Summary:

Ilya clenches his fists, jaw tensing and loosening around the words he wishes he could say. His brain is far too jumbled for basic English right now, let alone the words to explain just how much he needs to bury himself in the arms of the one person who understands. He can deal with the fallout tomorrow. He just needs…

A soft place to land.

LeClaire doubles down, shifting his stance to block Ilya’s path. “Your personal life is your own, Rozanov, but right now, your personal life is under a microscope. It’s not right, or fair, but think about that before you do something that lands you in even hotter water.”

“You mean the team,” Ilya grits.

“No.” His coach’s face softens. “No, that’s not important. I’ve known you for nearly a decade, Ilya. Take the bench for once. We’ll take care of you.”

But who will take care of Shane?

-

OR: Ilya gets outed, Shane comes up with a solution to keep him safe, and neither of them are happy.