together. They had a way of reading one another now that they hadn’t just a few months ago. Luca sighed as he settled further into the couch, pressing a hand to one of his eyes in an attempt to lull the headache that laid behind them.

“Are you in pain, sweetie?” Yuna asked. Luca hummed in agreement and she quickly went to get him some medicine. It made his heart flutter.

Luca had never experienced such care before. He took a moment to take in his surroundings; he was wrapped in a fluffy blanket in the Hollander’s living room with the fire crackling beside the TV as they all watched hockey together. He was nearly done with his bowl of his favourite ice cream, stomach already quite full from the warm soup that Yuna had researched and made from back home. It was all quite domestic–-safe, serene. He couldn’t remember anything like this from his childhood. It made him emotional to think about. He wasn't quite sure what he did to deserve this but he tried to push that thought aside as Yuna returned with a glass of water and ibuprofen. She exchanged them for Luca’s empty bowl as he smiled up at her. He fiddled with the pill bottle before Yuna gently took it back, opened it, and popped a couple ibuprofen into his hand. After he took it, she sat beside him again, tucking the blanket a little tighter under his legs. 

“Hopefully that’s better.” She smiled kindly at him. He smiled back at her and let his eyes fall to his lap again where they were previously avoiding the screen.

The final buzzer sounded and the Centaurs lost the game.

///

Ilya sighed as his head fell back against the headrest. He sat in darkness for a moment, staring up at the Hollander's front door, willing himself to go inside. His legs wouldn't move.

Ilya thought back on all of the bad passes and turnovers he'd caused during the game. His brain was foggy, something he could normally shake once his skates hit the ice during warm-ups, but today was different. He felt sluggish, not fully there, as his body skated around the ice that night without him. It was like he'd gone into autopilot. One moment he was standing on the ice for the national anthem and the next he was covered in sweat in the locker room after the game.

His eyes drifted over to the clock. 11:26pm. Fuck.

Ilya dragged himself out of the car and over to the front door where he knocked twice. It didn't take long for David to answer, a solemn smile on his face.

"Hey, buddy." David greeted him with open arms. Ilya fell into the hug, unable to muster up the energy to wrap his own arms around David. He didn't seem to mind though as he just held Ilya in the doorway for as long as he needed.

"That game sucked." He mumbled as he pulled away from the hug.

David sent him a tight-lipped smile, "It did."

Ilya chuckled and so did David. Yuna was standing at the top of the stairs, just watching them, a worried expression painted on her face.

"Luca's asleep." She said quietly. Ilya forced a smile up at her. He knew she could see right through it.

"It's been a lot for him." Ilya offered in response. She just nodded.

"You can crash here tonight if you want. There's fresh sheets on Shane's bed." She offered.

Ilya wanted to say no, to insist that they would head home, but he didn't have the energy to. He really just needed to be around family, so he shuffled off his shoes and trudged up the staircase. He let Yuna pull him into a warm hug and then he quickly checked on Luca, just confirming that he was, in fact, asleep on the couch. He looked so cozy with the blanket tucked up under his chin like that, so Ilya left him, and made his way to Shane's childhood bedroom. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep after that.

Chapter End Notes

I have just discovered who Fraser Minten is and he is now my head canon cast for Luca... anyways, hope that doesn't break your heart the way it broke mine writing this chapter haha

 

ALSO, I'm seeing some comments that I do not want to address directly bc I don't wanna spoil anything but please read the tags if you wanna know where some things are headed, okay? okay <3

 

UPDATE: I have posted Shane's POV of this chapter. It's called "Home Ice Advantage" and you can find it on my profile under the "Growing Outward Series".

Chapter 16: Recovery

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, December 2020

Luca’s concussion was taking longer to heal than he wanted it to, which meant he wasn’t headed to the airport with the rest of the team for their next road trip. The worst part about it? They were headed to some of the warmer states.

He’d had a few concussions in the past so he wasn't entirely surprised when he was sprawled out on the ice after Comeau hit him. He recognized the dizziness, the sensitivity to light, the feeling of a jack hammer pounding against his skull. He figured it would take a week of recovery and doctors appointments to get him fixed up but when one week turned into two, and a couple of missed games turned into six, he was starting to get a little frustrated. 

Slowly but surely he was starting to feel better. After a couple weeks, he could look at his phone for a longer amount of time before he got a headache and he didn’t experience nearly as much nausea as he did the first couple days. The tiredness, however, lingered. So did the sadness but Luca wasn’t quite sure if that was a side effect of the concussion or the fact that all of his teammates were in Florida without him. Dr. Terry seemed to think it could be a bit of both.

Luca had graduated from the light anaerobic workouts that the trainer had him doing and he was finally allowed back on the ice. That morning, Terry, Harris, and Chiron watched him skate around the ice from the players box. He tried to soak up every second of it, not taking any of it for granted, as he skated lazy laps around the empty rink. 

“Okay, take a couple shots on net and tell me how you feel.” Dr. Terry instructed. Luca did as he was told and took a couple slapshots on the net. He tried to exert himself just as he would during a game and while his body was a little stiff from the lack of movement these past couple weeks, nothing alarming happened in his body after he took the shots. There was a slight twinge in his sprained wrist but it was nothing that a little tape couldn't fix. It all felt normal.

“I feel fine.” He skated over to the bench. 

Harris was filming him, presumably for their fans, who were growing increasingly worried the longer Luca was on Injury Reserve; at least that's what Harris had told him when Luca got to the practice facility that morning. Eric was keeping him posted with his favourite #WeLoveYouHaasy tweets but he conveniently forgot to mention the viral video of him at practice earlier that week. It was a series of clips of Eric looking quite dazed on the ice with a sad song playing in the background. The caption said something about being lost without your other half; it was the first thing Harris showed Luca to cheer him up that morning when he arrived at the practice facility. He was right, it did make him laugh, and Luca made a mental note to make fun of Eric for it later on. 

“No dizziness? Feelings of numbness?” Terry reviewed his checklist of symptoms. Luca shook his head with each one. Terry sighed, “Well, if you’re still feeling good by tomorrow evening then maybe we could get you out to Arizona.”

A wide grin spread across Luca’s face but before he could celebrate, Terry raised a warning hand, “We start with no contact practices. If those go well then we do normal practices and then maybe–-and this is a strong maybe–-you can play some of the west coast games.”

“I’ll take it.” Luca didn’t care, he just wanted to be back on the ice with his team.

They watched Terry leave before Harris spoke up.

“Look at you, Buddy!” He beamed over at Luca, “I told you you’d be back on the ice in no time.”

It was true. Harris had been one of the most supportive people throughout Luca’s recovery, which is saying something considering everyone had been quite supportive. Harris was different, though, he just knew how to make people feel loved. He only agreed to stay back from this road trip because Luca wasn’t able to go; even though he’d been talking about Florida for months and how excited he was to be out in the sun. It only made Luca feel a little guilty before he realized just how much he appreciated being in Harris’ company with everyone else gone. The practice facility was a lot quieter when the guys weren’t here. Harris helped with that and so did Chiron, who was now chewing on Luca’s gloved finger as he tried to pet him from over the boards.

“Thanks, Harris.” Luca smiled down at Chiron.

They both watched the puppy for a bit in a content silence. He kept jumping up at the boards, trying to get closer to Luca's face, as Luca chuckled down at him. He loved having Chiron around and with all of the guys gone, he got undivided time with him. Luca suspected he might be one of Chiron's favourites but he would never tell Ilya that. It would crush him.

Harris clapped once as he stood from the bench, “I need your help with something.” 

Luca groaned, “Please tell me it isn’t another photo shoot.”

Harris smiled shyly over at him which made Luca groan even louder.

"I can't do it. No flash photography with my brain." Luca chuckled nervously. Even if he was right, he knew he wouldn't get out of it that easily.

"No problem, I'll turn the flash off!" Harris smiled as he called Chiron to follow him out of the rink. When he was just out of sight, he called back to Luca, “C'mon! It’ll take like 10 minutes.”

Luca begrudgingly got off the ice and quickly changed before he found Harris in his office. It didn't take long for Luca to realize why Chiron was actually there. He was standing in front of a Christmas tree, ugly sweater and Santa hat on, holding Chiron in his arms as they posed for photos. He couldn’t even be mad.

///

It was weird not having Luca on the road trip with them. At first, Ilya thought it might’ve just been him who was struggling but he quickly realized that the rest of the guys felt it too. Something was just off. Whether they were on the plane, the ice, or sitting at lunch, where they currently were, it didn’t feel right. There was a six foot sized hole that none of them could ignore. 

Ilya was distracted as Wyatt tried to explain the new Marvel trailer that had just been released. He kept checking his phone, hoping that Luca would text him with an update on how his check-up with Dr. Terry went that morning. He had yet to hear anything from the boy, which made him antsy. On top of that, everyone kept asking him for updates on Luca, which made him increasingly frustrated when he didn’t have a new answer for them. Wyatt seemed to pick up on this, hence the boring Marvel conversation, which the guys were easily distracted by. Well, everyone except for Eric, who spent more time texting on his phone than he did actually eating his food.

“Okay, kid. You gotta eat something.” Bood nudged Eric’s plate closer to him. 

Eric flushed as he put his phone face down on the table and took a couple bites of his chicken. As soon as his phone buzzed again he quickly picked it up and smiled down at it as his thumbs typed away.

“Who are you texting anyways?” Dykstra tried to lean over his shoulder to read his phone. Eric leaned away from him with a scowl.

“None of your business.” He retorted and stuffed another mouthful of food into his mouth.

“Food now, texting later.” Bood insisted. Eric rolled his eyes and quickly finished typing out his message before he tucked his phone away for good. That’s when Ilya got a call. 

“Luca!” Ilya greeted him happily. He stood up from the table to give them a bit of privacy. The guys all turned their attention towards him as he walked away from their conversation. 

“Hi Ilya.” Luca chuckled down the other end of the line, “Guess what?”

He could practically hear the smile on Luca’s face. He knew where this was going but he entertained the question anyway.

“What?” 

“I might have clearance to fly down to Arizona!” Luca chimed.

Ilya smiled wider, “That’s amazing, Luca! Congratulations.”

A part of Ilya felt relieved knowing that he would get to be with Luca in a short couple of days. He settled as Luca explained the next steps of his recovery, including physio and no-contact practices, while Ilya smiled over at the table. The guys seemed content with Ilya’s happiness so they let Wyatt continue with his Marvel lecture. 

“What are you up to?” Ilya sighed as he leaned back against a wall in the corner of the room.

“Oh, uh, y’know. Just drawing.” Luca said. Ilya knew it was a lie.

“Drawing?” Ilya asked warily.

“Yeah, just drawing.” Luca said it a bit more confidently this time. Ilya caught Eric’s eye from across the room. He quickly looked back at his plate when Ilya met his gaze and Ilya smirked to himself.

“Ah I see,” His eyes never left Eric as he took another bite of his food, “Well tell your drawing that he can’t be distracted for tonight's game.”

He could just picture the blush that rose Luca’s face. 

“I, uh–” Luca stammered.

“And you shouldn’t be looking at your phone that much. I don’t care what Dr. Terry says, better to be safe than sorry, no?” Ilya continued as if Luca hadn’t even said a word, “I will call you later ok?”

“Okay. Good luck tonight.” Luca conceded.

Ilya smiled to himself, “Thank you.”

When they finished with their lunch the guys all started to retreat to their rooms for their pre-game naps. Ilya took the opportunity to saddle up next to Eric on their way to the elevator. 

“If you’re going to talk to him then keep it to phone calls. He shouldn’t be looking at screens for very long.” Ilya said under his breath. Eric’s eyes widened as he looked sideways at his captain.

“Okay, yeah for sure.” Eric cleared his throat.

Ilya just chuckled to himself as he made his way back to his hotel room to call Shane. 

Kids.

///

“And then he blew him a kiss!” Eric fell into a fit of giggles over the phone. 

Luca’s face started to hurt with how much he was smiling. As soon as Eric got back to the hotel, he called Luca and recounted the game minute by minute for him. Even though he’d watched their game, which they managed to win 2-1, it wasn’t the same experience as having been on the ice. Getting to hear about all of the little things that happened in between commercial breaks–-the chirping on the ice, the locker room conversations–-was much more entertaining.

“He’s ridiculous,” Luca sighed as he fell back against his pillows, “He’s just lucky people are scared of him or else he’d get punched out for that.”

“That’s Roz for ya.” Eric chuckled, “Anyways, how are you feeling?”

Luca always hated this question. The guys meant well but it seemed like the only thing they could talk to him about since his accident was the status of his health. If he liked a post on Instagram and one of the guys caught him, they’d immediately text him to get off his phone. If there was a conversation going on in the group chat that he sent a quick reply to, they would automatically ask him how his headaches were. Ilya would even come home from practice with new questions or suggestions from the guys on how to tame the aftershocks he was experiencing. He knew they meant well but it still sucked. 

To be fair to Eric, at least, he always waited until later on in the call to get to this question. They’d been talking everyday since the injury, which wasn’t much of a change from their lives beforehand, but it made Luca feel better all the same. He just liked that someone didn’t look at him like he was fragile.

Luca must’ve groaned or something because Eric snorted on the other end of the line.

“I know, I know. But I would be a shitty friend if I didn’t ask.” Eric chuckled. 

Luca rolled his eyes even though Eric couldn't see him. Eric insisted on a phone call that night, citing the fact that the extra screen time at the end of the day was bad for Luca; he also said something about blue light before bed and how that was bad for Eric, too, when Luca tried to protest. He’d never been worried about blue light in all of the previous times they’d shared a hotel room. Luca was also pretty sure he could hear a Disney movie playing in the background, Mulan maybe, which he tried not to take personally seeing as he wanted to watch that next.

“I’m feeling fine. Dr. Terry says I’m healing normally,” Luca finally offered, “Hey, is that Mulan in the background?”

There was some shuffling on the other end of the line as Luca successfully distracted Eric from the concussion pillow talk. The volume of the movie, which was most definitely Mulan, was quieter when Eric spoke again.

“No.” His voice cracked. Luca gasped dramatically as Eric fell into another fit of giggles.

“You said you would wait for me!” Luca exclaimed. 

“I know, I know. But I was listening to Reflection before the game today and I just couldn’t get it out of my head.” Eric reasoned.

Luca’s heart fluttered at the idea of Eric listening to Disney music at the rink. Sometimes they’d share earbuds during practices, when they didn’t really have to pay attention, and it made it all the more fun; especially when he could see Eric shimmying at the other end of the rink to Bop to the Top. The guys always made fun of them for it. Luca excused it as jealousy.

“Okay well as long as you promise to watch it again when I get to Arizona.” Luca countered.

“I promise.” Eric sounded earnest.

Luca smiled to himself as he played with the strings of his hoodie. He could just picture Eric laying in his hotel room–-by himself, since he refused to room with anyone other than Luca–-a half-empty plate of chocolate chip cookies beside him on the table. It was probably cold in the room, just the way Luca liked it, and one of the beds would be empty waiting for him, even though he would never arrive. His heart panged.

“I wish I was there.” Luca said quietly after a comfortable moment of silence.

“I know, me too.” Eric said solemnly. There was some more shuffling before he continued, much happier, “But we’ll see you in a couple days!”

Luca hummed noncommittally.

They just had one more game against Tampa Bay before the team flew out to Arizona, where Luca and Harris would meet them. He was grateful to have a travel buddy for the long flight especially since he was a bit worried about the symptoms that might pop up with the altitude change. He felt a bit comforted knowing that Harris would take care of him; he’d probably have more funny TikToks to show him before the flight took off.

“Oh!” Luca broke their silence again, “You forgot to tell me about that video of yours that went viral.”

“Video?” Eric’s voice pitched up. He cleared his throat.

“Yeah, the TikTok of you at practice looking absolutely depressed without me there.” Luca replied cheekily. Eric chuckled on the other end of the phone.

“Oh? I must’ve missed that.” 

Luca hummed, “Right, I’m sure you missed that one.” 

Eric chuckled and so did Luca. Eric was unabashedly chronically online. He always knew what the latest trend was, sometimes before it even became a trend, and it made Luca’s head spin. Luca wasn’t the biggest social media guy himself but he begrudgingly agreed to film a couple TikToks with Eric during training camp. Once the Yaas fandom took off though, Luca refused to do anymore social media appearances outside of the Centaurs pages. Sometimes Eric would take sneaky selfies of Luca–-asleep on the bus or drawing in a corner somewhere–-and post them to his story. It just made Luca roll his eyes and insist that Eric was a stalker. Biggest fan, Eric always corrected him. It made Luca blush either way.

“It was the Mulan soundtrack. It really got me sad for a second there.” Eric countered.

“Right,” Luca chuckled, “It is a sad movie.” 

It really wasn’t, it’s one of Eric’s favourites, and Luca knew this. Eric didn’t give up though.

“It is! They’re in love and they can’t even express it properly until she reveals she’s a girl.” Eric argued. 

They both went silent. It felt like the air was sucked out of the room. 

Luca cleared his throat, “They do end up together though.”

He was talking about the movie but there was a heaviness to his statement that seemed to weigh on Eric, who chuckled nervously as he tried to change the subject.

“Anyways, you know how those TikTok editors are.”  

They did, in fact, know how those TikTok editors were but they never talked about it. The Yaas shippers were a dedicated group and even with Harris pulling back on the Centaurs socials, the fans still had a way to get their hands on random photos and clips to piece together for their very own narrative online. 

What Luca at first found endearing quickly became overwhelming as his own feelings for his best friend developed. It was a lot. He had to focus on his game and his life all while trying not to show too much when the cameras were rolling. Unfortunately for them, the cameras were always rolling, so much so that Luca often forgot they were even there. That’s how that clip of Luca beckoning Eric over with a simple flick of his fingers and knowing smile went viral from their pre-game warm-up against Montreal. It got buried for a second after Luca got injured but it had quickly resurfaced in Luca’s absence to provide more content. 

Luca was just glad he couldn’t be on his phone much so that he had an excuse not to watch the edits over and over again. Sometimes, if he let himself go there, he could easily be sucked in by the way that Eric looked at him. Or the way that Eric would do whatever Luca asked him to. The fans were really running with the narrative that he ran a tight ship, which maybe wasn’t too far off, as he watched some of the clips back. It made him smile. It also confused him.

“Well, I thought it was nice.” There was a new air of confidence about Luca as he continued, “You don’t know what to do without me. It’s okay, you can admit it.”

Eric chuckled, “Whatever, Haasy.”

Eric tried to stifle a yawn over the phone as Luca looked over at the time. It was past midnight and Eric had just played a hard fought game.

“Time for bed?” Luca sighed. 

He really didn’t want to hang up but they’d already been talking for over an hour and Eric really needed his sleep, even if he protested.

“I think so.” Eric admitted sleepily.

“Okay well I’ll text you tomorrow.” Luca said.

“Not if I text you first.” Eric quickly rebutted.

“You’re a weirdo.” 

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” 

Luca grinned to himself.

“Goodnight, Eric.”

“Goodnight, Haasy.”

///

Luca’s trip to Arizona was fairly uneventful. Harris had snapped a photo of him at the airport to show the fans that he was doing well; he wouldn’t post it until they landed, for safety reasons, but it made Luca feel better knowing that there was some permanence to him flying across the continent. They weren’t just going for fun but with the intention of Luca getting back on the ice; he had yet to let that sink in just in case it didn’t happen. He didn't want to get his hopes up.

Luca slept on Harris’ shoulder for most of the flight and only woke up to take some pills when his head started to hurt. The second time he woke up was when Harris had nudged him. He was holding out a cup of tea to him, which Luca happily sipped on as he looked out the window. 

Now they were in the hotel lobby waiting for their room keys, Harris drumming his fingers nervously on the counter as he dealt with the adult stuff. Luca just looked around the lobby, appreciating the sunlight that seemed to disappear in Ottawa since December started. There was a loud commotion behind them. Luca spun around, a bit too fast for his brain to catch up, and he was quickly enveloped in a big hug. He immediately knew it was Ilya.

“Hi, Ilya.” Luca chuckled breathlessly as he wrapped his arms around Ilya’s waist. 

“I missed you.” Ilya smiled as he pulled away, looking him over once to make sure he was all in one piece, nothing missing.

“Don’t worry, Ilya, I got him here safely.” Harris chuckled from where he was standing beside them. Troy had just released him from a big hug as well. Luca raised his eyebrows at the pair who simply ignored him as they looked over at Ilya.

“Thank you, Harris.” Ilya hugged Harris as well. That’s when Luca realized Eric was standing behind Ilya, a big smile on his face, as he tried to catch his breath. 

“He beat me to it.” Eric chuckled as he gestured to Ilya. They must’ve raced from the elevators to greet them, Ilya showing no mercy as he crashed into Luca.

“Hi Eric.” Luca smiled.

Eric didn’t hesitate to pull Luca into a big hug; one that was much more careful than Ilya’s. Luca was only stiff for a second before he let himself melt into the embrace. He needed this.

“Did you have a good flight? Watch any movies?” Eric asked as he pulled away, leaving one of his hands on Luca’s back. Luca gripped the handle of his suitcase again, not quite sure what to do with his hands.

“Are you kidding? This guy slept the whole way. I have drool stains on my shoulder to prove it.” Harris snorted as he pinched the fabric of his sweater. Luca flushed as they all laughed.

“Here’s your room keys. You’re all set.” The hotel worker slid the two cards across the desk towards them. Eric quickly leaned over and grabbed Luca’s.

“You don’t need this, you’re rooming with me.” Eric decided as he started walking towards the elevators, dragging Luca’s suitcase behind him. 

Luca’s eyes widened as he sheepishly looked over at Ilya, Troy and Harris. They all grinned at him knowingly. His face felt warm all of a sudden.

“C’mon, let's go.” Eric called over, one arm holding the elevator door open as he waited for Luca. 

“Well, don’t keep him waiting.” Ilya grinned. Troy snickered and Harris just smiled over at Eric who was growing impatient by the elevator doors.

“Shut up.” Luca mumbled before he quickly followed Eric.

///

"Do either of you know what's going on there?" Harris asked as they watched the elevator doors shut behind Luca and Eric.

"Probably nothing." Troy shrugged. He wasn't one to gossip but he also wasn't stupid.

"Ilya?" Harris urged.

Ilya sighed, "Whatever it is, I hope it ends well."

The three of them walked over to the elevators and got inside. Ilya pressed the button for his floor and then Troy for his, but Harris just rocked back and forth on his heels. Ilya raised his eyebrows up at the pair. Harris just smiled sheepishly while Troy averted his gaze to his feet, shuffling awkwardly on the other side of the elevator.

Ilya snickered just as the doors opened to his floor.

"Well, have fun." He grinned.

"Shut up." They said in unison as the doors closed behind him. He chuckled all the way back to his own room.

Chapter End Notes

I think the #1 comment I get on this fic is some derivative of “poor Luca” so my goal with this chapter was to not get that comment… lets see how I did hahaha

Chapter 17: Surprise

Chapter Notes

Vegas, December 2020

Luca woke up early on his birthday to a call from Sophia. He managed to slip out of the shared room with Eric and down the hall to an empty stairwell before he accepted the call. He smiled sleepily at his sister as she sang to him over facetime. Then she excitedly asked what he had planned for the day. He made something up. 

The truth was that he hadn’t told anyone about his birthday. He didn’t want to make a big fuss about it. The Centaurs were in Vegas, almost halfway through their road trip, and it was starting to take a toll on the guys. Dr. Terry still hadn’t cleared him for games but he was allowed back at practices so long as he wore that stupid orange jersey.

The fact that it was his birthday was an afterthought, as far as Luca was concerned. He really just wanted to get clearance to play again. He didn’t want the added stress that came with celebrating his birthday; besides, having your twentieth birthday in Vegas wasn't that fun anyways, he tried to remind himself. He suspected that Ilya might disagree. He'd likely be mad at Luca when he eventually found out, but that was a problem for future Luca, not present Luca, as he trudged back down the hallway to his room. He fell back into his bed and was grateful that they had an afternoon practice as he slept in a bit longer.

The room was empty when he woke for a second time that morning. He reached over to grab his glasses and pushed them up his nose before squinting at his phone. There were a bunch of texts from his friends back home and even an email from his parents–-probably one of their executive assistants, he thought to himself–-but he ignored them all in favour of Eric’s.

Eric: Gone to Starbucks. I’ll grab you a tea?

Luca groaned as he looked at the time. Their team lunch was fast approaching, after which they would be bussed over to a local arena for practice. He forced himself out of bed and into the shower to get ready for the day.

///

“I want to see the defensive powerplay one more time. Let’s run it from the top!” Coach Wiebe called out as the guys lazily skated around the ice. 

The practice was going well as Ilya set himself up for another face-off against Young. So far none of the guys had said anything suspicious to Luca and Luca still hadn’t said a word about his birthday. Ilya wanted to curse at him in the Russian swear words they’d been practicing together but that would reveal that he knew what today was and he had to hold out a little longer. He was just grateful to his past self for checking in with the admin team about when Luca’s birthday was. Originally, it was for safety reasons–-his duty as an unofficial guardian to the rookie–-but secretly it was because Ilya loved celebrating people’s birthdays. Well, everyone’s but his own.

When the puck dropped, Ilya was surprised when Young won it and he quickly got into position to defend. Young was doing a lot better recently; not that he was ever bad, but Ilya had started to notice that he was winning more face-offs, making cleaner passes, finding ways to get under Ilya’s skin during drills in a way that he’d never done before. It was nice. It gave Ilya something to work with.

Young slapped the puck into the net, just barely grazing Ilya’s calf as he tried to defend it, and Young immediately skated over to Luca on the bench. Luca was hard to miss as he was wearing one of those bright orange practice jerseys; it reminded everyone else on the ice not to go too hard on him as he was still healing, as if they could forget what happened a few weeks ago. Young smiled wide at Luca as he fist bumped him and gave him a few pointers for what he could’ve done differently. Young hung onto every one of Luca’s words as he gestured around the ice. It made Ilya smile.

They pushed through the end of their practice and Coach Wiebe excused them with a threat to not miss curfew that night. Ilya stiffened at the warning and looked sideways at Luca who was none the wiser. He supposed that Wiebe said this often when they were on the road. He needed to calm down, it was going to go well--he just needed everyone to play their role. He trusted that they would.

///

“Haasy, do you wanna grab dinner tonight?” Eric asked Luca once they were in the locker room. It was an odd suggestion seeing as they had a game the next day, and dinner was always arranged by the team, but Luca was looking for excuses to enjoy the warmer weather so he entertained the idea. 

“Yeah sure, do you have a place in mind?” He fumbled with his t-shirt and pulled it over his head.

“I saw this one burger place on TikTok we could check out.” Eric shrugged.

“Works for me. Do you want to go now?” Luca suggested.

“No.” Eric snapped. Luca glanced sideways at him before he quickly added, “I’m a bit tired. Maybe we could go in a couple hours?”

Luca supposed that gave him enough time to go up to the rooftop pool and draw, which is all he really wanted to do while they were still somewhere warm, so he simply agreed. 

When they were in the Uber later that night, Luca couldn’t help but feel the anxious energy in the car. LaPointe had agreed to join them and he sat in the passenger seat, talking away to the driver who had long stopped responding. It was something he often did when he was nervous ahead of big games; the admin ended up putting him in a stall beside Troy who would have no problem telling him to shut up when he’d reached his breaking point. Beside him in the Uber, Eric had been eyeing his Apple Watch every few minutes and swiping away the texts that kept popping up. Luca tried not to think too much about it as they pulled up to the restaurant. 

“Uh, are we in the right place?” He asked no one in particular as he got out of the car and looked up at the restaurant. It looked like an expensive steakhouse. 

“I think so.” Eric couldn’t tame the grin that came to his face. 

“Eric.” He warned.

“Just, c’mon.” He grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. After giving his eyes a second to adjust to the darkness, he realized what was happening. He was suddenly grateful that Eric had forced him to change out of his poolside clothes.

“Happy Birthday!” 

The sheer sound of everybody made him jump back a bit as he was welcomed into the restaurant by the whole Centaurs team and staff. There were birthday decorations hung up around the empty restaurant and those large balloons, a big 2 and 0, that he’d watched his sister and her friends take photos with every year. The guys were all wearing party hats which made Luca feel a bit embarrassed just as Bood came over to snap one on him as well. He was pulled into hugs by each of the guys until he saw Ilya at the back of the pack. 

“You did this, didn’t you?” Luca pointed at him accusingly. He couldn’t stop the bright smile that came to his face as Ilya pulled him into a big hug.

“How did you even know?” He asked the larger group once they’d pulled apart. They all turned to Ilya with knowing smiles.

“Well I had to ask admin because somebody didn’t tell me themselves.” Ilya poked Luca’s ribs. He blushed sheepishly. 

They took a large group photo, at Harris’ request, for their Instagram. Troy forced him to be in it as well and the waitress took over from there. They took some normal ones and then another where Luca laid across a handful of his teammates arms as they all beamed at the camera. 

They sat at a long table and enjoyed the best steak dinner that Luca had ever had. As the plates were being cleared, Bood suggested that they go around and share one wish that they had for Luca’s twentieth year. When Luca tried to dismiss the suggestion, Bood insisted it was a Centaurs tradition, which Luca didn't quite believe considering they hadn't done that at any of the other guys' birthdays they'd celebrated together. He just sighed and tried his hardest not to blush at some of his teammates' sentiments.

“I hope that you get the Calder this year!” Wyatt piped up happily from his side. Luca felt the back of his neck grow warm at the suggestion; it was something he’d dreamed about his whole life but never thought would happen. He tried to protest but Wyatt shushed him.

“This game only works if you receive people’s wishes with open arms.” Bood insisted. Luca couldn’t quite tell if he was joking or not but he shut up anyways.

“I hope that this year brings you so many brand deals that you don’t even know what to do with them all.” Dykstra joked. All of the guys laughed, including Luca, who was already in talks with Ilya’s agent, Farah, about what his next few months would look like.

The birthday wishes continued around the table and Luca slowly realized just how much his teammates knew him--understood him. Some of the wishes were light-hearted, like the one where fans would make more TikTok edits of him to Lady Gaga, while others were more heartfelt. Luca’s blush had yet to leave his face and he had to blink back a few tears every now and then at what some of the guys were saying. By the time it got to Ilya, he could tell that the emotions were getting to him as well.

“I just hope that you get everything you ever wanted because if anyone deserves it, it's you.” Ilya said earnestly, never taking his eyes off the boy. Luca sent him a tight-lipped smile, averting his eyes down to his lap, so that he wouldn’t cry. The guys around them all murmured in agreement and Luca thanked them all, then joked about how they were making his head hurt with all of the focussing he was doing. Dr. Terry wouldn't approve, he chuckled nervously, as the guys all teased him for being sensitive. He was and he knew the guys loved that about him too.

A little while later, after they sang him happy birthday and ate cake, Ilya placed an envelope in front of Luca. 

“Just open it.” Ilya insisted from across the table. He slid the card back over to Luca, who had attempted to push it back, and he picked it up with a joking glare.

The guys watched him open the envelope clumsily. The card was one that you might buy for a little boy, with teddy bears and brightly coloured balloons on the front. Luca’s suspicions were only confirmed when he saw that Ilya had drawn in the “0” with a black sharpie on the front of the card meant for a two year-old. He rolled his eyes and opened the card, a folded piece of paper fell out. He ignored it for a moment and read the note. His heart fluttered at the clear attempt to write it in his native language.

 

Luca,

Joyeux anniversaire ! 

Je suis si heureux de t'avoir à mes côtés. Merci d'égayer mes journées.

Je te souhaite le meilleur pour l'année à venir.

Continuez à marquer des buts :)

Ilya 

Luca’s eyes watered as he smiled appreciatively up at Ilya. He was already grinning back at him.

"Now open the paper." Ilya said giddily.

He was practically bursting at the seams with excitement which made Luca chuckle. He reached for the piece of paper that had fallen into his lap and carefully unfolded it. Luca blinked a few times to make sure he was reading it right. It was a round trip ticket from Zurich to Ottawa, dated for later that month, around Christmastime. 

“Wait,” His heart stopped, “Ilya, you can’t. I don’t even have time. We have like 3 days off.” He was rambling then and Eric carefully took the paper from him to read it over. The rest of the guys were impatiently asking what it was but Luca and Ilya just stared silently at one another. Luca, with his lips parted slightly in shock, Ilya with a knowing grin plastered across his face. 

“Read it again.” Ilya instructed.

Luca leaned over Eric's shoulder to read it again, his eyebrows furrowing together in concentration. He was pretty sure he’d read it right. Then it hit him.

“Wait. Is it for..?” 

He pushed his chair away from the table abruptly. Both of his hands were wrapped around Eric’s forearm to curb his excitement, which Eric just smiled cheesily over at him for, as he seemed to come to the same realization that Luca had.

“Sophia,” Ilya confirmed, “I’ve already arranged it with your family.” 

Luca jumped up and ran around the table, directly into Ilya's arms. He almost knocked them both over with the force of their bodies colliding but Ilya just laughed and held onto him tightly. 

“Who’s Sophia?” Dykstra whispered at the table behind them.

Some of the guys filled Dykstra in--teasing him for not paying attention to the many times that Luca had bragged about his little sister--but Luca paid them no mind, he simply held onto Ilya tighter. He had no clue what he'd done to deserve this. Honestly, he thought he might be dreaming, but Ilya's touch grounded him in reality. Ilya rubbed a reassuring hand up and down Luca's back as he wiped a few tears that had spilled over in the excitement. It was real. Sophia was coming to Canada. 

Later on, after they finished with the birthday celebrations, Ilya laughed in Luca’s face when he tried to pay for the dinner. Wyatt wrangled him into a big hug when he tried to lunge across the table to grab the cheque. Luca hadn’t realized until that moment just how strong their goalie was. 

When they returned to their hotel rooms–-a few minutes before curfew, to appease Coach Wiebe–-Luca tried to respond to all of the birthday wishes he’d received throughout the day. He texted his friends back, responded to his parents’ email with a short thank you, and jokingly accused Sophia of lying to him. He knew he wouldn't hear back from her until morning so he moved over to social media.

Ilya had posted a photo on Instagram from their first media day together. He wrote a sappy caption about how his baby was growing up. Luca rolled his eyes as he commented something snarky about Ilya getting old too. He tried not to smile too wide when he saw Eric’s story; it was a photo from their first MLH game in Ottawa, when they were doing their rookie skate ahead of warm-ups. LaPointe was there too, obviously, but Eric had opted for a photo of just the two of them, smiling like little kids on Christmas morning as they looked at one another. He’d put cartoon party hats on their heads and it made Luca smile as he liked the story. He ignored the buzz from Eric’s phone on the bedside table beside him.

Then there was the Centaurs Instagram page. Harris had opted for a carousel, which included a video of the team surprising him at the restaurant; only a few fans pointed out the way that Eric had been holding his hand as they walked in, although those comments had hundreds of likes. He ignored the butterflies in his stomach and reposted one of the group photos to his story with a simple thank you message. Just as he was about to fall asleep, he got one final text.

Shane: Joyeux anniversaire, Luca! Can’t wait to celebrate when I see you next 😄 

Luca smiled to himself.

Luca: Thanks, Shane! And thanks for helping Ilya write that card 😂😂

Shane: I have no clue what you’re talking about

Shane: 😉

///

Luca skated back to the bench with a huff as one of their equipment managers passed him a towel. He wiped his face, eyes transfixed on the ice, where their second line was maintaining control in the offensive end.

Eric slapped his stick against the ice as he screened San Jose’s goalie. Holmberg passed it to him quickly. He spun around and flicked it into the net off the back of his blade with ease. It happened so fast Luca almost hadn’t registered what happened. Then the whole bench was on their feet and cheering as Eric was surrounded by his linemates on the ice. When they broke apart he found the nearest camera, pointed to it and winked, before he skated back over to the bench. Luca probably had the biggest smile on his face as Eric fist bumped each of them.

On the next line change, Eric shuffled down the bench so that he could sit beside Luca. Troy scooched over to make room for him, something that the guys had become accustomed to with the two rookies. 

“Nice goal, Eric!” Luca smiled at Eric as he slumped down beside him.

“Thanks, Haasy.” He grinned out of the side of his mouth as he squeezed water into it. Luca averted his eyes.

“Who were you winking at?” Holmberg asked from a few men down the bench, leaning his forearms against the boards to get a better look at Eric. He was smiling shyly.

“No one.” Eric chuckled nervously.

“Oh, c’mon.” Troy shoved his shoulder which Eric quickly swatted away. Luca tried his best to pay attention to their third line as the puck was passed around in their defensive end. His eyes were glazed over as he listened carefully to Eric’s next words.

“Just my girlfriend.”

Luca’s heart dropped to his stomach.

There it was, the three words he was terrified to hear from his best friend, spoken so freely now. The guys nearest them on the bench teased Eric but Luca stared straight ahead. Eric hadn’t even had the guts to tell him alone; not in between practice drills, not on their long plane rides, not even in their hotel room when they were staying up late to watch Disney movies together. Not even the night before, when they’d both fallen asleep on Luca’s bed, while Mulan continued to play in the background.

“Might have to get another goal for her then.” Holmberg teased. 

Luca’s jaw clenched at the thought. He silently hoped that Eric didn't score any more goals that night. 

When Luca got back out on the ice, he wasn’t himself. He completely forgot all about Dr. Terry's requests for him to take it easy, to do small check-ins with himself every now and then in case his brain went fuzzy. It was his first game back and while he had clearance, it was still best to play it safe. Instead, Luca saw red. It didn’t take long for him to score a goal, and then another, which sent their bench into a frenzy. 

“What the heck got into you tonight, Haasy?” Bood joked when they were back in the locker room after the game.

“Seriously, it’s like a monster was unleashed in you.” Chouinard called over. 

There were murmurs of agreement from the other guys, who were still drunk off of their win against San Jose, 3-0. Luca ignored them as he stripped off his gear and trudged over to the showers. Ilya stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked in a hushed tone. He met Ilya’s soft eyes, which were attempting to search his own, but Luca didn’t offer much.

“Nothing.” He grumbled.

He pushed past Ilya and made his way towards the showers again, hoping that it would help him to forget what he’d heard on the bench earlier that night. It didn’t. 

The bus ride back to the hotel was tense. Luca sat alone, earbuds stuffed in his ears, forehead pressed against the cool window. He pretended not to hear LaPointe’s attempts to chat with him from across the aisle–-he’d clearly picked up on Luca’s negative energy–-and when they got back to the hotel, he quickly went back to his hotel room before anyone could ask him to go to a bar. He turned his phone off when Ilya kept texting him and pretended to be asleep when Eric slipped into the hotel room past curfew. It didn’t take long for Eric’s soft snores to fill the silence of the room. 

A single tear escaped Luca’s eye. He quickly brushed it away and tried his best to settle his thoughts.

It didn't work. He didn't sleep that night. 

///

“Can you think of anything that happened before he went off in the game?” Shane asked. Ilya sighed into the phone as he tried to recall the events of the night.

“Not that I can think of. Young scored and then they were on the bench together,” He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping it would jog his memory, “They were talking about his celebration. He winked at the camera, I think, and then…wait.”

His eyes popped open. 

“Wait, what?” Shane prompted.

“Eric has a girlfriend.” Ilya said, mainly to himself.

“So?” Shane was clearly confused.

“Our Luca has a crush on Eric.” Ilya let his head fall back against the headboard. Fuck.

“Luca has a crush on Eric and you’re just now telling me?” Shane whisper-yelled into the phone. He was taking the call from his hotel room in Colorado, while Hayden was in the shower, and Ilya appreciated the caution he was taking with the topic.

“Well it was a secret. I wasn’t going to tell you something that Luca told me in confidence.” Ilya defended himself.

“That didn’t stop you from telling me he was demisexual.” Shane argued, still whispering into the phone. 

He had a point there.

“Da well, that's different. I figured you could help.” Ilya shrugged even though Shane couldn’t see him.

Shane sighed from the other end of the phone, “Poor Luca.”

Ilya nodded. Poor Luca, indeed. 

“Are you going to talk to him about it?” Shane asked.

“I don’t know.” His eyes trailed over to the alarm clock. It was already late. He hoped that Luca was asleep by now, “Should I?”

“I don’t know.” Shane admitted.

Great. 

They were both out of their depth when it came to parenting; Shane probably more so than Ilya, but that was only because Ilya was the stay-at-home mom, so to speak. Shane didn’t like it when Ilya made those kinds of jokes. He obviously wanted to be there more, which Ilya understood, but it didn’t stop him from joking that Shane was the dad who was always travelling for work. He could just imagine the way that Shane would roll his eyes at that.

“Do you think I should encourage Luca to look elsewhere?” Ilya’s voice was tired. He raked a hand through his damp hair. 

“I don’t know if that’s something you can do,” Shane wagered, “It’s going to have to run its course, if anything.”

“I feel sort of responsible for all of this.” Ilya admitted feebly.

“What? Why?” Shane asked.

“Well because Luca wanted my opinion on whether Eric was straight–” Ilya started.

“Ilya!”

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He defended himself, “But I mean, c’mon. That kid is not straight.”

“Even if you are right–”

“I am always right about this.” Ilya cut him off.

“Even if you are right,” Shane repeated himself, “That doesn’t change the fact that he has a girlfriend. He isn’t into Luca like that, you shouldn’t get his hopes up.”

A wave of guilt crashed over him. He sighed.

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” Ilya decided.

“Please do.” Shane insisted. There was some shuffling on the other end of the line, “It’s hard enough being closetted. It’s a whole other agony to have a crush on a man who you know you can never be with.” 

There was an edge to Shane’s words that Ilya picked up on immediately. They fell into a silence as Ilya thought back on their own relationship. He had made it so hard for Shane in the beginning, what with his own confusion and inability to let himself have what he so desperately wanted. He felt guilty about that a lot, even if they were fine now, he hated how their relationship had taken so long to blossom into what it was today. 

“Ya tebya lyublyu.” Ilya whispered. It was all he could do with them so far apart.

Shane’s response was immediate, “I love you too.”

Chapter End Notes

Ik Ik, but please trust me <3

Also my fav comment on this fic by far is "I started reading for cute father figure Ilya and stayed bc Ilya's gay son has boy drama" and that feels so fitting for this chapter hahaha

Chapter 18: Off Day

Chapter Notes

Los Angeles, December 2020

When their day off finally rolled around, Luca was cursing himself for booking his first ever podcast appearance. It was arranged just over a month ago, before Luca suffered his concussion, when Ilya’s former teammates reached out about having him on their show, Talkin' Pucks. He was really looking forward to it but that was before the events of the San Jose game--before everything went to shit.

He woke up early that morning, after another rough night's sleep, and quickly showered before Eric woke up. Eric was a heavy sleeper but Luca padded around their room silently anyways, getting all of his things together for the day. He really didn’t want to talk to Eric before the podcast. He didn’t want to talk to him at all.

When he finally snuck out of the room and down the hallway to the elevator, he pressed the button impatiently. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and finally scrolled through his notifications for the first time since their game in San Jose. There were a bunch of texts from Ilya, which he ignored, as well as some texts from Yuna and David praising him for his first game back. Sophia had sent so many messages, on both instagram and iMessage, screaming at him from across the ocean about how good he played and also why he wasn't answering her. He simply sent her a red heart emoji before he stuffed his phone back into his pocket. He didn't have the energy to deal with any of that right now.

The elevator doors slid open and Ilya was there, about to step out into the hallway, when he saw Luca. Ilya deflated at the sight of him; he probably looked just about as good as he felt at that moment, which is to say, like absolute shit. He tugged his hoodie a little tighter around his head as Ilya sent him a sad smile and stepped back into the elevator.

“Come on, mishutka.” Ilya sighed.

Luca trudged into the elevator and slumped against the wall as Ilya pressed the button for the lobby. They fell into a comfortable silence all the way through the hotel and out into the sunny morning. The warm weather only brought Luca so much comfort as he followed Ilya down the street. They managed to find a breakfast restaurant nearby and got a seat in a private corner of the patio. Luca didn’t even bother to look at the menu. He wasn’t hungry. Ilya ordered for both of them anyways.

“You're worrying me, Luca.” Ilya said once the waitress had delivered their drinks and gone back into the restaurant. 

Luca tore open the tea bag and unravelled it into the tea pot. Luca looked everywhere but at Ilya as his heart rate picked up and his stomach turned over. After their game against San Jose, Luca hadn't slept. He went to their team breakfast the next morning, then their team meeting where they reviewed tape from the night before, and then they flew down to Los Angeles. Luca was quiet throughout all of it, even as he sat beside Ilya on the flight to Los Angeles. When Eric got on the plane and he saw them, he short-circuited for a moment, but Luca didn't care. They hadn't talked since the San Jose game, just co-existed in an uncomfortable silence, which Luca preferred. He wasn't sure if any of the guys had picked up on Luca's sudden change in demeanour--maybe they excused it as part of his concussion recovery--but clearly Ilya had, as he stared across the table at him. 

“Eric has a girlfriend.” Luca eventually mumbled. He figured there was no point in protesting, Ilya would just keep asking until Luca gave in anyways. It saved them both a lot of time to cut right to the chase.

“I’m sorry, Luca.” Ilya sighed. His lips were pulled tightly together, contemplative almost, as he watched Luca’s every movement. Luca poured himself a cup of tea and after seeing that it was weaker than he wanted it to be, he slouched over in frustration. 

“Luca–” Ilya’s tone was gentle but it made something in him snap.

“It’s just so fucking stupid.” He exclaimed suddenly, finally meeting Ilya’s eyes as all of his emotions poured out of him, “My best friend is dating someone, which shouldn’t even be a big deal because he’s literally just my best friend. My stupid brain is still foggy and tired, but I can’t even sleep, so that doesn’t make sense. Farrah is sending me all of this paperwork and it’s stressing me out. I have to do this fucking podcast today, which I don’t even know how I’m going to do because I feel like shit. And I just want to be at home, in my bed, and not talk to anyone for like a week. I just–I can’t.” 

He threw his glasses down on the table and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes; he just wanted the ground to swallow him whole; he wanted the world to be put on pause while he figured his shit out. Ilya’s firm hands wrapped around Luca’s wrists from across the table. He rubbed reassuring circles into Luca’s skin. They sat like that for a few minutes as Luca tried to steady his breath. He was glad that there was no one else on the patio at that moment. It was still too early, he wasn’t even sure how early, but early enough for a Sunday in Los Angeles.

“Look at me.” Ilya finally spoke. When Luca peeled his hands away from his eyes, everything was blurry. He reached down and carefully slid his glasses back up the bridge of his nose until he could see Ilya clearly again. His face was calm, unwavering, as he stared into Luca’s eyes.

“First, you are not stupid for being upset about Eric.” Ilya started. Luca tried to protest but Ilya continued, “He has been giving you mixed signals. Of course you are upset.”

Luca slouched back into his chair. Okay, so he wasn’t crazy. It was fucked up. And Eric didn’t even tell him about any of it, like it was some big secret, some stupid game Eric was playing with Luca. Just stupid.

“Second, your brain is still healing. If you are experiencing some symptoms then we should talk to Terry–”

“I’m fine.” Luca mumbled. The waitress came to drop off some jams, syrup, and ketchup which Ilya faintly smiled up at her for. She left just as quickly as she came. Luca stared after her.

“Da, you might be fine, but you do not need to struggle. I will text Terry later.” Ilya continued. His tone remained gentle but not in a way that made Luca feel like he was fragile; in a way that made him feel like he could trust Ilya with anything.

“And what is this paperwork Farrah is sending?” He took a careful sip of his coffee.

Luca glanced over at the palm trees that lined the side of the patio. He sat up a big straighter in his chair.

“She wants me to figure out my will and estate.” Luca swallowed. 

“That is easy. Everything goes to Sophia, no?” Ilya said.

Luca shrugged. It was that easy, when you put it like that, but something still felt off about it. He did want everything to go to Sophia but he was worried that it might cause problems for her back home. His relationship with his parents had only faltered since moving to Canada. They didn’t talk much, maybe once every couple weeks they would check-in to see how he was doing, and even then it was more of a formality. Luca didn’t think it was possible to talk to his parents less than he had growing up but with the distance and the time difference, it happened naturally. What surprised Luca was the fact that he hadn’t felt much of a hole in their absence; he talked to Sophia almost everyday, Ilya or the Hollanders were there for him when it came to all of the adult decisions he needed to make, and his teammates were so supportive. The transition had been easier than he suspected and he was so glad he wasn’t doing it alone. 

He wouldn’t need to worry about his will and estate anyways. It was just something that Farrah said was protocol; he played a dangerous sport for a living and had recently come into a lot of money for a twenty year old. He needed something in writing in case anything happened. That had only become more real since his incident against Montreal. But the will wasn’t the only thing making him nervous as he sat across from Ilya. He released a shaky breath.

“Farrah also asked about medical decisions. Sophia isn’t eighteen yet.” Luca’s eyes flickered down to his weak cup of tea, hoping that Ilya would understand what he was saying. 

“Oh.” Ilya said. They sat in an awkward silence as Luca fidgeted with the tea bag hanging out of his teapot. He knew Ilya was studying him, trying to find a solution to this problem of his. There really was only one solution that made sense but Luca couldn't bring himself to ask it, just in case he didn't get the answer that he wanted. On top of everything else, he couldn't handle that rejection right now.

“Do you want to put my name down?” Ilya asked. His voice was a bit weaker then, like he was approaching a child who had just woken up from a nightmare. Maybe he wasn’t so far off. A small smile rose to Luca’s lips anyways.

He nodded. It made Ilya smile.

“Okay, consider it done.” And just like that, the awkward air around them dissipated, “Now, the podcast. You can cancel if you want. I can go instead, I'm sure the guys will be fine with it.”

Luca shook his head furiously.

“I’m not cancelling it.” Luca decided. It was his first ever gig outside of the Centaur’s social media stuff and the press that he had to engage in for the league. It was important and exciting, even if Luca didn’t feel that at the moment. He would regret not going.

“Well, I can come with you if you want.” Ilya offered simply. He took another sip of his coffee.

“No, no. It’s okay. You deserve a day off.” Luca insisted.

Ilya shrugged, “It is still my day off.”

Luca glared over at him.

“What? I want to spend time with you! Is that so bad?” Ilya’s voice pitched a bit higher. Luca couldn’t stop the smile that was tugging at his lips. Ilya mirrored it with a smile of his own, “And afterwards you can come with me to the mall. They have much better stores here than back home.”

Luca rolled his eyes jokingly but let an easy grin rise to his face. The waitress returned with their food and Luca’s stomach growled at the sight of the french toast and home fries in front of him. He was grateful that Ilya brought him here.

They quickly tucked into their breakfast and fell into a much more comfortable silence. Luca was already feeling better; even though his problems didn't disappear, Ilya found a way to make them feel more manageable. His heart still stung and his stomach still churned, but he was lighter–-more stable–-as he watched Ilya do his happy food dance from across the table.

“What?” Ilya asked as he popped another piece of bacon in his mouth.

“Nothing.” Luca chuckled as he took another sip of his tea, “Just, thank you.”

Ilya smiled sweetly at him.

“Of course, mishutka.” 

“Mishutka?” Luca raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t recognized the Russian word as it rolled off of Ilya’s lips with ease. It definitely wasn’t one of the swear words that Ilya had taught him.

“Teddy bear.” Ilya supplied.

Luca felt his cheeks grow warm. Mishutka. He liked it. 

///

Later that afternoon, they sat in the back of an Uber as Ilya prepared Luca for the podcast. He gave a basic background on the two hosts, who Luca already knew a bit about, and then he ran through the list of questions they were going to ask him. They were fairly basic and had already been pre-approved by both Farrah and Yuna, so he wasn’t too nervous about it. They’d all agreed it was a good first appearance for him to get accustomed to this side of his career, which he wanted to grow in the second-half of his rookie year. They were working tirelessly to figure out his first brand deals and partnerships, all of which overwhelmed Luca, but he trusted the people in his corner. It was the first time he'd experienced that before. It was nice.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from Eric, wishing him good luck on the podcast. He turned his phone off.

Eric was trying his best to ignore the awkward tension between them. Luca couldn't ignore this even if he tried. He wanted to switch rooms when they landed in Los Angeles but there was no way he could do that without drawing suspicions. Instead, Luca avoided any attempts that Eric made to talk to him outside of the team, even if he knew that Eric would never bring up the one thing causing him the most pain. Luca was silently grateful for Eric’s poor communication skills as he looked out the window of the car. He wouldn't know what to say to Eric anyways.

Hey, it’s pretty fucked up that you did’t tell me you had a girlfriend.

Hey Eric, I have a crush on you and I know you’re straight but you’re really confusing me. 

You can’t look at me like that when you have a whole girlfriend waiting for you back home.

None of them sounded quite right. He pushed those thoughts aside as Ilya led him into the studio.

“Rozy! I didn’t know you were coming today.” Brad Hammersmith pulled Ilya into a hug. 

“I wouldn't miss the chance to see my second favourite vet.” Ilya grinned as he clapped Brad on the back. Brad rolled his eyes and made a joke about how he took better care of him than Cliff Marlow did, which didn't take a genius to figure out, based on the photos of Cliff and Ilya going out every weekend in his rookie season. Ilya simply laughed and stepped aside to bring Luca into the conversation, “Hammer, this is Luca.”

“Luca, great to meet you! Roz has told me a lot about you.” Brad shook his hand firmly. 

“Only good things, I hope.” He smiled up at the greying man.

Brad chuckled as he led them down the hall to the podcast studio. His cohost, Johnny Switzer, pulled Ilya into an excited hug before doing the same with Luca. It was weird seeing Ilya interact with his former teammates. It was a bit different than how Ilya was with the Centaurs but he seemed to enjoy it all the same. Having Ilya here took the attention off him a bit, even as he politely excused himself and let Luca know that he’d be waiting for him at a coffee shop down the street. The guys insisted that he stayed to watch but Ilya politely declined; this is about Luca, he said firmly, which made Luca smile nervously as he popped the large headphones on. When Ilya finally left, squeezing Luca’s shoulder as he did, he took a few deep breaths to settle the butterflies that had risen in his stomach.

A little while later, once they had discussed some of the basics of Luca’s childhood, his draft back in 2018, and finally his success as a Centaur the past few months, Luca was feeling much more comfortable.

“Well we obviously gotta get into your relationship with Roz.” Brad said. Luca tried his best to look nonchalant as his eyes flicked between the two co-hosts. A small smile crept onto his face.

“For anyone that doesn’t know, you are living with our old friend and absolute legend in the making, Ilya Rozanov.” Johnny continued. 

“I am.” He confirmed.

“Tell us everything. What’s it like living with Roz?” Brad flashed him a toothy grin.

“You know, everyone keeps asking me that like they’re waiting for some sort of drama but it’s really quite normal.” He chuckled as he leaned into the mic.

“Oh, c’mon. You gotta give us some dirt on him.” Johnny grinned.

“We played with him for years and could not figure out something wrong with him. The guy is basically perfect in every way; he’s handsome, he’s arguably one of the best talents to come out of Russia, he’s charming with the ladies…there has to be something we’re missing.” Brad added.

“Nope, he’s kinda perfect.” Luca smiled over at them, not budging, even though there was a whole side to Ilya that he knew that even these guys didn’t. He took a deep breath before continuing with his media-trained answer, “I’m really grateful for him though, he’s made this transition into the league so much easier.”

“Were you a big fan growing up?” Brad asked as he took a sip of his coffee. Luca chuckled to himself.

“Yeah, I watched him growing up--I watched all of you guys, actually--but he was my favourite player and he never lets me forget it.” He rolled his eyes jokingly as the guys chirped him about it, claiming that there were so many better options out there. They all knew it wasn’t true.

“How about that fight with Comeau? That was kind of crazy.” Johnny followed-up. Luca stiffened. That wasn’t a pre-approved question, if he could recall, and he tried his hardest not to show the mix of emotions on his face as he thought back to the fight. He took a deep breath.

“Yeah that was a bit of a tense moment,” He chose his words carefully, “You know what hockey is like. Sometimes anger flares and guys get caught up in the moment.”

“So that’s what that was? Just two guys getting caught up in the moment? There’s no bad blood between any of you?” Johnny asked with a raised eyebrow. He wasn’t too sure how he felt about this guy, he seemed to have ulterior motives with this line of questioning, but Luca nodded along. He noticed Brad’s eyes flicking between the pair cautiously.

“I thought it was cool how Roz stepped in for you. Number one rule of the MLH, don’t touch the rookie.” Brad said. He sent a small reassuring smile in Luca’s direction which he returned. He was starting to understand Brad’s reputation as the responsible one on the team–-he really did have a paternal energy about him.

“What’s the best piece of advice he’s given you since you started with the league?” Brad pivoted.

Luca thought for a moment back to the many late night conversations they’d had on the couch. All of the questions he’d asked Ilya and received unguarded answers for; everything from his childhood in Russia to moving across the world to gaining fame at such a young age. Ilya had been a wealth of knowledge for Luca, so much so that he was having a hard time just pinpointing one thing. At least, one that he felt comfortable sharing openly with these two guys and the thousands of people who would watch this podcast later on. 

“Probably just that the noise doesn’t matter. At the end of the day we’re here to play hockey and while all of this,” He gestured around them, “is nice–-the interviews, the brand deals, the social media of it all–-it’s not what I’m here for. My focus is on my game and everything around that, all of the voices, can’t get in the way of that.”

He was happy with his answer but he quickly added, “And I think having a strong foundation off the ice, whether that be with Ilya, the guys, my friends and family, has really helped me with that. To know who I am and not let anyone else decide that for me.”

He thought about the narratives that still followed Ilya to this day; whether that be his rivalry with Shane or even his womanizer persona. Luca was grateful that none of those things had started to follow him. He wondered if his relationship with Eric would follow him. Would it ever turn into something more? The narrative, that is, not the real thing. So far, the commentators and mainstream media just pushed the friendship arc, likely too scared to bring any of the fangirl’s thoughts onto live television; but there were definitely undertones. And the cameras were always on them.

“How have you been handling the sudden rise to fame?” Johnny followed-up, “I’ve seen your socials–-both you and your teammate, Eric Young–-you’re getting a lot of attention from the ladies.”

It was almost like Luca wished this topic into existence. The question was harmless, one that Johnny really had no clue the actual depth to, but it was yet another question that wasn’t on their pre-approved list. His cheeks flushed as he stared across the room at Johnny. He knew he didn’t have to answer this question if he didn’t want to, but Luca tried his best.

“I’m very grateful that people have taken an interest in me. It lets me do cool things like this.” He decided. It was safe enough; it gave them something to work with without actually getting into anything. The last thing he wanted to talk about right now was Eric.

“I see you’ve been PR trained.” Brad joked. It made Luca chuckle.

“Sorry, sorry,” Johnny put his hands up in mock surrender, “The fans would just be pissed if I didn’t bring up Young.”

Luca forced a smile, ignoring the way that his heart was pounding in his chest. Johnny was right, it would be weird for him to not talk about Eric; they were always together, the two best friends and rookies taking Ottawa by storm. So he tried his best to give a pleasant response to Johnny's continued pointed questions.

"Eric is great. I'm so glad that I have both him and LaPointe to go through this whole experience with." It was yet another PR trained answer, one that Johnny simply ignored as he pressed on.

"I heard a little rumour about you two." Johnny smiled cheekily. Luca's smile faltered.

"Oh yeah?" He chuckled nervously. So many thoughts scrolled through his brain at that moment. What did you hear? Where did you hear it? Who was spreading rumours about them? Were you watching the fan edits online? None of those questions were appropriate as he kept a small smile on his face, waiting for Johnny to continue.

"About cookies."

A wave of something washed over Luca. Relief? Fear? Maybe a mix of both? Who had shared this? One of the guys?

"Cookies?" Brad raised a quizzical eyebrow at Luca.

A warmth crept up the back of Luca's neck. He didn't want to get into this. It was just for them, something sacred. Something that shouldn't be shared and manipulated online for others' entertainment; something that now, even just thinking about it, made his chest cave in. He took a couple steadying breaths.

Regardless of what he shared, it wasn't true anymore. He couldn't picture a world where they ate cookies and watched Disney movies together again; not when all he wanted to do in those moments was to reach out and touch Eric. Not when the sanctity of those nights spent in a shared hotel room were shattered by three simple words. Just my girlfriend. Still, he wanted to protect it, to hold it close to his chest even as it slipped through his fingers. Now it was just a painful memory.

Luca wasn't sure how long he'd been silent for but the two guys were staring at him, waiting for him to say something.

"It's nothing." He waved off. The guys didn't look convinced. Johnny clearly wanted to press more but Brad quickly made a joke about how the fans could take their best guess about what the rumour was. Luca fidgeted with his headphone chord under the table as he plastered a fake smile on his face. 

As they neared the end of the podcast, they fell into a game of Quick Fire Questions.

“Okay, game winning goal in the Olympics or Stanley Cup?” Johnny asked.

“Oh my gosh,” Luca gasped, “You’re killing me here. Uh, Stanley Cup, I think.”

“Really? Wow, okay. If you could choose another MLH player, current or past,” Brad jokingly pointed between himself and Johnny, “–to play with the Centaurs next season, who would it be?”

“Shane Hollander.” The answer escaped him before he could stop it. 

Brad’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“You’re picking your boy’s arch rival?” Johnny gasped.

Luca chuckled nervously as he fidgeted with his headphone chord under the table. 

“They have a charity together.” He wagered. The two guys seemed to remember at that moment.

“Honestly that would be an insane front line; Hollander, Roz, and yourself.” Brad thought aloud.

Luca genuinely laughed at that.

“I appreciate the thought but you don’t have to put me up there with them. Heck if you just had the two of them on the ice, that would be enough.” He beamed.

They all laughed and Luca tamed the light pink blush that had crept up the back of his neck. He was happy when they moved on.

“Okay, last one. Fuck, marry, kill...”

“Dear god.” Luca whispered to himself. The mic picked it up and Brad snickered over at him.

“Tate McCrae, Selena Gomez, and Sabrina Carpenter.” Johnny grinned.

Luca shifted in his chair. He thought back to some of the answers he’d heard other hockey players give over the years; ones that came across as equally nonchalant and yet somehow full of an arrogance that they might have an actual shot with these ladies. He cleared his throat.

“Uh, okay. I would marry Selena Gomez just because, well, it’s Selena Gomez.” The guys seemed to agree with that, “I would fuck Tate McCrae.”

The words sounded foreign in his mouth.

“And I would kill Sabrina Carpenter, I’m so sorry.” He cringed as he looked at one of the many cameras in the room. He really did like her music but hockey players loved Tate McCrae and he didn’t want to draw any attention to himself by killing her off. It was the safer choice.

“That’s what I would’ve said too.” Johnny reassured him. His cheeks flushed again as they closed out the podcast and shouted out Luca’s socials before encouraging them all to tune into his game against Los Angeles the next day. 

Luca let go of a shaky breath as they cut the cameras. The guys thanked him for coming on and reassured him it went well. They said their goodbyes to one another and shortly afterwards Luca was in a car headed to the mall with Ilya. 

“How’d it go?” Ilya asked as they sat in the back of the Uber. 

“Pretty good. Nothing to get me cancelled, I don’t think.” He let go of a shaky breath. Ilya chuckled to himself as he looked out the window at the clouds.

“I think they’d have to try pretty hard to get you cancelled.” He offered. 

At the mall, Ilya bought far too many expensive clothes. Luca thought that Shane would have an aneurysm if he saw some of the receipts.

///

When they walked in for team dinner that night, the guys all cheered for Luca.

“Here he is, ladies and gentlemen,” Dykstra cupped his hands around his mouth as he spoke in a funny presenter voice, “Luca Haas. Hockey Player. Podcaster. Social Media Star.”

Luca blushed as he fell into the food line behind Ilya. They’d clearly seen the behind-the-scenes videos that the Talkin’ Pucks guys had posted. Ilya had even shared one on his story, it was a video of Luca recreating his infamous interview from many years ago; the one where he insisted he was going to score fifty goals instead of forty. Liar told you that. Luca was quite good at lipsyncing to the video and capturing Ilya’s intimidating glare. It made him laugh.

Ilya turned to Luca with a sideways grin and handed him an empty plate. Luca took it quickly, averting his eyes from the room of loud men. They started to load their plates as the guys continued joking around them. Ilya scanned the room just as Luca was nearing the end of the buffet. Eric was sitting at a table in the corner with some of the younger guys. LaPointe and Holmberg were sitting on either side of him, joking around and chatting casually. Eric was staring at Luca, an unreadable expression painted across his face. Sadness? Confusion? When he caught Ilya’s eye he quickly returned to listen to LaPointe's story, falling back into laughter with the other guys. It was clearly forced.

Ilya led Luca over to a table with Bood, Wyatt, and Troy. The guys immediately had Luca recap his day. He told them about the podcast and the sort of questions they asked him. Ilya and Bood reassured him that his answer to the fuck, marry, kill question was accurate. Even with all of the joking around, Ilya noticed the way that Luca’s shoulders hiked up closer and closer to his ears as the conversation went on. They started teasing him about the thirst traps that were already circulating TikTok. 

“You looked hot.” Bood shrugged casually.

Wyatt had pulled up one of the photos of Luca on the Talkin' Pucks Instagram page and he was currently scrolling through them for the guys at the table. He did look good, no thanks to Ilya, who helped him pick out his podcast outfit on a FaceTime call back in Florida. He'd look good in the new clothes they bought today too; Ilya was looking forward to their next night out when Luca could wear some of them. Maybe he would meet someone else and forget all about the pain that Eric had caused him. Probably not, though, that wasn't Luca's stride. It's what Ilya would've done though. He had to remind himself that they were very different in that regard.

“He’s a bit young for you, no?” Ilya joked. 

“Don’t make it weird.” Bood glared at Ilya, who was confused as to how he was the one making it weird. Luca just looked down at his plate, trying to tame the blush on his cheeks, as they all laughed.

“Sounds like a good first promo day, Haasy.” Troy offered a small smile.

“We’ll have to have a team watch party when the podcast drops.” Wyatt added.

Luca’s eyes widened at the thought.

“Absolutely not.” He said.

“Team watch party at Bood’s house when Luca’s podcast drops!” Wyatt cheered and their teammates around the room all laughed. Luca shrunk himself in his chair. Ilya just chuckled at them.

After dinner, Ilya invited Luca back to his room to watch a movie; he figured he didn't want to be around Eric after the long day he'd just had. It didn't take long for Luca to crash, wrapped comfortably in a pair of Ilya's sweats that he let him borrow so that Luca didn't have to stop by his own room. He watched him sleep as the movie played softly in the background. Luca looked so young then, so calm, the line that had etched itself in between his eyebrows that morning now softened. His eyelashes fluttered every now and then as he dreamed peacefully.

As he watched Luca sleep he found himself getting emotional. He excused it as just being tired; the road trip was dragging on and the holidays were fast approaching. Sophia would be there within a matter of days and so would Shane. They'd all have a few days off to celebrate with Yuna and David; one big, happy family. Ilya was really looking forward to it. He hoped it was boring and peaceful. They all deserved that.

Chapter End Notes

Your comments literally make my day so thank you for continuing to leave them!! Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter :)

Christmas is coming soon!!!

Chapter 19: Two Worlds Colliding

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, December 2020

Ilya pushed the cart down a different aisle of HomeSense with a huff. He was doing some last minute Christmas shopping; he already stopped by the LCBO to get vodka for David and then into their local international grocery store to get snacks for himself and the kids. Yuna told him not to make a big fuss about it but Ilya wanted it to be perfect. He’d been celebrating Christmas with the Hollanders for years but this one was different, this one would be with their growing family. Ilya silently hoped it was the first of many with this same group but he kept those thoughts close to his chest as he searched high and low for some bedroom necessities for Sophia.

He had started Christmas shopping a couple months ago and thankfully all of the gifts had already arrived at his house. Every time a package arrived while Ilya was away in Florida he would receive a text from Luca about how he was doing too much. Ilya would simply reply with some variation of "you’re not supposed to be looking at screens"; besides, there was no such thing as doing too much for Christmas. It had quickly become his favourite holiday over the past few years.

Ilya raked a hand through his hair as he looked at the assortment of towels on the shelf. His body was lethargic and brain foggy as they'd just flown in that morning from their final games in Alberta. They ended the west coast trip with two losses against Calgary and Edmonton. They were gone for way too long, Ilya had to remind himself, as he thought back to those final games. Luca had spent a lot more time with Ilya in the final stretch of the road trip, finding ways to avoid Eric at all costs and often falling asleep in Ilya’s room. Ilya didn’t mind though, he actually really appreciated it, as the frequency of his bad brain days increased. 

First came the exhaustion which was a normal side effect with all of the travel. Then came the intrusive thoughts; the constant reminders that he was useless, that no one actually wanted him around. He tried his best to throw himself into hockey and spend more time with his teammates, even as his brain betrayed him. Luca always helped. He would stick by Ilya’s side through it all and jump into conversations when he noticed Ilya was fading. Sometimes he would randomly compliment Ilya, tell him how much he looked up to him, and other times he would show up to Ilya’s hotel room with his favourite vending machine candy for their impromptu movie nights.

Somehow over the past few months, even in Ilya's best attempts to hide his depression from Luca, the rookie could sense when Ilya was having a hard time. He always knew just what Ilya needed during those moments. He didn't even need to know what to do, necessarily, as simply being in his presence made Ilya feel a bit better. It confused Ilya. It wasn't instantaneous or absolute--Ilya knew that his depression was never going to magically disappear, no matter how many people showed him love--but it was comparable to the safety that Shane had given him over the past few years. It was refreshing, even if a bit uncomfortable. He would have to talk to Galina about it another time.

When they flew home, a group of them drove straight from the airport to the local Children’s hospital for their annual Christmas visit. This was Ilya’s favourite thing to do and he often visited the kids throughout the season; he found that even on his worst days it made him feel better. This visit was no different but it was even more special getting to watch Luca interact with the kids. He was really nervous about it, much like Troy was the year before, but he was a natural. He doodled superheroes and Disney characters for the kids, signed jerseys for the parents, and even took photos with some of the younger nurses who were interested in him. 

“If only they knew.” Troy whispered to Ilya as they watched the group of female nurses surround Luca. He was beet red as he smiled for the photo, trying his best not to look over at Troy and Ilya as they giggled at him.

In one of their first visits, Luca was quickly pulled into a pleasant conversation with one of the dads. He seemed to be a big fan and he made sure to compliment Luca’s 34 point season so far. Luca had laughed and assured him it was all because of his line mates.

“He is too humble, don’t listen to him!” Ilya called over his shoulder as he bent down to chat with the little boy who was perched on the side of the bed. 

Ilya dramatically gasped when he showed him a copy of the Chel game with his face on it. He popped up to turn the TV on in the corner of the room.

“Luca, get over here!” He exclaimed happily, “I need you to make sure that Tommy doesn’t cheat.”

Once Luca got over the fact that Ilya had just accused a 10 year-old with Leukemia of being a cheater, he politely excused himself from his previous conversation and walked over to watch them play. Ilya made a big fuss over the fact that Tommy beat him while Luca just laughed at them. 

“Wow, you really are bad at this, Ilya.” Luca giggled alongside Tommy. He'd like to say that he let Tommy win but that wasn't entirely true so he just rolled his eyes jokingly.

A little while later, the two of them were sitting with a couple little girls in the playroom, Barbies in hand. Ilya had just changed his Barbie’s outfit and he held it up to the five year old girl tucked into his lap.

“See, I think this outfit is better. The blue dress really makes her eyeshadow pop,” He commented casually as he smoothed out the doll’s hair, “That gold dress was hideous.” 

The little girl giggled and reached out to grab it from him. Luca was having difficulty getting the dress of his Barbie over her head as the other little girl watched him impatiently. Ilya poked fun at him for it and Luca flushed a deep red as the little girl took the Barbie back from him and fixed her outfit. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harris snap a photo at that very moment. He would have to ask him for it later.

Back in HomeSense, Ilya leaned down to look at the assortment of towels, his knees protesting with a loud crack as he scanned the options. The other guest room, the one that Sophia would be staying in, was already decorated and fully stocked with the necessities but he wanted it to be special for her. Right now it was a boring arrangement of grey bedsheets and towels, and he figured that Sophia would like something with a pop of colour. Luca mentioned that she liked purple; well, he hadn't exactly mentioned it so much as Ilya had pulled it out of him. 

“Ilya, you don’t have to redecorate the room for her. She’s only here for like a week!” Luca protested as they drove back from the hospital earlier that afternoon.

“Nonsense, I want her to be comfortable. Just tell me what her favourite colour is.” Ilya shrugged casually but his thumbs gave him away as he drummed them impatiently on the steering wheel. Luca raised an eyebrow at his hands, which Ilya immediately stilled.

“I promise I won’t go overboard. Just a few small things.” He tried his best to sound convincing. He knew that Luca didn’t believe him.

“Purple.” Luca grumbled. 

Ilya grinned to himself. Purple towels it was. He grabbed a small stack of the bamboo ones and tucked them into the already overflowing cart. This would have to do, he decided, as he pushed the cart over to the checkout.

///

It was the day before Sophia landed and Luca was working tirelessly over a welcome sign for her. He had convinced Ilya to stop at Dollarama on their way back from the hospital earlier that day to get some supplies. Ilya agreed, obviously, and he even offered to help make it but Luca kind of needed the distraction after the emotional week he’d had. So he was sitting at the dining room table, bristol board and art supplies sprawled out in front of him, as he tried to arrange the sign in his mind. Just as he was tracing out large bubble letters, the doorbell rang.

Luca didn’t even look up from his work as Ilya walked over to answer it. He heard the door open.

“Oh, Young.” Ilya’s voice was a tad louder than it should’ve been. Luca dropped his pencil, “What are you doing here?” His tone was pointed in a way that let Luca know what was happening from around the corner. He really wasn’t being very subtle, but Eric wasn’t incredibly perceptive anyways, Luca reminded himself.

“What? I can’t stop by my captain’s house unannounced?” Eric joked.

“No, no you cannot.” Ilya dead panned. There was nervous laughter and then some shuffling as Eric rounded the corner. Luca tried his best to continue tracing his bubble letters, as if he hadn’t even heard Eric arrive.

He only glanced up from his poster when Eric came to stand in front of him, on the other side of the table, not quite sure what to do with himself. As much as Luca didn’t want to, he couldn’t tame the smile that came to his face as he looked up at Eric. He just looked so cute with his rosy cheeks and a beanie tucked snugly over his head. He was wearing a jean jacket which definitely wasn’t appropriate for the snowy conditions that had now taken over Ottawa. Eric smiled down at the art supplies on the table. 

“Whatcha doin?” Eric asked. 

Ilya rounded the corner then, a knowing smile on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows at Luca, and then jogged up the stairs. Luca was grateful for that because he wasn’t quite sure where this interaction was headed. His stomach was already doing flips, he didn’t need Ilya lingering nearby, listening in, to make it even worse. 

Luca hadn’t talked with Eric much since the game back in San Jose. They’d chatted on the ice, pretended like everything was fine in front of the others, but he was still avoiding any possible interaction with Eric alone. They hadn’t watched their Disney movies together, which Luca simply blamed on Ilya needing some support at the moment, and they hadn’t sat beside each other on any of the flights or buses in the last stretch of the road trip. Luca fidgetted with his pencil nervously under the table as he looked down at the poster.

“Making a welcome sign for Sophia.” Luca cleared his throat. 

What’re you doing? Why are you here? Are you as nervous as I am right now? He had so many questions that he wanted to ask Eric but none of them came to the surface.

“Is it stressing you out?” Eric raised an eyebrow as he took a seat across from Luca. He sat up a little straighter in his own chair, eyes still focused on the table between them. 

“Well this is supposed to be helping me relax but I just want it to be perfect for her.” Luca admitted. He finally met Eric’s gaze again and his heart nearly jumped out of his throat. He looked sad, uneasy, as he studied Luca’s face. There were so many thoughts swirling around his best friend’s head, maybe some of them mirrored Luca’s own, but he decided to take the conversation in another direction instead.

