fanvergent sushi roll

After Ilya was finally able to step away, he heads to the bar as a guise for searching for his boyfriend. Something is churning in Ilya’s gut—wariness. He just has this feeling that something isn’t right.

One last scan of the room proves hopeless, and Ilya is getting desperate. He turns around to face the bartending staff.

“Have you seen Shane Hollander?”

The bartender shakes their head, a small smile on their face. “You want to rub the MVP win in his face?” they say with a small smirk.

Ilya plays along—it’s as good of a cover as any. “Yes—cannot let him get cocky,” he winks.

The bartender laughs. “I haven’t see him, unfortunately.”

Another bar hand behind them must have overhead the conversation and pipes in, “I saw him go into one of those smaller meeting rooms off the side of the ballroom. He was with who I assume are his parents.”

Ilya nods in thanks to the bar hand, already pacing off in that direction. Fuck anonymity right now. He has a feeling Shane needs him.

He makes it to the west side of the ballroom quickly, turning doorknob after doorknob; a man on a mission. With every room he checks, he gets more frantic and urgent.

Finally he finds an unlocked room, and notes the lights on underneath the door, but he can’t hear anything going on inside. He barges in, making sure to shut the door quickly behind him.

In the meeting room he finds Shane, sitting slumped over in a chair, elbows to knees, his navy blue suit wrinkling underneath him. His chest is heaving and he has tears streaming out the corner of his eyes.

Ilya doesn’t think; he walks over to Shane and plants his hands on his shoulders firmly, gripping them with strong fingers.

“Hey,” he says, softly.

Sometimes when Shane gets like this he can’t stand to be touched, but Ilya can tell that’s not the case today as Shane immediately leans in and presses his face into Ilya’s belly. Ilya wraps his arms around him tightly and squeezes, applying firm pressure.

With one hand, he grips the back of Shane’s neck, the other planted in the middle of his spine atop his suit jacket. After a moment, Ilya hauls him up to standing, guiding Shane to press his face into his neck. Normally Shane would breathe him in at this point, but his breathing is too erratic.

Ilya plants a kiss on the side of Shane’s head instinctively. “Take a breath with me, yes?” He takes slow deep inhales, drawing out his exhales. It takes a few moments before Shane starts to respond, and his breathing is still occasionally shuddering as he tries to match Ilya’s pace.

Ilya rocks them slowly side to side, keeping Shane wrapped tightly in his arms. Eventually, after who knows how long, Shane finally speaks.

“I’m okay,” he croaks, but makes no effort to remove himself from Ilya’s hold. Ilya doesn’t either.

Someone clears their throat behind them, reminding both Shane and Ilya that they aren’t alone in this room.

Ilya keeps Shane in his embrace, but turns them so they are able to see Yuna and David, looking absolutely baffled. So much for a brief introduction.

Ilya decides to take charge in this moment.

“Shane, go upstairs to Penthouse with your family.”

He starts extracting Shane from his grip, and pulls out his hotel room key to hand to him.

“But—” Shane protests.

“Go. I will stay down here and see everyone. Then I will meet you.”

Shane’s eyes are still wet, and all Ilya wants to do is wipe his tears and take him to bed. But instead he needs to be a good Secret Boyfriend and do his due diligence. For Shane.

“Thank you,” Shane whispers.

Ilya presses a kiss to his forehead. “Ya Tebla Yulbubu.”

Shane repeats the affection back. Ilya nods to Shane’s parents then makes his way back to the party.

Both Shane and Ilya, the two stars of the league, can’t be absent from the reception. As much as he desperately wants to be upstairs with Shane to ask him what happened, he must show face first. He’s also concerned by how Shane’s parents are going to react to the revelation.

But based on the teary, grateful look Ilya saw in Yuna’s eyes earlier, he thinks everything is going to be alright.

***

An hour feels like enough time to make his rounds. He does a shot with Marleau and Gryffe, asks Scott Hunter when they are sending him back to his retirement home, and thanks the commissioner for the opportunity to play and for the award tonight. Then he extracts himself with an excuse of finding a woman to bed. His teammates laugh it off, but the lie feels sour on his tongue.

Once he makes it to the elevator, he’s rushing up to his suite before knocking on the door.

Yuna is the one to open.

Ilya pushes into the room. “Shane is okay?” he asks, looking around the room for his boyfriend.

“I’m here,” Shane says, walking out from around the corner. He’s holding a half drank bottle of water, suit jacket off, tie undone. He looks handsome as hell, but that’s unsurprising. “Hey,” Shane’s eyes soften when he looks at Ilya. Despite the audience, Ilya can’t help but plant a chaste kiss on his lips. He can still taste Shane’s salty tears as he pulls away.

He leans in to whisper in Shane’s ear, “You told them the story, yes?”

Shane nods. “I’m sorry for freaking out down there. It wasn’t about you.”

Ilya’s eyebrows furrow. Of course it was about him. Everything tough in Shane’s life comes back to how inconvenient it is that they are in love, with everything working against them. He feels guilty about it a lot, and wishes for Shane’s sake that he was boyfriends with someone easier to love.

Shane must read the disbelief all over Ilya’s face. “Really. I was excited for you to meet Mom and Dad,” he explains. “The party was just a lot. The music was loud and everyone kept patting me on the shoulder and apologizing for my loss. And my tie was choking me and—”

Ilya cuts him off, not needing to hear anymore. He knows exactly how Shane can get in these types of environments. With the added pressure of this monumental step in their relationship, it’s no wonder Shane worked himself into a panic attack.

“Is okay,” Ilya smiles softly, just glad to see that he’s doing better.

Shane grips Ilya’s shoulders and turns him around to face his parents.

“Mom, Dad,” he starts. “This is Ilya. He’s my boyfriend and we are in love.”

The confidence in Shane’s voice nearly takes Ilya’s breath away.