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1
The mood in the locker room is celebratory, but not exuberant. They utterly destroyed the other team, but since that other team was the Ottawa Centaurs, it’s not like anyone views it as a particularly outstanding achievement.
“What the hell was Rozanov thinking joining them?” Comeau says. “They’re fucking shit.”
Next to Hayden, Shane flinches.
“He lost his fucking marbles,” Drapeau. says. “Or maybe he figured he’d get more attention going to a shit team. He’s stupid enough to believe that.”
“He’s such an arrogant piece of shit,” Comeau says. “I can’t tell you how fucking happy I am seeing his team get slaughtered like that.”
Hayden throws a quick look at Shane that he hopes is showing empathy and solidarity. Going by the pained look on Shane’s face, it’s not helping.
“Rozanov is probably blaming it on them,” Drapeau says. “Right now, giving them a speech telling them they’re shit. I mean, they are shit, but he should take responsibility.”
Hayden has a sudden, vivid memory of his most annoying cousin’s wedding. Of overhearing some aunt calling Jackie’s beautiful dress trashy when she thought Hayden was out of earshot. Hayden was able to stand up, tell her to go fuck herself, and dance with his stunning wife, throwing their happiness in everyone’s faces.
Shane’s lips are pressed tight, his eyes down, his shoulders hunched. In this room, Shane can’t say any of the things that he probably is desperate to say right now. Shane can’t say anything about the guy he loves in any room anywhere at all.
“They’re not that shitty,” Hayden hears himself say before he can realise what a phenomenally bad idea this is. “Rozanov is already improving them. He played as best he could with that team.”
All eyes turn to him, including Shane’s.
“Um,” J. J. says after a moment of silence. “What?”
“Yeah, what the hell?” Comeau echoes. “Since when do you go around defending Rozanov?”
“I – I’m not,” Hayden says, starting to carefully fold his clothes so he doesn’t have to look anyone in the eye. Maybe Shane is onto something, always folding his things instead of throwing them into his bag. Gives you a moment to concentrate on something manual, to think before having to respond to questions and comments.
“You literally were defending him right now,” J. J. points out.
Hayden scrambles for an explanation. “I meant, the Centaurs don’t suck as much as they used to, and, yeah, Rozanov’s an asshole but he seems to be doing good as their captain.”
“Is this some sort of alternate reality?” Drapeau asks. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Nothing!” Hayden says. “I don’t like him! I hate him same as you guys! I’m only saying that he probably had his reasons for moving, and he’s clearly doing what he can to win games for them.”
“Oh my fucking god,” J. J. says.
Unfortunately, Hayden is kind of on a roll right now. It feels like an out-of-body experience. But he has to say all this, for Shane, who can’t say it himself. “And, and, back when Shane was hit that one time, he went to see Shane in the hospital.”
“Probably was trying to finish the job,” Comeau says.
“Come the fuck on,” Hayden says. “You all know that was a decent thing to do.”
“I guess it was,” J. J. says, furrowing his brow. “Still. Not like it was a huge effort for him.”
Actually, knowing what he knows now, what a risk it was for Rozanov to go see Shane back then, probably terrified of both options – not getting to see Shane at all or going to see him at the risk of being outed – Hayden can’t imagine how much that day must have taken out of Rozanov.
“Okay, well, whatever,” Hayden mutters, zipping his bag shut. “I was just saying.” He finally meets Shane’s eyes, worried what he’s going to see. He probably made things worse. But Shane gives him a tiny smile and, when no one’s looking, mouths thank you.
Once Hayden and Shane have headed out and no one can hear their conversation, Hayden grabs Shane’s arm. “You are never, ever telling him about this. Swear it on the Stanley Cup.”
“I don’t swear on the Cup, but I’ll do my best.” Shane says. He seems to be standing up straighter than back in the locker room, like some sort of weight has been lifted off his shoulders.
