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Shane could hear it, which was crazy. Because, probably for the first time in his life, the locker room was completely silent for practise. It was the first time since they got outed that he went to practise, and, God. It was hard not to blame Hayden in a moment like this.
It was so silent that he could hear their thoughts.
“Ehm, guys. Can you just please talk to me, just even a word?” Everyone stopped doing what they were doing, but no one said anything. They didn’t even looked at him, “Guys, please. Just say something.”
“Ca—” Someone started staying, but they stopped, like the word burned their tongue, like it was wrong for him to be the Captain of this team. Shane was starting to lose his patience.
“What? You cannot even say it? Really? I want everyone here to know that I’m still your Captain;” He stopped, pondering his words. Fuck it, he was gonna say it. “I’ve always been gay. I met Ilya when I was 17, and probably a part of me loved him ever since” Shane voice was now angrier, his teammates were looking at him like he was speaking another language.
“Cap, why are you telling us this?” “Because— you guys act like I’m a totally different person but— I’ve always been like this. I have been your captain since 2009, and I’ve always been gay, and I’ve always been in love with Ilya. You guys never met a different version of me, you just didn’t know” He was now calmer, but he felt hot throughout is all body.
“And I know it’s a pretty fucking deal, but Ilya is not what you guys think. He’s the one who makes me happy, isn’t this what you always said you wanted from me?” He could feel tears in his eyes: all these years, they all said that they wanted him happy. Did they want him happy only according to what they made up in their heads for him? God.
No one said anything. They just looked at each other, slowly returning to do what they were doing before.
“Seriously? We have one three Stanley Cup together. Three. I was your fucking Captain! I was! I was the one who stayed late into the night to make sure everyone was comfortable in their ability! Am I right?” A sour and angry smile was on his face. No one answered.
“Am I right or not? I was the one who stayed, who fought for you guys, right?” He was straight on screaming, “And someone better answer,” He said more quietly this time, but it was still full of anger.
“Yes, you’re right, Cap. You were the one. But you cannot ignore how much of a shock this is. You never told us, you kept pretending like you were single, you were— you were so secretive about your love like, we didn’t—” J.J was stopped by Shane’s loud laugh.
“Don’t phrase it like it’s my fault, J.J, okay? You guys throw homophobic comments around like it’s the only thing your parents ever taught you. You guys are mean to Ilya every single fucking day. And what he ever done to you, mh? He was a little mean to you, mh? You guys cannot handle a little mean? Or is it because he’s better than you all together?” He started to look around, trying to see some reaction. “You guys hate him because he’s better than you, and you all know it. He has something that no one, but me, in this entire league has. You can try to get better, you can work out more, you can practise more. But you’ll never be as good as Ilya and I.” He didn’t yell, he had calmed down. A smile was on his face, he was so immensely proud of Ilya. He was so happy to be able to spend his life with him. He was so tired of hiding, and in fact, he felt so much lighter now, after telling his team how things actually were.
“But how can we actually be sure that when we lost to Boston, it wasn’t because of you?”
They were about to agree, but they must have seen Shane’s face: “What” ”Just— You know.” “No, I don’t know. I’d prefer dying than letting Ilya win at board games, imagine letting him win at hockey.” “Yeah, but—” “But what! We have won three Stanley Cups together. Not one, not you, three.” He had three fingers up, his eyes full of the same heat he would’ve when it was time to win a hockey game.
“Someone else has something to say? Because if you do, you better speak now. I won’t tolerate any of you speaking behind my back.”
There was silence again.
“Okay. Now let’s go practising.”
For the whole practise, Shane was playing hard.
He was just trying to make a point, he wanted to show them how better he was, not because he was being cocky, but because it was just the truth. How no one could compete with him, even they tried. The Coach tried to stop him a few times, telling him to play not so hard, because it was just practise. But everything Shane said was, “What? They cannot catch up?” He couldn't bring himselt to admit that it was true.
Shane was now at home, on his couch. Ilya would be home soon. All he could about how lucky he was. He probably would never admit it out loud, but being outed was not the worst thing that ever happened, because that would be not having Ilya in his life. People could say whatever they wanted, he had Ilya, and Ilya had him. Obviously, some comments will hurt, but maybe they would hurt a little less.
“Shane, baby. Hey” “Mh?” “You fell asleep on couch, baby,” As Shane opened his eyes, he saw Ilya’s smile. “Mhh—I was waiting for you,” Ilya’s smile got even bigger.
“They thought I would let you win—” “What?” “Yeah, they said something like ‘What if when we lost against Boston it was because of you’. I don’t know what to do, really. I’d always thought I would retire here, at Montreal, but I’m starting to rethink that. But also, were would I go?”
They were on the couch, under the same blanket, their legs intertwined, “You could come to Ottawa? With me?” “You would really like that? Like, it would be okay with you? To have me on the same team?” “Yeah, I’d love to have you on the same,” For good measurement, Ilya kissed Shane’s forehead, “I’d love to play with you. On the same team. I’d love to come home from practise with you. We would basically live together. I’d love that”