Archive of Our Own

"Yeah. They played a really good game yesterday." Shane replied, a small smile gracing his lips.

Ilya had scored a goal that was frankly obscenely hot and had definitely worked Shane up when they face-timed this morning. That, and Ilya's gravelly morning rasp, since Shane had woken him up with the call. Afterward Ilya had giddily told him all about last nights post-game celebrations, and how he felt like all the guys on the team could be great friends. He had gone on an especially long tangent, going into great detail about his new rookie Luca Haas. Haas was really talented at drawing, and was an adorably awkward duckling. Ilya had sounded very much like a proud parent at their kid's yearly showcase. The warmth that had spread through Shane's body at the assurance of Ilya's happiness had carried throughout the day, settling as a warm, fuzzy, indistinct shape in his stomach.

"So." J.J. leaned up against the wall of the elevator. "Have you spoken any more to Rozanov? He's fine after the plane and everything?"

Right. The questions brought Shane out of his musings. J.J. thought he had an unrequited crush on Ilya. Ilya had almost been in a plane crash less than a week ago. Ilya and him were not publicly out. Almost no one know of their relationship. Shane's life were not all sunshine and rainbows.

"Yeah, uh. We met up a couple of days ago when he got back to Ottawa." Shane felt the collar of his shirt itch at his throat.

He couldn't figure out if J.J. was just trying to make small talk or if he was fishing for something specific. Shane was suddenly convinced that J.J. could somehow see that he'd gotten engaged. As if the impending change in civil status was somehow branded into his very posture, written across his forehead. Shane looked at J.J. His body language gave nothing away, casual as ever. He looked as if they were simply discussing the weather or how Buffalo was certainly going to lose their next game.

"I'm glad he's alright then. I'm sure it reassured you too, my friend, seeing that he's okay with you own eyes I mean." J.J. started in French but continued in English, with a grin. "Are you sure I can't take you out? Be your wing-man for a rebound or something. God, this crush must be eating at you. I happen to know a very good bar here. With a lot of gay and bi men, but not a gay-bar. You know, perfect for plausible deniability."

Shane let out a laugh. "No, no. Thank you for offering, though." A thought struck him. "Wait. How do you know a bar that's good for picking up men covertly?"

J.J laughed so hard he had to steady himself with a hand on the wall to not tip over. "Ah. Wouldn't you like to know?" Shane found himself laughing along as well.

The laughter died out, and gave way to the quiet hum of a moving elevator, as they got closer to the floor J.J's room was on. Shane felt a wave of something wash over him. J.J had been so earnest and sympathetic about his supposed crush on Ilya. If Shane was being honest, J.J.'s reaction, to his crush, was more supportive and helpful than Hayden's reaction, to his relationship, had ever been. He felt an overwhelming need to tell J.J. bubble up in his chest.

But he was terrified. Hayden's continued disapproval—despite having tentatively gotten to know Ilya—rubbed at Shane like a raw wound. He didn't know if he could handle it if J.J retracted his support once he learned Shane was going to marry his rival. Shane was scared it would crush him.

With a sharp ding, the doors opened on J.J's floor and J.J. started making his way out of the elevator. Panic seized Shane, as if he knew that if he didn't tell him now, then he never would. If he didn't, and J.J. found out through some other way, he was sure J.J. would never fully trust him again. Shane wouldn't, if he had been lied to the way Shane was currently lying to J.J.

The words spilled out before he could stop them. "It's not unrequited, it's not—, we're getting married." Shane sucked in a deep breath. "Oh fuck." He whispered when he realized what he'd done, the whispered words echoing in the silence.

J.J. had frozen half-way out the elevator.

"What?" He said after a few seconds and turned around. Shane's panic must've shown on his face, because J.J stepped back in and placed his hand on Shane's shoulders. Grounding him.

"Ostie de calisse. Okay. This is not a conversation you have in an elevator. Come on, let's get to my room, it's empty right now." Shane could only nod as he focused on keeping his breathing level.

Shane let himself be steered to J.J room. Their steps thudding softly against the carpeted hallway. Shane spared a fleeting thought about how disgusting these carpets must be, with all the guests trudging through the January sludge before tracking it into these carpets when walking to their room with those very same sludgy shoes. J.J's grounding hands only left his shoulders to fish the key out of one of his pockets to unlock the door.

"So... You and Rozanov? Actually, really, getting hitched?" J.J asked after he'd sat Shane down on the foot of the bed and taken a seat in the room's only chair (In the Cuck Chair, a voice that sounded like Ilya ran through Shane's head).