“How did it go today?” Eric asked. 

He knew how nervous Luca had been for it; they’d talked a lot about Eric’s own visit to the hospital around Thanksgiving and what Luca should expect. Everything Eric had said had held up as far as Luca was concerned and, to be honest, it went a lot better than he expected. That didn’t do much to shake the nervous energy that still lingered in his body even hours later but that likely had more to do with the man sitting across from him than the hospital visit itself.

“It went well,” Luca blew out a shaky breath, “The kids were so sweet and I think they liked our gifts.” He thought back to the Barbies with a small smile on his face.

“The photos were nice.” Eric commented casually. 

Luca had successfully been avoiding social media for the past week. The podcast had been posted and the reception online had been fairly nice, lots of fans made edits of him, including of the brief clip when he’d been asked about Eric. Apparently the fans loved the way that he blushed at the mention of Eric’s name, at least, that’s what Harris had informed him when Luca asked for an update a couple days before. He wondered if Eric had seen those same edits. What would he think of them? Probably nothing.

“Oh yeah.” Luca hummed noncommittally, clearly disinterested in that line of conversation. 

There was a pause in their conversation as Eric struggled with what to say next. Luca decided to go back to tracing out the bubble letters and pick out some of Sophia’s favourite colours for the poster. Eric watched him in silence for a few moments as Luca tried to picture what he wanted the sign to look like. He was shuffling through some stickers when Eric cleared his throat again.

“I got you something.” Eric said. 

Luca furrowed his eyebrows at him, “You did?”

A small smile crept onto Eric’s face as he nodded eagerly.

“For Christmas.” He beamed. Luca’s eyes widened.

“Oh, wait, I didn't know we were doing gifts.” Luca lied.

Eric chuckled, “It’s just something small, don’t worry about it.”

He placed a small gift bag in one of the few empty spaces on the table. Luca sent him a tight-lipped smile as he grabbed the bag and pulled out the tissue paper. A bubble of laughter escaped him when he saw it. It was a chocolate chip cookie stuffed animal with black eyes and a small smile on its face. Luca flicked the dangly legs at the bottom of it as he smiled over at Eric. He was already grinning back at him.

“I figured he could join your collection!” He beamed. 

Luca’s heart fluttered at the thought. He would hardly call it a collection but maybe it wasn’t the most normal thing for a twenty year old man to have three stuffed animals sitting on his bed. He pushed the thought aside as he thought about how cute this one would be next to the little lamb Ilya had bought him just a few months before.

“I love it. Thank you.” He smiled over at Eric as he propped up his new stuffed animal against the box of markers he had sitting beside him. He arranged the cookie’s legs so that they were crossed over one another like a distinguished gentleman. Eric chuckled.

“What are you going to name him?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” Luca stared at the little stuffed animal as it smiled back at him.

“What about Eric?” He joked which made Luca roll his eyes, “That way when you miss me you can give Eric junior a hug.”

“You’re gone for like three days.” 

“Three days is a long time.” 

“Whatever.” Luca grumbled as he looked down at his welcome sign. The nerves in his gut had blossomed into butterflies and he took a few deep breaths to settle them. 

He has a girlfriend, Luca. This is nothing. Just banter between two friends.

“When’s your flight?” Luca cleared his throat. Eric looked down at his Apple Watch.

“A couple hours.” He shrugged. 

Eric was going back to Vancouver for the short holiday break they had and Luca wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it. Part of him was happy to have a bit of distance but it would be the longest they’d been apart since September. Luca knew he had no right to be sad about it but the feelings still lingered; the sadness but also the confusion. He would figure that out by the time Eric came back. It would be different. It would be fine.

“You should probably get going then.” Luca offered. Eric’s smile faltered. 

“Oh, yeah. For sure.” Eric got up from the table. He paused to look at Luca again as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, “Well, Merry Christmas, Haasy.”

“Merry Christmas, Eric.” 

He wanted to get up, to hug him, to thank him for the Christmas gift and run upstairs to get his own for Eric. His body knew better in that moment as he stayed glued to his chair. Eric hesitated as he looked down at Luca, almost like he wanted to say something more, before he quickly left the house. 

Once Luca heard the door click shut, he groaned loudly and rested his head in his folded arms on the table. He rolled his head to the side and glanced at the stuffed animal that smiled back at him. His heart clenched in his chest.

Later that night, Luca sat at his desk watching the live tracker of Sophia’s flight on his laptop, refreshing it every few minutes. She wouldn’t be here for another ten hours but it brought him a bit of peace watching the little plane as it crossed Europe slowly. She was probably fast asleep in first class, because of course Ilya bought her a first class ticket, meanwhile Luca was sitting there nervously watching the time tick away until he could hug his little sister again. He really needed a Sophia hug right about now. 

Luca glanced over at the picture frame that was propped up in the corner of his room. He slid his desk chair over to it and picked it up carefully, turning it around so that he could inspect it. It was a piece that Luca had been working on for months; a collage of drawings that he’d done on various boarding passes, coasters from bars they’d gone to, receipts from restaurants they’d eaten at. Luca had drawn a Disney character on each of them, from whatever movie they’d been watching at the time, and arranged them perfectly behind the glass frame. There were a few blank spaces that were supposed to be filled by additions from their most recent road trip but Luca had never finished them. His last addition sat in the front pocket of his backpack; a notepad from their hotel in Arizona, covered in a drawing of Mulan and Li Shang.

This gift was 4 months in the making. It was something that Luca had been looking forward to giving Eric. Now, it just sat collecting dust in his room. He tucked it under his bed and stretched back in his desk chair again, wiping a tired hand over his face. His eyes landed on the stuffed animal that Eric had gotten him. 

He decided to tuck that under his bed as well. They could collect dust together.

///

When Ilya and Luca pulled up to the Arrivals gate at the Ottawa MacDonald-Cartier International Airport, Luca was excited. He couldn’t quite explain it, he had been to this airport countless times before, but this time was different. They found a parking spot and found the terminal that Sophia had texted him when she first got her flight information. 

Luca’s heart pounded in his chest. He was holding a bouquet of purple flowers as he watched person after person walk through the sliding glass doors. Ilya pulled his baseball cap a bit lower on his head as his eyes darted all around them. He’d told Ilya he could wait in the car, that he didn’t want to stress him out if people recognized them, but Ilya pulled into the parking lot without a second thought and walked right into the busy terminal with the welcome sign in hand. A small part of Luca was grateful for him as he rocked back and forth impatiently. 

“Is that her?” Ilya asked. 

Luca’s eyes found the girl that just walked through the doors and a smile crept up onto his face. There she was, her bright blonde hair pulled into a knot on the top of her head and large headphones covering her ears. She rolled her large suitcase to a stop just outside of the doors and carefully scanned the room. When her eyes finally landed on Luca, she beamed, and abandoned her suitcase to run towards him. 

“Luca!” She squealed happily. Luca caught her with open arms and spun her around.

“Soph!” He squeezed her once more before planting her back on her feet. They held each other for what felt like forever. Luca blinked rapidly at the tears that threatened to spill over; happy tears, of course, because he finally had a piece of home with him in Canada. His two worlds were colliding.

“I can’t believe I’m here!” Sophia sighed as she stepped away from him, “Are these for me?” She smiled down at the flowers which were a little ruffled now. Luca held them out to her with a shy smile.

“Yes they are, and so is this–” He turned to the spot where Ilya was previously standing with the welcome sign, but it was suddenly empty. His eyebrows furrowed.

“Sorry!” Ilya jogged up to them. The welcome sign was tucked under his arm as he dragged Sophia’s suitcase behind him, “What did you pack? Rocks?” 

Sophia blushed. Luca smiled between them.

“Ilya, this is my little sister Sophia. Sophia, this is Ilya.” They already knew each other, of course, but he figured the formal introduction was important. He’d been thinking about it ever since Ilya gifted him the ticket.

“It’s nice to finally meet you!” Ilya smiled down at her. He pulled her into a respectful side hug which Sophia returned happily.

“You too, Ilya.” She beamed up at him and then at the welcome sign that Luca worked tirelessly over.

“Okay, let’s get out of here! I have so many plans for us.” Luca quickly took her backpack from her and threw an arm around her shoulder as he guided them back to the car.

///

Ilya felt an odd mix of emotions as he watched Luca and Sophia interact throughout the day. They were sitting in the living room surrounded by wrapping paper as they babbled on in French. He hadn’t seen Luca this happy in awhile, possibly ever, as Sophia beamed over at him from behind her cup of hot chocolate that Ilya made them. He loaded them with extra whipped cream and even candy cane sprinkles, which he knew Shane would hate, but made Sophia’s eyes brighten in a way that made it all worth it.

Then Ilya was kicked out of the room because Luca needed to wrap his gift, which Ilya insisted he did not need but happily obliged anyways. He stole glances at them from the kitchen for a bit; they seamlessly fell into a rhythm with one another. It was foreign to Ilya. He’d never known a sibling dynamic like this one; what with his older brother being, well, his older brother, and Shane being an only child. He wondered what it was like to grow up with a sibling you actually loved. It seemed special.

“Hey, stop peeking!” Luca threw a pillow at him from across the room. It landed at Ilya’s feet but it broke him out of his trance anyways. 

“Sorry.” Ilya chuckled to himself as he swivelled his chair back towards the kitchen island. He pulled out his phone to scroll on social media. 

Shane would be there any moment and he could hardly contain his excitement. It had been a long time since they saw each other–-since the game against Montreal earlier that month–-and he was getting impatient. They would have three whole days with one another and the rest of the Hollander-Haas clan, and Ilya was genuinely excited for it. A small part of him still felt off from the past few weeks but he pushed that feeling aside just as there was a quiet knock at the door. Ilya all but sprinted over to it, threw the door open, and pulled Shane into a bone crushing hug.

“Hi, Ilya.” Shane chuckled as Ilya placed hurried kisses everywhere he could, “Okay, okay. Let me breathe.”

“No, I refuse.” He said dramatically as he placed a lingering kiss on Shane’s lips. Shane melted into it, which made Ilya smile as he finally pulled away.

“I missed you, solnyshko.” Ilya whispered.

Shane smiled up at him, “I missed you more.”

“Not possible.” 

Ilya stepped aside and helped Shane bring his bags into the front entryway. He closed the door behind them and watched as Shane quickly slipped on his house slippers. It made Ilya smile.

“Are they here?” Shane whispered. There was a loud laugh from the other room which made Shane jump.

“Da, they are.” Ilya chuckled.

Shane stood up a bit straighter as Ilya studied him.

“Are you nervous?” He whispered.

“What? No.” Shane chuckled. Ilya raised an eyebrow at him and Shane deflated under his gaze, “Okay, maybe a little bit.”

Ilya grinned as he pulled him into another, much gentler hug.

“It's fine, moya lyubov,” He rubbed a reassuring hand up and down Shane’s back, trying to physically wipe away the nerves from his body, “She’s going to like you. She’s a big fan.”

“Don’t remind me.” Shane whispered as he pulled away again, rolling his neck and shaking his hands out, “Okay, I’m ready.”

Ilya smiled as he grabbed Shane’s hand and led him around the corner. Sophia was practically rolling on the floor laughing at Luca’s pitiful attempt at wrapping one of the gifts and it made Ilya smile as he cleared his throat to get their attention. 

“Shane!” Luca bounced up and ran over to them. Luca practically jumped into Shane's arms which made him laugh.

“Hi, buddy. How are you?” He smiled.

“Better now that you’re here.” Luca pulled away and turned to Sophia, who was now standing shyly on the other side of the room, “Shane, this is Sophia. Sophia, well, you know who this is.”

Sophia turned beet red as they all chuckled. It was no secret that Shane was one of her favourite players growing up; Ilya often overheard Luca teasing her about it. She equally, and rightfully, always poked fun at him for being Ilya's number one fan. The two of them had that in common as the teasing continued for the whole drive home from the airport. 

“Luca, ne me fais pas honte !” Her tone was pointed. Even if Ilya couldn’t understand her, he was pretty sure she was threatening Luca within an inch of his life, but a small smile crept onto her face. 

“Nothing to be embarrassed about.” Shane smiled kindly. Ilya’s hand never left the small of his back as he traced a reassuring thumb there. 

Her eyes widened, “I forgot you spoke French.”

Shane chuckled and so did Luca.

“Okay, well we’re wrapping gifts and you can’t be here for that, so.” Luca’s voice trailed off as he looked over at Ilya.

“Right.” Ilya clapped his hands once and then went to collect Shane’s bags, “We’ll be upstairs if you need anything.”

He had a few ideas of how they could pass the time. Shane seemed to pick up on that as he followed Ilya up the stairs, insisting that he could carry his own bags, which Ilya simply ignored. He knew Shane liked it when he did small things like this and Ilya would do anything to make his boyfriend happy.

When the bedroom door shut behind them, Ilya immediately pulled Shane into a deep kiss. Shane moaned into it as Ilya walked him backwards against the door. Ilya started trailing kisses down his jaw and neck before Shane spoke up.

“We can’t do this with the kids downstairs.” Shane breathed out.

“We absolutely can.” Ilya insisted as he sucked on Shane’s collar bone.

“Ilya.” Shane whined.

“Shane.” Ilya matched his tone and pulled away to stare in his boyfriend’s eyes.

Shane studied his face. His eyebrows knitted together as he rested a gentle hand against Ilya's cheek. Ilya subconsciously leaned into it.

"You look tired." Shane whispered.

Ilya groaned.

"Of course I am tired but I also missed you." Ilya buried his head in Shane's neck again as Shane made feeble attempts to push him away. He pulled back again to look into Shane's eyes, “Are you seriously going to tell me you don’t want to do this right now?” 

His hand slipped below Shane’s belt to palm at his erection. Shane’s cheeks flushed. He really had no argument.

“Okay, we’ll just be quiet.”

Ilya chuckled, “Good idea.”

Chapter End Notes

Gentle reminder that I do not speak French or Russian, so its just me and Google translate against the world hahaha

Hope ya'll enjoy <3

Chapter 20: Christmas

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, December 2020

“Et chaque fois que nous voulons être discrets, nous pouvons simplement parler en français.” Shane looked over his shoulder with a smirk.

Sophia and Luca chuckled to themselves. Ilya’s hands tightened around the steering wheel as he glared over at Shane. The three of them had been speaking French on and off all day. Sometimes it was accidental, like when Luca was making lunch with Sophia and Shane would slip into their conversations as he saw fit. Other times it was intentional, like when Shane was giving Sophia pointers on how to beat Ilya at foosball. Ilya was growing more and more frustrated by this as time went on. It only made Luca giggle as Shane slipped into their mother tongue more often; he seemed to enjoy getting under Ilya's skin just as much as Ilya did his. It was a love language, of sorts, Luca quickly realized. 

“Okay, new rule. We only speak English when we are all together.” Ilya announced. Shane reached over and placed a hand at the nape of Ilya’s neck, smoothing out his baby hairs there.

“You told me you were practicing.” Shane’s smiled lazily over at Ilya.

“Da, but I am still learning. So, no French.” Ilya tutted.

Luca and Sophia giggled but they obliged. It was Christmas Eve and they were headed to the Hollander's for dinner. Luca and Sophia had finished wrapping their gifts, Ilya and Shane had finished napping, and they somehow managed to fit all of their stuff into the back of Ilya’s SUV. It was a bit of a tight fit with their overnight bags and gifts but they made it work.

When they got to the Hollander’s everything felt quite natural. Yuna and David had welcomed Sophia with open arms, they seemed to be happy to have both of their sons under the same roof again, and they were grateful when Luca offered to help in the kitchen. His heart ached when he realized they were having a traditional Swiss meal for Christmas Eve, which was sometimes a bigger deal back home than Christmas day itself. 

“Okay so Sophia, Luca tells us that you’re applying to med school.” Yuna started as soon as they sat down for dinner. She handed the plate of ham over to Ilya just as David spoke up. 

“Yuna, don’t pressure the poor girl. She just got here.” David said. The guys all chuckled around the table.

“What? I’m just curious.” Yuna defended.

They all knew she wasn’t just curious. Luca wouldn’t be surprised if she had already started doing her own research into the best European medical schools on her behalf. It made Luca smile to himself as he grabbed a bread roll from the bowl Shane was holding out to him.

“So tell me what schools you’re looking at.” Yuna continued.

Sophia took a careful sip of water.

“Well, I’ve already applied for the Karolinska Institute in Sweden and the University of Cambridge in England. There were a couple in Germany that looked promising too,” Sophia started before she carefully looked sideways at Luca, “But I’ve actually been looking at options in Canada.”

Luca choked on his food. His fork fell to his plate with a loud clunk.

“Woah, you okay, Buddy?” Shane asked from across the table. 

“Here, drink some water.” Ilya handed him his cup of water as he coughed. He took a careful sip.

“Canada?” Luca finally managed to ask. 

“Uh, yeah.” Sophia looked down at her plate, pushing around some of the food there.

“No, that’s not happening.” Luca shook his head. The rest of the table went silent at his tone which came across far more harsh than he intended it to.

“What? Why not?” Yuna jumped in, completely ignoring the awkward tension. Luca looked at her from across the table and then over at Sophia who was glaring back at him.

“There’s plenty of good schools in Canada, Luca.” Sophia said between gritted teeth. She clearly didn't want to be having this conversation in front of everyone. Luca knew she would've slipped into French if it had granted them some privacy in that moment, but that wasn't the case in the Hollander household, so she toughed it out in English.

“Sophia–” Luca started.

“McGill is a great school.” David offered, trying to defuse some of the tension between the pair.

“Dad, not now.” Shane placed a warning hand over his dad’s.

“Sophia, you could go to any school that you want and you’re going to choose Canada?” Luca asked before he could stop himself. He quickly turned to the Hollanders, “Not that there’s anything wrong with Canada.”

“No offense taken.” Shane interjected before either of his parents could say anything.

“I want to be closer to you.” Sophia insisted.

Luca’s heart panged in his chest. He wanted that too, obviously. 

“Yeah but it would take so much longer and we both agreed that was a waste of time.” Luca countered.

This wasn’t the first time that they’d had this conversation. Sophia had briefly floated the idea back in September, sort of as a joke, after Luca made the roster. Even then, Luca had shut it down. It just didn’t make sense. In Canada, you had to complete an undergraduate degree before you could go to medical school, followed by residency. In Europe, you could go directly into medical school. It was just faster and cheaper, but Luca didn’t bring up that point. Money wasn’t really an issue now.

“I think it’s great that you’re looking at Canadian schools, Sophia.” Ilya said.

“Thank you, Ilya.” Sophia replied. She glared over at Luca who was too busy glaring at Ilya to notice, “At least someone is supportive.”

Luca wasn’t necessarily mad, just frustrated, as he took a more cautious sip of his drink. They would have to continue this conversation later when they didn’t have an audience. David quickly changed the topic to talk about the season; Shane was having a good run with the Voyageurs and so were the Centaurs, to everybody’s surprise. Ilya made an off-handed comment about how his hard work was finally paying off which seemed to make Shane feel a certain way as he stopped eating to stare at Ilya from across the table. Ilya wouldn’t meet his gaze as he kept shoveling food into his mouth.

“And Crowell has left you alone?” Yuna asked casually after Shane had finished telling a story about the brutal practice his coach had run them through just a few days before.

“Mom.” Shane said in a warning tone. 

Luca furrowed his eyebrows, “Roger Crowell? The Commissioner?” 

Ilya’s eyes flickered over to Shane. They were both tense, only adding to Luca’s confusion.

“Did something happen?” Luca asked hesitantly. Yuna frowned between the guys as Shane pulled at the collar of his shirt. 

“You didn’t tell him?” She whispered, almost as if Luca couldn’t hear her from across the table. 

“No, Mom. We didn’t.” Shane muttered. He was curt, unimpressed, as his grip tightened on his glass. Before Luca could ask for clarification, Ilya let go of a shaky breath beside him.

“Basically the Commissioner called Shane in for a meeting back in, what–November?” Ilya looked over at Shane for clarification.

“Yeah, something like that.” Shane supplied feebly.

“And he told Shane that he didn’t want him to come out publicly.” Ilya explained.

“That’s awful. I’m so sorry, Shane.” Sophia immediately said. Luca frowned.

“Wait, how did he even know?” Luca asked before he could let himself dwell too much on the emotions that were rising in his chest.

“Well, my team knows. So I guess from there, the rumours have spread.” Shane sipped on his ginger ale and looked at Ilya over his glass. The muscles in Ilya’s jaw were set as he focussed on his own plate. 

“You’re out to your team?” Luca asked suddenly. He tried to think back to the first time he’d met Shane–-well, really met him, not just on the ice. They’d only told a handful of people about their relationship, but they hadn’t said anything about being out in general. Luca had just assumed they were still closetted. He turned to Ilya, “Wait, but Ilya, you–”

“I haven’t told the guys, no.” Ilya’s tone was firm. It sucked the air out of the room. Luca glanced between Shane, who looked like a sad dog who had just done something wrong, and Ilya, who was practically emanating heat from beside him. He’d clearly struck a nerve.

Sophia cleared her throat, “Well, I’m sorry. You both deserve better. This league would be nothing without you.”

She wasn’t wrong but Luca almost flinched when she reached under the table to grab hold of his hand. It was a comforting pressure as his thoughts swirled. Yuna hummed along in agreement and David leaned over to top off Ilya’s glass of vodka. The two guys just sat in an uncomfortable silence as Luca tried to understand why they wouldn’t tell him something like this. He was starting to see cracks in their relationship that he hadn’t known existed. Maybe that was intentional, keeping him out of things, protecting him from the reality of it all. It wasn’t his business after all. 

“Okay, well I think we should go play some boardgames.” David clapped his hands together, waiting for someone else to say something. Nobody did.

After they'd cleared the table and cleaned up a bit, the four of them were wearing matching Christmas pyjamas that Yuna had picked out for them. It seemed to be a tradition, Luca suspected, as they all posed for photos in front of the tree. Everyone was smiling–-after Yuna threatened them within an inch of their life–-and Luca was trying his best to enjoy it all. He really was happy, just slightly annoyed, as he wrapped his arms around both Ilya and Sophia.

“That’s really cute.” Yuna smiled at her phone as David peeked over her shoulder. Once she was done, they all quickly removed their arms from one another and found their seats around the ottoman for a game of Catan; Monopoly was quickly vetoed by both Sophia and Luca after their game earlier that day, when Ilya offered services in lieu of money to the banker, Shane. Luca chuckled to himself as they started setting up pieces.

“What?” Ilya asked him as he flipped over the tiles.

“I just think it's funny that we–-a group of notoriously competitive people–-are going to play a game of Catan to make everyone get along.” Luca snickered. Everyone laughed. It ended up going well.

///

Christmas morning came and went in a blur. Luca and Sophia got up early to make a full breakfast spread with David. Ilya hadn’t slept very well the night before; he and Shane had been snipping at one another since dinner the night before and it was eating away at him. When he finally decided to get up, he caught the three of them dancing around the kitchen to Christmas music as they each assumed their own responsibilities. Ilya was no help at all as he poured himself a cup of coffee and kept stealing the bacon that Sophia was cooking. She snapped the tongs at him, nearly taking his finger off, in his last attempt to steal bacon. He simply laughed at her as Shane finally joined them in the kitchen. He tried not to let his boyfriend’s solemn, sleep-deprived expression get to him as they sat for breakfast.

After they’d all eaten more than they could handle–-well, everyone but Shane, who was still sticking to his performance enhancing diet even on the holidays–-they retreated to the living room to exchange gifts. Ilya hung back in the kitchen as Shane attempted to spoon out pomegranate seeds into a bowl. He walked over to the fridge to grab the carton of eggnog, then carefully grabbed a glass from the cupboard beside Shane’s head and poured out a diligent portion for himself. Shane stiffened at the sight of it. He was waiting for Shane to say something about it.

“What?” Shane asked testily.

“No lecture?” 

Shane slammed the pomegranate down on the cutting board. Juice flew everywhere.

“Would you please fuck off? I don’t give a shit what you or anyone else eats, Ilya.”

Ilya snorted. “This is not true. You bitch at me all the time.”

“Because you always start it!”

Ilya didn’t reply, instead he just gulped down the glass of eggnog, all the while maintaining eye contact with Shane. A muscle tightened in Shane’s jaw as he watched him. When he finished it, he placed the glass down on the counter, and made an obnoxious, “Ahhh!” sound.

Shane just ignored him, turning to grab a dish cloth to wipe up the pomegranate juice he’d gotten all over the counter.

“Come to the living room when you are done, yes?” Ilya called over his shoulder.

“I know where we exchange presents on Christmas.” Shane said between gritted teeth. Ilya shook out his hands as he went to sit beside Luca on the floor.

“Everything okay?” Luca asked.

“Da. Here, this one is for you.” Ilya reached for one of the presents and handed it to Luca who smiled hesitantly back at him.

The gift exchange went as well as Ilya hoped it would. Sophia loved the Lu Lu Lemon gift cards and the Canadian candy they’d gotten her, but the real hit was the signed Rozanov jersey. She turned a deep shade of crimson when she opened it. Ilya insisted that they took a photo together which Sophia only partially grumbled about before she slid the jersey over her head. She stood in between a very smiley Ilya and a frowning Luca as Shane snapped the photo; both Ilya and Luca shared the photo on their story, albeit with very different captions. Luca loved his assortment of art supplies; drawing pencils, canvases, and paints that Ilya had sourced from the best art stores he could find. 

Yuna and David were touched when Luca gifted them a staycation at a fancy Nordic spa in Quebec. They, much like Ilya had told him ahead of time, insisted that Luca didn’t need to get them anything but Luca brushed it off. 

“I wanted to.” Luca smiled over at them as they looked at the spa's website on Yuna’s phone. 

Ilya blinked back a few tears as Luca gifted Sophia a stethoscope engraved with her initials. She joked that it was far too soon for this type of gift, that she hadn’t even been accepted into medical school yet, but Luca didn’t care. He was proud of his little sister and he made sure to remind her of that as they hugged one another.

“Okay, my turn!” Ilya clapped happily as he turned to Luca. 

“Yours kind of go as a set.” Luca admitted sheepishly as he slid a giftbag in between Shane and Ilya. 

There were two picture frames inside, each wrapped in tissue paper. They carefully unwrapped them at the same time and Ilya’s lip trembled as he looked down at it. It was a beautiful drawing of Shane, leaning over in a face-off position, from their first ever photoshoot together. He leaned over to look at the picture that Shane was holding to find that his suspicions were confirmed; it was a drawing of Ilya in the same position, from the same photoshoot. When you put them beside one another, it formed the whole photo.

“Oh Luca, those are beautiful.” Yuna gasped as they spun them around to show everyone else. 

“You can decide who wants which one.” Luca beamed over at them.

“This is so sweet. Thank you, Luca.” Shane stood up and pulled Luca into a hug. Ilya smiled, teary eyed, down at the drawing of Shane. He traced a thumb along Shane’s cheekbone. So much had changed since that photoshoot and yet, not enough. 

“Do you like it?” Luca asked quietly as he looked down at Ilya. Ilya snapped his head up to look at him, suddenly realizing that he’d been silent since unwrapping it. He immediately stood up and pulled Luca into a tight hug as well.

“I love it. Thank you, mishutka.” Ilya whispered. Luca deflated under his touch.

The rest of the day was boring and perfect. Ilya found himself baking cookies with David in the kitchen while Shane and Luca went down to the local pond for an afternoon skate. Sophia and Yuna were tucked into the couch, chatting quietly over a cup of tea as Ilya walked in to join them. They barely glanced his way as they continued with their conversation.

“It’s kind of awkward at home right now.” Sophia admitted as she stared down at her mug, “I think they know I want to come here for school but no one is talking about it. I feel like I’m just biding my time.”

“Would they be supportive if you came here for school?” Yuna asked gently. She had one hand resting on Sophia’s knee, offering comfort, as the girl nodded to herself.

“No, they want me to stay in Europe. Makes it easier to control me,” She chuckled dryly. Ilya stood up a bit straighter as he leaned against the doorframe, bringing his arms to cross over his chest protectively, “They told me about a month ago that they wouldn’t pay for anything if I decided to come here for school.”

“I’m sorry, honey. That’s not fair to you.” Yuna tutted. No, it wasn’t fair. 

Ilya had so many questions about their home life--about Luca’s childhood. Luca hadn't talked about his family much, which Ilya respected but he was still curious. Were they mean? Were they abusive? Did Luca feel loved as a child? Supported? Why did they not care when Ilya first reached out to Sophia about Christmas? Did they have a problem with it and Sophia just didn’t share that part? They didn’t want to talk to Ilya about any of it, even though he’d offered to hop on a call and introduce himself properly, so he figured that everything was fine. Maybe they were busy. Luca did say they were busy a lot.

Ilya had so many questions. He wanted to know everything so that he could make it better–-so that he could offer support and guidance. He’d talked about his own childhood many times in the hopes that it would give Luca a safe space to do the same. He wanted Luca to feel seen in whatever struggles he kept locked away in his brain. Ilya prepared himself for whatever that may be but now, with Sophia offering a small glimpse into their upbringing, Ilya felt a sort of tension taking shape in his chest. He took a deep breath to calm himself down.

“I don’t really want them to pay for it anyways. Just makes it easier when I inevitably go no-contact.” She shrugged like it was the simplest thing she had ever said. It made Ilya’s heart hurt. He remembered being seventeen and having those same thoughts; in hindsight, he was too young to be carrying that sort of burden. That only felt more true seeing Sophia now. She fiddled with the handle of her mug just as Luca did when he was nervous. Ilya wanted to give her a hug but Yuna was there, rubbing a reassuring thumb across her knee. He was glad that she had Luca, and now the Hollander-Rozanov clan, to support her through it. He just hoped she knew that.

“There’s always scholarships, we could look into that.” Yuna offered as she squeezed Sophia’s knee. She looked down at her hands. Ilya could tell that Sophia hadn’t absorbed Yuna’s words. 

“Luca would pay for it.” Ilya finally spoke up.

Sophia snapped her head in his direction. Something flashed across her face--fear, confusion? Suddenly Ilya wondered if she had heard him walk in. The last thing he wanted was to intrude, which must've been written across his expression as Yuna sent him a reassuring smile. 

“Absolutely not. I'm not letting him do that.” Sophia recovered.

Ilya wondered just how much Sophia knew about Luca’s finances. Her tuition would barely make a dent into his rookie contract, let alone the raise he was bound to get in the next year or two.

“Ok then I will pay for it.” Ilya shrugged.

Sophia’s eyes went wide.

“Ilya–” Yuna started.

“The first batch of cookies are done. Do either of you want one?” Ilya quickly changed the topic. He wasn’t about to let Yuna talk him out of something that he wanted to do. 

Sophia opened and closed her mouth multiple times, unsure what words wanted to come out. Yuna sent him a look--a we will talk about this later look--but then she suggested that he bring a plate out for them. He slipped back into the kitchen without another word. 

If having Sophia here meant that much to Luca then he would make it happen. He knew that neither Sophia nor Luca would let him pay for her schooling, exactly, but it wouldn’t stop him from trying. Maybe if he spent a bit more time with Sophia then he could convince her it was a loan; a loan that would suddenly disappear by the end of her degree. He’d have to call his accountant after the holidays.

Just as Ilya was plating some cookies, Shane and Luca bounded through the back door. 

“It smells amazing in here!” Luca sighed as he walked towards Ilya. He quickly nicked a cookie from the plate and popped it into his mouth happily. Ilya chuckled at him.

“How was the ice?” David asked as he leaned back against the counter, cup of coffee in hand. 

“Good! Shane taught me a new trick shot.” Luca said in between mouthfuls of cookies.

“He picked it up within like five minutes.” Shane smiled proudly over at him. He walked past the cookies without so much as a glance in their direction, straight to the pot of hot coffee. He poured a mug for himself, with no added cream or sugar, and sipped on it silently as Luca enthusiastically explained the trick shot to David. 

Ilya never took his eyes off of his boyfriend. He wouldn’t say anything, not after their tiff earlier that morning, but it still hurt to see him like this. He wanted to reach out, to smooth the tension from his shoulders, but something kept him in place. A stubbornness, perhaps, or maybe a lingering sadness in his gut. There was still a small glimpse of hope in his chest, irrespective of everything else that hung between them, that maybe Shane would agree to join him for Bood’s Boxing Day party the following day. Maybe he would come around to the idea of telling more people about them.

Shane caught his eye from across the kitchen and a small blush crept up onto his cheeks. He smiled down at his coffee and then over at Luca who had broken out into a story about their last game against Edmonton.

Ilya knew that they had so much to talk about as he let himself fall back into the conversation. He just wanted one more peaceful day with his family. That conversation could wait until tomorrow.

///

On Boxing Day, Luca decided to take Sophia sightseeing in Ottawa. He wanted to give Ilya and Shane some privacy on their last day off, before they would all go to Bood’s party. It wasn’t really a party, at least not that Luca could gather, more of a friendly gathering with all of the guys and their spouses. And Sophia. And potentially Shane, if that conversation with Ilya went well today. He silently hoped it would. Luca was equally excited and anxious for Ilya as he took Sophia to all of the hot spots in the city. 

They’d just finished up at Parliament Hill and were headed to the National Gallery when they decided to stop for lunch at a small cafe. Sophia sipped absentmindedly on her coffee as she glanced around the room. It was a sunny winter day, busy out in the tourism areas, and Luca had been stopped a handful of times to take photos with fans. They were polite but it still made Luca feel weird. He just wanted some alone time with his baby sister; as Luca and Sophia, not as the famous hockey player, Luca Haas. Sophia didn’t seem to mind though. She would happily offer to take photos for the fans and speak to them in French. Sophia was always much more social than Luca was, and much more confident, which he liked about her. She seemed to be enjoying their day together so as he stared at her from across the table and saw a line form between her eyebrows, he cocked his head to the side.

“What’s up?” He asked.

She snapped her head to him and hummed in response, eyebrows shooting up in surprise as he brought her out of her thoughts.

“You’re thinking about something.” He supplied. It was always dangerous when Sophia thought for too long. She could drive herself mad if she tried hard enough.

“Just thinking about life here.” She sighed and looked back at a table across the room. Luca followed her gaze. It was a group of friends sitting together, laughing and exchanging stories with one another. One of them was wearing a McGill sweater while another had a University of Toronto tote bag. They seemed happy, Luca thought to himself, as he looked back at Sophia across the table. He already knew where her mind was taking her.

“Does it scare you?” He prodded. She shook her head without hesitation.

“It’s exciting.” She smiled over at the group, “Plus, I’d get to be closer to you. That’s what I really want.”

Luca returned her smile, although a bit more hesitant. The truth is he wanted nothing more than for Sophia to be closer to him; to be able to drive down to her whenever his schedule allowed, help her move into her first apartment, get to say goodnight to her at a normal time for once. But he didn’t want her life to come at the expense of his. They’d already sacrificed so much living in the shadows of their parent’s professional lives, he didn’t want to do that to Sophia too. She deserved to have her own life, make her own decisions, irrespective of him. He would find her. He would be there for her, regardless.

He reached across the table and placed both of his hands over hers, which were still wrapped around her cup of coffee.

“I want you to live your life. Do the things that you want to do. You know that, right?” Luca asked nervously.

“I know, Luca. I want to do this.” She reassured him by taking hold of his hands. He sent her a tight-lipped smile which she returned with a toothy smile of her own, nodding to reassure him that she really wanted to move to Canada. He let go of a shaky breath.

“Okay. Well, I would love for you to move to Canada.” His chest felt a little lighter as she squeezed his hands and danced around happily in her chair.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She squealed. Luca chuckled at her. As if she needed his permission to do any of this.

She broke out into a long ramble about all of the research she’d done so far and what schools she was most interested in, comparing the pros and cons of each. In her excitement she would switch between French and English, depending on which language came to her brain first, and Luca just watched on in admiration. She’d clearly given a lot of thought to this and it made him smile so wide that his cheeks were starting to hurt by the time she’d finished. 

“And then I can come to so many of your games! I’ll have to choose between my Haas and my Rozanov jersey though, depending on which one of you is nicer to me that week.” She added with a cheeky smile.

Luca rolled his eyes jokingly. She had been making this same joke since Ilya first gifted her the jersey; which was Luca’s idea, he had to remind them, as they just laughed at him. He still wasn’t sure what jersey she’d be wearing at their game the next day and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him a bit nervous. The guys would never let him live it down if she showed up in a Rozanov jersey.

“Anyways, when am I going to meet Eric? Will he be there tonight?” She peered at Luca over her coffee cup.

Luca just glared back at her, “Sophia.”

“What?” She asked innocently. A small grin spread across her face, “I just want to meet my brother’s best friend.”

“Sophia.” He repeated, this time a bit more defeated.

“Okay, okay.” She caved and switched to Swiss German this time, “Do you want to talk about it though?”

Her seamless ability to switch into their third language made his head spin. Luca cleared his throat and peered around the cafe. Surely there would be no German speakers here.

“I don’t know.” He slipped into the language with a bit more difficulty. It had been awhile since he’d spoken Swiss German and it took a bit for his brain to wake up, “He gave me a Christmas gift.”

Her eyebrows shot up, “Oh?”

“Yeah. A stuffed animal.” His cheeks tinted a light shade of pink. Sophia just smiled.

“That’s really…sweet?” She guessed. Luca glanced out of the window to try and tame his smile. He really shouldn’t get too excited about it all. He was sure that Eric had gotten his girlfriend something much nicer, probably more expensive, too. But would it have been as sentimental?

His smile faltered, “I can’t go there.”

“Why not?” Sophia asked, matching his expression.

“He has a girlfriend, Sophia. I can’t have a repeat of Sebastian.” He sighed and finally met his sister’s gaze.

She looked worried, her eyebrows knitted together again, as she studied his face. He could tell that she was going into fix-it mode; it’s something he’d seen her do countless times over their childhood. He was the older brother, the protective leader of the both of them, but she could hold her own. Sophia had supported him through a lot over the course of their childhood; she was there to pick up the pieces when it came to Sebastian’s abrupt exit from his life, which he wouldn’t necessarily consider as a breakup, but it was the closest thing he could compare it to. It didn’t hurt anymore. It wouldn’t hurt nearly as much as a similar fate with Eric.

Sophia sat up a bit straighter, “Okay, what hurts more: pretending that Eric doesn’t exist for the rest of the season, potentially until the end of your contracts, or the idea of you just being his friend?” 

Luca mulled it over. Both options sucked, but one sucked more.

“I don’t think I can pretend he doesn’t exist.” Luca exhaled loudly. He nervously glanced around the cafe again to make sure that no one could understand them. No one was looking at them, at least, so he turned back to face Sophia.

“Then you need to find a way to just be his friend.” Sophia insisted.

“You think I don’t know that?” Luca rolled his eyes and glanced out the window again, “I’ve been trying.”

“Well, then try harder.” Sophia shrugged. Luca groaned and stuffed his head in his hands. He wanted to scream or find a way to relieve some of the tension that he was holding in his shoulders. Sophia sighed and gently pulled on his wrists until he was no longer covering his face.

“There is a third option, you know?” 

He looked up at her stubbornly, “And what is that?”

“You could be honest with him.” She managed a small smile. Luca’s eyes widened.

“Are you fucking crazy?” His brain short-circuited back to English as he whisper-yelled at her.

“Sometimes, yes.” She giggled and sat back triumphantly in her chair.

“Sophia, if I do that there is no coming back. Everything would be different.”

Sophia shrugged, “It would be different, yes, but maybe it would be a good different.”

“Don’t be like Ilya.”

“Ilya has eyes. I have eyes. There’s something there.” Sophia reasoned.

“Sophia.” Luca warned.

“Okay, okay,” She put her hands up in mock surrender, “I’ll drop it.”

And she did, but Luca didn’t, as his brain swirled with the impossibilities of being with Eric. It wasn’t healthy, he knew that, but he couldn’t help it. 

When they were finally done with their day of sightseeing, Luca drove them back home. They sang along loudly to the new Miley Cyrus album for the whole drive, giggling together as Sophia dramatically performed the songs into a fake microphone. Sophia only turned down the music when they pulled into the driveway.

“Was Shane leaving today?” She asked as she glanced over at the empty spot in the driveway.

Luca swallowed, “No. Not until tomorrow.” 

“Maybe they went out somewhere?” Sophia offered, not fully convinced of her own suggestion. They didn’t go out together, especially not in the fleeting moments they had alone. Sophia seemed to understand that as they quietly walked into the house. 

“Ilya?” Luca called out into the dark house. 

They slipped off their shoes and hung their coats in the closet. Ilya’s winter jacket was still there but there was an empty hanger where Shane’s coat should be. Luca’s heart dropped at the sight of it and he politely asked Sophia to wait in the living room as he went to find Ilya. He grew more and more concerned as he walked up to Ilya's bedroom. He knocked quietly a couple times before letting himself in. Ilya was there, curled up on the bed in the fetal position as he hugged a pillow. He turned his head slightly to acknowledge Luca as he walked in. Luca sensed that Ilya already knew it was him. He closed the door quietly behind himself and walked a bit further into the room, not quite sure whether Ilya wanted him there.

“Hey, Ilyusha.” Luca greeted gently. 

He sat on the edge of the bed and studied the man. Ilya seemed unphased by Luca’s proximity as he stared off into space. His eyes were bloodshot, cheeks damp, as he laid there in silence. Luca had seen a sad Ilya Rozanov before but never anything like this. He had never seen the large man look so small and defeated. The conversation with Shane clearly hadn’t gone well.

“Are you okay?” Luca asked after a long moment of silence.

Ilya stayed silent. He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and sat there with him in a heavy silence. Luca would sit there with him for as long as he needed him to. Even if Ilya didn’t say anything, he didn’t want to leave him alone. He chewed away at the inside of his lip as he stared off into space with Ilya, the two of them lost in their own thoughts about the holidays and their lives. It has been a lot lately.

Ilya’s voice was hoarse when he finally spoke up, “I don’t think I am going to Bood’s party.” 

“That’s okay, we don’t have to go. I can make us some dinner–”

“No.” 

Luca glanced sideways at Ilya.

“No?” 

“You go. Introduce Sophia to the guys. I want to be alone.” Ilya didn't look at him when he spoke, just continued staring straight ahead at nothing.

“Ilya, I’m not leaving you here.” Luca tried.

“I want to be alone.” Ilya repeated himself. Even in his sadness his tone was firm. It nearly made Luca flinch. 

Luca didn’t want to go. He didn’t like it when Ilya was sad and he made a promise to Shane to never leave him alone when he was like this. But Shane wasn’t here. Shane had left him like this and Luca was completely out of his depth. 

Luca only hesitated for a moment before he nodded solemnly to himself and walked over to the door. He hesitated in the doorway and looked back at Ilya one last time. He still wouldn’t meet his eyes--still transfixed on the empty space ahead of him.

“Please text me if you need anything. I'll come right home.” Luca offered.

When Ilya didn’t respond, Luca shut the door. His brain protested with every step he took away from Ilya's room.

Don't leave him.

Stay home.

Call Shane.

He pushed those thoughts aside out of respect for Ilya.

They went to Bood’s party and it went well. Sophia loved meeting everyone and she quickly fell into a conversation with Cassie about her pregnancy. Luca watched her from across the room, nursing a ginger ale in his red solo cup, as Wyatt chatted his ear off about the gifts he’d given his nephew the day before. He hummed along politely but all he could think about was Ilya, laying in his bed at home all alone, sadness taking over every inch of his brain like a disease. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he quickly pulled it out, hoping it would be Ilya asking him to come home. It wasn’t.

Eric: Hey I know you’re at Bood’s right now, could you ask Cassie to text me back? 

Luca knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. They hadn’t talked much since Eric went back home for the holidays, just a quick Merry Christmas message back and forth. He trudged across the room to Cassie anyways.

“Hey Cassie, do you have your phone on you? Eric texted you.” Luca waved his own phone at her with a small smile.

“I swear that kid is always texting me. God forbid I don’t answer one,” Cassie chuckled to herself as Sophia handed her the phone from the coffee table in front of them, “It’s probably just about his flight.”

The smile on her face only widened as she looked down at the text.

“Did he miss his flight or something?” Sophia joked.

“No he, uh, wants to bring his girlfriend to the game tomorrow.” Cassie typed out a reply quickly. 

Some of the other wives around them giggled and made teasing remarks about how their relationship must be getting serious. Luca could feel Sophia’s eyes on him as he scanned the party. He didn’t dare look at her but he did have the strong urge to say, “I told you so.” Any small part of him that was encouraged to be honest with Eric about his feelings died right then and there.

“You’ll be there, right Sophia?” Wyatt’s wife, Lisa, asked kindly.

“Oh, yeah. It’ll be my first game.” Sophia said as she turned back to the group of women.

“Well you’ll have another youngin to hang out with then!” Cassie smiled between her and Luca, “Have you met Isabelle yet, Luca?”

Luca’s stomach churned, “Just in passing.”

He had met her the same day that Eric had. He tried not to dwell on that memory too much or the fact that they’d been dating for less than two months. Seemed awfully fast to be inviting her to games, integrating her into the Centaurs family, but Luca kept those comments to himself as he forced a smile.

“It’ll be nice to properly meet her.” Luca lied.

He was already dreading it.

Chapter End Notes

Page 237 of The Long Game if you wanna relive the heartbreaking fight...

Things are getting exciting with this fic, I'm so excited for the coming chapters hehehe!!!

Chapter 21: Back At It

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, December 2020

Luca was a bundle of nerves as they walked into the arena for their first game back. He tried to excuse it as the usual game day nerves but he knew better than that. Sophia tried her best to distract him as they walked through the hallways of the arena. She nudged his hip when she made a joke that he didn’t quite catch. He forced out an untimely laugh just as they reached the door to the family room.

Luca could see Eric through the small window in the door and he stopped dead in his tracks. He looked different; he no longer had the mop of brown hair framing his face, now he had a buzz cut, which only made his jawline look sharper. His deep brown eyes were twinkling even from across the room and he appeared visibly relaxed after just a few days spent back home. Eric always joked that the Ottawa air did him no favours–-that the west coast sea breeze was much better–-and Luca was starting to believe him. He looked beautiful.

“Luca?” Sophia came to stand in front of him, snapping his focus down to meet her worried eyes.

“Sorry, I–I don’t know if I can do this.” Luca’s heart was beating faster. His eyes darted back down the hallway from where they came, trying to think of an excuse to not have to go into the room. The sound of toddlers screeching and wives chattering on the other side of the door was not helping the anxiety that bloomed in his gut. 

“Look at me.” Sophia placed her hands on his shoulders which immediately drew his attention to her, “It’ll take two minutes. You say hello to her, introduce me, and then I will take over from there.”

Luca nodded along to her words.

“Okay. Two minutes.” He took a deep breath and Sophia pushed through the door. 

“Haasy!” Eric yelled from across the room as soon as they walked in. Some of the wives and girlfriends around the room turned to watch them as Eric ran over and pulled Luca into a big hug. He couldn’t help but laugh as he held onto Eric. 

“You’re bald.” Luca joked when Eric finally pulled away. 

“I am.” He smiled shyly and rubbed a hand over his head. His eyes lingered on Luca, taking him in for a moment before he snapped out of it and turned to Sophia, “And you must be Sophia! It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Sophia shook his outstretched hand eagerly, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Oh no.” Eric chuckled as he looked between the siblings, "Only the good things, I hope."

"I didn't realize there would be bad things." Sophia joked, grinning sideways at Luca. He ignored the warmth that crept up the back of his neck as Eric smiled over at him.

“Is Isabelle here?” Luca heard himself say. He couldn’t care less but he needed an excuse to get Eric to stop looking at him like that; like Luca was something special, like being apart for three days had meant as much to him as it had to Luca.

“Oh uh yeah, she’s just over here.” Eric stammered. 

They followed him through the room quietly, Sophia digging an elbow into Luca’s side as they did. Luca ignored her and instead forced a small smile on his face as Eric led them to a quieter corner where Cassie was sitting with her feet up. She was very pregnant; Luca wasn’t entirely sure how far along she was but she looked like she was ready to pop at any moment. He pushed that thought aside, it made him even more anxious than he already was as his eyes landed on Isabelle. She was smiling up at Eric like he hung all the stars in the sky. Maybe he did, Luca thought to himself, as Eric turned to him with a toothy smile.

“Isabelle, I want you to meet my best friend, Luca.” 

Isabelle was pretty, with curly brown hair and deep brown eyes. She was quite small, which surprised Luca as Eric was nearly his own height, and she wore an oversized Centaur’s bomber jacket with loose jeans and converse. She was pretty, Luca could acknowledge that, but that only made the pit in his stomach feel heavier as he forced a smile in her direction. 

“It’s so nice to properly meet you!” She smiled kindly at Luca, “Eric talks about you all the time.”

“I wish I could say the same." Luca chuckled dryly.

Isabelle's eyes widened at the words that had just come out of his mouth. 

"Luca," Sophia dug a harder elbow into his side as she chuckled nervously over at Isabelle, "Sorry, he's got a sick sense of humour. I'm Sophia."

Isabelle reluctantly shook her hand, clearly taken aback by Luca's comment. He knew that he should feel bad about it but he didn't. It was true. The only things he knew about this girl were that she's been dating Eric for all of two minutes and that she made a mediocre cup of tea. Eric shot him a pointed look as the girls chatted about the game. Sophia told Isabelle how much she loved her jacket and Luca tried not to roll his eyes. Of course Sophia was being her usual, charming self but he really didn’t need that right now. He needed her to hate this girl so that Luca was also justified in his feelings towards her. 

“So how are you feeling about the game tonight?” Isabelle's question brought Luca back into the conversation. Her eyes flickered nervously between Eric, who still had his arm snaked around her waist, and Luca, who was doing everything in his power not to run away from this conversation. 

“I’m feeling good about it." Eric said curtly. Luca avoided Eric's tense gaze as they all turned to him, waiting for him to answer the question. He couldn't even remember what Isabelle had asked so he just stood there, awkwardly glancing around the room that was filling with more people the closer they got to puck drop.

"I heard that Daniella Harper is singing the national anthem tonight?" Sophia offered in the uncomfortable silence.

“No way,” Isabelle gasped, “I love her!”

“Who?” Luca looked down at Sophia, confused.

“Daniella Harper. That girl that LaPointe is always talking about. She’s getting big on TikTok.” Eric offered instead, knowing that Luca was the furthest thing from chronically online. Luca just nodded slowly. He vaguely remembered LaPointe and Holmberg showing him some of her covers about a month ago. She was alright, Luca thought.

 “Do you think there’s a way that we could meet her tonight?” Isabelle pouted up at Eric. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” Eric smiled down at her. Luca hated it. He looked around the room at anything else that could possibly be more interesting. His eyes landed on the clock.

“I think I might head back and start my stretches.” He sighed and turned towards Sophia, “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

Sophia rolled her eyes at him, “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine here. Go.” 

She shoved him away with one final, warning look and Luca didn’t hesitate for another second. He politely said goodbye to Cassie, glanced at Isabelle with a wince of a smile, and headed back to the locker room before he could see Eric kiss Isabelle goodbye. He picked up his pace when he heard Eric follow after him--he really wasn't in the mood for a lecture about his attitude--and he pushed into the locker room to start his pre-game routine.

///

“Let’s give a warm welcome to Daniella Harper!” Coach Wiebe announced. The guys around the room cheered and smacked their sticks against the ground. LaPointe was the loudest of them all as she walked in with a big smile on her face. 

“Hello, thanks for having me!” She waved to the room of players. 

Luca averted his eyes as Coach handed her a clipboard with the starting line on it. Eric nudged him from his left, almost in a teasing way, but he didn’t dare look in his direction. He really couldn’t engage in any teasing at that moment; his shoulders had yet to relax from where they sat tucked under his ears after having met Isabelle. He just wanted to get this over with so that he could go play hockey and forget all about Eric for a minute. Unfortunately, that’s not what the universe had in store for him.

“Nice jersey, eh Haasy?” Dykstra joked from across the room.

Luca’s head snapped over to him and then back to Daniella. She was beautiful. She had long black hair that fell in waves around her shoulders, piercing green eyes, and an award winning smile. She was wearing a Centaurs jersey, just like all of their other pre-game visitors, but this jersey was different. It was his jersey.

There were snickers around the room as the back of Luca’s neck grew warm. He looked over at Ilya and Troy who were smirking at him, clearly enjoying this far too much. Luca bit down the scowl that threatened to rise on his face. This was the last thing he wanted to happen today.

Daniella looked over at Dykstra with a raised eyebrow, then to Harris who probably gave her the jersey just a few moments before. 

“Wait, I’m wearing a Harper jersey, am I not?” She questioned aloud and peered over her shoulder to double check that her own name was written across the back. She was fairly confident as she turned her back to the room and, sure enough, she was wearing a custom jersey with her name on it. There were a few murmurs and chuckles from around the room as she spun back around. Luca’s shoulders relaxed a bit.

“Does someone else wear the number two?” She questioned as she looked around the room. When she finally got to Luca she looked at his face and then down at the number plastered on his upper arm. She narrowed her eyes at him. 

“What’s your name, two?” She tucked the clipboard under her arms and squared herself towards him, one foot planted firmly in front of the other. The room fell silent.

“Luca Haas.” He replied confidently. 

“Well, Haas, you’re going to have to change your number because two is mine.” It was a joke but there was a sharp edge to her words. Luca’s eyes lit up as a series of, “Oohs!” flooded the room. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Eric shift slightly. 

Luca was entirely aware of Harris standing in the corner, phone held up, recording their entire interaction. He knew that whatever came out of his mouth next was sure to get a lot of traction online and maybe that's what Daniella wanted; it's why she was there, wasn't it? 

Luca liked her. She was fiery and it didn’t hurt that she was beautiful. A small grin rose to his face. 

He could work with this.

Fuck it.

“Or you could change your last name.” Luca shot back.

Daniella couldn’t stop the blush that rose to her cheeks as the locker room filled with hooting and hollering. The guys sounded equally shocked and impressed by his forwardness. Eric’s jaw hung open from beside him but Luca didn’t dare look away from Daniella as she shifted under his gaze.

“Atta boy, rook!”

“Haasy's got game!”

Daniella cleared her throat to settle the guys around the locker room and proceeded to announce the starting line up. Luca’s name was the last one she announced and her eyes lingered on him as she was shuffled out of the room. When everyone left the locker room and only the Centaurs remained, the teasing started.

“Geez, Haasy. I didn’t know you had it in you.” Bood chuckled. Luca grinned to himself as he stood up to grab his helmet and gloves from the department above his stall. 

Truth be told, he didn’t know he had it in himself either, but he was enjoying the new energy that radiated from the stall beside his own. Eric was unusually quiet as he fiddled with his laces. Luca smirked to himself and made his way out of the room, choosing to avoid Harris’ obvious frown as he fiddled with his phone. Luca didn't even care if he posted the video; he'd gotten exactly what he wanted already, anything else would just be noise.

He was entirely smug as he went to line up in the tunnel. Just as Luca was walking by, Ilya yanked him back by the collar of his jersey. He stumbled back into the taller man who held him there for a moment.

“I know what you are doing.” Ilya said under his breath. Troy glanced over his shoulder at them but Luca kept his eyes fixed on the ice rink straight ahead. Thankfully no one else was paying attention to them.

Luca scowled, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ilya loosened his grip on Luca’s jersey and Luca didn't give him a second glance as he walked up to the front of the line. When his name was called, he skated onto the ice with a new air of confidence. The hardness of his expression was forcefully replaced by a wide smile as he raised his stick to greet the fans. He managed to find Sophia sitting in the family section–-wearing her Haas jersey, of course–-and he waved at her. She was smiling wide from behind her phone which she was presumably recording him with. It only made Luca smile wider. He chose to ignore the girl sitting beside her as he turned to prepare for the anthem.

When Daniella came out to sing, Luca could’ve sworn she winked over at him. He averted his eyes to the ice, a small smile playing on his own lips, and he tried to get his head in the right mindset for the game. 

Luca had a great first game back. He got an assist in the first period and then a goal of his own in the second. To celebrate, he pointed into the stands where Sophia was sitting; it helped that Daniella and her entourage were sitting nearby. That simple misunderstanding seemed to send the arena into a frenzy and it only made Luca feel embarrassed for a brief moment as he skated back over to the bench. That feeling quickly subsided when Eric appeared visibly grumpy for the rest of the game. 

Good. Two can play this game but only one of them can win, and Luca loved winning.

///

Even though they lost the game, the guys wanted to go for a quick drink at Monks. Ilya was hesitant at first, he just wanted to go home and tuck into bed, forget all about the world for a little while. Luca had other plans. His anger stuck to him like a shadow as he pounded back drink after drink with some of the younger guys on the team. Ilya watched him from across the room, nursing the same vodka he ordered when they first arrived.

“Do you think we should do something?” Troy whispered from beside him. 

He had also been watching Luca throughout the night, pretending to listen to Harris and Sophia as they sat opposite them, lost in their own conversation. From across the bar, Luca and LaPointe were laughing at something that probably wasn’t even funny. Luca was barely standing upright at that point, either slouched against an equally drunk LaPointe or leaning against the bar for support. The dynamic was off, though, as they were missing their third musketeer.

Ilya glanced over at the corner booth where the rookies usually sat. Eric and Isabelle were cuddled on one side of the booth, giggling and casually chatting with one another, as Bood and Cassie sat across from them. Isabelle looked up at Eric with so much admiration but he didn’t seem to notice as he kept stealing glances at Luca. Ilya couldn’t quite tell if it was concern or envy painted across Eric’s face as he watched Luca get progressively more drunk throughout the night. Ilya sighed and slid out of the booth.

“Where are you going?” Harris asked suddenly. Him and Sophia were blissfully unaware of what was happening; Sophia was too busy showing Harris the trending TikToks from back home, giving him new ideas for the Centaur’s social media pages. 

“Just going to check on Luca,” Ilya sent them a tight smile, “Are you okay to stay here with Sophia?”

Harris agreed and Troy slid out of the booth after Ilya, the pair of them walking over to where their younger teammates were crowded around the bar. Ilya clapped a hand on Luca’s shoulder, a wide grin coming to his face. 

“Having fun?” He asked no one in particular.

“Rozy! You wanna do shots with us?” LaPointe slurred. Ilya glanced sideways at Luca who seemed a lot less happy to have him there. Holmberg was already ordering another round of shots from the bar and Ilya looked down at their empty glasses with pure disgust. They weren’t even drinking the good vodka.

“Luca, why don’t we get some air?” Ilya completely ignored LaPointe’s question. He squeezed Luca’s shoulder which made the boy scowl; he knew that he didn’t have a choice as Ilya steered him out the back door without another word. 

When they got out into the alleyway, there was a bartender out there, sitting on a milk crate smoking a cigarette. Troy gave him a pointed look and he immediately went back into the pub, giving the three of them some privacy. Luca turned around to face them with a shaky laugh.

“What is this, an intervention?” He asked the two men as they blocked his exit. When they didn’t say anything, he sarcastically added, “Should we call Comeau up too?”

There was no real bite to Luca’s words as he slumped against the brick wall opposite them, stuffing his hands in his pockets to bring them some warmth. His cheeks were a permanent shade of crimson red and his eyelids were heavy; Ilya wasn’t quite sure if it was from the alcohol or the sadness that he was trying, and failing, to hide. 

“We’re worried about you.” Troy spoke up first. 

“There’s no need. I’m fine.” Luca’s voice betrayed him, cracking on the final word. Ilya would usually tease him for that but instead he sent him a sad smile.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Luca snapped.

“Like what, Mitshutka?” Ilya asked calmly.

Luca glared at him, “Like you’re pitying me.” 

“I’m not pitying you, Luca.” Ilya sighed, “I’m just concerned. What happened at the game was…not you.”

He was trying his best to choose his words carefully, unsure what it might take to set Luca off. Luca just bitterly laughed and pushed himself a bit straighter on the wall.

“Not me. That’s rich,” Luca continued chuckling to himself, “What? Do I not get to date a hot girl? Is that only reserved for Eric?”

Ilya opened his mouth and closed it again. He wasn't sure what to say.

“Do I not get my Rose Landry?” Luca continued. His tone was sharp, venomous, which Ilya decided to ignore.

He’s just drunk, Ilya reminded himself, he’s not thinking straight.

“Hey, don’t say that.” Troy barked back.

Ilya wanted to thank him, to say something, but they'd never properly talked about Shane before. Troy had clearly put it together on his own but he still glanced sideways at Ilya to see his reaction. This was not the time to get into the details of his own love life. Instead Ilya just studied the way that Luca's lips twisted from a lazy grin into a trembling pout. Reality was finally hitting him.

“Fuck.” Luca cursed under his breath. He covered his face with his hands, rubbing aggressively at his eyes as he repeated the curse word over and over again. He slid down the brick wall and Ilya was beside him in an instant, holding onto the boy as he cried. It started quiet and then progressed into full on sobs, each one hitting Ilya like a personal blow as he held Luca through it all, rocking the both of them back and forth. 

Troy dragged the milk crate over to sit in front of them and placed a hand on Luca’s shoulder, offering some semblance of support as his own eyes glazed over. Ilya tucked his head over top of Luca’s and he pulled him closer against his chest.

They stayed like that for as long as Luca needed. Ilya whispered to him in Russian, reminding him that he was safe and loved, that he would be okay. Luca may not have understood him exactly but the sentiment was there. He slowly but surely stopped crying. 

“Is it always going to hurt like this?” Luca sniffled.

Ilya looked at Troy over Luca’s head. He wanted so badly to say no, that it got better, but he couldn’t find the words. Troy seemed to pick up on that as he slowly removed his hand from Luca’s shoulder.

“No, Haasy, it won’t.” Troy sounded earnest when he said it and Ilya wanted to believe him, he really did, but he wasn’t so sure. They were just three men who were navigating a world that wasn’t built for their love; the blind leading the blind, Ilya realized. 

“Don’t lie to me.” Luca sunk a bit deeper into Ilya's arms. He was defeated and exhausted. 

The men fell into a thick silence. There was nothing that they could say that would take away the pain that Luca was experiencing; the same pain that they all shared deep down. Ilya wished that he could make it all disappear--the homophobia, the media, the expectations. He wanted so badly for Luca to have a happy future, with Eric or whoever else he wanted, but he couldn't do that. Not when he was uncertain about the fate of his own future. 

He wasn’t talking to Shane. They’d briefly talked before their game against Buffalo and came to the conclusion that they should wait to have a conversation about everything the next time they saw each other in person. That wouldn't be for another couple of weeks and Ilya was already regretting it. He missed Shane. The pit of sadness in his stomach grew exponentially larger with every hour that passed. 

Truthfully, he was terrified. It’s not that he thought that Shane was going to leave him. Shane would never do that. He was terrified that the world would take Shane from him; that the outside noise would all become too much and Shane would finally come to the realization that he was better off without Ilya. He couldn’t tame thought even if he tried, and he really was trying--not just for himself but also for Luca. And Troy. And every other closeted player in this sport. If Ilya didn't think he deserved this then he would remind himself that the other guys did. It brought him a small amount of comfort.

Ilya hugged Luca a little tighter against his chest. He felt guilty for what had happened over Christmas. He suspected that it had changed a lot for Luca; he could now see the cracks in their relationship, cracks that Ilya had strategically been hiding from him. It’s not that he wanted Luca to think that everything was sunshine and rainbows, it obviously wasn’t, but he just wanted to give Luca some semblance of hope. 

He wanted nothing more than for Luca to believe that he could experience love if he wanted to. He wanted Luca to live in a world where falling in love with your best friend was the best case scenario; even if that best friend was your teammate, even if that best friend was a man. Ilya couldn’t change their reality, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he could. He could only do so much and it killed him.

The back door swung open and hit the wall with a clunk, causing Luca to flinch. Bood stood in the doorway and his face immediately fell when he saw the three of them on the ground.

“What’s going on?” His eyebrows pinched together.

“Nothing, Bood. Just go back inside.” Troy’s voice was hoarse which did little to convince Bood that everything was fine. 

“Did something happen?” He directed the question at Luca this time, completely ignoring Troy. Luca averted his gaze to the ground in an attempt to hide his damp cheeks. Ilya sighed and looked up at Bood.

“We’ve got this.” Ilya was calm but firm as he used his captain’s voice to catch Bood’s attention. Bood couldn’t take his eyes off of Luca. He searched his face for a moment and when he saw whatever he needed to see, he headed back inside. He caught Ilya’s eye as he pulled the door shut behind him. Ilya knew that he'd have to talk to Bood at some point but that was a problem for later on. 

When they were alone again, Ilya turned back to Luca. The young boy wiped at his cheeks furiously. He was clearly embarrassed.

Ilya rubbed his arm reassuringly, “What can we do to help, Mitshuka?” 

“Please just keep me away from Eric for a while. I thought I could do it but I can’t.” Luca admitted weakly.

“Consider it done.” Troy said. Luca sent him a half-smile.

“Let’s go home.” Ilya suggested. 

Luca nodded weakly and they slowly shuffled back into the pub. Ilya sent Luca straight to the door and went to collect Sophia. He thanked Harris for helping out and said a quick goodbye to the rest of their teammates. Bood watched them leave from where he was sitting again with his small family. He was worried, Ilya knew that, but he couldn’t handle that right now on top of everything else. He directed the two kids out of the pub and back to the car for a quiet drive home.

///

Sophia’s visit came and went in a blur. She was only there for a week seeing as her final semester was about to start. Luca dropped her off at the airport and he hugged her for a long time. She didn't seem to mind as she wiped a few stray tears away. Luca promised to fly back for her graduation in a few months and insisted that he'd talk to her everyday in the meantime. She threatened to fly back and kill him if he even thought about ghosting her again; he didn't consider his twenty four hours of silence back in San Jose 'ghosting', which only made Sophia raise her eyebrows at him sassily. He had to pinky promise her that he'd never do that again, anyways, just to get her on the plane. 

The same day that Sophia flew home the Centaurs flew south for their next roadtrip. They lost against Columbus and then Nashville in a gruelling overtime before heading down to Carolina. The guys were in a bit of a funk as they skated around the ice before the game. Luca was just trying to focus on the crisp air of the arena and the friction under his skates as his brain swirled with anxious thoughts.

He came to a stop at center ice and faced his team, scanning them all as they did their own stretches. Bood was taking light shots on net to get Wyatt ready for Carolina’s strong offense and Dykstra rolled up to squeeze some of Wyatt’s water into his mouth before Wyatt swatted him away with his stick. Eric and LaPointe were stretching together in one of the corners, chatting quietly together as they followed the same series of stretches. Luca averted his eyes just as the pair of rookies looked his way.

He had been successfully avoiding Eric since they left Ottawa. Ilya must’ve pulled some strings behind the scenes because Luca was now rooming with him and Eric had a room to himself. Some of the guys had noticed that they weren’t talking but no one said anything, at least not to Luca’s face. Maybe they were talking behind his back--or to Ilya or Eric--but what Luca didn’t know didn’t hurt him. He didn’t have the energy to think much of it anyways.

“You good, Haasy?” Troy came to a stop beside him. He shook his head to clear his brain fog and glanced sideways at Troy.

“Yeah, I’m good.” He forced a small smile.

Troy tapped his shin pads, “What do you say we make a bet tonight?”

There was a light behind Troy’s eyes that intrigued Luca. 

“What kind of bet?” 

“I bet you $100 that you can’t score in the first 5 minutes.” 

Luca smirked and quickly pulled off his glove, holding out his hand to Troy. The vet grinned down at him and shook his hand firmly.

“You’re on.” 

Luca scored not even 4 minutes after puck drop. He made sure to skate directly over to Troy after the buzzer sounded, pointing up at the clock dramatically, which Troy just laughed at him for. They went on to win the game 4-1 and the energy in the locker room afterwards was electric.

“Huge win tonight, guys,” Coach Wiebe walked in with a wide smile, “I’m proud of you. Luca with a beautiful goal to start us off? Two from Barrett? Massive saves from Wyatt? A goal and two assists from our captain? Can’t ask for more than that. Love it.”

Luca smiled down at his skates as the guys roared all around the room. He almost forgot about the awkward tension between himself and Eric when he knocked his knee against Luca's.  Luca glanced sideways at him and Eric sent him a tight-lipped smile. A silent congratulations on a good game.

It was something. Luca would take it.

“Alright,” Coach Wiebe clapped his hands together once, “Let’s go to Florida, folks!”

The room erupted in cheers.

The guys were rowdy all the way to the plane. Dykstra and Chouinard blessed them with a very screechy rendition of an old Shania Twain song on the bus ride to the airport. Luca had to plug his ears every so often with how loud they had turned up the microphone. He loved it all the same, and sang along with his teammates the whole way.

When Luca got on the plane he figured he’d just saddle up next to Ilya, maybe put on a movie for the both of them and fall asleep for a little bit. That’s not what ended up happening as Ilya dropped his bag in the empty seat beside him just as Luca got on the plane. He pouted down at it.

“Sorry, Mitshuka. Not tonight.” Ilya sent him a small smile. Before Luca could say anything he felt a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Haasy.” Bood directed him to the back of the plane where Eric was already sitting. He had his noise cancelling headphones tucked over the beanie that sat low on his forehead. His eyes were glazed over as he looked out the window at the baggage guys loading their gear into the compartment below them. 

“Wha-?” Luca tried to ask as Bood pushed him down in the seat next to Eric. He flinched at the sudden arrival of the two men and then he looked frantically between Luca and Bood, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“Okay so this flight is exactly,” Bood looked down at his empty wrist, “One hour and fifty-one minutes long. That is plenty of time for you to talk about whatever it is that is happening here.” 

Bood gestured between them which made Luca’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink. Eric had pulled one of his headphones away from his ear to listen to Bood but it still took him a second to catch onto what was happening. When Eric finally clued into what Bood had said, he glared up at him. 

“That’s a funny joke.” Luca chuckled nervously and went to stand up again. Another hand pushed him back down into the seat. Wyatt who was now blocking his exit.

“He’s right, Haasy!” Wyatt sighed, hand still firmly pressed into Luca's shoulder, “It’s weird with you guys not talking.”

“Ilyusha?” Luca called out to the front of the plane, trying to reason with him. 

“I can’t hear you, Luca, I’m watching a movie.” Ilya dramatically called back to him. Some of their teammates chuckled and Luca scowled. He didn’t even have his screen turned on yet.

“So you’ll talk?” Bood smiled hopefully down at the pair. It wasn’t exactly a question.

“Fine.” Eric grumbled. He tugged his headphones off and wrestled them into his backpack on the floor. 

Luca gulped. He glanced up at his vets who were both looking down at him with waiting eyes.

“Sure.” He sounded just as impressed with the situation as Eric did. 

“Perfect! Okay, we’ll give you some privacy.” Bood grinned. 

They walked back up the plane, redirecting any of their teammates from sitting too close to where Eric and Luca were situated at the very back of the cabin. They had at least three empty rows between themselves and their teammates. Everyone seemed to know what was happening as Luca caught the sneaky glances in their direction. Harris sent Luca a reassuring smile and thumbs up before he fell into the seat beside Troy and Bood was leaning over the seat in front of them, chatting quietly with Ilya from across the aisle. Even Coach Wiebe had glanced back at the pair when he finally got on the plane, clearly worried about the two of them as he pursed his lips together in contemplative thought. Luca wondered how many of them were in on this plan as he fidgeted with the strings of his hoodie. 

When the plane finally started to take-off, the two rookies had yet to say a word to one another. Luca took a few deep breaths to settle his heart rate. His nerves only climbed as the plane did. 

Two hours. That was a long time to sit in silence. It was more than enough time for his brain to convince him of all of the worst case scenarios that could come from this conversation; or worse, lack thereof. He wondered if the guys would scold him for going to throw up in the bathroom.

Luca couldn’t help but think about what their teammates knew. Had he been too obvious? Had Troy or Harris let something slip? No, surely not. No one knew what was actually going on between him and Eric; heck, Luca didn’t even know what was going on so surely no one else could. They just knew that he and his best friend had stopped talking since their holiday game. Their rift had definitely had an impact on the team and on their games, seeing as they had been on a losing streak lately. Until today, they hadn’t won a game since San Jose. Convenient. 

When the plane reached a plateau and the seatbelt sign turned off, Luca let go of a shaky breath. 

Well, it was now or never.

Chapter End Notes

I cannot tell you how many times I re-wrote of this chapter... but I hope you enjoyed it!

ALSO -- 100,000+ hits??? huh??? Thank you so much, I can't even wrap my brain around that number but I'm so grateful for the little community we've built around this fic <3

Chapter 22: Crash Landing

Chapter Notes

TW: mention of death/passive ideation of death, descriptions of an anxiety attack, plane crash, and smut.

Somewhere in the air between Raleigh and Tampa Bay, January 2021

“So,” Luca said after they had sat in an awkward silence for a solid ten minutes, “What do you want to talk about?”

Luca glanced sideways at Eric who looked like he hadn’t slept in days. There were bags under his eyes that Luca had never seen before and a dullness to his skin that was slightly concerning. His eyes were glazed over as he looked straight ahead which only made him look more like a zombie. Eric pulled his beanie a little further down his forehead when he realized that Luca was staring at him. 

He looked adorable and tired, but more than anything he looked angry. Angry at him. Luca gulped.

“Well we can start with why you’ve been avoiding me for the past week.” Eric mumbled.

Luca’s breath caught in his throat. That’s not exactly where he wanted to start this conversation. He was grateful for the rowdiness of their teammates who were still celebrating their win further up the cabin. The noise gave them a bit more privacy but not enough, as far as Luca was concerned. 

He lowered his voice, “Ilya’s just been having a hard time so I wanted to be there for him.” 

“Bullshit.” 

The muscle in Eric’s jaw tensed. It didn’t help that at that exact moment Ilya was waterfalling vodka into Dykstra’s mouth, a wide grin on his face. Luca scowled at them. Surely they didn’t have to treat their win against Raleigh like it was the fucking Stanley Cup.

“Listen, Eric,” Luca shifted so that he was facing Eric, “I’m sorry. I’ve just been going through it and I needed to figure out some of my own shit. I didn’t want to put that on you.”

It wasn’t a lie, exactly, far from it. He had been going through some shit. He just didn’t have the guts to admit to Eric that the shit he was going through was navigating his feelings for his best friend. There was no way he could admit to that in a metal box floating thirty thousand feet in the air; not when they still had an hour and a half left until they reached Tampa Bay.

Eric finally met Luca’s gaze. The intensity of his stare was intimidating to say the least. He searched Luca’s eyes as if he was able to pick apart every fold in Luca's brain like it was his own personal library. It terrified him. If Eric kept searching he might just find something that Luca wouldn’t be able to explain away. Eric’s eyes softened at Luca then--he'd found something.

Before he could say anything, the plane suddenly lurched. It caused all of the guys on board to yelp. Bood, who had just been dancing in the aisle a moment before, had fallen over. The guys all nervously laughed at him and he shoved Ilya as he clambered to his feet again, continuing where he left off. 

Luca looked down at his lap where Eric had instinctively grabbed ahold of his thigh. His heart ached when Eric cautiously slid it back over to his own lap, fiddling with his phone instead. 

“Sorry.” Eric mumbled and averted his eyes down to his hands.

“It’s okay.” Luca lied. 

He tried to ignore the tingling sensation on his thigh as they fell into a thick silence again. 

“Why don’t you tell me when you’re going through stuff?” Eric asked quietly, still turning his phone over and over again in his hands. End over end. 

“You don’t tell me when you’re going through stuff.” Luca countered.

There was an edge to his voice that he couldn’t curb. He hoped it wasn’t too obvious what he was referring to. When Eric slowly met his eyes again he seemed to understand. There was a flicker of sadness there.

“I’m sorry.” Eric admitted. Luca’s brows furrowed together ever so slightly as they stared at one another. He couldn’t look away, there were just so many emotions behind Eric’s eyes; sadness, grief, regret. 

