Chapter Text
Ilya was lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He had barely touched his dinner, and had returned to his room as soon as he had been excused. He had been spending a lot of time there recently, he liked the quiet. He heard a knock at the front door but he didn’t move.
He lay there for a while more, the distant sound of his father’s good glasses clinking as he poured vodka, and the soft murmur of voices didn’t seem to register.
Footsteps began to echo through the house, getting closer to his room and he sat up in time to see the door swinging open and his father standing in the doorway.
‘Ilya, there is someone here to talk to you.’ and from behind, Ilya made out another figure standing there.
‘Good evening, Ilya.’ the other man said to him.
‘Behave, Ilya.’ Grigori narrowed his eyes at him before walking back to the kitchen. ‘Come to the parlor when you are done, Mr Feltsman, and we can discuss the paperwork.’
Ilya couldn’t believe his eyes. Why had Yakov come to speak to him?
‘Is Vitya here?’ Ilya asked quietly as Yakov walked in.
Yakov shook his head ‘No. But he is one of the reasons I’ve come today. Viktor spoke to you last year about something, and I am here to tell you that if you ever tell anyone what he said, you will answer to me.’
He loomed menacingly over Ilya and he shrank back a bit, although he kept eye contact the whole time. He frowned. ‘Wha- oh. I would never say anything about, about that! Vitya is my friend.’ He said this last bit slightly quieter and eyed the door nervously, hoping that his father had really gone back to the parlor.
‘Good, that is good.’ Yakov nodded awkwardly. He wasn’t quite sure what to do now that the most important thing had been said.
‘Do you think that,’ Ilya hesitated. ‘I mean could Viktor come and visit? My father will not take me to St. Petersburg, so I thought maybe he could come here? Sometimes, I mean.’ Ilya trailed off.
‘Viktor does not need to come and visit.’
‘Forget it, it was stupid.’ Ilya said quickly, looking away from Yakov.
‘No, Ilya, that is not what I meant.’ He sighed. ‘Viktor does not need to come and visit because I hope that you will come back with me to St. Petersburg.’ Ilya looked back at him, eyes wide. ‘Lilia and your mother spoke last summer. She wanted you to be safe from, well. She wanted you to be safe. There is a hockey coach at Yubilenly, he coaches the under 18s national team. There was talk about him moving to Moscow, but he and I are friends, and I have convinced him to stay in St. Petersburg for now. He has agreed to train you with some of the other young prospects. Your father is prepared to let you stay with us while you train. If that is something you want.’
Ilya didn’t know what to say. He sat there, blinking, and embarrassingly, he felt his eyes start to water. ‘I want.’ he whispered. ‘When do we leave?’
‘Tomorrow, if you like. Pack this evening and I will come by and help you with your bags. Only pack what you need, we can buy you new things when we get home.’
‘Ok.’ Ilya agreed. He couldn’t believe that any of this was real, but taking the chance, even if this did turn out to be a dream, was worth it.
In the parlor Grigori barely said a word to Ilya as the paperwork giving Yakov parental power over Ilya, and the hockey contract was signed. He rushed back to his room to pack his things, shoving in his t-shirts haphazardly, before carefully wrapping up the only framed photo of his mother in his bag.
The next morning, Ilya opened the door at 7 o’clock, precisely when Yakov told him he would be there. They made their way down the steps of the house, and around the corner. Ilya paused to look over his shoulder once before continuing on towards the bus stop. They sat side by side in silence.
Moscow train station was located near the center of town. When Ilya and Yakov got off the bus, they started to walk in the direction of the station until Ilya stopped suddenly in the middle of the street.
There, just across the road was a pawnshop. In the window, Ilya saw an assortment of jewellery, but what caught his eye was in the corner and was glinting in the sunlight.
Yakov turned around and opened his mouth to yell, but paused when he saw the longing look on Ilya’s face.
‘Yakov, I think that was my mothers.’ He pointed to the golden cross. ‘Papa told us he sold her things, but maybe this was where he did it? Please, can we look?’ he felt an odd surge of desperation rise in his chest. He wanted something of his mothers so badly and he didn’t want to leave this behind.
Yakov had an odd expression that he didn’t understand, but he didn’t care about anything other than the cross, so when he nodded Ilya pressed up to the window as close as he could to make out the details. There was a small dent in the gold just above the bottom of the cross that he recognised. He gasped in excitement before looking at the price and wincing. He reached into his pocket to grab his wallet and began rifling through it, looking for the correct amount of coins and notes, but he came up more than half short.
Before he could even think to cry, Yakov was walking into the store and speaking with the man behind the desk. Ilya followed him in in time to see the man bring the cross out the window to the counter.
‘What do you think, Ilya?’ Yakov asked gruffly. ‘Is this it?’
Ilya nodded hesitantly. ‘Yes, but-’
Yakov cut him off. ‘Here.’ He handed over several notes and in return the man slid the cross across to them in a small jewellery box. Ilya looked up at Yakov, tears brimming in his eyes.