“Not good enough. I’m gonna need a blood oath from you on this, I think,” Hayden says, bumping Shane’s shoulder with his.
Shane laughs, and races him to the car park like he used to when they were younger.
2
When Shane texts on a Saturday evening whether Hayden wants to hang out, Hayden is not exactly worried. Only slightly concerned, because Shane drove to Ottaway yesterday, and Hayden didn’t expect him back for another day.
He text back a cheerful sure buddy, come to my house and Jackie’ll make you bird food. Shane just texts his ETA, nothing else. Which, okay. Shane has never been an excited texter. It’s probably all fine.
Once Shane shows up at the house, his eyes red and his shoulders dropping, that’s when Hayden starts to worry. He sits Shane down on the couch, gives Jackie a look that she telepathically understands to mean we need to talk instead of eating no offence I love you I’m sure the food is fantastic.
Jackie hugs Shane, announces that she forgot she needs to update her pilates group’s class schedule real quick, and ducks out of the room. If Hayden could propose all over again, he would.
“I thought you were going to stay in Ottawa until tomorrow,” Hayden says, dropping down onto the sofa next to Shane. Might as well jump right in.
“Ilya and I had a fight,” Shane mumbles.
“Oh,” Hayden says, instantly feeling unqualified for this conversation. He’d hoped it was something easier, like Shane’s non-existent dog dying. If it’s a fight with Rozanov, and a bad enough one that Shane voluntarily wants to talk about it, it must be above what Hayden is equipped to deal with. “Um. Okay. What – what did you fight about?”
Shane sighs. “He bought all this stuff for us to cook.”
“Right,” Hayden says. “Well, you guys like cooking together, right? You do that a lot, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Shane says. “We used to. It’s more difficult now, because we eat differently.”
Ah. Of course, Shane’s weird diet. “You can make an exception for a date night, though. Jackie does that when she diets.”
“Jackie’s not a pro athlete,” Shane says. Which, rude. Hayden has seen Jackie do her pilates, and it looks insane. But now is not the time to say shit like that.
Shane scrubs a hand across his face before he continues. “Anyway. He’d bought all these ingredients and he was – fuck, he was excited about it, and it’s been a few weeks since we’ve seen each other. But I – it was a lasagna recipe. And I can’t just eat fucking lasagna. So he wasn’t even thinking about what I could eat on my diet. And then he got on my case about it, saying I could make an exception and eat a little bit, and I tried to explain that that’s not an option, and he wouldn’t accept that. So yeah, we had a fight about it.”
“Well,” Hayden says, as gently as he can. “Shane, man, maybe he has a point.” It’s not like Hayden enjoys agreeing with Ilya Rozanov, but anyone who knows Shane can tell his dieting has been getting out of hand.
“I – what?” Shane asks, staring at Hayden like he’s lost his mind.
“You, um. You’ve always been healthy, but it seems like you’ve been getting a lot more strict lately.”
“I’m getting older,” Shane says. “I want to keep playing at my best. I have to take care of my body.”
“Yes,” Hayden says. “I get that, I do, but it sounds like he wanted to do something nice for you.”
“Or maybe he was being a dick because I give a shit about my health instead of being relaxed about junk food,” Shane mutters.
“I don’t think he was. I think he’s worried about you.”
“Why would you think that?” Shane is frowning.
Hayden swallows hard. “Because he’s not the only one.”
“What do you mean?”
“I -” Hayden isn’t sure how to phrase what he wants to say. Fuck. He goes for, “You know, Jackie told me that she has a friend with an eating disorder -” It’s the wrong thing, it’s the fucking worst thing to say. Hayden can tell immediately from the look in Shane’s eyes.
“Fuck you, I don’t – it’s not a fucking eating disorder,” Shane says. He sounds winded. “What the fuck, Hayden?”
“Sorry,” Hayden says hurriedly. “I didn’t mean it like that.” The last thing he wants is for Shane to feel like he can’t talk to him about this.