“For what?” Luca asked. He couldn’t help it. He needed to know exactly what Eric was apologizing for before he went any further.

“For Isabelle.”

A loud bang made Luca jump out of his skin. The plane lurched again, more violently this time, and the guys all yelled out a series of curse words. The lights in the cabin flickered and the seatbelt sign turned on again with a loud beep. Luca fiddled with his seat belt for a moment, heart pounding in his ears, as silence filled the cabin.

Then the plane dropped. 

Everyone was screaming. Luca almost felt like he was dreaming, like his brain couldn’t quite compute what was happening in real-time. The only thing keeping him grounded in reality was the death grip that Eric had on his hand. Luca squeezed it back, tears streaming down his cheeks as he braced for something, anything. If this was how they were going to die then at least he was with Eric.

The plane shuddered and levelled out again. The sudden movement made Luca's head spin. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to settle the ringing in his ears, and when he resurfaced again he realized that the cabin had fallen silent. It was like the air had been sucked out of the cabin and everyone was just waiting for what came next. Luca refused to let go of Eric’s hand, it was the only thing keeping him sane in the agonizingly long moment of silence. Eric didn’t seem to have any intention of letting go anyways as he squeezed Luca’s hand so hard it started to turn white.

A voice came over the speakers. “We’ve lost an engine, but we have control over the aircraft. We will be making an emergency landing in Georgia. Prepare for a rough descent.” 

There were sobs coming from all around the plane. Luca hadn’t heard so many men crying in his life and it pained him to pick out each voice. Bood’s sobs were especially hard to hear; he was repeating over and over again how he would never get to meet his son. Eric let go of a shaky breath beside him.

“My grandparents. I need to message them.” Eric choked out. He quickly released Luca’s hand and fumbled with his phone, nearly dropping it in the process before he managed to slide it open. 

Luca did the same, wiping at his blurry eyes furiously so that he could see what he was doing. He immediately opened Instagram to his messages with Sophia. She’d sent him so many Reels, highlights from his game, that he hadn’t gotten to check before boarding the plane. He ignored all of them and started typing.

@luca_haas2 : Sophia

@luca_haas2 : I love you

@luca_haas2 : I’m so lucky that you’re my sister

@luca_haas2 : I’m so proud of you

@luca_haas2 : I want you to achieve everything you ever want in life

@luca_haas2 : I’ll always be with you

His heart skipped a beat when he saw the three bubbles pop up at the bottom of the screen. It was late in Geneva but not late enough for Sophia who was likely staying up late to work. She'd been taking advantage of her jet lag and trying to finish her Canadian university applications before the semester got busy. Luca's heart clenched in his chest. He wondered if she'd still want to study in Canada if he wasn't here anymore. He wiped at his nose as her messages came through.

@sophiaaa : ?

@sophiaaa : What’s going on?

@luca_haas2 : I love you

@sophiaaa : Luca you’re scaring me

He sobbed as he saw the last message come in. 

“There’s a fire out there!” Chouinard yelled from the middle of the plane, “The plane is on fire!”

Luca snapped his head to the windows across the aisle. He couldn’t see anything but the way that some of the guys were yelling made his heart pound harder. The flight attendant, who had put on a brave face amidst everything, was trying her best to calm them down. They all knew that she could do nothing about the engine being on fire but that didn’t stop Chouinard from pleading with her anyways. He had kids back home. A wife. 

Luca’s phone grew blurry as he typed out his final words to his sister.

@luca_haas2 : Don’t be scared. I'm okay.

@luca_haas2 : I love you so much.

Luca shoved his phone in his pocket so that he didn't have to read anything else. The plane dipped again and Luca yelped. 

Fuck. This was it. They were really going to die.

The young flight attendant rushed down the aisle calling out instructions to them; to remove your glasses, ties, and any jewelry around your neck. Luca refused to take off his glasses. If he was going to die then he was going to die as himself. He wanted to see it coming, to welcome it with open arms. He ducked his head against the seat in front of him, bracing for impact in the way that the flight attendant instructed them to.

A burning sensation crept up the back of his throat as he rested his forehead against the cool leather seat. He was crying more now and he tried to take steady breaths to calm himself. No matter how hard he tried it felt like his lungs just wouldn’t fill with air. He squeezed the headrest firmly. Maybe if the plane lurched again it would take him fast. 

From the front of the plane he could still hear his teammates crying. His heart pounded loudly in his ears which helped to block out the noise for a moment, but then he heard his name. Ilya was calling for him.

“Ilyusha?” Luca sobbed, trying to raise his voice louder than the other guys. Fuck. He wouldn't even get to say goodbye to Ilya. To thank him for everything he'd done for him. To tell him he loved him.

“It’s okay, Mitshuka. Everything is going to be okay. Just tuck your head in, okay?” Ilya called back. It’s not what Luca wanted to hear but he obliged and tucked himself against the seat a little tighter.

Eric assumed the same position beside him, chest heaving as he stared down at his phone in his lap. The texts he tried to send to his grandmother wouldn’t go through. Luca’s stomach churned at the realization. Eric was a wreck, snot coming out of his nose as he sobbed and cursed down at his phone.

“Hey, look at me.” Luca instructed. Eric squeezed his eyes shut and took another deep breath before he finally met Luca’s eyes. 

He hadn’t had a moment to look at Eric, to really look at him, up close and personal. His chin was shaded with a dark stubble, almost like he’d forgotten to shave it the past few days. It was patchy in places but it was more than Luca could ever imagine growing himself. What would he look like if he really tried to grow it out? How long would it take before it was smooth to touch? Luca kept his hand firmly gripped against the headrest to stop himself from tracing his fingers along Eric’s jaw. Instead, his eyes traced every part of Eric’s face. He wanted to commit it to memory; the freckle on the bridge of his nose, the small scar just above his eyebrow. How did he get it? Was it a hockey related incident? From climbing trees as a kid? His eyelashes were so long and curled, now, with the tears that had been pooling at the corners of his eyes. 

Eric was beautiful. Even with all of the tears, the flushed cheeks, and the snot bubbles that he wiped at furiously. He was absolutely beautiful.

“It’s just you and me.” Luca whispered. 

He felt a little calmer as he looked into Eric’s glossy brown eyes, everything else faded to the background. Eric nodded feebly, trying his best to believe Luca’s words, and he shuffled his hand across the headrest to grab ahold of Luca’s. Luca closed his eyes at the contact, trying to savour the warmth that came from Eric’s touch.

The cabin had fallen into a heavy silence as they fell from the sky. With every lurch and jerk of the plane, it made Luca flinch. He tried to focus on what he could control. On the sound of Eric’s choked breathing from beside him. On the way his hand was tingling under Eric’s touch. On the faint, musky smell of Eric’s deodorant that he always kept in his gym bag. 

He flipped his hand around to squeeze Eric’s reassuringly. The simple act seemed to give Eric a newfound confidence as he spoke again.

“I’m sorry, Luca, I’m so sorry.” Eric whimpered. Luca’s eyes popped open to meet Eric’s again. There was so much in them that Luca couldn’t read, “I’ve been so dumb and so scared, but none of that even matters now.”

“You’re not dumb, Eric.” 

It was a stupid confession but the sincerity of it got a choked laugh out of Eric. There was that smile that Luca loved. He couldn’t help but stare at Eric’s lips, they were the same as Luca always knew them; full and flushed, a deeper shade of pink where he’d been chewing on them just a few moments before. When he looked back up at Eric’s eyes again, he realized that Eric was staring at Luca’s lips too. Luca’s breath caught in his throat.

He could kiss him right now. It wouldn’t change anything. They would be dead soon; just two, twenty year old boys found wrapped around one another amidst the carnage of the plane crash. The headlines and the TikTok videos wouldn’t even matter. 

“I like you.” Eric blurted out.

Luca’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“I like you and it’s okay, you don’t have to say it back. Really, it’s fine.” Eric was rambling now, unable to meet Luca’s gaze as he pressed his forehead firmly against the seat in front of him. He’d pulled his hand away from where it was once clutched in Luca’s, “I know I fucked up and I’m so sorry. I was just so scared and confused. And I couldn’t lose you.”

Eric’s voice cracked on the last word and he squeezed his eyes shut. Another tear slipped down his cheek. Luca’s brain was having a hard time catching up to what Eric was saying. His body, on the other hand, was lit aflame; his palms were sweating, heart hammering impossibly harder against his ribcage, and a swarm of butterflies took off in his stomach for a whole new reason. 

Eric liked him. His best friend just said that he liked him. Did Luca hear him correctly? Surely he just meant it as friends.

“Eric–”

A muffled voice came over the speakers, warning them that they would be making a crash landing any moment now. The plane was shaking, somehow falling even faster, and there was screaming again. In their final moments, Luca rolled his head to the side to look at Eric, at the tears streaming down his face, his whole body tensed against the seat in front of them.

Luca reached over and squeezed Eric’s hand one final time, hoping that it conveyed everything that he was unable to say in that moment. He could’ve sworn that Eric squeezed it back. 

Then everything went black. 

///

Ilya was shaken from the plane crash just as much as everyone else was, but as he stood looking out at his teammates around the room, he tried his hardest not to show it. 

The team and coaching staff were gathered around the conference room of the hotel they were staying at in Tampa Bay. It had been a long day. After their crash landing on Georgia the team had received immediate medical attention. Everyone was fine, just a few scrapes and bruises here and there, which made it easy for them to charter a bus and drive the remaining few hours down to Tampa Bay. Luckily, the MLH and Tampa team had agreed to postpone the game by a day so that the boys could collect themselves. Not that it mattered much, Ilya suspected, they would still lose. At least they didn’t have to get in front of the cameras right away and pretend that everything was alright.

Ilya scanned the room silently. LaPointe was being held by Chouinard, who let him cry into his shoulder as he stared off into space. Wyatt sat at a table by himself, cradling his head in his hands, and Bood and Coach Wiebe walked around the room trying to comfort any of the boys who looked like they might crack. 

Luca had barely left Ilya’s side since they landed. He had fainted during the shaky descent and woke up dazed when the medics first boarded the plane. Once he’d been checked over and they boarded the bus, he’d saddled up against Ilya. He was just grateful to be able to hold him as Luca slept the whole way. He’d been texting Shane, trying to process what had happened while simultaneously reassuring his boyfriend that everything was fine. Shane immediately wanted to drive down to Tampa Bay, which they both knew wasn't possible, seeing as he still had a game to play in Washington. Not to mention it would take him thirteen hours to drive to them and by that time, the Centaurs would be off to their next destination. Instead they FaceTimed once the Centaurs arrived in Tampa Bay.

They cried a lot on the call. Ilya smoked his first cigarette in months which Shane didn’t say anything about. Luca didn’t either, as he was dragged into the call by Shane, who asked him so many questions about how he was feeling and if the incident had triggered any post-concussion symptoms. 

Back in the conference room, Ilya cleared his throat. Only some of his teammates looked up at him.

“We are safe.” He started. Slowly his teammates all turned to give him their full attention, the only sound being some light sniffles around the room.

“We are alive.” He continued, unsure where this speech was headed, “We have been given a second chance at life. I don’t know about you but I do not take that lightly.”

He clutched onto his mother’s crucifix tightly. Luca sent him a sad smile from where he was sitting a few feet away.

“We take today and tomorrow to grieve. To call our families, to cry, to let all of the emotions hit us. And then the next day, when we get back on the ice, we turn those emotions into motivation. We use them to fuel ourselves. To show everyone why we are the greatest team in the league.” 

His voice cracked and he had to turn away from the team to collect himself. When he turned back again he saw the determination slowly start to wash over his teammate’s faces.

“I love you all. We are in this together. Always.” 

He decided that was good enough and by the looks on the guys’ faces, they thought so too. They tucked into the dinner that their nutritionists had organized for them and fell into somber conversations around the room. Ilya had to nudge Luca to remind him to eat. He did so unwillingly as Ilya placed a gentle hand on the back of his neck and gave it a firm, reassuring squeeze.

Ilya knew Luca was still struggling, much like many of the other guys around the room, but he also knew that Luca would come to him if he wanted to talk more. Ilya had yet to ask what he had talked about with Eric on the flight but it almost didn’t seem to matter. Bood’s feeble attempt at playing matchmaker, much to Ilya’s protestations, was such a small thing in light of the day they’d had.

He shovelled some more food into his mouth and let himself be distracted by Harris’ deliberately detailed stories about the new puppies they were fostering on his families’ farm. 

///

Luca knocked softly on Eric's door later that evening. He rocked back and forth on his feet as he waited for Eric to answer it. It had taken him a lot to come down here, mainly the fact that Ilya was getting frustrated with how loud Luca’s anxious thoughts were.

“Luca, we almost died today. Whatever it is, it cannot be worse than that.” He insisted as they sat on FaceTime with Shane. 

“Ilya.” Shane’s tone was sharp.

“What?” 

“Don’t be so harsh, it’s been a long day.” Shane sighed. His eyes were red rimmed from all the crying they’d been doing.

Luca sighed defeatedly, “No, he’s right.”

He stood up from the bed and did a bit of a spin.

“How do I look?”

“Like you got in a plane crash today.” Ilya deadpanned. Shane scoffed from the laptop that was propped up on Ilya’s bed. Luca rolled his eyes and then reached out a hand to him.

“Give me some of that.”

He was motioning towards the bottle of vodka that Ilya had ordered from room service. It wasn’t the good kind, Ilya insisted, but it was enough to take the edge off. Ilya hesitantly handed him the bottle and Luca took a big swig.

“Okay, okay. Enough.” Ilya quickly took it back. Luca’s face scrunched up from the way it burned his throat. It felt good.

“I’m going to talk to Eric.” 

Luca was determined, at least that’s how it came across, as he shook out his hands and rolled his neck, but his feet were glued in place. He couldn't move. 

“Now or in fifty years?” Ilya joked.

“Ilya, c’mon.” Shane sounded exacerbated from his hotel room in Washington and Ilya just grinned down at the laptop. Luca couldn’t see Shane from where he was standing but he could just picture the scowl on his face; the one that Ilya insisted made Shane look like an angry kitten. The same one that Luca had seen countless times when the pair of them were bent over for a face-off. 

“Wish me luck.”

With a couple of well wishes from the guys, he headed down the hall to Eric’s room. As he waited for the door to open he did a quick breath check. Did he smell like vodka? Did he look okay? Maybe he should’ve put on some deodorant before coming down here.

The door swung open and all of his anxious thoughts disappeared. Eric stood there wearing a large Centaurs hoodie which he pulled protectively around his head. It only did so much to cover the shocked expression that flashed across his face before he settled into a slight frown.  

“Can we talk?” Luca asked sheepishly.

Eric nodded and stepped aside to let Luca in. He shuffled off his slides and walked further into the small room, taking in his surroundings. There were two beds and only one of them was in pristine condition. The other was a nested mess; Eric was a restless sleeper and he hated it when the bedsheets were tucked in too tight, so he always made a point to rip them out and wrap himself in all of the layers. There was a perfect imprint in the bed from where Eric had been sitting just moments before. Littered around his spot were candy wrappers and a half-eaten bag of chips. There were a few empty beer bottles on the bedside table and the TV was on, illuminating the room in a soft blue glow. It was playing highlights from the Montreal and Washington game. Shane had already let it slip that the game hadn’t gone well so Luca paid the screen no mind. 

He spun on his heel to look at Eric again. He was quietly watching Luca as he took in the scene, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes impossibly sad. Luca sent him a half smile.

“There’s two beds.” He commented casually.

“Yeah well they booked the rooms back when I still had a roommate.” 

It wasn’t necessarily an attack, at least not with the way that Eric sounded so defeated, but it made Luca’s heart hurt all the same. His voice was deep which caught Luca by surprise. Maybe it was from all the crying? Or maybe it was the beer? Luca wondered how even managed to get those considering they were still underage in Florida. It might've been Bood, who had followed Eric out of the conference room with a plate of food when the rookie left not even five minutes into the meal. Luca watched him leave but he didn’t follow after him; not with the way his brain was still fuzzy from the details of the flight. He had to be entirely sure that his memory wasn’t failing him before he tried to have this conversation.

Eric pushed past Luca and returned to his dishevelled bed. He stared with glossy eyes at the TV and Luca did the same. The panel talked ad nauseam about Shane’s game; how he’d forced one too many turnovers and how his lack of leadership on the ice may have contributed to their 3-0 loss. Luca frowned at the screen. 

“Do you want to sit?”

Luca snapped his head over to Eric who was watching him instead of the screen. He was nervously twirling the remote in his hands.

“Oh, uh yeah.”

He hesitated for a moment but decided to sit on the edge of the unoccupied bed. Eric averted his eyes back to the screen, pulling his hoodie a little tighter around his head and crossing his arms protectively over his chest. Luca couldn’t blame him for being so closed off. He couldn’t blame him for avoiding Luca altogether since they got off the plane.

If he was remembering correctly, Eric had shouldered Luca’s weight as he got them both off the plane. He took Luca directly over to the paramedics and explained how Luca had fainted during the crash, before stepping aside so that Ilya could take over. Luca couldn’t remember much of what the paramedics had asked him but he could perfectly picture Eric’s worried face as he backed away from them. He wanted nothing more than to hold Eric now as a similar expression was engraved into his features.

“Did you mean what you said on the plane today?” Luca asked meekly. 

Eric tensed as he stared at the TV screen. He refused to look at Luca, like maybe if he did then it would mean that Luca was actually sitting there, asking him the one question that Eric hoped he wouldn’t. When he finally met Luca’s eyes it only made him more nervous. 

“Of course I did, Luca.” 

“Okay but did you really mean it?” Luca pressed.

Eric’s eyebrows knitted together ever so slightly. He was doing that thing where he flipped through Luca's brain like it was a filing cabinet and Luca hated it. He hated how vulnerable it made him, how only the people closest to him seemed to be able to sort through the organized chaos of his brain. Eric opened his mouth and closed it again. Eric 's eyes flickered down to where Luca’s hands were nervously tying and untying the strings of his hoodie. 

“Luca, we don’t have to do this. Seriously, we can just pretend it never happened and–” 

“I’m gay.” Luca blurted out. That admission caught Eric by surprise as his mouth fell open. Luca looked down at his feet, unable to hold Eric’s gaze as so many emotions crossed his best friend’s face. He swallowed his nerves and continued, “And I like you too, Eric.”

Luca’s heart was beating faster now as he closed his eyes firmly so that he could pretend this conversation wasn’t happening. He braced for impact, for Eric to admit that he was just joking, to say that he only liked Luca as a friend. But he didn’t.

Instead, Eric shot up from his bed with a lightning speed and closed the distance between them, crashing his lips against Luca’s own. His eyes shot open in surprise as he froze in place under the pressure of Eric’s lips. Then he melted into it. The kiss was desperate, curious even, but it grew heavier as Eric’s tongue flicked across Luca’s bottom lip, begging for entrance. Luca parted his lips and ran his hands up Eric’s back, palming at the muscles under his bulky hoodie. Eric leaned further into the kiss, parting Luca’s knees so that he could comfortably stand between them, closing any possible gap between their two bodies. His hands cradled Luca’s face, holding his jaw firmly in place as they made out. 

When they finally pulled apart, chests heaving, Luca stared into Eric’s eyes. His pupils were huge. They almost made his eyes appear black in the dim lighting of the room. Luca raised a hand and traced it along Eric’s jaw; the stubble under his fingertips was softer than he thought it might be. Luca wanted to pull him back in, to enjoy the moment for just a second longer, but then something even better happened. Eric smiled down at him. That charming smile that had taken Luca’s breath away more times than he could count.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” Eric whispered.

Luca’s cheeks grew warm as he grinned up at Eric.

“Maybe you should do it again, then.”

Eric didn’t need to be told twice as he titled Luca’s chin up again. This kiss was hungrier, like Eric was trying to make up for lost time. He tugged at Luca's bottom lip with his teeth which pulled a whimper from Luca’s throat as he chased the kiss. Eric grinned wider. 

He gently pushed Luca down so that he was lying on the bed and Luca shuffled back, giving their long limbs some room as Eric loomed over him. Luca’s breath was shaky as he looked up at Eric. His eyes were darker now, scanning Luca’s body like he was trying to decide what he wanted to indulge in first. It made Luca’s heart jump to his throat as he realized what was about to happen. Just as Eric was going to kiss Luca again, he placed a gentle hand on Eric’s chest. 

“Wait, I–um,” Luca propped himself up on his elbows. Eric pulled back to give him some space and Luca looked everywhere but at Eric's face, “I’ve never, uh, done this before.”

His cheeks must’ve been as red as a fire hydrant. He glanced nervously up at Eric who only smiled fondly down at him.

“I haven’t either.” Eric admitted. Luca’s jaw fell open.

“Never?”

“Well, not with a guy.” Eric corrected as he scratched the back of his neck. The admission didn’t necessarily feel good but it did make Luca feel a little bit better about the situation. They were on somewhat equal footing.

“Do you trust me?” Eric whispered as he leaned into Luca’s space again.

Luca simply nodded. Eric smiled once more as he placed a gentle kiss on Luca’s lips and then trailed down Luca’s jawline to his neck. Eric peppered kisses there, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin as Luca ran his hands through Eric’s soft hair. He’d been wanting to do that since he first saw Eric’s buzzcut.

In one swift movement Eric removed his hoodie, giving Luca more access to his body. He had seen Eric shirtless countless times before, what with all of the locker rooms and hotel rooms they’d shared, but he’d never let himself indulge in Eric’s body before. His eyes trailed down to his abs and then the adonis belt that was pointed into his low hanging sweatpants.

“Like what you see?” Eric asked as Luca traced his hands up and down Eric’s abdomen. Luca didn’t respond, instead he flipped them over so that Eric was now pressed firmly into the mattress and he was straddling him. The quick movement made Eric’s breath hitch as he stared up at Luca for a moment. He quickly recovered and pulled Luca’s sweater over his head so that they were both shirtless. Before Eric could admire Luca, though, Luca was on him again, kissing him with so much force that it almost hurt. He wanted Eric. He wanted everything he had been holding himself back from.

Luca slipped one of his hands down Eric's body so that he could palm his erection. It made Eric groan into his lips, only encouraging Luca to gently stroke Eric’s length through his sweatpants. He left Eric’s lips for a moment and trailed open mouthed kisses down his neck to his chest and then his abs. Eric watched him with hooded eyes as Luca placed slow kisses all the way down his body. He wanted to savour this but he was also terrified. His heart was pounding uncomfortably against his ribcage as he got to Eric’s pelvis.

Luca paused and glanced up at Eric’s face, eyebrows raised and lips parted, as he silently asked for permission to remove them. Eric nodded eagerly and Luca carefully removed his sweatpants and boxers all in one sweep. Eric’s hard dick flopped against his stomach and Luca stared down at it in awe.

He couldn’t believe he was about to do this. He had no fucking clue what he was doing but it almost didn’t matter. He wanted to taste it, to make Eric feel good. Luca knelt down and grabbed the base of Eric’s dick carefully, watching Eric’s head fall back in pleasure as Luca carefully stroked him. Luca didn’t think it was possible for Eric to look any more beautiful than he already was but there was something about the way his plump lips parted around those sighs that made Luca’s belly light up. He wanted to do more for Eric.

Luca slowly lowered his lips to Eric’s dick and took the head in his mouth. It tasted salty as he swirled his tongue around there. Eric’s abs tensed as he propped himself up on his elbows to watch Luca. It made him nervous but he slowly started to bob his head up and down Eric’s dick, meeting his mouth with his hand for the remainder of the shaft that he couldn’t fit in his mouth.

“Oh my god, Luca.” Eric sighed. Luca hummed against Eric’s dick and he eagerly continued, picking up the pace as he got used to the feeling. He carefully listened to all of Eric’s sighs and cues, trying to decipher what sensations Eric liked and what he didn’t. It didn’t seem like Luca could do anything wrong as Eric began breathing heavier under him.

“Luca, I–I’m gonna cum.” He pushed firmly against Luca’s shoulder, urging him to pull away, but Luca refused. He picked up the pace, hollowing his cheeks out as he sucked Eric’s hard dick sloppily. Eric’s breathing became shaky as he neared orgasm and Luca kept going, a warmth settling in his belly when Eric finished. He swallowed every drop of cum that Eric gave him, moaning against the sensation as it slid down his throat. 

He gently released Eric’s dick and placed gentle kisses on the underside of his head. It made Eric shiver as he looked down at Luca with drunken eyes.

“That was incredible.” He breathed out. It made Luca’s cheeks tint pink as he nervously slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t tell if Eric was lying or not, just trying to make him feel better, but it didn’t matter. Within a moment, Eric’s lips were on Luca’s again and he gently pushed Luca back against the mountain of pillows that were sitting at the head of the bed.

“Your turn.” Eric smirked down at Luca. He suddenly grew quite nervous as Eric shuffled Luca’s sweatpants off, leaving only his black boxers on as he scanned Luca’s body, “You’re so hot.”

The blunt admission made Luca giggle.

“You really know how to make a guy feel special.” Luca joked. Eric chuckled as he positioned himself over Luca again. He pressed their warm bodies together as he settled between Luca’s legs. The pressure grounded Luca a bit as Eric placed kisses down his neck.

He was really trying to enjoy it, to savour every flick of Eric’s tongue against his skin, to take in the musky smell of Eric’s deodorant, but his mind wouldn’t settle. What if he wasn’t good enough for Eric? What if Eric didn’t actually want to do this but felt obligated to return the favour? What if he didn’t like Luca’s dick?  

As if Eric could read Luca’s mind, he pulled away to study Luca’s face.

“Is everything okay?” He asked. Luca reluctantly met his eyes.

“Sorry, I’m just nervous.” He admitted sheepishly, letting his focus trail past Eric’s shoulder to the TV screen behind him. It was no longer playing hockey highlights, instead it was a segment of the Top Ten Touchdowns of 2020. Luca was kind of grateful for that; he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about Shane’s highlights–-or lack thereof, tonight–-playing in the background as he sucked his first dick.

“Hey, look at me.” Eric nudged Luca’s chin carefully so that they were looking at one another again. His eyes were impossibly soft as they bore into Luca’s own, “It’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable.”

“No, no. I want to.” He said immediately and let a hand trace Eric’s bicep mindlessly, “It’s just…new. Scary.”

Eric smiled at him. He placed a slow kiss on Luca’s left cheek and then another on his right cheek before pulling away again.

“If anyone should be scared right now, it’s me.” He chuckled breathlessly, “I mean you just gave me the best blowjob of my life and I have to follow that up somehow.”

Luca bubbled with laughter which only made Eric smile wider. 

“What can I say, I’m just good at everything.” Luca joked.

Eric hummed, “You are. It pisses me off.”

Luca grinned as Eric pepped kisses down his abs. He settled into the bed as Eric left open mouthed kisses over the tent in Luca’s boxers. His breath caught in his throat when Eric looked up at him again, asking for permission to continue. Luca nodded eagerly. Eric made light work of Luca’s boxers before he settled between his legs and trailed slow kisses all over; down his shaft, in his groin, on his balls. It made Luca leak like a broken faucet and he watched on with bated breath, silently wishing that Eric would just do something, anything. Eric seemed to be enjoying himself as he slowly took in Luca’s dick. When he finally swiped a flat tongue along Luca’s shaft, from base to tip, Luca moaned.

“Please.” He whimpered. 

Eric grinned and finally took Luca’s dick in his mouth. The warmth made Luca shudder. Eric started to slowly bob his head up and down Luca’s dick, his tongue sliding along the underside of his shaft as it sat heavy there. Luca couldn’t stop himself from moaning as Eric brought up a shaky hand to stroke the base of his dick.

It felt amazing. Euphoric. Unlike anything Luca had ever experienced before. He placed a hand on Eric’s head to encourage a rhythm that he liked. Eric was eager under Luca’s direction, looking up at him with large, brown eyes as he responded to every shudder and moan.

The nervous thoughts were still looming somewhere in the back of Luca's mind but they were fighting for real estate now with the pure satisfaction of watching Eric please him. His lips were so soft, his tongue so smooth, as he picked up the pace.

“Just like that, yes.” He fell heavier into the pillows as a pressure started to build in his gut, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t–”

Before he could warn Eric, he came. Hard. Eric’s eyes squeezed shut as he took it all, swallowing the load before continuing to suck at the tip of Luca’s dick. It was overpowering as Luca dug his fingers into Eric’s shoulder.

“Oh my god.” He groaned and tried to push Eric away. It was so much, too much, which Eric quickly realized as he suddenly pulled away from Luca’s dick with parted lips. A string of saliva connected his throbbing head to Eric’s plump bottom lip as he stared up at Luca with wide eyes. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, terrified but also stunning. 

“I’m sorry, was that too much?”

Luca didn’t answer, instead he pulled Eric up into a messy kiss. Eric fell into it, leaning his whole body weight on top of him as Luca tried to savour every last drop of Eric. He tasted salty now, like himself, and Eric grinned into the kiss. He pulled away to look at Luca, both of their chests heaving again as they shared the space.

“That was–” Luca breathed out, trying to wrack his brain for any word that could possibly describe the way he was feeling in that moment. 

“Incredible?” Eric smirked. Luca deflated into the mattress with a lazy smile on his face. He let his eyes flutter shut, trying to savour the moment as it left them.

“Incredible.” He agreed before he looked up into Eric’s eyes again, “Not as incredible as the blow job that I gave you, but…”

Eric picked up one of the pillows beside him and smacked it against Luca’s head. Luca giggled and raised his hands to protect himself.

“Hey, hey! It was still a solid A-.” He joked. 

It wasn’t. It was perfect.

“You’re such a fucker.” Eric grinned and rolled off of Luca. He fell flat on his stomach and looped a lazy arm across Luca’s stomach. The lack of contact, at least the amount that Luca was craving, sent a chill through his body. He watched Eric's back rise and fall with every breath as he got comfortable in the bed. They laid in silence like that, together, for a long time. Luca just admiring Eric and Eric trying to fight off the sleep that so badly wanted to drag him under.

“How long have you known?” Luca asked quietly. He didn’t want to break the peaceful moment but the thought was gnawing away at him. He needed to know.

“How long have I known what?” Eric sighed as his eyes fluttered open again. His thumb brushed against Luca’s stomach mindlessly.

“That you wanted to do this.” He gestured to their naked bodies.

That you’ve wanted me like this, Luca thought to himself, as more than a friend. As whatever they were now. He hoped his expression conveyed all of that without him having to voice it.

Eric let go of a shaky breath and sat up in the bed. He shimmied so that he could pull the covers out from where they were tucked tightly into the end of the bed. He draped them over himself and then urged Luca to do the same. Once they were tucked under it comfortably, he turned to face Luca, taking one of his hands in his own.

“Consciously? Maybe about a week.” Eric admitted.

Luca’s eyes widened, “Only a week?”

He couldn’t stop the words from falling out of his mouth. He’d been pining over this man for months and Eric only came to that realization a week ago?

“Subconciously? I think my body knew the first time we met.” Eric chuckled and squeezed Luca’s hand, “It just took a bit for my brain to catch up.”

Oh.

Luca’s expression softened as he looked down at their intertwined hands. 

“What about you?” Eric asked cautiously.

Luca didn’t know how to answer that question. It was complicated. He knew that he liked Eric from the moment they met but that was only as friends. Things seemed to flow naturally from there. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment that he’d started crushing on Eric. Maybe it was during one of their movie nights? Or the first time that Eric fell asleep on his shoulder on the plane? Or when they were giggling together while filming social media content for Harris? It all blurred together into one messy timeline. One perfectly messy timeline.

Luca smiled to himself, “A little while.”

That answer seemed to satisfy Eric as he raised their joint hands to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the back of Luca’s hand. Luca felt his cheeks grow warm as they cuddled together. At some point Eric had put on a Disney movie--Mulan, of course--and Luca fell asleep with the steady thumping of Eric’s heart beneath his ear.

Chapter End Notes

This might be the longest chapter so far but I just couldn't leave y'all with anymore cliffhangers, so here, have it all! Hope this was worth all of the "poor Luca" comments hahaha

Also tags + rating have been updated!

Chapter 23: The Morning After

Chapter Notes

Guys I got tired of Google translate so we're going to be doing longer French/Russian dialogue in italics from now on...

Tampa Bay, January 2021

Luca woke the next morning with a jolt. He’d been dreaming about the plane crash and woken up as soon as they hit the ground. He tried to steady his heart rate as he looked around the room, reminding himself that he was safe–-that he was alive. Something told him that he wouldn’t have been in the dream, though. 

He reached for his glasses on the bedside table and slid them up his nose, sitting up in the bed to take in his surroundings. There were empty beer bottles right next to him, a sweater strewn across the desk chair from where it had been thrown the night before, and a warm ray of sunshine peaking through the  curtains. Beside him, Eric was snoring softly. His hand twitched in the small space between them as if he was reaching for Luca, even subconsciously. 

Everything hit Luca all at once; admitting to Eric that he was gay, hooking up, falling asleep in each other's arms. He wanted to be excited, relieved, but instead a pit of anxiety had taken shape in his gut. He still had so many questions and concerns. What did all of this mean? Was last night just a spur of the moment type of thing? Was Eric even single? 

Fuck. Luca hadn’t even thought about that the night before, amidst the anxiety and the vodka which, admittedly, had a bigger impact on him than he’d expected it to. He got out of the bed, careful not to wake Eric, and started shrugging his clothes back on from where they had been discarded the night before. 

“Where are you going?” Eric mumbled sleepily. His eyes were only half open, watching Luca as he slid into his shoes. He looked adorable.

“I’m just going to shower. Maybe grab some food.” He said sheepishly. They had the day off to do whatever they wanted, which Luca was grateful for; there was no way he could play a game right now and pretend like everything was alright.

Eric hummed happily, “Okay give me like thirty minutes.”

He pulled Luca’s pillow into his chest and took a deep inhale of it. Luca smiled to himself knowing that Eric would be asleep for a lot longer than that.

The anxiety still lingered somewhere in the back of his mind but at least Eric wasn’t treating him any differently or worse, ignoring him altogether. That settled some of his racing thoughts as he walked back down the hall to the room he shared with Ilya. They could figure it out later.

Luca pushed the door open quietly, half-expecting that Ilya might still be asleep. He wasn’t. Instead he was sitting at the desk, feet propped up on the perfectly made bed that Luca was supposed to sleep in the night before, almost like he was waiting for him. His laptop was open on the desk in front of him and he was holding a steaming paper cup in one hand. 

“So,” Ilya took a careful sip of his coffee, “How was your evening?”

Luca blushed furiously. 

“Shut up.” Luca grumbled. He tried to be mad but he couldn’t stop the small smile that rose to his face. He scurried over to his suitcase and took out his wash bag.

“Is that Luca?”

Luca winced at the sound of Shane’s voice coming from the laptop.

“It is.” Ilya mused, a small smirk on his lips.

“Why are you still on the phone?” Luca raised his voice a little louder so that Shane could also hear him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s not like we almost died yesterday or anything.” Ilya’s tone was dripping with sarcasm and it made Shane laugh. Luca just rolled his eyes and shrugged his sweater off. He tried to scurry over to the bathroom before this conversation could go any further but it was no use.

“You didn't answer my question.” Ilya called after him. Luca slowly turned on his heel in the bathroom doorway. The fan was on and the mirror was still covered in a blanket of steam. He didn’t want to know if Shane was still on facetime when Ilya showered. 

“Can I please just shower?” Luca groaned.

“You spent the night with a boy and you think you can just come back and pretend like nothing happened?” Ilya raised his eyebrows at Luca. It would’ve been a good impersonation of a strict father if not for the shit eating grin plastered across Ilya’s face. Shane chuckled from the other end of the call.

“Turn the laptop around, I want to see how red he is.” Shane teased. Ilya obliged and if Luca squinted he could see a very dishevelled version of himself in the top right corner of the screen.

“Wow, Luca. Nice hair.” Shane laughed.

“You guys suck.” 

Luca ignored their laughter as he went to get ready for the day. Ilya called after him that they’d be going for breakfast with Troy, Harris, and Wyatt. He also encouraged Luca to wear something that would cover the hickey on his collarbone. Luca cursed under his breath when he saw the reflection of it in the bathroom mirror. 

///

Ilya had barely slept. He stayed on FaceTime with Shane all night and when he eventually knocked out all he could dream about was the aftermath of the plane crash. Sometimes he was a witness at his own funeral back in Russia while other times he was a fly on the wall in Shane’s hotel room when he got the news that Ilya died. Being awake didn't bring him much comfort either, instead it led to even more intrusive thoughts. 

He couldn’t get this gnawing thought out of his brain that he’d almost died without saying goodbye to Luca. All he could do was warn him to brace for impact--tell him how to end his life sooner, in a less painful way. It killed him to think that he hadn’t told Luca how much he loved him, how much this random rookie from Switzerland had changed his life in the short months they'd known each other. Ilya couldn’t forgive himself for that, not even with this second–-maybe third or fourth, Ilya lost count–-chance he had at life.

Talking to Shane helped, though. He was grateful that he’d plugged his laptop in before he fell asleep because he woke up with his boyfriend still on the other side of the screen, out for a morning walk with Hayden. He knew it was going to be a tough day because he didn’t even have the energy to chirp Hayden, not after yesterday. Not after he’d been such a wall of support for Shane in Ilya’s absence. 

As soon as they hung up, a heaviness had formed in his chest. Shane promised that he’d be there waiting for them when they got back to Ottawa but the idea only brought him so much comfort. They’d have to get on another flight before then and that made Ilya sick to his stomach. He pushed that feeling aside as he traced his finger tips around the circumference of his mug. The coffee at iHop was just as shitty as it was at the hotel but it kept him awake and that’s all he needed right now; too scared of the dreams that waited for him on the other side of sleep.

Ilya glanced up at the TV in the corner of the quiet restaurant. It was a news channel talking about their crash the day before. Even with the volume low, Ilya could make out what the news anchors were saying; how everyone had survived, that their game against Tampa had been pushed back, and what the league had to say about it. Ilya was just impressed that Crowell cared enough to make an official statement; he supposed that the league was good at keeping up appearances when it mattered. 

Ilya knew that the team had yet to post an official statement themselves, seeing as he had yet to be pulled into any meetings about it. He figured that would be a problem for tomorrow morning, but until then, Ilya avoided social media. He was too scared of the comments and the messages he'd received overnight; he wasn't ready to let the world in just yet. He'd collect his thoughts later and reach out to Farrah for advice on the media storm that was about to hit them. The sound of a chair screeching across the floor pulled him out of his daze and he looked across the table to find Harris smiling down at him. 

“Good morning!” He was trying to be cheerful, as Harris always was, but there was a hesitation there as he looked down at Ilya. It was his idea for them to go to iHop, something fun to start their day. Ilya wasn’t quite sure that he considered soggy pancakes fun but he agreed to come anyway.

“Morning.” Ilya mumbled back, eyeing Troy who took the seat beside Harris. He was avoiding Ilya’s gaze entirely. The night before, when he'd made a late night trip to the vending machine, he saw the two of them disappear into Harris' room. Troy had made eye contact with Ilya just as he was scanning the hallway and Ilya only grinned at him then. Troy just rolled his eyes and followed Harris into his room with a bashful smile on his face. Now? Not so much.

Ilya smirked and then glanced sideways at Luca to see if he had picked up on the same energy that he had. He was too busy fidgeting with his tshirt, pulling the collar a little higher over the spot where Ilya had seen his hickey earlier that morning. 

“How’d everyone sleep?” Wyatt asked innocently. 

Luca nearly choked on his orange juice which made all of the guys turn to him.

“Sorry, um, fine. I slept fine.” Luca stammered as his ears tinted pink. Ilya smiled over at him as the rookie took a sudden interest in his menu. 

"I probably got like 2 hours of sleep." Ilya admitted, taking the attention off of Luca, who thanked him by nudging his foot under the table.

“Same here." Harris offered with a warm smile.

He was trying to be relatable but only Ilya and Troy knew the layers to that comment. Troy didn't say anything, even as the men all turned to him for his thoughts. He was saved by the waitress who came over to introduce herself to the three men who had just joined them. As Troy was ordering his coffee, Ilya leaned over to Wyatt.

“Don't take it personally, Troy is grumpy when he doesn't get enough sleep.” Ilya offered, referencing Troy’s silence. Wyatt nodded and Harris blushed down at his menu.

Once their food arrived, things started to feel a bit more normal. The heaviness in Ilya’s chest was only dulled by the sudden interest he had taken in Harris and Troy; the stolen glances at one another, the way that Troy blushed when Harris leaned over and stole a piece of bacon off of his plate. Ilya smiled down at his own plate, happy that they’d finally figured their shit out. It only made him crave Shane just a little bit more.

“What are the kids doing today?” Wyatt asked Luca a little while later. 

Luca shrugged. He hadn’t been talking to Eric before they got on the plane so Ilya figured that he hadn’t known about any plans they may have had for Florida. He almost stepped in to make something up--to save Luca from the solemn way he was looking down at his food--when Wyatt picked up on Luca’s energy.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Wyatt let the words die in his mouth, not entirely sure where he wanted to take that thought.

“No worries. I talked to Eric before the, uh, y’know.” Luca hadn’t been able to talk about the plane crash just yet, not since the day before, “Anyways, everything is fine.” 

Luca shot him a small smile. There was something there, an anxiety that Ilya hadn’t picked up on that morning when Luca came back to the room. He wasn’t sure if it was lingering from the plane crash or his night with Eric, but he would have to ask him about it later. 

“Oh yeah, how’d that go?” 

Troy was asking about their conversation on the plane, blissfully unaware of anything else that had happened the night before, but it still made Luca tense. 

“Fine.” Luca’s cheeks burned.

Troy’s eyes flickered over the boy, first to his face and then to the hickey that was poking out of his t-shirt again. Harris seemed to piece together what Troy had only a few seconds later, and the two of them smiled like idiots. Luca averted his eyes down to his plate, clearly also aware of the sudden interest they had taken in him. If Wyatt noticed this silent exchange he didn’t say anything about it. Ilya knew that he wasn’t stupid though; he was a goalie, it was his job to notice things. 

“We should have fun today.” Harris announced, steering them away from that line of conversation.

“Doing what?” Ilya took the bait.

“Let’s go to the beach.” Harris shrugged. 

Ilya glanced out the window at the sunny day. Deep down all he wanted to do was go back to the hotel room and call Shane, but he was on his way to Buffalo for their next game and Ilya couldn’t hold him hostage all day. Even if Shane would let him.

“I’m in. Better than sitting around worrying about the flight home.” Wyatt leaned back in his chair.

Ilya glanced sideways at Luca who was already staring at him like a little kid waiting for their parent to make a decision for them. It might’ve been the small smile on his lips or the glint in his eye but whatever it was, it broke something in Ilya. 

He sighed, “Fine. Yes. Let’s go to the beach.”

Luca beamed at him and then over at Harris, “I’ll go too.” 

Harris raised his eyebrows at Ilya knowingly, as if to say, "This kid really thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread." Ilya only returned it with a smug smile of his own.

"Barrett, did you pack a bathing suit?"

It was a dumb question, one that made both Troy and Wyatt look at him with furrowed eyebrows, but it made Harris blush furiously and that's all the satisfaction that Ilya needed in that moment.

"Uh no?" Troy looked between him and Harris.

"Shame." Ilya sighed. Harris glared at him as he took another bite of his toast.

///

The beach was fun, Luca had to admit. They managed to get a big group of the guys and even some of their coaching staff down to join them. A group of them had joined a volleyball game with some locals and others went swimming. Luca had only received a bit of light teasing from the guys when he took off his shirt and the hickey was on full display.

"Damn, Haasy." LaPointe commented at the same time that Dykstra let a low whistle escape his lips. He turned a bright red as some of the other guys joined in, asking him where he found the lucky girl and why she felt the need to mark her territory. Eric had taken a sudden interest in the waves as this conversation was going on, unable to meet Bood's gaze even as he nudged him jokingly.

"Shut up." Luca mumbled and immediately rolled a football away from LaPointe's feet, challenging him to a game of keep away. He took the bait easily and Eric jogged after them as they went a bit further down the beach. 

They were out in the sun for hours on end, just joking around and relaxing together. He was silently thankful to Harris for suggesting that they do this, it was a good way to get his mind off of everything that had happened in the past twenty four hours. That is, until he got a call from Sophia. When he saw her name pop up he answered it immediately, letting Eric take the football from his feet instead of fighting him off like he had been before.

“Hey Sophia, sorry I’m just out at the bea–"

“Luca?”

The sound of his father’s voice sent a chill down his spine. He hadn't heard his voice in months. Both of his parents had sent him countless emails and texts once they heard about the plane crash but he didn’t answer any of them. His parents had barely talked to him since he’d moved to Canada and that didn’t seem to bother them, why should they care now? Apparently, they did.

“Papa?” 

“Nice of you to answer.” His father’s voice was stern as Luca processed his words.

He stood up a little straighter, rolling his shoulders back defiantly, “Where’s Sophia? I’d like to talk to her.”

Luca glanced over at Eric who furrowed his eyebrows at him. He’d slipped into French so Eric couldn’t understand what he was saying but it didn’t take a genius to sense that Luca’s energy had changed. He decided to walk a bit further away to a quieter part of the beach, where he slumped down under a palm tree.

His father completely ignored him, “So, you’re alive?” 

“Well I am talking to you, am I not?” 

There was a dry chuckle on the other end of the line, “Oh, Luca. Always one for theatrics.” 

The words pricked at a sore spot in Luca’s brain, one that he’d worked hard to cover. His father made comments like that a lot growing up; how Luca was too soft or emotional, never quite manly enough for his liking. Even as a child Luca knew that those insults were unfair but they stuck with him anyways. He carried them around with him everywhere he went; when he was on the ice, when he was doodling in between meetings, when he was trying to decipher his feelings for Eric. Even now. 

Luca could feel a swell of tears prickling at the backs of his eyes but he forced them down. He glanced back at Eric who had gone down to join Harris and Troy in the water to give Luca some privacy. He averted his eyes back down to his toes which he’d buried in the cool sand. It was a welcome sensation compared to the heat that was emanating from his body.

“How's hockey? Last I heard you were on a bit of a losing streak.” 

There it was, the disappointment. It was almost laughable how predictable his father was. First he would strike, pick at an insecurity of Luca’s, and then he would belittle him, remind him that he wasn’t good enough. It didn’t even matter that the Centaurs were losing, his father would’ve found something to pick apart; his speed, his backhand, his shot accuracy. His father was never very supportive of his choice to pursue hockey but he did have high expectations for his children, so if Luca was going to play hockey then he had to be the best at it. That led to many nights out in the driveway, shooting pucks until his wrists hurt and the sun was long gone. Luca had to physically shake his head to fight off the memory.  

“We won our last game.” His tone was firm even if his emotions weren’t. Luca could feel himself shrinking the longer he talked with his father. He didn't want to let his father's words get to him--he knew that he was wrong, that everything he was saying was out of his own frustrations--but it didn't matter. Logic went out the window when it came to dealing with his parent's criticisms.

Luca forced himself to take a deep breath to relieve some of the tension in his chest. The frustration was building but not towards his father, towards himself. He’d worked so hard to move on from his life back home. Heck, he barely even talked to his parents now that he was in Canada. In a way, that almost made it harder when they did reach out--especially when it came as a surprise, like this call. His father didn't deserve the satisfaction of getting to Luca and he tried to keep that in the forefront of his mind as he closed his eyes and ran a nervous hand through his hair.

His father sighed, “Well I will tell your mother that you are alright. You should give her a call.”

He wanted to make a quip about how he’d be sure to schedule that with her assistant but he resisted, already feeling far too tired by this short interaction. Instead, he said a curt goodbye and hung up. At some point during the conversation Ilya had come to sit beside him, legs stretched out comfortably in front of him as he watched their teammates still having fun around the beach. 

“Everything alright?” Ilya glanced sideways at Luca.

Luca let go of a shaky breath, “Yeah. Just got a call from my father.” 

Ilya nodded along to his words as he sat up a little straighter, wrapping his arms around his knees to get comfortable. Luca wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to talk to Ilya about his family just yet; he figured that Ilya had put some pieces together, at least the fact that they weren’t on regular speaking terms, but the rest of it was still too much for Luca to get into. Especially not after everything that had happened in the past twenty four hours.

Ilya seemed to pick up on this as they sat in silence for a while. They watched Eric do handstands in the water, coming up in between each one to get a rating from Harris and Troy. When Troy gave him a score far lower than he'd expected, Eric tackled him back into the water. Luca smiled. It was peaceful, just sitting there with Ilya, being surrounded by the guys. 

“I’m so proud of you, Mitshuka.” Ilya said out of nowhere. The bluntness of it made Luca short circuit. He wasn’t quite sure what to say as he glanced sideways at Ilya, who had yet to take his eyes off of the guys in the water. It was just so matter of fact, like it took nothing for Ilya to say. Luca felt the back of his neck grow hot as he looked down at his hands. 

“Thank you, Ilyusha.” He smiled to himself. 

Ilya finally glanced over at Luca and chuckled to himself, before pulling Luca into a side hug. Luca let himself fall into it.

A singular tear slipped down his cheek and onto Ilya's shoulder. He wasn't sad, not really, just overwhelmed by everything. They sat like that for a little while to let Luca's nerves settle. The longer that Ilya held him, the more comfortable he felt. When he finally glanced back over at the water, the three guys were watching them. Eric waved them over and Ilya snorted.

"Feeling better?" He glanced down at Luca.

He sat up and took a deep breath, "Yes. Thank you." 

Ilya smiled softly at him before he nodded in Eric's direction. 

“Go.” Ilya instructed.

Luca didn’t hesitate. He got up, dusted himself off, and jogged down to the water. He immediately jumped onto Eric and dunked him under the water. Troy and Harris laughed at them as the rookies splashed water in each other’s faces. 

///

Later that night the guys were sitting around at a Mexican restaurant that Bood had booked for them. Some of the guys were drinking, including Eric, who stayed by Luca’s side all night. All he wanted to do was reach out and touch Eric, maybe place a hand on his thigh or link their hands together under the table. Eric seemed to sense this as he stretched an arm around the back of his chair. It was a harmless gesture, Luca had to remind himself, one that he’d had seen countless other teammates do over the past few months. None of the guys seemed to care, only Ilya who sent Luca a knowing smirk, as the conversations continued around them.

“There’s literally no way that a hotdog is a sandwich.” Wyatt’s exasperation brought Luca out of his thoughts again. 

“It is a sandwich. When you go to a restaurant and look under the sandwich section, you will find hotdogs there.” Dykstra leaned forward to make his point clearer from across the table.

“That’s so dumb.” Wyatt rolled his eyes.

“You’re so dumb.” Dykstra shot back which got a glare out of Wyatt.

“To be fair, hotdogs are too iconic to be considered a sandwich.” Bood added unhelpfully, taking a brief moment away from his quiet conversation with Ilya to add more fuel to the fire.

“Thank you!” Wyatt exhaled, “Finally someone with some fucking sense.”

Luca giggled at them as he took another sip of his water. The guys had been having random debates all night, their arguments only getting more and more charged the longer they were there. At the other end of the table, the conversation wasn’t much better.

“Okay well then what’s your favourite serving of potato?” Troy said with an edge to his tone, clearly unimpressed by Chouinard’s judgement of his own choice. He probably said something healthy like an unseasoned potato made in the air fryer.

“The only answer is mashed potatoes.” Chouinard insisted. 

“Mashed potatoes?” LaPointe’s jaw dropped, “Over french fries? Absolutely not.”

“That’s literally what I said, thank you!” Harris chipped in.

“We’re surrounded by idiots.” Eric whispered. Luca chuckled under his breath as he looked around at their teammates, all stuck in their animated conversations about things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. It was perfect chaos.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Eric asked after another moment of listening to Wyatt argue with Dykstra about whether hamburgers were considered a sandwich too. Luca suddenly felt nervous.

“Oh uh, yeah. We can. I don’t know if you want to head out first and then I can follow in a bit, or?” Luca suggested.

“Luca, we can leave together. They won’t suspect anything.” Eric chuckled. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world but it still made Luca nervous. He didn’t know how to act around Eric, too scared that his true feelings for his best friend would be clear as day now that he knew they were reciprocated. 

“What’s that?” Bood asked from across the table. Luca’s eyes widened as he slowly turned to look at Ilya and Bood who were suddenly very interested in their private conversation.

“Nothing, Bood.” Eric shook his head with a lopsided grin, “Luca was just saying that he’s tired.”

Luca tried his hardest not to blush as their vets smiled at them knowingly. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about Bood knowing about their situation but he really had no room to argue seeing as he’d had Ilya, Troy, and Harris the past few months. He could forgive Eric for talking to Bood about stuff. Whatever that stuff entailed, Luca tried not to let it bother him. He knew one thing for certain and that was that Bood could be trusted.

“Da, it was a long night. Wasn't it, Luca?” Ilya grinned.

Luca groaned and Eric just chuckled. He wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

“Okay, I think we’re going to head back to the hotel.” Luca started to get up from his chair, drawing the attention of a few more guys around the table.

“Are you guys heading out now?” Harris asked loudly. Luca winced as even more people turned to watch them both get up from the table.

“Uh yeah, it’s been a long day.” Eric said casually. He seemed to be handling this attention much better than Luca was. 

“Great, I was just about to walk back!” Harris insisted, also standing from the table. Troy agreed and so did Ilya, which only made Luca more nervous as he realized that they would all be walking back to the hotel together.

They all knew what they were doing and it's not like Luca could ask them not to join--that would make people suspicious. So instead, Luca let go of a shaky breath and got into the elevator with the rest of the guys. He was standing beside Eric, only about an inch of space between them which was made smaller by the hairs that stood on end down Luca’s arm. He could only look at his shoes as the three older men watched at them. He just hoped that Eric was blissfully unaware of just how awkward this was.

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the night?” Troy asked with a smug smile on his face.

Luca glared at him and Eric chuckled nervously as he glanced at the floors counting them down from the rooftop bar.

“Probably a movie night?” He turned to look at Luca who had yet to break eye contact with Troy. The man had had a couple of drinks that night which didn’t help with his loose tongue.

“Oh what movie?” Harris asked, sounding a little more neutral compared to his two counterparts who were still far too smug for Luca’s liking. They were enjoying this a bit too much.

“Fifty Shades of Grey?” Ilya suggested at the same time that Troy said, “Brokeback Mountain?” That got the two of them to fall into a fit of giggles, while Luca turned an embarrassing shade of red. Eric stared at them with wide eyes.

“Real fucking mature.” Luca grumbled as he pushed out of the elevator and stalked through the lobby of the building out into the street. Eric jogged after him while the other guys, still giggling and joking amongst one another, slowly caught up after them.

“So I’m assuming they know then?” Eric asked Luca cautiously. He turned to look at Eric with soft eyes before glaring over his shoulder at the men who had sobered up only a little bit from their fit of laughter.

“Well Ilya did. The other two must’ve guessed.” Luca offered with an apologetic smile. Eric didn’t seem too fazed by it, almost relieved as his shoulders fell slightly from where they had been tense just a moment before.

“To be fair, you guys weren’t exactly subtle about it.” Harris offered in what he thought was a helpful tone. It wasn’t. 

“It was only noticeable to you because you’re all gay.” Luca retorted.

“I’m sorry?” Eric stopped in his tracks, causing Troy to walk straight into him, “All of you?”

He looked around the semi-circle with his jaw dropped. Luca watched his brain shortcircuit in realtime as the guys all chuckled around him.

“Well, technically I am bisexual, but yes.” Ilya smirked.

“Not helpful,” Luca said under his breath before he sent a shy smile to Eric, “Surprise?”

Eric stared at him in silence for a moment, just collecting his thoughts.

“So let me get this straight–”

“Gay, but continue.” Troy joked. Harris and Ilya snorted at him while Luca just rolled his eyes.

“So you’ve had three gay wisemen for what, four months? And I was the one that had to come out to you first?” Eric poked a finger into Luca’s chest. Luca’s cheeks tinted pink as he looked nervously around the circle of guys who were laughing at them again.

Eric had a point but he clearly wanted to drive it home, “I thought it was just me and Scott Hunter. I was fucking terrified!”

Luca sent him a sad smile, suddenly quite aware of how different their experiences had been these past few months. Eric said that he’d only really let things click into place for him about a week ago but Luca wondered just how accurate that was; surely his sexuality was something that he’d been deliberating for a bit longer than that. Either way, it must’ve been tough. Even with Bood there to support him, which Luca had put together after Bood’s intervention back on the plane, that must’ve been so isolating. He had no clue what the past four months would’ve been like had he not had the guys to look up to; especially Ilya and Shane, who had been so solid in Luca’s understanding of his own sexuality and what his future could look like.

“I’m sorry. I imagine that was quite lonely.” Luca offered. He wanted to reach out and grab Eric's hand but he refrained. They were in public and anyone could be watching them right now. Especially since their team had garnered more attention from the media since the plane crash; at least, that's what he'd overheard Coach and Harris talking about briefly at dinner.

Eric just shook his head. He was smiling but Luca could sense that there was a mix of emotions running through his brain. 

“This is fucking great.” He grinned over at the guys, “I actually can’t believe it! Well, I can, kind of. Harris I knew you were gay from the moment we met.” 

Harris’ cheeks grew warm as Troy doubled over in laughter. Harris hit him on the shoulder but that didn’t do much to tame Troy’s amusement at Eric's comment.

“Was it the pride pins or the fact that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Troy?” Ilya grinned.

“Ilya, jeez.” Harris rolled his eyes.

Eric just smiled between them, “Definitely the pins but I did notice how Troy follows Harris around like Chiron.” 

Troy suddenly stopped laughing, “Hey!”

They all laughed and continued their walk back to the hotel, falling into their own conversations as they went. Luca felt impossibly lighter, any trace of anxiety he’d felt earlier in the day was shrunken down to a spec of dust in his chest. There was still so much he needed to talk to Eric about; what they were to each other, how they were going to move forward, and maybe some reassurance that he hadn’t been a homewrecker. For now, as he walked back to the hotel and occasionally bumped shoulders with Eric, everything felt right. 

As they all clamoured out of the elevator, they said goodnight to Troy and Harris–-Ilya calling after them that Troy needed some rest for their game the next day–-and then Ilya led Luca and Eric back to his hotel room. They didn’t have to say anything to know where Luca would be spending the rest of his nights on this trip, but Ilya didn’t seem to mind. He watched Luca grab his stuff with his arms crossed over his chest. Eric was waiting by the door, shuffling his feet against the ground as he awkwardly waited for Luca to put his shower stuff back into his bag.

“So breakfast is tomorrow at 8?” Luca asked Ilya as he walked back over to the door. Eric took his duffel bag from him without question which made Luca smile.

“Da,” Ilya said and then let his eyes flicker over to Eric, “And Young?”

“Hmm?” Eric hummed at him as he opened the door.

“Just so that we’re all aware-–if you hurt Luca, I know where you live.” Ilya smiled sweetly at Eric.

“Oh my god, Ilyusha!” Luca’s eyes widened first at Ilya and then at Eric, who suddenly looked quite pale, “Don’t say that.” 

“Have a good night! Be safe.” Ilya flopped back onto his bed and opened his laptop without another word.

Eric and Luca only buffered for a moment before they shuffled out of the room and back down the hall to their own. When they walked in and the door clicked shut behind them, Luca immediately turned to Eric.

“I’m sorry about that, he can be a bit–”

“Shut up.” Eric smiled and pulled Luca into a kiss by the front of his shirt. He couldn’t help but smile as he kissed Eric back, all thoughts and worries escaping him as he walked Eric backwards to the bed.

Chapter End Notes

You guys left so many nice comments on my last chapter, I literally have a folder with all of my favourite ones on my phone! Thank you for being so kind.

ALSO, I decided to start writing one shots for this series! So you can see the first one, Home Ice Advantage, as part of this series. It's Shane's POV of the incident in Chapter 15 :)

Hope you're still enjoying this <3

Chapter 24: Terms and Conditions

Ottawa, January 2021

It came as no surprise to Ilya that they lost both of their games down in Florida. After their day at the beach, things had gotten hectic. They hosted a press conference ahead of their game against Tampa Bay where Ilya and Coach Wiebe answered questions about the plane crash. It was horrible. 

When Ilya first moved to Ottawa, his relationship with the media had changed. Maybe it was because his life was different or maybe the media personnel in Canada were kinder, but he felt more carefree whenever he had to do interviews--less guarded. He’d joke around with the interviewers and give them less scripted answers to their very pointed questions; he even had a running bit with one of the TSN guys, a veteran of the Centaurs from the early 2000s, about how he needed to lace up and join them sometime, especially on their bad days. That garnered him a bit of respect in the media rooms across the league but this press conference was different. He was noticeably cold and gave curt answers about the plane crash. It was very clear to everyone in the room that Ilya did not want to be there. 

He nearly snapped when someone asked about how Luca was doing, specifically. The media had quickly learned that Luca needed immediate medical attention once the plane landed which led to rumours about the status of his concussion and his ability to push for a Centaurs play-off run this year. Ilya had seen the stupid comments on Twitter and he tried his best to protect Luca from it all; not that he needed much protection, anyways, the kid was barely on his phone. Ilya was more chronically online than he was. It made no sense.

Before Ilya could say anything, Coach Wiebe quickly stepped in and gave a civil answer about how Luca was healthy, that he would be playing in their game that night, and how the team was relying on one another during this tough time. Ilya didn’t say much for the rest of the conference.

He only relaxed once he got back to the visitors' locker room and found Luca giggling in a corner with Eric and Troy. 

“What’s so funny?” Ilya asked as he walked up to them.

“We decided to make a group chat.” Eric turned his phone around to show Ilya. It was a group chat that he’d made with all of the gay players on the team and Harris. He called it “The Centaurs Closet🏒🌈”. Ilya bit back a smile.

“Do you like it?” Eric beamed up at him. His eyes were hopeful, seeking approval that Ilya intentionally held back; just for a little bit longer, until he decided whether Young was good for Luca or not. His heart did warm at the idea though. 

"What is it you Canadians say? Whatever floats your boat?” He offered instead.

“I figured it just makes things easier.” Eric admitted a bit shyly. Troy clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly.

“Easier?” Ilya questioned, noticing the way that Eric had smiled sideways at Troy.

“Yeah, for when I have questions.” Eric shrugged. Luca smiled fondly over at him.

Troy smirked, “He’s saying that he wants tips on how to give a blow–”

“Okay, that’s enough of that.” Luca stood up and clapped his hands once to cut Troy off before he could finish his sentence. His eyes darted all around the locker room, which was far too busy to be having an open conversation like this, even if the rest of the guys were distracted by their own conversations and someone had music playing a little too loud. Ilya just laughed at them as he shuffled back over to his own stall to start his pre-game routine.

The flight home went better than Ilya expected it to. They were all nervous as they boarded the plane. The pilot even gave them a reassuring speech about his lengthy experience in the profession and some statistics about how unlikely it was to experience an incident like the one they had only a few days prior. It did little to reassure Ilya as he prayed under his breath for the whole ascent. Luca sat beside him this time, clutching the arm rests with a death grip until they were in the air for at least thirty minutes. Ilya tried to distract him with movies but nothing seemed to settle the rookie, until Harris got up and started sharing some of his dating horror stories. The guys started to lighten up as they each got up and shared their own. By the time they touched down in Ottawa, Ilya had forgotten all about his nerves.

Once they got their bags and started heading out to the car, Luca turned to him with a shy smile.

“Hey, Ilyusha, I think I’m going to catch a ride with Eric.” Luca said, shuffling his duffel bag up a bit further on his shoulder. 

Ilya looked past his shoulder at where Eric was waiting for him on the other side of the parking garage.

He smiled, “Sounds good. Will you be home for dinner?”

“Yeah, we won’t be long.” He scanned their general vicinity before stepping in closer to ask, “Is Shane at home?”

“He is.” Ilya beamed, unable to contain his excitement. 

Luca smiled, “Okay, well I’ll text when I’m on my way back.”

Ilya appreciated that. They didn’t want another Halloween situation. 

“Okay, go have fun.” He chuckled and Luca sent him one final smile before jogging over to where Eric was waiting for him. Ilya watched him go and even waved at Eric before he threw his bags in the trunk. 

///

Luca removed his seatbelt and shifted a bit to get more comfortable in the passenger seat of the car. Eric had bought a nice SUV with his first paycheque, something reliable to appease Bood but still fancy enough that it had a nice touch screen taking over most of the front console. It still smelled like new leather, even months later, and there was a new musky air freshener clipped to one of the vents in front of Luca. 

They went straight from the airport to a Timmies drive thru, pausing for a bit longer than usual at the window so that the teenagers working there could take selfies with them. Luca knew those would end up on Twitter later but he pushed that thought aside as Eric drove them to a random parking lot along the river, his hand resting on Luca's thigh for the whole drive. When Luca asked him how he knew about this spot, Eric said that he came here sometimes when he needed some alone time. The house was getting a bit hectic with Cassie nearing her due date and sometimes he just wanted time to decompress.

"I swear she forgets that she's 8 months pregnant sometimes," Eric shook his head disapprovingly, "I caught her the other day standing on a step ladder trying to hang pictures. You know what would happen if Bood found out? He'd kill us both--her for doing it and me for not telling him!"

Luca just chuckled at him. He'd gotten quite close with the Boodram's since moving in with them. His relationship with Bood was comparable to Luca's own with Ilya; although Luca had the added fun of the Hollander family, but he couldn't tell any of the guys about that, not even Eric. Eric had Cassie though, who had taken Eric under her wing the minute he stepped foot in their house. Bood sometimes joked that Eric was good practice for when the baby arrived, seeing as he was loud, he needed a lot of attention, and he was fussy about what foods he ate. On more than one occasion, Eric had tackled Bood for a comment like that. The memories made Luca smile.

“Anyways, what did you want to talk about?” Eric smiled as he sipped on his iced coffee. Leave it to Eric to get an iced drink even when it was freezing cold in Ottawa. He was a true Canadian, Luca thought to himself. 

“Well I just figured we haven’t talked since we, uh, y’know.” Luca tried to tame the blush that rose to his cheeks.

“We talk everyday.” Eric grinned and then popped a timbit in his mouth.

“Shut up, you know what I mean.” Luca said. 

“I’m just messing with you,” Eric chuckled.

He loosened his neck tie before threw it over his shoulder, clearly unfazed wherever it landed.They'd already both removed their jackets, folding them nicely in the back seat before getting in the car but Luca mirrored him, loosening his own tie in an attempt to get more comfortable. Luca watched as Eric rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. His forearms were so strong. Luca forced himself to look back out at the river. He needed to focus. They needed to have this conversation before they went any further with whatever it was they were doing.

“Maybe we can start with the basics?" Luca offered, glancing sideways at Eric who just sipped on his coffee casually, waiting for Luca to start. "Like, I don't know, are you gay?” The question felt so childlike coming out of Luca’s mouth but he needed to know. The thought had been eating away at him for the past few days. He glanced sideways at Eric's arms and then at his face as he contemplated the question. 

“No, I think I'm bi.” Eric said, meeting the question with an unabashed honesty that made Luca's stomach settle, “I’m not a big fan of labels though. They feel restrictive.” 

Eric scrunched his nose up and it made Luca smile.

“Yeah I get that. I guess I'm technically 'demisexual' but sometimes that feels a bit...formal?” Luca added. He felt a knot in his chest untie itself just as the words left his mouth. It was a relief to be so honest with Eric for once, something he had been holding back for so long.

Eric just grinned, “Demisexual, huh? Interesting.”

“What?”

“Nothing, just means you must really like me.” Eric cheekily smiled at Luca. He rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.”

They sat in silence for a few moments as Luca deliberated his next question. He took a careful sip of his tea as they both looked out at the river. There were a couple of men ice fishing out there, bundled in thick layers as they dropped their rods into the water. Luca couldn’t think of a more boring hobby but Eric seemed quite transfixed by it. At least that's what Luca thought before Eric spoke up.

“How long have you known that you were gay?”

Luca deliberated the question for a moment. The answer wasn't exactly a straightforward one, clouded over by internalized homophobia and general confusion over the years. He decided to just be honest about it all, hoping that it would undo some more knots that he didn't know he was harbouring.

“Since high school. If I look back on my childhood, though, there were signs. I guess it was just a bit hard because I wasn’t attracted to many people so it took a bit longer for me to figure it out.” 

Eric nodded, eyes glazed over as he watched the men on the ice, “Yeah, it was sort of the same for me. I figured it out when I was 16 but I was too scared to really do anything about it.”

“So you never had any crushes on guys?” Luca clarified.

“Unless you count celebrities, then no.” Eric chuckled under his breath. 

“What about MLH players?” Luca grinned.

Eric's reply was immediate, “Next question.”

Luca bubbled with laughter. He wanted to poke fun at Eric for that. He had a sneaking suspicion that he could guess who a few of those hockey players might’ve been, but he didn’t want to push it too far, he would save the teasing for another time. For now, as he had Eric blushing and smiling, he needed to get one more question out of the way.

“Did you cheat on Isabelle with me?”

Eric stopped smiling as he snapped his head over to Luca.

“What? No! Absolutely not, I would never do that.” Eric defended. It’s not that Luca thought Eric was the type to do that–-at least, he hoped he wasn’t-–but the thought just wouldn’t leave his mind. He felt another knot come undone in his chest.

“We broke up the same night that she came to the game.” Eric admitted weakly.

“I’m so sorry, Eric.”

Luca was genuinely sorry. Even if he wasn't the biggest fan of the girl, which really had nothing to do with her and everything to do with his own insecurities, he did feel bad for her. She seemed so excited to be there with Eric, anyone with eyes could see the way she looked at him, and Luca had been a complete asshole to her. All because he couldn't push his own feelings aside.

Eric ignored the apology as he fiddled with the straw of his iced coffee, “I just sort of realized that maybe I didn’t like her as much as I was convincing myself that I did.”

Luca reached out to place a hand on his knee. Eric sent him a shy smile before adding, “She was really good about it, though. I think it was hard for us to form a solid foundation, too, with all of the travel.”

Luca nodded as if he understood. He didn’t really, never having been in a relationship before, but maybe he could sympathize a little bit seeing as he was always away from Sophia. Trying to stay in one another's lives through facetime calls and text messages was harder than he thought it would be, but they made it work. He figured that you would always make it work with someone you cared about. Clearly Eric and Isabelle hadn’t gotten there.

“Okay well that makes me feel a bit better.” Luca chuckled nervously, “I really thought I was a home wrecker for a second there.”

Eric genuinely laughed at that, “No, Luca, you’re not the other woman. Man? Person?”

Eric’s confusion made Luca smile.

“I am a man, yes.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Eric glared at him. Luca just laughed.

They fell into a more comfortable silence this time as Luca picked out a jelly-filled timbit. Eric watched as he licked the powdered sugar off of his fingers. He smiled fondly over at Luca.

“So I was on TikTok during the flight.” Eric said.

Oh no. Nothing good ever came after that statement.

“Oh yeah?” Luca prompted cautiously.

“There’s a whole new batch of edits on there. About the plane crash.” Eric studied Luca’s face as he took the information in.

This topic always made Luca nervous. He hated social media, he always had, even before he got to the MLH. But now, being in the spotlight with his best friend–-his, well, whatever they were-–it made him hate it even more.

“What do you mean?”

“Like there’s sad edits talking about how we almost died, compilations of us together, the usual but just with sad music and a black and white filter this time.” Eric explained.

Luca groaned and let his head fall back against the head rest. He could’ve sworn he heard Eric chuckle before he took another sip of his coffee.

“I swear those fangirls know more about us than we do.” Luca admitted.

The idea of it was unsettling, that a bunch of strangers could look at Luca and Eric together and see right through them. It brought on a whole rolodex of worries that Luca hadn’t even had the time to think about until now. 

He tried to think back on conversations he’d had with Ilya about navigating his sexuality in the spotlight. Luca could still picture Ilya tucked into the other end of the couch in their living room, his phone face down on the coffee table as he gave Luca his undivided attention.

"Do not let what other people think, not me or the guys or the media, determine your life." He'd said. Luca didn't really take it in then, unsure whether this thing with Eric would even go anywhere, but the words were much more relevant now. Luca sighed.

“Okay, so how do we want to handle all of this? Do we want to hide it? Do we want to go public?” Luca asked tentatively.

He already knew his answer to that last question but Eric’s immediate “no” gave him a sense of relief. 

“Honestly?” Eric glanced hesitantly at Luca who just nodded, “I just want to enjoy it for a little bit before we open ourselves up to everyone else's opinions.” 

Luca smiled over at him. He reached out and grabbed Eric’s hand which made Eric smile as well.

“I like the sound of that.”

And he did, not only because it would give them a chance to figure out whatever the heck they were, but also because they would be opening a can of worms that had yet to be opened. Sure, Scott Hunter had been the first openly gay player in the MLH, and Ilya and Shane had been dating for years in private, but there had never been two players from the same team openly dating each other before. It was uncharted waters--waters that Luca was terrified to swim in. Just the thought of it made his gut sink.

“The guys might pick up on some stuff though.” Eric added as an afterthought. 

“I mean they haven’t figured out Troy and Harris just yet. And they definitely haven’t clocked Ilya.” Luca countered. He recalled his conversation back in Montreal with Troy about how oblivious their teammates were. It made all of this easier on Luca, in a way, knowing that his closeness to Eric would only ever be viewed platonically, until they decided to correct people.

“I think some of the guys suspect something is going on between Troy and Harris but they’d never say anything about it.” Eric suggested, which piqued Luca's interest. Eric's gaze trailed back over to the river as he continued, “But Ilya is a whole different story. I was shocked.”

Luca chuckled, remembering his own shock when Ilya first came out to him, “When you get to know him a bit better it makes sense.”

“I just thought he was European.” Eric shrugged and removed his hand from Luca’s to grab another timbit.

“Just European? What is that supposed to mean?” Luca laughed.

“I don’t know,” Eric mumbled as he vaguely gestured to Luca, “You guys just have a vibe.”

“A gay vibe or a European vibe?” Luca grinned.

“Same difference. Anyways, I think we just be ourselves and then when we’re ready we can tell the guys. Whether that’s next month or next year, I don’t care.” Eric shrugged.

Luca smiled down at his tea, “Next year?”

Eric’s eyes widened when he realized what he’d said. 

“Oh sorry, I just, uh–”

“That’s very presumptuous of you." Luca couldn't help but smile.

Eric’s floundering turned into a wide smile when he realized that Luca was just teasing him. Instead of saying anything, he just leaned over the console and pulled Luca into a kiss. It was warm and purposeful, like Eric was trying to communicate everything in just a simple few kisses. Before it could get any deeper, Luca placed a hand on Eric's chest and gently pushed him away. His eyes flickered over to where the ice fishers were, far enough away not to see anything but still too close for comfort.

Eric cleared his throat as he got settled in his seat again, “Okay, so back to our previous conversation. Social media.”

Luca groaned as he leaned back into his seat again.

“I know, I know, but we gotta talk about it. Maybe we can schedule a meeting with Harris to go over some ground rules?” Eric suggested.

“Way ahead of you. I asked him to pull back on the Yaas posts when you started seeing Isabelle.” Luca admitted sheepishly, letting his gaze fall back over to the river.

Eric gasped, “I knew it! I asked Harris why he wasn’t posting anything of us but he played dumb.”

“You asked Harris about it?” Luca pushed aside his own embarrassment and raised his eyebrows at Eric. It was Eric’s turn to be embarrassed as he averted his eyes down to his coffee.

“Nevermind.” He mumbled and took another careful sip, “Maybe we could just ask Harris to go back to what he used to post before all of that then? Like we just play up the whole best friend thing?”

Luca nodded slowly along with Eric’s words. He liked the sound of that, just being themselves and not holding back all the time. Besides, they'd always had a very open and carefree friendship, hence why they got relationship allegations in the first place. It would be like hiding in plain sight. He would be professional but he wouldn't let the world control him or his actions towards someone he cared about. Ilya's advice rang through his ears as he looked back at Eric.