"Yeah, uh," Shane cleared his throat. "I proposed after the whole plane thing... It... It put a lot into perspective."

J.J shifted in his seat. Twice. "But you two were in a relationship before that surely? I mean you didn't confess to your crush with a marriage proposal right?" Shane nodded.

He let himself be distracted by his surroundings to keep the panic at bay. The bed underneath him was soft, too soft probably. Shane preferred a firm mattress. At least there seemed to be a down duvet, that was nice. Shane's room most likely had the same kind of mattress and bedding.

With a furrow in his brow, J.J. asked. "Have you told anyone this?"

"No. I mean, yes. Maybe, kinda." The words tumbled out of Shane. "You're the only one who knows about the engagement, besides me and Ilya obviously. I mean it only happened three days ago." J.J gave a small nod, perhaps as a sign for Shane to continue.

He sucked in a deep breath and said. "And, about the relationship, you're kinda the only one I've told-told too. My dad walked in on us kissing, so did Ryan Price." J.J. chuckled a bit. "Rose somehow just knew," to that, J.J smiled and muttered something that sounded like Of course she did. "and Hayden found out because I reacted really weirdly to a joke he made—" J.J straightened and interrupted.

"—Hayden knows? How long has he known?" Shane would've almost said J.J looked more shocked at that than he did when finding out about Ilya reciprocating Shane's feelings in the first place, but that didn't make sense.

Shane paused. Would telling him how long Hayden had known make it better or worse? Shane definitely didn't want to make things worse with J.J. He realized he couldn't lie about it though, and he couldn't avoid answering either, so he replied. "Just over two years now, I guess."

Apparently that was decidedly not what J.J wanted to hear. The expression that Shane maybe interpreted as 'shocked' and 'slightly irritated', morphed into one that was definitely 'angry'. Shane felt a stone settle in his stomach as he realized that this was it. He was losing J.J's friendship. It hurt enough that his relationship with Hayden had never truly recovered—what with his friend always criticizing Shane's choice of a partner—and now he was losing the only other true friend he had on the team. Shane needed to say something to fix this.

"Look. I just—" He stumbled to get the words out. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. But like, I didn't even actually tell Hayden. I think he still wouldn't even know now, if he hadn't figured it out on his own. And I guess his reaction to Ilya sort of proved my assumption correct. That I definitely couldn't tell anyone else." J.J. looked even angrier, if it was possible. The sting behind Shane's eyes grew. He was fucking this all up. "I—just. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I lied to you, J.J."

"No. No, Capitaine." Shane didn't know if it was his pathetic expression or the whiny, inadequate, apology that jolted J.J into action, even if he still looked furious.

"Mon Ami. I'm not mad at you for taking the time you needed, until you felt ready to tell me." He shifted forward so his elbows rested on his knees. "I won't lie and say I'm not hurt that you didn't feel like you could tell me earlier, but—" He huffed a bitter laugh. "—that seems like another thing I can thank Hayden for. At least partly."

Shane felt a fraction of tension slip from his body, even if the confusion and the lack of a script for this conversation made him feel like he had bugs crawling up the back of his neck. Why was J.J focusing on Hayden when Shane was telling him about his and Ilya's relationship? Shane didn't think he would have to talk about Hayden at all, except for the cursory mention as he explained that he hadn't actually chosen to exclude J.J. to only tell Hayden.

J.J stood up and paced the small open space between the door and the foot of the bed, where Shane was sitting. It wasn't a lot of space, maybe 8 feet or so. Just enough for a few steps in one direction before he had to turn back around.

On his third pace, J.J. started to talk. "Don't get me wrong. The whole Rozanov thing is fucking wild. It will definitely be a shit-show when it gets out, and I will get back to you with questions when I wrap my head around this. I will probably need at least two weeks just for that, but I'll get there, promise." Shane managed a small smile at that, releasing a little more tension.

J.J stopped with his back to Shane. Anger radiated off his frame, and for a second, Shane almost thought J.J would punch the mirror to his right. He made a deep, resentful sigh, clenched fists shaking at his sides, before he started speaking again.

"But I can't even begin, to think about all that. Not when my mind is still hung up on the fact that Hayden knew and he still let me try to set you up with men. He encouraged it even." J.J. ran a hand through his hair and continued in French. "Why? Did the fucking bastard think it was funny? To humiliate me? To laugh at the gullible idiot playing wing-man to someone already in a committed relationship. One evidently serious enough for marriage. He knew, and he just let me worry about you." He turned and gestured to Shane.