“Fuck,” Shane says again, wiping at his eyes. “Just because Ilya doesn’t take care of his own fucking health -” He trails off, tears running down his face. “He still smokes sometimes, what if he gets cancer or something? I can’t fucking – I can’t lose him, Hayd, I can’t. I wish he’d worry more about this kind of thing.”
“Okay,” Hayden says. “And it sounds like he wishes you would worry less. So why don’t you both, I dunno, try to meet in the middle?”
“It’s not that easy,” Shane says. “I can’t change how I – it is how it is, now.”
“Okay,” Hayden says again. “Okay, Shane.” He wants to say I’m here for you, whatever you need, but the only person he knows how to say sentimental shit like that to is Jackie.
Shane’s phone buzzes on the table, and Shane jumps on it like a fucking grenade. “Ilya? Ilya, I’m so - ”
Hayden can hear Rozanov’s voice on the other end. He strains to hear whether Rozanov is trying to continue the fight, because that is not what Shane needs right now, but he can’t hear his voice clearly enough. Shane wipes his sleeve across his eyes, sniffling, listening to whatever Rozanov is saying.
“No,” Shane eventually rasps. “It was me – I’m so sorry, Ilya -” He adds something in what Hayden assumes is Russian.
Rozanov interrupts him. Shane sort of curls over on himself on Hayden’s couch, phone pressed to his ear. After a minute or so he chokes out more Russian, then adds, “I love you, too. I wish I’d stayed.”
Hayden’s heard enough. He gets up and leaves the room. Maybe Jackie can use his help with the class schedule. Sometimes she lets him pick out the colour scheme.
3
Hayden has the day off, which means he surprised Jackie with breakfast in bed, got the kids ready for school all by himself, shopped for groceries, and then drove back to school to pick up Jade and Ruby. He felt incredibly competent all morning and it was fucking awesome, especially because he knows that Jackie gets turned on when he is good at this kind of family organisation thing.
Truthfully, he has been needing to keep busy, because he keeps thinking I fucking destroyed Shane’s life, I’m the worst person in the world, he will never forgive me. So it’s nice to feel like he can still do some things right, even if they’re small, and that his wife would be proud of him for it.
Fortunately, Jackie can’t see him right now as he stands outside the school gates. The feeling of competence has gone down the drain because Amber is wailing and Arthur looks like he does when he is about to break down, and Jade and Ruby are nowhere to be seen. They should be easy to spot because Hayden let them pick their own clothes this morning, and they decided to go for a colourful mix of pinks, yellows, and greens.
“Hayden, right?” a voice says next to him.
“Yes?” he turns towards the women who spoke. She seems vaguely familiar.
“Jeanette, Lara’s mom,” she says, beaming at him. “We’ve met at a few school events. I’m on the school council.”
“Right, hi,” Hayden says. He always feels out of his depth interacting with other parents at school. Jackie is much better at that. But to be honest, Jackie is better at most things.
“How are you?” Jeanette asks. She sounds very concerned for some reason.
“I’m good?” Hayden says. It comes out as a question instead of a statement. Does Jeanette think he’s ill or dying or hungover or something? “How are you, um, yourself?”
She ignores his question, and says instead, “It must be tough, but please know that all of us parents here think you did the right thing.”
“I – sorry,” Hayden says. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“The video,” she says, and Hayden’s heart sinks. Fuck. It’s only been a few days so it’s understandable that it’s at the forefront of people’s minds, but he hates talking about it with strangers.
Jeanette is happily chatting on. “I think it’s good that people know. We were all supporting Shane Hollander as captain, and all this time there was this thing going on with Ilya Rozanov.”
“I didn’t mean to share that video as it was,” Hayden says. “That was a huge oversight on my part. It was an accident.”
“Dad?” Arthur asks, pulling at Hayden’s coat. “When are we going?” His lower lip is wobbling.
“Soon, Arthur,” Hayden says. “When Jade and Ruby are here.”