“Okay but just promise me one thing.” 

“Anything.” 

“No PDA. All of that stays behind closed doors.” Luca said sternly. 

Eric just grinned and held out his pinky finger, “I promise to keep the PDA to a minimum.”

Luca raised a tentative eyebrow but he looped his pinky finger with Eric’s anyways.

Eric quickly added, “But I make no promises not to stare at you in the shower.”

“Eric!” Luca snatched his pinky away. 

“No, no. I won’t, I promise. I don’t think that would end well for either of us.” Eric laughed. Luca flushed a bright red.

After that they fell into other, less serious conversations; about the upcoming All Stars break, how Eric's grandparents were doing back home, and how Sophia was planning to submit her Canadian university applications this week. He felt much better about everything now that they’d finally cleared the air. The nerves he’d been holding onto the past few days–-heck, the past few months–-had settled in his stomach and he felt exponentially lighter. Now, Luca was just excited. Excited to get closer to Eric, to learn more about himself, and just experience what it was like to be in a relationship. Well, if that's what you would call it. Whatever this was.

A little while later, once the box of timbits was empty and the sun had set, Eric drove Luca back home. He was exhausted. All he wanted to do was hug Shane, have a quick shower, and go to bed. When they pulled into the driveway, Luca smiled at the sight of Shane's Jeep Cherokee.

“Whose car is that?” Eric nodded at the car. Luca's eyes widened. He couldn't tell Eric the truth, not anyways at least, so he came up with the first lie that came to his brain. 

“Oh, uh, Ilya got a new car.” It sounded more like a suggestion than a statement, which made Eric furrow his brows, but Luca hopped out of the car before he could say anything more. Eric popped the trunk and Luca quickly fumbled with his bags.

“Thanks for dropping me off!” Luca called through the empty space to Eric who had turned around in the driver's seat to watch him.

“You’re not going to kiss me goodbye?”

Luca smiled to himself as he pulled the trunk closed and walked around to the drivers side of the car. Eric’s window was already down.

“Of course I’m going to kiss you goodbye.” He smiled and then leaned in to place a soft kiss on Eric’s lips, “Goodnight, Eric.”

“Goodnight, Haasy.” 

Eric waited until Luca got inside before he pulled out of the driveway. He waved at Eric and closed the door behind him softly. There was some commotion from the living room and Luca suddenly realized that he hadn’t warned them that when he was coming back. He dropped his bags with a loud thud and immediately covered his ears.

“I’m home! Please tell me you’re not having sex on the couch.” He raised his voice so that they could hear him from around the corner. 

“We’re not having sex, don’t worry.” Ilya laughed and Luca released a shaky breath.

He rounded the corner and immediately froze at the sight of the living room. There were a million electric candles covering every possible surface; the floor, the tables, the arm chair that he sometimes napped in. They cast a flickering glow across the room, which was otherwise dark, and Luca gasped as he took it all in. When he finally looked up at Ilya and Shane, they were standing on the other side of the couch, grinning at him.

“What’s going on?” He whispered.

That’s when he saw it. Ilya held out his left hand and there was a black and gold band on his finger. His ring finger. It was a bit too small, just hugging his first knuckle, but it was there. Luca’s jaw fell open.

“Oh my gosh!” He covered his mouth with both of his hands, “Are you engaged?”

Ilya just nodded his head excitedly and Luca didn’t even hesitate to sprint towards them. He leapt over the couch like it was a track and field hurdle and pulled them into a bone crushing group hug. They just laughed at him as Luca jumped up and down in their arms, holding onto them for dear life.

“So I have your blessing?” Shane joked when Luca finally pulled away from them. He immediately grabbed Ilya’s hand to inspect the ring. It looked expensive.

“My blessing? Are you kidding me, Shane? You can have my first born child if you want, this is so exciting!” He grinned up at the pair of them.

“Okay, let’s not joke about my fiancé having your child.” Ilya quipped which only made Shane and Luca turn to him with disgusted looks on their faces.

“Ew, okay. That’s gross.” He shook his head as if he was trying to erase those words from his brain before he took a step back and looked between them seriously, “Wait, so you guys are okay? Like actually okay?”

Luca thought back to the Christmas holiday with a bit of a shudder. The last time they were together they had a big fight, one that left Ilya hollow for days. Luca could still picture the state that he’d found Ilya in; lying in his bed, tear stains on his cheeks, looking so small and fragile. He never wanted to see Ilya like that again.

Ilya and Shane exchanged a look, Shane with an apologetic expression painted across his face. Ilya squeezed Shane’s hand and then turned to Luca with a small smile.

“We are good.” He nodded. Luca just smiled and pulled them into another hug, this time much gentler.

“Thank god.” He breathed out. Shane rubbed his back reassuringly and Ilya squeezed them both a little tighter.

Once the excitement of everything died down, Luca took in his surroundings. The coffee table was devoid of candles, as if someone had shoved it aside, and the rug was a little dishevelled. He looked at it and then raised his eyebrows at Ilya, already aware of what it all meant but still hesitant to let his brain go there. 

“Do not ask questions that you do not want the answer to.” Ilya simply replied. Shane scowled at him and hit his chest lightly which only made Ilya grin over at him. Luca nodded slowly and then carefully stepped off of the rug. He did not want to touch whatever it was that could be on it.

“Anyways," Luca sing-songed as he walked back over to where his bag was abandoned in the front entryway, "I’m starving. Did you guys eat?”

Luca hoped that by changing the subject it would erase any awkwardness in the air. Ilya simply wouldn't let that happen.

Ilya grinned, “Well yes, I did eat–”

Shane slapped a hand over Ilya’s mouth before turning to Luca with an innocent smile and flushed cheeks.

“How about you go shower and I order something for us?” Shane offered.

“Great idea.” Luca agreed with a definitive nod before he ran up the stairs. He averted his eyes the whole way, trying to give the pair of them privacy as Shane scolded Ilya.

From his room he could hear Ilya giggling as Shane berated him. He said something about how if Ilya could show restraint around the Pike children then he could do the same with Luca. He was almost offended at the comparison Shane drew between himself and a group of kids under the age of ten but he couldn't stop himself from smiling. They really saw him as part of their family--their growing family--and that was something that he didn't take lightly.

They were fucking engaged. They were going to get married.

Luca smiled to himself and then he turned the shower on, replaying the events of the day in his mind like a film reel.

///

Practice the next day was awkward to say the least. Ilya decided not to go, opting to spend time with his new fiancé instead, which left Luca to cover for him. The questions started as soon as the locker room started to fill up.

"No Roz today?" Wyatt asked with a raised brow.

"Nope. He's a bit under the weather." Luca lied through his teeth, using the same verbiage that Ilya had when he told Luca he wouldn't be going to practice. Luca figured as much, seeing the way that he was wrapped around Shane on the couch, two cups of coffee left to cool on the coffee table beside them. They wouldn't be moving anytime soon.

"Really?" Eric asked quizzically from beside him, "He seemed fine yesterday."

Luca just shrugged. He slid his elbow pad on and strapped it into place, using it as an excuse not to look at any of the guys around the room. He feared that if they looked at him a little too closely then they would see right through him. 

"We're talking about the same guy who played with the stomach flu last year?" Bood added, clearly unconvinced.

"Listen, guys, I don't know." Luca sighed defeatedly, his other elbow pad now secured to his arm, "He just told me to stay away from him so that I didn't get sick."

"Better be careful, Young." Troy smirked as he walked past them, tapping Eric's shin with his stick before he left the room. The joke went over a lot of the guys heads, simply excused by the fact that their lockers were side by side, but there was laughter anyways. Eric quickly jogged after him and a few seconds later they heard Troy yell out in pain. Bood just smiled knowingly at Luca who quickly put on the rest of his gear and joined his teammates on the ice.

With Ilya home "sick", Eric was pushed up to play centre for their first line drills. Luca always loved playing with Ilya, it pushed him to play harder, but there was something about playing with Eric that was unlike anything he'd experienced before. They could just read each other's minds, feel where the other was on the ice. And Luca couldn't help but smile at the way that Eric chewed on his mouthguard as they listened to Troy's feedback. He was trying really hard to be good enough for them so that it felt no different than when Ilya was there. It was, but Luca would never tell him that. It was still good, just different. Luca loved it.

"Young! Haas! You good?" Wiebe called across the ice. They were slowly skating back to their starting positions, almost glued together as they moved in sync, and Luca was whispering his feedback to Eric on how to improve the next time they ran the drill. 

"Yes, Coach!" Luca called back. Young gave him lazy thumbs up and finally parted from Luca to find his spot at centre ice, digesting the feedback that Luca had just given him about Wyatt's glove placement.

"Good. Run it again." Coach blew his whistle. And so they ran it again, weaving in between one another as their defensive line tried to fend them off.

After practice, they were the last ones on the ice. Eric wanted Luca's help with his board battles, which he insisted he sucked at after losing possession multiple times in their last game. Luca didn't argue, it gave him an excuse to be around Eric longer, so he applied pressure and pushed harder so that Eric had to get creative with his puck handling. 

"C'mon, I know...You can do...Better than that." Eric huffed out in between sharp pivots. A new energy sparked in Luca and he shoved Eric in the back to throw him off his balance. Eric only laughed as he let himself be pressed against the boards. The puck was now tucked between his skate and the boards and Luca tried to poke at it with his stick. 

"Now you're just cheating." Luca insisted, skating backwards a bit to give him some space, but still with one arm on his lower back.

"It's not cheating. It's good defending." Eric countered.

Luca finally managed to get the puck away from him when someone whistled from the other end of the rink. They both whipped their heads around. Troy and Harris were there, waiting for them at the player's bench, Harris with his phone held up filming them and Troy pointing at the other end of the rink. The Zamboni was just rolling out onto the ice.

"Might want to hit the showers before you get run over!" Troy called out. Eric and Luca slowly made their way back to the bench.

"He's so dramatic." Luca muttered under his breath. Eric giggled at him.

"That was good, guys! Is it okay if I post that to our story?" Harris smiled at them as they trailed off the ice, one after the other. Eric glanced sideways at Luca who squirted some gatorade into his mouth.

"Yeah, that's fine." Luca nodded.

"Are you sure?" Harris clarified.

He was always so considerate of the guys and their personal preferences; he never posted anything salacious, never fed into any rumours or headlines that made the guys uncomfortable, and he even took the time to learn what types of photos and content the guys liked of themselves. Like how Dykstra loved photos of his tunnel fits while Chouinard hated filming Questions of the Day segments. He'd been so understanding when Luca first asked him to tame the content of him and Eric, even though it performed well on social media, and it only made Luca even more comfortable now knowing that Harris still wanted to respect their wishes. Even as their circumstances had changed. 

"Maybe we just keep things casual? Play into the whole best friend thing?" Luca suggested, turning to Eric for his thoughts.

"Maybe cut out the part where he had me pinned against the boards." Eric joked which made Troy laugh. 

Harris ignored them as he turned his attention to Luca again, "Let's start slow and then if it ever gets to be too much, we can reevaluate?" 

"Thank you." Luca smiled.

"Anytime, buddy. Now, I need a picture of the three of you to post on our story." Harris shuffled out of the way so that Luca could stand on Troy's other side, "That footage of you two is way too flirty to post."

Luca blushed just as Harris snapped the photo. Eric was grinning from ear to ear and Troy had both of his arms around the two rookies' shoulders as if he was proud to be there. Something in Luca's chest settled. He didn't know it was possible to feel this happy--this cared for.

"Adorable." Harris smiled down at his phone.

A little while later, Harris sent Luca the footage he'd taken of them after their practice. Luca watched it more times than he could count. He suddenly understood the online fangirl's obsession with them; just watching this video made his stomach flutter. He knew that if Harris posted this, all bets would be off. People would just know. But Harris wouldn't post it and, in a way, that made things feel even more special. 

Luca smiled and put his phone aside for now. Maybe one day they could share this side of themselves with the world, but for now it was just their little secret. Everything was on their terms and conditions. And that's all Luca needed.

Chapter 25: First Date

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, January 2021

January seemed to pass by in a blur and before Ilya knew it, it was All Stars weekend. As per usual, Ilya and Wyatt were invited to play in the game, which meant that while the rest of their teammates got a week off to do whatever they wanted, the two of them still had to work. The only thing getting him through the week was the realization that he'd get to spend more time with Shane. And it would be in public this time, goofing off as if they were two friends running a charity together, not two lovers who recently got engaged. He'd get to see Shane's ring in person for the first time and just the thought of that made him giddy.

Ilya glanced over at the living room where Eric and Luca were tangled together watching some Disney movie. There was a little blue guy on the screen, wearing a fedora and glasses, walking around in a vat of nothingness. Ilya didn’t pay much attention to the specifics but he did recognize the movie from that one time he babysat the Pike kids with Shane last summer. Shane gently encouraged him to prepare dinner for the kids, which Ilya quickly protested, but within the first ten minutes he’d realized that maybe this wasn’t the best movie for him, so he obliged. It made him smile when he saw the kids all cuddled around Shane though; he still had a picture of it on his phone. 

Back in his living room, he scowled over at the pair of twenty year olds who were watching the movie in complete bliss. He pulled out his phone to text Shane.

Ilya: Young has infiltrated my house

Ilya: I do not like it

Since Luca and Young had started dating–or whatever they were doing–Young had been spending a lot of time at their house. Ilya suspected it was just what young kids did when they liked someone, they wanted to be around each other all the time, try to crawl into one another’s skin if it was possible. What he didn’t expect, however, was that these two rookies would take over his house. He thought that some parental responsibility might fall onto Bood a bit more. When he tried to bring it up to Bood after a practice the week before, he had an easy excuse; Cassie would be giving birth any day now and the less stress on her, the better. So, Ilya had to suck it up. 

It’s not that he wasn’t happy for Luca, he was, but he was still wary. Sure Eric hadn’t done anything outright bad to harm Luca–-quite the opposite, really, Luca had never been so happy and stress free in all the time that Ilya had known him–-but Ilya wanted to be absolutely sure before he let his guard down. It had taken them a while to get to this point and things were still new, so one of them had to be cautious and he knew it wasn't going to be Luca. The fact that Eric left his used mugs around the house wasn’t giving him any brownie points either.

His phone buzzed on the counter. 

Shane: Is Luca happy?

Ilya frowned down at his phone and then over at the couch where Luca was tucked comfortably into Eric’s side. There was a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies sitting on the counter, the sweet aroma filling the house with a warmth that Ilya didn’t want to leave just yet. He snuck another one from the plate and stuffed it in his mouth before replying.

Ilya: Da

Shane: Then leave them be, they’re young.

Shane: We were young once too.

Ilya scoffed down at his phone which made Eric look over his shoulder at him.

Ilya: I am still young

The three bubbles appeared and disappeared a few times before Shane’s next text came in.

Shane: Sure you are.

Shane: I’ll see you at the hotel bar? 5pm?

Ilya rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to drop the conversation just yet but he had to leave anyway.

Ilya: I will be there at exactly 5pm🫡

Shane’s response was immediate this time.

Shane: 4:55pm

Shane: Please text me when you’re taking off.

Shane: And when you land.

Shane: I love you❤️

Ilya smiled down at his phone and quickly typed out a reply before he slipped it into his back pocket.

“Okay, I am leaving now.” He announced and then walked over to the front door where his bags were already waiting for him, “No funny business on my couch while I am gone.”

Luca groaned but decided to ignore the sexual joke that Ilya had just made.

“Bye, Ilyusha! Goodluck.” Luca called after him.

“I do not need luck.” Ilya called back. Luca just scoffed. 

“Have fun, Rozy!” Eric chuckled, “But not too much fun.”

Ilya paused in the doorway. Did he just say what Ilya thought he said? Surely not. Not in his own house.

Ilya rolled his shoulders back defiantly, “Shut up, Young.” 

He could hear Luca still giggling as he closed the door behind him. They’d have to talk about setting some healthier boundaries when Ilya got back. There was no way he could keep babysitting two love sick puppies 24/7. He should probably arrange another call with Galina to go over the specifics but he pushed that thought aside as he plugged his phone into the car and pulled out of the driveway.

///

Even though Luca had the week off, the days quickly filled themselves. He spent most of the time with Eric, whether that be having movie marathons, going for coffee runs to cafes they had yet to explore around the city, or making out on the couch. Only making out, though, anything more than that was reserved for the bedroom, out of respect for Ilya. 

Yuna and David invited him over to watch the All Stars Game, which he had to politely decline. His teammates had arranged a watch party at Chouinard’s house and there was no way he could get away with missing that without raising suspicions. It’s not like he had any other friends or family in Ottawa and he could only use facetime dinners with Sophia as an excuse for so long. 

Instead, he agreed to visit the Hollander’s the night before, to watch the skills competition together. He hadn’t seen them since Christmas and the Hollander’s love language was clearly hosting, so he was excited at the idea. Besides, whenever he came to see them he would get endless bowls of ice cream and a home cooked meal that was better than anything he or Ilya could conjure up; no matter how much Ilya bragged about Luca's cooking abilities. This time Yuna made gyoza which made Luca’s mouth water as they sat around the living room to eat.

“So what’ve you been up to while Ilya is out of town?” Yuna asked.

Luca situated the chopsticks in his hand the way that Yuna taught him a couple months before.

“I’ve been catching up on a lot of sleep.” He said.

“Have you been having trouble sleeping?” David asked as he turned the volume down on the TV. 

Luca shrugged, “The travel has been a lot. I think it’s catching up to me.”

“That’s not good, buddy.” David sent him a worried look. Luca averted his eyes down to his plate as he took his first bite of food. It was warm and hearty. He scooched himself a little closer to the ottoman where his plate was resting. 

Yuna watched him carefully before adding, “You’ve got to come over more often, we’ll take care of you.” 

He smiled over at them, “I know you would. Thank you.”

They turned their attention back to the screen where they were getting set up for the obstacle course. One of Toronto’s players, Dallas Kent, was shifting on his feet at the starting line just as the camera scanned the bench full of players. Ilya was chatting quietly with Shane in the middle of the pack, one of his gloves held up to cover his mouth from the cameras. Whatever he said it got Shane to crack from the death glare he was sending Kent’s way. Ilya just grinned sideways at him and it made Luca smile too. 

“So have you been spending a lot of time with the guys?” Yuna asked. Dallas was having a hard time lobbing the puck into a small net which got a disapproving tut from David. Luca smirked to himself.

“Uh yeah, I have.” He didn’t look away from the screen. It brought him a silent satisfaction to watch Dallas struggle on such a public stage. He was sure that Troy was somewhere smiling as well.

“And how’s Young?” David asked casually.

Luca sat up a little straighter. He forced himself to take another bite of food, trying to act in accordance with the innocent nature of the question.

“He’s good. I was just with him and a couple of the other guys at Holmberg’s condo the other night.” Luca said.

It wasn’t exactly a lie, Holmberg had invited a handful of them over for a pizza and videogame night. Luca and Eric went for a few hours before Eric made up some excuse about Bood needing him to stop at the corner store on the way home; Cassie was having a late night pregnancy craving that only Eric could save them from. The guys didn’t even question it–-that, or the fact that Luca got up to leave with him-–before they drove back home for another quiet night in.

“He’s been playing a lot better lately.” Yuna commented casually, first glancing at David and then back at Luca, “I noticed his board battles have gotten cleaner.”

Luca just smiled to himself and kept eating. Yuna even gave him seconds when he cleared his first plate. A little while later, when Shane inevitably beat Ilya in the skating competition, David sighed and slid a five dollar bill over to Luca.

“No, no! You keep it, David.” Luca chuckled and tried to hand the money back to him. 

David just shook his head, “I’m a man of my word.”

“Serves you right for betting against your own son.” Yuna insisted. She got up to clear their plates.

“There was no winning!” David exclaimed. Yuna rolled her eyes and walked out of the room as Luca just snickered at the pair. 

“We don’t tell the guys about this, okay?” David muttered under his breath.

Luca giggled, “I won’t, I promise.”

///

On the day of the All Stars game, Luca woke up to the sun streaming through his curtains. He stretched out his arms and tried to feel for Eric beside him but he wasn’t there. Luca grabbed his glasses from the bedside table and glanced at the other side of the bed. The bedsheets and comforter were pulled up, pillows perfectly fluffed. The only thing left in Eric’s absence was the little cookie stuffed animal with his legs crossed over just the way that Luca liked. He smiled to himself and got out of bed, quietly making his way down to the kitchen to find Eric already sitting at the island with a cup of coffee. He was using Ilya’s mug, the one covered in cartoon puppies. When he heard Luca walk in, he smiled up at him.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Eric beamed. Luca didn’t say anything, he just walked around the island and hugged him from behind, setting his chin on his shoulder to look down at his phone. 

“Why are you up so early?” He mumbled into the crook of Eric’s neck. Eric always slept in late and Luca often had to set a separate alarm for their away games just to wake him in time for whatever meal or meeting they had to attend. He looked down at Eric’s phone to see an edit of himself; it was a series of clips of him either in practice or media, set to a song he didn’t quite recognize, but had been floating around social media for some time.

“Wait, are you watching edits of me?” Luca chuckled. Eric didn’t say anything, instead he just smiled down at his phone and continued to watch the edit on a loop, “You’re such a simp.”

Luca placed a loud kiss on Eric’s cheek and rounded the counter to make himself a tea. Eric didn’t argue, he just kept scrolling and showing Luca the edits he liked most as they popped up, a big smile plastered across his face the whole time.

“We should film another TikTok together.” Eric suggested. Luca leaned his back against the counter and took a careful sip of his tea.

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh c’mon! I promise this time it will be fun.”

Luca rolled his eyes. The last time he said that, they ended up breaking one of the ceiling tiles at the arena. That was back in October when they were playing sewer ball with the rest of the guys ahead of one of their home games. They got really competitive about it and it was just the two of them left. Luca had missed a bad pass, one that he thinks Eric made intentionally to win the game, and he got frustrated. That led him to kick the ball a little too hard directly at the ceiling, hence the broken tile, and the fallout that came from it. 

While all of the guys were laughing and falling around them, Luca crumpled to the ground in embarrassment, just staring at the tile on the floor. Eric had run directly over to Luca to tackle him to the ground, boasting about his win as Luca laughed and thrashed around under him. The video cut there, an interesting choice by Eric, but the memory was still engraved in his brain. Even now, months later, he still saw clips of that video circulating on social media. 

“I will film a TikTok for you but not with you. How about that?” Luca tried to compromise. 

Eric pouted, "How are we going to maintain this whole best friend angle if people never see us together?"

Luca rolled his eyes but let a lazy grin come to his face.

"They see us together literally all the time." He retorted. All of the fan edits proved that.

“Okay but still, we could have some fun with this, you know.” There was a hopeful edge to his voice that made Luca nervous. He took another careful sip of his tea, “It’s sort of fun messing with the fans.”

“You sound like Ilya.”

Eric chuckled but ignored the comparison.

“What about a fit check?”

“What the heck is a fit check?” Luca raised an eyebrow.

“It’s a video where you show people your outfit and where you got stuff from.” Eric shrugged.

Luca recalled the first time Harris asked him to film one of these supposed 'fit checks'. Some of the older guys teased him for it afterwards, claiming that he was so awkward in front of the camera, but Harris reassured Luca that the fans would love it. Eric also loved it, apparently, as he'd filmed quite a few of these types of videos with Harris since. Everyone knew that Eric loved the camera and, as such, he quickly became one of Harris' favourites. Harris would never admit this but if his relationship with Troy meant anything, it was that he clearly had favourites. Anyone with eyes could see that; well, at least Ilya, Eric, and Luca could see that. 

“We’ve been living in sweats lately.” Luca said after a moment of deliberation.

“Well, what if we had a reason to dress up?” Eric smiled at Luca like he’d just gotten an idea. Luca raised his eyebrows over his mug as Eric walked around the island to stand directly in front of him. He caged him against the counter which made Luca blush, “What if we went on a date?”

Luca set his tea down carefully on the counter behind him as Eric wrapped his arms around his waist. He jokingly hummed as if he was considering it. Eric scoffed.

“I would like that.” Luca giggled. He wrapped his arms loosely around Eric’s neck.

Eric smiled.

“Okay, then go get ready,” He placed a kiss on Luca’s cheek and then nudged him towards the staircase. Luca obliged, taking his tea with him, “And wear something nice! For the TikTok.”

Luca rolled his eyes, “I always wear something nice.”

Eric just laughed. They both knew he was right–-Luca loved fashion, maybe it was the European in him--but he’d be lying if he said that dressing up for thousands of people to judge him on TikTok didn’t make him a bit self conscious. He might have to break out some of those clothes he bought with Ilya back in California.

///

Fifty takes and one successfully edited TikTok later, Luca and Eric were in the car headed to a surprise date location. Luca had no clue what Eric had planned but it didn’t matter. He’d never been on a date before and he was just excited, smiling to himself as he played lazily with Eric’s hand on his thigh for the whole ride. 

The nerves only settled in once they exited the car. Luca couldn’t hold onto Eric’s hand any longer, suddenly quite aware of the fact that they were walking around Ottawa on a sunny and relatively warm Saturday in January. Everyone was out trying to make the most of the weather before the sun went into hiding again and Luca couldn’t blame them. Luca tucked his nose a little further behind his jacket as they walked down the street.

It was a hit or miss whether people recognized them in public. When it was the whole team together or if Luca was with Ilya, they would for sure be recognized, but sometimes Luca could get away with going to the grocery store or a local cafe without anyone stopping him for photos. He couldn’t quite tell whether people recognized them as they weaved between families and couples, Eric chattering away about how he supposedly found the best bagel shop in Ottawa, but the little voice in Luca’s head wouldn’t let him settle. It convinced him that people were staring, following them all the way down the street, coming to conclusions that didn’t make sense based on the appropriate distance Luca maintained from Eric. He decided to just follow Eric’s lead. He seemed much more confident about their outing and he was the one with the plan anyways, so Luca really had no need to worry. 

“After you, sir.” 

Eric held the door to a small cafe open for him. Luca smiled and ducked inside, letting the warmth and smell of freshly baked bagels wash over him. His glasses immediately fogged over and he quickly took them off to clean them. The ignorance of not being able to see properly gave him a bit of comfort as Eric maneuvered them around the busy tables over to the takeout counter. Whether intentional or not, Eric stood so that Luca could turn his back to the busy cafe--to whatever prying eyes may recognize them and spike Luca's heart rate any further. 

“They have really good tea lattes here. I saw a review about that online.” Eric leaned in to say. Luca smiled to himself and slid his glasses back up his nose. He glanced up at the menu that was hanging above a display case full of baked goods. Everything was handwritten in colourful chalk and there was even a little pride flag taped to the wall. 

Luca took a deep breath. He was safe. There was no reason to be nervous. 

When they got to the counter and ordered, Luca paid for them. Eric tried to protest, he even suggested that they play rock, paper, scissors over it, but Luca just rolled his eyes. The barista behind the counter smiled between them. It was clear that he knew who they were just by the way he looked at them but he didn’t say anything about it. Instead he left a “Go Centaurs :)” message on both of their cups in black sharpie. Luca pretended not to notice Eric snap a quick picture of their drinks while he looked at some of the paintings on the wall done by local artists.

The cafe was a bit cramped for Eric's liking so he led them along the river until they found a bench to sit on. Eric carefully unwrapped his bagel and took his first bite.

“Oh my god, that’s so good.” He moaned. 

Luca chuckled at him and took a bite of his own. Eric was right, it was good, maybe the best bagel he’d had since coming to Canada. He would never tell Shane that, though. He’d argue that Montreal had the best bagels and that argument just wasn’t worth it.

He took another bite and then glanced over at the river. There were plenty of people out skating, some appearing much more confident than others. Luca smiled at a dad who had a hold of his son under the armpits, zooming the two of them around the ice with a practiced ease. The kid was laughing as they passed by everyone else in a blur. 

“That’ll be Bood one day.” Eric nodded over at them.

Luca smirked, “If his knees can handle it.”

Eric laughed. Bood was the oldest on the team and they never let him forget it. The fact that he was going to be a dad soon was still so weird to Luca. He could still picture Bood's unimpressed expression when LaPointe said that he was old enough to be a grandfather. It even made Ilya laugh. Luca smiled at the memory.

“How’s the tea latte?” Eric asked.

“It’s milky. I like it.” Luca took another sip. Eric just smiled at him.

They sat in silence while they ate, just watching all of the people around them. Eric would make the occasional comment every now and then--about a pre-teen who had good puck handling skills for their age or how he liked someone’s scarf--but other than that it was quiet. Eventually a young couple and their son came up to ask for a photo, which they happily did. When the little boy asked if he could sit with Luca, he didn’t hesitate to pull him into his lap.

“Is this okay?” Luca asked as he wrapped his arms around the small child, propping his chin on top of his head. The little boy just giggled and Eric shuffled closer so that they could smile for the camera. They took a couple of selfies with the parents in it as well and then they were left with their half-empty coffee cups and a lingering smile on Luca’s face. 

Eric had yet to move from where he was saddled up next to Luca, his arm still resting on the bench behind his back. Luca took a shaky breath and glanced all around them; no one else was looking at them, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Eric pressed his thigh a little firmer against Luca’s, as if reading his anxiety, which made Luca smile into his latte.

It was nice just getting to exist out in public like this. Even with his breathing unsteady and his heart beating in his chest, Luca wasn’t going to take it for granted; not everyone got this opportunity. He couldn't help but think about Shane and Ilya who, even after all of these years, couldn’t do something as simple as sit on a bench in public and eat bagels. It was something so simple and yet so far out of their reach.

He wondered what they were up to in Anaheim. They were probably busy with all of the media they had ahead of tonight’s game, hence why they didn't respond to his good luck text that morning. Ilya had texted him nearly everyday since he left just to check in on him. He'd also sent him the occasional drunken selfie--either with Wyatt or Shane, even one with Scott Hunter--telling him how much they missed him. He could've gone to the All Stars Game if he really wanted to, Ilya got family and friends tickets which he was excited to share with Luca, but it had been a long month and Luca was craving some downtime. If Ilya was sad about that, he didn't show it or make Luca feel bad for staying home. He was grateful for that now as he smiled over at Eric who waved excitedly at a couple of golden retrievers as they walked by with their owner.  

When Eric finally removed his arm from behind Luca's shoulders he frowned over at him.

“Okay, now for the main event.” Eric announced and he slipped a chocolate chip cookie out of his pocket.

“Wait, when did you get a cookie?” Luca furrowed his eyebrows but held out a hand for the larger half that Eric had broken off.

“When you were staring at the paintings.” Eric chuckled and then took a bite. Luca mirrored him and they chewed in quiet contemplation.

“I would say that’s a solid 7 out of 10.” Luca said.

Eric gasped, “Below an 8? We must document this.”

He was already fiddling with his phone and scrolling through his notes app to find their catalogue of cookie rankings from their travels. Luca just rolled his eyes at him.

“It’s not warm anymore so it’s hard to tell.” Luca shrugged. 

“Okay but if it was warm what would you give it?” Eric wagered.

“Probably an 8.” Luca said at the same time as Eric did, in a very poorly executed Swiss accent.

“Shut up.” Luca hit him in the chest while Eric just laughed at him. He finished typing in their rankings and then smiled over at Luca.

“Should we go to our next stop?” Eric asked. 

“Next stop?” Luca raised an eyebrow, taking another bite of his cookie. Eric was already standing up.

“Yes, you didn’t think we were just getting bagels did you?” Eric joked. Luca blushed and then jokingly slapped away the hand that Eric held out to help him stand up. 

“I can stand on my own, thank you very much.” Luca joked as they started their journey back towards the car.

“I know you can, I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand.” Eric said quietly. Luca glanced all around them but he couldn’t help the smile that came to his face. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t just reach out and grab Eric’s hand here. Instead he decided to hold Eric’s hand the whole drive to their next destination to make up for it.

///

A big smile spread across Luca’s face when they first walked into the pottery painting storefront. There was a whole selection of ceramics, everything from dishes to figurines, on the far wall and small tables dotted around the room with their own set up of paint and glaze. The place was completely empty except for a small elderly woman who greeted them with a warm smile.

“Eric?” She asked.

“Yes, that’s me. So sorry we’re late.” He smiled sheepishly. Luca looked between the pair of them, confused.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve still got plenty of time.”

She kindly explained to them the whole process of picking out your ceramic and then your paints. She offered them a wide selection of paint brushes and tools to work with and even got them set up with aprons to protect their clothes. When they felt confident in the process, she politely excused herself to the back room and told them to shout for her if they needed anything.

Luca smiled giddily over at Eric as they stood in front of the ceramic display wall.

“Did you book this whole place for us?” He asked.

Eric scratched the back of his neck anxiously.

“Do you like it? I just know that you haven’t had much time to do art lately so I figured it would be nice to–”

Luca cut off his anxious ramblings with a quick peck on the lips. Eric’s eyes widened and then darted over to the doorway that the elderly woman had just walked through. Only when he realized that they were completely alone did he smile at Luca.

“So I take it that you’re happy with this date idea?” Eric asked.

“I’m more than happy.” Luca spun on his heel and looked at all of the options on the wall, “Can I paint you something?”

Eric chuckled, “I mean yeah, if you want to.”

Luca smiled over at him as he carefully chose a mug from the wall.

“Okay then you should paint me something too.” He decided, before picking up another mug and handing it to Eric, “It’ll give you motivation to do your best.”

Eric’s eyes widened as he accepted the mug.

“Are you sure? I think I got a D+ in grade 9 art class.”

Luca laughed, “Well then I can’t wait to see what masterpiece you make for me today.”

///

“I think I slayed this.” Luca smiled down at his mug. The cartoon puppies were coming along well, much better than he expected them to when he first thought of the idea.

“Slay? What is it, 2016?” Eric snorted from the other side of the divider. Luca’s cheeks grew warm as Eric met his gaze.

“Hey! I’m ESL, it takes me a bit longer to catch onto these things.” Luca joked.

Eric just rolled his eyes, “Sure it does, Haasy.”

“You’re just jealous that I can speak fluently in multiple languages and you can’t.” Luca slipped into Swiss-German with ease. Eric narrowed his eyes at him, following the way his lips were moving but not quite tracking the words that came out of his mouth.

“I don’t even think that was a language, just a bunch of gibberish.” Eric chuckled.

“What about French? Surely you learned some of that in school growing up?” Luca switched into his mother tongue this time. All Eric could do was stare at Luca blankly, a small smile rising to his face as Luca continued.

“I think I got maybe three words out of that. Did you say something about Après? Like drinking after skiing?” Eric asked seriously, only smiling when Luca fell into a fit of giggles, “I’m really good at that.”

“So much for that Canadian public school system.” Luca snickered.

“Whatever,” It was Eric’s time to roll his eyes, “Not all of us could afford private school.”

Luca’s smile slipped from his face but Eric didn't seem to notice, looking back down at his own mug and dipping his paint brush into the same blue paint over and over again. It was a joke, Luca tried to remind himself, but there was clearly a bit of truth to it. It wasn’t the first time he’d made a joke like that, the last time being when they were first getting to know one another. Since then, they hadn’t talked much about their respective family dynamics, just the basics, so Luca tried not to be upset by it. 

“How’s your mug coming along?” Luca asked, forcing a smile onto his face.

“Definitely better than yours.” Eric stuck his tongue out the side of his lips as he focussed on his work, “Okay, I think I’m done.” 

He dropped his paint brush triumphantly. Luca had already been done for a few minutes but he hadn’t said anything. He was a little scared to see Eric’s creation but he schooled his face in preparation for whatever he was about to see.

“Are you ready?” Eric grinned over the divider at him. Luca nodded excitedly.

When Eric raised the mug up to show him, Luca had to slap a hand over his mouth to stop the laugh that threatened to surface. It was a collage of a bunch of Luca’s favourite things; everything from chocolate chip cookies to hockey sticks to a very poorly done self portrait of Eric. The only thing that looked somewhat okay was the Swiss flag but that wasn’t exactly the hardest thing to paint.

“Oh wow! It’s really…beautiful!” Luca exclaimed. His voice sounded like that of a parent who was watching their child do something incredibly unimpressive and yet endearing all the same. A slow grin spread across Eric’s face as he watched Luca’s reaction.

“Shut up. You’re such a bad liar.” Eric laughed.

“No, I’m not lying,” If his high pitched voice didn’t give him away then the giggling did, “It’s really quite...something.”

“Okay whatever, let’s see yours then, Picasso.” Eric chuckled. Luca presented his mug above the divider and Eric practically melted in his chair.

“No way! It’s just like the one you guys have at home.” He reached out a hand for the mug and carefully took it by the handle. Luca was never the best at painting, he often preferred sketching, but he was quite proud of the mug that he’d painted for Eric. It helped having the motivation of Eric’s smile throughout the process.

“Wow, these are great!” The elderly women appeared out of nowhere to inspect the mugs.

Luca smiled warmly up at her and she explained how they would have to come back to pick them up the following week, after they’d been fired in the kiln. Eric quickly paid, they thanked the woman, and left with dumb smiles on their faces.

Only when they got in the car did Luca finally pull out his phone. He had some notifications from his Haas-Hollanov group chat (which Ilya named, of course).

Ilya: Luca

Ilya: I saw your TikTok, very nice

Ilya: You looked better than Young

Ilya: Did I buy you that sweater?

Ilya: Luca?

Ilya: Lucaaaaaa

Ilya: Luca answer meee

Shane: Ignore him.

Shane: We have five minutes in between interviews and he’s bored.

Ilya: Lucaaaaaaaaa

Ilya: You better not be having sex on my couch😠

Luca rolled his eyes and took a photo of his hand on top of Eric’s as it rested on his thigh. They both had splatters of paint on their hands and it was clear that they were in the car. He sent the photo first, followed by a quick text.

Luca: Sorry, we were on a date! Eric took me to paint pottery☺️

Luca: Do you still have time to call? 

Luca: We’re going to watch the game with the guys soon but I could maybe slip away for a few minutes?

“Who are you texting?” Eric asked. He glanced down at Luca's phone with a smile before returning his eyes to the road.

Luca chuckled, “Just Ilya. He wanted to make sure we weren’t doing anything on the couch.”

“Damn, that was my plan for the next part of our date.” He grinned over at Luca who couldn’t help but blush, “But I guess your bedroom will have to do.”

Luca squeezed his hand a little tighter and looked out the window for the rest of the drive.

Chapter End Notes

Been thinking about this first date for a little while, I hope you enjoyed it <3

ALSO, I wrote a new one shot called "A Special Walk" which gives Eric's POV of the walk him, Luca, and LaPointe went on during one of Bood's bonfires back in Chapter 13. Go give it a read if you've been craving some of Eric's perspective on things heehee

And lmk what other one shots you may want from this series, I'm really enjoying writing from other character's perspectives!!

Chapter 26: One Day

Chapter Notes

Anaheim, February 2021

Ever since their crash landing the month before, Ilya had a hard time getting on planes. As he sat waiting for his flight back to Ottawa, he could feel the unsettling hum of anxiety start to grow in his chest. Shane had just left him for his own flight back to Montreal and they'd exchanged a very friendly, bro-hug goodbye in the Delta lounge, surrounded by business men who definitely knew who they were but pretended not to as they took their highly important phone calls. He quickly popped a Xanax, which Galina had prescribed him the month before for this very reason, and waited for the intrusive thoughts to settle. 

“Your coffee, Mr. Rozanov.” A young server with a kind smile placed his coffee on the table in front of him. He’d preoccupied a small booth in the corner of the lounge in an attempt to hide himself away before the flight; clearly his ballcap and sunglasses, which were now tucked into the front of his t-shirt, weren’t doing much.

“Thank you.” He forced a small smile back at her, already reaching for the handle of the small cup. She lingered for a moment, clearly wanting to say something, and Ilya took a careful sip of the warm drink. He really didn’t have the energy to socialize right now, as made evident by the ballcap tucked low on his forehead, but he also didn’t want to be rude so he glanced up at her.

“Everything okay?” He asked. The cup clinked as it met the saucer again.

“Sorry, yeah. I’m just a big fan.” She blushed and glanced nervously around the lounge, “My manager told me not to bother you but I just wanted to say that. Anyways, I’ll leave you to it. Have a safe flight.”

“Is okay. You want to take a picture?” He insisted, already scooting out of the booth.

Her eyes widened, “Really? I don’t want to disrupt.”

“Nonsense, come here.” He threw an arm around her shoulder as she nervously fiddled with her phone. She quickly tried to slide open the camera but not before Ilya could see her phone background, which was one of the shirtless photos that Harris had taken of Luca last November for their Black Friday merch drop.

“Ah, you are a fan of Luca.” He smirked and leaned over to fit into the frame beside her. Her cheeks tinted a dark shade of red as they both smiled for the photo.

“Thanks so much!” She beamed down at the photos and then up at him.

“No worries. I will tell Luca I met his #1 fan in the Anaheim Delta lounge.” He joked. She smiled to herself and thanked him again before quickly getting back to work.

Ilya’s brain was already feeling a bit lighter as he sank back into the booth. He sipped on his coffee and pulled out his phone to scroll through social media, knowing he still had time before take-off. It was the usual carousel of posts; a video of golden retriever puppies climbing over one another, some guy talking about his new motorcycle, a recipe for brownie cookies. He saved that last one for his next baking night with Luca.

When a video of Young and Luca popped up on his feed, he paused. At first he thought it was a typical fan edit but he quickly realized that wasn’t the case. It was a compilation of clips, both on and off the ice, of Young existing in Luca’s shadow. There were clips from post-game interviews where they only asked him about Luca, shots from their social media taken out of context where it looked like the team favoured Luca more than Young, and even some clips of the pair of them during pre-game warm-ups where it looked like Luca was annoyed by Young’s antics. The slow-motion clips of Young’s reaction to some of these things–-where his smile would falter ever so slightly–-paired with the sad song in the background made Ilya’s heart sting.

Surely people didn’t actually believe this, Ilya thought to himself. He opened the comment section to see what some of the fans were saying. It only made him more sad.

@CensFan81: Eric is always overlooked it makes me so sad 🙁

@eyoungforever: Hey Siri, play Not Strong Enough by boygenius 

@ily_luca281: I’m a Haasy fan and even I know that Young would be so much better off if he was traded to another team

Ilya scrolled the comments for what felt like forever. Some fans disagreed but there was a general consensus that Young always came second to Luca; in skill, in the way that their team treated him, and even amongst the general public. 

Ilya wondered if Young had seen any of these comments. He didn't have to worry about Luca, he hated social media more than Shane did, so he didn’t have to worry about that. Young, on the other hand, was fairly active on social media which concerned him. After dealing with the media storm between himself and Shane the past 10 years, Ilya knew exactly what it was like to manage the public's expectations with a budding relationship in private. The last thing he wanted was for that same thing to happen to Luca and Young.

He searched for Young’s TikTok profile and pulled up the latest fit check video he’d posted with Luca. The comments were exactly what Ilya expected; a bunch of young fangirls pointing out Young’s heart eyes and the way that Luca checked out Young when he was explaining the details of his outfit. All of it was harmless as far as Ilya was concerned. To the average person, it was just a silly video of two best friends hanging out on a random Friday afternoon. He could deal with that, so long as the general public viewed the pair of them in a positive light, he had nothing to worry about. Luckily there were no negative comments that he could find in Young’s comment section; nothing comparing them or pitting them against one another. Nothing that supported the same narrative that Ilya had spent the last 20 minutes studying. 

“Now boarding all passengers to Ottawa.” 

Ilya jumped at the sound of the overhead announcement. He made a mental note to talk about this with Harris when he saw him next and quickly collected his things from the booth. For now, he just needed to get through this flight back home. 

When he walked into the house later that evening, he half-expected to come home to a sink piled high with dirty dishes, the living room pillows strewn around the living room, and faint coffee rings stained into the coffee table from where Young kept leaving his damn mugs. Instead he came home to a perfectly clean house, the delicious smell of garlic coming from the kitchen, and Luca doodling on the couch.

“Wow, Mitshuka, you’ve really outdone yourself.” Ilya grinned as he rolled his suitcase into the main living area.

“Ilyusha!” Luca beamed up at him. He threw off his headphones and jogged over to pull Ilya into a big hug, which he welcomed with open arms and a soft chuckle.

“What smells so good?” He ruffled Luca’s hair as they pulled away.

“I made your favourite.” Luca grinned as he headed back over to the stove top to stir the pasta sauce, “I got the recipe from David but it’s my first try at it, so go easy on me.”

Ilya chuckled and perched himself on one of the stools at the kitchen island. He wiped a hand across the surface, welcoming the cold feeling as it settled into his palm. He sank a little deeper into the stool. It was good to be home. 

“How was your break?” 

Luca smiled down at the pot of boiling water that he was stirring pasta into.

“It was good.”

“Just good?” Ilya raised his eyebrows.

“Well, it was kind of great.” Luca sheepishly admitted. Ilya grinned.

Luca busied himself by getting a couple of bowls from the cupboards as well as some cutlery and napkins from different drawers around the kitchen. It made Ilya smile to see him so comfortably navigate the kitchen, like he always belonged there. He couldn’t put into words just how lucky he was to have Luca to come home to. It made the hectic schedule, the anxious flight, and the expansive distance from his fiancé feel much smaller, all having to fight for space in his brain with the happiness that Luca brought simply by being there. 

Ilya wanted to say all of this, to tell Luca just how much he cared about him, but for some reason the words just wouldn’t come out. Instead he opted for something more light-hearted.

“You didn’t have to cook for me. We could’ve just ordered something.” 

“Don’t be stupid.” Luca said, finally pulling the chicken out of the oven and arranging each of their plates with David's famous chicken parmesan, “This is a celebratory meal.”

“A celebratory meal?” Ilya repeated, confused.

“Yes, because you won the All Stars Game.”

Ilya grinned as he watched Luca perfectly arrange the plates, almost like he worked at a 5 star restaurant. It smelled like they were in a 5 star restaurant. As if one cue, Ilya's stomach grumbled. Luca smiled over at him and carefully grated some fresh parmesan over their plates.

“Ah yes, that is a great accomplishment.”

“But you lost the fastest skating competition, so I didn’t make a dessert.” Luca added with a cheeky grin. He slid Ilya’s plate over to him. Ilya gasped as he watched Luca take his own plate back over to the living room where he was sitting before.

“Only by 0.3 seconds!" Ilya huffed and followed Luca back over to the living room, "Was basically a tie.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

They ate their dinner in a comfortable silence while they watched Friends. They finished all 9 seasons of How I Met Your Mother a couple weeks before, which resulted in many tears by the last episode. Luca insisted it was just because of allergies but Ilya didn’t say anything about it, instead he quickly introduced the rookie to Friends, which for some reason, Luca hadn't seen before. Ilya refused to live with someone so uncultured. 

"I'm a Gen Z, Ilya, not uncultured." Luca had corrected him. He also called Ilya old, which he had quite literally tackled Luca for. Millennials were not old. Well, Scott Hunter was a millennial and old, but he was the exception. Ilya, on the other hand, was young and cool. And he'd be damned if Luca thought anything different.

Ilya took a careful swig of his diet coke as the credits rolled for another episode. Luca was fading, curled up into the other side of the couch with one of their throw blankets, and Ilya knew it would only be a matter of time before he went to bed. Ilya didn't want to let him go just yet, he was enjoying Luca’s company too much, so he did the only thing he could think to wake the rookie back up.

“So Shane and I decided to get married this summer.” He casually mentioned, taking another swig of his drink.

Luca snapped his head over to him, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. 

“Really?” He asked with a big smile on his face, “That’s so exciting!”

Ilya’s heart warmed, “And we are going to tell everyone.”

Luca’s eyes grew impossibly wider at that.

“Wow.” His brain seemed to short circuit as he processed the new information, “So what does that look like exactly?”

Ilya shrugged. They hadn't really talked about the details, just that they would get married and come out to the public that summer. Ilya was so enthralled by the idea that he didn’t bother to ask Shane about the plan. He was just happy to finally have Shane on board. 

“Are you going to tell the guys?” Luca asked hesitantly.

“I think so, probably,” His answer didn’t seem to provide Luca much comfort, so he added, “I think Troy wants to do that soon. Maybe I will steal his thunder.” 

Luca knitted his eyebrows together. 

“Did Troy not tell you?” Ilya asked. Troy had briefly mentioned it to him before he left for Anaheim so he just figured that he'd mentioned it to Young and Luca as well. 

“Uh no, he didn’t. Maybe he told Eric.” Luca pulled out his phone and started typing, presumably to ask Eric if he knew anything more. He seemed unnerved by the idea.

“What are you feeling?” Ilya asked, turning so that his whole body was facing Luca now. The rookie sighed and tossed his phone onto the coffee table. He ran both of his hands through his hair and leaned a little further back into the couch.

“I don’t know, I think I’m just scared.” He admitted.

“Of what?” Ilya probed. There was a wash of emotions that ran across Luca’s face then, all passing by too fast for Ilya to make sense of. He nudged him with his foot, “Luca just say it.”

“I’m just worried that if you come out and Troy comes out then people will definitely know about me and Eric.” He finally admitted, almost painfully. His eyes were squeezed shut so that he didn’t have to see Ilya’s reaction.

“Mitshuka.” Ilya said tenderly. Luca slowly opened his eyes to meet Ilya’s own.

“I’m sorry, I know that’s so selfish of me and that you guys have been hiding for so long and you deserve happiness–”

“Luca.” He cut the younger boy off with a firm tone. Luca immediately went quiet and averted his eyes to his phone which was buzzing on the table. Ilya sighed and leaned over to turn it off, seeing a bunch of texts from Eric come through. He noticed the series of emojis beside Eric's name, including a chocolate chip cookie, and while it made his heart warm he didn’t say anything about it. 

Luca was fiddling with the strings of his hoodie when Ilya looked back over at him. 

“People on the internet are stupid.” He started. Luca tried to interject, mumbling something about how they clearly weren’t that stupid if they were able to pick apart their relationship one clip at a time, but Ilya persisted, “They do not know anything. They fill in the gaps to entertain themselves, but as far as everyone is concerned, especially the wider MLH audience, you and Young are just two best friends playing good hockey together. Okay?”

Ilya thought back to the video he’d seen earlier that day. His words held so much more weight than Luca even realized and he wanted to keep it that way. If Luca was overwhelmed by people shipping the two of them together, he would be absolutely destroyed by the idea of people trying to tear them apart. Ilya would do anything to stop that from happening.

“I’m just not ready for any of that.” Luca mumbled.

Ilya pressed his lips together as he took the younger boy in. Luca started to close in on himself, his hands still fidgeting nervously against his chest and his knees pulled a little tighter to his body. His eyes were glazed over as he stared at the empty space between them on the couch. Ilya leaned over and placed a comforting hand on Luca's knee so that he would look up at him. 

“When you decide to come out, that will be entirely on your own terms, okay? Nobody is going to take that from you.” Ilya tried to put as much confidence into the words as he could muster. Luca nodded shyly as he met Ilya's gaze, “And if anybody does, I will personally hunt them down and kill them myself.”

Luca managed a small smile at that which Ilya took as a win. He patted his knee.

“Now, go talk to Young about whatever he thinks is going on with Troy and I will clean up down here.” 

Ilya started to collect their dirty dishes while Luca organized his drawing stuff from earlier on. There were a few napkins from one of the Hollander’s favourite bagel shops downtown, each with their own Disney character doodles on them. Ilya smiled at them before he went over to fill the dishwasher. Luca came and leaned against the doorframe to watch him.

“Thank you, Ilyusha.” Luca said emphatically.

Ilya continued to busy himself with the dishwasher, popping a pod in and turning it on. Then he turned to the pots and pans and started to rinse those in the sink. He didn't look at Luca, scared that the young boy might see right through him. It had been an emotionally charged day, one that left him with a lot to think about in terms of managing his own emotions with the responsibility of looking out for his rookies, and he just needed some time to clear his brain.

“No need to thank me,” Ilya insisted, “Is my job to talk you off of the many ledges you find yourself on.” 

“This probably won’t be the last ledge.” 

He almost said it like a warning which made Ilya finally meet his gaze. Luca looked tired but he had a small smile on his face, a sad smile. 

“I am always here for you. I do not care if I am halfway across the world and it is 3am, I will be there. Everytime. You know this, right?” Ilya insisted.

Luca simply nodded.

“Good.” Ilya turned back to the dishes, “Now get to bed, we have an early morning tomorrow.”

“Don’t remind me.” Luca groaned dramatically. Ilya chuckled to himself and started scrubbing one of the many pots in the sink.

///

If you’d told seventeen year old Ilya that one day he would be filming a brand deal with Tim Hortons he would’ve laughed in your face, but that’s where Ilya found himself the morning after he landed from All Star weekend. Luca sat across from him, fiddling with a lukewarm tea on the table in between them. He was getting his make up touched up and Ilya absentmindedly brushed away some of the powder that had fallen onto the collar of his sweater.

“Thanks.” Luca mumbled bashfully, sliding his glasses back up his nose as the make-up artist moved over to Ilya.

The whole scene was kind of ridiculous, Ilya had to admit, but it was Luca’s first brand deal so he kept that thought to himself. Farrah had presented countless brand deals to Luca over the past couple months but he was hesitant. He always had some sort of excuse–-that the season was too busy or the travel schedule was too packed–-but Ilya knew better. He knew that Luca was nervous to step into the brand deals side of his career; scared that he’d make a fool of himself in a random sportswear advertisement or accidentally align himself with the wrong company. 

Yuna had tried on numerous occasions to get him to start somewhere. She explained how it was good to start building a brand for himself before others did it for him, but Luca just wanted to focus on his game. So when Tim Hortons approached them for a joint brand deal and Luca didn’t seem entirely turned off by it, Ilya quickly jumped on the opportunity. That’s how he found himself sitting in a random Tim Hortons in Ottawa, clearing his throat for the next take.

“Okay guys, let’s take it from the top.” The director smiled from behind the camera. With a quick countdown of his fingers, Luca snapped into character.

“Don’t they normally get Canadians to do these commercials?” Luca asked with his eyebrows knitted together.

Ilya had to admit, Luca was a bit of a natural when it came to acting. He supposed that Luca may just have an artistic side to him, one that would likely make these brand deals much simpler as he progressed through his career. It almost felt like they were having a normal conversation, just the two of them, except with countless cameras and warm flood lights pointed at them. 

“Da but we are basically Canadian.” Ilya shrugged and took another sip of his coffee. It was cold now.

“I don’t know about that.” Luca chuckled, “I mean, what do you know about Canada?”

Ilya raised his eyebrows challengingly.

“Try me.” He egged Luca on. 

Luca just rolled his eyes and started rattling off random Canadian trivia that Ilya hadn’t even known half of before they got their scripts, like what the national animal was and what medical invention was founded there. Ilya got them all right, except for the final question, which had been a bit of a challenge for both Luca and Ilya to get through up until that point.

A wide grin spread across Luca’s face and Ilya thought he might break again. He managed to school his own expression as he waited for Luca to ask the final question.

“Who is the best hockey player in Canadian history?” Luca asked.

Ilya scoffed, as if the question was the easiest one yet, “Wayne Gretzky.”

Luca shook his head disapprovingly and pointed over to where another actor was standing with cue cards held up for them, almost like an SNL skit. 

“That’s not your line. It says Shane Hollander.” He countered.

“Like I said, Wayne Gretzky.” Ilya dead panned. Then he sent a cheeky wink down the camera and the director yelled cut.

“That was perfect guys! Let’s quickly get the cue card shot.” The director beamed. 

The rest of the shoot went about as smoothly as one might expect. They took a few orders from fans through the drive thru, had a fake argument over what the best donut was, and Ilya even had a meltdown over the confusing buttons on the cash register. He knew that would make for a good behind the scenes video whenever their commercial officially launched. By the time they were pulling out of the parking lot and headed to the practice facility, Farrah was already calling them to see how it went. 

Luca shyly admitted that it went well, going so far as to say that he might be open to another shoot before the playoffs rolled around. Farrah was already prepared and started explaining some of his options. Ilya already knew about Gatorade and Bauer, who were both eager to jump on Luca’s growing success in the MLH, but he had yet to hear about some of the newer options. 

“Oreo were actually interested in a joint shoot with you and Eric, if that’s something you were interested in.” Farrah said. Ilya glanced sideways at Luca who had seemingly lost all capacity to speak English once she made that suggestion.

If brand deals were already nerve wracking to the young rookie then Ilya could only imagine the rolodex of worries that were floating through his brain at the thought of doing brand deals with Eric. Ilya, on the other hand, wouldn’t say no to the Oreo PR packages that would inevitably show up at their door. He pushed that thought aside for now. 

“Thank you, Farrah. I think we’ll talk it over and get back to you on that one.” Ilya said calmly. Luca sent him a half smile as Ilya handled the rest of the conversation and hung up a short while later.

Luca had taken a sudden interest in the snow falling outside so Ilya took that as a sign that he didn't want to talk about it, at least not yet. They had already had a busy morning, filming for hours on end, and they were about to have their first practice back since the All Star break, which was going to be tiring for all of them. He hadn't expected Luca to push it either, so when he spoke up, it caught him by surprise.

“I can’t take that opportunity away from Eric, can I?” Luca asked quietly, still looking out the window.

Ilya’s thoughts trailed back to the TikTok video he saw the day before. It had given him a new perspective to the start of their careers; one where Luca was clearly the media darling and the one that countless brands wanted to partner with, while Eric was not. It triggered a few familiar chords in Ilya's brain that he wasn't quite ready to address just yet.

Ilya hated to say it but he almost couldn’t blame them. Luca was giving the Centaurs organization something to be hopeful about, someone who they could build a future around. And while Eric was a talented kid, it just wasn’t the same. 

He was an amazing player, a strong center for their second line, someone who was fun to watch on the ice and incredibly charming off of it, but he wasn’t a Luca Haas. Luca Haas’ only came around every so often and everyone knew that; Ilya had known that from the moment he’d been drafted two years prior. A small part of Ilya figured that Eric knew this too but he would never say it. Instead, he did what he could; he grew his social media pages, he was bubbly and charismatic in the interviews he was asked to do, and he worked hard. He was doing it all very well, even if he didn’t get nearly as many accolades as Luca. 

Ilya sighed.

“You can do whatever you want. It’s about the both of you, not just him.” He said reassuringly. 

Ilya wasn’t entirely sure that he believed the words coming out of his mouth but he said them anyway. Sure, it may be a bit selfish of Luca to turn down a brand deal that would be a big deal for Eric, but he also understood just how nervous the shared spotlight made Luca. Even if that spotlight only made the two of them shine brighter.

“Yeah but he hasn’t had any other brand deals outside of this.” Luca admitted.

Ilya let the words hang between them as he pulled into the practice facility. They politely waved at some of the fans that gathered around the front gate and Ilya waited until they were safely in the parking garage before he continued.

“Maybe you can talk to him about it after practice.” Ilya suggested, already unbuckling his seatbelt. Luca nodded and mirrored him. They both got out of the car and grabbed their bags from the trunk before making their way into the practice facility.

“Maybe it would be good.” Ilya suggested as he held the door open for Luca.

“Good?”

“Da, good. Maybe it’s just a fun brand deal that you get to do with your best friend. You can eat cookies, make some money, is as simple as that.” Ilya shrugged.

They walked in a comfortable silence as Luca considered this. He gained a bit more confidence as they neared the locker room.

“You’re right. It’s not that deep.” Luca said. It was almost as if he was trying to reassure himself by saying it out loud because there was still an undertone of anxiety to it. Ilya didn't want him to go into their practice that way so he grinned.

“Is only as deep as you make it.” Ilya said cheekily. Luca’s face contorted into something emulating disgust as they walked into the locker room.

“I don’t even know what that means but it sounds gross.” Luca laughed.

Ilya laughed too. Within a few moments he was pulled into an argument between Bood and Dykstra about the music playing on the AUX. Even with the shitty country music blaring through the locker room speakers, Ilya felt himself settle. He was home.

///

“C’mon, Young!” Coach Wiebe called across the ice as their second line finished the offensive drill, “I know you can do better than that!”

Eric was having a bit of an off practice, probably just first-day back cobwebs, and he'd started to get frustrated with himself as practice went on. Eric huffed under his breath as he circled behind the net and skated back along the boards to where the rest of the team was lined up. Their third line started their turn but Luca just watched Eric as he scuffed the tip of his blade against the ice. Ilya nudged his shoulder and said something to him that made Eric smile. Luca smiled to himself and turned back to the drill where the fourth line was getting set up.

At the end of practice Luca had every intention of talking to Eric about the Oreo brand deal. He’d thought about it all practice; the pros and cons, what sort of buzz it would create online, and how Eric would feel about it. He decided that he would just casually mention it to Eric and see what he thought before making a final decision. Unfortunately, things never panned out the way that Luca wanted them to.

“Hey, do you have an agent?” Is the first thing that came out of Luca’s mouth once they got off the ice. Eric turned to Luca with a confused expression as they walked back to the locker room.

“I do.” He said slowly, a low chuckle escaping him.

Well that was a dumb question.

“Sorry, of course you do,” Luca laughed nervously, trying his best to keep up with Eric who seemed to be speed walking back to the locker room for some reason, “I just meant, like–”

“Chiron!” Eric squealed as they entered the locker room. Sure enough, a very cute dog who looked like Chiron on steroids was in the locker room, already surrounded by Ilya, Wyatt, and Harris.

Eric immediately jogged over and practically fell against Ilya who was kneeling on the floor, scratching the dog happily behind the ears. Ilya gave Eric an unimpressed glare as Chiron turned to greet him, tongue wagging happily out of the side of his mouth.

“You’re so big, buddy!” Eric coo’d, ruffling the top of his head. 

Luca practically melted at the sight, especially when Eric turned to smile up at him and urged him to come say hello. Before Luca could, Chiron saw him lingering in the doorway and bounded over to him. He jumped up against Luca’s stomach, almost pushing him over amidst the excitement. 

Luca laughed, “Hello you big fluff ball!”

“Chiron, no. Get down.” Harris immediately scolded the puppy. Chiron didn’t listen, instead he tried to reach up to give Luca sloppy kisses on his chin, “Ugh, you’re so bad.”

There was no real bite to Harris’ tone. It only made Luca smile wider as Chiron finally hopped off of him and went back over to Ilya who was always so eager to give him pats.

“Don’t listen to him, Chiron.” Eric pouted up at Harris and then down at the puppy who was now lying on his back, basking in all of the attention he was getting, “You’re perfect.”

“Perfect? I’m not so sure about that.” Harris scoffed, “Chiron got some bad news this week. Although, I don’t think he’s too sad about it.”

Luca chuckled as he walked over to his stall nearby and took a seat, already undoing the laces of his skates.

“Bad news? What is wrong?” Ilya asked, clearly alarmed.

“Turns out he’s not therapy dog material. At least according to the trainers.” Harris frowned.

Harris was trying to get Chiron certified as a therapy dog so that he would have an excuse to bring Chiron along for more Centaurs events; whether that be for away games or their visits to the local children’s hospital. It was all a matter of semantics as far as Luca was concerned, they all knew that Chiron would be around as much as possible anyways, if not in a professional capacity than as Ilya's personal cuddle buddy.

“Impossible.” Ilya shook his head.

Wyatt just coo’d down at the puppy, “We love you anyway, buddy. I sucked at school too.”

“Big shock there.” Eric snorted. Luca laughed as Wyatt reached around Ilya’s back to flick Eric in the ear. Eric shoved his hand away, almost knocking Wyatt off of his balance from where he was kneeling in all of his gear.

“What will happen to him?” Ilya asked Harris seriously. He completely ignored the guys bickering on either side of him. 

Harris smiled down at them.

“Nothing bad. He’s still going to be the official team dog, but he’ll need a home away from the arena.” He supplied.

Luca could think of a handful of people who may be interested in taking him, Ilya being the first on the list, so it surprised him when Ilya didn’t immediately offer. A small part of him was also sad that they wouldn’t be getting a new roommate.

“You will adopt him.” Ilya said matter of factly.

Harris let out a startled laugh and explained that he might be able to bring him back to the Drover Farm, where his family often fostered dogs. At least, that’s what he’d mentioned on countless occasions, right before he'd invited Luca to come and visit them. Luca had yet to take him up on that offer but maybe if Chiron was there he would drag Eric along for an afternoon of running around with puppies in an apple orchard. It sounded like a fun second date just with a third, fourth, and maybe even fifth wheel, depending on how many dogs they had.

When Troy finally walked back into the room and Harris’ attention was drawn elsewhere, the conversation dissipated. Eric left Ilya to have his moment alone with Chiron and came to sit in his stall beside Luca. He had already removed half of his gear by that point but he still needed to talk to Eric about the brand deal so he paused and watched as Eric started to unlace his skates.

“So about your agent.” Luca started.

Eric smirked up at him, “Do you want his number or something? I’m sure he’d be happy to take you on as a client.”

There was an edge of humour to his voice that made Luca chuckle.

“No, no. Sorry, I’ve got my own, that’s not what I meant.” He stammered, “Her name is Farrah, she’s great.”

“That’s good.” Eric said offhandedly, like he wasn’t entirely sure where the rest of the conversation was going.

“I was actually just talking to her before practice.”

“Oh yeah, you guys filmed with Timmies today, right? How’d that go?” Eric asked. It's not that he didn't care about the brand deal but Luca knew that the was asking more out of formality than genuine interest. Luca felt himself getting more frustrated the longer he put off the question. 

“It was fine, but that’s not what I wanted to talk about.” He sighed exasperatedly and ran a hand through his hair. Eric sat up straight again so that he could properly address Luca.

“Hey, are you okay? You seem kind of frazzled.” Eric asked. He placed a hand on Luca’s knee and Luca immediately stiffened. He stared down at it and then around the room to see if anyone else noticed. Eric seemed to notice this and he cautiously removed his hand, “Sorry.”

Luca sighed again, this time because he felt bad about rejecting Eric's attempts to comfort him. 

“Sorry, I’m not, I didn’t mean to–”

But before he could apologize for his anxiety and then actually explain the brand deal, Troy cleared his throat. He was already standing on one of the benches across the room. He was shirtless and had a very stunned-looking Harris staring up at him.

“Hey, everyone.” He announced loudly.

The conversations around the room got quieter but they didn’t immediately stop, so Ilya yelled out, “Everyone shut up and listen to Barrett.”

A silence spread across the room as they all turned to Troy.

Oh shit. Surely he wasn't about to...

“Just one thing,” Troy said. He took a deep breath and let his shoulders fall comfortably before announcing, “I’m dating Harris. We’re together. I’m gay.”

Luca’s jaw fell open. A silence hung in the air for a moment–-a moment too long for Luca’s liking as his heart began pounding in his chest-–and then Ilya started applauding. One by one, the applause spread across the room and then it developed into whistling and cheering. Troy slumped against his locker, appearing relieved, and a wide smile spread across his face.

“I’d like that to stay in this room for now. Please. Okay. Thank you.” He said. Then he stepped down and fell into Harris’ waiting arms. The cheers and whoops continued as Troy dipped Harris and kissed him, boldly and unabashedly, in front of the whole team.

"Oh my god." Luca whispered to himself, still in shock as the rest of the team started to surround them in a huge group hug.

"C'mon!" Eric beamed.

Luca didn't even have time to worry about the way that Eric grabbed his hand and pulled him into the edge of the celebration. The whole team was smiling and laughing, each of them reaching over and ruffling Troy's hair as they happy couple clung to one another in the middle of the group. Luca couldn’t quite explain how happy he felt just being a part of this moment; getting to witness the whole team not just welcome Troy and Harris’ love, but celebrate it like it was the fucking Stanley Cup. Luca never thought he’d be in a locker room like this. Not that he ever thought the guys were homophobic, just that hockey was never a very inclusive sport. He thought he’d be sworn to secrecy and shame for the rest of his career, maybe even his life, but that feeling started to fade away as they all hugged one another.

From his left, he felt Eric squeeze his shoulder. He glanced over at him, amidst the chaos of the guys trying to figure out what their ship name was, and saw that Eric was already staring at him. He was smiling wide but he had tears in his eyes. Luca squeezed his shoulder back. They didn’t need to say anything, they just had to look at one another to know that everything was going to be okay. There was hope for them that one day, when they were ready, they could have this moment too. Luca was sure of it.

It brought a wave of calm over Luca as Bood found his way through the ruckus to pull Eric and Luca into a big hug. Suddenly his worries about the brand deal and the public’s perception felt so small. None of that mattered in the grand scheme of things. What mattered were moments like this, moments of celebration with the people he loved most. It put everything into perspective for him and he made a promise to himself to remember this feeling whenever he felt anxious about his relationship with Eric in the future. 

The celebrations eventually died down after each of the guys had their individual moment to go and congratulate Troy and Harris personally. Eric was still clinging to Troy as a teary-eyed Harris watched on and Luca took the moment to glance over at Ilya. He was sitting on the floor with Chiron again, speaking to him quietly in Russian. Luca couldn't understand him but it didn't take a genius to put two and two together. All he had to do was look at the sad smile on Ilya’s face. 

Luca glanced down at the imprint of Ilya’s engagement ring under his compression shirt. His heart panged. One day Ilya would get this too and the idea of that almost made Luca more excited than thinking about when his own day would come. Luca clung to that hope like his life depended on it.

They would get their day in the sunshine. 

One day.

Chapter End Notes

Sorry for the delayed update, guys. Life got a bit too real there and I've hit some writers block, but we're trying to push through :)

Also, I'm curious how you guys picture Eric. Do you have a fan cast? I've got a couple ideas but always happy to hear your thoughts!!

Chapter 27: Sleepover

Chapter Notes

New Jersey, February 2021

“You seem lighter.” Sophia commented from the other end of the FaceTime call.

It was far too late for her to be awake but he refrained from making any comments about it. It was no use, he knew that no matter how much he pestered her about it, she would just do whatever she wanted anyways. Today’s unprompted excuse was that she had a big Chemistry test coming up.

Luca sat in a quiet corner of the airport terminal waiting for their flight to Boston. He glanced around carefully at his teammates who were spread across the private terminal. Most of them were doing their own thing, listening to music or napping. Wyatt even had a book pulled out which surprised Luca, normally it was a comic book. Even if none of them were paying him any attention, he couldn’t be too careful. There were too many French speakers around to risk it.

He slipped into Swiss-German just in case, “Do I?”

“Oh, spoke too soon.” She joked, also switching into Swiss-German so that it was easier for the both of them to translate one another.

Luca rolled his eyes but let an easy grin come to his face.

“The guys are here.” He panned the camera around to show them. Sophia chuckled when she saw LaPointe sprawled out in his chair, his hat covering his face as he tried to get a quick nap in before they boarded. Luca was envious of the way that he didn’t get nervous ever since the crash. 

When Ilya caught sight of Sophia on Luca’s phone, he waved. Sophia waved back, even if Ilya couldn’t see her. 

“No but seriously, you seem happier. I’m guessing that might have something to do with Eric?” She smiled, bringing them back to their conversation. Even with his earbuds in, Luca blushed. Luca had already told his sister about his relationship with Eric and she was ecstatic for them. Well, after she reminded Luca that she called it back in November. 

“Things have been great.” 

“So elusive.” She chuckled. 

Luca wanted to tell her about Troy and Harris coming out but that wasn’t his place. Not until the pride game, after which he imagined that she’d have even more “I told you so’s” for him. She saw the way that they looked at each other in that booth back at Monks. That was after the Boxing Day game when the pair were still fooling themselves about their feelings for the other. They weren’t the only ones. Luca physically shook his head to rid himself of the memory. It was kind of embarrassing in hindsight.

“We got offered a brand deal with Oreo. Eric is excited about it.” He said. 

“And what about you? Are you excited?” She furrowed her eyebrows, not entirely convinced.

“I am.” He said.

And he was, honestly. After Troy came out, Eric and Luca talked about the Oreo commercial. Eric was over the moon about it and that alone brought Luca a sense of calm. He would do anything to see Eric smile like that, even a stupid Oreo commercial.

Farrah and Yuna were both pleased that he wanted to keep growing his brand partnerships. Farrah said that she would deal with the logistics alongside Eric’s agent and keep them posted. Then Ilya had a serious conversation with Luca about setting healthy boundaries with the public, a conversation that resulted in Luca deleting social media apps from his phone entirely. Seeing all of the buzz online only made him more nervous, he realized, and with a bit of gentle coaching from Ilya it didn’t take much for him to hand over that responsibility to Farrah’s team as well. Besides, he had enough people to keep him in the loop without him needing to be on the apps himself. 

They all agreed that it was just best for Luca to focus on what he could control and not what he couldn’t. One of those things was his own sanity and, based on Sophia’s analysis, he already seemed to be doing better.

“Good. You deserve that.” She said emphatically. 

He smiled to himself. 

“You know what you deserve? Some sleep.” He retorted instead of delving into a mushy conversation.

Sophia rolled her eyes.

“I’ve gotta figure out these stupid…polymerization reactions.” She switched back into French when she realized that she didn’t know what the translation for those words were in Swiss-German. Luca chuckled. He didn’t know what she meant regardless of what language she chose.

“Okay well please go to bed soon or else I’ll worry.” He tried anyway. 

“You’ll worry either way, Luca.” She said affectionately but then she promised to go to bed as soon as she was done with her notes, which Luca had to accept. They quickly said their goodbyes before Luca picked himself up off the ground and went back to his seat beside Troy, who was in an animated conversation with Eric.

He tried to ignore them as he pulled out his travel-sized sketchbook again and continued with the doodles he was doing before. It was nothing exciting, just some optical illusions and funky patterns, but it distracted him just enough from thinking about the flight they were about to get on. Just as he was about to shuffle through his playlist, Eric’s excitement caught his attention. He popped out an earbud to listen in.

“Maybe we could go out! Roz, what are some of the best spots in Boston?” Eric nudged Ilya’s arm. Ilya didn’t lift his head up from his phone, where he was entranced by something on social media, instead he just sent a death glare in Eric’s direction through his eyelashes.

“Do not touch me, Young.”

There was no real bite to his words so Eric just chuckled at him.

“Oh come on, Roz.” Eric said with a wide smile, “You love me.”

Ilya really didn’t have an argument for that, even if Eric did get on his nerves, so Ilya just returned to the boy’s previous question.

“You are not even legal in the States.” Ilya said matter-of-factly. 

“That’s a great point.” Troy added, clearly unimpressed with Eric’s attempts to make plans while they were in Boston. 

Last Luca was a part of their conversation, Troy had been sulking about leaving Harris and Chiron for a few days. Not that he hadn’t done that countless times before, even since they'd officially started dating, but Luca supposed that since coming out he could be a bit more honest with his feelings. He empathized with him as he tried to push aside the growing sadness he felt over not getting to be with Sophia in-person.

Eric glared jokingly between the pair, “Ah yes, because that has stopped us before.”

There were many times that they had gotten the rookies into a bar or a club that they really shouldn’t have been in. Luca snickered at Ilya’s and Troy’s blank expressions–-he had them there.

“Besides, surely Ilya Rozanov can get us in somewhere.” Eric clapped a hand on Ilya’s shoulder. Ilya chose to ignore the physical touch this time.

“Ilya Rozanov can do this, yes, but Ilya Rozanov already has plans after the game.” He didn’t even look up from his phone this time.

“Ooooh, Rozy’s got a date.” Dillon sang teasingly as he walked by. 

Ilya just grinned down at his phone. Luca tried to hide the smile on his face as well. He knew that Ilya had dinner plans with Svetlana so that he could tell her about his engagement in person. Luca had yet to meet Svetlana but he knew how much she meant to Ilya so he was really looking forward to hearing about it afterwards. 

“Oh no, guess that means we can’t go out.” Troy said sarcastically.

Eric deflated at the idea. He probably wasn’t that sad about it, they’d watch movies and eat cookies together like they always did, but there was something about the face that Eric was giving Troy that made Luca want to do something about it.

“We could always have a team movie night?” Luca suggested after a moment of quiet. Some of them had done it in the past, all squeezing into one of the guys’ rooms, buying snacks from the vending machine and watching a cheesy romcom together. It had been awhile since they’d done that but Luca thought that might appease Eric.