‘Yakov, I can’t afford this.’ He whispered.
‘Think of it as a signing bonus. Now come quickly, I don’t want to miss the train.’
Ilya reverently took the necklace and hung it around his neck, tucking it safely under his shirt and followed Yakov out of the store and back into the busy street.
—-
Viktor was sat by the window in the front room of the house, staring morosely out the window. Although Yakov had reassured him that him liking boys didn’t change anything, Viktor felt like that was the reason Yakov had been mysteriously absent. He had done his usual stretching routine with Lilia, but it was clear that his usual enthusiasm was missing.
He had made up his mind that when Yakov got back, he would tell him that he had changed his mind, and that he definitely liked girls. He couldn’t bear to lose Yakov because of something like that. He would do anything to keep his new family together. And who knew, maybe if he said it enough times, it might eventually come true, might make him normal.
He sighed and tipped himself backwards off the arm of the sofa from where he had been perched onto his back, and lay with arm covering his eyes. Lilia tutted from the armchair where she was embroidering a new set of handkerchiefs. He jumped up suddenly when he heard the lock turn and ran towards the door, Lilia shouting after him, ‘Vitya, what have we told you about running in the house!’
‘Yakov, you’re home! Listen, there's something I have to tell yo-’ But he froze, when he saw Ilya on the porch next to Yakov. ‘Ilya? What are you doing here? Where is Irina?’ he frowned, confused.
Yakov placed his hand on Ilya's shoulder. ‘Ilya is going to be staying with us from now on. Would you like to help him take his bags to the guest room? That is where he will be staying.’
Viktor nodded and grabbed the rolling suitcase from Ilya before he could protest. Ilya trailed after him and up the stairs quieter than Viktor could ever remember him being. He pushed open the door to Ilya’s new room that was just across from Viktors and at the top of the stairs.
Ilya set his backpack down on the bed quietly and looked out the window. Viktor hovered anxiously behind him.
‘Is Irina coming?’ He asked?
Ilya shook his head and looked down at the bedspread and Viktor heard him sniff. He reached out and put his hand on Ilya’s shoulder and he looked up. Viktor pulled him close and rubbed as Ilya let himself cry for the first time since the day his mother died.
—-
For the first few weeks Ilya was like a ghost in the house. Viktor still went to training with Yakov, but instead of staying in his office and reading or watching the other skaters, he started taking the bus home to sit with Ilya.
They played cards a lot, and Viktor would sometimes borrow Lilia’s romance novels, and they would giggle at the descriptions. Viktor also let Ilya braid his hair. He would sit cross legged on the floor in front of the sofa and let Ilya play with his hair. It reminded them both of playing with Irina’s, though they never said it.
The first time Yakov saw it he was so shocked he almost walked into the wall because Viktor hated it when other people played with his hair.
Slowly but surely the old Ilya started to come back out. Lilia took him shopping and helped him pick out new bedsheets and he and Viktor would walk to the park in the evening.
On the last Friday before Ilya met his new team, they sat on the swings sharing a bag of apple slices. Ilya was talking excitedly about meeting his new team and coach, but Viktor was struggling to feel happy for him. They hadn’t spoken about the fact that Viktor liked boys, and he was worried that once Ilya started spending time with the hockey team, he might start to act like them. He didn’t want to lose his friend.
Ilya noticed that he was more quiet than usual, but Viktor brushed it off with a laugh. ‘Figure skating is hard work! Harder than hockey!’ They playfully argued on the way home, but Viktor couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.
—-
It was only his second week at the rink so far, but Ilya felt like he was fitting in alright. He had started school too, and although he was the youngest on the team again, one of the other boys was in his class, so they would walk to practice together.
Coach Vasiliev wasn’t exactly nicer than his previous coach, he certainly expected more of them, but he was definitely fairer. Ilya liked him a lot, but he didn’t like how he spoke about the figure skaters, and encouraged the team to.
A lot of the boys would leer at the girls, and they had nothing good to say about the male skaters, but Ilya kept his mouth shut and his head down. They had teased him when they found out he was living with Viktor, and warned him to be careful around ‘the fag’.
Unlike Viktor, Ilya’s team only trained at the rink four times a week, the other days were about strength training and learning plays. They didn’t play at the rink on Sundays or Mondays, so they could be particularly rowdy on Saturday. This particular week Ilya was last off the ice because he had missed an obvious shot and coach made him skate laps.
When he walked into the locker room he knew something was up immediately. They were laughing and crowded around the skaters' side of the room, so he walked closer to find out what was going on.
They stood in front of Viktor's locker with one of the older boys holding the lock in one hand and a pair of bolt cutters in the other. Ilya watched as they tipped a packet of condoms into the locker and tossed Viktor’s new training jacket which he could see had several large tears and had been drenched in water.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Teaching that fairy a lesson.’ one of the boys answered with a laugh.