Amber is still wailing, and Hayden tries to rock the baby carriage with one hand while tousling Arthur’s hair with the other. It means that he ends up doing both things pretty badly.
“No one blames you, of course,” Jeanette says. “And there is certainly nothing wrong with Shane Hollander being gay. None of us parents here are homophobic. But Ilya Rozanov? That’s going a bit far, don’t you think?”
In fact, that is obviously exactly what Hayden always used to think. He feels slightly sick now, thinking of how composedly Shane and Ilya had taken his explanation and apology, and of Ilya telling him he was a good friend for keeping their secret as long as he had.
“Jeanette,” he says, trying to keep his voice calm over Amber’s wailing and Arthur’s sniffling. Finally, finally he can see Ruby and Jade skipping up to the gates out of the corner of his eye. “Ilya Rozanov is not a bad guy. He is a tough player, yes, he plays for a rival team, sure, but he’s a good person, really. He and Shane are my very good friends. So, I honestly don’t want to hear or talk about any of this, especially with people who are talking about it as you are.”
Jeanette looks shocked, opening her mouth to speak, but then Jade and Ruby are there, so Hayden simply turns around and herds his kids to the car.
Once he’s home, he shuts down his FanMail account, and donates all the income he’s made from it to the Irina Foundation.
4
“Hayden, how do you feel about Ilya Rozanov inducing your former captain and close friend Shane Hollander to leave the Voyageurs for Ottawa?”
Hayden looks up at the reporter, speechless for a second at the audacity of phrasing the question like this. He clears his throat, mindful of the media team’s instructions and coach Theriault’s threats about how exactly to answer this sort of question. Mindful in the sense that he doesn’t really give a shit but wants to be subtle about it because he’s pretty sure Shane won’t appreciate any extra publicity if Hayden makes the wrong comment.
“I am not sure that statement accurately reflects the circumstances of Shane’s leaving Montreal,” he says. Most of those words were Jackie’s idea. She’s honestly better at this than anyone on the media team.
“Would you like to elaborate on those circumstances?” the reporter prompts.
“I think that should be up to Shane himself.”
Wow, Hayden is really on fire. That sounded like a diplomat could have said it. Maybe once he retires he’ll run to sit on the school council. It would be a huge turn-on for Jackie, he’s sure, and it might give him a chance to oust Jeanette.
“Some have said that you’re to blame for Shane leaving, as it was your FanMail video that originally outed him. How do you feel about outing your friend?”
“Two of my friends,” Hayden says. Sure, Shane is his best friend, but he’s not going to sit here and pretend he only almost ruined one life instead of two. “They’re both my friends.”
Some more muttering from the reporters. “You have historically been quite antagonistic towards Ilya Rozanov in interviews and on the ice,” one of them says. “Are you saying you and he are friends despite this past animosity?”
It’s a bit rich to be surprised by Hayden being friendly with Ilya when he went to the guy’s wedding and has him and Shane over for dinner whenever they’re in Montreal. But if he’s learned one thing during the last couple of years, it’s that the media sees with they want to see.
“Ilya Rozanov is a good guy,” Hayden says. “I’m so sorry about what he and Shane have had to go through, but I’m so happy for them that they found each other and can now play together. You saw they were over at my house when I made the mistake of posting the FanMail video that outed them, something that I will always regret. And I respect Ilya. Hell, I trust him to babysit my kids.”
“And considering this friendship, would you like to respond to Commissioner Crowell’s recent statement?”
“Respectfully,” Hayden says, proud of his professional choice of words. “I think Commissioner Crowell can go -”
At that point, one of the media team runs in and rips the mic away from Hayden. Apparently, they don’t rate Hayden’s efforts in diplomacy.
Hayden checks his phone as he heads out of the press room. Babe that was so hot, Jackie’s messaged. You can talk diplomatic to me all night tonight.
