Chapter Text
Yuna doesn’t like him.
She hasn’t come out and said this, but David can tell. Her smile is that much too wide, and sometimes her eyes scrunch a little at something the kid says and he can see she is only ju-uuust holding herself back from snapping.
To be honest, David isn’t wild about him either.
Apart from anything else, when you’ve spent the better part of a decade watching the human equivalent of an oil tanker slam your son into walls and get in his face and say fuck knows what to get him that worked up, it’s slightly difficult to adjust to thinking of him as a non-threat. While David was not as exercised over the whole took-first-pick-in-the-draft-over-Shane as Yuna was, it did upset him on Shane’s behalf, knowing what a good boy his son was, how hard he’d worked, exactly how good he was at hockey too, how Mr Cigarettes-And-Attitude appeared last minute out of nearly-nowhere and stole it. David had clocked him at Worlds, in part because he was sadly actually that good, in part because of Shane’s intense and in hindsight incredibly revealing interest in him, but everybody had assumed the kid would play for the KHL rather than shipping over to the MLH.
Okay, okay, be fair and set ancient history aside. They hardly know Rozanov, after all, not off the ice.
But that side of things is no better, is it?
Rozanov’s sense of humour is about five more steps over the line than David can put up with, and he is altogether too brash, bold, confident. That day, he had seemed a little less full of himself, a little less sure of himself, and David had been thinking he wasn’t so bad. They hadn’t talked much while Yuna and Shane were outside having their heart-to-heart, just exchanged pleasantries about the vodka again, and the kid had politely complimented their home. Later, the way he calmed Shane down was both touching and reassuring.
This benevolent impression did not survive contact with an Ilya Rozanov not meeting his boyfriend’s parents for the first official time.
‘Hello Hollanders,’ is his cheerful greeting when Yuna and David arrive for dinner. This is the least obnoxious thing he says all evening, and even that, innocuous as it might be meant, puts David’s back up. It’s too casual. They don’t know each other! When David met Yuna’s parents, he had worn a suit and tie. He had tried to look up Japanese customs surrounding hopefully-your-in-laws-soon, and when the library failed him, he had fallen back on what he knew. He had brought flowers and good wine, and he had been scrupulously polite as he walked in the door.
Yuna had laughed at him a lot for that at the time, but the point is, it had shown respect! It had shown he didn’t take Yuna for granted, knew what she was worth and knew he needed to win her family over. Ilya Rozanov, asshole hockey player and Shane’s career-long rival is surely a more dubious prospect than David Hollander, boring and straitlaced kid studying economics was. Boring and straitlaced and set up for a good job, and playing hockey for McGill. And as baffling as Yuna’s mother had found Yuna's hockey enthusiasm, she had at least understood how important that was.
The kid is dressed in a different Raiders t-shirt from earlier (and in reflection, hadn’t that been pretty provocative?), handsy with Shane when he thinks they’re not looking, constantly chirping, talking shit about the Metros, about Shane’s routine, a couple of times even trying to drag Yuna into a joint hassling of Shane. He doesn’t let up for a second. And the tone of the conversation, it’s overly familiar. Maybe he does or doesn’t know Shane that well, but he certainly doesn’t know David or Yuna that well.
The third time he hears Rozanov call David’s son ‘boring’, he clenches his jaw so hard he thinks he might have cracked a tooth.
Driving away, Yuna says flatly, ‘He’s certainly full of life.’
David is concentrating on the bend, and while a post-mortem rip-Rozanov-to-shreds-session might be cathartic, he’s not sure it’s such a good idea, not when they’re still adjusting to the whole concept. Yuna’s like Shane, she needs time to mull things over. By tomorrow or the day after, she will have lined up a few good bon mots and David won't have to worry he's rushing her to the conclusion that their son's boyfriend is an asshole.
There is also the other thing, the thing David absolutely cannot ever, ever say to Yuna or anybody else, but some shades of which might slip out during a good old marital bitching.
He tries to suppress it, but every time he thinks he’s getting there, the image of Rozanov handling his son like a piece of meat flashes into his head and this sets up a chain reaction of suppositions – does he – do they – and then David wants to die, or at least pour bleach into his brain through his ear.
He’s heterosexual. He’s a man of a certain age. He has no problem with gays, believes in equal marriage, had come round to the idea that Shane probably is one, but he’d never expected to be presented with such material evidence of that. Again, heterosexual – just the thought of that makes most straight men of his age clamp their legs together.
Of all the things David had imagined the future might hold when he held his baby son for the first time, this was not even on the cards. He feels like his father, which is also not something he had ever thought would happen, his father sitting on the couch, pointedly cleaning his shotgun and calling David’s sister’s first boyfriend ‘punk’, like something out of a bad movie.
At the time this struck teenaged David as melodramatic and deeply embarrassing. They lived in the city! It wasn’t even his dad’s gun, he’d borrowed it from David’s uncle! But right now, middle-aged David sees the picture and finds it good. Eminently understandable. Maybe he can ring up his sister’s husband (thankfully not the first boyfriend) and borrow one of his guns. He has so many, it baffles David, but now, at last, he understands the appeal. He’s not proud of it, but he does.