It didn’t but it did spark something new behind Eric’s eyes.

“I have an idea!”

“Oh no.” Ilya joked, somehow following the conversation even though he was still scrolling on his phone.

“We could have a slumber party!” Eric exclaimed just a little too loud for the setting. 

Luca giggled as some of their teammates turned to him with confused expressions. LaPointe, who was a notoriously heavy sleeper, even stirred a bit. His ballcap slipped off his face and onto Chouinard’s lap beside him, who carefully placed it back in its original place without waking the boy.

“Count me out.” Ilya said immediately.

It was at that moment that they got called up to board their flight. Luca fell in line just ahead of Eric and Troy who were still bickering about the idea of having a slumber party. It was such an outlandish idea, they all knew it would never happen, but Eric pressed on anyway.

“The last thing I want is to be a part of whatever it is that you’ve got going on.” Troy said vaguely, gesturing towards the two of them. Luca blushed just as Bood inserted himself in the conversation.

“Why’s that, Barrett? Scared that the rookies will keep you up all night?” He joked. 

Luca blushed a deeper shade and instinctively looked around at their teammates. If any of them had overheard the joke they didn’t show it. They were oblivious anyways, to them it was nothing more than a joke about the rookies’ age, not the sex joke that Bood had intended it to be. Bood snickered to himself as Luca pushed past him into the tunnel. The voices behind him echoed as they followed him.

“Okay, how about this: if both of us score in our game tomorrow then we have a sleepover.” Eric suggested.

“Make it you, me, and Luca.” Troy countered. 

Luca snorted. Looks like he’d just have Eric to himself. It didn’t sound like a bad idea.

“Deal.” Eric agreed.

///

Luca wasn’t quite sure if it was luck or the universe playing some sort of sick joke on Troy, but by some miracle the three of them scored against Boston. When Eric scored his goal on an empty net in the final seconds of the third period Luca was the first to look over at Troy.

“You know what this means right?” He grinned cheekily at Troy who was a few guys down from him on the bench.

Troy glanced over at where Eric was celebrating a bit too hard for an empty net goal. To the untrained eye it appeared a bit unsportsmanlike, they were already winning the game before he scored, but to the rest of the guys on the team it was hilarious.

Troy just scowled.

After the game, Eric got tapped for post-game media which he begrudgingly agreed to, even if it meant that he had to momentarily stop teasing Troy over their plans for the night.

“I don’t know how you put up with him.” Troy grumbled as he walked past Luca towards physio. Luca just chuckled to himself and kept peeling off his sweaty gear as he watched Chouinard and Dykstra dance along to whatever country song Dykstra had picked out for their post-game celebrations. 

When Eric returned from post-game media, he slunk back into his stall. The energy he’d been buzzing with since leaving the ice was no longer there, instead replaced by a vacant stare and a nervous hand that he raked through his damp hair. Luca nudged his thigh.

“How’d it go?” He asked. 

Eric didn’t get pulled for post-game media very often but Luca knew that he was a natural at it. From their very first press conference-–the one where Luca was almost annoyed by how much happier LaPointe and Eric seemed to be answering such pointed questions–-Luca knew that Eric was built for this. He was just so naturally charming. It was one of the many things that attracted him to Eric from the very beginning. 

Eric startled, almost like he was remembering where he was. He forced a smile onto his face, one that didn’t quite pierce his dimples the way that it usually did, as he started to undo his laces. 

“Same as usual.” He shrugged. Luca opened his mouth to pry further, clearly picking up on the weird energy that Eric had walked back into the room carrying, but Eric quickly interjected, “Where’d Troy go? I want to ask him what movie he wants to watch tonight.” 

“Physio.” Luca answered slowly, still studying the boy.

“Ah okay, maybe we can talk about it later then.” Eric waved the idea off and then went into a tangent about how rough some of the Bears players were during the third period. 

///

“You’re going to make me sleep on that?” Troy exclaimed when he stepped into their hotel room later that night. 

Behind him Bood and Wyatt were laughing at the cot that Eric had ordered up to their room. It was really just to make Troy feel more comfortable seeing as he probably didn’t want the rookies to share a bed with him there. Eric wasn’t there to explain the rationale behind that decision, he was busy in the shower, so Luca just shrugged.

“You guys are unbelievable.” Troy shook his head and stepped around the cot to go claim Eric’s bed.

“Okay, well have a good night, guys!” Bood exclaimed with a shit-eating grin on his face, “I’ll be right next door if you need anything, Troy!”

Troy flipped him off as he pulled out his phone and started scrolling. Wyatt and Bood laughed when they left the room, leaving Luca and Troy to sit in silence. They could faintly hear Eric singing in the shower but neither of them said anything about it.

It’s not that the silence was awkward between them but Luca found himself growing antsy in Troy’s presence. He flipped through the channels trying to find a movie to watch, his thoughts trailing elsewhere as he grew increasingly aware of Troy’s presence for the night. 

“So, what’s Harris up to?” Luca asked to break the silence.

Troy smiled, still looking down at his phone.

“He’s with his family tonight. Look,” With a few clicks on his phone he leaned over to show Luca some photos that Harris had sent; a delicious dinner spread, a selfie of Harris with whom Luca could only guess were his sisters, and a pile of dogs all lying on top of one another in the corner of a cozy looking living room. Luca smiled.

“I’m jealous.” He admitted.

“Me too.” Troy sighed and started typing on his phone again. Luca turned his attention back to the TV screen, pausing to read the description for some new action movie on Netflix. He figured that Troy would prefer that to whatever Disney movie they would’ve picked out themselves.

“You’ve met them right?” Luca asked, referencing the picture of Harris with his sisters.

Troy hummed in response.

“And it went well?” He asked tentatively. Troy glanced over at him but Luca never looked away from the TV, saving the action movie for later, and checking to see that there was nothing else of interest to him.

“Are you asking because Eric wants you to meet his grandparents?” Troy asked. Luca cursed under his breath. Of course Eric told him that. He should’ve known.

Eric and Troy had gotten quite close ever since the plane crash. They had a lot in common; they both grew up in Vancouver, they didn't have any siblings, and they had complicated relationships with their parents, of which Luca wasn’t entirely aware of the specifics. Eric never went into much detail about his nor Troy’s situations but Luca knew that he would find out in due time. For now, Eric had Troy to turn to with those sorts of conversations and it had only brought them closer.

“Maybe.” Luca shyly admitted. 

The water shut off in the bathroom and Luca fumbled with the remote. Troy glanced over at the bathroom door and then sighed.

“Well I can tell you two things,” He lowered his voice now so that Eric couldn’t hear him, “First, I was absolutely terrified to meet Harris’ family but I had no reason to be. It went really well. They welcomed me with open arms.”

That didn’t surprise Luca in the slightest. If Harris’ family was anything like Harris then they were probably some of the nicest people in the world.

“And the second thing?” Luca prompted, lowering his voice as well.

“Eric is really excited to introduce you to his grandparents. He’s only told me like seventeen times.” Troy chuckled. Luca smiled to himself. 

“Luca! Where’s my deodorant?” Eric yelled from the bathroom. Luca flinched at the sudden noise but he called back to tell him that he might’ve put it in his own toiletry bag accidentally. 

Troy glanced cautiously at the door and then back at Luca.

“It’s going to be fine.” Troy reassured him with a small smile, “Plus, I think you need some family time right now. Ilya and the guys can only fill that hole so much.” 

Luca looked down at his hands which were still fidgeting with the remote. He had plenty of family time, not that he could ever tell the guys that, so instead he just sent Troy a tight-lipped smile. Eric suddenly came out of the bathroom with a wall of steam following after him. He paused in the doorway and grinned at the two of them.

“Cookie time?” He asked happily.

Luca smiled. Troy looked between the pair of rookies haphazardly.

“Do I want to know what that's a code word for?” He asked cautiously. They just laughed at him.

///

At the restaurant, Ilya’s phone kept buzzing on the table.

“If that is anyone other than your fiancé I’m going to be pissed.” Svetlana said as she spooned some more ice cream into her mouth.

Ilya rolled his eyes but stuck his own spoon back into their shared sundae before checking his phone. It was The Centaurs Closet🏒🌈 groupchat. He opened up the messages just to make sure that no one had died–or worse, been outed–only to find a screenshot of Dykstra’s Instagram story, which Harris had sent into the chat. It was a photo of Eric, Luca, and Troy in their hotel room, having their so-called slumber party.

Harris: *photo*

Harris: Uh, can someone explain this?

Young: We’re having a sleepover🥰

Barrett: I’m not here by choice

Barrett: I lost a bet

Ilya chuckled to himself.

“What?” Svetlana asked, watching him as he scrolled through the messages.

“Just the guys being stupid.” He supplied.

“What’s new?” She joked.

Ilya smiled as new messages came in.

Harris: I’m not even going to ask…

Harris: How do we feel about this being on socials?

Ilya took another look at the photo. Eric and Luca were lying in the same bed, eating their milk and cookies as they always did, and Troy was tucked into the other bed by himself. He also had a small plate of milk and cookies on the bedside table which Ilya was surprised to see had been half-eaten. They were all watching a movie together, the faint glow from the screen illuminating them just as Dykstra took the photo. It was harmless, really, but the Yaas shippers would probably have a field day seeing Luca and Eric in the same bed; even if Eric was still on top of the covers and they were a respectable distance apart. If they noticed the empty cot at the bottom of the photo, that might just give them more ammo for their conspiracy videos.

Barrett: Too late, I guess

Young: I think it’s cute

Young: Just three buddies having a very platonic sleepover😁

Harris: Okay, don't make it weird

Harris: Luca? What about you?

Ilya furrowed his brows as he waited for Luca’s response. The three little dots beside his icon appeared and disappeared multiple times before a response finally came through.  

Luca: It’s ok, Harris! You can re-post it if you want☺️

Ilya settled once he saw that text. He liked the photo before turning his phone off and returning his full attention to Svetlana, who was unperturbed by him being on his phone, too busy looking around the restaurant at different patrons. 

“So,” She waved her spoon lazily in the air, “When do I get to meet Luca?”

Ilya snorted, “Never. You will corrupt him.”

She scoffed.

“Corrupt him? I would never do that.”

The lazy grin on her face said otherwise. Ilya couldn't quite picture what a meeting between Svetlana and Luca looked like; the two of them preoccupied different parts of his brain, that's how dissimilar they were. If he had to guess, he figured that within 5 minutes Svetlana would teach Luca a handful of new Russian curse words, how to kick back a shot of vodka without making a sour face afterwards, and god knows what else. The thought was equally exciting and terrifying.

“But seriously, I want to meet this kid who has made you so soft.” She teased.

“I am not soft.” He insisted as he dipped his spoon back into the half-empty sundae glass.

“Ah, so it wasn’t him. It was just a coincidence that he moved in and you became…this?” She gestured to him. Ilya ignored her.

“You would like him,” Ilya said, thinking about Luca now, “He is sensitive though, so you’ll have to be nice.”

“I’m always nice.” She said. Ilya sent her a pointed look and she gasped in protest, “I am!”

“Yes, I remember how nice you were to Shane the first time you met him.” Ilya teased.

That was a couple summers ago when they invited her up to the cottage for a week. One of the first things she said to Shane was how he had a weak backhand; not that he hadn’t heard it before, Ilya reminded him often, but maybe a hello would’ve been nicer. It didn’t take long for them to warm up to one another though. They got along like a house fire, taking every opportunity to have Ilya wait on them, and making fun of him in between that. Svetlana loved telling Shane stories from their childhood. It made Shane happy so it made Ilya happy too, even if he was a little embarrassed at times. 

“Your Luca is interesting.” She continued, sitting back in her chair to study Ilya as he continued to spoon ice cream into his mouth. He figured she was about to delve into his playing style, which was quite advanced for his age, but instead she said, “Him and that other rookie.”

There was an edge to her tone that Ilya recognized immediately. He was grateful that in this busy restaurant they were still speaking in Russian.

He hummed, not letting Svetlana in on much more. Not that he needed to.

“They remind me of a couple other players I know.” She crossed her arms on the table in front of her. He knew exactly what she was getting at but he wouldn’t let her win.

“Is that so?”

“Da.” She said confidently, “Might have to get ready for another wedding.”

Ilya narrowed his eyes at her. She cocked her head to the side, challenging him to fill in the blanks that were never empty in the first place. He silently cursed her for being so perceptive; it was one of her most beautiful qualities and yet also the most unnerving.  

“You see a lot of yourself in him, don’t you?” She pivoted, knowing that Ilya would never out Luca like that. This question didn’t bring him much more comfort though. He nodded his head anyways, raising his napkin to dab at the corners of his mouth. He let his spoon fall into the empty sundae glass with a clink.

“And how is that going? Being a dad and all?” She continued.

Ilya chuckled, “I’m not a dad.”

“No? But that is what everyone on social media is saying.” 

“Ah yes, because social media knows everything.” Ilya joked.

She shrugged, fully aware of the headlines and posts that might arise from their outing together that very evening. Ilya thought he may have successfully diverted their conversation but if there was one thing that Svetlana was, it was persistent.

“I worry about you, Ilyusha.” 

Ilya snorted, “No need to worry about me. I am fine. I am engaged, I have house in boring suburb in Canada, I have a rookie who cooks me dinner. All I need now is a dog.” 

Svetlana studied him for a moment longer and Ilya tried his best to hold her gaze in a way that didn’t show the worries he was hiding away in his brain. To let her know how he was really doing.

The joy that he felt immediately following his engagement had started to wither away and the sadness started to spread again. It equally confused and irritated him. Wasn’t he supposed to be happy? Wasn’t he allowed to be happy? 

He’d talked it over with Galina–-about how stupid it was for him to think that getting engaged would solve all of his problems. She gently reminded him that that’s not how it works. He had so much going on at the moment; he was leading the team to what could be a very promising play-off run, balancing his happiness and jealousy over Troy’s plan to come out, trying to manage Luca’s budding romance with Eric in a way that protected the two of them from everything that he had experienced himself, all while trying to remind himself that Shane wasn’t going to up and leave him on a random Thursday morning just because he didn’t send an I love you text before practice. It was all just so much. His brain felt like it was going to explode.

He knew deep down that he could explain all of this to Svetlana. She would listen and snap him out of it in a way that Galina never could but he couldn’t bring himself to say any of it. Instead he just stared at her as she leaned back in her seat again. An exasperated sigh escaped her lips.

“I am always here if you need me.” 

Ilya smiled at her, “I know, Sveta.” 

After staring at him for a moment longer, allowing herself to bask in the worry that she so freely expressed, she seemed to snap out of it.

“Good. Now, let’s pay the bill and get the hell out of here.”

“Are you paying?” Ilya joked. She waved over the server while simultaneously glaring at Ilya.

“Nice try.”

Chapter End Notes

Guys I saw my first TikTok comment of someone recommending this fic to others and it made me cry :')

Just seeing so many people rally around this fic brings me so much joy, I can't even express it but thank you thank you thank you <333

Chapter 28: Pride Game

Chapter Notes

Buffalo, February 2021

The KeyBank Center was notably loud that night and it made Luca’s head spin. There were even a considerable amount of Centaurs jerseys around the arena which the guys found confusing. They expected this sort of thing in Montreal, maybe even Toronto, but not as far as Buffalo. It was a welcome surprise either way. 

They were in the middle of a stoppage in play, which had Luca skating back over to the bench for a quick drink of water. The girls wearing Centaurs jerseys behind the bench went crazy as he approached. He bit back a smile.

“Good run, Haasy.” Eric nodded at him as he leaned a hip against the boards and grabbed one of the water bottles hidden behind the ledge.

“Thanks.” Luca grinned at him and squeezed some water into his mouth. 

He turned around to look up at the big screen where they were replaying his shot on net. It was a good one, even if Buffalo's defender had run Luca directly into the side of the net and knocked it off its pegs, making the goal null and void. The refs were in the middle of fixing the net and trying to prevent Ilya from fighting the defender on Luca’s behalf. He chuckled to himself.

“Crazy crowd tonight, eh?” Eric nodded over to the section that was currently doing the wave, “Didn’t know we had fans down here.” 

“Might be because we’ve been winning so much.” Luca commented.

Eric snorted, “You’re right. We might have to keep doing that.”

“Hell yeah we do. Haas, get back over there.” Coach Wiebe interjected. Luca snapped his head over to the face-off circle where the rest of the guys were already lining up. He thought it would take a lot longer for Ilya to stop going after the defender but he was clearly wrong. He quickly threw the water bottle at Eric before skating back over to assume his position behind Ilya.

“Get a bit distracted there?” Ilya smirked as he skated slowly around the face-off circle, clearly wasting time so that Luca could rejoin them. Luca smiled down at his feet and crouched into position. 

///

It was a bit of a brutal game, one that left Luca feeling sluggish and tired, even if they managed to get the win. They’d been on a franchise-record winning streak since the plane crash and Luca tried not to get his hopes up about it. He wanted nothing more than to make it to the play-offs and he was doing everything in his power to make that happen. The guys seemed to be doing the same, hopeful in a way that they hadn’t been in years, and Luca started to feel the pressure of it all. Sharing a hotel room with Eric helped though. 

He fluffed his hair up in the mirror and gave himself one final, reassuring nod before leaving the bathroom. He stopped just inside the doorway to stare at Eric who was already lounging in bed. He looked tired, with one arm resting above his head, the other lazily holding his phone up as he scrolled on social media. Eric kept forcefully blinking to keep his eyes open but when he saw Luca standing the doorway shirtless, he perked up. 

Eric grinned as he looked Luca up and down, “You look…good.”

“Just good?” He grinned.

“Very good.” Eric corrected.

Luca ignored the blush on his cheeks as he walked over to join Eric. He perched on the side of the bed and ran a hand through Eric’s smooth hair. It had grown out a bit since Christmas, no longer the soft buzz cut that made his jawline and cheekbones stand out, but Luca still liked it. And he loved playing with it.

“What’s Twitter saying about your goal today?” Luca asked, leaning over to get a look at Eric’s phone. He quickly turned it off and threw it down on the bed beside him, which confused Luca. Sometimes Eric would share his favourite tweets or TikToks with him, it had become Luca’s only peak into the online world since he deleted the apps from his phone, and he sort of looked forward to it. It became a part of their routine, so it was a bit weird that Eric was willingly deviating from it.

“Nothing important.” Eric’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he pulled Luca in for a kiss. Luca let him.

“I was going to suggest we have some fun tonight but you look tired.” Luca sighed once he pulled away from Eric to get a better look at him. There were pale purple bags under his eyes. Eric shook his head furiously.

“I’m never too tired for you.” Eric insisted and then, to prove it, he pulled Luca in for a more passionate kiss. Luca smiled as Eric’s hands trailed down his abs then pulled him in closer by looping two fingers into the waistband of his pyjama pants. Suddenly, all of the fatigue from the travelling and the pressure to perform was gone from Luca’s mind. All he could think about was how much he wanted Eric at that moment.

He kissed down Eric’s jaw until he got to the spot under his ear that Eric liked, then he sucked on it. Eric moaned.

“So what do you want to do tonight?” Luca whispered. Eric leaned his head to the side so that Luca had better access. He peppered it with open mouthed kisses.

“Hmmm,” Eric hummed, pretending like he was thinking about it, but really getting distracted as Luca continued. 

Luca already had a few ideas in mind, he’d been thinking about it since the second period when Eric scored his goal and then smirked over at Luca, completely ignoring the way his linemates were celebrating around him. Before Eric could suggest anything, his phone started ringing beside them. 

Luca glanced over at it, “It’s Bood.”

“Just ignore it.” Eric huffed and turned the phone on silent, laying back down where he was before, “Continue.”

Luca happily obliged, leaning in to kiss Eric. Just as Luca’s tongue flicked over Eric’s bottom lip, asking for entrance, his phone started ringing again. Eric groaned loudly, this time gently pushing Luca off of him so that he could answer it.

“What?” He snapped. Luca fell back beside Eric, one arm thrown lazily over his stomach, his finger tracing shapes on his stomach through the thin material of his shirt. Eric smiled down at him as the muffled voice on the other end of the phone continued. 

“Wait, what?” Eric repeated, his whole body going stiff under Luca’s touch. Luca’s eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“I’m coming with you. I’ll be down in 5 minutes.”

Without another word, Eric hung up the phone and launched himself out of the bed. Luca’s hand fell back down by his side as he watched Eric dart all around the room, throwing random things into his suitcase.

“What’s going on?” Luca asked, trying to stay calm for both of their sake.

“Cassie is going into labour.” He said breathlessly as he stuffed his pre-game suit into its garment bag, not even bothering to hang it back up on the hanger.

“Oh my god.” Luca sat up as well, “Okay, what can I do? How can I help?”

Eric ran into the bathroom. There were some clattering sounds and then quiet curse words before he re-emerged with his washbag. He threw it into his suitcase and zipped it up forcefully before pulling on his running shoes. It was a big of a challenge considering he didn’t even bother to untie the laces.

He paused, scanned the room carefully for anything he might’ve missed, and then sent Luca a frazzled smile. He jogged over and placed a firm kiss on his lips.

“You can pack anything I forgot.” He said breathlessly before jogging over to the door, grabbing his winter coat from the front closet, and tossing it over your shoulder, “And you can pray for me because I have no clue how to deliver a baby!”

Luca laughed as he followed Eric out the door. He watched him run clumsily down the hallway with his suitcase, duffel bag, and puffy winter jacket in tow.

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry! There should be doctors to do that!” Luca called after him. Eric just kept running, sending a half-assed wave behind him as he finally reached the elevators. He punched the downwards arrow multiple times and turned back to look at Luca.

“You never know!” He called back with a wide smile. Luca rolled his eyes.

“Okay well goodluck. Send me pictures!” Luca chuckled.

Even from a distance Luca could see the way the gears were turning in Eric’s head. The elevator doors pinged and then opened.

“I don’t think Cassie would appreciate that very much.” Eric grinned cheekily. Then he disappeared into the elevator.

“That’s not what I meant, you asshole!” Luca yelled a little louder, hoping that Eric could still hear him. The faint laughter coming from the elevator told him that he did. Luca rolled his eyes and returned to the empty hotel room, already with plans to go bug Ilya for the rest of the night.

///

It was the day before their pride game and Ilya was feeling increasingly nervous about it. His leg was bouncing all throughout their captain’s meeting and then the team meeting where they reviewed footage from Toronto's most recent game. He put on a fake smile when Coach Wiebe pulled him out into the hallway afterwards—insisted that everything was fine and that he was excited for the next day. He knew that Wiebe didn’t believe him but he sent Ilya away with a pat on the shoulder anyways.

Ilya decided not to go back into the tape room after that. He didn’t think he could continue to put on a happy face around the rest of his teammates so he opted for the lounge instead. He grabbed a Gatorade out of the fridge and fell back into one of the leather couches to scroll on his phone. Shane hadn’t answered his text yet, he was probably still on the plane back to Montreal, and he likely wouldn't be able to talk for a few more hours. He resorted to social media instead.

It didn’t take long for the echoing voices down the hallway to fade as each of the guys left the practice facility. When Luca inevitably texted him to ask where he went, he didn’t hesitate to respond, and within a few minutes the rookie poked his head into the lounge.

“You okay?” He asked as he walked over and fell onto the couch beside him. He curled up against Ilya’s side, completely ignoring the need for personal space, and looked down at the dog video that Ilya was just watching on TikTok.

“Da, just having a bad brain day.” Ilya rested his head on top of Luca’s and kept scrolling.

Luca didn’t say anything more. He knew that Ilya never really liked to talk about his depression and often found other ways to get him out of whatever funk he was in. Ilya wasn’t quite sure how Luca could get him out of this particular funk, which had been brewing for the past week—not that he expected him to, this was no one’s responsibility but his own—but Luca’s suggestion to stop at McDonalds on the way home did make him smile. 

When his phone rang and Bood’s contact appeared on his screen, Ilya smiled even wider. He immediately accepted the FaceTime request. Suddenly his screen was filled with the most precious looking baby he had ever seen.

“Bozhe moy!” He gasped at the little button nose that looked awfully similar to Cassie’s, “He is perfect!”

“So small!” Luca squealed just a little too loud in Ilya’s ear, making him flinch. Luca smiled apologetically up at him, “Oh, sorry.” He whispered this time instead. Bood chuckled from the other end of the call, making the phone shake a bit.

“I wanted you guys to meet Milo.” You could practically hear the smile in his voice.

“Hello, Milo.” Ilya said softly as they stared at him in awe.

“Wait, you gotta tell them the full name.” Eric said. 

Bood panned the camera out to show that Eric was the one holding the baby. He was sitting in an armchair with perfect posture and a tense smile, evidently nervous about holding the baby, and probably terrified that if he even slouched an inch that it would ruin everything. Ilya recalled that one time he’d walked in on a conversation where Eric was asking LaPointe what it was like to live with so many young children; how he could be supportive when the baby came, how he could make everything easier on Cassie and Bood. They hadn’t realized that Ilya had overheard them, he was wearing his headphones afterall, but the whole exchange made Ilya’s heart melt. It was endearing, now, to see him smiling so proud with Baby Milo in his arms. 

“Go ahead.” Bood said.

Eric smiled up at the camera and only then could Ilya see the tear stains on his cheeks.

“His name is Milo Eric Boodram.” Eric’s lips trembled around the wide smile he was flashing them. From Ilya’s side, he heard Luca’s breath catch in his throat. Ilya would be lying if he said that his own eyes weren’t growing watery.

“That’s a beautiful name.” Luca beamed. 

Ilya shrugged, “I think Milo Ilya Boodram sounded better but it will have to do.”

Eric glared up at the camera as Bood flipped it around to show himself again, laughing this time.

“Sorry, Roz. Cassie veto’d that one.” He smiled fondly off screen, presumably at where Cassie was sitting in her bed.

“Do not bring me into this.” Her faint voice came. It made them all laugh.

“How are you doing, Cassie? These two aren’t bugging you too much?” Ilya raised his voice in hopes that Cassie could hear them. He didn’t expect Bood to put her on camera, the last thing this poor woman needed right now was to put up with two more annoying hockey players. Eric was enough as is.

“I’m doing okay! The drugs are great!” She called back. Ilya chuckled softly to himself. Bood grinned down at the camera.

“We’re all doing good over here. We’ll be ready for the game tomorrow!” Bood reaffirmed. 

His smile only faltered briefly but Ilya noticed it. The last thing Bood needed to be worried about was playing a stupid hockey game. He should be allowed more time with his family but that’s not how their career worked. They didn’t get that kind of leisure in their line of work; they were lucky that Coach Wiebe hadn’t expected them back at the arena until game day, insisting that they spend time as a little family. Somehow, no one questioned why Eric was lumped into that decision. Either way, Bood would return for their next game, he would play hard for his new family, and he would do it all on little to no sleep. Ilya smiled sadly at his friend through the screen.

“Can we do anything to help? Drop off some food? Maybe some coffee?” Ilya insisted. It was the least he could do.

“We’re fine, Roz, but thank you. If we need anything you will be the first to know.” Bood smiled graciously. After a bit of protesting and a few more minutes of them staring at baby Milo, they hung up.

Luca wiped at his eyes and Ilya smiled fondly over at him.

“I know that Eric looked very cute holding the baby but don’t get any ideas.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood in the room. Luca’s eyes widened.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ilyusha.” Luca mumbled before a wide smile spread across his face, “We can’t get pregnant anyways.”

Ilya nearly choked on his Gatorade as Luca laughed at him. He ruffled Luca’s hair before pushing himself up off the couch.

“Okay I know they said that they don’t need anything but can we send over some flowers?” Luca asked. Ilya smiled at the idea. 

“Of course, we can find a flower shop on the way home.” Ilya agreed as he led the pair of them out of the lounge, “We also need to stop off for a baby Centaurs jersey. I can’t let Wyatt beat me to it.”

“Deal.” Luca chuckled.

///

The afternoon of the pride game Luca wanted to be alone. He got to the arena early with Ilya, quickly grabbed the sketchbook he always kept in his locker, and went searching for a quiet spot where no one would find him. That just so happened to be Dr. Terry’s office, which he hadn’t been in since his concussion almost two months ago. Dr. Terry wouldn’t be there for another couple of hours anyways so Luca figured he could just sit at the desk and draw for a little bit to get his mind off of everything.

He was less nervous than he expected he would be that morning. There were definitely some lingering jitters, a fear that people would be able to see right through him once Troy told them what to look for, but he’d spent a lot of time talking to Ilya about it and that helped. 

“Troy coming out is going to be good for all of us. I can feel it.” Ilya said to him the day before. 

It sort of came out of nowhere. They'd just stopped through a McDonalds drive thru on the drive home from the practice facility, neither of them talking, just enjoying the soft radio playing in the background. Luca wasn’t sure who Ilya was trying to convince more with those words, Luca or himself, but he sat with them all night. He couldn’t quite pinpoint the emotions swirling in his brain as he stared down at his sketchbook. 

Luca wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed before someone found him.

“I knew you’d be in here.” Eric smiled as he slipped into the room and clicked the door shut behind him. Luca popped his earbuds out.

“How’d you know where I was?” He asked, eyebrows knitting together.

“Well if you weren’t in the locker room or the physio room or the lounge, then there weren’t too many spots left to check.” Eric smirked. He walked over to where Luca was sitting at the desk and leaned over to greet him with a kiss on the forehead. 

“You look nice.” Luca smiled up at him. 

He was wearing his Centaurs pride t-shirt that the team had all been given ahead of the game. Troy reassured them that they didn’t have to wear it if they weren’t comfortable but that insinuation was quickly shot down. Dykstra shared that he’d already started making an LGBTQ+ pre-game playlist, Wyatt made a joke about dyeing his hair rainbow colours, and Chouinard said that his kids were so excited to get rainbow face paint done just for the game. It all made Luca’s heart swell.

“You do too. The rainbows really make your eyes pop.” Eric pointed at Luca’s own pride t-shirt. Luca chuckled.

“What’re you doing?” Eric leaned over to look at Luca’s sketchbook. He was just putting the final touches on a drawing he was making for Troy; a congratulations gift, of sorts, for his big day. By now, Troy had likely posted his coming out video to Instagram and was shortly on his way to breaking the internet. Eric reassured Luca that they could scroll through some of the comments and responses later that night, when they went to Monks to celebrate.

“Just finishing this up for Troy.” Luca sighed as they both looked down at the piece. It was a photo of the Drover Farm, one that Troy had posted to his close friend's story a little while back, when he first visited Harris’ family. Luca knew how much that day meant to him and so he wanted to immortalize it for him.

Eric squeezed his shoulder, “He’s going to love it.”

“I hope so.” Luca leaned into Eric’s side before smiling up at him, “How are you feeling about today?”

Eric scrunched his face up. Luca knew that he must’ve been going through a whirlwind of emotions himself, some that may mirror Luca’s own. Eric tended to manage his anxiety a bit better than Luca did, though, so he figured that he may be handling it all with ease.

“I feel like a bit of an imposter.” He decided after a moment.

“An imposter?” Luca prompted, sitting back in his chair so that he could get a better gauge of Eric’s face. He shrugged but didn’t explain further. It only confused Luca more, but before he could pry, Eric quickly interjected.

“But I’m glad I get to do it all with you.”

Luca smiled up at him.

“I am too.”

///

“Okay guys, any quick words of encouragement for Troy?” Harris caught Luca and Eric as they walked out of the locker room wearing their pride jerseys. He had his phone with the attached ring light held up to them, waiting for them to answer. Troy was right behind them, which Eric of course knew, when he said—

“We love you sooooo much Troy!”

Luca giggled over at Eric and then at the camera.

“And we’re sooooo proud of you.” He added in the same sing-song tone. 

They both flashed cheeky smiles at Troy when he walked out of the locker room last. He was fastening his helmet, completely oblivious to what was going on in the hallway. When he walked out of the locker room and saw them, he immediately froze. 

“Oh gosh, what is this? An ambush?” He joked.

“We’re wishing you well ahead of the game.” Eric corrected, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Luca smiled at them and so did Harris, whose eyes had grown a bit watery at the sight of them all together. Troy seemed to notice.

“Don’t start,” He warned and pointed an accusatory finger at Harris, “Or you’ll get me going.”

Harris stopped filming.

“Can’t help it. Wait’ll you see the replies to your—”

“Nope. Shut it. Later, okay?”

“Okay.” Harris pressed his lips together tightly. It seemed to be the only way that he could stop himself.

Luca chuckled. It sounded like Troy and Harris had a similar agreement as himself and Eric; they didn’t want to know what anybody was saying before the game, only the filtered version of everything afterwards. Based on Eric’s and Harris’ giddy smiles, something told Luca that it had been a positive response so far.

“C’mon, Luca.” Eric ushered Luca over towards the tunnel before calling over his shoulder, “Don’t want to interrupt their special moment. Keep the kissing to a minimum, we have a game to win!”

“Puck drop isn’t for another 30 minutes!” Troy called after him. Luca and Eric just laughed as they stepped foot onto the ice. 

Luca didn’t know what to expect but it wasn’t this. Somehow in the short amount of time between Troy posting his video and the fans entering the building, they had managed to put together some of the most beautiful and supportive signs that Luca had ever seen. He tried his best to catch a glimpse of each of them as he did his usual warm-up laps. There was a huge banner on the second-level that read, “We love you Troy!” in all rainbow letters. There were countless rainbow flags, pride jerseys, and little kids with rainbow face paint pressed up against the glass asking for pucks. Luca chuckled at a sign that read “Barrett is a baddie” and then looped back around so that he could take some shots on net.

“How’re you feeling, Haasy?” Bood tapped his shins with his stick on his way to the back of the line. Luca just smiled at him. He couldn’t quite find the words for how he was feeling, he found himself smiling wider than he ever had before, so much so that his cheeks were starting to hurt. 

“Take it all in, kid. You deserve this.” Bood smiled at him and then over at center ice where Troy and Ilya were standing. 

Ilya was grinning over at Troy who was taking in all of the signs around the arena. At that moment all Luca wanted to do was go and join them, hug them, tell them how happy he was to have them in his life, so he did. He skated over and crashed into both of their backs, nearly throwing them off balance as he wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders.

“Woah, Mitshuka.” Ilya chuckled, removing his arm from around Troy so that he could support Luca’s added weight, “You scared me.”

“This is crazy.” Luca completely ignored him, looking out at a group of four guys who had painted Troy’s name across their chests, letter by letter. 

“It is.” Troy agreed before smiling fondly over at them, “This is for the both of you, too, you know. Even if they don’t know it.” He said sincerely, like he was hoping that they were feeling the love just as much as he was.

“We know.” Luca squeezed both of them a little tighter.

“Yes, and maybe they will know soon.” Ilya added ominously. Both Troy and Luca raised their eyebrows up at him.

“Really?” Luca asked. He wasn’t quite sure how Shane would feel about that.

Ilya nodded as he started to skate away, “Come. We need to stretch. I will not lose to these assholes on such a special night.” 

///

“Well it will come as no surprise to anyone that the Player of the Game is the one, the only, Mr. Troy Mother Fucking Barrett!” Dykstra yelled. The guys roared as Troy stood up to receive the battle helmet graciously. 

“Thank you, thank you. Okay, enough. Please.” Troy said, although he couldn’t stop smiling as his teammates all roared around him. 

The guys quieted around the locker room as Troy smiled down at the helmet. Not only was he brave enough to come out, but he also got two out of the four goals they scored to win against his previous team, Toronto. The team that hadn’t accepted him or understood who he was the whole time he played with them. The same team who pushed him aside when he stood up for what was right. Luca beamed with pride as Troy looked all around the room.

“I’m going to keep this short but I just wanted to say thank you.” He started, brushing a hand through the red plume of the helmet in his hands, “I won’t lie to you, coming out was quite scary—it was something I never thought I’d get to do—but having all of your support was so special to me. You all made this so much easier, so thank you.” 

“We did nothing. It was all you.” Ilya corrected. There were murmurs of agreement around the room. Troy smiled appreciatively at him and then over at where Eric and Luca were sitting in their stalls.

He nodded to himself and sighed, “Well, who’s ready to get drunk?”

The room roared again and Dykstra immediately started playing Lady Gaga’s Born This Way over the speakers far too loud. No one complained about it though. When Troy got tapped for interviews, Harris pulled Ilya, Luca, and Eric out into the hallway to take a quick picture all together.

“Not for socials.” He reassured them as he had them huddle all together in the frame of the camera, “Just for us.” 

That encouraged Eric to place a big kiss on Luca’s cheek just as Harris snapped the photo, which had everyone laughing except for Luca, who just turned a bright shade of red. Troy and Harris quickly shuffled away so that he could go through media as fast as possible, leaving the other three in the hallway all together. 

“We still going to Monks tonight?” Eric asked no one in particular. He had one hand on the door to the locker room, ready to re-enter the chaos that was waiting for them on the other side. His face dropped when he saw Ilya. Luca furrowed his brows before slowly turning to look at Ilya as well. He was frozen in the hallway, still standing where they had taken their group photo, just staring off into space. The colour had completely drained from his face and Luca took a careful step towards him.

“Sorry Eric, could you just give us a moment?” He asked carefully. Eric didn’t hesitate to walk back into the locker room, leaving just the two of them in the hallway together.

“Ilyusha?” Luca said cautiously, taking another step closer to Ilya and placing a hand on his arm. Ilya didn't react, just kept staring off into space. He came to stand in front of Ilya, grabbing ahold of both of his forearms and applying a bit of pressure. Ilya stared right through him, pupils dilated, expression entirely blank. It was as if Ilya wasn’t with him at all.

Luca frowned, “Ilyusha, are you okay?”

“I think I am crashing.” He said in a monotone voice, still unable to return to his body. 

“Okay. That’s okay.” Luca reassured him, looking all around the hallway for something or someone to help him. 

Between Troy’s media scrum around the corner and the sound of the blaring music inside of the locker room, it somehow felt like the two of them were entirely alone in this little alcove of the hallway together. Suddenly all excitement from the night dissipated and the weight of the evening hung in the air between them. It was only starting to settle in for Luca but it seemed to hit Ilya like a truck as he took shallow breaths.

“I’m happy for him, I swear.” Ilya whispered.

Luca almost fell apart then and there.

“I know, Ilyusha, I know.”

And he did know. He knew how happy they all were for Troy and he also knew the deep pit of sadness that took shape in his stomach. Neither of them would get a moment like this for a long time, not until things settled and circumstances changed. Even with a locker room as supportive as theirs, it didn’t change the outside noise; the pressure to maintain appearances and hold the entire franchise on their backs, the fear of their families back home, the unknown of what life looked like on the other side of the closet.

Luca couldn’t solve any of those problems so instead he just squeezed Ilya’s arms a little tighter, trying to bring Ilya back into his body as he swallowed his own emotions. He wouldn’t cry, not now. Right now Ilya needed him. 

“What can I do to help?” 

He studied Ilya’s face. There was nothing there, no emotion or expression, just a blank stare that unsettled Luca more than he cared to admit. He hadn't seen anything quite like it since Halloween.

“I think I’m going to see Shane.” Ilya decided.

“You’re what? Ilyusha, I don’t think you should be driving—”

“I said I am going to see Shane.” He said firmly, his eyes finally focusing on Luca’s own. Luca gulped.

“Okay. Okay.” He said defeatedly. Ilya pushed past him and back into the locker room without another word.

Luca sighed and followed after him, watching his every move. He wasn’t even fazed by their teammates who were still dancing all around the room, this time to an old Madonna song. He watched Ilya strip the rest of his gear off and trudge over to the showers, still in a sort of trance as his body worked through the routine that he’d done hundreds of times before. Eric watched Ilya retreat into the showers before turning to Luca cautiously. 

“Is he okay?” Eric leaned over to whisper. Luca nodded.

“Uh yeah, just a bit overwhelmed, I think.” He said.

Luca pulled his phone out and opened his text chain with Shane quickly. 

Luca: Ilya is struggling

Luca: He says he wants to come see you tonight

Luca: I don’t know if that’s a good idea…

Luca stripped off his jersey and some of his pads before he got a response.

Shane: That’s okay, let him drive. It helps him calm down.

Shane: Thank you for the heads up, buddy. And good game tonight👍

Even if Shane was comfortable with it, Luca still wasn’t. He watched Ilya return from the showers, quickly get changed into his pre-game suit, and leave the arena without so much as a goodbye to any of the guys. When Troy caught him on the way out, Ilya lied through his teeth and said that he would meet them at Monks. Based on the look that Troy gave Luca upon walking back into the locker room, they all knew that Ilya wouldn’t be joining them that night. Luca pushed aside his concern and made his way over to the showers. Shane would take care of it.

///

“Okay wait, look at this comment.” Eric giggled, shuffling closer to Luca to show him his phone. They were sitting in their usual booth at Monks, a couple of empty pitchers on the table in front of them, scrolling through socials and seeing what everyone online was saying about Troy’s big night.

@mlherrr 

Troy Barrett coming out is the second most shocking news to come out of Ottawa this year

❤️2.3k 🔁796 💬322

     ↪ @babycens25761

         What’s the first?

         ❤️416 🔁65 💬287

              ↪ @mlherrr

                  The Ottawa Centaurs are on an 18-0 win streak since Christmas

                  ❤️5.1k 🔁2.7k 💬256

“You cannot like that.” Luca snorted. 

“I won’t, I promise.” Eric giggled and continued scrolling so that they could look at a few more.

@lgbthockey: 

HUGE night for hockey fans everywhere! #hockeyisforeveryone #ottawaproud #barrettisabaddie

❤️11k 🔁3.4k 💬690

@centaurs2020

*gif of Luca and Eric giggling, giving their well wishes to Troy ahead of warm-ups* 

Haasy and Young being allies warms my heart

❤️2.7k 🔁811 💬532

     ↪ @yaaaaaaass

         baby, they aren't just allies...

         ❤️3.6k 🔁1.9k 💬346

@yaaaaaaass

*photo of Troy, Luca, and Eric after practice a few weeks ago*

Troy and Harris are their gay dads, confirmed😁😁😁

❤️5.2k 🔁3.3k 💬784

@yaas257

First Scott Hunter, then Troy Barrett, we all know who we want next👀

❤️4.8k 🔁1.6k 💬631

“They’re relentless.” Luca rolled his eyes, returning his attention to the pool table beside them where LaPointe was taunting Wyatt as he lined up for the winning shot.

“Gotta admire their passion.” Eric joked and then quickly flipped over to Instagram to see what was going on over there. Luca had already logged back into his own account to reshare a couple posts from their game to his own story, including a photo of himself, Ilya, and Troy standing at centre ice smiling up at the stands before the game. That photo held layers to it that no one even knew about, but it felt important for Luca to share it anyways.

“So many players are interacting with Troy’s post. Scott Hunter even commented!” Eric shared. Luca smiled to himself, remembering that time he’d gone to visit The Kingfisher a few months ago and got to properly meet Scott. He was so scared back then, so shy. He wondered if Scott would notice a difference in him if he were to go back today. Maybe he would bring Eric along this time.

“Proud of you, Troy! Drinks on me the next time you’re in NYC.” Eric read aloud, a big smile on his face as he beamed over at Troy and Harris who sat at a booth nearby, “Troy! Scott Hunter wants to take you for drinks!”

Harris and Troy knitted their eyebrows together in confusion.

Luca just chuckled, “You sound like a fanboy.”

“I am a fanboy. And so are you, don’t even.” He poked his tongue out at Luca who just rolled his eyes at him. Beside them, Wyatt dramatically fell over when he missed his shot and it was LaPointe’s turn to catch up. LaPointe had the smuggest grin on his face as he leaned over the pool table.

“Are there any, uh, negative comments?” Luca tried to ask it as casually as possible but Eric saw right through it. He sent Luca a sad smile.

“There are,” Eric started carefully, “But they are a small minority. Most people are very supportive.”

Luca nodded down at the half-empty pint in his hands. Eric placed a reassuring hand on his thigh.

“It’s okay. Look at Troy,” Eric nodded over to where Troy and Harris were cuddled into a booth, only with eyes for one another as they talked quietly about the night, “He’s good. He’s happy. Probably happier than I’ve ever seen him.”

Luca agreed but it didn’t tame the nerves that fluttered in his stomach. Deep down he knew that no matter what happened, no matter how many players decided to come out and live authentically as themselves, it wouldn’t change hockey culture overnight. There would still be homophobic assholes that clung onto that toxicity for as long as possible. It scared Luca. It made him wonder just how long it would take before he felt safe enough to come out himself. He wondered if he ever would.

He met Eric’s eyes again and sighed, "You're right. Sorry. Tonight is a happy night." 

Eric wiggled his eyebrows at him, "It could be happier."

Before Luca could say anything further, LaPointe slid into the booth opposite them.

“Be careful guys,” LaPointe’s booming voice made Luca flinch, “People might start to think Yaas is real.” He had ungraciously won the pool game against Wyatt and was now nodding at Eric’s hand, which was still resting on Luca’s thigh.

Luca blushed furiously as Eric casually removed his hand, but not without giving Luca's thigh a reassuring squeeze first. 

“You’re just jealous that you aren’t getting shipped with anyone.” Eric countered.

LaPointe pouted over at them as he took a sip of his beer.

“Hey that's not true! What about LaHayes. Or is it HaPointe? Maybe Wulian? I don’t know, but whatever it is, it is real and it is beautiful.” Wyatt jumped in, resetting the pool balls at the center of the table. That made everyone around them laugh.

Luca’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at it while the rest of the guys were joking about dumb ship names amongst their roster.

Shane: Ilya got here safely. He’s doing better.

Shane: I hope tonight wasn’t too hard on you, I’m here if you need to talk.

Shane: And please let me know when you get home. Have fun!

Luca smiled to himself.

“Who’s that?” Eric whispered, trying to lean over to see his phone. Luca placed it face down on the table.

“Just Sophia. She wanted me to pass on her congratulations to Troy and Harris.” He smiled over at Eric. 

Eric studied his face and, for a moment, Luca was almost worried that he could see right through him. After the night they'd had, the last thing he wanted to do was lie to Eric, but he couldn't tell him the truth. No matter how badly he wanted to, it wasn't his truth to share. He almost doubled down to make the lie sound more believable but then Eric smiled and nodded once, seemingly content with whatever he found hiding behind Luca's expression. 

“Tell her to go to bed. It’s way too late for her to be studying.”

Luca laughed, “I will.”

Chapter End Notes

Hello hello!! We have somehow surpassed 200,000 hits??? thank you so much, that number is kinda crazy to me, I can't even wrap my head around that???

I hit a bit of writers block so I ended up writing a 7 chapter fic all from Eric's perspective, so if you haven't already then you can go check that out :)

Hope you're still enjoying this! I'm actively fighting writers block + mental health being bleh so I appreciate your patience as I keep writing and building out this world <333

Chapter 29: Fallout

Chapter Notes

TW: homophobia, violence, PTSD flashbacks

Nashville, March 2021

Ilya was happy to see all the support that Troy received in the week following the pride game. There were countless social media campaigns rallying around him, including a post by the official MLH account showing their support. Ilya knew that directive hadn’t come from Roger Crowell himself; he was likely seething behind the scenes about all of this, claiming that it was a waste of time and attention. Still, the official statement meant something. 

Lots of players had publicly and privately reached out to Troy about it too. Even Shane messaged Troy the night of the pride game; right after he’d taken Ilya apart and made him forget all about his own sadness. It made Ilya smile when Shane offhandedly mentioned it to him over a cup of coffee the next morning.

As they skated around the ice in Nashville, Troy appeared visibly lighter; his shoulders a little looser, his jokes a bit freer. The rest of the guys didn’t even bat an eye when Troy talked openly about Harris or when he left their team dinners to go FaceTime him. Ilya was only a little jealous. He wondered what that felt like. It seemed wonderful.

When they split up to run drills, Troy skated over to join Ilya and Luca at the far end of the rink.

“Hey.”

Ilya nodded at him, “Barrett.”

Troy grabbed one of the pucks nearby and started playing around with it. 

“So I was wondering…” He started, flicking the puck up into the air and catching it on his stick again before Luca swatted it away, “Well, Harris and I were wondering if you guys wanted to come for dinner sometime? At the Drover Farm?”

Ilya’s eyebrows shot up.

“Dinner?” Luca clarified, glancing sideways at Ilya to gauge his reaction. Troy’s eyes hadn’t left the puck that Luca was dangling between them.

“Yeah. As a sort of thank you.” Troy rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.

“A thank you.” Ilya repeated. He smirked over at Troy who had stolen the puck back from Luca. 

“Yeah, like a thank you for giving me the push I needed, I guess. For being…supportive.” He searched for the words carefully, still unable to meet either of their eyes as he said it.

Ilya chuckled at Troy’s awkwardness. The offer was entirely unnecessary, Ilya didn’t think he’d even remotely played a role in Troy’s bravery but it was touching nonetheless. He was ready to properly decline when something occurred to him.

“Will Chiron be there?”

Troy finally smiled up at him, “Yeah and a bunch of other dogs.”

“Oh no.” Luca looked over at Ilya who was already grinning.

They could make time for dinner, he supposed.

///

The next day, when the three of them were pulled into a quick pre-game conference, Ilya realized that Troy’s coming out hadn’t been entirely positive. At least, not for all of them.

After Troy came out, the spotlight on the team grew bigger and the fan response online was intense. Ilya was surprised to see more buzz around the nature of his relationship with Shane. The public perception of them had slowly changed over the years, the rivalry long gone since they started The Irina Foundation, replaced instead by a perceived level of admiration for one another. The public didn’t quite see them as friends, still finding ways to compare their stats and hyping up any Montreal versus Ottawa games in a similar way they would when Ilya was back in Boston, but it was more bearable. 

Since the pride game, though, Ilya had seen a few more posts about the possibility of him being gay or queer, or something. He liked a few of them from his burner account, especially the ones that linked him romantically to Shane or insinuated that Ilya had to have had a bigger reason to move to Ottawa than he first shared. He was impressed by the small community of Hollanov shippers and dreamed of a day that they could confirm some of those rumours themselves. Whatever whisperings there was about him and Shane was nothing compared to the Yaas fanbase though.

What was initially a vocal minority of fans interested in the pair of rookies quickly turned into Instagram comments and tweets with tens of thousands of likes. Everyday there seemed to be a new TikTok video or Reddit thread dissecting every interaction they ever had, dating all the way back to training camp. The fans had taken a particular interest in the game following Christmas break, when Eric could be seen visibly scowling at Luca as he flirted with that TikTok singer who came to announce the starting line-up. Ilya knew that was a shit show the moment it all happened but the fans were only just picking up on it now. It was scary how accurate some of their hypotheses were.

With every post that Ilya saw, he grew more and more anxious—vigilant, protective. He was just grateful that Luca wasn’t on socials anymore. Eric, on the other hand? Well that was an entirely different case. The guys had been keeping a close eye on him just to make sure that it wasn’t getting to him. They even formed a group chat—Bood, Troy, Harris, and himself—that they jokingly referred to as the Yaas Defense Squad, where they talked about how best to protect the pair of rookies. It had seen more action in the last week than ever before. 

Ilya wondered how long it would be until they had to expand that group chat as some of their teammates were starting to pick up on things a bit more clearly. All it took was Troy coming out for them to realize that maybe they had been looking at things a little too naively; like when Luca would fall asleep on Eric’s shoulder on the bus or when Eric would refuse to sit beside anyone but Luca on the bench. Ilya often caught Wyatt watching them during practice.

“They’re quite close, eh?” Wyatt had offhandedly mentioned on the ice the day before, nodding over at them as they took close-range shots on the empty net at the other end of the ice. They didn’t seem to care that drills were going on around them, too lost in a giggly conversation to notice. There was a way that Luca looked at Eric that made Ilya smile. It was so innocently in love. It reminded him of a younger Shane sometimes.

Ilya had just shrugged at Wyatt. He could handle his teammates' questions; they would find out eventually and it wouldn’t be a big deal, the same way that Troy and Harris hadn’t been a big deal. What he struggled a bit more with, though, was the media. And they were starting to insert themselves into this Yaas narrative in a way that Ilya didn’t like. 

The first half of the press conference was what Ilya expected. Troy was asked about his reception since coming out, Ilya and Luca were asked how the team felt about it, and Ilya talked about how they were lining up for a good playoff run. Then there were the more pointed questions.

“Luca, what are your thoughts on everything that’s been going on over on social media?” One reporter asked him. 

The hairs on the back of Ilya’s neck stood on end as his eyes flickered between the reporter and Luca carefully. Luca didn’t even bat an eye.

“I try to stay off social media. There’s too many opinions—the good ones, the bad ones. It’s all too much for me.” He admitted with a level of calculated honesty that he always carried with him into these sorts of press engagements. Harris had taught him well.

Ilya chewed on the inside of his cheek as he thought back to the screenshots that Harris had sent them earlier that morning. The narrative that he had seen swirling around a few weeks ago—the one that pitted Eric and Luca against one another—had reached the comment section of the Centaurs instagram page. Some of the Yaas shippers had stepped in to defend the rookies, often with a wrath that only teenage girls could muster. They were basically doing Ilya’s job for him. Still, he made sure to leave a few unsavory comments of his own for those individuals who felt the need to be so hateful towards Luca. From his burner account, of course. Harris wouldn’t forgive him otherwise; neither would Shane, Yuna or Luca. Eric would find humour in it, he supposed.

The reporter didn’t seem quite satisfied with that response, so she pressed on.

“Eric seems to be quite active on social media, does he tell you what’s going on over there?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Ilya narrowed his eyes at her, trying to assess the level of threat she possessed. Beside him, Luca was trying his best to hide the small smile that rose to his face.

“Yeah, he tells me some stuff.” Luca said casually.

“What sort of stuff does he tell you?”

Ilya needed to cut this off before it went any further; before this reporter single-handedly undid all of his hard work to protect Luca from the idiots hiding behind their keyboards.

“He mainly shows Luca my highlight reels.” Ilya joked, making the reporters around the room chuckle. 

Luca rolled his eyes but leaned forward towards his mic anyways, “He doesn’t need to do that, Ilya shows me himself.”

Another round of laughter.

“Luca, could you talk a little bit about your friendship with Eric? What is it like getting to play with your best friend every night?” Another reporter piped up when the room fell quiet again.

There was something about the way that these reporters used that term—best friend—like everyone knew what was hiding underneath it but no one could say anything about it. They didn’t need to, it was painfully obvious already. Luca started fidgeting with his sleeves under the table.

“Yeah Eric is my best friend so obviously it's great getting to play with him every night. He’s a great player and an even better teammate so, yeah, it’s been good.” Luca said, entirely devoid of emotion this time. 

Ilya was getting annoyed now. He could tell that Luca was starting to shut down. With every new question about Eric, every new angle the reporters tried to take, Luca retracted even more from the media darling he had come to be. Ilya knew that the reporters were just trying to get a headline or a clip to post on their socials, to capitalize on the fan fare online. Ilya couldn’t entirely blame them, it was their job afterall, but it still pissed him off. The media had caused him so much harm over the course of his career—more than he cared to admit—and he’d be damned if he let them do the same to Luca. 

He glanced over at Coach Wiebe who was standing in the corner of the room, waiting for his own press conference which followed. He looked equally as frustrated as Ilya felt and he only had to nod once before Coach stepped forward.

“We only have time for one more question.” Coach announced, glancing down at his watch.

The reporters seemed eager to get their final question in, likely something else about Luca and Eric, but Ilya pointed at a quiet man sitting near the back to ask his question. Luckily it was an easy one, just asking them how they felt about their game against Nashville that night and what their strategy was going into it. Ilya answered it quickly and then the three of them filed out of the room, Ilya sending Coach a tight-lipped smile as a silent thank you as he passed by. Only when they were in the hallway and out of earshot from the reporters did Luca turn to them.

“What the hell was that?” He asked, clearly frustrated.

Ilya sighed, “They’re just trying to get their headlines. Ignore them.”

“It was all about Eric,” He continued, sounding a bit more defeated as he pushed through the doors to the visitors wing of the Bridgestone Arena, “I don’t think I’ve had a single question about myself or my game in like a week.” 

“I’m sorry, Luca.” Troy admitted. Luca’s face softened immediately.

“It’s not your fault, Troy. Don’t worry about it.”

Luca squeezed Troy’s shoulder reassuringly and they made their way to lunch with the rest of their team.

“How’d it go?” Bood asked when they had grabbed their food and joined them at one of the tables. Luca immediately tucked into his chicken and rice bowl, head low as he avoided the eyes of their waiting teammates. Eric watched him, a small crease forming between his eyebrows.

“It was fine.” Ilya answered simply.

“Same bullshit as usual?” Wyatt said light-heartedly, glancing over at Luca whose sour energy was hard to ignore. 

“You could say that.” Luca stabbed his chicken.

Eric glanced cautiously over at Troy and Ilya. Ilya just shook his head once, telling him that it wasn’t worth discussing further. The rest of the guys continued with their previous conversations and Ilya let himself be distracted by whatever Dykstra and Bood had been chatting about. He snuck a few glances over at Eric who sat there for a moment, almost like he was trying to decide what he could do to cheer Luca up or take his mind off of it. Something sparked behind his eyes.

“Oh Haasy, your sister sent me the funniest Reel.” He tried, hopeful.

Luca furrowed his eyebrows at him, “She did?”

“Yeah we’ve been talking a lot lately. Here, look.” He pulled out his phone to show Luca, who leaned in a bit closer to watch it. Ilya couldn’t see Eric’s phone from across the table but whatever it was it made Luca laugh. 

“So stupid.” He said fondly, pulling out his own phone to presumably text his younger sister. 

Ilya smiled to himself. 

“You let Young talk to your sister? Brave.” LaPointe joked, nudging Luca’s elbow as he continued to eat his own lunch. Luca and Eric looked at one another and then broke out into another fit of laughter.

“Was it something I said?” LaPointe whispered across the table to Troy who was snickering as well.

“No, buddy, don’t worry about it.” Troy reassured him. 

///

Luca’s emotions had been all over the place since Troy came out. When he first got out on the ice, he was so happy. He spent more time looking up at the signs than he did actually warming up, just trying to bask in the love from Centaurs Nation for as long as he could. Then, reality settled in. When Ilya decided to drive to Montreal to see Shane, Luca invited Eric to sleepover. He wanted it to be a nice night, one where they could celebrate everything that happened and maybe even get laid, but he was exhausted. He hadn’t even realized he was shutting down until Eric pulled him into his side and started brushing a calming hand through his hair. They fell asleep on the couch like that.

When he woke up the next day, the anxiety finally hit him. His mind spiralled into the worst case scenarios, the ones that led him to believe that everyone could see right through him. He convinced himself that everyone knew about him and Eric, even if he wasn’t on social media himself to prove it, he just had this sinking gut feeling that he was right. Still, when he brought it up to any of the guys, they reassured him that the fan response had been entirely positive. He wasn’t an idiot, though, he saw the amount of likes and retweets on some of the tweets that Eric had shown him the night of the game. Positive and obsessive weren’t too far from one another, it seemed. 

The guys had been supportive though. Ilya agreed to keep Luca’s phone in his room overnight so that he wouldn’t be tempted to redownload social media again. Harris let Luca use his office whenever he needed a quiet place to doodle or just exist, and Troy was there to distract him with silly bets and challenges during gym sessions. 

“I bet you $50 that you can’t do 20 pull-ups in a row.” He yelled over to Luca one time when he’d unknowingly zoned out on one of the benches. Luca immediately took the challenge. He got to 18 before his arms gave out. Troy didn’t make him pay.

Then there was Eric. He was always there, gently squeezing the back of Luca’s neck when he started to get lost in his own thoughts or leaning his thigh against Luca’s on the bench just to remind him that he was there. They were just small gestures but Luca found himself chasing them like they were the only thing holding him together. He didn’t care who saw. Well, at least when it came to his teammates. A small part of him wondered if they were viewing the extra affection between the pair with fresh eyes since Troy had come out. It didn’t scare him as much as he thought it would. He didn’t have the energy to worry about that too.

What helped him more than anything was being on the ice. It was the one place where he felt like he could be entirely himself, not a caricature or a version of himself that people expected from him. His brain would go quiet and his body would take over. It felt like a reset every time they had a practice or a game. That was, until their game against Nashville.

One of Nashville’s players, Stewart, was on him from the start of the game. Luca thought nothing of it at first. He was used to teams assigning a specific player to him; typically one of the faster defenders who could keep up with his stride. Tonight’s match-up was different though. 

It started when they crouched beside one another for the puck drop. 

“Gonna score a goal for your boyfriend tonight?” Stewart said under his breath. 

Luca just ignored it. He took a steadying breath and tried to remind himself that it was the same homophobic bullshit he’d experienced on the ice for years. This guy knew nothing. He was just trying to get a reaction out of Luca. He wouldn’t give it to him.

Later in the first period, when Luca’s shot on net was saved by the goalie, Stewart got in his face. He lightly shoved Luca out of the crease which would’ve looked normal from the outside, just a player defending his goalie, but it wasn’t.

“Are you and your boyfriend going to film a Get Ready With Me video after the game?” Stewart asked with a small smirk on his face. Beside him, his goalie chuckled. 

“Ooh, that was a good one.” Luca replied sarcastically this time, brushing Stewart’s hands off of his chest. He pivoted on his heel before Stewart could say anything more and glanced over at the bench. Eric was already watching him and when he caught Luca’s gaze, he nodded once . Luca nodded back and took a steadying breath as they crouched for the next face-off. 

At the start of the second period, after Ilya scored the first goal of the night, Luca hoped that the chirping would fizzle out. He was wrong. 

“So tell me, does he fuck you or do you fuck him?” Stewart asked after a stoppage in play had them skating around the back of the net together. Luca gripped his stick a little tighter.

“Do you ask all of the rookies about their sex life?” Luca spat. That caught Troy’s attention and he immediately skated over to them, getting in Stewart’s face. 

“We got a problem here?” Troy asked, staring down Stewart with an anger that Luca rarely saw in Troy. He forgot all about his reputation back in Toronto until it came to moments like this.

Luca tugged on Troy’s elbow lightly. Truthfully, he wouldn’t mind unleashing Troy on Stewart—he was really getting on his nerves—but he almost didn’t want to give the guy the satisfaction. 

“It’s fine, Troy.” Luca looked between the pair of them carefully. Stewart was just grinning down at Troy while he glared up at him.

“Leave my rookie alone, Stewart. I mean it.” He threatened as he let Luca pull him away. Stewart just winked.

When they got back to the bench, Troy was still muttering about the whole thing under his breath. Luca nudged his knee.

“It's fine, seriously. He can say all the homophobic bullshit he wants, it means nothing to me.” 

The words didn’t feel right even as they left his mouth. He knew that it was a lie and so did Troy, it seemed, as he glanced sideways at him. He made another comment under his breath about how he wanted to punch the guys’ lights out. They hadn’t realized Coach was listening to their conversation until he clapped a hand on Troy’s shoulder and reminded him that he needed to lay low for a little bit. 

During the second intermission, Coach Wiebe kept a suspiciously close eye on Luca. He went through the motions of his routine anyways; re-taping his stick, eating a banana, untying and retying his skates with a practiced ease. He even accepted the earbud that Eric handed over to him, playing soft acoustic covers that helped to settle Luca’s heartrate. It took a little bit more effort to tame his thoughts which were still swirling with Stewart’s comments. 

“Ok, listen up.” Coach called out suddenly, clapping his hands together once. The chatter died down around the locker room and Luca removed his earbud to give his Coach his undivided attention.

“I’m changing the lines up for the third period. Bood you’re back on first, Haas you’re on second.” He announced. Luca’s heart dropped. He looked over at Ilya only to find him already staring back. His jaw was clenched but his face was otherwise emotionless as he tried to gauge Luca’s reaction to the news.

Luca didn’t take it well. His mind was already swirling with possibilities of why he was being pushed down to the second line but Coach didn’t let him fester for long as he walked over to speak to him personally.

“You’ve done nothing wrong. I just want to add more depth to our second line to put a few more points between us.” He said quietly so that the other guys couldn’t hear.

Luca nodded along to his words, trying to take them at face value. Coach tapped his clipboard against Luca’s shoulder before leaving the room. That was when Eric slapped his thigh excitedly. 

“You know what this means?” He said knowingly, already grinning over at Luca. 

“What?” 

“The Drop Puck 3000!” Eric cupped his hands around his mouth to yell. Luca flinched while some of the guys chuckled around them. 

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see.” He chuckled noncommittedly. He didn’t want to get Eric’s hopes up. It had been a bit of a stalemate game since Ilya had gotten his scrappy goal and Luca wasn’t entirely convinced that the Drop Puck 3000—a name coined by LaPointe back in October after Luca and Eric had first executed the move—would do the trick. They needed to play it smart, not flashy. And if the Drop Puck 3000 was anything, it was flashy.

“It’ll shut those assholes up.” Eric whispered, placing his own earbud back in his ear. Luca wondered whether that was true.

When they got back out for the third period, Stewart was visibly confused when Bood lined up next to him for the face-off. Luca averted his eyes when he looked over at where he was sitting on the bench. He was silently grateful that he didn’t have to worry about him anymore.

When they finally got onto the ice, everything was fine. Luca had the puck and was flying down center ice, deking in and out of players as he went. He didn’t even need to look behind him to know that Eric was trailing his every move, maintaining a respectable distance as they went. At the last second, when it was just one defender and the goalie left, Luca tipped the puck between his legs quickly, before pivoting right to draw the defender with him. The idiot followed him, leaving just Eric to slapshot the puck directly into the top left corner of the net.

The horn blared loudly through the silent arena and Luca didn’t even have a second to breathe before Eric was crashing into him.

“I fucking told you! The Drop Puck 3000 lives on!” He beamed, squeezing Luca a little tighter. Luca just laughed.

When they skated past the Nashville bench on their way to their own, he glared at Stewart. He looked visibly pissed.

The rest of the game went smoothly. They maintained their 2 goal lead and Luca found himself getting lost in the game. He felt like a little kid when he was out there with Eric, just two kids messing around and setting up plays just to see what might happen, with no external pressure or worries in the backs of their minds. Even Dillon seemed to pick up on their chemistry, taking a bit of a backseat so that the two of them could do what they did best.

They won the game 3-1 and Luca felt lighter as he shook hands with the line of Nashville players. His heart sank as he approached Stewart. He intended to just shake his hand and move on without a word but Stewart seemed to have other plans as he firmly grasped Luca’s hand in his own. 

“So how does it work?” He smiled innocently, pulling Luca closer into him for an awkward sort of hug.

Luca furrowed his eyebrows, “How does what work?”

“You, Barrett, and Young. Do you let them take turns on you? Is it Barrett one night and then Young the next?” 

Luca’s jaw clenched as he pulled away from Stewart. He forced himself to take a deep breath.

It isn’t worth it. He’s not worth it.

When he tried to skate away, Stewart placed a firm hand on Luca’s shoulder, holding him there. He leaned in closer and whispered, “What about Rozanov? Does he get a turn too?”

There was a loud ringing in Luca’s ears then. Suddenly he wasn’t on the ice in Nashville anymore, he was in a dark alleyway in Montreal. It was cold, the type of cold that settled in your bones, and it smelled like vodka. Strong, shitty vodka. A large man who looked awfully like Comeau was crowding him, shrinking him down to a size he hadn’t been in many years. 

“You seem like the type, though. The type who would bend over for anyone who asked. Is that what’s going on with Rozanov?”

A firm clap on his shoulder snapped him out of the memory. He blinked rapidly and shook his head to figure out where he was. There was a line of hockey players staring at him with confused expressions on their faces. The saber tooth tiger painted across the front of their jerseys told him that they played for Nashville.

Right, okay. You’re in Nashville. The game is over. 

He glanced over his shoulder to see that the line was moving without him. 

Stewart, 33.

He was grinning over his shoulder at Luca, almost maliciously. Then it clicked. 

The incessant chirping. The homophobic comments. 

He brought up Ilya.

“You mother fucker!” Luca barked. He dropped his gloves and tackled Stewart to the ground without another thought. When they landed, Luca quickly scrambled to his knees, grabbed a fistful of Stewart’s jersey with one hand and started landing punch after punch with the other.

It was like he wasn’t even in his body the way that he was thrashing around. Stewart was cowarding on the ice, trying to protect his face as Luca continued punching him. There was blood. Lots of blood. Splattered on the ice, on Luca’s knuckles, on his own jersey. And it was loud. People around him were yelling, some of them were in fights of their own, and the ref was blowing his whistle directly in Luca’s ear as he tried to pull him off of Stewart. 

“Enough! Haasy, enough!”

Someone was yelling behind him but Luca couldn’t quite tell who. His chest was heaving, heart still thumping in his ears, when he finally let go of Stewart’s jersey. The ref pulled Luca off of him, placing his body between the two of them so that Luca wouldn’t go for another round.

“Not feeling like a hot shot now, huh, Stewart? You think it’s cool to pick on the rookie? Does it make you feel good?” Luca yelled over the ref’s shoulder as he lay motionless on the ice, “You’re fucking weak! Can’t even fight back. You homophobic piece of shit.”

Amidst his anger, his taunting all came out in French. He wished he’d said it in English but it didn’t matter, Stewart wasn’t conscious when Luca was dragged off the ice by a couple of his teammates.

///

Luca was immediately scrapped from post-game media. They all knew that it wasn’t a good idea to put him under that microscope so soon; the reporters would make a big deal out of his first fight, try to spin it in some way to be about Eric, even if it was. They didn’t need that confirmation though. They were probably already spinning whatever narrative they wanted. Luca tried not to think about it. 

The locker room was silent after the game. Luca sat in his stall with his head in his hands, trying to dull the headache that had bloomed behind his eyes. Stewart hadn’t landed a punch on him but ever since the fight his head was throbbing. The medics reassured him that it wasn’t anything serious, probably just his body coming down from the adrenaline rush. They wrapped his hand in an ice pack and gave him a couple of Tylenol. He was still waiting for them to kick in. 

Coach Wiebe was pulled into a meeting with the officials immediately following the game while Ilya and Bood talked to the media. Turns out Luca accidentally started a full-on brawl between the two teams which took a long time for the officials and coaches to defuse. He only regretted it a little bit.

Luca knew that someone was going to ream him out for it. He wasn’t sure whether that would be one of the game officials, Coach Wiebe or Ilya. He half-expected a call from Yuna later that night and a few disappointed texts from Sophia the next morning but he already decided he wouldn’t be going on his phone for the foreseeable future.

“Haas.” Coach Wiebe said sternly when he finally walked into the room. Luca reluctantly lifted his head up to meet Wiebe’s gaze, “Come with me.”

Looks like it’s going to be Coach.

He stood up slowly and followed Wiebe out of the room, choosing to ignore the way that his teammates eyes’ followed after him. He silently followed Wiebe down the hallway to a small room. Once inside, Luca sat down in one of the empty chairs that faced a desk, which Wiebe perched on the edge of. He just stared at Luca for a moment, carefully crossing his arms over his chest. 

“How’s the hand?” He nodded down at Luca’s hand which he was cradling in his lap. He adjusted the ice pack that was taped to his knuckles carefully, wincing only a little bit as the plastic bag dragged across the cuts.

“It hurts.” Luca admitted sheepishly.

Coach nodded slowly. The silence that stretched between them created enough room for Luca’s anxiety to grow. Now that he had a bit of time to think about it, it was so stupid. He was so stupid. He’d let Stewart get to him, even after promising himself that he wouldn’t, and he’d put the team in harm's way. All because he couldn’t handle a few cheap shots about his sexuality.

“Listen, Coach, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let my anger get the best of me, it won’t happen again—”

“What was he saying to you?” Coach cut him off. 

Luca cocked his head to the side.

“What?”

“Stewart. What was he saying to you?” Coach clarified, situating himself a little more comfortably on the edge of the desk.

Luca looked back down at his hands but didn’t say anything. How could he possibly explain to his coach what Stewart had said. It felt wrong. Too personal. Definitely not something his Coach needed to hear about.

When Luca didn’t answer, Coach Wiebe sighed.

“Luca I can’t help you unless you tell me what happened.”

“What are my charges?” Luca asked instead, finally meeting Coach Wiebe’s gaze.

He paused for a moment, almost like he was weighing the options on how he wanted to navigate this conversation. He answered anyway.

“5 minute major for fighting. Game misconduct. Suspension for at least 1 game, maybe more depending on what the league thinks. They haven’t told us how much the fine is but the first offense is typically $5000. Probably $25,000 for the team.” He rattled all of the information off nonchalantly, like they were talking about the weather.

Luca’s eyes widened. 

Coach smiled sadly at him, “But if you tell me what happened I can advocate for you.”

He looked back down at his hands. The Tylenol must’ve started to kick in because his knuckles weren’t as sore as they had been just a few minutes ago.

“He was being homophobic. Making comments about me and Eric. About Troy...and Ilya.” He said the names hesitantly, unsure just how honest he could be with Coach without giving too much away. 

“Can you be a bit more specific?” He prompted. He hesitantly met Wiebe’s gaze which held more concern than Luca expected it to. It encouraged him to continue. 

“It was fine at first. Just dumb comments asking if Eric was my boyfriend, if I was going to score for him tonight, what we’d be posting on social media later. But then—” Luca paused to let go of a shaky breath, “He started making more personal comments about my sex life. He asked if I let them take turns.”

His face was flushed, eyes closed tightly when he said the last bit. It was embarrassing. He’d never talked to a coach like this before. His heart was hammering on his chest, palms sweaty even though one of them had ice pressed against it.

“Fuck,” Coach said under his breath, sliding a hand over his face, “Okay, I will file a claim with the league. I’m sorry you had to deal with that tonight.”

“Sorry?” Luca repeated, dumbfounded. 

“I saw him talking to you throughout the game, I had a feeling that’s what was going on. Why do you think I pushed you to the second line?”

Oh.

Coach chuckled to himself as Luca put the pieces together. A small blush rose to his cheeks. After another moment of silence between them, Coach sighed. 

“Listen Luca, I know you’ve been under a lot of scrutiny lately—both you and Eric—and I want you to know that you have my full support. I will make the reporters sign waivers not to ask you about one another, I will get Harris to put filters on our comment sections, I will release a statement if you want me to. You say the word and I will do it.” Coach said seriously.

Luca opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. 

Does he know? Did one of the guys tell him? No, surely not. 

“I don’t need to know the details. I never do when it comes to my players' relationships, that’s your business and your business alone, but I just want you to know that I understand.” He took a steadying breath, like he was trying to reassure himself that this was okay, before continuing, “I know what it’s like to be a closeted player in this league. I had a relationship of sorts with one of my teammates early on in my career and it didn’t end well. I wish someone would’ve been there to help me through that when I was struggling.”

Luca’s jaw fell open. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with his coach right now, and that the Centaurs were even gayer than he previously thought. It felt like some sort of sick prank. He wondered where the hidden camera was in the small office they found themselves in.

“So if you need something, anything, my door is always open.” Coach Wiebe finished with a tight-lipped smile. Luca snapped his jaw shut.

“Thank you, Coach.” He found himself saying.

Coach Wiebe nodded once.

“Now go shower and then get the hell out of here. Before one of the security guards drags you out.” He nodded Luca out of the office. Luca made his way to the door before pausing in the doorway. 

“Is Stewart okay?” He asked meekly. 

Coach Wiebe chuckled under his breath.

“Yes. He maybe has a concussion but he’ll live.”

“Okay, good.” Luca nodded to himself, pausing for another moment before adding quietly, “I didn’t want to hurt him.”

“I know, Luca.”

Luca sent him a final, solemn smile before heading back to the locker room. When he walked back in, the energy was lighter than when he’d left. Their post-game win playlist was playing softly over the speakers and most of the guys were chatting amongst themselves.

“Feelin’ better, Haasy?” Wyatt smiled up at him when he made his way over to his stall. That drew the rest of the guys’ attention over to him. He couldn’t even answer before some of the other guys piped up.