‘Yeah, Coach gave us the idea! We don’t want him here with us, and this might make him find somewhere else to perve on people.’
‘We’re doing you a favor! I can’t imagine living with someone like that.’ The boys all made various sounds of agreement and laughed as they slammed the locker shut. One of them reached into his pocket and pulled out a purple pen. In big capital letters he wrote ‘FAIRY’ on the locker and tossed the lock to the floor.
‘Come on then boys, let's get out of here quick!.’
Ilya followed the group more slowly, and bumped into Viktor on his way out the locker room. Viktor smiled at him and was about to speak when some of the team called out to Ilya to hurry up. Viktor shrugged and went past into the locker room and Ilya left, helpless.
Instead of going home straight away, Ilya headed into town. He glanced around, making sure no one he knew could see him before heading into the tailors. This was where Yakov sent his students to buy gear and Ilya had met the owner once before, but he knew Viktor had been there with Yakov frequently because he made all of Viktor's costumes.
He went straight to the counter and rang the bell. A tall, wiry man popped his head out the door. ‘What can I help you with?’
‘Mr Kozlov? My name is Ilya Rozanov. I’m staying with Yakov Feltsman.’
‘Oh yes, Yakov's new stray.’ he laughed. ‘What did he send you for?’
‘I’m not here for Yakov. I want to buy a skating jacket.’ Mr Kozlov looked confused, but before he could interrupt, Ilya continued. ‘The hockey team destroyed Viktor's new jacket and I want to replace it for him.’
Ilya waited impatiently for the man to respond. He hated that he couldn’t stand up to the team, but he could at least try and fix this as much as he could for Viktor.
Mr Kozlov sighed but he didn’t look surprised. Ilya guessed that it probably wasn’t the first time Viktor had needed things replacing.
‘This jacket is expensive.’ He warned.
‘How much?’
‘18000 rubles.’
Ilya winced and opened his wallet, despite the fact that he knew he didn’t have enough. ‘Will you take 10,000?’
‘I can’t accept that offer I’m afraid.’ Seeing Ilya's dejected expression he hurried to continue. ‘If you come and work for me, help me lift the heavy bolts of fabric, clean a little, I’m sure we can come to an agreement.’
‘I can come everyday after practice.’ Ilya agreed readily, and gratefully took the bag Mr Kozlov held out for him.
He made his way home and sat in the kitchen, waiting for Viktor.
But when Viktor got home, he went straight to his room without stopping in the kitchen like usual to grab a snack and talk to Ilya.
Ilya grabbed the tea he had prepared and put it on a tray, carefully balancing it on his way up the stairs whilst holding the new jacket in his other hand. He kicked Viktor's door a couple of times because his hands weren’t free and called out ‘Can I come in?’
The door opened slowly and he met Viktor's red rimmed eyes.
‘I got you a new jacket.’ he offered, quietly.
Viktor opened the door wider and let him in. Ilya left the tray on the desk and sat next to Viktor on the bed.
‘I’m really sorry.’ he whispered.
Viktor shrugged and refused to look at him as he spoke. ‘I know what they say. What they think about me. I’m used to it by now, but we never spoke about what I said last summer. Do you hate me, or think I’m weird? Do you not want to be my friend anymore?’
‘If you’re weird then I’m weird too.’ Ilya confessed.
Viktor looked at him quickly. ‘What? Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I guess I was worried. It was silly, okay, don’t laugh! I like both, I think. I like kissing girls, and I’ve never kissed a boy, but I think I’ll like it.’
‘Do you want to try?’ Viktor asked shyly
Ilya nodded, feeling silly for being nervous. It was Viktor! His best friend! They slowly leaned in and hesitated. Ilya could feel Viktor breathing by his face, and leant in, closing the gap between them. Their lips brushed together briefly, before they pulled apart.
‘Well?’ Viktor asked?
‘Definitely like both.’ Ilya paused suddenly. ‘Wait. Viktor, I love you, you know? You’re my best friend, but I don’t think I like you like that.’ he hoped that Viktor wouldn’t be offended.
Viktor giggled. ‘You’re not my type anyway.’
‘Hey!’ Ilya protested. I’m very attractive! Why don’t you like me?’ he pouted.
‘I don’t date hockey players’ he said. ‘You’re all dumb jocks.’ he grinned slyly.
‘Ilya pushed him playfully back on the bed and Viktor reached behind him and whacked him in the face with his pillow. With a cry Ilya jumped on the bed and grabbed the other pillow to hit him back. They played like that for a few minutes before Lilia appeared in the doorway.
‘Boys! What on earth do you think you’re doing?’ she scolded.
‘Sorry Lilia!’ they chorused as they hid the pillows behind them. She tutted and walked away, but neither of them missed how her lips twitched as she turned.
‘Best friends?’ Viktor asked?
‘Always.’