Chapter 31: The Long Game: Chapter 31

Ilya was, of course, happy to see all the support Troy got during the week following the Pride Night game. He was sure there was plenty of the other side being vocal online, but those people were getting drowned out, and they didn’t matter anyway. It made Ilya hopeful that things might be okay when he and Shane announced their relationship.

He was only a little jealous when he saw how much lighter Troy seemed. How easily he smiled now. How openly Troy and Harris were affectionate with each other, knowing they didn’t need to hide. Knowing they had the support of the team. Ilya imagined it felt wonderful.

When they were on the ice, waiting for practice to start, Troy approached Ilya. “Hey.”

Ilya nodded at him. “Barrett.”

Troy snatched a puck that was against the boards and began moving it around with his stick blade. “So, I want to, um, thank you.”

“For what?”

“Giving me the push I needed, I guess. Being…supportive.”

Ilya stole the puck from him. “It is called being a friend.”

“Yeah, well. Not in my experience.”

Ilya passed the puck back to him. “How has it been? Being out?”

Troy smiled. “Amazing.”

There was a twist of jealousy in Ilya’s chest, but he ignored it. “Good.”

“And also, Harris was wondering if you…” His voice dipped to a nearly inaudible mumble.

“What?”

Troy sighed and straightened his shoulders. “Harris wants you to come to dinner at his family’s farm this Sunday. As a thank-you.”

This was completely unnecessary, and possibly more than Ilya could deal with right now, emotionally. He was ready to politely decline, but something occurred to him. “Will Chiron be there?”

Troy’s lips curved up a bit. “Yeah. And a bunch of other dogs.”

Well. Ilya could probably make time for a bit of dinner.

“Aah! Harris, who is this good boy? He is even bigger than Chiron!” Ilya was crouching in the driveway in front of the Drover family farmhouse with an enormous brown dog’s paws on his shoulders.

“That’s Mac,” Harris said. “He’s trouble.”

Ilya rubbed Mac’s face with both hands. “He is not trouble. He is very good.”

Ilya had been to Harris’s family’s apple farm once before, but not to the house. He’d gone to the grand opening of Harris’s sisters’ cidery, which was also on the property. That had been nice, but the farmhouse looked fucking adorable.

And there were .

“Why do I have a house?” Ilya joked as a second, smaller dog bumped its nose on his thigh, looking for attention. “I could live in a tent here and be so happy.”

“You should come inside,” Troy called from the front porch. “It’s freezing out here.”

“I have not met everyone yet,” Ilya argued as he twisted around to greet a third dog. “Who is this one?”

“Not sure yet,” Harris said. “She just got here.”

The unnamed dog was medium-sized with long hair that was a mix of brown and white and gray. She had floppy ears, big brown eyes, and the sweetest face Ilya had ever seen.

“You are new!” Ilya said to her as he scratched her soft ears. “You will love this farm.”

“She was found by one of our neighbors,” Harris said. “People tend to bring strays here because my parents are good with them. Mom took her down the road to see Linda to get her checked out.”

“Linda is a vet,” Troy supplied.

The dog licked Ilya’s fingers, making him laugh. “Not shy at all, are you?”

“She’s in good shape,” Harris said, “considering she was alone outside in the cold. Linda thinks she was found pretty quickly, thank god. She’s super friendly—the dog, I mean. Shannon’s been taking good care of her.”

“Shannon’s that dog,” Troy said, pointing to the smallest dog there.

“No one owns her?” Ilya asked as he stood up. The unnamed dog squeezed between his legs.

“Not that we’ve been able to find. We know everyone around for miles.” Harris’s face turned angrier than Ilya had ever seen it. “Sometimes people drive dogs they don’t want out to the country, though.”

“And them?” Ilya asked, horrified. He’d grown up in Moscow and had seen plenty of stray dogs, but the idea of someone abandoning a dog that loved them—a part of their family and their home—was monstrous.

Harris nodded. “Yeah. It’s gross.”

“It’s fucking horrible,” Troy said.

Ilya headed toward the front door with five dogs all around him. Chiron walked in front, but kept turning to make sure Ilya was following. The new dog stayed close to Ilya’s ankles.

The house smelled amazing, and it was just as charming as Ilya had imagined. Packed with family history and people laughing and, yes, dogs.

“I think most people are in the living room,” Harris said, leading the way.

“Buckle up,” Troy muttered, “it gets loud in here.”

There were five people sitting in the living room. Harris went around the room, reintroducing Ilya to his two sisters and their husbands. When he got to his mom, Ilya interrupted him.

“How could I forget?” he asked silkily. “The best dance partner I have ever had.”

“Oh, stop it,” Mrs. Drover said. She was a short woman with gray hair that was cut into a stylish bob. He’d enjoyed a dance with her at a team charity event last year, which had thrilled Harris. Like her son, she was funny and easy to talk to.

“Is true,” Ilya insisted. “No one else has come close. Are you still with your husband?”

“I’m afraid so,” said a booming male voice behind Ilya. He turned and saw Harris’s dad grinning in the doorway.