Shane's stomach twisted a little. Hayden didn't want to humiliate J.J, and he didn't laugh at him as far as Shane knew. No, Hayden's issue was with Ilya. He just wanted Ilya gone, and thought one of J.J's blind-dates might finally convince Shane to leave Ilya for someone easier.

Shane explained all of this to his friend. J.J's expression turned sorrowful, some wind disappearing from his anger-filled sails. Shane looked down at the floor to avoid how the look on J.J's face made his chest tighten.

J.J. returned to his seat opposite Shane and slumped down in the chair. Still in French, he said, "You know that doesn't really help the way you think it does. Sure it means he's not an piece-of-shit person, but your explanation means he hasn't just been a horrible friend to me, but to you too."

Shane could hear an ambulance in the distance, one driver blaring his horn at another, probably to make space for the ambulance to pass. The siren getting louder and climbing in pitch before deepening as it passed by the hotel. The Doppler Effect in practice, Shane thought distantly.

J.J waited until Shane's gaze to returned to his face before he spoke again.

"To encourage me to set you up with someone else—when he knew better—was disrespectful to me, sure, and more so to Rozanov" J.J. went on a tangent. "—and sure, he might not like Rozanov, but you obviously love each other, and you're obviously somewhat good for one another if you've lasted this well despite everything working against you. That alone means Hayden should, if he were a good friend, at least respect Rozanov for how he makes you feel."

Shane's throat felt tight and his back ached with stiffness. This was not how he thought this conversation would go. 

J.J. spoke in a soft but firm tone. "But most of all it's disrespectful to you. To make you feel like you have to choose between your relationship and his friendship, when by all rights you should be able to have both. The man calls himself your best friend and he still attempted to force you into a corner."

Shane blinked two or three times in quick succession. Shane hadn't really thought of it like that. When J.J. phrased it that way, Hayden's actions sounded less 'simply annoying', and more 'outright disrespectful'.

Some anger returned to J.J's expression, but Shane thought he might also be able to see some traces of resignation there. "And that is what disappoints me most. I might've been able to forgive him for being a jackass who thought it was funny to laugh at his friend's cluelessness. But for him to do this—" J.J. cut himself off and took a breath before he continued, voice gravelly with carried anger. "—To knowingly, and on purpose, place himself between you and your relationship, especially when we've both worried about you being lonely, might be unforgivable to me. Especially when it's clear, in hindsight, how much of your adult life has centered around Rozanov."

Shane pinched the back of his own hand in an attempt to ground himself in his body's sensory input. Unforgivable. As much as he had become increasingly aware that Hayden was damaging their friendship over the last couple of months (the last couple of years, if he were honest), Shane didn't know if he could handle also being the reason for J.J never forgiving Hayden.

"No, I mean, it's not just Hayden. You know what they're like." Shane said in English. He needed to clear this up. "They're like cats and dogs. Ilya is constantly antagonizing him."

"Shane." J.J deadpanned, and stared at him like Shane was trying to convince him that the sky was green. "Rozanov is an asshole to everyone, even people he likes and respects. I remember some of his shit-talking at the summer camp, to Leah and Max; two people I know he respects, and to you and Wyatt; two people I know he likes. I think it's probably just how he shows affection, right? You can't tell me you believe he's been trying to actually infuriate Hayden." At that, Shane shrugged. "What is that thing he's always calling Hayden?" J.J. asked.

"Montreal’s fifteenth best player." Shane mumbled the answer.

"Right." J.J let out a humor-less chuckle. "And you're telling me that Hayden, the professional hockey player of over a decade, is taking that one to heart and doesn't see it for what it clearly is; either the tamest chirp ever, or lighthearted banter between friends. Next you're going to tell me Rozanov actually intends to hurt Hunter's feelings when he calls him a dinosaur for the millionth time. How often is Rozanov chirping Hayden on shit he's actually sensitive about? How often is Rozanov really veering into the 'mean' territory?" As a side-note he added, "And don't tell him this, but some of his chirps are actually fucking funny. He's not entirely terrible, you know."

Shane smiled a little and said, "I'll take it to my grave."

J.J. ran his hands over his face. "The point is," J.J. returned to speaking French. "Hayden takes Ilya's antagonizing to heart because he want to take offense, even when it's clear that Rozanov is treating him as something closer to a friend than an enemy. And for him to do that when he knows that Rozanov is in a serious, committed relationship with his best friend is unacceptable."

J.J. gestured down at himself. "I mean, I haven't even seen you two act as a couple yet and I still know you must be good for each other based on how you two interacted at camp this summer, and how much more settled you seem around him. Hayden should be able to see that too."