‘I trust him to babysit my kids’, Ilya quotes back at Hayden via text the next day. I cannot believe you, Pike. That is best compliment you can come up with?
Hayden hesitates for a moment before he types. Yes, it is.
Nothing for a couple of minutes. Then Ilya texts, Thank you.
Then he follows it up with, Is an honour to babysit your kids. Jade is best hockey player in the whole Pike family. Best player in all of Montreal, now that Shane is with us Centaurs.
+1
Jackie is driving on the way to Ottawa for Shane and Ilya’s baby shower. She negotiated her driving there and Hayden driving back, which in hindsight seems kind of unfair, since Hayden thinks he would also very much like to be able to drink at this event. Instead of bringing that up, he turns his head to look at the big tote bag that is sitting in the back seat underneath the baby-size Centaurs jersey Jackie knitted as a present.
“Remind me why are we bringing a bag of old bibs to this?”
“They’re for games!”
“I don’t want to play baby shower games.”
“Well, you’ll have to.”
“Why are you bringing game materials anyway? I thought Ilya’s scary Russian ex and Rose fucking Landry were in charge of running this?”
“Language.”
“It’s Rose fucking Landry! Organising my best friend’s baby shower. Like she’s a normal person. I have to express somehow how unreal this is.”
“Still, language,” Jackie says. “Also, Rose Landry has no kids, I have four. I want to be ready to offer up my experience with baby shower games, should the need arise. I’m not sure Hollywood prepares you for running this kind of event. And probably neither does the Russian mafia.”
“All right, cool,” he says. Then, because he can’t stop himself, “Do I have to be here? Isn’t it usually only girls who have to go to baby showers? And isn’t it kind of weird to have your exes involved?”
“I think all of that is different for gay babies.”
“The baby isn’t gay,” Hayden points out.
“Well, maybe she is. We can’t just assume she’s going to be straight.”
“Huh, I guess,” Hayden says. “Never thought about it that way.”
Thankfully, before he has to wrap his mind around how to refer to Shane and Ilya’s baby’s hypothetical future sexual orientation, they arrive.
The baby shower is, to Hayden’s shock and surprise, a roaring success. Clearly, whatever ideas Rose Landry and Ilya’s scary Russian ex Svetlana came up with are working well. Jackie’s on her fifth glass of punch, though, and Hayden doesn’t want her to throw up in the car, so he decides to get a few more bottles of water from the kitchen. Fuck, he’s truly a responsible adult.
As soon as he enters the kitchen and sees Ilya standing there and staring out the window with a glass of what is more likely vodka than water in his hand, Hayden knows something is really wrong.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
Ilya turns his head slowly, and looks at Hayden for a moment, like he’s not even recognising him. “Pike, hello,” he says after a few seconds of silence.
“Uh, hey,” Hayden says. “Is, um, everything -”
Ilya takes a generous swig from his glass, then heads over to the counter where there’s a bottle with Cyrillic script that is most definitely vodka. He opens the bottle and pours himself a refill.
“Okay, buddy,” Hayden says carefully. “How many of those have you had?”
Ilya shrugs. “You should go back,” he says. “Enjoy party.”
“Right,” Hayden says. He thinks leaving Ilya alone right now would be a spectacularly bad idea. “Do you want me to maybe find Shane?”
“No,” Ilya says, with so much finality that Hayden pauses.
“Did you guys have a fight?”
“None of your fucking business, Pike,” Ilya says. He doesn’t add a chirp, though, and the only other time Hayden can remember that they’ve exchanged more than three sentences without Ilya chirping him is when Hayden brought Ilya and Shane the news of the FanMail video. Hayden’s hands start feeling clammy at the idea that whatever is going right now on might be on that level of crisis.
“Listen,” Hayden says. “You don’t seem really okay.”
Ilya snorts, then drinks more vodka. “You are a good dad, Pike,” he says.
“Uh. Thank you?”
“And your father,” Ilya continues. “Is he a good dad?”