Ilya sighed theatrically. “Too bad.”

Harris’s sister, Margot, stood to offer Ilya her armchair, but Ilya waved her off and sat cross-legged on the floor. “Are you sure?” Margot asked.

Ilya already had three dogs trying to climb into his lap. “Yes,” he said. “All of my friends are down here.”

Eventually they all moved to the dining room, where they crowded around a table and ate an incredible meal that included baked ham, scalloped potatoes, and, to Ilya’s delight, fresh-baked rolls.

“Dad made those,” Harris said. “They’ll go fast.”

For dessert there was chocolate cake. “This is so good,” Ilya exclaimed after his first bite. “Who made this cake?”

“Troy did!” Harris said proudly.

“With a of help,” Troy added quickly. “I’ve never baked a cake before. Or anything, really.”

“You bake together!” Ilya said, grinning. “That is very cute.”

Troy dipped his head, but Ilya could tell he was blushing.

After dinner, Troy asked Ilya if he wanted to go outside with him. Ilya understood that he was looking for privacy, so he nodded and grabbed his coat and hat.

As soon as they were on the front porch, Troy blew out a breath that floated into the frigid darkness as a white puff. “I love that family, but man.”

Ilya laughed. “Is a lot of talking. Like a whole pile of Harrises.” He paused. “You would probably like to be in a pile of Harrises.”

Troy nudged him with his elbow. “Shut up.” He gripped the railing at the front of the porch and gazed up at the night sky. There were already a zillion stars visible. “You know something? This has been the best week of my life.”

“Good to hear.”

“I never thought—” Troy shook his head. “I just didn’t think I could have this, y’know? Have all of it. Being openly gay. Playing hockey. Being with someone as great as Harris. I feel, like, a million pounds lighter.”

Ilya suspected he knew why Troy was telling him this. “You think I should do the same.”

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, but yeah. I think you should.”

Troy didn’t know the whole truth, though. He was right, that Ilya coming out as bisexual wouldn’t be such a big deal. Not in a bad way, anyway. But that wasn’t the biggest secret Ilya was hiding.

“I’ve gotten so many messages, or whatever,” Troy said. “People online replying to my posts. Telling me how much it means to them that I came out. I don’t read them, really, but Harris tells me about them. It’s nice.”

“That part is very good,” Ilya agreed.

“I understand hiding, but if I knew how good it felt to be out, I may have done it sooner.” He turned to face Ilya. “So that’s why I’m telling you. So you know.”

Ilya looked at him seriously. “It is not only my secret to tell.”

Troy’s brow furrowed. Then his eyes widened. “Oh. Oh! You’re with someone.”

“Yes.”

“Who’s also closeted?”

“Sort of. Yes.”

“Is it…is it who we talked about before? In New York?”

Troy had almost guessed that Ilya was dating Shane, back in New York in December when Ilya had come out to him. It had confirmed Ilya’s suspicion that anyone who learned Ilya was bisexual would figure out pretty quickly that Shane was his boyfriend.

Ilya didn’t say anything now, just like he hadn’t said anything in New York. He wanted to tell Troy that Shane would be his husband soon. He could, probably. Maybe. Except Ilya still couldn’t quite believe it was actually going to happen.

“It’s none of my business,” Troy said, breaking the heavy silence. “But, um, if it was someone like that, I can see how that would be…complicated. Yeah.”

Ilya turned his attention back to the sky, and changed the subject. “Look. The Big Dipper, yes?”

The door opened behind them and Harris stepped out. Chiron, Mac, and the new dog followed him onto the porch. The new dog immediately went to Ilya, sniffing his sneakers.

“She likes you,” Harris said.

Ilya bent and gave her some pats. “I am hard to resist.” She really was cute. And soft. And she seemed like she’d be a good listener.

“So,” Harris said slowly, “we’re going to have to find her a new home, probably.” He and Troy shared a , and Harris added, “We love dogs here, but we don’t have room for one more at the moment.”

Ilya narrowed his eyes. “Harris. Are you trying to set me up? Is this a blind date with a dog?”

Harris smiled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, pal. This is just a friendly dinner with a sweet dog who needs someone to love her and give her a big, fancy house to explore.”

Ilya glanced down at the sweet dog in question, who was gazing at him with her tongue lolling out of her mouth. Could he? There had to be a way to make this work. There were dog daycares, right? Ilya had no idea if they were any good, but he could look into it.

“How do I do it?” he asked. “I have not ever had a dog.”

“Good thing you’re friends with me, then,” Harris said cheerfully. “I’m an expert. And we can keep her here at the farm for a bit until you’re ready to bring her home.”

The dog put her front paws on Ilya’s shin, her mouth stretched in a smile as if she knew what Ilya was thinking.

“Anya,” Ilya said, smiling back at her. “I think her name is Anya.”

Shane had no idea what to expect when he pulled into Ilya’s driveway nearly two weeks after he’d last seen him. Ilya had said he had a surprise for him, and the level of excitement in his voice suggested it was a big one. If they weren’t already engaged, Shane would have thought he might be about to be proposed to.