And when he thinks of all those women dangling off Rozanov’s arm over the years, the, the floozies, bottle-blondes in fur coats, God. What is this tomcat going to do to his only son? Is he really going to stick around, and if he does, is he going to treat Shane right? Or is he going to fuck around on him and break his heart, Shane who doesn’t love easily but loves forever?
Shane must have picked up on the fact the evening had not gone smoothly and said something, because the next time they see each other every time the kid opens his mouth it’s to call David ‘Mr Hollander.’ Twice, ‘Mr Hollander, sir’, which makes David suspect he’s fucking with him. Yuna is ‘Mrs Hollander’ until she breaks sometime around dessert and say ‘Ilya, call me Yuna, for God’s sake.’
David does not offer equivalent permission.
*
In theory, summer over, Shane back in Montreal, Rozanov in Boston, Shane’s Awful Boyfriend should be less of a hovering spectre in their lives, but unfortunately Shane appears to be belatedly going through the teenage stage he never had, where everything single thing ties back to that one person. ‘Ilya thinks… Ilya says… Oh, yeah, Ilya and I…’ every phone call. Shane is palpably besotted, frighteningly infatuated to David’s eye.
Yuna finds it funny. David wishes they could go back to talking about the intricacies of Shane’s macrobiotic diet.
Then Shane shows up unexpectedly on an off-day. The drive isn’t that bad, but it represents a significant disruption to Shane’s schedule, usually a sacred and immovable entity, and it is sufficiently out of character to worry David.
‘Is everything okay?’ Yuna says, pretending she isn’t vibrating with anxiety.
‘Everything’s fine, Mom,’ Shane says. ‘I wanted to ask you something and it seemed, um, it seemed better not to do it over the phone.’
Ominous.
Yuna makes an encouraging face at Shane even as she gives David a little nudge to tell him to arrange his face before it freaks Shane out.
Shane says stiffly, ‘I wanted to ask if I can bring Ilya to Christmas.’
‘Honey,’ Yuna starts, but Shane quickly goes on.
‘I don’t mean to actual Christmas dinner, I know you’ll want to have Grandma and Grandpa and everyone, but I thought we could do Christmas Eve, he’d fly out and be there by the afternoon. Then he and I will go to the cottage, then he’ll fly out on the 26th.
‘Christmas isn’t on the 25th in Russia,’ he adds. ‘And Ilya says his family did more for New Year’s anyway, his dad wasn’t religious.’
‘You’ll miss Christmas?’ Yuna asks. She sounds incredibly hurt, and David can’t lie, he’s feeling pretty wounded himself.
‘I don’t want to leave Ilya alone,’ Shane says simply. ‘We hardly see each other during the season anyway.’
‘Oh,’ Yuna says. Her face is scrunching up and she’s breathing through her nose, like she’s working her way up to saying something.
Yuna is going to say yes. Yuna is going to say yes, and then when Shane leaves, she is going to cry, and David really can’t take it.
‘If it’s not his Christmas, he’ll be fine, won’t he, then,’ David says bracingly.
Shane stares at him.
‘Your mother and I would really prefer for you to be there for Christmas. Actual Christmas. What can we say to everyone if you’re not there?’
‘That I’m training. That I’m busy, that I’m sick. That I’m with – that I’m with my boyfriend.’
‘Shane,’ Yuna says but Shane talks over her. ‘We’re planning for me to come out to the team, so why not the family first? Who’s Grandma going to tell anyway, her pastor?’
‘Your grandfather won’t like it,’ David says, because he won’t.
‘Too bad,’ Shane snaps – actually snaps!
‘And what, do you want us to tell them about Roz – Ilya too?’
‘No, but you could just say, you could just say it without mentioning his name.’
‘Do you want us to do that, honey?’ Yuna asks more calmly than David could have managed.
Shane takes a breath and shakes his head. In a moment, if they aren’t careful, he might begin to be wordless, or start to hyperventilate. Yuna comes closer and begins to rub his back in the large, slow circles that have always been the only touch their son tolerated when he was riled up.
‘I just want to be with him for the holiday,’ Shane says in a small, small voice. ‘I know it doesn’t matter to him like that but it matters to me, and I hate – I hate that he’ll be alone. I don’t want him to be alone, Mom, Mom, he’s alone all the time, I don’t want him to be on his own.’
‘Sh-shsh,’ Yuna is going, just like when Shane was small. ‘Of course not. It sounds like a plan. We’ll tell your grandparents you got sick and didn’t want to infect them. It’s okay. Christmas Eve sounds like fun.’
‘They were looking forward to seeing you,’ David says without meaning to. Yuna shoots him a sharp look.
‘I know,’ Shane says. ‘But it’s not fair to Ilya.’
David can’t help it. He pulls a face.
‘What?’ Shane asks, face hardening. Yuna tries to intervene but he puts out a hand and repeats himself. ‘What, Dad? What’s that for?’