“Leave it to Haasy to start a full-on brawl, eh?” Dykstra hollered.

“It’s the only way he knows how to fight.” LaPointe chirped, thinking back to the last time the benches had cleared in their game against Montreal. The guys laughed.

Luca just rolled his eyes, a lazy grin coming to his face.

“What can I say? I like to make a scene.” He joked. They all knew that was the farthest thing from the truth.

“Okay well next time can you give me a heads up? You almost gave me a heart attack.” Eric joked. There was an undertone of anxiety to his words that Luca quickly picked up on. He sent him an apologetic smile.

Then Ilya and Bood walked into the room. 

“There he is! Hell of a fight, rook. Like an angry chihuahua.” Bood ruffled his hair as he walked past. Luca blushed as the guys all laughed.

He hesitantly looked over at Ilya, a little worried about how he might react. Instead of the disappointment or frustration that he’d expected, Ilya’s shoulders just deflated at the sight of him, like he was relieved to see Luca in one piece. He quickly walked over and pulled Luca into a hug. He melted into it. 

“I’m sorry, Ilyusha.” Luca mumbled into his shoulder. Ilya squeezed him a little tighter before pulling away.

“You better be.” Ilya said seriously. He squeezed Luca’s shoulder once more before making his way over to his own locker, “Oh, and Mitshuka?”

He spun on his heel.

“Yeah?” 

Ilya grinned.

“Your right hook could use some work." 

Chapter End Notes

I think I've said this a million times but I will say it again -- thank you for all of your kind comments on this fic! I've been having a bit of a tough time lately but reading your kind words has been helping. You truly give me motivation to keep writing (I save screenshots of them on my phone so that I can read them when I'm in a bit of a slump hehe)

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Angsty / angry Luca is one of my favs <33

Chapter 30: Anya

Chapter Notes

Chicago, March 2021

“It’s ridiculous. A two-game suspension? For a first-time offense? It’s almost laughable.”

Yuna looked about as tired as Ilya felt on the other end of the FaceTime call. In the square beside them, Sophia was nodding along empathically. Her hair was tucked into a messy pony tail that she kept tightening every few minutes, almost like the action would relieve some of her own frustration. Ilya wasn’t sure if it was towards the league or her physics assignment which he still could not understand even though Sophia had explained it to them twice.

Beside him on the bed was Luca who had his hood pulled up protectively around his head. He was fiddling with the strings of his hoodie, eyes glazed over as Yuna went on about how bad Roger Crowell was at his job.

The morning after their game against Nashville, conveniently just moments before they boarded their plane to St. Louis, they had been informed of Luca’s charges. It was an irrational judgement, one that the league deemed appropriate considering the “brutality of Luca’s outburst”. Really, it was the only way that Roger Crowell could punish the Centaurs organization for all of the trouble they had caused lately. Ilya saw right through it and luckily he wasn’t the only one.

It didn’t take long for the internet to freak out over Luca’s fight. They quickly stirred up narratives and storylines as to why Luca Haas—first round draft pick, media darling, the quiet kid who drew personalized gifts for his teammates’ birthdays and anniversaries—would drop his gloves against one of Nashville’s notorious goons. The assumptions were only solidified when Luca’s impassioned yelling was quickly translated to English and laid over numerous TikTok edits. 

If the two-game suspension wasn’t enough, both Luca and the Centaurs organization owed hefty fines. Ilya offered to pay it on Luca’s behalf, which Luca quickly shut down. What he didn’t know was that Ilya had already arranged it with their finance guy, John. He reluctantly agreed to hide Ilya’s reimbursement somewhere in the many stocks that he’d been managing on Luca’s behalf since October. What Luca didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him—atleast, that’s what Ilya had been telling himself for months, now.

Coach Wiebe tried to fight the ruling. He’d filed a claim with the league, citing Stewart’s homophobic comments as the reason for Luca’s outburst. They said that they would take the claim under consideration. In other words, nothing would change. 

That only left the Centaurs organization with one choice. They decided to release a statement, one that was carefully crafted between the genius of Harris, Yuna, and Farrah, alongside the Centaur’s legal team, to protect Luca and the team as a whole. It was simple, just stating that there was no room for hate of any kind in the MLH—whether that be homophobia, racism, sexism—and that the Centaurs organization would always support their players for standing up for what was right. Everyone on the team reposted it to their stories. Everyone except for Luca. He couldn’t afford to cause any more problems.

The statement had been received well by the public. It even kickstarted a slew of comments, podcast segments, and tweets calling out the MLH for their blatant ignorance in this situation, choosing to support a homophobe over Luca. There was clearly a right side to be on and, as always, it wasn’t the side that Roger Crowell chose. 

All in all, Roger was not having a good week and Ilya loved it. He even got away with liking a few comments and tweets saying so before Harris, through a poorly-masked grin, told him to knock it off. 

“Okay, hun. I think Luca gets it.” David sighed from the chair beside Yuna, squeezing her shoulders to relieve some of the tension that permanently resided there.

“I’m sorry, Luca.” She conceded, looking at Luca through the screen with maternal concern. 

Luca shrugged, “It’s okay.”

“It’s not and that’s okay.” Sophia piped up. 

Luca attempted a small smile before it turned sour and he collapsed into himself. He hugged his knees up against his chest and covered his face with his hands, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. Ilya placed a hand on his knee. 

“What’re you thinking, buddy?” David probed calmly. 

Luca had been fairly quiet since they got on the plane to St. Louis, likely beating himself up over the whole thing. Ilya, Eric, and some of the other guys tried to get him to open up about it but it was no use, he completely shut down. After exchanging a few concerned texts with Sophi about it—and learning that he’d received a scathing email from his parents about making the family look bad—they agreed that it would be good to have a family FaceTime call. Ilya thought it would do him some good to know that people in his personal life still supported and loved him.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Luca finally spoke up but the way that his voice wavered betrayed him. Ilya squeezed his knee once just to let him know that he was there for whatever emotions needed to surface.

“It’s okay, Mitshuka.” He whispered reassuringly.

“It’s not!” Luca snapped suddenly, throwing his hands up and making Ilya’s eyes widen, “It’s all just so stupid! Stewart gets to say whatever he wants to, gets to be a homophobic piece of shit, but as soon as I do something about it I’m the one who gets punished. And not just a slap on the wrist, but two whole games? And I have to pay thousands of dollars to a league that’s homophobic itself! Meanwhile, Stewart gets to walk free, like nothing even happened. It’s all just so…”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence. Luca rubbed at his eyes furiously, trying to stop the tears that came to the surface before they could fall. Someone on the call sighed sadly.

“Luca, look at me.” Sophia said firmly. After a moment he hesitantly lifted his head to look at the screen. His eyes were red and a singular tear slipped down his cheek. 

“You are okay. Anyone with half a brain cell agrees with you and I’m not just talking about your own fans. I saw some posts from San Jose fans, Boston, New York. Heck, I think I even saw some stuff from Toronto fans, and that’s saying something! I will literally put together a collage if you want me to.” Everyone was silent as they let Sophia continue, her sentences punctuated by Luca’s soft sniffles, “And it’s not just the fans, but also the media. I was just reading an article from ESPN about how bad Roger Crowell looks trying to make a spectacle of you.”

Ilya glanced sideways at Luca. He was fully engrossed by Sophia as she laid everything out so simply for him. He appeared visibly relaxed by her matter-of-fact tone and it brought Ilya comfort knowing that if couldn’t crack Luca’s anxious brain, then at least someone else could. He knew that this family FaceTime call was a good idea. 

“The whole Centaurs organization has your back. Coach Wiebe, Harris, all of your teammates. We’re all behind you, so is Shane, and Eric…”

Luca cracked a small smile. Ilya peered over at the screen where Yuna and David were listening diligently. Luca hadn’t told them about the nature of his relationship with Eric yet but something told him that they had figured it out. They’d let Shane and Ilya’s relationship fly right under their noses for years, there was no way they were letting that happen again.

“Besides, you are Luca Haas. Centaurs legend in the making, candidate for rookie of the year and, for some god forsaken reason, the guy that all of my friends fawn over in the cafeteria.” She continued.

Luca chuckled under his breath which made Sophia smile.

“There is no world in which you come out of this situation worse than when you walked into it. You are in the right here. You did what any sane person would’ve done in that situation.”

“I probably would’ve done a lot worse.” Ilya added helpfully.

“Ilya probably would’ve killed him.” David piped up. Ilya raised his eyebrows, corroborating what was likely supposed to be a joke. 

“I think even Shane would’ve done something. Maybe not throw a punch but he definitely would’ve said something to that idiot.” Yuna quickly added.

Luca appeared more settled as he looked around the screen at everyone. There was no arguing with their logic, no matter how anxious he still was about it. Ilya brushed his thumb back and forth across his knee.

“Thank you. I needed that.” He admitted shyly, wiping away the tears that had slipped out as Sophia was talking.

“It’s what we’re here for.” Sophia beamed, tightening her ponytail one more time, “Now, where is Shane? He promised to hop on.”

Luca furrowed his eyebrows, “He did?”

As if Sophia wished it into existence, Shane’s face popped up on the screen. He was clearly walking outside somewhere, his phone held under his chin as he squinted down at it. Even from this angle, Shane looked so beautiful. It was almost annoying. Still, Ilya beamed at him.

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m late, just got out of a meeting.” He smiled down at the camera, the video glitching ever so slightly as he continued walking, “How’re you doing, Luca?”

“A bit better. Thanks for hopping on, Shane.” Luca said sheepishly.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.” He smiled kindly.

“I’m also doing good, moy solnyshko!” Ilya leaned a bit closer so that he could see Shane more clearly. Even with his slightly delayed video you could clearly see Shane roll his eyes.

“That’s good, Ilya. I was so worried about how you were doing.” Shane deadpanned. David snickered to himself as Ilya pouted at the camera.

“Okay, so are we all good on the Nashville stuff? Because if so, I have some news.” Sophia announced, trying to hide the giddy smile that came to her face.

“Yeah I think we’re good. Unless you have anything else you want to talk through, Luca?” Yuna prompted, still with the same worried tone that she so often possessed.

“Please, I can’t keep talking about this. I’m exhausted.” He chuckled nervously, “Go ahead, Sophia. It better be good.”

She cleared her throat dramatically and sat up a little straighter in her chair.

“Well, as you all know, I applied to a handful of Canadian universities after Christmas…” She started, no longer able to hide the excited grin on her face, “And you will be happy to hear that… I got into McGill!”

Everyone immediately broke out into their own excited exclamations.

“Oh honey, that’s amazing!” Yuna emphasized.

“Seriously amazing, kid. You’re going to love it!” David added, smiling wider than Ilya had ever seen before. 

“Congratulations, Sophia! I’ll have to show you all of the best cafes and bakeries when you get here.” Shane exclaimed, his video glitching on the biggest smile.

“I knew you could do it! Smartest one in the family!” Ilya beamed, grabbing Luca by both of his shoulders and squeezing him.

Luca remained entirely silent, his eyes wide and jaw hung open as he stared at the screen. He almost couldn’t believe it—his baby sister was going to come to Canada. She was only going to be a couple hours away. 

“You’re moving to Canada?” He whispered, still in shock. 

“I am!” She replied. Luca’s face contorted as his eyes welled up again. This time, he didn’t even attempt to hide it.

“Oh my god. You’re moving to Canada!” Luca sobbed, realization hitting him all at once.

Ilya felt a pang in his chest. As he looked between Luca and Sophia he wondered what it was like to have a bond like they had; one where his little sister would uproot her entire life just to be in the same timezone as her big brother; to be able to hop on a train for a weekend visit or easily spend the holidays together without having to cross oceans. He tried to convince himself that it must feel like the moment he was first offered a spot on the Centaur’s roster but a smaller part of him, a darker part that he tried to swallow down, told him that this was different. Still, he smiled and pulled Luca into his side, rubbing his upper arm comfortingly as Yuna dove into the logistics of Sophia’s move.

When a knock came at the door a little while later, Ilya flinched. Luca was barely able to keep his eyes open at that point, the past few days taking a greater emotional toll on him than he cared to admit. No one seemed phased by it as David had gone into a long tangent explaining the different McGill traditions to Sophia. She listened intently, even if it was a bit boring, and Ilya found himself smiling the whole time. 

“Sorry guys, I think we have to go now.” Ilya said quietly, looking over at the clock on the bedside table to see that they had team lunch soon. He shimmied himself out from under Luca’s weight which made Luca groan as he fell back against the headboard. 

“Okay, let’s try to do this again sometime soon! I miss seeing all of your faces.” Yuna said quickly, sitting up in her own chair to cut David off from any further stories he wanted to share from his college days.

“Yes, preferably when Shane isn’t in a wind tunnel.” Ilya joked, grinning over at where Shane was sitting on a park bench, his hair blown in every direction. He still looked beautiful.

“Just be glad I was able to join.” Shane said. 

“I am always glad to see you.” Ilya grinned.

“Luca, please text us if you need anything.” David interjected, scanning Luca’s tired face.

“And try not to look too depressed in the box tonight.” Sophia joked, referencing the many photos on social media of him sitting in the private suite during their St. Louis game, entirely unimpressed with the whole situation and not even attempting to hide it. In his defence, he didn’t think he’d be caught on camera.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Luca grumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “And, thank you for calling. This really helped.”

Ilya smiled over at him as they all said their goodbyes and hung up. When he finally managed to get over to the door and pulled it open, Eric was waiting there impatiently.

“Gosh, took you long enough.” He joked, pushing past Ilya into the room and jumping on top of Luca without another word. Luca giggled at the impact and wrapped his arms around Eric as he nuzzled into his side.

“Okay, okay. Not on my bed.” Ilya groaned. They ignored him.

///

Luca was happy when they finally returned to Ottawa. Travelling with the team was hard enough but travelling with the team when he couldn’t play? That was a whole other thing. 

Coach Wiebe tried to help him reimagine what the two-game suspension meant, “Think of it as time for you to rest before our play-off run.”

He tried to remind himself of that when they brutally lost to Chicago. He was just happy to have a couple days off and to be spending some time out in the countryside. When they pulled up to the Drover Farm late one Sunday afternoon, they were immediately bombarded by dogs.

“Aah! Harris, who is this good boy? He is even bigger than Chiron!” Ilya exclaimed happily as he crouched down to greet him, the dog’s enormous brown paws planted firmly on either of his shoulders. 

“That’s Mac,” Harris said from the porch, “He’s trouble.”

Ilya didn’t seem to agree as he scratched behind Mac’s ears with both of his hands. The handful of other dogs surrounding them were jealous that Mac had assumed all of Ilya’s attention and so they turned to Luca, trying to be the next chosen one.

Luca held onto his tray of banana bread protectively as he leaned over to greet Chiron, who kept accidentally trampling on a much smaller, white dog that looked like she could use a bath. Luca just chuckled at him before turning to greet the other dog—Shannon, Harris supplied—who greeted him with many kisses on his knuckles. He smiled down at her.

“You should come inside,” Troy called from beside Harris, throwing an arm around his shoulders as he walked out of the house to join them, “It’s freezing out here.”

“But I have not met everyone yet!” Ilya argued as he twisted around to greet another dog. She was shyly wagging her tail, clearly excited by their presence but still trying to figure out her place amongst the pack.

“Who is this one?” Ilya asked.

“Not sure yet.” Harris supplied, leaning into Troy’s side, “She just got here.”

Luca stood again, knitting his eyebrows together as he looked between Harris and the dog. She was gorgeous, potentially an Australian shepherd breed, with floppy ears and a calico coloured coat. Ilya was immediately enthralled by her, excitedly informing her that she would love the Drover Farm. Luca had never been here before but he suspected that he would love it too, what with all of the dogs and the sweet smell of apple-something wafting over from the door.

Harris quickly explained that someone must’ve driven out to the countryside and abandoned her, seeing as no one within a 10 kilometer radius knew who she was. Their neighbour who was a vet confirmed that she wasn’t even chipped. 

“That’s awful.” Luca frowned over at the dog. 

“Fucking horrible.” Troy confirmed, clearly unimpressed with whoever abandoned this sweetheart.

The dog stayed close by Ilya as they all trampled into the house. It was just as charming as Luca had suspected. The floors were a warm pine colour and there was a worn out carpet that trailed the staircase on the nearest wall. There were family pictures hanging everywhere; some posed, clearly, as the family all wore colour-coordinated outfits, and others candid from childhood memories, it seemed. There was even a photo of Troy and Harris from their most recent pride game which made Luca’s chest grow warm when he saw it. Luca quickly shuffled off his boots and added them to the small cluster of shoes near the front door. 

“I think most people are in the living room,” Harris said, leading them further into the home towards a chorus of laughter.

“Buckle up. It gets loud in here.” Troy joked under his breath.

Ilya just smiled and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Luca gulped, clutching a little tighter to the banana bread that he’d made them, not wanting to show up empty-handed. It felt a little silly now that he could smell the sweet aroma of what could only be an apple pie baking in the oven. Who brought a banana-based dish to an apple farm anyways?

Those thoughts were immediately squashed as he rounded the corner and came face to face with the most Canadian-looking family Luca had ever met. Harris went around the room, introducing everyone one-by-one, as if he needed to confirm that the two ladies with the same face as his were his older sisters.

When he got to his mom, Ilya interrupted him.

“How could I forget?” He asked silkily, “The best dance partner I have ever had.” 

Luca’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh, stop it,” Mrs. Drover said as she came to give him a big hug. Ilya winked over her shoulder at Harris who was just rolling his eyes at them. He informed Luca of a previous charity event where she had agreed to be his dance partner, making Luca giggle as he jokingly asked her if she was still married. When Harris’ dad came over to greet Ilya with a booming laugh, Mrs. Drover turned to Luca. He was still in the doorway, just taking it all in as Ilya fell into stride with their family with ease.

“You must be Luca!” She smiled kindly up at him. She was a short, plump woman with rosy cheeks and a smile that made you feel like you were the most special person in the world. Luca’s heart rate settled a bit.

“I am. Thank you so much for having us, we baked this for you.” He said sheepishly, handing her the glass dish.

“Is that banana bread?” One of Harris’ sisters—Margot, maybe—shot up from her spot on one of the plush armchairs and rushed over.

“It is.” Luca confirmed.

“Luca is the best baker I know.” Ilya supplied from where he was now sitting on the floor, preoccupied by the different dogs that were fighting for a spot on his lap. 

“He made us chocolate chip cookies back on our first media day and I’ve been dreaming of them ever since.” Harris grinned, coming back in from the kitchen with a few cans of cider in his hands.

“I beg him to make some for us all the time and he refuses.” Troy pouted dramatically. 

Luca’s cheeks turned pink as the two women turned back towards him.

“Well, we must be lucky then.” Mrs. Drover beamed, patting him on the shoulder before taking the banana bread loaf into the kitchen.

As they sat around the cozy living room, Luca quickly realized where Harris got all of his energy from. It was like someone had brought 5 different radios into the same room and played them all at the same time, all at max volume albeit on different channels. Somehow their voices layered over one another in a perfectly chaotic way. Luca stayed quiet for most of the evening, cautiously sipping on his cider in between laughing at stories from Harris’ childhood.

“And he still claims that he didn’t put the skunk there! As if I was going to believe that.” Anna exclaimed after a very detailed story from their teenage years.

“How could I possibly put a skunk in the truck without it spraying me?” Harris defended, throwing his own hands up in the air as he clearly pointed out the most obvious flaw in her accusation. 

The chatter didn’t die down when they finally sat down for dinner. Luca’s cheeks were hurting from smiling so much. He couldn’t recall a time when he’d ever experienced a family dinner like this; one where everyone was so boisterously themselves and were encouraged to do so. Even Troy was chiming in, finding the perfect moments to add his two cents to a joke to make it even funnier. It made Luca's stomach feel a little lighter even as he stuffed it with food. 

When Harris handed him the basket full of homemade rolls, Luca gladly took another one. Apparently it was Mr. Drover’s secret recipe which Luca decided he would need to get by the end of the evening; he refused to let this be the last time he ever had one of these. It helped that he was sat next to Harris’ dad at the end of the table. He had a lot of questions for Luca—about Switzerland, his family, his experience as a rookie—clearly picking up on Luca’s shyness and trying to coax him into quieter conversations while the others all chatted over one another. Luca answered them all politely, even if some of them were hard to answer. Troy kept a careful pulse on the conversation, though, and anytime Luca hesitated, he would gently steer them elsewhere. 

“That was a good fight the other night.” Mr. Drover complimented as he dipped a chunk of his roll into the gravy pooled at the bottom of his plate, “I was quite impressed. Surprised, but impressed.”

“Dad, don’t encourage him.” Harris joked.

“Thanks, Mr. Drover.” Luca smiled sheepishly, returning his attention to his own plate. 

“Sam.” He corrected, not for the first time that evening.

“Sorry, Sam.” 

“The Canadians have been converting you, I see.” Margot joked, nodding her head at Luca’s instinct to apologize.

“Da they have, even though I have been around him the most. It is terrible.” Ilya grinned from a few seats down the table.

“We’d all be screwed if he started adopting your behaviour.” Troy chirped, eliciting a few chuckles. Ilya just narrowed his eyes at him. If they weren’t at a dinner with Harris’ family, Luca knew that he would’ve chuckled a roll at Troy’s head. Troy seemed to realize that too so he stuck his tongue out at Ilya just to rub it in.

A little while later, after their bellies were stuffed and their ears were talked off, Luca found himself in the kitchen cleaning dishes with Harris. Mrs. Drover insisted they didn’t have to but they did anyway; under the assumption that Troy and Ilya would also be helping. Instead, they insisted that they had to let the dogs out and had yet to return. That left Luca holding a tea towel as he watched Harris dunk another plate into the sink full of soapy water.

“Thank you for tonight.” Luca said quietly.

“No need to thank me, buddy.” Harris smiled kindly over at him. Luca looked down at the plate in his hands as he meticulously dried it and then put it back on the shelf. They fell into a rhythm like that, Harris washing and Luca drying for a few more minutes in comfortable silence before he spoke up again, “Are you excited about the shoot with Oreo?” 

The Oreo brand deal with Eric was coming up and Luca would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous about it. Not that he was worried about doing it with Eric, that part he was mostly over, it was more to do with his recent fight in Nashville. Surprisingly, Oreo hadn’t said anything about it. Farrah was even surprised by it, claiming that a stunt like that would usually go against Oreo’s family-friendly image. Luca wasn’t so sure whether Oreo’s silence on the matter was supposed to comfort him or not.

“I’m excited.” He lied. Harris glanced at him sideways. If he picked up on it, he didn’t say anything. 

“I’m excited too! I’ll be there the whole time.” Harris said cheerily, handing Luca another plate. He hesitated as he dried it off.

“Did Ilya put you up to that?” Luca asked cautiously.

Harris dunked a mug into the soapy water.

“He didn’t have to.”

Luca just nodded to himself. The idea of Harris being there brought him a sense of comfort and he carried that feeling with him as they approached the end of the evening. After finishing up the dishes they found that the dogs had been waiting at the back door, staring through the flimsy screen at Troy and Ilya as they talked quietly together on the porch.

“Liars.” Harris muttered under his breath.

Luca just chuckled as Harris cracked open the door, letting the hounds loose. It seemed to startle the pair as the dogs all jumped off the porch and ran towards the orchards. All except one, the unclaimed dog from earlier who saddled right up beside Ilya, sniffing at his sneakers.

“She likes you.” Luca commented with a fond smile.

“I am hard to resist.” 

Luca just rolled his eyes as he went to sit on the other side of the dog, petting her soft fur. She really was cute. 

“So,” Harris said slowly from behind them, “We’re going to have to find her a new home, probably.”

He shared a look with Troy, one that Luca knew all too well. He glanced hesitantly over at Ilya who had yet to take his eyes off of the dog, clearly in deep thought.

“We love dogs here but we don’t have room for one more at the moment.” Harris continued, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed.

Ilya seemed to snap out of the trance he was in.

“Harris. Are you trying to set me up? Is this a blind date with a dog?”

Troy chuckled from his other side.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, pal. This is just a friendly dinner with a sweet dog who needs someone to love her and give her a big, fancy house to explore.” Harris insisted.

“I have already taken in one stray, there is no way I could take in another.” Ilya joked.

Luca shoved him, “Hey!”

Ilya just snickered at him, still not taking his eyes off of the dog who seemed to be smiling up at him, her tongue lolled to one side. Luca wasn’t quite sure how he felt about having a dog but it wasn’t up to him, it was up to Ilya, and based on the way that Ilya was looking down at her there was no way they were leaving here without her.

He asked Harris a few more questions about the logistics of owning a dog. Apparently he’d never owned a dog before which surprised Luca; Ilya just loved them so much and he was so naturally good with Chiron that it never occurred to Luca that he’d never had a pet before. 

“Anya.” Ilya’s sudden proclamation brought Luca out of his thoughts. 

“What?” Luca cocked his head to the side.

Ilya smiled down at the dog.

“I think her name is Anya.”

///

Luca smoothed out his Oreo branded jersey as they posed for the camera. It was an early morning shoot, much to Eric's dismay, but it meant that they got the rest of the day off which Luca was looking forward to. Ilya had taken Anya to visit Shane in Montreal. Apparently the Pike children wanted to meet her, which Luca didn't mind. It gave him the house to himself which, oddly enough, Eric hadn't questioned when he slept over the night before. 

So far they had done a series of shots of them doing warm-up stretches and drills, then some fun challenges that the Oreo team had set-up. One of them was a shot accuracy challenge where they had to hit the Oreo branded targets in each of the four corners of the net. Luca hit all four targets while Eric only hit three. He made sure to really play up his taunting of Eric for the cameras. Eric just rolled his eyes at him and shoved him away playfully. 

Then they moved onto the main commercial where the pitch was that they were supposed to be fighting for the last Oreo. They had them sprint the length of the ice to reach the last cookie, dodging obstacles along the way. They planned for Luca to win that too but when he finally got ahold of the cookie, Eric took a bite of it out of his hand before he could eat it himself. It was off-script but it made Luca burst out laughing as Eric just smiled over at him, his teeth full of Oreo bits. The crew seemed to like it anyway.

They finished the day with a basic photoshoot of them in their Oreo jerseys, holding cookies up to the camera and smiling. Eric ate a lot of Oreos, so much so that the production assistant had to inform him that they only had a handful left to use. It made Luca giggle as Eric paced out his bites a bit better. 

He hadn’t realized it until the end of the shoot but Harris hadn't been around as much as Luca first thought. Sure he would pop in here and there, make a joke to one of the social media girls or grab a few behind the scenes clips himself, but for the most part he was nowhere to be found. It confused Luca but he didn't have much time to think about it before they were filming something new. 

The producers suggested that they played the newly wed game and gave them a pair of branded white boards to write their answers out on. Eric immediately smiled over at Luca.

“Hmmm, this game sounds familiar.” He joked, referring to their first media day where they’d played the same game. Luca smiled at the memory. He really hoped that his cheeks hadn’t turned as red as they felt at that moment.

When he heard Harris speak up, he looked just past the camera at where he was now standing beside the crew. He asked them to change the name of the game, insisting that there were better names that they could use instead. He even suggested a few off the top of his head which were more closely aligned with Oreo as a brand. Luca’s eyes widened at how bold Harris was being. It wasn’t like him to step on anyone’s toes.

“That’s above my pay grade, I’m just relaying direct orders from the big guys.” Harris said when one of the producers tried to push back. It was supposed to be a joke but it came across a bit more harsh than Luca was expecting. There was no mincing words, upper management had made their message clear; if Oreo wanted to use any of the footage they’d captured that day under the Centaur’s roof then they had to play by the Centaur’s rules. 

You could feel the tension that hung in the air as the production team quickly reconfigured their script for the guys to introduce the game, this time with a new name. Harris returned his attention to his phone as he typed away furiously on it, clearly being pulled elsewhere as they kept filming. Luca only pulled his attention away from him when he felt Eric nudge his side.

"You okay?" He whispered, searching Luca's face.

"Oh uh, yeah. Sorry." He forced a small smile.

A little while later when they'd wrapped everything up, the main producer came over to shake their hands and thank them for the successful shoot. Once she explained the next steps—the editing process, approvals from all sides, and the posting schedule—she quickly returned to her team and they started packing up their gear. Harris was yet again nowhere to be found so Luca followed Eric back to the locker room. They quickly changed out of their gear and showered before they huddled into Eric's car. 

When they pulled out of the player’s lot and drove towards the front entrance, there was a small crowd waiting for them. 

“Did Oreo post something on their socials today?” Luca scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. 

“Uh, I don’t think so.” Eric admitted as he slowed the car.

It wasn’t unusual for a handful of fans to be waiting for them outside of the practice facility. What was unusual, this time, was the reporters that were waiting for them; reporters that they hadn’t been warned about by security before they left the facility. Luca felt his stomach churn as they approached.

Just as Eric rolled down his window to greet a couple of the kids, already reaching for a jersey or a puck to sign, one of the reporters yelled out.

"Luca! Eric! Any thoughts on the video of Ilya and Shane?” 

He squinted over at the reporter, trying to get a better glance at him to assess the volatility to the question. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to get these sorts of questions. He was often asked about Ilya and he’d done enough interviews to know exactly what to say to get through them unscathed. 

Luca had no clue what video the guy was referring to so he just sent him a tight-lipped smile as he took a jersey from Eric to sign it himself. He draped it casually over his lap as he uncapped one of the sharpies that Eric kept in his car.

“Luca, did you know?” Another reporter called out. He continued to ignore them as he scribbled out his name on the back of the jersey.

“Here you go!” Eric beamed down at one of the kids as he handed him the jersey, trying his best to ignore the reporters as they got closer to his car with their cameras and microphones. 

“Step back!” The security guard barked. He was out-numbered and everyone knew it so they pressed in closer. 

“Eric, I think we should head out.” Luca said quietly to him, keeping an eye on the crowd as Eric quickly tried to sign more things. He remembered what it was like being a little kid and looking up to MLH players so he always took his time with things like this, asking the kids about their love for the game and encouraging them to keep playing. It seemed to pain him as he came to the same realization that Luca did. 

As they politely said their goodbyes and Eric started to roll up his window, a reporter called out one final thing.

“How long have Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander been together?”

Luca's heart stopped.

What?

Chapter End Notes

So much happened in this chapter -- Sophia getting into McGill? Anya getting adopted? Yaas first brand deal? And then, well, the moment you've all been waiting for hehehe...

Super excited for what's to come in this fic, I hope you are too!!

 

ALSO, happy pride month babes!!! You deserve all the sunshine🌈❤️

Chapter 31: Better Off

Chapter Notes

TW: panic attack and negative self-talk

Ottawa, March 2021

It almost felt like a movie the way that everything slowed down in that moment. Luca froze. His ears were ringing and he was trying his hardest not to show any panic on his face as he frantically scanned the crowd. The reporters were silent, their cameras were pointed, and the young fans looked equally as confused as Luca felt. Their parents, on the other hand, appeared sheepish but also curious as they edged a little closer to the car, waiting on one of them to say something.

He wasn’t sure if it was the ringing in his ears or the fact that Eric stepped on the gas, but Luca felt nauseous as they pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road. His brain was flooded with so many thoughts.

“What the hell was that about?” Eric asked, the sharp intonation to his words pulling Luca back into the car with him. 

He glanced over at Eric, at the way that the muscles in his jaw were tight as he looked nervously between Luca and the road. His knuckles were turning white around the steering wheel. 

“I don’t know.” Luca exhaled.

It was all he could think to say. He really had no clue. The reporter could’ve been lying for all he knew, making something up to get a good clip for social media. His brain wasn’t really working at that moment but if he could remember correctly, there were some weird conspiracies online about Ilya and Shane’s relationship. Before he left social media he definitely saw a few tweets here and there shipping them in a similar way that they did with him and Eric. He wondered if that was what the reporter was referring to when he yelled out that question but Luca needed to be sure before he let himself spiral. 

He looked sideways at Eric, “I need your phone.” 

“What?” Eric furrowed his brows.

“Your phone, Eric. Now.” Luca sounded exasperated as he snapped his fingers a few times. Eric fumbled it out of his pocket and then handed it over to Luca without another word.

“What’s your passcode?” Luca sighed.

“0-2-5-7.” Eric admitted sheepishly, his eyes flickering between the road and his phone in Luca’s hands. Luca didn’t have time to think about how sweet it was that Eric’s passcode was both of their jersey numbers before he was opening Twitter. 

He hadn’t been on there in a while but it didn’t take him long to find what the reporter had been talking about. Eric’s phone connected to the car’s bluetooth as he clicked on the first video that popped up. Suddenly, Hayden Pike’s voice was blaring through the speakers, making Eric flinch. 

“Hey Brad! This is Hayden Pike from the Montreal Voyageurs. A little birdy told me it was your birthday today…”

“What are you watching?” Eric leaned over to catch a glimpse of the phone. Luca didn’t answer, just kept watching the video as his gut twisted with a sick anticipation. 

Then he saw it.

Shane and Ilya making out in the background of the video. 

“Holy shit.” Luca gasped, one hand coming up to cover his mouth. 

“What?” Eric’s tone was urgent, panicked, which was in stark contrast to the chipper tone of Hayden’s own voice as it continued over the speakers. 

“...Anyways, hope you have a great day, bud! And thanks for all your support.” The video ended but Luca rewinded it to somewhere in the middle of the greeting, letting it play through again.

Shane and Ilya were still making out. Like really going at it. Much like they were back in Ilya’s living room on Halloween. There was no way to say that it wasn’t them, to claim plausible deniability; those were Shane’s freckles and Ilya’s hands, the cross necklace bobbing between them as Ilya pushed Shane up against the wall—

“What is it?” Eric sounded impatient now as they came to a stop light. 

Luca rewinded the video again. Then again.

No, this couldn’t be happening.

There was no way that this was happening. 

“Luca!”

He snapped out of it and slowly glanced over at Eric. Luca opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He couldn’t find the right words to explain everything. He supposed that it didn’t matter what words he chose, Shane and Ilya were out. It wasn’t a secret anymore.

Eric didn’t give him a chance to explain himself before he snatched the phone out of Luca’s hands and watched the video for himself. He watched Eric’s face the whole time; at the way that his eyebrows were scrunched up as he watched Hayden start the FanMail video. Luca knew exactly when he’d seen it because of the way his eyes nearly popped out of his head. 

“Oh my god! Is that—?“

“Yes.”

Eric looked over at Luca with his lips slightly parted in surprise, “And they’re—?”

Luca gulped. It was enough confirmation for Eric as he cursed under his breath.

Behind them, a loud horn sounded. Eric flinched and they realized that the light had turned green. He held up an apologetic wave to the person behind them before taking off again.

“I need to call Ilya.” Luca decided.

“Of course.” Eric confirmed. He seemed to be in a bit of a daze, just going through the motions as he kept both hands on the steering wheel and indicated to turn onto the highway.

Luca fumbled with his own phone and slid it open. He already had countless notifications waiting for him on his home screen but he ignored them all in favour of calling Ilya. It rang all the way through to the voicemail.

“Hi, this is Ilya. I will never listen to your voicemail…”

“Fuck, Ilya.” He cursed to himself and then called again. It rang out into the voicemail. Luca was bouncing his knee nervously as they merged onto the highway in silence.

“Please, pick up. Please.” He pleaded, pinching the bridge of his nose and pressing the phone to his ear again. He just needed to hear Ilya’s voice, he needed Ilya to tell him that everything was fine. Voicemail, again. 

He tried to call Ilya a few more times before he gave up and pressed on Shane’s contact. 

Surely it would be fine. Surely he would pick up. 

He didn’t.

“Fuck!” Luca threw his phone down by his feet, rubbing both of his hands over his face and then through his hair. He tugged at the ends of his hair, ignoring the way that it stung.

“It’s okay.” Eric said, still in a bit of a daze.

He placed a hand on Luca’s thigh. Luca just looked down at it, unimpressed. 

It wasn’t okay and Eric knew that but he was just trying to be helpful so Luca didn’t say anything about it. They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes as Luca racked his brain with all of the possibilities of what this could mean. He resisted the urge to pull up Twitter on Eric’s phone again and see what everyone was saying. Maybe the footage of him and Eric had already been uploaded. 

“I need you to take me to the Hollander’s house.” He announced, nodding to reassure himself that this was a good idea, “Yuna will know what to do, David will drive us to Montreal and we’ll get this all sorted.” 

The plan sounded rational in his head. He glanced over at Eric to gauge his reaction. 

He gulped, “Yes of course, where am I going?” 

///

When they reached the Hollander’s house, Luca paused. He turned towards Eric who was trying and failing to hide his discomfort with the whole situation. He obviously had a bunch of questions—maybe even some frustrations seeing as Luca had been keeping a huge secret from him for so long—and it made Luca even more nervous. He pushed those feelings aside. Eric’s questions could wait. Right now, he needed to focus on his family.

“Thank you for the drive.” He said quietly. He couldn’t quite meet Eric’s eyes which had been glazed over for the whole drive. 

Eric scoffed.

“You think I’m leaving you like this?” He asked, finally looking over to meet Luca’s blank stare, the one he’d had since he put the Hollander’s address into Eric’s GPS. The same blank stare that allowed his brain to travel the never ending, anxious pathways he so creatively paved. Eric sighed, “Luca, I know this is eating you up inside. I am not letting you go through this alone.” 

His tone was gentle but firm as he took hold of Luca’s hand. He squeezed it once. 

“Are you sure?”

Luca betrayed himself by asking the question but he needed to be sure. Even if the idea of having Eric there brought him a sense of comfort he wasn’t going to force him into this whole situation. Luca wasn’t quite sure what he was about to walk into but he knew it would be hectic. Eric deserved better than to have to go through that with him, especially not after he’d been carefully kept on the outskirts of it all for so long.

“If I don’t come with you then I’ll just be sitting at home, answering Bood and Cassie’s neverending questions, waiting by my phone until I hear from you.” He chuckled nervously. 

Luca cracked a small smile.

“Okay.” 

Luca knocked on the door and waited impatiently for someone to answer it. It took a few seconds but then David was standing there. When he saw Luca, he immediately melted.

“Come here, buddy.” He held his arms out and Luca immediately fell into them, clutching onto the back of David’s shirt.

“Is it them?” Yuna’s voice called hopefully from further into the house. When she appeared at the top of the stairs, her shoulders deflated. She sent Luca a sad smile. He understood immediately.

Luca pulled away from David and turned to look at Eric. He was standing awkwardly behind him on the front porch, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he glanced between the three of them. Luca suddenly felt nervous for a whole new reason but he cleared his throat anyway, feigning some sense of confidence for the both of them.

“Uh Yuna, David. This is Eric.” He said, placing a hand on Eric’s shoulder to make him feel a bit more comfortable. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Eric.” David didn’t even hesitate to hold out his hand, smiling at Eric when he shook it.

“You too, Mr. Hollander.” Eric smiled nervously between him and then Luca.

“Mr. Hollander is my father,” David chuckled fondly, “You can call me David.”

“David.” Eric corrected.

“Come in.” Yuna ushered them up the stairs. 

Luca gave her a quick hug when he reached her and then she turned to give one to Eric as well, telling him how nice it was to finally meet him. Something in Luca’s chest undid itself as they pulled apart and Eric sent him a small, hopeful smile. 

“Have you heard from them?” Luca asked as soon as he sat down on the couch. 

“No, nothing. You?” Yuna sighed when Luca shook his head. She picked up her phone to check it again, just in case, “I’ve talked to Farrah. We already have a statement ready for whenever they get back to us.”

Luca nodded, fiddling with the hem of his sweater, trying his best to pretend like he wasn’t nervous. Beside him, Eric was sitting a little too straight to be comfortable. He was looking all around them, taking in the living room; there were baby pictures of Shane on the mantle, a stack of board games and puzzles tucked neatly into the corner shelf. On the television was a panel of reporters from TSN quietly discussing what could only be the breaking news banner at the bottom of the screen. It read, “Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov: More Than Friends?” in bold letters.

The television quickly switched off and Luca looked over at where David was now standing in the doorway, remote in hand. He smiled sadly at him before placing it down on a table beside Yuna, just out of Luca’s reach. 

Luca cleared his throat.

“I want to go to Montreal.” He said matter of factly.

Yuna’s head snapped up from her phone, “You what?”

“I want to go to Montreal.” He said again, slower this time and with a hint of frustration that he had to repeat himself.

“Honey—“ She started but Luca wouldn’t let her finish.

“Ilya’s not answering my calls. Neither is Shane, and I just, I can’t imagine—“

When he started choking up, he felt the calming pressure of Eric’s hand on his thigh again. It gave him a chance to pause and take some deep breaths. He couldn’t settle his anxious thoughts which were only heightened by the fact that Yuna and David were staring at them, at Eric’s hand on his thigh. 

“I just need to know that he’s okay.” Luca finally said.

Yuna nodded to herself, shifting forward a bit in her seat so that she could lean over and take his hand in her own. He reluctantly met her concerned gaze. 

“I know it’s hard. Trust me, I wanted to drive over there as soon as the news broke, but then I realized that we need to respect their wishes.” Yuna glanced over at David like she was seeking his support. He came to stand at the head of her chair, placing a hand on the back of it.

“They will call us when they’re ready to. And we’ll be here to answer when they do.” David confirmed.

Luca looked down at his hand which Yuna was still squeezing. He wanted to believe them, to take them at face value, but his mind was still swirling with uncertainties. What if Ilya completely shut down again? What if Shane had a full blown panic attack? 

“How about we eat? I’m sure you’re hungry after your shoot.” David decided. Eric sat up straighter, somehow.

“That would be really nice.” Eric admitted. Luca didn’t have the energy to argue. 

A little while later, after David had coerced Luca into making a batch of crepes with him, the four of them were sitting at the kitchen table with a whole spread in front of them. Luca had yet to touch any of the food but Eric was already on his third crepe, this one smothered with Nutella and strawberries. 

Eric moaned happily as he took another bite, “These are so good.”

Yuna and David smiled at him, clearly amused, while Luca just glared sideways at him. If Luca wasn’t still a nervous wreck, he’d find it all endearing. Whatever nerves Eric had felt when they first arrived were quickly erased the minute he found out they were having crepes. They were then fully squashed when he quickly learned that David was an even better cook than Luca. He wondered how Eric could bounce back like that, seemingly switching off the part of his brain that made him nervous. He'd never been so lucky.

“So how was the shoot?” Yuna asked over her cup of coffee. Luca knew she'd been holding onto that question from the moment they arrived on their doorstep. 

“It was good.” He said quickly, trying and failing to mask just how disinterested he was with this whole situation. The sooner he got his visit over with, the sooner he could be on the road to Montreal. He was still trying to decide which of Ilya’s sports cars would survive the wintery road conditions. It was a fairly clear day, just a list dusting of snow but maybe there would be black ice. The last thing everyone needed was for Luca to end up in a car crash on Highway 417.

“Just good?” David probed, eyeing Luca’s empty plate. Luca reluctantly grabbed a crepe to appease him. He took his sweet time spreading peanut butter on it, though.

Luca just shrugged in response. He knew that neither David nor Yuna deserved it, they had only ever been good to him, but he couldn’t tame the growing pit of frustration in his stomach. He suddenly understood the sentiment of his childhood friends who often complained about family dinners growing up. He thought back to the many family dinners he’d had with his friend Sebastian—if that’s what you could call him—and how curt Sebastian had been with his parents at times. Luca hadn't understood it then; all he ever wanted was for his parents to sit with him and ask about his day. But now? Now he got it. 

“It went really well!” Eric stepped in, sensing Luca’s frustration and squeezing his knee under the table as a warning to knock it off. Luca took a cautious bite of his crepe as Eric continued, cheerfully, “They had us do this one obstacle course. In one of our first takes I tripped over a pylon and completely ate shit—oh, sorry! I uh, well I fell, and then it took forever to get Luca to stop laughing so that we could shoot it again.”

Eric’s cheeks tinted pink in embarrassment before David encouraged him to continue. Yuna just sipped on her coffee, looking between the two boys with a knowing smile on her face. Luca tried to ignore it for fear that his own cheeks would turn pink. 

Eric delved into story after story from the day, explaining everything in excruciating detail. He was clearly excited and wanted to entertain their hosts with his dramatic reenactments of the day. Luca lightened a bit as Eric went on, stepping in here and there to bring him back down from the dramatics that he used to exaggerate some of the finer details. Yuna and David just smiled at them the whole time, asking clarifying questions so that Eric would continue. He only paused when his phone started buzzing incessantly on the table, which he politely apologized for and took a second to look over before turning it off. Luca had a sneaking feeling he knew what that was about.

“And then Harris said something like, ‘That’s above my pay grade, I’m just relaying direct orders from the big guys,’ and it took me everything not to laugh.” He giggled, putting on a fairly accurate impersonation of Harris as he told them about how the producers wanted to play The Newly Wed Game with them.

“So did you still play the game?” Yuna asked, looking over at Luca with her lips pressed into a thin line. 

“Yeah, we did. They just changed the name.” Luca supplied, taking another sip of his tea. Yuna and David exchanged a look that he had seen many times before. 

Eric seemed to understand it as well. 

“They didn’t make us do anything we weren’t comfortable with.” Eric clarified with a wince of a smile in Luca’s direction. He returned it.

David and Yuna seemed satisfied with that answer and the conversation continued. They asked about Eric’s family, how he enjoyed living in Ottawa, how Bood's baby was doing. It took no time for Yuna to ask about his time in the Juniors, going so far as to compliment him on a clutch goal he got during his play-off run in his final year.

"Yeah, I remember Shane showing me the clip. Very impressive." She smiled at him. Eric was only flustered for a moment before he thanked her. 

As the morning turned into afternoon and their conversations came to a natural conclusion, Luca’s nerves finally settled. Yuna only kept them for a little while longer until she trusted that Eric would take Luca straight home and not to Montreal. He had to pinky promise her that he wouldn’t let Luca out of his sight and Luca knew that there was no way he was convincing Eric otherwise, no matter what he bribed him with. As soon as Yuna gave you that look, you knew not to cross her.

They left with a tupperware full of leftover crepes which Luca placed on his lap as he fiddled with his seatbelt. Eric turned to him, studying his face as he tried to pretend like everything was fine.

“I know that this wasn’t the ideal situation to do this but,” He paused and reached over to grab Luca’s hand, “Thank you for introducing me to your family.”

Luca’s heart skipped a beat as he met Eric’s gaze. He sent him a sad smile. Eric squeezed his hand once before turning on the car and driving them back home.

If it were under any other circumstances Luca would’ve been excited about introducing Eric to the Hollander’s. It was the closest he would ever come to introducing his—well, whatever Eric was to him—to his family. He knew that the chances of Eric meeting his biological parents was slim and with Sophia moving to Canada in the coming months, the chances would become even slimmer. He didn’t have the emotional energy to think about how his parents would react to him possibly dating a guy so he pushed it aside for now.

They spent the rest of the day watching movies in the living room. A new Disney movie with a dragon had come out and Eric really wanted to see it. They tucked into the couch together, Eric with his head resting in Luca’s lap, a half-eaten bowl of popcorn cradled in one arm. Luca played mindlessly with Eric’s hair and tried his best to focus on the movie. He even deliberated which character he wanted to draw for Eric later, just something small that he could add to the collage still hiding under his bed. He only got so far before his mind trailed elsewhere. Whenever it did, his hands would still, almost alerting Eric to reach up and tug him out of his thoughts again. Eric never said anything though, just stayed in this mindless loop for as long as Luca needed him to.

At some point Luca fell asleep and only after Eric made his way through a second movie, he gently shook him awake.

“Time for bed, sleepy head.” He whispered, pressing a few gentle kisses to Luca’s neck and cheek to wake him.

He groaned in response and begrudgingly let Eric lead him up the stairs to his bedroom. When they finally tucked in for the night, Luca wasn’t tired anymore. He looked over at the alarm clock on his bedside table and saw 12:00. Then 12:15 and 12:30. By 12:45 he was frustrated and slowly got out of bed, careful not to wake Eric who he suspected wouldn’t wake up even if he brought a marching band in there to serenade him. 

Luca made his way back down to the kitchen and filled the kettle with water. He got out the mug that Eric had painted him on their first date, the one with a collage of Luca’s favourite things on it, and made his way over to the cupboard where Ilya kept a wide variety of teas for Luca. He’d bought them the first week Luca had moved in, before he realized that Luca was fairly plain in his tea preferences. It came in handy now as he plucked a sleepy time teabag out for himself.

As he waited for the water to boil, Luca leaned against the island. He tapped his finger nails against the counter, scanning the dark room. Everything felt so still and quiet. He could faintly hear the wind whistling outside but when he looked out of the back windows, it was pitch black. He walked over to the living room and turned on the standing lamp in the corner of the room, taking a second for his eyes to adjust to the new light. 

When he spun around, he saw his phone on the coffee table. Eric must’ve left it there when he brought him up to bed. His eyes flickered over to the staircase and he paused for a moment. No sign of Eric.

He could download social media right now if he wanted to, just do a quick scroll. It wouldn’t hurt to be informed, to see what people were saying online.

The kettle clicked loudly in the silence of the room and it startled Luca. He quickly walked over and made his cup of tea, with one milk and one sugar like always, and then he made his way back over to the living room. He carefully placed the mug down on one of the coasters and grabbed his phone, falling back into the couch and unlocking it all at the same time.

There were so many notifications. He’d barely touched his phone all day, not since they left the practice facility that morning. Luca quickly downloaded Instagram, TikTok, and Twitter before flipping over to his texts. He started with the Centaurs group chat.

Bood: Roz, I have no words… I’m so sorry man

Wyatt: We’re here for you, Rozy🫶🫶

LaPointe: This doesn’t change anything, Cap! 

Chouinard: So sorry, Roz. We’re here if you want to talk about it!

Dykstra: Sorry you’re going through this, Rozy

Dykstra: But also, you bagged THE Shane Hollander???

Chouinard: Not now, Dyk…

Dykstra: Sorry

There were a bunch more supportive texts in there but Luca flipped over to The Centaurs Closet🏒🌈 group chat instead.

Harris: Ilya, I’m so sorry this is happening

Troy: You should’ve been able to come out on your own terms

Harris: We love you and we’re here whenever you want to chat!

Troy: ^^^

Troy: And I’ll fight Hayden if you want me to

Harris: Troy!

Troy: I mean… I definitely will not fight Hayden

Troy: 👀

Harris: Troy…

Troy: What??? He outed them!

Harris: I’ll deal with you later 🙄

Harris: Ilya, please call me when you’re feeling a bit better, there’s some business stuff we have to settle

Harris: But only when you’re ready! I mean it

Harris: Take some time away from socials for now and send Shane our love and support as well💛

Then there was Sophia.

Sophia: Oh my god

Sophia: There’s no way this is happening…

Sophia: Are they okay? They aren’t answering my texts

Sophia: Luca?

Sophia: Luca please answer me as soon as you’re done with your shoot

Sophia: It’s going to be okay!

Sophia: They’re going to get through this, Yuna will have a plan

Sophia: Luca, please text me back

Sophia: I talked to Yuna

Sophia: She told me you stopped by their place

Sophia: And you brought Eric? We can talk about that later

Sophia: Luca?

Sophia: Okay I’m assuming your phone is off

Sophia: Please text me tomorrow

Sophia: I love you❤️

Sophia: Everything is going to be okay, I promise!

He felt guilty for not texting her back all day but decided he would leave it until the morning. She would be awake soon anyways, if she wasn’t up already, and he didn’t want to have to explain why he was up so late. There were some more texts from Bood, Harris, and even Coach just checking in to see how he was doing but he ignored those for now. Instead, he went back to his social media apps and logged in.

He started with where it all unfolded—on Twitter.

He wasn’t quite sure who posted the original video, there were so many now; screenshots, clips, even edits of the video paired together with other footage from their careers. It made his head spin. Lots of people were shocked, some were celebrating, others—well, he tried his best to scroll past those unpleasant comments. Then there were the official accounts, like ESPN, TSN, Sportsnet, Bleacher Report, and Barstool, which Luca expected, and the tabloids and news organizations from outside of the hockey world who quickly hopped on the bandwagon. Everyone had something to say. Everyone had a new take on the video; speculation on whether it was a joke, questions about how they overcame their rivalry, accusations that they must not try too hard when they played one another on the ice. Some people started to dissect every aspect of their relationship all the way back to before their rookie years when they filmed their first CCM brand deal together. “It must’ve started then!” one fan wrote, only to be quickly torn to shreds by a slew of other people who disagreed. Some people were going so far as to speculate on who was the top and who was the bottom, which made Luca uncomfortable. He didn’t want to think about that for any longer than he had to so he quickly scrolled on.

It didn’t take long to find the Yaas shippers amongst the noise. The video of Luca and Eric taken earlier that morning had started to spread like wildfire. The people in Shane and Ilya’s personal lives had been quiet about all of it—either out of respect or confusion, Luca wasn’t quite sure which—and that only made the video of Luca and Eric stick out even more.

Most of the replies to that video were about what Luca expected; just fans feeling that much more vindicated in their belief that Yaas was real. Plenty of fans pointed out that if Shane and Ilya were together—two MLH players who had been painted as rivals for over a decade—then Luca and Eric being together was so obvious.

"It's like how the sun is yellow or that the number 2 comes after the number 1." One fan wrote under a thread of people arguing over the nature of Luca and Eric's relationship. Seeing so many people so invested in their relationship made Luca's head spin. He wasn't quite sure what emotion was sitting just under his skin as he scrolled on, his tea growing colder with every passing minute.

It was almost addictive reading through all of the replies and posts under the Yaas hashtag. There were tweets with tens of thousands of likes, thousands of reposts, hundreds of replies. People were posting links to YouTube videos—a series that dated back for months at that point—which were just compilations of clips seeming to prove that Yaas was real. He ignored the way that his stomach churned at the circulation of a Google Drive link that someone had titled the "Masterdoc of Yaas", whatever the hell that meant.

If it wasn’t overwhelming already some of the things he saw were downright stalker-ish; like one extremely zoomed in video of the two of them walking back to Eric’s car after they went to a cafe together in Ottawa. They were laughing and shoving one another the whole way. It must’ve been filmed from quite a distance, maybe behind a tree or something, because Luca hadn’t even known that they were being watched let alone filmed. If he did, he probably would’ve tamed the dopey smile on his face as he watched Eric round the car. They were just friends at that point though and friends smiled at each other, right? Wrong, according to the people of Twitter.

He kept scrolling. New speculations, timelines, questions, and accusations awaited him with every flick of his thumb. It didn’t matter that every new post made him feel more and more anxious. He just couldn’t stop, it almost felt like a high; if that high was the equivalent of a tonne of bricks pressing in harder against his ribcage, applying a painful amount of pressure to his lungs. 

Still, he scrolled.

He only stopped when he came across a tweet that was unlike the rest.

@user49291977: 

If Yaas is real then Eric Young is royally fucked for the rest of his career... #yaas #ericdeservesbetter #fucklucahaas

❤️768 🔁106 💬98

Attached to it was a link to a TikTok video which Luca hesitantly clicked on. It took him to a video with the caption, “Eric Young Living in Luca’s Shadow Part 5.” Luca’s stomach twisted uncomfortably but he let the TikTok play anyway. 

It was a 13 minute compilation video overlaid by a sad song and a black and white filter. First there was a clip from one of their practices when Eric had been mic’d up. They were doing a one-on-one shooting drill against Wyatt, and when Eric had missed his shot and then skated back over to the line-up, Bood shoved him jokingly.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want to get past The Wall.” Bood said, a small grin on his face. 

Cut to later in the video, when Luca had gone up for his own shot on Wyatt. He faked him out by slowly dragging the puck along the crease line, leading Wyatt to the left side of the net, only to flick it quickly to the right and sink it just past Wyatt’s foot. From beside Eric, Bood’s booming voice was easily picked up on the mic.

“You dirty dog!” Bood hollered over the rest of the team who were also applauding Luca’s shot in their own ways. Luca skated past the line with a sheepish smile on his face, accepting high-fives and pats on the shoulder as he went. 

When the camera zoomed in on Eric’s expression, it was hard to read. He almost looked sad, if Luca was reading it right.

It didn't help that Luca had completely aired his outstretched glove waiting to high-five him.

Next clip.

This one was an interview with Eric post-game. It had to have been last fall because his hair hadn’t been buzzed yet and his cheeks were a little rounder than they were today. He was smiling at the reporter as he quickly introduced Eric to the broadcast.

“Eric, you had a great game tonight against Minnesota—”

This was from their game back in October, Luca realized.

“—and you had a great goal in the second period set-up by Luca Haas. Can you tell us a bit about that?” The reporter leaned in a little to get Eric’s answer. His smile was so sweet as he immediately jumped into an explanation of the goal; how they’d been practicing that move as a joke during practice and were happy to execute it in the game. The Drop Puck 3000, Luca smiled faintly to himself. It was the first time they'd ever pulled it off in a game.

“You and Luca seem to be quite close. Can you tell us what you’ve learned from him as a teammate these past couple months?”

Eric's smile was a bit more tame as he gave a polite answer. Luca ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach as Eric talked about how hard of a worker he was. He knew deep down that this wasn’t the reason this clip was chosen for this compilation, it couldn’t be.

“And Luca has had quite a good start to the season. He’s scored at least 1 goal in your last 5 games. Can you speak a little to the work he puts in behind the scenes to achieve that?”

And, there it was. The way that Eric’s shoulders deflated ever so slightly, the way that he tried his hardest to maintain a small smile on his face as this idiot of a reporter droned on and on about Luca. He wondered just how often Eric’s interviews were hijacked by Luca’s own accomplishments.

He didn’t have to wonder for too long as the compilation quickly informed him of at least 3 other interviews where the reporters asked Eric more about Luca more than himself. His stomach sank with every new clip.

The TikTok went on like that. Clips from practices when the guys would chirp and jokingly compare them; footage from outside of arenas when the young fans would always ask for a photo with Luca and sometimes ignore Eric altogether. Eric took it all in stride though. He was never angry or disappointed, he tried his best to smile through it all, to be grateful. Heck, he'd been hiding it so well that Luca hadn’t even realized this was even happening.

How could Luca be so stupid? How could he be so fucking blind to the way that people had been treating Eric? He’d almost been letting it happen, right in front of him, no second thoughts about any of it…

Luca thought back on their shoot with Oreo earlier that morning, about the way that the producers insisted that Luca needed to win the obstacle course.

“It’ll just make the rest of the commercial funnier.” One of the assistants reassured them as they got Luca and Eric set-up at one end of the rink.

Luca was a little confused but he hadn't questioned it. He just turned to Eric with a competitive glint in his eyes and said, “Don’t go easy on me.”

And Eric had looked back at him, hadn’t even hesitated when he smirked and said, “I would never dream of it.”

Then Eric had tripped on the pylon and Luca had laughed and they had to take a few minutes to reset for the next take. Then Luca had won.

When the TikTok ended he clicked onto the faceless, nameless account and scrolled through it. There were at least 4 other videos with this same theme, a series just highlighting all of the times when Luca was the asshole who always came first and Eric was the doting lover who let himself come second. 

He watched all of them. Sometimes he rewinded certain scenes, things that he thought he could remember himself, this time seeing it all through a new lens. With every clip where Eric shut down or his eyes glazed over, Luca felt more and more sick, not to mention the clips from that time back in December when they weren't talking. His Talkin Puck podcast took on a whole new meaning. The game right after Christmas when Eric had forced one too many turnovers before getting benched; it made Luca feel even worse in hindsight knowing that he'd flirted with Daniela just to get that reaction out of him. The fans had clearly picked up on that too, making one too many TikTok's out of it.  

The comments under these videos didn't help either.

@CensFan81: Eric is always overlooked it makes me so sad 🙁

@ericyoungforever: Hey Siri, play Not Strong Enough by boygenius 

@ilyuca281: I’m a Haasy fan and even I know that Young would be so much better off if he was traded to another team

@user23190743: it's so clear that Luca doesn't care about Eric

@mlhnewbie: I feel so bad for him, he deserves so much better than this 

@prince_eric57: my heart hurts, look at his face😭😭😭

@user228394240: Haas is overrated anyways

@torontofan13: Young’s talent is being wasted with the Centaurs, come join us in Toronto buddy we’ll treat you right

There were of course fans who were defending Luca but it didn’t matter. The damage was already done.

He quickly turned his phone off and threw it to the other end of the couch, trying to swallow away the burning sensation in his throat. He took a sip of his tea. Luca gagged. It was far too flowery for his liking and the cool temperature did little to ease the bile that was creeping up the back of his throat. 

People hated him. Downright hated him. Because of who he was, because of what he was doing to Eric. Because of how he treated Eric, upstaged him,  made everything about himself. He was so selfish. How could he not see what he was doing to Eric? How could he not see how he was hurting him?

Luca was convinced that the room was getting smaller. It was getting harder to breathe. Was the air getting thinner? Why wouldn’t his lungs expand?

And Eric, his lovely Eric. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t tell him, he stayed quiet. It made Luca feel angry and then guilty and then defeated.

What exactly would he have told him? That being around Luca, by being associated with him, made him feel what exactly? Small? Lesser than? Overlooked? That the growth of Luca’s career, his brand, was suffocating? That it was taking up so much space that it started to take over Eric’s as well?

How would Luca have even responded to that? Would he have even listened to him?

Luca placed a careful hand over his chest. His heart was racing and he could feel it in his throat but not on his palm. The standing lamp in the corner was just a little too bright for him to look at. He blinked hard a few times. It didn’t help. 

He glanced over at his phone and imagined all of the other tweets, posts, comments, video compilations. Luca had been so selfish. He’d just deleted it all from his phone, simply pushed it all aside and pretended like it wasn’t real. He ran away from anything that could’ve maybe hurt his feelings, that could've made him overthink his relationship with Eric. He'd been so naive to think that the Yaas shippers were the worst thing hiding away on Twitter.

Instead of being a man, instead of growing the fuck up and building some healthier boundaries with it all, he’d pushed that responsibility right into Eric’s hands. Like a nuclear bomb with a dwindling timer. He’d forced Eric to read it all, to tell him the spark notes. And Eric did it, no questions asked. He showed him the complimentary photos, the TikTok edits of Luca on the ice, the way that TSN and ESPN and all of the other official broadcasters applauded him. And Luca believed him because he was selfish and ignorant and he didn’t want to think too hard about what was actually happening behind all of it.

He pulled at the collar of his sweater. Maybe it was restricting his breathing. Was it getting hotter? Maybe he would feel a little better if he just took off his sweater but his hands were shaking and he wasn’t really in his body and his lungs wouldn’t fill with hair. If his lungs would just fucking work— 

“Haasy?”

Eric was standing on the bottom stair rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

Just breathe, you fucking idiot. Just take a deep breath in. Don’t make Eric do this for you too. He has had enough of your bullshit.

“Haasy? What’re you—?”

Eric didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence because his eyes finally focussed on Luca. He crossed the room in a few strides and immediately fell to his knees in front of him. 

“Hey, hey.” Eric's eyes were darting between Luca’s own, clearly panicked, but his voice remained calm as he took hold of Luca’s wrists and gave them a gentle squeeze, “You’re okay. You’re okay, Haasy.”

“I–I didn’t kn–know.” Luca managed in between short breaths. He didn’t even realize that he was crying until Eric brushed a stream of tears away from his cheek.

“Shhh, Haasy. It’s okay, you’re okay.” Eric shushed, raising Luca’s arms above his head to expand his ribcage, “Breathe with me, okay? In, 2, 3, 4…”

Luca tried his hardest to force the air into his lungs.

“And out, 2, 3, 4…” Eric instructed. Luca obeyed.

They did that for a few minutes before Eric let go of his wrists. He braced his hands on top of his head and tried to focus on his breathing, on the gentle grip that Eric now had of his waist. He was rubbing Luca’s sides up and down slowly, as if encouraging Luca’s lungs to continue expanding. They listened. Of course they did.

Luca let his hands fall to his face and he rubbed at his eyes. This was all so stupid, so selfish—

“What happened?” Eric whispered. He pulled one of Luca’s hands away from his face but Luca refused to meet his eyes, instead staring right over his shoulder out the back windows. It was still nighttime but not nearly as dark as it had been when he first came downstairs. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, scrolling social media for. Maybe an hour? Two? He almost didn’t want to know.

“Haasy?” Eric tried again, ducking into Luca’s eye line with his big, brown eyes. He was concerned, pleading with Luca to just say something. Anything.

Luca amidst his weakness couldn't conjure anything up. The mere thought of it made his ribcage start to feel a little too tight again, his heart rate clumsily lapping over itself as he forced himself to stare into Eric's eyes. Eric seemed to notice as he applied a gentle pressure to his sides again. It reminded Luca’s body that it was okay—that he was okay. He was safe. 

Eric pressed his plump lips into a thin line before he nodded to himself and said, “Tell me five things you can see.” 

“What?” Luca asked, more confused than anything.

“Tell me five things you can see.” Eric repeated himself, a bit slower this time.

Luca furrowed his eyebrows. It felt silly but he looked around the room anyway.

“I can see the couch, the coffee table. Um, my mug that you made me, the remote, and I don’t know, the lamp?” Luca rattled off quickly. He still couldn’t quite look at the lamp though, it still felt too bright in the dark room.

“Good. Now what are four things you can feel?” Eric squeezed his sides again, almost like he was giving him a clue.

“Your hands.” He smiled faintly down at them as Eric rubbed his thumb into the folds of his sweater, “The couch is soft underneath me. And the carpet under my feet.

Eric nodded reassuringly, urging him to continue.

Luca averted his eyes from Eric’s as he mumbled, “The tag on my shirt is kind of itchy.”

Eric smiled fondly at him.

“What are three things you can hear?”

“It’s kind of quiet in here.” Luca weakly protested.

“Just try.” 

Luca sighed.

“The wind outside was loud when I first came down here but it’s a bit quieter now.” Luca acknowledged, looking out at the windows just past Eric’s shoulder, “The lamp is buzzing in the corner. And I guess I can hear my own voice?”

“What about two things you can smell?” Eric asked.

Luca took a deep breath in, trying his best to smell something. He was still congested from all the tears.

“I think that's chamomile tea.” He nodded over at the cup of tea which had to be freezing at that point. Another inhale, “And I smell your deodorant.”

Eric sent him a small smile as he raised a hand to cup his cheek. He wiped at the dried tears under Luca’s eye with his thumb.

“And finally, one thing you can taste?” 

Before Luca could answer, Eric leaned in and kissed him. It was soft at first and Luca melted into it. Eric swiped his tongue gently across Luca's bottom lip, deepening the kiss without any heat behind it. They didn’t get very far before Eric pulled away again, resting his forehead against Luca’s. 

“I can taste your toothpaste.” Luca whispered, his cheeks felt warm as Eric grinned at him. He pulled away to give Luca some space. He appreciated that as he took a few more steadying breaths, trying to match the pace of each inhale with Eric's own. Eric studied him for a few moments before speaking up again.

“How are you feeling?”

Luca shrugged. His heart rate had returned to normal and so had his breathing but his brain still felt so heavy. He wasn't necessarily thinking of anything in particular, not of the tweets or the clips he'd just digested, but he knew that they were lingering somewhere in the corners of his mind; that they would come back out to play when he had more energy for them. He dreaded the thought of that as his eyes fluttered shut again.

This was exactly why he left social media in the first place. His brain just couldn't take it, couldn't handle all of this. The good, the bad. The downright ugly, as it turned out, which he hadn't expected when he first logged into the apps earlier that night. When he'd asked Eric to keep a pulse on everything, he naively assumed it would just be the ridiculous fanfare that Eric had to worry about. The edits, the playful speculation. He hadn't realized the heavy burden he'd assigned Eric. The worst part wasn't the not-knowing. It was the fact that Eric definitely knew about all of this and he'd just kept carrying it in silence.

Luca pushed those thoughts aside as he opened his eyes again. Eric was staring at him, studying his every breath, the way that he had been tying and untying the drawstrings of his pyjama pants. Luca forced his hands to stop.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Eric asked, glancing down at Luca’s stilled hands. He didn't say anything about it. 

Luca shook his head. He didn’t think that he could talk about it without crying again. Call him selfish but he really didn’t have enough energy to have another panic attack. 

“Okay.” Eric whispered. He got to his feet and held out a hand to Luca, “Let’s go to bed."

“I’m not tired.” Luca quickly defended. Then he yawned.

Eric chuckled softly, “C’mon, Haasy.” 

Luca reluctantly let him pull him to his feet. When they got back into bed, Eric cuddled up behind him. He wrapped one arm tightly around Luca's waist, just how he liked it, and nuzzled his face into the back of Luca's neck. 

They laid like that for a little longer, Luca trying to relax with every steady breath that Eric took behind him. His brain grew quieter, his body more and more lethargic with every passing moment.

“Thank you.” He whispered into the silence of the room.

“Hmm?” Eric hummed into his skin, clearly a little closer to sleep than Luca was himself.

Luca chewed on his bottom lip, unsure where to take this line of thought. He felt like he needed to say more. He wanted to say more, so he did. 

“I’m so lucky to have you.”

Eric brushed his thumb across the stretch of exposed skin on Luca’s stomach. It was soothing, almost mesmerizing as Eric pressed a lazy kiss to the back of his neck.

“I’m lucky to have you.” He whispered back. 

No you're not, Luca thought. You would be better off without me.

But he didn't say that out loud. Instead he sunk a little further into the comfort of Eric's arms and stopped fighting off sleep.

Tomorrow's a new day.

Tomorrow he would prove to Eric that he was worth it.

Chapter End Notes

Okay I can practically feel the "poor Luca" comments from here so I will say that before anyone else can hahaha

Apologies for how long and messy and heavy and repetitive this chapter became, but I needed this to reach a bit of a breaking point and feel like a real panic attack! Hope it was worth the wait anyways? I've got some sweeter stuff planned so all will feel better soon, we just gotta sit in this for a bit <3

Also writing this felt oddly cathartic? I swear writing this fic in general has helped my own mental health so much and reading all of your lovely comments makes me smile! So please keep them coming if you have stuff you wanna say :)

Okay bye for now, gonna go write the next bit so that we don't sit in this sadness for too long lol

Chapter 32: I Can't Fake That For A Moment

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, March 2021

When Luca woke the next morning he felt like shit. His brain was fuzzy and his throat was scratchy. The muscles in his arms and legs had a dull ache to them and when he tried to sit up, it took more effort than usual. He rubbed away the dryness in his eyes and slipped his glasses up his nose before looking over at where Eric was still sleeping beside him.

He looked so peaceful. His plump lips were parted ever so slightly, a soft snore escaping him with every rise and fall of his chest. There were no worry lines etched in between his eyebrows, not like the night before, and his finger tips twitched with a thrum of electricity that Luca suspected could jolt his own body out of this sluggish fatigue if they touched him. He slid his hand a little closer to Eric's, just out of reach. He didn't want to accidentally wake him. Eric deserved to sleep in. The warmth emanating from the boy would have to do for now.

Luca just watched him for a bit. If he squinted it looked like Eric had a small smile on his face and he wondered what Eric might be dreaming about. Maybe about his grandparents back home; the wood shop Eric had spent so many summers in or the kitchen where he'd watch his grandmother bake. Maybe of the sunshine reflecting off of the Pacific Ocean or the way that the redwood trees danced in the wind. Maybe of an empty rink, the sound of his edges slicing through fresh ice. 

Maybe he was dreaming about Luca. No, he definitely wasn't dreaming about Luca. He had never given Eric the happiness that Eric deserved--the same happiness that Eric had brought to him in their short time of knowing one another. No, Luca had only brought pain; confusion, comparison, competition. Just another obstacle that Eric had to overcome. And he would, Eric always did.

Eric groaned which brought Luca out of his spiralling thoughts.

"Are you watching me sleep?" Eric asked, groggily. 

There was a lazy smirk painted across his lips even though his eyes were still shut. He rolled over so that he was now facing Luca and he ran his finger tips along the side of his thigh. Just as Luca had suspected, there was a jolt of electricity that set his skin on fire. 

Luca's cheeks flushed.

"What? No," He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the fresh goosebumps that had risen across his skin, "You're dreaming. Go back to sleep."

Eric hummed and let his hand fall down by his own face, curling into the blankets to get comfortable again. Within a few moments he was breathing steadily and Luca knew that he'd gone back to sleep. He sighed and forced himself out of bed, a familiar feeling of dread lurking deep in his chest as he went to go shower.

He went through the motions in a daze with each step taking more effort than usual. His brain was foggy, his limbs still sluggish but he tried to be patient with himself. At least he was showering. That was something to be proud of, he tried to reason with himself. Luca stood under the hot water for a long time, just trying to get some feeling back into his body that wasn't shame, guilt or the anticipatory anxiety waiting to wreak havoc on another day. The water soothed his sore muscles but it did little to ease his mind; the stupid dread-filled hole in his chest felt closer to the surface after the shower than it was when he first woke up. Still, he trudged on.

Luca didn't care if it was selfish, after his shower he had every intention of climbing right back into bed and cuddling Eric until he woke up again. He suspected that it might make him feel better and, besides, it was something that Eric had told him many times he loved; to be woken up to the fresh smell of Luca's body wash. He would always roll over and try to crawl into Luca’s skin, pressing his nose right to Luca's sternum and taking a dramatic inhale.

Luca was looking forward to that this morning but when he finally got out of the bathroom, the bed was empty. In Eric’s absence sat Eric Jr with his little dangly legs splayed across the smoothed out comforter. There were muffled voices coming from the kitchen. Luca felt a small flicker of hope in his chest.

Ilya was home.

With a renewed sense of urgency, he threw on a fresh pair of sweats as fast as he could and jogged down the stairs. When he got to the bottom, he froze. Coach Wiebe, Ilya, and Eric all turned to him cautiously, like they’d been caught. His stomach lurched. 

“Uh, good morning?” He said hesitantly, bending over to greet Anya when she came trotting over to him, completely oblivious to the tension in the room. When no one said anything, he added, “Coach, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

It was a dumb question but when no one in the room so much as cracked a smile, he felt especially stupid for saying it. He glanced hesitantly at Eric who averted his gaze down to the cup of coffee he was nursing. Ilya and Coach Wiebe were staring at him with similar expressions; concern, perhaps, but Luca didn’t want to think about it too hard, his brain was still waking up.

Clearly he’d missed a whole conversation. Luca suspected that he wasn’t supposed to be a part of it anyways.

“Okay well please keep me posted about that meeting,” Coach said quickly to Ilya, clapping him on the shoulder once. Then he nodded in acknowledgement of Luca and Eric in succession, “Haas, Young. I’ll see you both soon?”

Luca wasn’t quite sure what he was talking about but he didn’t question it. He just nodded, which seemed to appease Coach as he made his way over to the door. 

“Thanks Coach.” Ilya called after him. His accent was thick as if he was still testing out his voice. Coach Wiebe sent him a solemn smile in return. It did little to calm Luca’s suspicions that something was wrong. Well, besides the obvious.

“Young, do you need a ride?” He asked with one hand on the door handle.

“My car’s out front.” Eric gestured vaguely towards the front windows. 

“Ah, how could I forget? That car is worth more than my mortgage.” He chuckled to himself, pulling the door open.

“Oh come on, Coach, you make way more than me!” Eric quipped, lifting his mug in pseudo cheers, “We gotta get you out of that mom van.”

“Tell that to my wife and kids.” 

When Coach Wiebe finally left, Ilya and Eric shared a knowing look. Luca chose to ignore it as he made his way over to the kettle. 

“So, what was all that about?”

Luca tried to sound casual when he asked the question. He probably could’ve guessed the answer but having it out in the open would help to ease the butterflies in his stomach.

The room was silent for a moment. Ilya was still staring daggers at Eric, who was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, clearly trying to figure out what to do next. He placed his mug onto the counter clumsily. 

“I think I’m gonna head home.” He announced suddenly, devoid of any suaveness that Luca was used to.

Luca knitted his eyebrows together as Eric jogged out of the kitchen. He managed to get halfway up the stairs before Luca found his voice. 