Ilya’s front door opened as Shane approached. Ilya stood there wearing sweatpants, a loose T-shirt, and an enormous smile.

“What’s the big surprise?” Shane asked.

Then he heard a curious bark behind Ilya. A second later, a smallish fluffy dog trotted out between Ilya’s legs.

“Who’s is this?” Shane asked, eying the dog warily. He wasn’t great with animals. “You dog-sitting for someone?”

“No,” Ilya said, then bent to scoop the dog up in his arms. He cuddled her close to his chest, and the dog licked his cheek lovingly. “This is Anya. She is my dog.”

“You—what? How?”

“Someone abandoned her. In the cold. Monsters,” Ilya growled. Then he kissed the top of Anya’s head. “She needed a home. I needed a dog.”

There was a list of reasons as long as the Rideau Canal why this was not the best time in Ilya’s life to become a dog owner. Shane was about to start listing them, but Ilya’s mouth was stretched wide in one of his rare unguarded smiles, and it made all the reasons float away.

Shane reached out a tentative hand and stroked one of Anya’s ears. “Man. She’s so soft.”

“She just had a bath,” Ilya said. “I took her to the dog spa. Full treatment.”

Shane smiled. “She’s going to be so spoiled.”

“Oh yes. Terrible. Come see all her toys I bought.”

It was not a small amount of toys. As soon as Shane reached Ilya’s living room he spotted at least a dozen brightly colored things on the floor, and on the couch, and there was what looked like a chunk of rope on the coffee table. There was also a luxurious dog bed near the fireplace.

“So, um,” Shane said. “When did you get Anya?”

“Yesterday.”

Shane laughed. “Glad you didn’t go overboard shopping for her or anything.”

“The dog spa sells toys.”

Ilya set Anya on the floor, and she immediately ran over to a stuffed seal and began chomping on it happily. Shane didn’t know much about pets, but he would have expected a dog that had been abandoned to be more timid and rough-looking. Shane hugged Ilya from behind. “I love you, but I have to ask this: Are you sure you didn’t steal someone else’s dog?”

“No! Listen.” Ilya told Shane about how Anya had been found out in the country, and how Harris’s family had looked after her. They’d continued to look after her after Ilya decided, more or less immediately, to adopt her, until he had enough downtime to properly get her used to his house.

They spent the rest of the morning playing with Anya on the living room floor. She was tireless, joyfully chasing after anything they tossed and proudly returning it to them. When they took breaks, she would wiggle her way into one of their laps for pets, completely shameless and adorable. Shane realized he was more into dogs than he’d thought. They took her for a walk, which meant strolling around Ilya’s neighborhood together, but that was okay. Shane smiled at the little red boots Ilya put on Anya’s feet.

“Is to protect from the salt,” Ilya explained. “And keeps her little paws warm. At the spa they said she does not need a sweater because her hair is long. Too bad because there was a sweater that looked like a strawberry and was so cute.”

“They didn’t have one in your size?” Shane teased.

They walked beside each other on salt-crusted sidewalks. Shane itched to hold Ilya’s hand, so he kept his own hands stuffed firmly in his coat pockets. Soon, he reminded himself. Soon they’d be…well, a family, he supposed. Now that Anya was in the picture.

“So,” Shane asked carefully, “when you’re on the road…”

“There is a place that can take her,” Ilya said. “Like a hotel for dogs.”

“A kennel?”

“A . I have already talked to them, booked time. I went a few days ago to tour it. Very nice. She will be okay there.”

That seemed like an easy enough solution. Although Shane suspected Ilya would worry about Anya whenever they were apart. “Does the hotel have a live camera so you can watch her?”

“Of course it does,” Ilya said.

“You know you can’t use the coaches’ iPads to check on her during games, right?”

Ilya was silent a few seconds too long, then said, “I know.”

They didn’t have sex that night because when Shane had tried to get things started, Anya had started whimpering outside Ilya’s bedroom door.

Shane paused in the middle of the trail he was kissing up Ilya’s inner thigh. “Go get her,” he said, smiling and sighing at the same time.

Ilya bolted out of bed and opened the door. “Anya, sweet girl. What is wrong? Are you lonely?” He picked her up and carried her to the bed.

Shane was sure this was setting a bad precedent, but Ilya was lying on his back with Anya’s head resting on his bicep and it was really hard to care about rules.

Shane lay on his side, perpendicular to Ilya, and rested his head on Ilya’s stomach. He joined Ilya in petting Anya, enjoying the soothing feel of soft fur and warm dog under his fingers. He put a hand on her back and felt the soft rise and fall of her tiny body as she breathed.

The room was quiet, and so full of love it was almost suffocating. And if someone had told Shane that morning he’d rather pet a dog until she fell asleep than have sex with his boyfriend, he never would have believed them. But life was full of surprises.

“I think she’s asleep,” Shane whispered.

The only response from Ilya was a sigh that sounded a bit like a snore. Shane raised his head, and smiled at his sleeping boyfriend, who looked happier and more at peace than Shane had seen him in months.