‘I don’t see how it’s unfair to Ilya,’ David says carefully. ‘It’s pretty unfair to your grandparents, I do know that.’
‘He’s my boyfriend,’ Shane says sharply.
‘So he takes precedent over your family?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘He has the worst attitude on ice, and he’s thoroughly disrespectful.’
‘Oh no,’ Yuna says. ‘No, David, that’s too harsh.’ David looks at her with a certain amount of betrayal. He knows she doesn’t like Rozanov’s attitude either. She's said so before and at great length over the years.
‘Well, I’m sorry, but he’s been pretty obnoxious every time we’ve met him,’ David says instead. ‘I never talked to your father like that, Yuna.’
Shane opens his mouth and closes it again. Then he says, ‘Dad, you do know he’s afraid of you, right?’
David’s first response is to scoff. Rozanov isn’t scared of anything, let alone a running-to-seed fifty-year old Canadian public servant.
‘He wants to impress you,’ Shane continues. ‘And also he finds you both intimidating. So he, uh, fronts. Acts like he isn’t bothered.’
‘He said this to you?’
Shane gives him a look.
‘Not like that, but I can tell.’
Yuna asks, ‘Why would he be intimidated by us?’
Shane says patiently, ‘You’re my parents. We’re very close and he knows that. You both went to university and he knows that too. Ilya didn’t exactly focus on school, and he didn’t actually finish high school. His dad made him drop out at sixteen to focus on his hockey career. He’s really smart but English is his second language and you both scare the fuck out of him.’
It’s sweet that Shane wants to see the best in his boyfriend but his emotional intelligence isn’t the best. David’s often worried about that, worried that Shane will misinterpret things and have his heart broken. Or his head kicked in.
‘Are you sure?’ Yuna inquires doubtfully. ‘He doesn’t come across as scared. And he never seems at a loss for what to say.’
‘His English isn’t always great,’ Shane says defensively.
‘The kid’s been in the country ten years,’ David says before he can stop himself.
‘And Mom’s uncle has been in the country fifty, and he still can’t do his taxes,’ Shane counters. ‘Ilya learnt English playing hockey, for fu– Dad. It doesn’t give you the most expansive or sophisticated vocabulary. He can’t exactly talk about economics with you. Sometimes he just says whatever comes into his head first because he doesn’t want to admit he doesn’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Or he’s unsure so he makes a joke to cover it up.’
‘You’re saying he doesn’t speak English?’
‘I’m not saying his English is bad. Just, the whole situation’s tense enough already for me, and I’m your son. I wouldn’t want to be doing this in Japanese.’
‘Because you never let me teach you,’ Yuna says coolly.
Shane concedes. ‘No, and I, um, I do regret that, Mom. I really should have – But my point is, English is my first language and having the three of you in the same room still scares the shit out of me. And I’m your actual son. It’s way worse for Ilya. He doesn’t know you, but he knows you don’t like him.’
‘That’s not true,’ Yuna says immediately, and wow, David is really feeling the sting of betrayal. He knows Yuna doesn’t like Rozanov. He saw her face the last time when Rozanov hugged her goodbye. It was the exact same expression Shane makes hugging his aunt.
‘Well, you’ve definitely been giving that impression. To me. He hasn’t said anything. He wouldn’t.’
‘We’re adjusting,’ Yuna says. Unfortunately, she says it as David allows the devil to possess his tongue again and says ‘We just want to know he’s good for you, Shane.’
‘He doesn’t need to prove himself!’ Shane shouts – Shane, who hardly ever raises his voice, who even as a kid was good, was quiet and easy and hated loud noise. His tantrums were rare and incredibly tamped down for the most part. It had almost been funny, toddler Shane flinging himself to the ground and beating the carpet in complete, deadly silence. Almost funny, if it hadn’t been frightening. He took things so much to heart even if he didn’t always show it like other people.
‘That’s not what I said!’ David tries weakly.
‘You don’t like him, fine,’ Shane spits out. ‘But I do like him. I love him, and you’re going to have to respect that. Or we’re going to have a problem. Or I won’t, I won’t, anymore I won’t – ’
Won’t what? That incoherency bodes extremely ill, shows exactly how worked up Shane is. How has this escalated so far and so fast? Shane, their only son, implying he’ll what, estrange himself from them ? It’s an emotional threat and when they all calm down Shane will never ever follow through but just the fact he said, just the fact…
‘There must have been nice men in Montreal,’ David says under his breath. Unfortunately, Shane hears him and is glaring daggers.
‘It was funny once,’ Shane says furiously. ‘Ilya is nice. He’s nice to me. He’s a good person.’
‘Okay!’ Yuna says very, very loudly. ‘I don’t think this is a productive conversation anymore. Shane, I’m sorry if Ilya thinks we’ – with an evil look at David – ‘don’t like him. He clearly makes you happy, honey, and that’s all that matters.’
Shane is taking deep, angry breaths. Yuna is talking to him softly, looking at David to back her up.
David doesn’t say anything.