“But you haven’t even had breakfast!” 

“You worry too much, Haasy.” Eric called back. 

There was a heaviness to his words that stayed with Luca long after Eric left. He watched Ilya cook breakfast for them in silence. It was just something quick, eggs and toast, seeing as they had a long travel day ahead of them. As he sipped on his tea, Luca had so many questions swirling around his brain; so many worries over the past 24 hours that he wanted to share with Ilya. Nothing surfaced. 

There was something about Ilya’s energy—maybe it was the tension in his shoulders or the way that his jaw was set in place—that made Luca think that his questions weren’t welcome. Luca hadn’t had this much difficulty reading Ilya’s cues since he first moved in. Back then, Luca was trying to carve out a small space in Ilya’s home without causing too much of a disturbance. Even then, when Luca still looked at him with a childlike reverence, Ilya did his best to welcome Luca into his fold. This energy was different; almost cold, closed-off in a way that had the anxious energy under Luca's skin humming. 

“It’s only 10am and it’s already been a long day.” Ilya finally spoke up, sliding a plate over to Luca. His accent bit down awkwardly on the words, something that Luca only knew to be true when Ilya had too much going on in his mind.

“Yeah, I imagine.” Luca exhaled.

He accepted the plate with a small smile and reluctantly bit into a piece of toast. There was so much butter spread across it, it almost made him gag. He refrained as Ilya watched him in silence.

“I am sorry for not answering your calls.” He said.

Luca shrugged, “It’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not,” Ilya fixed him with a look. Luca didn’t know what to say but his silence seemed to be loud enough for Ilya as he added, “We just needed some time alone to figure everything out but I know that was hard on you; on Yuna and David, too. That wasn’t fair.”

Ilya rounded the island and took the seat beside Luca. He slid his own plate towards him and took a careful sip of coffee.

“How are you feeling?” Ilya asked casually, shoveling some eggs into his mouth.

“How am I feeling?” Luca asked, confused.

“No, Anya,” Ilya said sarcastically before he glanced sideways at Luca, “Yes, you.”

“I think I should be asking you that, no?” Luca pointed out. Ilya cracked a smile.

“Well I would like to know how you are doing.” He retorted. 

Luca suddenly found his eggs quite interesting. He pushed them around his plate, trying to wrack his brain for an answer that would satisfy Ilya. He knew he couldn’t get away with lying to him and, honestly, he didn’t want to. He was just so exhausted. He let go of a shaky breath.

“It’s been a bit hard.” 

“Ah so that is what you call having a panic attack at 1am?”

“Of course Eric told you.” Luca grumbled.

He dropped his fork. There was no use in pretending to eat.

“Well yes, it would probably be bad if he didn’t.” Ilya pointed out, glancing down at the food that Luca had barely touched. When Luca didn’t say anything he pulled a phone out of his pocket and placed it on the counter between them. Luca didn't even have to look at it to know that it was his. 

Ilya sighed, “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

He tapped twice on the back of Luca's phone for emphasis.

Luca stared down at his cup of tea and traced the handle with his thumb. He thought back to the night before; the way that people were picking apart his life, his personality, his relationship like they knew every little thing. People had made him out to be the villain in Eric’s story, and he believed them…

“I downloaded social media again,” Luca started. Ilya turned to give him his full attention but Luca refused to look anywhere but at his plate, “I just wanted to know what people were saying. About you and Shane, I mean.”

He sounded hopeful when he put it like that. He hoped that Ilya believed him; that his intentions were really just to see how people were responding to all of it, to understand what they were up against. He needed to know what he had to protect Ilya from. Luca left that last part unsaid, knowing that Ilya would never want him to step into that role; even though he’d probably done it for Luca more times than he even realized.

“I knew I’d see some stuff about me and Eric, I’m not stupid,” He explained with a frustrated sigh, trying to choke back the emotion that was creeping up his throat. The more he talked, the harder it became to hide, but he pushed on, “I guess I just thought it would all be positive? Just people excited about the idea of us? I don’t know, maybe that was naive.”

His vision grew blurry at the memory of some of the things he saw; the hate comments, the video compilations. A single tear fell down his cheek and he hid his face in his hands. He shouldn't be crying. Not here, not now.

Ilya was the one who was supposed to be struggling, not Luca. He was supposed to be comforting Ilya, he was supposed to be strong. Maybe the people online were right about him—he was so selfish.

“Oh, Mitshuka. Come here.” Ilya cooed, wrapping an arm around Luca protectively and pulling him into his chest.

Luca let himself be pulled, his whole weight falling against Ilya’s body. He didn't put up a fight, just let more tears fall. Ilya held him through it all, rocking them back and forth gently, whispering to Luca in Russian. He couldn't understand what Ilya was saying but it was so soft, so reassuring. More than anything else, it felt safe. Luca was still getting used to that feeling.

He was too scared to show emotions as a kid. It was the thing his father picked at him for the most. Being sensitive was a bad thing; it made him weak, unmanly, far from the son that his father had raised. His father's criticisms still lingered somewhere in the back of Luca's mind. He wondered when his emotions would become too much for Ilya too. At what point would it become a burden? When would Ilya tell him to man up? To act like the tough, second overall draft pick that he was supposed to be? Hockey players didn’t cry, they didn’t show emotions. They persevered. 

The only thing getting him through the embarrassment of crying into Ilya’s chest was the fact that Ilya let him. He had yet to give up on him. It gave Luca the flicker of courage he needed to be honest. To finally open up about his fears.

“I just want to be good enough for him.” Luca admitted weakly.

Ilya froze under the weight of him. He immediately pulled away from Luca with such force that it made Luca's heart drop.

Maybe that was it. That was too far.

Luca rubbed at his cheeks. He shouldn’t be crying. 

“Luca, look at me.” Ilya said firmly. 

Luca flinched away from him. The words—the commanding tone—struck a nerve in his brain. He tried his best to suck back the rest of the tears that threatened to spill over as he hesitantly met Ilya’s eyes. When he did, Ilya looked hurt. His lips were parted slightly, clearly confused as he assessed Luca’s reaction.

He slowly reached out and placed both hands on Luca’s shoulders. He gently pushed them down from where they had instinctively risen up near his ears. Luca melted into the touch. It was calming. It felt safe. Ilya was safe, Luca had to remind himself. 

“Never, ever say that. You are so special, Mitshuka, you do not need to be good enough for anybody. You are good enough already.” He insisted, his tone still firm but gentler this time.

“But the people online—”

“I do not care what the people online say. They are vultures,” Ilya spat the words out before Luca could even finish his sentence. Luca sniffled, nodding to himself as he tried his hardest to take Ilya’s words at face value. Ilya's resolve softened as he continued, “What you and Eric have is special, like two beans in a pod.”

The corner of Luca’s mouth betrayed him, pulling up into a small smile.

“It’s two peas in a pod, Ilyusha.” Luca corrected.

“Ah yes, I meant that. Two peas in a pod,” Ilya waved it off casually before continuing, more seriously, “People can be so cruel. None of it is true. None of it.”

Luca sniffled, still thinking about some of the comments. He wondered how Ilya could be so sure if he'd never seen any of them.

“I don’t know.” He said, unconvinced. 

Ilya studied the boy then, his eyes darting back and forth between Luca's own, like he was trying to decipher what exactly was going on in Luca's brain. Maybe he was wondering just how much Luca could handle; so far, not very much. The intensity of Ilya's stare was too much for Luca to handle so he let his eyes wander over Ilya’s shoulder, out the back windows. It was a gloomy day outside, the sky its usual grey that Luca had become so familiar with. It was still winter in Ottawa. Luca wondered if the springtime was brighter, bluer. 

“You remember what I told you back in November?” Ilya’s words brought Luca back into the moment. When he shook his head weakly, Ilya continued, “Do not let what other people think—not me or the guys or the media, and definitely not the fucking idiots on the internet—determine your life. You will only drive yourself crazy.”

Luca could only bring himself to nod once. He couldn’t trust his voice, not yet at least. It wouldn’t hide the anxiety that was rising in his chest and he really didn’t want to make Ilya worry anymore than the crease between his eyebrows suggested he was.

“I think I need to delete the apps again.” Luca swiveled his chair back to face the island again. He grabbed his phone and tried to ignore the stack of notifications that were waiting for him as he unlocked it.

“I think this is a good idea. We do not need you distracted for playoffs,” Ilya confirmed, bringing a lightness back into the conversation. Only when he watched Luca delete them all did he stand up, “Now, do I need to call Coach? Do we need to have a team meeting so that everyone can tell you how great you are?”

Luca blushed at the suggestion. Ilya grinned at him as he rounded the island to start cleaning up. 

“No, no. We won’t have time before our flight,” Luca joked. Even with his back turned, Luca noticed a shift in Ilya’s energy. He was tense again, almost like he was deliberating something. Luca cocked his head to the side, “Is everything okay?”

“Hmm?” Ilya hummed, standing a little straighter as he rinsed his mug out.

“You just seem, I don’t know, off?”

It was a stupid observation, of course Ilya was off. His whole world had been turned upside down in the past 24 hours and now Ilya had spent the whole morning putting Luca back together.

He pushed aside the small voice in the back of his head that kept calling him selfish. Ilya wouldn’t agree, he tried to remind himself.

Ilya turned the sink off and leaned against the counter. His shoulders rounded out in a way that Luca knew meant nothing good was about to come out of his mouth. He took a deep breath.

“I am being benched.” 

“What? Why?” Luca floundered. Ilya turned around slowly, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed.

“The Commissioner wants Shane and I to wait until all of this blows over.” Ilya supplied. Luca laughed bitterly.

“Are you fucking kidding me? First he suspends me for fighting a homophobe and now he’s benching you guys for being gay?” 

“Bisexual, but yes.”

Luca glared at him. Ilya rose two hands in surrender before he pointed down at Luca’s plate. He hadn’t eaten much but Luca shook his head, letting Ilya know that it was okay to clear away. Ilya hesitantly took it, turning to scrape the remaining food in the compost bin. 

The anxious butterflies multiplied in Luca’s stomach. It was too ridiculous to be true. The two best players in the whole league, benched? Because of something as stupid as people finding out they were together? If Roger Crowell could do that to them, then Luca only wondered what would happen to him in the event that he and Eric—

“Listen to me, Luca,” Ilya waited until Luca met his gaze before continuing, “Everything is going to be okay. Me, Shane, we are going to be okay. We are okay. I just need you to focus on playoffs, okay? We only have a couple more weeks, I need you to hold the fort for me.”

Ilya’s confidence was borderline inappropriate given the circumstances. Luca wanted to believe him but the nagging voice in his brain, the one that he really had to put a name to if he was going to keep popping up like this, doubted him. They only had two weeks to solidify their spot in the playoffs. How the hell were they going to do that without Ilya? They had some challenging games coming up, they needed him. Luca needed him.

He looked back down at his mug, still tracing the handle with precision. The repetitive motion did little to ease his nerves. 

“I need you to take care of yourself so that you can take care of the team while I am away.” Ilya said gently.

Luca rolled his eyes, “You and I both know that Bood will step up.”

“Yes but someone is going to have to fill my spot on the first line,” Ilya said knowingly, “And he is going to need to lean on you.”

Luca swallowed any smart reply he could’ve come up with and simply nodded. Ilya was right. Luca needed to focus; on his team, on their playoff run, on Eric. It was the least he could do in light of everything going on. He needed to be brave.

“Okay.” Luca agreed, weakly. Ilya looked at him for a moment, assessing whether or not he needed to say more. He nodded once. 

“Okay.” Ilya agreed.

Luca closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing; in for four counts, then out for four counts, just as Eric had done with him. They stayed like that for a little while longer, Ilya busying himself with the dishes and Luca patiently waiting for the anxiety in his gut to subside. Eventually, Luca sighed and got up. He placed his mug in the dishwasher and made his way over to the stairs to finish packing for their road trip. 

///

“Thanks for coming, everyone.” Coach Wiebe started from the front of the room. 

They were in the film room where they usually reviewed tape. Unlike their usual team meetings in this room, there was anxious energy floating above their heads. Their luggage was tucked around the perimeter of the room making it feel much smaller than it actually was and the guys had fallen into an unnerving silence that had a swirl of thoughts doing laps around Luca’s brain. 

As soon as he had walked in, he was bombarded with questions from the guys. Eric had saddled right up next to him, staying close as they all asked how Ilya was doing. Some of the questions, mainly those from Troy and Bood, were thinly veiled to ask about how he was coping with everything. It was almost amusing the way that they tried to pretend like they didn’t know about Luca’s meltdown the night before. Harris, on the other hand, didn’t even hesitate to pull Luca into a hug.

“We can go talk in my office after this if you want?” He whispered to Luca when he pulled away. 

“I’m okay, I promise.” He whispered back.

Luca had every intention of plastering a fake smile on his face and giving placating answers to everyone but the genuine concern that they all showed him gently plucked at the nervous butterflies in his stomach. It made him feel like maybe he didn’t need to muster through this alone. Maybe he could be honest about how he was feeling.

“I’m sure you all know why we are here so I will make this short,” Coach sighed, leaning back against the table for support, “The Commissioner has benched both Roz and Hollander for the foreseeable future.”

There were a series of protests from all around the room. The sudden noise made Luca flinch and he shuffled a bit in his seat, trying to get comfortable. It was no use. He was angry; at Crowell for making that decision, at Brad for sharing that video online, even a little bit at Hayden Pike. It brought him a sense of comfort to hear the guys' adverse reactions to the news, to know that he wasn't alone in his anger. 

“Alright, alright. Settle down,” Coach Wiebe held one tired hand up to silence them. The guys hesitantly obliged, just a few lingering grumbles sounding around the room, “I want to make it abundantly clear that neither myself nor management agree with this decision. I have talked with Roz and now I am sharing with all of you that he has our full support. Point, blank, period. If anyone has a problem with that, well…”

Coach Wiebe didn’t even have to finish his sentence before the guys spoke up.

“No one in this room has a problem, Coach.” Bood said confidently from the back row. A few of the guys around him agreed.

“Roz is our captain.” Troy added, like that statement alone held enough weight to explain itself.

“He has our full support.” Chouinard concluded.

With each new person that spoke up, Luca’s chest swelled with pride. He had no reason to believe that his teammates would be anything but supportive of Ilya—even if Ilya had been living a double life the whole time he’d been with the Centaurs—but still, to hear it out loud meant so much to him. He only hoped that Shane had the same support in Montreal. 

“Management is doing everything in their power to convince the Commissioner that this is a stupid ruling. In the meantime, we need to keep our heads down and focus,” Coach Wiebe insisted, “It’s what Roz wants. He wants us to win and we’re not going to let him down.”

Luca zoned out when Coach Wiebe started explaining some of the logistics for their upcoming games. He was pretty sure that Bood was announced as the temporary captain, there was something about limited press, and how they would be reconfiguring their lines but he couldn’t be sure. Luca wasn’t even aware that his leg was bouncing until Eric reached over and placed a hand over his knee. Luca glanced down at it.

Eric brushed this thumb against the outside of his leg, reminding Luca that everything was okay. 

He was fine. He was going to be brave. 

His leg steadied under the weight of Eric’s hand but even so, he didn’t remove it. Luca was silently grateful for that.

“Does anyone else have anything they want to get off their chest before we go?” Coach Wiebe’s final words brought Luca to attention again. 

Luca was probably being neurotic but it felt like he had 30 pairs of eyes on him at that moment. He didn’t dare turn around to confirm it though, not even when Coach Wiebe’s own gaze landed on him, then over to Eric, then to Eric’s hand. He was waiting, letting the room sit in a contemplative silence for a moment, just in case one of them wanted to say something. 

Luca thought back to the posts from the night before; the insinuation that he wasn’t proud of Eric, that he always put himself first. It made him sick just thinking about all of the clips where Eric looked so sad; when his shoulders would deflate or his eyes would glaze over. 

A warmth crawled up Luca's sternum and his heart hammered a little harder behind his ribcage. Before he could even think it through he had grabbed Eric’s hand and laced their fingers together. 

That simple act elicited a sharp inhale from Eric. His eyes widened as he looked over at Luca. Luca just smiled back at him and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. The childlike joy that flashed across Eric’s face made it all worth it and suddenly the anxious energy in the air dissipated.

When Luca looked back to the front of the room, Coach Wiebe had a proud smile on his face. He nodded once at them which Luca returned and then someone exclaimed an exasperated, “Finally!” from behind them. Wyatt leaned forward and shook both of their shoulders, causing them to giggle as the room broke out into a building applause. 

When Luca finally glanced behind him, the guys were all smiling at them; some of them wide and goofy, others just proud. The older guys at the back of the room were giving them a standing ovation, initiated by Bood who put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. In the corner of the room, Harris wiped at the corner of his eye—they were happy tears, Luca hoped—and all of it made Luca smile bigger.

His cheeks flushed a deep red when Troy and Dykstra started to chant, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” 

“Alright! Alright!” Eric warned them off with a pointed glare, clearly sensing Luca’s nerves. He squeezed Luca’s hand and leaned in to whisper, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

“I, uh—”

Before Luca could explain the new wave of nerves that had crashed over him, Eric already seemed to read his mind. He pulled the side of his sweater up so that it covered their faces and gave Luca a quick peck behind it, blocking them from most of the guy's prying eyes. That only resulted in a few boos but Luca didn’t care. He smiled over at Eric appreciatively, his face a whole new level of warmth as they turned back to face the front of the room.

“Okay, okay!” Coach Wiebe clapped his hands a few times to settle the guys. He chuckled to himself as Dykstra threw a protein bar he was snacking on at the back of Eric’s head, “We have a plane to catch. And we’re going to win, for Roz!”

“For Roz!” The guys all chanted around the room.

///

Luca was really looking forward to an uneventful plane ride to Calgary. He just wanted to draw, maybe listen to some music and relax, but of course that’s not what ended up happening. Once they were in the air and Holmberg got through an embarrassing story about his first kiss to settle everyone's airplane nerves, Luca settled into his seat with his sketchbook. Just as his pencil hit the page, LaPointe popped up from the row in front of them. He leaned over the back of the seat and stared between the two of them carefully.

“Pointer, didn’t your mom ever tell you it was rude to stare?” Eric sighed after a few moments of awkward silence. He put his headphones around his neck and looked up at LaPointe who had narrowed his eyes as he looked between them. Luca could practically see the thoughts forming as they popped up in LaPointe’s mind; clearly his brain was working overtime. 

“So are we all just going to brush past what happened in the team meeting?” He retorted sarcastically.

“What happened at the team meeting?” Eric asked innocently. 

Both his tone and smile were sickeningly sweet, which only made LaPointe’s eyes bug out of his head. He vaguely waved his hands around as he stuttered over his own words, clearly frazzled by the exciting conclusion to their emergency team meeting. Eric just chuckled at him.

“Eric.” Luca said in a warning tone. 

He tucked his pencil into his sketchbook and folded it over in his lap, intending to give LaPointe his full attention. When he met Eric’s gaze though he couldn't help it, he started giggling. So did Eric.

“Okay you guys are going to need to explain yourselves because I’m really confused.” LaPointe insisted.

“What exactly are you confused about, Pointer?” Eric continued, still chuckling.

“You guys kissed! In the team meeting! And everyone seemed to be expecting it?” LaPointe exclaimed dramatically, spelling out the obvious for Eric who continued to feign innocence around the topic.

“We did,” Eric sighed contently. His head fell back against the headrest, eyes fluttering shut, like he was still thinking about it, “I would’ve done much more had Haasy let me.” 

“Eric!” Luca’s cheeks flushed as he jokingly hit Eric’s arm.

LaPointe's brain was still catching up to what was happening in real-time. He was a great hockey player but sometimes he was as dumb as nails. Luca loved him for it anyways.

“But, you guys—you’re best friends?” LaPointe floundered. 

“The best of friends.” Eric winked over at Luca who just rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t worry, Pointer, you’re also our best friend.” Luca said warmly, reaching up to pat his arm. LaPointe’s face went slack, eyes darting all over the place as he tried to piece things together. They sat in silence waiting for him to collect himself.

“I thought…” The words died on his tongue before he could finish his sentence.

“You think?” Eric joked, clearly enjoying all of this. Luca slapped his arm a bit harder this time and Eric winced.

“I just thought you guys were super close, like maybe you had more in common with one another than with me,” LaPointe admitted shyly as he averted his eyes to his hands. Luca’s heart melted, “But it wasn’t me. It was you. It was this.” He gestured between them, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to make sense of their relationship.

“Aw Pointer. No it was never you,” Luca frowned at the idea of having made his friend feel left out or like a third wheel, “I’m sorry that we made you feel that way.”

Eric nodded in agreement, serious this time. 

“That was never our intention. We just sort of…clicked.” Eric smiled fondly over at Luca. He smiled back.

LaPointe nodded to himself, “So, how long have you been, uh, this?”

Eric chuckled nervously while Luca scratched the back of his neck. They’d never actually defined their relationship or asked one another to be boyfriends. They just got together after the plane crash and never questioned it. Luca figured that he could call Eric his boyfriend and that everything would be fine but something about that label felt special. He didn’t want to jump the gun on something like that. Before he could answer, Eric was already speaking.

“January. Right after the plane crash.”

“Jesus Christ.” LaPointe breathed out, “You’ve been keeping this a secret for two months?”

Luca chuckled, “Not from everyone. A handful of people knew.”

“Bood, Troy, Harris, Ilya.” Eric listed them off easily, “Oh and Sophia!”

Luca smiled at that. He looked forward to the day when they could meet one another properly, this time without the awkward tension and jealousy that Luca so poorly hid back in December. Oh how far they’ve come… 

“Wow.” LaPointe exhaled, still in a sort of daze, “This is crazy. My two best friends, fucking.”

Eric and Luca laughed but they weren’t alone. Some of the guys, who had clearly been listening in from the rows around them, also chuckled at LaPointe. Luca ignored the way his cheeks flamed in favour of how amusing this whole conversation was. He was surprised they even hid it from LaPointe for this long considering he’d had a front row seat to their dynamic for so long. 

“Can I just say that I’m so glad the guys know now.” Troy said from a few rows ahead of them, “This was a tough secret to hold onto.”

“Secret?” Wyatt chuckled dryly from another row, “This has been the worst kept secret ever. Have you guys seen the way they look at each other? Heck, they’ve been caught cuddling on every bus ride and plane trip since January!”

Luca blushed an entirely new shade of red. Eric beamed over at him.

“Well, you fooled me.” LaPointe chuckled breathlessly.

“That’s not too hard now is it, Pointer?” Dykstra joked. LaPointe flipped him off while the guys just laughed. 

“I just thought they were really close!” LaPointe defended himself as the laughter continued.

“We are really close.” Eric smirked over at Luca. He rolled his eyes at him again.

“But we’re also close with you.” Luca said warmly, not wanting to leave LaPointe out anymore than they already had. He still felt bad about that.

“Better be careful, LaPointe, you might get wrapped up in whatever it is they’ve got going on.” Bood wiggled his fingers at the rookie, like their queerness was somehow contagious. Troy snickered at LaPointe who was shaking his head furiously, eyes wide.

“Absolutely not! I’m not gay,” He said quickly before he caught himself. His eyes widened as he looked between Troy, Luca and Eric, who had all gone quiet. Luca’s heart clenched for a moment, almost like the weight of previous locker rooms and the homophobia that was seamlessly interwoven with their sport was resting on his chest again. LaPointe quickly added, “Sorry, not that there’s anything wrong with being gay. It’s great, fantastic even! I am so supportive of you guys all being gay together. Well, not together. Troy isn’t gay with you guys, just—you know what? I’m going to stop talking.”

“Good idea.” Eric snorted. The rest of the guys just laughed at him. 

Everything was okay. They were okay. The whole world had tilted on its axis and yet they survived it. 

Luca took that as a win, pulling out his sketchbook again. He didn't even get a few minutes of doodling in before he fell asleep on Eric's shoulder.

Chapter End Notes

Woop, woop! New chapter!

Hope this hurt/comfort felt as healing to read as it did to write :)

Hopefully we get some more Ilya POV in the upcoming chapters -- I've been having a bit of difficulty interweaving his POV lately without just completely re-writing Rachel Reid's writing from TLG. But I've got some ideas to bring him back in so stay tuned!

ALSO, I maybe sorta have started writing chapters for a sequel? Am I crazy? Would you guys want that?

Chapter 33: The Waiting Game

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, March 2021

Ilya had never been benched before. Not for an injury, not for sickness, not even when his mother died. If he could get to the rink and lace up his skates then he was getting on the ice. No one could stop him.

Roger Crowell was the first person to stop him and Ilya hated him for it.

On the day that the Centaurs would play their first game without him, Ilya tried to keep himself distracted. He woke up to Anya licking his face and whining to be let outside. Only when she resisted his morning cuddles did he finally get up and take her for a walk. He walked at a leisurely pace all around the neighbourhood, letting Anya sniff whatever she wanted or greet the squirrels with a bark that really had no bite to it. 

As much as he tried to get lost in his playlist, his mind wandered. Ilya had been handling everything fairly well since being outed. He was tentatively at peace with the whole thing, ready to take whatever next steps they needed to get through this. It was the people around him—Shane and Luca, mainly—that had been struggling. Ilya was grateful that he could keep a level head through it all and help them through it, but this whole being benched thing? That’s where he drew the line. 

When they rounded the corner back towards the house, Ilya stopped in his tracks. On his neighbour’s tree—the neighbour’s with the young kids that sometimes wished Ilya and Luca good luck on their drive to home games—there was a poster. It read “We love you, Ilya!” and on the little shelf below it sat two funko pops, one of Shane and one of Ilya. He quickly shrugged his phone out of his pocket, nearly dropping it when Anya tried to jerk him towards a bird nearby, and snapped a quick photo.

“Okay, Anya. Jeez.” He chuckled to himself as he let her pull them towards where the bird was now flying away. She was still determined to get to it, just in case it changed its mind and wanted to say hello to her too.

He opened up his texts with Shane. The last message, the one from last night that first alerted him that things hadn’t gone great with the Voyageurs, made his heart hurt.

Shane: I ate a snickers bar

The sadness he felt in that moment gave him the extra courage he needed to send the photo. 

Ilya: *attached photo*

Ilya: We are not so alone, I don’t think

He smiled to himself as he opened his other messages. There were so many he’d missed from Luca when he facetimed Shane last night.

Luca: So I came out to the guys…

Luca: It went well I think

Luca: Hey, how’s it going?

Luca: Sorry, that was a dumb question

Luca: We just got to the hotel

Luca: I think LaPointe got your room, he’s stoked about it

Luca: Sorry, obviously none of us are stoked that you’re not here

Luca: Ilyusha?

Luca: Okay goodnight, please let me know if you want to talk

Luca: Morning! Just headed to team breakfast but text me if you need anything

Ilya smirked to himself before typing out his own response.

Ilya: Good morning

Ilya: I think you and Shane should have competition for who is most anxious person, yes?

Ilya: Would be very close race

Luca’s response was almost immediate.

Luca: 😠

Ilya: Now you make same faces

Ilya: Are you sure you’re not related?

 

Luca: Ilyusha

Ilya: Fine, yes sorry

Ilya: I am happy you came out to the team

Ilya: Sad I couldn't be there for it

Ilya: And I am okay, driving to Montreal soon

Luca: Drive safe

The three typing bubbles came and went for the rest of Ilya’s walk back home. Finally, a message came through.

Luca: I miss you

Luca: Please text me if you want to talk🫶🫶

Ilya smiled to himself.

Ilya: I will, Mitshuka

Ilya: Go focus on your game, score a hat trick for me

And then, after a moment, because it was true…

Ilya: I miss you too

///

“Are you nervous for tomorrow?” Shane asked later that evening, when they were curled up on the couch watching the Centaurs game.

Ilya was lying with his head in Shane’s lap. He was raking his fingers through Ilya's curls carefully, lulling him into a sense of comfort that Ilya had been fighting for all day. It helped that the Centaurs were winning by a wider margin but still, he sighed.

“Maybe. Just a little.” He admitted. There was no use in lying; if Shane was asking the question then it meant that he already knew the answer. 

Tomorrow morning they were set to meet with Roger Crowell at the MLH offices in Montreal. He requested to meet them soon after Hayden’s stupid video went viral and when Roger Crowell requested a meeting with you, it was never for something good. The last time Shane had met with him, well, it hadn’t gone great. That was back in November when he first caught wind that Shane might be homosexual, as he so eloquently phrased it. He told Shane that he didn’t want him to come out publicly, that it was no one’s business; those sorts of things were best left as they were supposed to be, private. Behind closed doors, as they had been for over a decade. Being gay wasn't supposed to take attention away from the game. It would be a distraction, if Ilya remembered Shane's retelling correctly.

Ilya thought it was all bullshit and he had half a mind to tell the Commissioner that the next morning. Well, if it weren’t for the tiny, little detail that Roger Crowell had the power to completely destroy their careers if he so wished. That’s if Hayden's FanMail video hadn’t done so already which Ilya wasn’t so sure of. He hadn't been on social media since it all blew up in their faces. It was no use.

Shane pushed Ilya's hair back from his forehead again, pulling Ilya out of his thoughts. The motion was so calming it made him yawn. 

“Stop, I need to stay awake. Look, Luca is about to get another goal.” He pointed at the screen but made no effort to move out of Shane’s lap. Shane’s fingers stilled as they both turned their attention to the screen.

“Go, go, go,” Shane leaned forward slightly as he tracked Luca on the breakaway, “Yes, yes, go Luca, yes!”

Shane cheered as Luca managed to score his third goal of the game, putting the Centaurs up 4-1. Only when Shane settled back in his seat did Ilya grin up at him.

“You are like a proud dad.” He commented, reaching up to lace their fingers together. He kissed the back of Shane’s knuckles, one at a time.

“Shut up.” Shane grumbled, still watching the screen with a small smile on his face.

Luca was smiling wide as his teammates surrounded him. When the camera panned out, a shower of caps had been thrown on the ice. There weren’t nearly as many as if it were a Calgary player who had managed the hat trick but enough to show Luca the respect he deserved. Ilya felt a swell of pride rise in his chest as he watched the group dissipate from around Luca, just leaving Eric nudging Luca in the ribs repeatedly as he swatted his hands away. The two of them had the biggest smiles on their faces as they skated back over to the bench. 

“They’re playing like they have something to prove.” Shane commented after they watched a slow-motion replay of the breakaway goal. 

“Maybe they do.” Ilya mumbled. Shane rubbed his thumb across the back of his hand.

They watched the game in silence for a little longer. Only when they were nearing the end of the third period and the fourth line was playing keep away with the puck to kill time, did he speak up again.

“You know, if we were on the same team we could do that.” He nodded at the screen. 

Both Eric and Luca had played an incredible game; Luca with his first ever hat trick, Eric with two assists and a goal of his own. Eric really stepped up in his responsibility to play center for the first line with Troy and Luca. They had a bit of a shaky start where they had given up a goal in the first shift but once they fell into a rhythm with one another, Eric seemed to come to life. 

Shane hummed noncommittally. It wasn’t the first time they’d talked about Shane joining the Centaurs but now it felt different. 

The first practice back for the Voyageurs after the video came out was rough for Shane. He had every intention of talking about it with his teammates, explaining to them what the situation was and fielding any questions they had for him. It went south pretty quickly; his teammates called him a traitor, his coach had kicked him out of practice. The only person on his side was Hayden and even he didn't have the sort of pull to get the guys to see Shane as the same man who had led them to three cups. They only saw him as Ilya's boyfriend, a title that dripped with malice and disgust.

It killed Ilya to see Shane so distraught over it all. And it pissed him off in equal measure. They didn't deserve Shane, not in the slightest, and it made the possibility of Shane signing with the Centaurs all the more realistic. Like a possibility that was just out of reach. Ilya wanted to grasp onto that idea with both hands and clutch it so close to his chest that it had no chance of flying away, but he would never force that on Shane. No matter how badly he wanted it. It had to be mutual. If the Voyageurs kept up the way they were though, then maybe—

“It’s getting late, we should head to bed. Early morning…” Shane’s words trailed off. He gently lifted Ilya’s head out of his lap and quickly collected their empty plates from the table before walking over to the kitchen. Ilya watched him go with a sigh, sitting up straighter so that he could catch the post-game interviews before bed.

///

The locker room was a swell of noise after their win. Luca could feel hands on him from every direction; some ruffling his hair, others clapping him on the back as he made his way over to his stall. Eric was right behind him the whole way, excitedly chattering about Luca's game like Luca hadn't been there to play it himself.

"And then you did that 360 pass? Fucking insane!" Eric grabbed onto both of his shoulders and shook him as they finally reached their stalls. Luca's ears were still ringing from the adrenaline rush, he barely heard Eric exclaim to the whole room, "That's my man!" 

Then Eric dropped his gloves and stick before pulling Luca into a big hug. Luca's face flushed a very deep red as whistles and joking remarks sounded behind him. It only got worse when Eric smacked an obnoxious kiss on his cheek.

“I think I should be the one bragging tonight, no?” Luca chuckled as he pulled away from Eric’s embrace, "You skated out onto the ice like you owned the place, won the first puck drop, got two assists and a goal of your own, and made it all look so effortless. I mean, come on!" 

Luca tried to project his voice just as loud as Eric's so that the other guys could hear him. They all responded in kind with their own cheers which made Eric smile bashfully at them. 

“Fine, we can both brag.” Eric compromised. Luca accepted that as he started to take off his jersey.

“Drinks tonight?” Dykstra called out to no one in particular.

Luca really did not want to go out. All he wanted was to go back to the hotel room and cuddle with Eric, but when he glanced over at him, he was already listing off some bars near the hotel that he’d found earlier. Luca supposed that he could handle one night out with the guys if it made Eric happy. 

“Only if these two don’t have other celebratory plans.” LaPointe smirked. He threw an arm around Eric and slapped Luca with his towel. A couple of the guys laughed before Coach Wiebe walked in behind them.

“Don’t be gross, LaPointe,” He smacked a roll of papers on the top of LaPointe’s head, “Besides, no one is going out when Roz sitting back home drawing up plays for our next practice."

The room deflated for only a moment before everyone quickly agreed; it wasn't appropriate given the climate they were in. Dykstra was already planning a celebratory night-in for the team when Coach Wiebe turned towards the rookies.

"For post-game media they want the both of you," Coach Wiebe gestured between Luca and Eric, "But only if you’re comfortable with it.”

Luca looked at Eric with wide eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time they did media together but he could venture a guess as to how it would go now. Eric seemed to have the same thoughts as he stared back at Luca with a worried expression. 

Coach Wiebe quickly picked up on his silent exchange so he added, “How about this? We can send you with, say, Bood? Bood, you okay to mediate?”

Luca liked the sound of that a whole lot more. Bood had no troubles shutting down prying reporters if he needed to.

The three of them turned to where Bood was peeling off his gear across the room. 

“Sir yes sir.” He did a mock salute which made Coach Wiebe crack a smile.

“Okay, great. Bood will handle any funny business but if something makes you uncomfortable, come and tell me right away. I'll handle it behind the scenes.” He fixed them with a pointed look and with one final clap on Eric's shoulder, he left the room again. Eric turned to Luca hesitantly.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Eric asked. He ran a nervous hand through his hair to tame the helmet hair that he was rocking. 

Eric knew how much Luca disliked this side of the job and on any other occasion Luca would’ve happily let him do this interview with Bood alone. A small voice in the back of his brain refused this time, though. He had other plans in mind. Luca mustered up the most confident smile as he smoothed out a stray hair that was sticking up at the back of Eric's head.

“Of course, it’s going to be fine. And Bood will protect us, won’t you Bood?” He turned to their vet as he walked over to join them.

“I like to think I’ve been doing that for months now. What’s one more interview?” He said cheekily, nudging Eric in the ribs until he cracked a smile. He didn't seem entirely convinced but he agreed anyway.

They followed Bood out of the door and Luca gave Eric’s waist a final reassuring squeeze just before they rounded the corner. Luca would be lying if he said that his heart wasn’t pounding out of his chest. This was the first interview they’d done since Ilya’s outing, and the first interview he’d done with Eric in god knows how long. He was hyper aware of the way that the reporters stared at them like a pack of hungry wolves as they approached; their cameras were already recording, microphones all pointed in the small space that the three players were to stand.

Luca greeted the reporters with a polite smile, hopeful that they might go easy on him if he showed them a kindness in return. Bood, on the other hand, didn’t care. He made sure to situate himself between the two rookies, his tattooed arms crossed over his chest as he towered over many of the reporters standing in front of them. If Luca were in their shoes, he would be terrified; but he knew Bood, and he wasn’t a scary guy. He was protective and fiercely loyal but not scary. Luca was happy to have him there as he took a deep breath and braced for the first question.

“Great game out there tonight, guys. Luca, congratulations on your first ever hat trick. How are you feeling?”

All attention turned to him. Luca cleared his throat and leaned a little closer to the microphones with a small smile.

“I’m feeling super grateful, so happy to be here. I can’t take too much of the credit, if it weren’t for my linemates—for Eric, specifically—then I wouldn’t have had the game that I had. I owe it all to him.” He said earnestly.

He chanced a look over in Eric’s direction. Eric had a small smile on his face as he shook his head.

“That was all you, Haasy.” He insisted.

Luca wanted to object but another reporter stepped in.

“Obviously we are missing Ilya Rozanov tonight. Eric, what was it like stepping into his shoes on the first line and trying to fill the big space that he left?”

Luca wasn’t sure how to feel about the phrasing of that question but he let it slide as Eric took a step closer to the microphones.

“Yeah, it was definitely big shoes to fill tonight and we all missed Rozy out there. I just played my best and tried to make him proud.” He said quickly, his natural charm seeping through both his words and the dimples that pierced his smile.

“You definitely made him proud.” Luca said instinctively. Both the reporters and his peers seemed to be caught off-guard by the commentary and Eric, who looked at Luca quizzically, couldn’t help the small grin that came to his face at the admission. Luca bit the inside of his cheek to tame his own smile.

“And Eric, playing on the first line with Luca, specifically, what was that like?”

Eric pulled his attention away from Luca and turned to face the reporter on his side.

“It’s always a pleasure getting to play on the ice with Luca. It's just so easy, y’know? He makes everyone around him better. He makes my job so much easier.” Eric insisted.

“Hey, not too much now. It’s not like your usual right winger is standing right here or anything.” Bood joked between them. Luca could tell by the way he glanced sideways at Luca that there was a warning there; something to try and subtly brush over the very obvious way they were flirting with one another. Luca ignored it. This was his chance to tell everyone just how amazing Eric was and he was going to take it.

“You know I love you, Bood.” Eric clapped a hand on Bood’s shoulder as Bood just rolled his eyes. The reporters around them all chuckled.

“Luca, you are leading the rookies across the league for most goals scored this season, with your closest competition trailing 14 points behind after tonight’s performance. Can you talk a bit about that?”

“I try not to think too much about my personal statistics. What really matters to me are the people I’m playing with, my teammates. After tonight I believe Eric is leading all rookies in total assists, right?” He looked around the crowd of reporters for someone to corroborate. No one did. He forced a fake smile on his face to mask his annoyance at them, “I am only as good as the guys around me and that’s what we’re going to be celebrating tonight.”

Luca had never been so grateful for Eric’s ability to remain calm and composed under pressure until now. Only his eyes danced with a sort of electricity as they raked over Luca’s face. Luca had to force himself to look anywhere other than at Eric for fear of giving himself away. Between them, Bood was clearly amused by their ping pong game of compliments. He stifled a smile behind his hand as the next reporter asked their question. 

The rest of the interview went just like that; the reporters focusing most of their questions on Luca and him finding a way to bring Eric’s name into every answer in a way that was somewhat inconspicuous. Why was he so successful tonight? Eric was feeding him good passes. How did he stay so calm without Ilya there by his side? He had Eric instead. 

He wondered just how much he could say Eric’s name before it was too much, before one of the reporters took things a step too far and started to ask thinly veiled questions about the nature of their relationship. Luca suspected that they would try if it weren’t for Bood standing there between them like their personal security guard. With every answer he gave, Luca felt more and more at ease. He liked bragging about Eric and now that the flood gates had opened, he figured he might have a hard time shutting them again. 

“You seem to really admire him.” One reporter acknowledged after a lengthy spiel where Luca droned on and on about how hard Eric had been working and how it didn’t surprise him in the slightest that he played so well tonight. 

“He’s my best friend, of course I admire him,” Luca said after a moment, noticing the way that Eric’s demeanor softened out of the corner of his eye, “I get to see how great he is everyday, I just hope all of you can see that too. And I think you did tonight.”

Luca wondered just how much of this interview would make it to broadcast; he hoped a lot of it would, Eric deserved it. It was the least he could do to repay him for all of the airtime he’d spent talking about Luca’s accomplishments in his own interviews. And, more selfishly, he hoped that last sound bite would find its way into one of those Yaas TikTok edits. It would make a great intro, he suspected.

“Speaking of best friends, how do you feel about everything going on with Rozanov? How is the team responding to the video of him and Shane Hollander, and what has adjusting to this news been like for the team?”

And that was the question that Luca thought would come much sooner than it did. He was just happy to have gotten plenty of answers in before Bood had to step in for his designated question.

“We all love Roz, he’s our captain and we have his back completely. We missed him out there tonight but the performance we put on, the numbers we put up, that was all for him. Thank you, guys.” Bood said confidently.

He ushered the rookies back to the visitors' locker room without another word, even as the journalists called after them for further comment on Shane and Ilya. One of them even had the nerve to ask Eric and Luca about the video of them leaving the practice facility a couple days before.

Only when they were behind closed doors did Eric immediately pull Luca into a tight hug.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” He punctuated every sentence with a kiss somewhere on Luca’s face. Luca couldn’t help but laugh.

“Of course. I had to brag about you tonight, you were amazing.” Luca admitted, making Eric's smile grow impossibly wider. He looked up at Luca with so much adoration in his eyes it calmed any nerves that still lingered in Luca's stomach. He knew that interview hadn't undone all of the harm that he had caused Eric these past few months but he hoped that it was something.

“They are disgustingly cute.” Wyatt mumbled under his breath as he walked back from the showers.

“You don’t even know the half of it.” Bood laughed.

Luca's phone started loudly ringing from his stall and it made him jump out of the trance that Eric's dark brown eyes had pulled him into. He sheepishly excused himself from Eric's grip and jogged over to it see Ilya's contact lighting up his screen. He slid open the FaceTime call and a fuzzy looking Ilya appeared on screen.

“Ilyusha!” He cheered happily. That got the attention of his teammates, all of them talking over one another as they rushed over and tried to push their way into the frame. Ilya started saying something but Luca couldn’t quite hear it over the growing sound in the locker room. 

“Guys, shut up!” He swatted at his teammates and turned to sit down in his stall. He squinted down at the blurry image of Ilya that kept freezing and unfreezing, “Ilyusha? You there?”

Ilya grinned and said something that Luca couldn’t quite catch. Service was never very good in the arena. 

“What? Sorry, it’s hard to hear you.” Luca put the phone closer to his ear and turned the volume up louder.

“I said it was a joke, the hat trick thing.” He repeated himself, a bit louder this time. Luca grinned down at the camera. He caught sight of himself in the corner of the screen and ran a hand through his hair. Hopefully it didn’t look that crazy in the interview.

“Yeah well, I had to do something to make you happy,” He insisted, squinting to get a better look at Ilya’s background, “Are you in Montreal? Is Shane there?”

“Yes, he is.” Ilya shoved the phone into Shane’s hands before he could run away. The camera jostled a bit, the only thing filling up Luca’s screen being the ceiling of Shane’s condo. He heard some threatening whispering before Shane held the phone up to himself.

“Hey, buddy!” He greeted Luca with a kind smile.

“Shane!” Luca cheered. Some of his teammates stared at him with wide eyes, others whispering amongst themselves as they quieted down to listen in. Luca ignored them.

Shane chuckled, “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’m on top of the world.” Luca giddily smiled down at the camera. That made the guys cheer around him and Luca waved them off with a laugh. 

Shane’s smile grew impossibly wider.

“Is Eric there?” He asked.

Luca snapped his head over to where Eric was still standing on the other side of the room, frozen in place. His eyes widened at the sound of his name.

“Yeah, he is! He’s right here.” Luca ran over and shoved the phone into Eric’s hands before he could get any further.

Eric’s jaw dropped as he stared at Shane on the other end of the call.

“Oh uh, h–hey Shane!” He cleared his throat to collect himself. Luca giggled and wrapped his arms around Eric's waist from behind, resting his head on Eric's shoulder so that part of his face was still in frame.

“Hey Eric, great game! You had some sneaky assists in there.” Shane smiled. 

“Oh, thank you.” Eric’s cheeks tinted a light pink colour at the praise. Luca squeezed his waist reassuringly. 

Suddenly the phone jostled and Ilya came back into frame, his face entirely too close to the camera. 

“Do not get too comfortable on the first line, Young. I am coming back to take my spot.” He joked, which made Eric grin.

“I don’t know, Roz, they might have to keep me here after tonight’s performance.” He retorted. Shane could be heard laughing at them off screen. 

After a few more pleasantries, Eric finally went to go shower and Luca tucked himself into a quieter corner to talk a bit more with them. At one point, he asked Shane in French how Ilya was really doing, which Shane answered, much to Ilya’s whining about how rude they were being; he even threatened to only talk to the both of them in Russian for the foreseeable future, which they both pointed out would only make his life harder, not theirs.

Luca could spend the rest of the night talking to them. He silently hoped that they would stay on the phone for a little while longer when Ilya gently encouraged him to go shower and celebrate his win with the guys. Luca reluctantly wished them luck at their meeting the next morning and then held the phone up to the rest of the locker room so that the guys could call out their own goodbyes to Ilya and Hollzy, a nickname that Luca had never heard before. 

When Luca hung up the phone he turned to see the stunned expressions of some of his teammates.

“What?” He asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Will it ever not be weird that Roz is dating Shane Hollander?” Dykstra asked no one in particular.

There were murmurs of agreement all around the room. Luca snickered as he peeled off some more of his gear.

“Didn’t some of you literally coach with him at their summer camps? Wyatt? Troy?” Luca pointed out. 

“Okay yeah but it’s Shane Hollander.” Wyatt chuckled dryly, putting emphasis on Shane’s name like he was some sort of spectacle and not the same guy that spent part of Christmas Day teaching Luca how to perfect his back hand.

Just then Eric walked back into the room with damp hair and a towel wrapped low around his waist. His muscles were still tight from the game and Luca had to forcibly avert his eyes to the floor for fear of what might happen if he didn't. 

“And some of us have had a crush on the guy since we were kids. Isn’t that right, Young?” LaPointe smiled cheekily over at an unsuspecting Eric. He turned a very bright red when the other guys started teasing him.

“Shut up. I did not.” He grumbled before plopping down into his stall beside Luca. 

“Yeah, sure Eric. What was that conversation we had about celebrity crushes a few months ago, Holmes? I seem to recall a very interesting conversation about Hollander, don’t you?” LaPointe kept prodding, turning to Holmberg who only validated this story. 

Luca remembered it too but he could see how embarrassed Eric was getting and he didn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire. Besides, Shane was like family and the thought of that was just weird.

“Okay, okay. You guys are gonna have to get over your weird feelings towards Shane because he’s probably going to be around a lot more.” Luca said. He started making his way over to the showers, letting the rest of the guys deliberate on what their first time meeting Ilya’s boyfriend would be like. 

///

They took Coach Wiebe's advice and decided to spend the rest of the night in the hotel bar. The staff had cleared a section in the back for them so that they could enjoy one another's presence in private. At one table, a group of guys had a poker game going, at another there was a lively game of Heads Up going on. Dykstra's god awful playlist was somehow playing over the speakers, maybe because their waitress was a fan, but Luca ignored it all in favour of a quiet table with Bood and Wyatt. Upon their request, he was sketching out possible tattoo designs for them on one of the napkins. In return, they bought him drinks.

"Yeah, I like the nautical style so maybe we could make him look like he's more in the navy?" Book pointed at some of his forearm tattoos.

In Luca's tipsy state he could not understand anything Bood had just said—navy was a colour, he thought briefly—but he nodded anyway and got back to his very rough sketch of the soldier that Bood had requested. It was for his son, Milo, whose name apparently meant soldier in German. Luca's brain wasn't working at its full capacity so he wasn't able to translate it himself but it sounded correct enough. He continued mapping out the idea on the very small napkin their waitress had provided them.

"Okay but what about a Milo of Croton tattoo? I think that would look sick with your boat over there." Wyatt pointed at another one of Bood's tattoos. 

Luca turned to him with a confused expression, "Sorry, did you just say crouton?"

Both Wyatt and Bood laughed just as Eric walked up to the table with a glass of water.

"What's going on over here?" He smiled, looking between the three of them in amusement.

"I'm drawing tattoos!" Luca said excitedly as he dragged his pen across the napkin. It ripped under his pressure and he pouted down at it, "Oh no! The soldier lost his arm." 

"We're supposed to be celebrating and you're putting him to work?" Eric raised his eyebrows at the two men.

"Hey, he agreed to it!" Wyatt defended with raised hands.

"Yeah well that's because Haasy is too nice to say no."

Luca blushed as he took another sip of his drink. It had been a long time since he'd drank like this and he was definitely feeling it. His head felt lighter and his eyes weren't fully cooperating as he had to blink a few times to focus on Eric's unimpressed glare. When Luca first agreed to this idea he thought it was a fair trade; he gets drunk for free and his teammates get cool tattoo designs. In hindsight, they maybe should've asked for the drawings before he got his payment, seeing as his drawing was only getting sloppier with each shot he pounded back. Eric slid into the seat beside him and crumpled up the napkin that he was drawing on.

"Hey!"

"What the heck, Youngster?"

Both Bood and Wyatt exclaimed. Eric just threw the crumpled up napkin on the table between them.

"Go away so that I can spend some quality time with my boyfriend." He waved them off and placed an arm on the back of Luca's chair.

They grumbled but got up from the table anyways, leaving the two of them alone in the corner of the bar. Eric turned and placed his elbow onto the table so that he was blocking Luca's view of the rest of the room.

"Hello, you," He grinned as he looked over Luca's face, "You look drunk."

Luca hiccuped.

"Not as drunk as you, I don't think." Luca booped Eric's nose. Eric laughed.

"Yeah and why's that?" 

"Because you just called me your...boyfriend." Luca whispered the last word like it was a secret. He tried to look over Eric's shoulder just to make sure that no one had heard him but Eric pulled his chin back towards him gently.

"Are you not my boyfriend?" Eric asked with a dimpled smile.

"Well you've never officially asked me." Luca pointed out. Eric gently pushed Luca's glasses up his nose.

"Well, Luca Haas. Would you like to be my boyfriend?" He tried to ask the question very seriously but a grin slowly started to spread across his face in time with Luca's own.

"It's a bit inappropriate to ask a guy that when he's under the influence." Luca retorted cheekily. 

"Ah yes, so inappropriate. I apologize."

They fell into a fit of giggles. 

"But yes, I would love to be your boyfriend." Luca admitted once they'd sobered up.

"I was hoping you'd say that." Eric whispered as he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Luca's lips.

Luca really wanted to take it further by swiping his tongue across Eric's bottom lip but Eric pulled back. He placed a hand gently on Luca's chest.

"Here, drink this." Eric nudged the glass of water closer to Luca. He pouted down at it.

"But I don't want water."

Luca was thoroughly enjoying the high that he was riding right now; he wasn't quite sure if it was from the alcohol or the buzz that Eric always gave him whenever he was near but he didn't want it to end.

"Well I want you to feel okay when you wake up tomorrow." Eric retorted. Luca frowned but took a careful sip of the water anyways.

Just then, there was a loud commotion from across the room that nearly made Luca jump out of his skin, causing some of the water to spill. Dykstra had won the game of poker and was loudly bragging about it as he dragged the large pile of money closer to him with both arms. Some of their other teammates booed him.

"You okay?" Eric chuckled as he grabbed a couple of napkins from the pile sitting in front of them.

"Shit, s-sorry!" Luca hiccuped, taking some of the napkins and helping to clean up the water he got on Eric.

"You're okay, don't worry about it," Eric chuckled. His eyes were trained on Luca as he continued to clean up the water on the table in front of them, "You know, I've been thinking..."

"Oh no." Luca joked, referencing Eric's same joke he used with LaPointe on their last plane ride.

"Shut up, I'm serious," Eric bubbled with laughter and laced his fingers with Luca's own. He smiled up at him to encourage him to continue, "You know, I had a weird suspicion that something was up with Roz."

“What do you mean?” Luca cocked his head to the side.

“Things just didn’t add up,” Eric said elusively. When Luca didn’t say anything, he added, “The whole Montreal Girl thing? It was fishy. Why wouldn’t he introduce us to his girlfriend if she lived only a couple hours away?”

Luca shuffled in his seat to get a better look at Eric’s side profile. Under the dim lighting of the bar he somehow looked even more beautiful than usual. Luca tried not to get distracted by it as he continued.

“And when you had your, um, accident against Montreal…” Eric looked just as uncomfortable as Luca felt when thinking back on that incident, “And Shane stayed by your side the whole time Roz was fighting Comeau.”

Luca swallowed thickly. Even in his tipsy state he knew that wasn’t their most sly moment…

“Then there were the photos you guys posted at Christmas. They weren’t taken in Roz’s living room. He doesn't have a red brick fireplace.” Eric pointed out. Luca thought back to the photo Ilya and Luca had posted on their stories; the one where they were wearing matching pyjamas and Sophia was standing between them in her signed Rozanov jersey. The three of them looked like siblings as they smiled for Shane behind the camera. 

Luca took a careful sip of whatever water remained in his glass. How had no one else noticed that before? None of the guys had said anything.

“And there was that Jeep in your driveway when we got back from Tampa. You said that Ilya got a new car but he would never buy something that boring,” Eric chuckled to himself, “That was Shane’s car, wasn’t it?”

“Okay, that was a bad lie.” Luca admitted sheepishly.

Eric grinned, “You are the worst liar.”

Luca gently slapped his chest. There was no real weight to it, his limbs felt floaty by that point.

“In my defense, I thought he was going to park in the garage! He usually does.” Luca insisted. Shane claimed that it was safer that way, no one could pin the car to him if it was hidden away in the garage. He was always so cautious. Unlike Ilya and Luca, apparently.

“You’re so cute.” Eric smiled over at him. He laced their fingers together under the table and Luca smiled down at them.

“And you,”  Luca stuck his pointer finger into Eric’s chest, “—are so smart.” 

Eric smiled wide at him.

“It doesn't take a genius to put those clues together, especially not after I found out Ilya was bisexual.” He shrugged.

Luca crinkled up his nose.

"No, you're a genius. Don't let anyone tell you any different," Luca said with conviction, squeezing Eric's hand under the table, "And if anyone ever makes you feel stupid or bad or whatever, you tell me."

Eric studied Luca's face for a moment, trying to gauge the level of drunkenness that was fuelling Luca's words. To really sell it, Luca raised his fists up in front of his face and narrowed his eyes at Eric.

"And I'll fight 'em."

Eric just laughed. Luca thought maybe he wasn't that bad of a liar.

They sat at the table for a little while longer, just chatting about the game and watching their teammates around the bar. Somehow the guys had fallen into another poker game—double or nothing, LaPointe had cheered—and it was looking like Dykstra was losing based on his loud complaints about people cheating. At some point, Luca's eyes started to feel heavy and he couldn't stop a loud yawn from escaping his lips.

"You wanna go up to bed?" Eric squeezed his thigh. Luca tried to protest but Eric was having none of it. He guided Luca out of the bar with a quick wave back at their teammates, to which they all called out their goodnights. Luca could've sworn someone made a joke about being safe which was quickly met with a loud slapping sound and then an, "Ow!" Luca was too tired to see who it was.

Back in the hotel room, Eric carefully set Luca down on the edge of the bed before kneeling down in front of him.

"Mmmm, I like where this is going." Luca sleepily murmured. Eric rolled his eyes.

"I'm taking off your shoes, Haasy." 

He did just that, taking one off after the other and then carefully placing them over by the door. When he returned to stand in front of Luca, he gently slid off his glasses and placed them on the bedside table.

"Now I can't see!" Luca pouted.

"Shut up." Eric said affectionately.

He gestured for Luca to raise his arms up and he did. Eric slid off his shirt, folded it and placed it on top of his open suitcase on the floor. He did the same with his pants, slapping at Luca's hands when he tried to unbuckle Eric's belt. Luca pouted as Eric pulled back the covers and nodded for Luca to get in. He did so, albeit a bit clumsily, and hummed when Eric tucked him in. Luca instinctively cuddled a bit deeper into the bed.

Eric mosied around the room but Luca paid him no mind. His eyes kept fluttering shut even as he willed them to stay open and only when Eric climbed in behind him did he hum contentedly. 

“Goodnight.” Eric whispered. He placed a gentle kiss behind Luca’s ear.

Luca just hummed in response. His body felt so heavy, almost like if Eric wasn’t there to hold him then he might slip into a different dimension entirely. As they laid together in the silent room, Luca's brain started spinning with thoughts from the day.

Ilya was back home with Shane.

The two of them had their meeting with the Commissioner the next day.

Their first game without Ilya.

His hat trick. Eric's game.

The interview.

He’s my best friend, of course I admire him.

Boyfriends. Kissing in public.

Did someone see them?

The TikTok edits would be insane...so would the hate comments. 

I’m a Haasy fan and even I know that Young would be so much better off if he was traded to another team.

Luca is so selfish.

Luca doesn't care about Eric.

Eric rubbed his thumb gently across Luca's chest, right where his heart rate was beating out of sync with the serenity of the moment.

"You okay?" Eric whispered. 

Luca thought about it for a moment.

"Do I hold you back?" He asked meekly, almost like if he said the words quiet enough then maybe he could convince himself that he hadn't said them in the first place.

"What?" Eric asked. When Luca didn't respond he reached across them both and clicked on the bedside lamp. Luca blinked a few times so that his eyes could adjust as Eric rolled him onto his back, "Did you just ask if you hold me back?"

Luca averted his eyes down to where his hands were fidgeting with the duvet.

"Luca." Eric said in a warning tone, gently placing his fingers under Luca's chin to lift his gaze again. When he met Eric's eyes they held so much concern. Luca suddenly felt stupid for even bringing it up.

"Never mind, it's fine. Just something stupid I saw online—"

"It's not stupid."

Luca froze.

Oh. So Eric did agree with the haters.

"No, don't let your mind go there, that's not what I meant," Eric sighed as Luca averted his eyes back down to his hands again. This time, he didn't force him to look back up, "You saw the hate comments, didn't you?"

Luca sucked on the inside of his cheek to stop any tears from falling.

“The fans think I’m selfish, that you live in my shadow. They said you’d be better off without me.” 

“Oh Luca, no.” Eric tutted. He gently wiped at the tear that trailed down Luca's cheek, “I’m so sorry, I never wanted you to see those things.” 

Luca met his eyes again, “So you knew?”

Eric deflated, much like he had in the video compilations Luca watched a couple nights before. It broke Luca all over again.

Eric sighed, “They started popping up around November. I check in with them every now and then just to keep a pulse on everything but most of it is just stupid people creating stories that have no merit to them.” 

Luca’s tipsy brain clung onto only one part of that admission.

“Most of it?” He repeated. Eric pressed his lips into a firm line.

“No, no. All of it. They’re just haters, Luca, I don’t agree with any of it,” He said confidently, gently cupping Luca’s cheek so that he could look him dead in the eyes as he said it, “How could I? They’re saying horrible things about you, making shit up that isn’t even true, spinning narratives about things that they know nothing about.”

“They aren’t wrong,” Luca mumbled, returning his gaze down to his hands, “I’m selfish and I have to always come first and—”

“No. They’re not right about you, Haasy. None of it is true—” 

“But what if it is? What if they see me for how I really am?" Luca's voice had grown louder, cutting Eric off completely. They fell into an uncomfortable silence, the two of them staring at one another, waiting to see who would break first.

"I know who you really are."

The raw admission pierced through Luca like a knife. Eric sounded so fragile and yet so sure of himself as he said it, like it personally offended him that Luca could conjure up any other version of himself. Luca almost had to believe him. He wanted to believe him, he really did, but he was hesitant. Scared. Even with the alcohol flooding his brain, that anxious voice in the back of his mind was still there. It was so loud, reminding him that it was too risky to trust Eric. It was pouring negativity into Luca almost like it fuelled him and—maybe it did, Luca realized. He didn't know a world without that stupid voice. The thought of that alone terrified him.

Still, another voice, one the size of a poppy seed had taken root in the middle of Luca's brain. It begged him to trust Eric.

He is safe, this new voice reminded him. He isn't lying to you.

Luca squeezed his eyes shut, the two voices going back and forth in a very unfair battle, growing louder and louder the longer he sat in silence with Eric.

"Okay." He found himself saying.

As the words left him, his limbs sunk deeper into the bed and the pressure in his brain lifted. When he opened his eyes, Eric was smiling sadly at him. His own eyes were glossy.

"Okay." Eric reaffirmed, wiping at his own eyes before plastering a more confident smile on his face, "Thank you for talking to me about this. I wasn't sure how to bring it up after the other night."

Luca just nodded, he didn't know what to say.

"That's sort of how this whole thing works, you know?" Eric continued, poking at Luca's side until he giggled.

"How what works?" Luca squirmed to avoid Eric's prying hands. 

"This whole boyfriend thing." Eric said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Luca smiled up at him and cupped Eric's cheek. Eric leaned into it, making Luca's heart flutter.

He wondered how he got so lucky. 

"Are we okay?" Eric asked, searching Luca's eyes for anything else he might've been hiding. 

"Yes, we are okay," Luca insisted, growing impatient as he looked up at his boyfriend, "Can you please kiss me now?"

Eric grinned, "That I can do."

Chapter End Notes

And we're back! I apologize for the infrequent updates, life is a bit busy right now but I promise I will always come back. I think about these characters far too much for my own sanity so I can't stay away from them for too long hahaha

I'm thinking we've got 3-4 more chapters (including an epilogue) before this fic is done, but fret not! I've got plans for a sequel so stay tuned :)))

P.S: I saw someone talking about my fic on TikTok and it made me cry -- Christi if you see this, thank you so much! Literally made my whole year <3

P.P.S: 300,000+ hits??? y'all are crazy and I love you

Chapter 34: King of the Castle

Chapter Notes

Ottawa, April 2021

“The king is back!” Bood announced loudly as Ilya walked back into the locker room for the first time since being benched. He was practically floating as a loud chorus of greetings welcomed him back. Ilya couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he dropped his bag into his locker.

“Okay, okay! Yes, it is true. I am back. No need to cheer.” Ilya chuckled.

He raised two hands to the room to silence the guys. They slowly quieted down and waited for whatever he had to say next. He placed his hands on his hips and scanned the room carefully. The guys were antsy, almost eager for his return, like an excited group of puppies that had yet to learn object permanence.  It assuaged any nerves he felt on the drive over.

“You read the post, probably, about me and Shane.” His words were met with a few nods around the room, “So, yes. We are together.”

There was a stretched silence as the guys considered this.

Bood broke it by saying, “Figures.”

Ilya raised his eyebrows at him.

“You stealing the fucking spotlight. First Barrett comes out, announces his relationship with Harris. Then the rookies. Then Roz comes along and says, ‘hold my beer.’” Bood grinned, motioning over to where Troy, Luca, and Young were all sitting in their stalls. Harris was standing by Troy’s side, leaning against the wall with a lopsided smile on his face.

“Yeah, Roz. What the fuck?” Troy chided as a slow grin rose to his face.

“Technically I was outed before the rookies.” Ilya pointed out.

The room erupted in laughter and Ilya’s heart swelled. He loved this team.

“Okay, on a more serious note I want to thank you all for being so understanding,” He cleared his throat as a swell of emotions washed over him, “Even though I have kept my relationship private, you have all been so supportive since the video came out.”

“Aw, Rozy’s getting emotional. I think he loves us, guys.” Young cooed which elicited a teasing chorus of “awwws” from around the room. Ilya glared at him.

“Russians do not do this,” He pointed a warning finger in Young’s direction, even as he grinned back at him. Ilya just rolled his eyes, trying his best to appear annoyed when deep down he felt a strong fondness for the kid, “Now I know you are all curious, so ask your questions. Before I change my mind.”

The energy in the room quickly changed to one of unabashed curiosity as they all broke out into questions at the same time. Harris’ voice was the loudest of them all so Ilya turned to him first.

“How long have you been together?” Harris all but yelled. It was like he’d been holding onto that question since the video was first leaked. Ilya wouldn’t put it past him.

“That’s a hard one. Years.” Ilya shrugged.

“Years?” Bood asked, incredulously.

“Define years.” Troy prodded.

“Years.” Ilya just shrugged, unsure how many details Shane would be comfortable with him sharing.

“So, you moved to Ottawa for him?” Wyatt confirmed.

“Da, I moved so that we could be closer. Easier to maintain a relationship when you’re two hours apart. And in the same country.”

“Okay so over three years.” Bood quickly did the math in his head. Ilya hoped they didn’t think too hard about that even as some of their eyes glazed over in deep thought. If there was ever a time for the dumb hockey player stereotype to be true, Ilya hoped it was now.

“And how long has Haasy known?” Chouinard nodded over at where Luca was sitting. He turned bright pink.

“Since Halloween.” Luca answered.

He shuddered at the memory. Ilya smirked.

“There’s a story there.” Troy said warily, gesturing between the two of them.

“For another time.” Ilya waved him off, seeing Luca’s cheeks flame even darker. Possibly one of their plane take-off stories in the future, if Luca could get through it without dying of embarrassment first.

“And how’s Hollzy managing all of this?” Wyatt asked.

Ilya furrowed his eyebrows together, “Hollzy?”

“We workshopped it while you were gone,” Dykstra supplied with a casual shrug, “There were some other fun nicknames, though—”

“Hols, Holly, Hollamander, Hollywood. We thought Hollzy was the best.” Wyatt beamed.

Ilya just smiled. Of course the guys had workshopped a nickname for Shane already. Hollzy, he liked it. He’d have to tell Shane about that later.

His smile deflated as the guys waited for him to answer the question.

“He is okay.”

“Just okay?” Harris sounded skeptical.

“The Voyageurs were ok with everything?” Troy added, doubtfully. If anyone could sense a homophobic team, it was him.

Ilya pressed his lips into a firm line. If he thought about it too hard, he might let it slip how he actually felt about the whole situation with Shane and his teammates. In the corner of the room, Luca had averted his eyes to the floor. They’d stayed up late the night before, two cups of tea growing colder as Ilya vented about all of it. Shane was so patient with his team—so forgiving—it made Ilya’s stomach churn. They didn’t deserve him as far as Ilya was concerned; Luca agreed, if that was any consolation. He figured his team would too.

When it became clear that Ilya wasn’t going to give them a straight answer—not that they needed one anyways, he supposed—Wyatt quickly changed the subject.

“Are you engaged?”

“What?” Ilya’s eyes widened.

“The ring. On your chain.” He gestured to his own chain before pointing at Ilya’s, which was proudly displaying his mother’s crucifix and the ring that Shane had given him. Ilya’s hand instinctively came up to hold it.

“You are perceptive.”

“I’m a goalie, it’s kind of my job.” Wyatt joked.

That got a few chuckles from around the room.

“We are engaged, yes.” Ilya confirmed. There was another round of cheers which made Ilya smile.

“When’s the wedding?” Young asked over all the noise.

“This summer. Maybe if you keep playing like you did in Calgary then you’ll be invited.” Ilya said.

“Well, I’ll be Haasy’s plus one either way.” Young pointed out, cheekily.

Ilya rolled his eyes.

“Everyone’s invited, don’t worry.” Luca patted Young’s thigh to appease him.

“Oh, they are?” Ilya raised his eyebrows.

“If Yuna has anything to do with it, then yes.” Luca insisted.

A few eyebrows shot up around the room at the nonchalance with which Luca said Yuna’s name. Even Dykstra sat up a little straighter, almost like she had eyes in their locker room and would make a preemptive judgement about him based on his slouching. It made Ilya snicker. Yuna had a reputation that proceeded her, even in locker rooms outside of Montreal. And Boston, Ilya quickly reminded himself, as he thought back to the first time he’d met her. He was shitting bricks in that elevator. If only 19-year-old Ilya knew that same woman would be planning his wedding one day. 

“You only get married once!” Yuna insisted when she first decided that they were going to have a proper wedding that summer. If it were up to Shane and Ilya, they would have some quick ceremony with a handful of witnesses and an officiant. Maybe they'd cater in some food from Ilya's favourite restaurant downtown and order a cake from that bakery that Shane liked in Montreal. There probably wouldn't even be chairs.

"I mean, that's not true." Ilya had said offhandedly in response, to which Shane slapped him on the chest. He merely grinned as he planted a wet kiss on Shane's cheek that redirected their conversation away from Yuna's wedding planning.

Ilya was so grateful for Yuna; even when she sent them texts at ungodly hours of the morning asking about their floral and colour scheme preferences. One time Ilya had to ask Luca what the heck a corsage was and why it mattered so much. Luca could translate the word for him but was no use on the significance-front, to which a very tired Sophia laughed in their faces over FaceTime before scolding them both for being such guys. Whenever Yuna would text with a particular question, Shane would reply with a quick, “Whatever you think is best, Mom!”, shortly followed by a, “Thank you again, Yuna!” text from Ilya.

“Well, I’m looking forward to it, Roz. Congratulations.”

Wyatt's firm hug pulled Ilya out of his thoughts. 

“Thank you.” Ilya whispered into his shoulder. He was worried that if he spoke any louder then someone might notice just how wobbly his voice had gotten.

“No problem.” Wyatt patted him on the back, “Just try not to make your wedding day the same as Harris and Troy’s, okay? I don’t want to have to do a lot of running around that day.”

Ilya snorted, “Okay, Wyatt.”

He pulled away from the hug, rubbing furiously at his eyes before any tears fell. With a deep breath, he turned back to the room of men who were watching him with admiration in their eyes. He cleared his throat.

“Okay, any final questions?” He announced, clapping once. The room seemed to reset back into their usual energy, some of the guys rubbing at their own eyes while others rolled their shoulders back to prepare themselves for practice.

“Just one,” Young bravely raised his hand. Ilya raised his eyebrows at him, encouraging him to continue as a devilish grin spread across the rookie's face, “How the hell did you manage to bag Shane Hollander?”

The room erupted into laughter and some murmurs of agreement, while Luca slapped Young’s chest. Young just stared at Ilya, that mischievous twinkle in his eye looking oddly familiar as Ilya narrowed his eyes at him. If Ilya really thought about it, his boldness reminded him a lot of himself at that age, and for that reason he couldn’t hide the smirk that rose to his face.

///

When Luca walked towards the practice rink, he felt much more like himself. It was like his body knew that Ilya was out there waiting for him, ready to run them through a tough practice just to make up for lost time. The only thing standing between him and the rink, however, was Harris with his camera. He tried to steal his expression as he approached.

“Okay, buddy! Ready for the Question of the Day?” Harris beamed.

Luca tucked his glove under one arm so that he could clasp his helmet.

“Can I say no?” He asked, unsure of himself.

Since his not-so-mini panic attack the week before, Harris had let him off the hook when it came to social media stuff. It was a sort of silent agreement they’d all come to, likely prompted by Ilya without Luca having to think about it too much, not that he was complaining. With Ilya back, though, Luca quickly realized that he would have to step back into the social media spotlight. It was Ilya’s turn to lay low. As much as he feasibly could now that he'd be back on the ice.

“Oh c’mon, it’s not that bad! You act like I’m holding you at gun point.” Harris said.

“It all feels the same to Haasy,” Eric joked as he walked up to join them. Luca glared at him but Eric fixed him with an innocent smile, “What’s your question, Harris?”

“Who is your emergency contact?”

The pair of rookies turned to one another.

“On the count of 3?” Eric suggested. Luca simply nodded and Harris counted them down.

“Ilya.” Luca insisted at the same time that Eric said—

“Haasy! Wait, what?” Eric snapped his head over to Luca dramatically. Luca’s cheeks flushed as he looked between Eric and the camera awkwardly. 

“Well, it’s sort of obvious, isn’t it?” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.

Eric pouted but Luca could tell that he was playing it up for the cameras, so he leaned into it.

“No hard feelings, right?” He grinned knowingly. Eric huffed.

“Yeah, no, it’s totally fine. I’m not offended at all.” Eric said unconvincingly as he walked past the camera. Luca smiled lazily at him.

“Hey! Don’t be like this!” He called after him. Harris giggled behind the camera.

“What’s going on?” Bood asked as he walked up, shoving his gloves on.

“Bood, who is your emergency contact?” Harris asked.

“My wife,” Bood shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Why, who did you say?” He turned to look at Luca.

“Ilya, obviously.” Luca said.

Eric had already clambered onto the ice and was trying busy himself with one of the loose pucks lying about. It clearly wasn't working as he yelled over, “Which is crazy!”

Bood knitted his eyebrows together, clearly confused.

“He chose me.” Luca supplied, making Bood roll his eyes.

“Youngster, chances are if you’re in an emergency then Haasy will be right there with you!” He yelled back. Eric flipped them off and skated to the other end of the ice to join the rest of the guys in their warm-up.

“Eric’s emergency contact is me, just so that we’re all clear.” Bood directed towards a camera, causing Luca to laugh, before the two of them finally made their way onto the ice.

Once they were all warmed up, Coach Wiebe blew his whistle for the guys to gather around center ice. Most of the guys took a knee but Luca stood near the back of the pack, right beside Ilya, who was buzzing with so much pent-up energy that he was shuffling back and forth on his skates. Luca bit back a small smile as Coach scanned the group of guys. When his eyes landed on Dykstra, he pointed at him.

“What’s happening next week, Dykstra?”

“Playoffs, Coach!” Dykstra barked, almost like he was a soldier answering to his drill sergeant.

“That’s right. Who here has been to the playoffs before?” He directed to the rest of them. Luca tried not to be unnerved by the few hands that went up, including Ilya and Wyatt.

“To be honest,” Wyatt cleared his throat, “I was mostly watching the playoffs, in Toronto.”

Coach Wiebe waved a hand like this was an unimportant detail.

“It doesn’t matter that we don’t have the playoff experience that most teams have. Some people will say that experience is the most important thing, but I think it’s heart. I think it has more to do with working together than it does with following a few leaders. I believe in this group. These past few months we’ve shown everyone how well this team works together.” He said confidently, eliciting a round of stick taps around the ice. Luca joined in, feeling a bit more settled at the confidence in Wiebe’s tone.

“Bood,” Coach turned to point at him this time, “What was the attendance at our last home game?”

Bood grinned, “Full house, Coach.”

“And who was the player of the week last week?”

“Wyatt fucking Hayes.” Eric jumped in, grinning over at Wyatt from where he was kneeling on the other side of the huddle. There were a few snickers.

“Because we’ve got the best goalie in the league.” Coach added with a big smile of his own.

“Thanks, guys.” Wyatt said bashfully. Ilya clapped him on the shoulder.

“We’re going to be playing Montreal in the first round, and that’s going to be tough, no question. They’re the defending champions, and the number one ranked team in the league at the moment.” Coach continued.

Luca tried to push aside the other, more obvious reason why playing Montreal in the first round was going to be tricky. Beside him, Ilya stopped shuffling on his skates. He mindlessly tapped his stick against Ilya’s shins to which Ilya sent him a small, appreciative smile. Luca returned it in equal measure.

“We’ve beaten them before and we can do it again,” Coach added without missing a beat, “Roz, you’re back on the line with Barrett and Haas. Let’s get to work.”

Practice was nothing short of gruelling. Coach Wiebe was right when he said that Ilya would be sitting at home, drawing up plays and drills for the team when he got back. He had them run the same offensive drills for what felt like forever. There seemed to be no end to it, almost like they were going to run it until Ilya was satisfied. Unfortunately for them, they fell short every time.