“Yes,” Hayden says. “We don’t always agree but I – I always know he loves me. Always have.”
He can tell it was not the answer Ilya was hoping for by the look in his eyes, and the next drink of vodka he takes.
“Good,” Ilya says. “Very nice for you.”
“I’m gonna go find Shane,” Hayden says. Shane maybe isn’t always the calmest in a crisis, but he sure will be better at dealing with this than Hayden.
“Don’t get him,” Ilya says. “He should not see -” He waves a hand vaguely at himself. “This.”
“Hey, I get it. Having a baby is stressful. He’ll understand you having a little freak-out about it.”
Ilya shakes his head. “I am useless,” he says. He sounds like – fuck. He sounds like hell. “I do not deserve him. I will fail him and our babies and -”
“Shut up,” Hayden says. “Shut up, Ilya, fuck – that is – that is fucked, you know that, right? You know none of that is true?”
Ilya doesn’t say anything, just finishes the glass of vodka and goes to refill it again.
“Listen, man,” Hayden says. “I know a thing or two about being a dad, yeah? And you’re a better dad to your dog than most people I know are to their kids. Trust me, you will ace the parent thing. Your kids are going to be little fucking menaces with how much you’ll spoil them.”
“I want cigarette,” Ilya says.
“I don’t think you’re meant to smoke at a baby shower.”
“Fuck you, Pike,” Ilya says, and his voice sounds a little better than before. “Is my baby shower. I can do what I want.”
Hayden gives him a small smile. Before he can say anything, he hears Shane’s voice through the doorway. “Ilya?”
Shane pokes his head into the kitchen, his eyes immediately catching on Ilya. Ilya carefully puts down the glass of vodka.
“What’s wrong?” Shane asks, crossing the kitchen to where Ilya is standing. “Are you okay?”
“Bad day,” Ilya says. “Just… bad thoughts. I thought I should be alone. Should not ruin the party.” Shane is already there, wrapping his arms around him and tucking his face against Ilya’s neck. Hayden watches Ilya pull Shane tight against his chest.
“Hey, shh,” Shane makes. “You are not ruining anything.” His voice is intense but calm, and Hayden can tell that this is not the first time his best friend is seeing Ilya like this. Shit.
“I’m right here with you,” Shane says. “Want to tell me about those thoughts?”
“Was thinking about being a father,” Ilya mumbles. “Being like my father.”
Shane pulls away slightly. He reaches up one hand to cup Ilya’s jaw and tilt his head to look him in the eyes. “You are nothing like your father, Ilya.”
“Maybe it will change after kids -”
“No,” Shane says in his captain voice. “Ilya. You had two parents, and it’s your mother you’re like, not your father. You’re going to be amazing, and I know you’ll always be proud of our kids. They’ll be so loved, and so fucking spoiled. A million times worse than Anya.”
Ilya laughs wetly and kisses the top of Shane’s head. “Yes, Hayden said same thing.”
Shane turns his head enough to look at Hayden. “Thank you,” he says.
“Yes,” Ilya says. “Hayden. Thank you.”
Hayden’s throat feels oddly tight. He coughs. “Yeah, I – it was nothing. Of course.” Quietly he adds, “I’m here for you guys, whatever you need.”
Shane has already turned back into Ilya’s neck, and Ilya has become absorbed in kissing Shane’s temple and whispering in Russian, so Hayden figures they deserve some time to themselves.
He backs out of the kitchen quietly and finds Jackie in the living room. “Can you distract all these people enough that they don’t notice that Shane and Ilya need a few minutes alone? A lot going on for them right now.”
Jackie looks at him with that expression of pity she sometimes wears when she watches him trying to do his laundry. She pushes up her sleeves with admirable gusto considering the amount of punch she drank.
“Easy. Find me Rose fucking Landry, the scary Russian woman, and my bag of bibs.” She hiccups. “And maybe, like, a bucket for the car ride home.”