Chapter Text
Shane can feel the tears welling in his eyes. He needs to get off of the dance floor. Hell, he needs to get out of this club. Rose would understand if he needed to leave. He had just played a game - there were a million excuses he could come up with on why he needed to get out of there. His shoulder was starting to bother him from one of the many hits he took into the boards or his legs were burning from being on the ice for over 20 minutes. It was a particularly rough game, with Montreal barely beating Boston and Theriault had him on the ice constantly in hopes for a better outcome.
Or Shane could just say he was starting to feel sick (which wasn’t entirely a lie). Watching Ilya dancing and kissing that woman made him physically ill. She was beautiful. Ilya was…beautiful. And Shane was staring. In the middle of the dance floor. That’s when Ilya looked up and caught his eye. Fuck.
Ilya hesitated in his movements for a millisecond at the sight of Shane. No one else in the room would have noticed it if they were looking at him but he knew Shane caught it. Of course Shane caught it. They have been facing off against each other for years, let alone fucking each other for years. He used this fumble to his advantage and turned the girl around to face him. Ilya started kissing her again while they were dancing, deepening it almost instantly. She was objectively beautiful. Blonde hair, delicate curves, and not at all what Ilya desired. He wanted strong arms wrapped around his waist while he got lost in deep brown eyes he's looked into hundreds of times before, only to stray away to look at the smattering of freckles that happened to be one of his favorite things in the world. Realizing he was daydreaming, Ilya broke the kiss, looking up to find Shane gone from the dance floor.
When Shane finally managed to pick his feet up off the floor, he found himself outside leaning against the wall on the side of the club, tucked away from the street. It was January, and he knew he should be freezing, having left his jacket at the table, but he felt numb. Rose found him leaning against the wall a couple of minutes later, jacket in hand.
“Hey, are you okay? You kind of just…bailed.” Rose actually looked concerned. Whenever she got like this, there was a small wrinkle that would appear between her eyebrows. It was cute.
“Yeah, sorry. I had to use the bathroom and then needed to get some air.” Shane started putting on his jacket, although he still didn’t feel the chill in the air. “You know, all of the people sometimes are a little too much for me.”
“Shane…”
“What?”
“You know you’re a 6 foot tall, professional hockey player that anyone can pick out in a line up, right?”
“...Uhhh.” He started to tap his fingers against his thighs. A habit he picked up when he was trying to calm his nerves.
“So, if I say I saw you standing on the dance floor, maybe staring at someone, instead of going to the bathroom you would say…” She didn’t say it like she was accusing him, she was saying it like she really wanted to know the answer.
The tears started welling up in Shane’s eyes again. Rose picked up on it immediately.
“Hey! Hey.” The second hey softer than the first. She put her hand on Shane’s arm and is standing directly in front of him now. He can tell she’s trying to make eye contact with him. “You don’t have to give me specifics. You don’t have to explain what happened in there. But…I think we should probably talk about us, at least.”
They had only been together for a couple of months and with both of their busy schedules, only saw each other a handful of times. They had fooled around a couple of times but they only slept together once. It wasn’t terrible but it might as well have been a chore Shane was checking off on his to-do list.
“I feel like I do need to explain. I mean, shit, you saw me standing in the middle of the dance floor like an idiot!” Shane’s voice raising slightly, mad at himself for letting his guard down. He still wouldn’t look her in the eye. Couldn’t. If Rose saw him, who else did? His teammates? Rozanov’s teammates? How could he have been so stupid? All to watch Ilya make out with some random chick. He thought that, maybe, Ilya noticed him and there had been…a moment. But there was obviously nothing there. There hadn’t been anything there for months and Shane was the one that had made sure of that as soon as he walked out the door of Ilya's house months prior.
“Shane, you weren’t standing in the middle of the dance floor like an idiot…okay, well, maybe a little. But it was only for a minute or two. And I only noticed because I was looking for you when you literally ran away. I was worried.”
“Sorry.”
“I really like you, Shane.”
“I like you too.”
“I know you do. But I don’t think you like me…like that.”
It’s the first time someone has said it to him. In a serious manner, of course. On the ice and in the locker room, slurs get thrown around all the time. Shane finally looks up to meet Rose’s gaze. His eyes are red and glassy but, to his surprise, he’s still not crying. She gives him a small smile. He can see she’s not mad at him and that almost gets him to relax a little.
“It’s okay.” She takes his hands into hers, grounding him and getting him to stop fidgeting. “I’ve noticed…some things but wasn’t really sure how to bring it up. I guess seeing the look of absolute heartbreak on your face when I noticed the person you were staring at was no other than Ilya Rozanov…that was a pretty good starting point.”
“That obvious, huh?” Shane lets out a little huff in defeat. He almost starts to relax again but then immediately panic sets in. “Rose, I swear nothing was going on while we were together. I haven’t talked to Rozanov in months.”
“I believe you, Shane. I know you’re a great guy and I would actually love for us to be friends. Real friends. You’re secretly one of the funniest people I know.”
“Well that you don’t have to keep a secret.”
Rose drops his hands and leans against the wall next to him, the weight of their conversation hanging over them.
“So, I take it, this isn’t a new thing? Not some one-sided, unrequited love? At least I hope not.”
“No, not new. Unrequited, maybe. I might have freaked out a little bit a few months ago and walked out on him. Then I met you. And, Rose, I don’t regret meeting you, not for a second. We really hit it off and I thought, wow, okay, I like a girl.”
“You just didn’t realize you liked that girl as a friend, though.”
“I did not realize I liked that girl as a friend, you are correct. And now I don’t even know what to do. Rozanov wouldn’t even look at me on the ice tonight.”
That’s when it hit Shane that he fucked everything up with Ilya. Right on cue, his eyes started to water and tears started to fall. Of course, this is what broke the dam. Not him finally understanding he’s gay. Not his literal girlfriend figuring it out before he did. But him realizing he may never be with Ilya Rozanov ever again. He wiped his eyes with his jacket sleeve and turned to Rose.
“Are you okay with Miles if I go home? Or do you want me to stay with you?”
“I’m okay with Miles. Don’t worry about me. Just text me when you get home, okay?”
“Okay and you too.”
Rose was looking at him like a puppy that just got kicked and it made him feel even worse. He knew as soon as he got into his car he was going to really start crying so he just had to keep it together until then. She gave him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek and walked back around the building to where the entrance was. Shane was glad she brought out his jacket so that he didn’t have to go back inside and see Ilya like that again.
Walking back to his car, Shane pulled out his phone and scrolled down to a familiar text thread - Lily. He had to park a couple of blocks away since the club was in a busy area with other restaurants, shops, and hotels. It was also a Saturday night making it even busier. The last message was from him and all it said was “here.” It was from months ago, from the last day he spoke to Ilya. He scrolled up a bit reading some of their past conversations, not paying attention to where he was walking, running right into someone on the sidewalk.
“Oh, sorry.” Still partially looking down to avoid eye contact and mumbling so that he doesn’t draw attention to himself and the person won't recognize him. That's exactly what he doesn't need right now. A fan wanting their picture taken with him or a signature or to just talk to him about the game tonight.
“Is okay.”
“Ilya"?