After a moments silence, J.J. asked, "And besides, has Rozanov ever actively tried to get you to stop being friends with Hayden—or me?" Shane shook his head, so J.J. carried on, "So they're not equally responsible. With this Hayden has been a bad friend. On the contrary, all things considered, it sounds like Rozanov has been a pretty good boyfriend about this."

The silence returned and stretched between them. Shane heard the whistle of the air-conditioning unit start up, and a pair of hotel residents make their way down the corridor with heavy, thudding, steps, wheeling a pair of even heavier suitcases. One of them, a woman, talking loudly on her phone about some problem with the Lunar New Year celebration she was supposed to be hosting in three weeks. Once they'd passed he instead picked up on J.J's heavy, but somewhat steady, breathing. He watched as J.J cracked his knuckles, sharp pops ringing out one by one.

Shane felt as if the two of them were standing on the edge of a precipice or cliff, both knowing they would have to jump. The question was if they should aim for the water, with the hope that it was deep enough and without sharp, jagged, rocks that could cut them, or to aim for the rolling hills, with the hope that the ground wasn't too hard and that the shrubbery would break their fall.

He didn't know what the options represented in real life, and knew even less what option he was supposed to choose. He also didn't know if he could convince J.J to choose the same option, or if he even wanted him to. He just knew he didn't want his friends to blame him for forcing J.J. down the wrong choice.

"Just... Don't say it's unforgivable without letting him try to fix it, or at least without hearing him out. I don't want to be the reason you wont be his friend anymore."

The anger in J.J, that had half-settled during their conversation and in the lull afterwards, swelled again. "It would be the ostie de gros colon who would be at fault. Him. Not you. No matter what I decide to do about him, it would be because—" The bang of the door to the room next to them slamming shut interrupted him. Instead, he exhaled sharply and slouched down further in the chair.

After a couple of deep breathes J.J. continued, in French, "I don't know... Everything about his actions make me angry right now. I'm angry at him for treating me like shit, for treating you like shit, fuck, I'm even angry at him for treating Rozanov like shit. And it makes me angry at myself too. That you are going through all this shit, and that I didn't notice it. That Hayden is a fuck-ass friend about it, and that I didn't notice that either. That you didn't trust me enough to feel like you could tell me, and that I probably made it worse... It all fills me with so much fucking anger that I don't know what to do with it."

Shane swallowed around the lump in his throat. J.J. must've seen on his face that he was about to apologize because he interrupted. "No, stop. My anger is not your fault. None of this shit is really your fault." He sighed.

J.J. got out of his chair and stepped closer to Shane. Standing where he was—as tall as he was—put J.J's head in line of the AC, and Shane saw one of his curls swaying a little as the AC moved the air around his head.

J.J. put a hand on his shoulder and looked down at his face. "Look, thank you for telling me. If I had been ambushed with this some other way, I'm not sure I'd have been able to grasp my anger enough to direct it where it's deserved. I would've put my foot in my mouth much more, I'm sure of it." J.J. looked almost sheepish the admission.

"So, thank you for trusting me, I'll sort my shit out about the whole Rozanov deal and come back to you with an honest reaction when I'm not busy being angry and hurt by Hayden, okay?"

Shane looked him in the eyes, for the first time that afternoon. "Me and you—we're cool, Capitaine." J.J. said, keeping eye-contact, and giving him a single nod. Shane mirrored the action.

J.J. moved to take out a hoodie from his bag as he said, "Hayden is in your room right?" At Shane's confirmation he explained, "I'm gonna go talk some shit out with him. If I didn't and he came up to me acting all normal before the game, I'm not sure I wouldn't punch him."

He walked to the door. His frame still tightly wound, hoodie in hand. "I'd rather you didn't tag along, so you can stay in here if you want. Call your fiancé or something. Tabarnak de calisse, that shit is insane. I'll text before I come back." J.J. shot him a wink before the door closed, leaving Shane still sitting at the foot of the bed, in an otherwise empty hotel room.

J.J. was leaping of the edge, and Shane would see tonight which option he chose. After that, Shane would have to make his own choice. Because, as bewildering as J.J's reaction had seemed to him, the indignation on Shane's behalf had made him realize just how much energy and mental capacity the whole thing took from him. He couldn't keep walking on eggshells around Hayden in an attempt to keep him from berating Ilya. The situation was untenable. But would he aim for the water or the shrubbery? Or maybe, J.J leaping first would open up another option. Perhaps J.J. would find a ladder at the bottom that he could prop up to help Shane get off the precipice.

Shane fell backwards on the bed and fished his phone out of his pocket. He had a fiancé to call. J.J. was right, Shane having a fiancé was fucking unreal.