Luca would’ve thought nothing of it, just another tough practice where he'd have to sit in the ice bath a little longer afterwards to recover from, but Ilya had put careful consideration into the defensive lines. He'd paired Luca up with some of the largest and most brutal defenders on the team. Luca couldn't help the frustration that grew in his chest every time he lined up for his turn. 

No matter what he did, it felt like it wasn’t good enough. He kept his head down and soldiered on, trying his hardest to take Ilya's corrections in stride, even as his accent grew thicker and his words came out more clipped. Luca's heart was pounding in his chest, a cool bead of sweat hanging off his brow as he set-up for another run. He was taken back to a younger version of himself, one that felt the need to prove himself every time he stepped foot on the ice. He would try and try until his legs gave out, if that's what Ilya wanted. If that's what he expected. He would do anything to prove that he belonged here.

The whistle blew and he was off, his blades cutting harshly into the ice as he skated down the right side of the rink. He slapped his stick against the ice, calling for Troy to pass it from the other side, but when he did Boyle flattened Luca against the boards. Hard.

That's when Ilya lost it.

“Cut in on the inside, Luca! The inside, fuck!” Ilya yelled, waving his arms around as he looped around the back of the net.

Luca leaned his stick across the tops of his thighs in a poor attempt at catching his breath. His ears were still ringing, head fuzzy as he digested Ilya's final criticism. 

“I’m trying.” He exclaimed breathlessly.

"What was that?" Ilya barked.

Luca stood tall and glared at him across the ice.

"I said I'm fucking trying!" He snapped.

The whole ice went silent. Ilya raised his eyebrows at Luca, almost challenging him to repeat himself, but it didn't matter. He was already skating over and coming to an abrupt stop in front of him, spraying ice across his skates.

Luca rolled his shoulders back and stared him down. Ilya looked scary like this, what with his jaw set and his piercing eyes burning holes through Luca's own. He would be lying if he said that his heart wasn't racing. He wanted to puff out his chest and dare Ilya to criticize him again, but the words get stuck in his throat. This was Ilya; his captain, his family. The same guy that would give the shirt off his back if Luca needed it. The same guy that had done so much for him in the short time they'd known each other. 

He swallowed his pride and averted his eyes down to his skates, waiting for whatever Ilya was going to do next. Would he spit something at him? Tell him he was useless? Force him to run bag skates while the rest of the team watched? He’d never seen Ilya do something like that, but he wouldn’t put it past him. He’d heard the stories from Boston; the ones from 2016 that floated across the pond on broadcasting channels into the early hours of the morning.

Ilya sighed defeatedly, “Everyone take five.”

The rest of their teammates obliged without hesitation, breaking out into whispered conversations and giving them some space to talk more openly. Luca refused to look up, too scared of the anger that he might see on Ilya’s face. Or worse, the disappointment that surely awaited him.

“Luca, look at me.” Ilya instructed. Luca squeezed his eyes shut, trying to count to four with each inhale and exhale he took, “Mitshuka.” 

Luca slowly lifted his chin to meet Ilya’s eyes. Any hardness that was there before was now gone, replaced by a level of concern that Luca wasn’t expecting. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it. 

“What’s going on?” He asked quietly, searching Luca’s eyes.

“Nothing.” He lied.

“Luca...” Ilya's tone bordered on pleading now. 

Luca couldn't handle it so he glanced over at the bench where Troy and Eric were whispering amongst themselves. Eric hesitantly looked over and caught his eye. Luca immediately looked back down at his skates and took another deep breath.

“You fixed the lines today.” He said quietly.

“Did I?” Ilya asked innocently, a dumb attempt at a joke to diffuse the tension. Luca glared up at him which erased any sarcasm from Ilya’s tongue as he added, “I want you to be ready for playoffs. It’s different hockey. Harder.”

“I can handle it.” Luca mumbled and pushed past Ilya to skate over to the bench. Ilya followed close behind.

As they approached, the teammates lingering nearby scattered, but not without a concerned look from Eric. Luca ignored it and grabbed one of the Gatorade bottles sitting on the ledge. He squeezed some into his mouth. 

“I know this,” Ilya said casually as he grabbed the bottle from Luca and squirted some into his mouth as well, “And I also know that practicing is going to help.”

“Yeah, well this practice feels targeted.” Luca deadpanned. Ilya refused to meet his eyes, instead he scanned the ice. Luca wasn’t going to let him get away from this conversation without being fully honest; he figured he deserved that much if he was going to continue to be embarrassed in front of everyone.

Ilya leaned back against the ledge, “Between me and you?”

Luca stayed silent to encourage him to continue.

“With everything going on with Shane’s team—with our relationship being public now—he has lost control of them,” Ilya finally looked over at Luca, trying to show just how serious he was about all of this. He swallowed, “And I think they are going to stick Comeau on you the whole time.”

Luca felt a chill run down his spine.

“I can take him.” He insisted with forced confidence.

“I know you can,” Ilya tapped his stick against Luca’s shins, “And you can do that by forcing the inside drive.”

He stood without another word and whistled loudly for the rest of their teammates. They immediately snapped their attention towards him.

“Again!” He bellowed, not wasting another moment before skating back to run the same drill. Luca took a deep breath and another gulp of Gatorade before skating back over to join them.

///

“Are you nervous for playoffs?” Sophia asked.

Luca was struggling to keep his eyes open as they sat on the bus to Montreal. He leaned his head against the cool window in hopes that it would keep him awake. He hadn't slept the night before. He was too nervous to actually fall asleep so instead he stayed up all night, listening to music and drawing. Bood still needed that tattoo finished and Luca needed something to keep his mind busy, so it worked out well.

Luca shrugged, "It's just hockey." 

None of the French speakers on the team were sitting nearby but he made sure to talk quietly anyways. He didn't need LaPointe or someone else eavesdropping on his conversation with his little sister. They wouldn't be much help in easing her nerves; luckily the FaceTime quality wasn't great on the bus so she couldn't see the bags under his eyes. Still, she seemed skeptical as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“What about Ilya and Shane?” She probed. 

Luca glanced over the seats in front of him to where Ilya was texting away on his phone. Eric followed his gaze before glancing at him sideways.

“I think they might be a bit nervous. First time playing against each other since it all came out, I'm sure you can imagine.” He said carefully, ignoring Eric entirely. 

Sophia nodded to herself, rolling the corner of her notebook pages between her fore-finger and thumb. Luca sighed.

“Are you nervous?” He asked.

She hummed but didn't meet his eyes. 

"I'm always nervous when I watch you play." She tried to deflect but Luca wouldn't have it. He waited, eyebrows raised, until she finally looked up at him.

“Fine, yes, I’m nervous. I just can’t—” She stopped herself, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Luca couldn’t help but smile to himself. She looked so much younger when she pushed her hair back like that, the same nervous tick she’d had since they were little kids. His heart panged at the thought of her being worried about him; just another thing he wished he could protect her from.

"I'm excited for your graduation." 

Luca smiled lazily at her as he slouched a bit further into his chair. Eric removed his hand from where it had been resting on Luca's thigh. Only when he got comfortable in his new position did Eric loop his fingers into Luca's sweatshirt pocket, mindlessly playing with the fabric as Luca watched Sophia sit up straighter at her desk. She glared at him through the phone. 

"I gotta get there first." She mumbled.

Luca laughed a little too loud for the quietness of the bus which made Eric smile down at him. 

"I highly doubt Mrs Straight-A-Student is going to bomb her final exams so badly that she doesn't graduate." Luca dead-panned.

"Stranger things have happened," She mumbled to herself. When she finally met his gaze again, she smirked, "Who knows? Maybe I'll stay up so late watching your game that I'll sleep through all my alarms and then miss my exam altogether."

"Sophia..." Luca said in a warning tone.

She giggled, "I won't, I won't. I promise."

He waited.

"I promise!" She insisted, crossing a finger over her heart.

"You better." He warned.

He didn't really have to worry; Sophia treated school like an Olympic sport. Nothing was going to stop her from writing her final exams. Not a late night hockey game, not a faulty alarm, not even a fucking apocalypse. 

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few more moments before Luca yawned again.

"You should try to nap before you get there. Big night ahead of you." She insisted. Luca smiled softly.

"Okay."

"Okay," Sophia repeated, still rolling the corner of her notebook paper between her fingers, "Just be safe tonight, okay? No concussions."

"No concussions. I promise." 

With a final, tight-lipped smile, Sophia hung up and Luca was met with his tired reflection on the black phone screen. 

"All good?" Eric nudged him gently.

Luca sighed, "All good."

He turned his phone off and nuzzled against Eric's shoulder, hoping to get a quick nap in before they arrived in Montreal for their first playoff game. In his last waking moments, he felt Eric kiss his forehead softly. He smiled to himself just as sleep took over.

Chapter End Notes

Wow so many things have happened since I posted the last chapter...

First, HR S2 castings??? How we feeling so far??? I died when I saw Edvin was cast as Luca and also I binged JATP and am now in love with Charlie so...Unsaid Emily is on repeat in my household now, sorry not sorry

 

Second, I went to Ottawa (yes, THE Ottawa) and something super freaky happened to me while I was headed there...

So I was on the train to Ottawa and a guy sat down beside me who looked oddly like how I picture Luca in my head... so I introduced myself, obviously (bc hot guy but also we were gonna be train buddies, so I figured why not?)... anyways, you wanna guess what this mans name was??? Luca!

So my jaw dropped and I had to quickly recover bc that's weird but then I wrote this chapter and there's a very high likelihood he saw so I hope I didn't scare him lol

Anyways, I learned a lot about Ottawa while I was there and now I have more inspo for this world yay!

 

Finally, I made a TikTok!!! So if you wanna be friends, come hang out :)
https://www.tiktok.com/@quietonthelake

Chapter 35: Playing For Keeps

Chapter Notes

TW: homophobia

April 2021, Back and Forth Between Montreal and Ottawa

"There you are."

Luca snapped his head up. He thought he'd finally found a quiet corner to hide away in, one that was far away from the buzzing energy in the locker room and the hum of an eager crowd already flocking to their seats. Puck drop wasn't for another hour so Luca thought he could just slip away quietly, find a dark closet or alcove to tuck into, and pop in some earbuds to stop his heart from beating out of his chest. He just needed some time alone but as Ilya approached him with worried eyes, he suddenly felt quite guilty. 

"Sorry, just needed a minute."

He released a shaky breath as Ilya came to stand over him. 

"Is everything ok?" 

Ilya looked him over once, assessing; the way his chest rose and fell inconsistently, the way he was fiddling with the sleeve of his compression shirt. He knew that Ilya could see right through him but Luca couldn't think too hard about that. Instead he thumped his head back against the concrete wall he was leaning against.

"Just nerves." He squeezed his eyes shut.

Across from him, he heard Ilya slide down the other concrete wall until his gangly limbs were outstretched around the tight ball Luca had wound himself into. His heels dug into Luca's hips and he leaned forward to apply pressure to Luca's forearms which were wrapped protectively around his knees.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Luca slowly coming back into his body as he listened to Ilya's rhythmic breathing across from him.

"Did I ever tell you about my first ever playoff game?"

Luca slowly peeled his eyes open to meet Ilya's own. He raised his eyebrows at him, expecting a response, to which Luca slowly shook his head.

"Ah, well, for good reason," He sighed and sat back against the wall casually, "I threw up. Twice. Didn't even make it to the bathroom. Marly had to clean it up."

Luca scoffed, "No way."

"Yes way," Ilya nodded, "Was so embarrassing. Russian's do not get nervous, I couldn't look at my teammates for the rest of warm-ups."

Somehow the story made the pressure in Luca's chest lighten. Just a little bit.

"Now I carry tummy medicine with me. It helps."

Luca looked down at his hands.

"How did your first playoff game go?" He asked sheepishly.

Ilya shrugged, "Got two goals."

Luca rolled his eyes, "Of course you did. You're Ilya Rozanov."

"Yes this is true," He assessed Luca once more before adding, "But I am no Luca Haas."

Luca scoffed.

"I think you're better off, Ilyusha."

Ilya teetered his head from one side to the other.

"I did not have reputation you do. Was not as consistent. Did not make first line right away—"

"Okay, okay." Luca cut him off because he really didn't want to hear any placating attempts at making him feel better right now.

"I'm serious." Ilya insisted.

Luca just shook his head and looked back down the hallway where the voices from the crowd had started to leak through the silence. It echoed just menacingly enough to pierce straight through Luca's heart again.

"Look at me."

Luca didn't, at least not until Ilya repeated himself. He sighed and finally met Ilya's piercing blue eyes.

"You are going to be great."

"I don't know—"

"Well, I do." He said confidently as he leaned forward again and placed his hands on either of Luca's shoulders, trapping him in an intense stare off, "You are going to go out there and prove to everyone why you are the best fucking rookie in the league. And we are going to win, game after game, and Comeau and all of those cry baby Voyageurs are going to go home with their tails between their legs because they lost to Ottawa in the first round of the playoffs."

Luca gulped.

"Okay." He conceded.

"Okay?" Ilya confirmed.

Luca sat up and nodded a bit more confidently, "Okay."

"Okay. Come on, team's waiting." Ilya stood and offered Luca a hand.

As they made their way back to the visitor's locker room, Luca nudged Ilya.

"What about you?"

Ilya hummed in response, his eyes flickering all around them as he assessed the underbelly of the Bell Centre. Workers seemed to track their every movement as they walked past. Luca tried not to stare back.

"Are you okay?" He probed.

Ilya took a moment to think about it. It was a dumb question, Luca quickly realized, he could only imagine the mix of emotions swirling around Ilya's head as he prepared to stand across from Shane in under an hour, millions of eyes watching them with baited breath. Still, Ilya plastered a grin on his face and threw an arm around Luca's shoulder.

Whether it was for Luca's case or Ilya's own, Luca didn't question it as his captain casually said, "Never better, Mitshuka. Never better."

Luca's body was practically buzzing when he stepped foot on the ice that night. There was something unnerving about playing against the Voyageurs, and based on the energy radiating around the arena, Luca knew he wasn’t the only one feeling it. He could feel it in the air, in the pre-game speech that Ilya put a little too much confidence into, even in the stands as he skated tight laps during warm-ups. It was a three-fold problem, he figured.

First, there was the whole Shane and Ilya of it all. People wanted to watch the pair play against one another now that they knew the true nature of their relationship. What was funny to Luca was that the world had only ever known a world where the pair were intertwined in some capacity. The hockey wouldn’t be any different but they still showed up, this time with their Hollanov signs in tow. Luca wondered how those hadn’t been burned by die-hard Montreal fans in the streets before the game.

Second, the Voyageurs had clearly turned on their captain. Luca didn’t need an inside scoop to know that, the players made it painfully obvious themselves. They didn’t show Shane the same respect they once did; ignoring him during warm-ups, skating away from the bench when he’d come over for water. The only person paying him any mind was Hayden. It made Luca angry and he wasn’t the only one. Ilya seemed to be acutely aware of it as well. 

Luca couldn’t take his eyes off of Shane as they lined up for the national anthem. His face was expressionless. It was almost like he was staring straight through them and if Luca didn’t know any better then he would’ve thought that Shane was just focussed on the game. But Luca could tell that he was nervous, the only tell-tale sign being the way that he rhythmically tapped his helmet against his thigh. The rest of his men looked angry as they waited for the anthem to finish playing over the speakers, their eyes shooting daggers over at the line of Centaurs players to Luca’s left. 

He looked sideways at his own line of men and suddenly felt a sense of pride overcome him as they all held their heads high, glaring back at the Voyageurs with an equal level of intensity. They were angry. Ready. They were prepared to do the only thing they could do to honour Shane. They were going to win this series and embarrass the Voyageurs on their home ice.

The third and final contributor to the weird energy of this game was the burly defenseman staring Luca down from the other blue line. This would be the first time that Luca played against Comeau since he’d laid him out on the ice just a few months ago. Luca had changed a lot since that game—since the concussion that put him on injury reserve for a few weeks—and while he was definitely nervous, he was also excited. Sure enough, when the anthem was over and the Bell Centre erupted into a cacophony of cheers, Comeau quickly found his spot at center ice.

Luca held his chin high as he skated over. He looked straight past Comeau at where their goalie, Drapeau, was doing his final warm-ups for the game. That’s where Luca would be spending most of his game; right by the goalie, sinking shot after shot, and making the Voyageurs walk out of their own barn with their egos deflated. 

“Goodluck, kid.” Comeau spat at the ice right in front of Luca’s skate.

There was no ingenuity to the statement so Luca ignored him, keeping his eye on Ilya’s right-hand side for the puck to come flying at him any second. 

The first game was tough to say the least. Comeau was always on Luca’s hip and he was playing dirty; throwing checks that were just admissible enough for the refs to ignore or sneering things under his breath in an attempt to get Luca riled up. Luca refused to play into it, reminding himself that with every dirty play Comeau attempted, he would retaliate with skill. 

“Beat him where it matters,” Ilya had reminded him during one of their shifts on the bench, “On the scoreboard.” 

Luca had smirked, “Right, I’m sure you’ll be doing the same and staying out of the penalty box for the whole series.”

Ilya just grinned. 

Luca wasn’t the only one fending off cheap shots. The Voyageurs came out swinging, finding ways to check their guys into the boards or throw an elbow out without caring where it would land. It didn’t take long for Ilya to get into a situation, himself.

After a particularly nasty hit in the second period, he had Berkes pressed against the glass, a fistful of his jersey in one hand. The two of them were sneering at one another as Ilya pressed him harder into the boards. Guys from both lines were all gathered around, just holding onto one another in case things escalated. The refs, for one, did not want that to happen. The fans on the other hand? They were going ballistic behind the glass.

Luca had one arm wrapped around Comeau’s neck from behind as he kept taunting Troy about his coming out post. It wasn’t like Troy couldn’t take care of himself—Luca knew firsthand just how much he could—but Comeau was being a piece of shit and Luca was growing tired of it. Just as Troy was shaking Comeau’s hands off of him, someone yanked Luca away by the scruff of his jersey.

“Hey! What the fu—” He turned around, ready to start swinging when he saw Wyatt. He immediately stilled and let himself be dragged away like a scolded puppy.

“You just stay over here with me.” Wyatt said quietly to him as he dragged Luca further away from the scrum.

“But he was talking shit about Harris—”

“I know, I heard him,” Wyatt reassured him. He only let go of Luca’s jersey once they were safely back in his crease, “But we don’t need you getting hurt. We need you to score goals. Roz would agree with me.”

Luca glanced over at where Ilya was still holding onto Berkes’ jersey, even as Shane tried to defuse the situation between them. Berkes had a shit-eating grin on his face as he told Ilya to be a good boy and listen to his boyfriend. Even from where they were standing, Luca could see the way that Ilya was chewing furiously on his mouthguard. He threw out a chirp of his own and with one final shove, he finally skated away. When Ilya saw that Wyatt had pulled Luca away from the group, they exchanged a nod with one another—a silent acknowledgement that made Luca huff. 

“I can take care of myself.” He grumbled to Ilya as they made their way over to the bench.

“I know you can,” Ilya nudged him, “Doesn’t mean you have to though.”

That seemed to be the general vibe for each of the seven games they played; rough, sneaky, and with an undertone of homophobia that had the Centaurs fired up in a way that Luca had never seen them before. For the most part, Comeau hadn’t phased Luca. He was playing dirty, but what Comeau had on Luca in brutality, Luca countered with talent. He’d managed to force the inside drive as much as he could, scoring a couple goals of his own in the first two games of the series. After one particularly rough charge at the net, which had Comeau slapping at his ankles with his stick, Luca managed to poke the puck just under Drapeau’s pad. It wasn’t a beautiful goal by any means but Luca still turned on his heel and blew a kiss at Comeau. When Comeau charged at him, Troy immediately intercepted it, starting a fight that put the both of them in the penalty box for the final minutes of the game. 

In between games, Luca tried to rest-up as much as possible. Turns out Ilya was right; playoff hockey was different from regular season hockey. The series had Luca sleeping a lot more, shovelling as much protein down his throat as he could, and rehabbing muscles that he didn’t even know he had. One afternoon when they were waiting on Ilya and Bood to wrap-up a captains meeting, Eric and Luca were lounging on one of the couches in the breakroom.

“You gotta see this,” Eric snorted as he sat up from where his feet had been perched in Luca’s lap, “Wait, are you still on your social media break?”

He asked the question very seriously, already turning his phone away from Luca like it might burn him to look at. Luca rolled his eyes and reached for it anyways.

“Just show me.”

And sure enough, it was an edit of every time Ilya and Shane interacted with one another on the ice the past few games. Some of the clips were funny, like Shane glaring at Ilya when he forced another, very obvious penalty against one of the Voyageurs’ players, and others were just fans making something out of nothing; insisting that Shane had ‘heart eyes’ for Ilya at one of their many face-offs. It made Luca laugh.

“Let me guess, there’s a million more of those floating around TikTok.”

“Oh, of course. The fangirls love Hollanov,” Eric smirked as he settled back into the couch and scrolled to the next video, “There’s a really good edit to a Megan Thee Stallion song if you want to see it.”

They spent the better part of an hour cuddling on the couch and scrolling through TikToks before Bood threw the door open, startling them both and causing Eric to drop his phone on the floor. They both froze, eyes wide as they stared at their vets standing in the doorway. It didn't help that their limbs were tangled together, Luca half on-top of Eric with his head tucked comfortably in the crook of Eric's neck. Ilya smirked.

“I don’t even want to know.” Bood groaned, already walking away.

“It's playoffs—we weren’t—” Luca tried.

“Come on, love birds.” Ilya cut him off, following Bood down the hallway towards the parking lot.

By the fifth game, when they were tied 2-2 in the series, Comeau started to figure out just how to get at Luca. He carefully watched him throughout warm-ups and managed to sneak over near the half-way line where Luca was stretching out his hips beside LaPointe.

“You know I’ve been doing some research.” Comeau started casually. He shuffled his skates back and forth as he scanned the Centaurs team like a hungry animal stalking their prey. 

“You know how to do that?” LaPointe asked without even looking up.

Luca snickered.

“It’s a shame,” Comeau continued, completely ignoring LaPointe, “I really thought you would be different.”

Luca furrowed his eyebrows. As much as he didn’t want to entertain this conversation, he couldn’t help but ask, “What does that mean?”

“You let the faggots get to you.” He said casually, already skating away from Luca.

“What the fuck, man?” LaPointe called after him, clambering to his feet. Luca instinctively tugged on the cuff of his jersey, preventing him from starting a fight before the puck even dropped.

“Just leave it.” He muttered under his breath. LaPointe frowned as Luca got to his feet, his balance slightly unsteady.

There was a ringing in his ears and he squeezed his eyes shut. Comeau’s words swirled around his brain like molasses. He suddenly felt quite cold and the intrusive smell of vodka filled his nostrils. Distantly, he could see blood—lots of blood, on knuckles, on the ground of a dark alleyway—and he couldn’t quite get a breath in no matter how hard he tried.

The horn blared overhead and Luca snapped to attention. He blinked a few times and the dark alleyway disappeared. Now the harsh overhead lighting of the Bell Centre stung his eyes and a very concerned LaPointe skated a bit closer to him to grab his forearm. 

“Haasy? Haasy, can you hear me?” LaPointe repeated warily. His eyes searched Luca’s own, trying to get a read on the boy. 

“Yeah, sorry. I’m okay.” Luca shook his head to clear it of any remaining fog.

“Just ignore him. He isn’t worth it.” LaPointe insisted.

He nudged Luca’s elbow as they followed the rest of their teammates off the ice. As Luca fell into stride behind LaPointe, he couldn’t help but glance over at where Comeau was. He was lazily skating towards the Voyageurs tunnel but his eyes were locked on one person and one person only. 

Eric.

When Luca took the ice for the first shift, Comeau was nowhere to be found. Instead, a defender from their second line came to stand beside him for puck drop, the same defender that usually paired up against Eric on the second line. Luca had a sinking feeling in his chest the whole shift, his thoughts dragging him elsewhere as he tried to push through his two minutes on the ice. His suspicions were confirmed when they finally changed over lines and he helplessly watched Eric take the ice against Comeau for the first time.

For the whole shift, Luca watched with baited breath every time Comeau and Eric interacted with one another. Comeau was on him, always right behind him during a stoppage in play, sneering something under his breath. It made Luca’s stomach twist.

When the shift came to an end and Eric found his way back to the bench, Luca was already on his feet.

“Move. Move. Move.” Luca barked as he shuffled down the bench to where Eric had taken a seat. He squirted some water into his mouth just as Luca popped down beside him. 

“Good shift, Haasy.” He said breathlessly.

“I need you to keep an eye out for Comeau.”

“Wha—”

“Just promise me you won’t lose sight of him.” Luca pleaded.

Eric carefully placed the water bottle back on the ledge and turned his full attention to him. He patted Luca’s thigh twice.

“I won’t, don’t worry,” He smiled before turning back to watch the game, “Cut in on the inside. I remember.”

Luca gulped. He hoped that would be enough.

The game was a wash. Every time Luca was on the ice, his mind was elsewhere—he missed passes, forced turnovers, made stupid mistakes—and every time Eric was on the ice, he felt sick to his stomach, just waiting for Comeau to try something. He couldn’t catch a break for the whole game. At one point, Luca asked—no, more like demanded—that he be pushed to the second line which Coach shut down with a pointed look and no further comment. Then Ilya pulled him aside during the intermission to ask what had gotten into him. He didn’t have much of a leg to stand on though seeing as the whole team was playing like shit.

By the third period, they were losing 6-1. It was the final 30 seconds of the game when Eric had possession of the puck at center ice, holding onto it until the clock ran out. The Voyageurs were content with their win, skating lazily around their end and basking in the cheers of their fans. Bood wasn’t really paying attention, Wyatt’s head was hung low in his crease, and Dillon was bent over at the hips with his stick pressed tightly against his thighs. No one had their guard up, no one was taking these final seconds seriously. Well, no one except Comeau. 

To be fair to Eric, he had kept his promise to Luca; he’d never taken his eyes off of Comeau, not for longer than necessary. Every chirp under Comeau’s breath was met in equal measure with a chirp of Eric’s own (including a dead mom joke that had Luca’s brain spiralling for a whole new reason), and every dirty check was met with equal force. So when Comeau charged at Eric at center ice, when the game was practically over and everyone on the ice knew it, Luca’s heart lurched to his throat.

Eric’s head was tilted back towards the overhead clock. He was blissfully unaware of the defender that was charging at him at that very moment and the realization of that washed over Luca like a bucket of ice water.

“Eric!” He bellowed over the chanting Montreal fans. 

It felt like all of the air was sucked out of the room as the next scene unfolded in slow motion. 

By some grace of God, Luca’s voice carried over to Eric who turned to look at him with wide eyes. He looked so innocent, almost childlike, as he met Luca’s gaze. Luca was still yelling, something unintelligible but expressive enough as he tried to communicate that Comeau was coming for him. Eric snapped his head over to Comeau just in time to pivot away from where Comeau had every intention of running straight through him and instead tripped over Eric's skate. Comeau fell head-first towards the ice, his large limbs splaying out like a freshly born giraffe as he slid a few feet away from where Eric was still standing in shock at center ice.

Then he started laughing. Full-on, belly laughing at the defender as the horn blared overhead to signify the end of a shitty game. Eric really had no right to be laughing at a time like this, they had lost horribly, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself as Bood came to stand by his side, his eyes never leaving Comeau as he flopped over on the ice.

Comeau quickly scrambled to his feet and went to charge at Eric again, this time much angrier than before, but Bood quickly got in the middle of them.

“What’re you fucking laughing at, faggot?” Comeau sneered over Bood’s shoulder. Bood shoved at his chest.

“Watch it.” He warned. 

Bood wasn’t one to start a fight but he sure as hell would end one if he needed to. The rest of the guys on the ice drew in a little closer, just in case things got worse, but Eric was none the wiser. He dabbed at his eyes as he sobered up from his laughter, only meeting Comeau’s gaze for a moment before he loftily skated back over to the bench.

“You really seem to get a kick out of going after the rookies, eh?” He shrugged off his gloves as he drew closer to the bench where Luca could hear him better, “You should be careful, bud, some people might spread rumours that you’ve got a thing for kids.” 

Whatever Comeau decided to yell after Eric next wasn’t important to Luca as his boyfriend casually hopped over the boards to join them, finally safe from the erratic man. He sent Luca a playful grin that had his insides doing somersaults.

“You always have to have the last word, don’t you?” Luca smirked. 

There was a levity to his question that almost felt inappropriate given the nature of their loss and what it meant for the remainder of the series. It all fell to the back of Luca’s mind as Eric simply winked at him and fled down the tunnel without another word, leaving the refs and his linemates to deal with a belligerent Comeau back on the ice.

Game six was exhilarating. Luca skated out onto the ice with a newfound purpose—to avenge his team for the miserable loss they’d suffered the game before. He knew that Comeau would be waiting to get his revenge on Eric but Luca pushed that thought aside. He’d done his due diligence, explained to Eric that he needed to be extra careful, and made Bood promise to protect Eric at all costs. With his full trust in his teammates, Luca was able to lock in for their penultimate game in the series. He had only one thing on his mind. Winning.

Their home crowd was louder than usual as they took to the ice for puck drop. He could barely make out the words that Shane and Ilya were exchanging just as they got settled for the face-off. 

“Does the noise scare you?” Shane’s lips twitched into a small grin, “I know you’re not used to it.”

Ilya snorted, “This is nothing. Wait until we score.”

“Oh yeah? When’s that happening.” Shane challenged.

“Right now.”

Within a few seconds the puck was in Luca’s possession and he was darting down the ice. He moved like a man on fire, dodging past Hayden with a quick flick of his stick before he came face to face with JJ. He quickly passed the puck over to Troy who had assumed the same position they’d practiced many times the day before, who then passed it directly to Ilya at the top of the goalie crease. When his shot reflected off Drapeau's pad, Luca was there to swiftly slap it into the back of the net, making it 1-0 not even thirty seconds into the game.

Luca let out a primal yell as Troy slammed him into the glass, his mouth stretched into a wide smile. 

“Lets fucking go!” Troy grinned just as Ilya jumped into the mix, quickly followed by Dykstra and Chouinard.

“That’s what I’m fucking talking about!” Dykstra reached over the group huddle to rattle Luca’s helmet. 

“Let's keep going.” Ilya urged.

As he skated over to celebrate with the bench, Luca threw his arms up to get the crowd going even more than they already were. The sea of red and black jerseys roared impossibly louder in response and, just to be an instigator, he cupped his ear to the crowd. He couldn’t help but smile and point at the bench where Eric was standing between LaPointe and Holmberg, the three of them still shoving each other excitedly. 

Montreal didn’t make it easy for them but Ottawa ended up winning the game 4-3, with 2 of the goals coming from Luca himself. If that wasn’t something to be proud of then the fact that the Ottawa Centaurs, an infamously shitty team in the history of the league, had taken the number one team and defending MLH Cup Champions to the seventh game in the first round of the playoffs absolutely was.

Bood had that exact idea as he started yelling in the locker room.

“Eat shit, everyone!” He hollered as the guys all cheered around him. 

He kept going on about how Montreal was expected to get an easy sweep on them and that some sports gamblers were going to be especially pissed at this turn of events. Luca only let himself indulge in the celebrations for as long as it took to put on the red-plumed battle helmet before he quickly showered, answered some quick questions for the press, and made his way home with Ilya for an early night. 

By game seven Luca was fucking exhausted. His body felt like it was running on empty, his features a little more prominent with the weight he’d lost this far into the season, but he kept pushing. Even as they entered overtime, because of course they fucking did.

It was late into the sixth minute of overtime when Shane stole the puck off of Luca. He didn’t get far before Troy applied pressure, forcing him to spin around and pass it back to JJ, but Ilya was one step ahead. He intercepted the pass with ease and then he was off. Luca pushed to follow but Ilya was too far ahead. The only guy on the ice that could keep up was Shane, who was hot on his heels.

One minute Shane was slashing at Ilya’s skates trying to poke the puck away from him, the next he was tumbling to the ground. The breath caught in Luca’s throat as he watched Shane skid across the ice, and then he watched as Ilya buried the puck between Drapeau’s pads.

There was a half-beat of silence as the arena registered what just happened. Then Luca screamed louder than he’d ever screamed before. He ignored the burning sensation in his legs as he sprinted after Ilya, discarding his gloves and stick just before he jumped into Ilya’s outstretched arms. They collided with such a force that it nearly knocked the both of them over but their teammates were already there, holding the two of them steady as they jumped all around in excitement.

“You fucking did it, Ilyusha! You did it!” He yelled in Ilya’s face, cradling his head between shaky hands.

“We did it!” Ilya corrected with equal excitement. 

There was so much commotion Luca couldn’t even see straight. He was pulled into hug after hug until he felt familiar arms tug at his waist from behind. Eric pressed himself against Luca’s back and squeezed.

“You were so good, Haasy!” Eric beamed over his shoulder. Luca had half the mind to kiss him right then and there but the chaos of the group wasn’t enough cover something like that, so he settled for turning in Eric’s grip and pulling him into a bone crushing hug. He methodically squeezed Eric three times hoping that it communicated everything he couldn’t bring himself to say in that moment, and Eric squeezed back.

"We're going to New York, baby!" LaPointe yelled directly into their ear as he threw himself into their hug. The two of them just laughed and opened their arms for LaPointe to join.

The smile never left Luca's face as they lined up for handshakes. He was behind Bood, politely shaking each of the Voyageur’s hands and returning complimentary remarks as he went. Comeau didn’t even meet his gaze when they finally met and Luca tried his best to steal his expression as he stared the player down and squeezed his hand a little harder than the rest of his teammates. Serves him right for being such a fucking asshole. Karma’s a bitch, Luca thought to himself, as he moved onto the next player.

When he finally reached Shane, his smile faltered. Shane’s eyes were glassy as he approached.

“Can I?” Luca found himself asking. Shane gave a slight nod and Luca didn’t hesitate to pull him into a tight hug.

“You played amazing, buddy.” Shane murmured into his shoulder.

“Just trying to keep up with you, Shane.” He said earnestly. Shane sent him an uneasy smile as they pulled away, almost like he didn’t quite believe him. Luca tapped him on the chest twice, “Will I be seeing you later?” He asked quietly.

Shane’s eyes flickered further down the line where Ilya was being as professional as possible, shaking each of the Voyageur’s hands and congratulating them on a good season. Still, a small grin remained on his face, one that Luca might’ve been pissed off at had he been in the Voyageur’s shoes.

“Uh, I’m not sure.”

Luca nodded to himself. He had so much he wanted to say but he could tell by the way that Shane was shifting his weight from one skate to another that they should probably wrap this up soon.

“Well it was an honour playing against you this season.”

The smile that Shane sent him almost reached his eyes.

“Likewise, Luca. Good luck in New York.”

“Won’t need it. That dinosaur doesn’t know what’s about to hit him.” Luca grinned.

He didn’t really mean it, he actually really liked Scott, but he wanted to make Shane smile. When Shane let out a startled chuckle, Luca felt a swell of satisfaction rise up his sternum. 

“You’ve been spending too much time with him.” Shane’s eyes flitted back to his fiancé briefly.

Luca shrugged, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Neither would I.”

///

“You were so fucking sexy last night.” Eric whispered as he placed another open mouthed kiss on Luca’s neck.

Luca hummed, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, when you got that goal in the second? I had to hold myself back on the bench.” Eric growled.

He trailed open mouthed kisses down his neck then his chest, until he got to his stomach. Luca was already half-hard and as much as he would love to see where this was going, it was the playoffs and they had a pact.

“Eric.” Luca warned as he got to the waistband of Luca’s boxers.

Eric groaned and thumped his forehead against Luca’s stomach. He knew just as well as Luca did that "no sex during playoffs" was one of the cardinal rules of the MLH. Guys had been abiding by it since the start of the league; it was so serious that Wyatt held an intervention during one of their team meetings before the Montreal series even began.

"Absolutely no sex. Like, at all. I'm looking at you two." He'd raised his eyebrows in Luca and Eric's direction, which made Luca turn as red as a tomato as the guys snickered all around them. Coach Wiebe was even chuckling.

Eric took it in stride though, serving their goalie a mock salute and a cheeky grin.

Back in Luca's bedroom, Eric huffed, “I know. I know.”

His hot breath felt good against Luca’s pubic bone and he had to forcibly get out of the bed to stop himself from taking things any further. Eric flopped back into the messy covers and took a steadying breath. As Luca slipped on a pair of sweatpants he could see just how excited Eric was as well. What he would do to sink down to the floor and take Eric into his mou—

“Okay,” Luca clapped his hands once to stop that thought from going any further, “I’m going to go get a drink of water. You take care of that while I’m gone.”

He gestured vaguely to Eric’s situation as he pulled open the door.

“You suck.” Eric called after him. Luca poked his head back into the room with a playful grin.

“Unfortunately, I don’t.”

Eric threw a pillow over his face and groaned loudly into it as Luca pulled the door shut. He chuckled to himself as he walked over to the staircase. When he heard voices coming from Ilya's room, he paused. He half expected Shane to show up late last night after they got back, but the house remained silent long after they’d tucked in for the night. Still, he was hopeful to see Shane before their next flight, so when he heard Shane’s muffled voice from down the hall, Luca slowly walked towards it.

Shane sounded angry as Luca made his way over towards Ilya’s bedroom door which was slightly ajar. Luca pressed himself against the wall so that Ilya couldn’t see him as he listened. 

“I’m so fucking angry,” Shane huffed, “I don’t deserve this.”

His voice sounded small even through his frustration and Luca quickly realized that he must be on FaceTime. 

“You’re a free agent now. Get the fuck out of there. Go somewhere that will appreciate you.” Ilya insisted.

Luca knew that he shouldn’t be eavesdropping but something kept him in place as he heard Shane scoff on the other side of the call.

“Like where? Ottawa?”

Luca’s eyes widened. Ilya paused for a little too long, giving Luca’s blood pressure more time to pick up.

“I mean, I couldn’t. Could I?” Shane sounded uneasy but there was something there. Something that Luca could only describe as hopeful. His heart fluttered at the possibility.

“This is why you have an agent. Find out.” Ilya said casually.

Luca’s jaw dropped. He slowly backed away from the door when they started talking about logistics; something about a salary cap and how the Centaur’s roster was reaching capacity with the way they were headed.

Luca’s brain was fuzzy as he slowly made his way down to the kitchen. Shane Hollander. Playing on the same team as him. As Ilya Rozanov. On the Ottawa Centaurs of all fucking teams. His mind revelled at the possibilities; the power play line, centered by Shane and with Ilya as a winger, or maybe the opposite. Maybe he could even find a way on that line one day, when he worked a bit harder and got a bit stronger. Once he earned his stripes. He thought about the practices with Shane, the one-on-one coaching he could get that mirrored their time together on Christmas Day. He thought about Eric and just how much better he would be under Shane’s mentorship, how they would both learn so much from these legends that once lived on the walls of their childhood bedrooms. 

He wasn’t even sure how long he’d been standing at the sink, his glass of water overflowing steadily, when Eric finally joined him in the kitchen.

“Haasy?”

Luca jumped at the sudden noise. He cursed under his breath at the sight of his overflowing cup and he quickly shut the tap off, leaning over to carefully sip at the top of the cup until he could comfortably place it on the counter without spilling.

“Sorry.” He spluttered as he turned to Eric with as coy of a smile as he could muster, “Feeling better?”

Eric's eyes flitted between Luca and Anya, who had come over for early morning pats.

“Much," He smirked as he met Luca's gaze again, an eyebrow raised, "You?"

Luca averted his eyes back to his cup of water. He cleared his throat.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I'm totally okay. More than okay, actually." He stammered, looking anywhere and everywhere but at Eric's face, "Okay, um, I’m going to go shower and then maybe we can make some breakfast? I think we'll have to leave for the airport within the hour.” 

Eric knitted his eyebrows together as Luca quickly rushed by him, placed a parting kiss on his cheek, and then darted up the stairs. 

When he finally got back into his room he quickly closed the door behind him and pressed his back against it.

Shane. Ilya. Both playing for Ottawa. Both playing with him.

He couldn't help the grin that rose to his face.

"What the fuck is my life?" 

Chapter End Notes

I want y'all to know that I was thisss close to having Comeau lay Eric flat out on that ice but I am merciful and did not do that to you all :) ..... though I did write a whole scene about this that is now just sitting in my drafts waiting for something to be done with it soooo 👀

Also thanks to everyone who has been connecting with me on TikTok (@quietonthelake)!! I love reading your comments and talking over dms, so please head over there if you wanna chat!

We're getting to the end here, just have some loose ends to tie up and then were on our way towards the sequel yay

Chapter 36: Then It Was All Over

Chapter Notes

April 2021, Back and Forth from New York

The end of the season felt like it was dragging out. Between practices, the strenuous travel schedule, and the monotony of the press asking the same questions they’d been asking all season, Luca was a shell of himself. He was just going through the motions, trying to maintain his weight and his sanity. It didn’t help that they lost the first two games of their series against New York.

When they got out onto their home ice for game three, Luca tried his hardest to shake off the fatigue. It helped when he saw three familiar faces smiling down at him from the family section. David was wearing a Rozanov jersey and Yuna dawned a black and red sweater (ever loyal to the Voyageurs). Then there was Shane, who was wearing—

“Is that your jersey?” Eric came to an abrupt stop beside Luca whose jaw had fallen open at the sight. Shane just smiled and sent him a small wave which Luca returned after a moment's hesitation.

“It is.”

“Fucking crazy,” Eric exhaled, waving at the Hollanders as well, “I’m surprised he’s even wearing a Centaurs jersey. Sort of rubbing salt in the wound, no?”

A muscle in Luca’s jaw twitched as he thought about all of the allegations—that Shane had purposefully tripped on the ice so that Ilya could win—both within his locker room and outside of it. He wondered just how many new headlines would come from this image right now, of Shane wearing Luca’s jersey. Still, it wouldn’t be as bad as if it were a Rozanov jersey.

“Serves them right for turning on their Captain then.” He muttered under his breath just as Ilya skated up beside them.

“Young, are you drooling over my fiancé?” 

Luca rolled his eyes as Eric floundered.

“What the hell? No!” He shoved Ilya who just grinned back at him, “I was just complimenting his jersey.”

Ilya smiled up at the stands before he realized that his fiancé wasn’t wearing the Rozanov jersey that he’d gifted him before the game. 

“What the fuck?” He said to no one in particular. 

Shane was grinning down at them, his parents chuckling to themselves as they all watched Ilya’s dampened expression. It would make for a great TikTok clip, Luca thought to himself.

“Guess he has a favourite.” Luca teased as he skated past, patting Ilya on the shoulder patronizingly.

Luckily they won that game. 

Unfortunately, they lost the following two.

Luca had never felt as low as he did when the final seconds ran out on game five. The final buzzer blared and the Admirals flooded the ice in streams of red and blue. Luca came to a lazy stop as the celebrations grew before him. He could see the screaming fans, the guys all jumping on one another, and the strobe lights flickering every which way, but everything had gone silent. It was just him on that ice. Him and the sinking realization that his rookie season had come to an end. 

The rest of his teammates were over by the bench, all frozen like mannequins as they watched the Admirals celebrate. Ilya was leaning against the boards. His eyes never left Scott Hunter as he pulled Carter Vaughan into a bone crushing hug. Wyatt was watching everything unfold from a knelt position in his crease. Coach Wiebe was shaking hands with the rest of their coaching staff, thanking them for their hard work this season.

Eric was sitting at the end of the bench. His helmet had been discarded at some point and he was bent over so that his forehead was resting against his crossed arms on the ledge. Luca wanted to go to him but he couldn’t move. It felt like there was an immeasurable weight hanging off his shoulders. It tethered him to the ice like an anchor. If only he’d managed that goal in the second period then maybe—

A firm hand on his shoulder slapped that thought right out of his head. Wyatt had come up beside him with a solemn smile on his face.

“C’mon, kid.” He nudged him towards center ice. 

Slowly, one by one, the Centaurs dragged themselves out to centre ice to line-up for final handshakes. Scott Hunter was the first to meet Luca. He gave him a tight-lipped smile as he pulled Luca into a hug.

“You did good, rook. You should be proud of yourself.”

Luca couldn’t process much so he left it to the pleasantries, “Best of luck in the finals. You guys deserve it.”

When they pulled apart, Scott Hunter sent him an appreciative smile; one that clearly read through all of Luca’s emotions in that moment and knew exactly what they felt like. Luca found it oddly comforting.

“Will we be seeing you at the Awards?” Scott pivoted.

Luca blinked, “Uh, I’m not sure—”

“Rookie of the Year isn’t going to win itself,” Scott clapped him on the shoulder, “Oh and let me know about the players group! We’d love to have you.”

Luca’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion but before he could ask any further questions, he was already being pulled into the next handshake.

The rest of the Admirals were just as pleasant as Scott, all wishing him well and congratulating him on a fantastic season. Luca couldn’t remember much of what was said once he got through the line, he was just focussed on not crying. Only when he got back to the locker room did he slump down in his stall and put his head in his hands. That’s when the tears started.

The guys all filed in one after the other. They were so silent that Luca almost didn’t notice them. It had been a long season and the team had been through a lot but throughout it all, the locker room had never been so quiet as it was now. Not even when they lost 7-2 early on in the season; Dykstra still had a stupid country song that brought everyone out of their funk. This was different, though. This was a hard loss for all of them. For a team that had become so accustomed to losing over the years, there was a newfound hope this past season—a hope that maybe things would be different. That they could be different. No one felt the pressure of that more than Luca himself.

There was a sigh from the front of the room. Luca didn't have to look up to know that it was Coach Wiebe.

“I’m proud of you guys.” 

The conviction in his voice was enough to kickstart a fresh wave of tears. Luca kept his head down.

“I’m so so proud of you,” He continued with a dry chuckle, wiping at his eyes for a second before he continued, “I’ve been with this team for three years now, some of you much longer than me. Bood, Choui.”

He paused so that the rightful respect was shown to some of the veteran players; like Bood, who had been drafted by the Centaurs as a rookie and stuck with them ever since. He believed in this franchise, even when they sucked. This year was supposed to be different though. He'd told Eric early on in the season that he really thought this year would be their year; that they could go all the way. Guilt coiled in Luca's stomach. Another tear slid down his cheek.

“We just made it to the second round of the playoffs. This organization has never done that before. That’s something to be proud of.” 

From beside him, Eric sniffled. Luca still couldn’t bring himself to lift his head up. 

“You can be sad. You can cry and grieve, but you can’t erase what we did out there. What we did together this season,” Coach Wiebe pointed out the door to really drive his point home, “—no one can take that from us. We have something in this room that a lot of teams will never have. We have a family. And I would choose that 100 times over before I would choose a Cup.” 

The room was still quiet when Coach Wiebe finished his speech but there was something new floating in the space above their heads that made it more bearable. They were sad but they were proud. They were together. Proud, sad, and together all at once. The flurry of emotions made Luca nauseous.

After another beat of silence he forced himself to wipe his eyes and peel off his sweaty gear. It would take him a long time to get over this feeling. As he went through the motions of his post-game routine, he tried to remind himself that next year was their year. 

He might not believe that now but he would. One day. That hope was all he had.

///

Ilya was a swirl of emotions on the plane later that night. He was tired from their long stretch in the playoffs, having not done it in a few years, and he was frustrated by the loss. He felt guilty as he watched each of his teammates board the plane. He wanted to commit their faces to memory—the sadness, the fatigue, all hope lost to a tough 4-1 series against the Admirals. It would be good fuel for next season, he told himself as he tracked each teammates’ movement. It gave him something else to focus on besides the anxiety that was bubbling up in his stomach.

Something about this flight, even though they’d been on so many since the crash landing in January, was really getting to him. Maybe it was because he could finally stop. Just sit in it. Really let himself feel it all. Maybe it was because he was exhausted and couldn’t be bothered with the deep breathing exercises Galina taught him in one of their early sessions. Maybe it was because the drugs she'd prescribed him for this very reason hadn't hit his bloodstream yet. Whatever it was it fucking sucked and he needed it to be over with.

The anxiety gave way to a whole new stream of thoughts that he'd been pushing down for quite some time. No matter what he did—get engaged, start a new family, get a dog, play for a team that loved him as he was—it would never fill the deep pit of sadness inside of him. That feeling still gnawed at him; the emptiness, the loneliness. He wanted to disappear. If only the ground could open up and swallow him whole. Gone would be Ilya Rozanov, Russian-born hockey phenom that was amazing in his prime, not so much in his final years. His country wouldn’t mourn him, nor would his family. Boston might hold a vigil, Ottawa too. His teammates would maybe be sad for a bit, same with the fans, but they would find another captain. Shane would never forgive him, though. Neither would Luca. Svetlana, Yuna, David. He suddenly felt guilty for a whole new reason and so he turned his attention again to the door where his teammates were still slowly filing onto the plane.

When Luca finally appeared he had his hood pulled up protectively over his head. He kept his head low but Ilya tracked his movements all the way down the aisle; the hunch of his shoulders, the way he was fidgeting with his sleeves even with his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

Maybe it was his own neediness in that moment, maybe it was because Luca hadn’t said a single word since they’d gotten off the ice, but he reached out and caught Luca’s wrist just as he was walking past. Luca hesitantly met his gaze. His eyes were still puffy from crying and he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. He looked so young. He is so young. Ilya's heart tugged in his chest.

He moved his backpack from the seat beside him and placed it on the floor. Without a word, Luca fell into the seat and curled into himself. Ilya rubbed a reassuring hand up and down his back as he silently cried. They sat like that until the plane started towards takeoff and Ilya pulled Luca into his side. He fell asleep shortly afterwards with his cheek pressed against Luca’s head. 

It was nearly two in the morning when they finally pulled up to the house. Luca quietly got out of the car and trudged his way up to the porch where Shane and Anya were waiting. Ilya just sat in the driver's seat, key still in the ignition as he watched Shane pull Luca into a hug. He was whispering something to him as Anya patiently waited for them to detach themselves from one another. Shane cupped Luca on the back of the head and he nudged him inside, Anya following along, blissfully unaware of the emotions Luca was carrying with him. 

Only when Shane finally looked at Ilya did his emotions finally brim over. The first tear fell, followed quickly by another as Shane rounded the car. His expression was soft as he carefully opened the door.

“Oh baby.” He gently undid Ilya’s seatbelt and pulled him out of the car. Ilya let himself fall into Shane’s tight embrace. He grasped at the back of Shane’s shirt and sobbed into his shower. 

“I know, Ilyusha. I know,” Shane whispered into his hair as he combed his fingers through it, “You’re home now. You’re safe.” 

Shane held him as long as Ilya needed and with how the season had gone, there were a lot of pent up tears. At some point, Shane reached around him and pulled the key from the ignition. The soft hum of the car fed into an unnerving silence as Ilya sobered up. Once he settled into hiccups, Shane gently redirected him to the house while he grabbed their bags from the trunk. Ilya wanted to help but his exhaustion betrayed him. His arms were about as useful as pool noodles so he defeatedly made his way over to the front door. When he stepped over the threshold and Anya came to greet him, he knelt down with open arms. She jumped up and kissed his tear-stained cheeks. It brought a tiny smile to his face. 

“She’s missed you.” Shane smiled down at them.

“I missed you too, Malyshka. Were you good for Shanya?”

“She’s surprisingly easy to take care of.”

“Because she is the best.” Ilya rubbed a trembling hand down her back.

He was suddenly overcome by a savoury smell. It was familiar.

“Did you make something?” He asked, dumbly. 

“Pelmeni.” 

The tips of Shane’s ears turned red as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Ilya’s lip quivered. 

Pelmeni. Ilya's favourite comfort food.

“Ya tebya lyublyu.” He choked out.

Shane held out a hand to pull him to his feet which Ilya took gladly.

“Maybe hold off on that until you taste it,” Shane insisted. Ilya chuckled and leaned in for a quick peck before Shane nudged him towards the kitchen, “Come. It’ll get cold.”

///

The weeks following their loss were a bit of a wash. Ilya took the first week to recover; sleep, eat home cooked meals, watch stupid movies cuddled up with Shane on the couch. He returned to his regularly scheduled therapy session and started to process the grief that came with losing in the playoffs. By the second week, he slowly started to feel like himself again. 

Luca, on the other hand, barely left his room. He slept a lot and when he wasn’t sleeping, he was still in his room, headphones on so that he was lost to the world. Shane and Ilya tried their best to be there for him. They made him three meals a day and left them outside of his door for whenever he was ready. Ilya always felt a slight satisfaction when he saw an empty dish left out in place of a warm plate he’d left hours before. Sometimes he wasn’t so lucky and in those moments it took a lot of convincing from Shane to just let Luca process things as he needed to.

But by the end of the second week, they were getting worried. 

“Just, let me.” Shane insisted with a hand up as they approached Luca’s door. Ilya scoffed but followed closely behind him.

He knocked gently, “Luca?”

There was a grunt from the other side of the door. Shane took a deep breath as he pushed it open. The room was dark even though it was well into the afternoon on a sunny day. There was a collection of cups and mugs on Luca’s bedside table and his bed was a bit of a rat's nest but nothing compared to the thick smell of an unkempt teenage boy that emanated from the room. Ilya resisted the urge to gag. 

“Hey, we made lunch.” Shane continued, unphased.

Luca huffed and rolled over so that his head was covered by his pillow.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You have to eat, buddy.” Shane tried again.

“I said I’m not hungry.” 

The words came out a lot more clipped than Luca may have intended them to but Ilya didn’t care. He pushed past Shane and walked over to the curtains, throwing them open so that the natural sunlight lit up the room. He then whipped around and tore the covers off of Luca’s body. Luckily he was wearing a Centaurs sweatsuit.

“What the fu—?” 

“Okay, time to shower.” Ilya clapped his hands loudly. The abrupt sound made Luca flinch before a scowl took over his face.

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“Getting you out of this funk,” Ilya said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He eyed the mold growing in one of the mugs on the bedside table, “Literally.”

“Ilya.” Shane warned from the doorway.

“Get out of my room!” Luca exclaimed.

“Gladly,” Ilya started gathering cups into his arms, “I will take these downstairs. You will go shower, with soap please, and then you will come downstairs and we will eat together.”

Once his arms were full he left the room without another word. Behind him he could hear Shane quietly talking to Luca—perhaps playing ‘good cop’—but he soon joined Ilya downstairs, a basket of dirty clothes in hand.

“There was a better way to do that.” Shane said pointedly as he walked over to start the load of laundry. 

Ilya ignored him but when the shower above them sounded, he looked over at Shane with raised eyebrows. A silent, "I told you so." that had Shane rolling his eyes.

When they finally sat down to eat it was awkward. Ilya wondered if this is how both Shane and Luca felt when they sat down for their first meal together back in November. Ilya looked back on that memory fondly; he had been excited about it but the anxious energy bouncing between the two other men at the table could’ve powered a whole neighbourhood. That would be a stable source of renewable energy in this house, Ilya thought idly to himself, if only someone could figure out a technology for that. An investment opportunity to run by his financial advisor another time.

This meal was a bit different though. Shane moved with a calming energy, spooning some salad onto Luca’s plate and then Ilya’s. Ilya passed around the tray of sandwiches and when Luca didn’t reach for one, he placed one on his plate for him without a second thought.

Luca didn’t move to eat when they did, not even when Ilya nudged the bowl of chips closer to him. Doritos, his favourite, an intentional choice Ilya had made at the grocery store earlier that day. Instead, Luca just stared down at his cup of water in silence.

Shane covered his mouth with his hand as he chewed, “We were thinking of taking Anya to a trail after lunch. It’s nice out.”

Luca hummed noncommittally. 

“You should come.” He added casually, just in case it wasn’t obvious the first time around.

Ilya eyed Luca as he finally reached for his sandwich. He took a cautious bite but didn’t say anything.

“You are pale.” Ilya observed.

“Gee, thanks.” Luca chuckled bitterly.

“You need sun.”

“I don’t think—”

“You need sun. It’s decided,” Ilya waved him off as he took another bite of his sandwich, “We cannot send you home looking like this.”

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Luca’s chewing slowed. He carefully put his sandwich back onto his plate and then fell into a trance just staring at his cup again.

Shane glared sideways at Ilya. He widened his eyes at Shane as if challenging him to say something; as if he hadn’t just singlehandedly rage-baited the boy into saying his first words in weeks. Shane seemed to come to the same realization so he pressed his lips together in a firm line and turned to Luca again. 

“You can invite Eric if you want?” Shane suggested. 

Luca didn’t say anything.

“He’s worried about you.” Ilya said as he brushed his Doritos fingers against his pants.

“I just talked to him last night.” Luca mumbled.

“And Sophia?” Ilya prompted.

Luca sunk a little further into his chair. Ilya didn’t want to guilt trip him but Sophia had been texting a lot over the past two weeks. She was worried, understandably, and when she wasn’t getting answers from Luca himself, she started to reach out to Ilya. Then Shane. They reassured her that Luca would be alright; that it would take a bit for him to bounce back from this but she had nothing to worry about. They were taking care of him. Still, she texted everyday with the same questions. Ilya couldn’t blame her, even if her sibling concern was foreign to him.

“I think she’s excited for her move. She’s been texting with my mom a lot.” Shane took another bite of his salad, trying to bring a bit of levity to the conversation.

“And she’s valedictorian!” Ilya added with a proud smile. 

Luca’s lip twitched, “She is.”

“You’ll have to record her speech for us.” Shane smiled.

“I wish you guys could be there.”

Ilya’s heart clenched. He wanted so badly to be there too but they had so much to do with the foundation and their wedding that they wouldn’t be able to swing it. Ilya had half the mind to tell Shane and Yuna to take care of things while he made a quick trip to Switzerland but they were already so stressed that he felt guilty leaving them. Still, he felt horrible that he couldn’t be there for Sophia. Or for Luca, who he knew was feeling uneasy about the trip back home.

“You can call us whenever.” He insisted.

“Or text.” Shane quickly added. Luca simply nodded and took another bite of his sandwich.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes. Ilya could tell that Shane was wracking his brain for something else to talk about but Ilya didn’t mind the silence. If it’s what Luca wanted—if it’s what kept him at the table, at least—then he could bear it. Shane, not so much.

“We decided what we want to do for our bachelor party!" He blurted out.

“You want a bachelor party?” Luca cocked an eyebrow.

Shane smiled uneasily over at Ilya, prompting him to say something. Lucky for his fiancé, he had something in mind.

“We’re doing a joint one.” Ilya popped another chip in his mouth, “At the cottage.”

“Oh. That’s nice.”

“It is,” Ilya hummed casually as he reached for his diet coke, “But I’m going to need my best man to plan some activities for us.”

Shane couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he looked over at Luca. Ilya was doing a better job at hiding his own as Luca took a sip of water.

“I’m sure Cliff will come up with something good.” He said.

“No, Luca. I want you to be my best man.”

Luca choked on his water. He fell into a coughing fit as Ilya laughed at him. Shane kicked his foot under the table.

“Ilya,” Shane groaned disapprovingly even as a small grin crept onto his face, “You couldn’t wait until he was done drinking?” 

“Is funny.” Ilya shrugged as Luca collected himself. He was now a bright shade of red.

“You want me to be your best man?” He asked incredulously.

“That’s what I said, no?”

Luca smiled. A real smile, his first in weeks. 

“I would love to!”

“Good, because I wasn’t taking no for an answer.” Ilya chuckled. Luca looked down at his plate, a small smile still tugging at his lips as he tucked into his sandwich again. It made Ilya’s chest feel a little lighter.

“I’ll put you in touch with Hayden. He’s my best man so the two of you can organize the bachelor party together.” 

Ilya groaned.

“Hayden is going to make us do boring things like lawn bowling or…I don’t know, see who can apply the most sunscreen in a day.”

Luca chuckled.

“You’re going to have to be nice to him at some point.” Shane insisted.

“Never.” Ilya scoffed.

“Don’t worry, Ilyusha. I’ll talk to Eric and Troy, we’ll make sure it’s fun.” Luca promised. That satisfied him.

They talked more freely after that. About their summer plans, the camps, Luca’s plan to visit Eric’s grandparents in British Columbia. They talked about the wedding and whether they would have time for a quick honeymoon before training camp started up again in August. It felt good. Natural. And by the end of the meal Luca appeared visibly lighter.

He was more open to the idea of taking Anya to the trail and he even offered to buy them a coffee on the way; a thank you, Ilya suspected, for sticking with him the past couple of weeks. They would go to Tim Hortons, Ilya agreed, but they wouldn’t make Luca pay. That would be cruel. Besides, Shane was there. Shane didn’t appreciate that joke very much but when they pulled into the Tim Hortons drive thru, he reached for his wallet without a second thought. 

///

“You look very handsome.”

Luca whipped around to find Eric leaning against the doorframe. He was wearing a dark navy suit which looked expensive and clung nicely to his waist and thighs. Luca’s heart fluttered in his chest at the sight.

“Not as handsome as you.” He chuckled nervously as he turned back to the mirror to adjust his tie.

“Nonsense,” Eric insisted as he walked across the room and turned Luca around gently by the shoulders, “Let me.”

He took Luca’s tie from him and started looping it with ease. Luca took the opportunity to admire his boyfriend’s face. His warm eyes, his jawline which had been freshly shaved, the dimples that surfaced whenever Eric twitched his lips a certain way. He smelled like clean aftershave, one of Luca's favourite scents. Familiar, comforting. A sort of aphrodisiac that had Luca's cheeks growing warm. He settled his hands on Eric’s waist as he worked his tie.

Eric smirked as he flattened Luca’s tie against his chest.

“There. Very handsome.”

“Thank you.”

Eric studied his face for a moment.

“How are you feeling about tonight?”

“Nervous.” Luca admitted sheepishly.

“Why?” Eric massaged his fingers into Luca’s shoulders soothingly. Luca let his eyes flutter shut at the contact.

“I don’t know.” He sighed.

“There’s no reason to be. It’s just going to be the guys, the staff, their families. Everyone is safe.” He insisted with such reassuring confidence that Luca almost started to believe him.

“I know. It’s just…” He let the words hang in the air.

“Just what?” Eric nudged his chin so that Luca would open his eyes again. When he did, Eric was looking at him with so much care that it almost made Luca melt.

“Just weird to be done our first year,” Luca admitted. Eric nodded, encouraging him to continue, “Things are going to change. The summer is going to be weird without everyone and then training camp will be here before he know it, and we’ll have new rookies to look after, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that, and then—” 

“Okay, okay.” Eric massaged his hands into Luca’s shoulders again, working him down from the ledge he was steadily running towards, “One thing at a time. Okay?”

Luca let go of a shaky breath.

“Tonight is a celebration for everything we achieved this past year. We’re going to go see our friends, eat some food, drink some drinks, and then dance until our feet hurt.”

Luca suddenly felt nervous for a whole new reason. Eric must’ve sensed it because he quickly added, “And everyone is going to be so drunk that they won’t even see your horrible dance moves.”

“They aren’t that horrible.” Luca weakly defended himself. Eric snickered and eventually Luca did too.

“It’s going to be a fun night.” He insisted. Luca nodded, a little more convinced this time, as he let his eyes fall over Eric’s shoulder. 

He couldn’t quite believe where he was standing right now. If you’d told Luca from a year ago that one day he would be standing in his bedroom in Ilya Rozanov’s house with his very attractive Canadian boyfriend who just so happened to be his best friend and teammate, he wouldn’t believe you. So much had changed in the past year—heck, in the past nine months—that it sometimes made Luca’s head spin to think about.

His lips twitched at the thought.

“Can I show you something?” He asked after a moment.

“Of course.” 

Luca stepped around Eric and crouched at the end of his bed before he could stop himself. He flipped up his duvet and slid out the frame that had been hiding under there for months. It was the collage of Disney character drawings he’d been putting together for Eric. There were some loose drawings on top—torn out pages from his sketchbook, a Shoppers Drug Mart receipt, a flyer from the pottery painting place—that he’d been meaning to properly put behind the glass but never got around to. He turned to Eric cautiously.

“So I started making this last year, in September.” He started carefully, his hands shaking slightly, “And I wanted to give it to you but I didn’t quite know when. It’s not done, but—”

“Haasy, just show me.”

Luca watched Eric’s face as he slowly turned the frame to face him, careful not to drop the more recent additions laying on top. Eric’s jaw dropped.

“Is this—?” He placed a hand over his mouth as his eyes darted all around the collage, “Oh my gosh.”

Luca’s heart was pounding in his chest as he watched the mix of emotions flash across his boyfriend’s face.

“I know it’s not the best, but I figured—I don’t know. I just thought—”

“I love it!” Eric exclaimed with the biggest smile. He reached out and cupped both of Luca’s hands. He traced a reassuring thumb over Luca’s knuckles which were turning white from how hard he was gripping the frame.

‘“Really?” Luca asked hopefully.

Eric nodded excitedly, trying to collect himself as he finally met Luca’s eyes. 

“You’ve really been making this since September?”

Luca nodded, suddenly unable to form any words. The first Disney movie they’d ever watched together was Frozen, on their second night of training camp. Luca still hadn’t adjusted to the timezone and training camp made him exceptionally nervous, so he’d woken up early on the third morning. He found a Marriott branded pad of paper in the bedside table and just started drawing a quick sketch of Olaf. Eric was, of course, sleeping soundly beside him, his gentle snores providing a calming background for Luca's early morning endeavours.

At the time he didn’t know that one drawing would turn into two, then three, then more. He didn’t know it would turn into a collage for Eric. He didn’t know he would develop a crush on his best friend and that his best friend would feel the same way in return. He didn’t know they’d confess their feelings for one another in a random hotel room in Tampa Bay. He didn’t know they would get into a relationship, he didn’t know— 

“I love you.”

The admission brought Luca out of his spiralling thoughts. Eric was staring at him with so much love in his eyes and his thumb still tracing calming circles over Luca's knuckles. His heart kicked behind his ribcage.

“I love you too.” Luca said breathlessly. 

In an instant, Eric took the collage from his shaky hands and placed it on the bed. Then he pulled Luca into him by the collar of his suit jacket and crashed their lips together. Luca smiled into the kiss which made Eric start placing fervent kisses all around his face.

“I love you. I love you. I love you. God, I love you,” He punctuated each admission with a kiss. Luca giggled, “I’ve been wanting to say that forever.”

“Forever?” Luca teased when Eric pulled away just enough that he could look into his deep brown eyes again. 

“Forever.”

“I don’t think you wanted to tell me you loved me back in September. Or December, for that matter.” 

Eric rolled his eyes, “I think you grossly underestimate how badly I was crushing on you back then.”

“Hmmm, I don't know. I seem to remember you dating—" Eric cut off his teasing with another kiss. This one was more possessive, something that in any other moment would've led to something more. Luca pulled away with a grin plastered across his face. 

“I love you.” He slid his hands down Eric’s back until they rested on his hips.

“I love you more.”

“Okay, we’re not turning this into a competition.” Luca said exasperatedly.

Eric just giggled and pecked him again.

They only pulled away when Ilya yelled at them from downstairs that they were going to be late.

///

Luca sat at a round table with Eric, Bood, and Cassie, a centerpiece of beautiful red flowers carefully blocking his view from the rest of the room. The seat beside him was empty and Ilya was invited up to the stage for his final captain’s speech of the season. Luca positioned himself so that he could give his full attention toward the stage. He slung his arm to rest on the back of his chair, even if it was a bit tight with his suit jacket, and watched as Ilya positioned himself at the podium. He placed his phone down, took a couple of steadying breaths, and sent a charming smile across the room. 

Luca knew deep down, under Ilya’s outward confidence, that he was nervous about this speech. He’d come into Luca’s room many times over the past week to read him new blurbs that he’d come up with. One time Shane had to veto an inappropriate joke about how gay the league had become. That was putting it in nice terms; the joke was really about Roger Crowell turning over in his grave. Oh wait! He's not dead yet? Guess those hit men weren't as good as I thought they were. Luca also vetoed the joke as he stifled a laugh into his hand. Suffice to say, Luca was also a bit nervous about Ilya's speech. But now, as the team and their families sat around the large banquet hall and waited to hear their captain’s final words of the season, Luca was excited. And proud, very proud. He sent Ilya a quick thumbs up just as he got settled.

Ilya cleared his throat and leaned into the mic with a shit eating grin, “So, how about that Cup, eh boys?”

The room bubbled with laughter. Ilya just smirked behind a cold glass of water as he took a careful sip of it.

“No, I kid. I kid,” He silenced the room with raised hands, “Maybe one day.” 

Luca beamed at the thought of their next season. The whole team was excited. There were rumblings around the league that Shane was looking to leave the Voyageurs and while nothing had been settled, it didn’t take a genius to put two-and-two together. It was only a matter of time before the contract was signed, even if Shane thought he was being coy about it all. Luca tried not to let himself get too excited about their next season as he waited for Ilya to continue.

“I want to start by saying how grateful I am for this team. This family.” He quickly corrected himself.

“Awwww.” Bood’s voice echoed loudly throughout the room. 

“Shut up, Bood, I’m trying to be serious.” Ilya snapped at him. People around the room giggled and Bood raised his arms in surrender. Cassie just rolled her eyes from beside him. Luca’s face was hurting already from the smile that was permanently etched there.

“I’m serious. The past few years spent here in Ottawa have been some of my favourite. For reasons that lie outside of this room,” He chuckled under his breath, “But also for many reasons that lie within it.”

His eyes rose from his phone to scan the room. 

“This year was not easy. Our team faced many challenges, both on and off the ice.” 

Luca’s eyes drifted over to where Eric was sitting. Eric was already watching him. He tipped his head ever so slightly with a warm smile. Luca tipped his head back. Just past Eric’s shoulder, at the table next to them, Harris rubbed a reassuring hand up and down Troy’s back. And just past them was Coach Wiebe whose wife had his arms wrapped around her almost in a protective manner as she leaned back against him.

“But through it all, we only got closer.” Ilya’s words snapped Luca’s attention back to the front of the room. 

“I have played in this league for many years; at least half of our rookies’ lives.” He quipped. Wyatt reached over from his families’ table and ruffled Luca’s hair. He pouted back at him as he quickly tried to fix it again. He’d spent a lot of time gelling it earlier that evening.

“I have played against all of the teams in this league countless times, and while I haven’t personally been in all of their locker rooms, I can confidently say there is no other team that comes close to what the Centaurs have built. A kind, welcoming, loving environment.” 

“That’s because of you!” Dykstra cupped his hands around his mouth so that the sound would carry around the room. Some of the other players and their wives agreed which made Ilya roll his eyes jokingly. He wouldn’t take the compliment even if you forced it down his throat.

“That’s because of us.” He corrected simply and took a moment to look around the room filled with all of the players and staff for the team. It really was one big family, Luca thought to himself. He suddenly wished that his own family could be there. He swallowed back any emotions that came with that realization.

Ilya continued, going into specific memories from the season, including the time that Eric and LaPointe completely covered Chouinard’s car in sticky notes. They’d asked Luca to help but he knew better than to mess with a French man’s temper; he was silently thankful he’d declined their offer because at the next practice, Chouinard forced the pair to skate suicides until LaPointe threw up. Then Ilya went into some key statistics for the year, including Wyatt’s notable shut-out streak at the mid-point of the season. He jokingly apologized to Wiebe for the extra grey hair that he’d gained since Ilya joined the team. He raised a glass to Harris who not only made the boys look good but also feel good, which had Harris teary eyed. He thanked Dr Terry for always having the best drugs, which made everyone laugh, and then he got more personal.

“I would like to take a moment to thank my own family who couldn’t be here tonight.” Ilya pressed his lips together. 

Luca's heart ached for Ilya. He’d overheard him arguing with Shane earlier that week about the banquet. He’d understood Shane’s argument that he didn’t want to overshadow Ilya’s moment and then empathized when Ilya countered that he wanted Shane there to support him. He heard how tired Ilya’s voice was when he said later on that they didn’t have to hide anymore. Somehow they’d come to the decision that Ilya should do this alone. Well, with Luca by his side, Shane had stated near the end of the argument.

“To Yuna and David, who have only shown me love since moving to Ottawa. And to Shane, for pushing me to be my best, always. To Anya who has brought me so much joy these past few months,” He paused to take a shaky breath, “And to my mother, komu ya vsem obyazan.” Even though no one in the room could understand him, they understood the sentiment.

“And finally, to someone who I can actually thank in-person, Luca.” 

Luca's eyes widened as the whole room turned towards him. Ilya held his gaze from across the room and he sent him a reassuring smile. Luca tried his best to focus only on Ilya’s next words and not on the anxiety that grew in his gut.

“Cheering you on from the sidelines this past year has been such an honour. You aren’t just growing up, you are growing out, and to have even been a small part of that is so special. So, thank you.” Ilya nodded in his direction.

Luca’s eyes watered. Wyatt squeezed his shoulder and he could feel Cassie rubbing his back from behind him. He couldn’t meet Ilya’s gaze, too afraid that the tears would fall if he did. He looked down at his fidgeting hands and a single tear escaped his eye.

As if Ilya could read his mind, he continued with a cheesy grin, “Sometimes you piss me off when you leave your teabags out on the counter, but still.” 

Luca let out a watery laugh. The room chuckled as well, taking some of the pressure off of the situation.

“I know the season is done but you are welcome in our home for as long as you want to stay. And even long after that.”

And Luca believed him.

Ilya raised a glass to the whole room, “My Centaurs family, ya tebya lyublyu. Cheers.”

A chorus of cheers were called out around the room and everyone took a sip of their drinks. A dull chatter broke out across the banquet hall and Luca dabbed at his eyes with his napkin. He got up, straightened out his suit jacket, and walked over towards Ilya who was being hugged by each of his teammates as he walked back from the stage. He beamed at Luca as he approached.

“Was it good?” He asked, referring to his speech.

Luca just ignored him and crashed into him with a thud that caught Ilya by surprise. He immediately hugged him back, arms tightly clasped behind Luca’s back. Luca tucked his head into the older man’s shoulder and didn’t care when he saw a few tear drops fall onto the grey fabric of Ilya’s suit.

“Thank you,” Luca murmured into Ilya’s shoulder, “For everything.”

He stepped back and Ilya stared at him like he held all the answers to the world's problems in his eyes. He cupped a hand around Luca’s neck and brought their foreheads to rest against one another. It was a silent acknowledgement of Luca's gratitude; that Ilya felt the same way in return. They stood like that for a few moments, just the two of them alone, even in a room full of people. 

The moment was only broken when Bood called out for a group hug and their teammates surrounded them instantly. The group of men stood together for what felt like forever. Luca felt safe here in the middle of his team; a group of strangers that turned into the best family he could’ve ever asked for. 

He thought back to his first few weeks of training camp. About how nervous he was and how he would flush at any good-natured chirp that came his way. He’d come a long way since then and that was because of the men that stood around him. He wasn’t quite sure what would come next for them but in that moment he didn’t care. He just let himself be held tightly but the people who loved him most. 

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter End Notes

Hello everyone!!

We've officially reached the end of Growing Outward... Wow, I cannot believe this.

I started this fic as a bit of a passion project back in January just to get back into writing and have some fun with the characters I fell in-love with while reading/watching HR. I never, ever in a million years would've thought that this would turn into a fic that thousands of people have read!

To everyone who has read, left a kudos, bookmarked, commented on, or even shared this fic with others, thank you! Your support and kindness have meant the absolute world. I am so happy that you all love these characters and this story as much as I do!

While I'm sad that this fic has come to an end, you can't get rid of me just yet! I'm gonna take some time to re-read this fic, make some minor edits (since I don't have a beta reader and I already know there's so many mistakes lol) and get to writing the sequel, which I already have so many fun plans for. Fret not, we will see more of Luca, Eric, Shane, Ilya, and the rest of the guys shortly! Be sure to subscribe to get notified when that is posted.

 

If you wanna chit chat or hang out in the meantime, you can find me on TikTok, @quietonthelake

 

Thank you again <3

 

All my love,

quietonthelake