Everything was good for the next couple of games. Their line was clicking
well and by Dany’s calculations Ilya’s plus-minus had definitely improved.
Monday night, the day after a victory over Washington at home, Ilya went to
dinner with his family and Dany went home to watch the one hockey game on
that night and to wait.
Simon was on him as soon as he was through the door and Dany wasn’t
complaining, surrendering easily to those sweet, familiar, demanding
kisses. They didn’t say anything to each other during those first
minutes, satisfying the needs of their bodies. “It’s good to see you,”
Simon whispered finally, and Dany tightened his arms around him.
“How was your game?”
Simon sighed and Dany kissed the back of his neck. “You should score more. I
can’t be seen with someone who doesn’t score.”
This elicited a laugh. “Good thing you are not dating a goalie, then.”
“Goalies are sexy in a whole different way.”
Another giggle. “I missed you, Dany.”
“Mm. Me too,” he muttered sleepily.
“Tired?”
“It’s fucking late. And practice was rough today.”
“You guys have been playing better. I like your line, Dany, it is a good one.”
“’M glad you approve, Flyer.”
“You could not beat us, of course, but still you are not bad.”
Dany sighed and reached for Simon’s hand. “Hey, I have to tell you something.”
“What’s that?”
“Ilya kissed me the other day.”
A long pause, but Simon stayed pressed close. “What did you do?”
“I kissed him back. Once. Then we stopped. And I left. I stole his car.”
“You stole his car?”
“I gave it back.”
Still, Simon didn’t withdraw from Dany’s embrace. “Ok.”
“O-ok?”
“I love you, Dany,” he said softly. And there was something in his voice that
Dany couldn’t identify.
“Simon, I-“
“Sh. It’s ok. Get some sleep.” When the rise and fall of Dany’s chest
evened against his back, Simon let out his breath. He looked at their
hands, entwined at his stomach, and traced the back of Dany’s with his
thumb. “Two years. That’s about 1.9 longer than I ever thought we would
last,” he whispered.
Dany sighed and shifted and Simon switched his quiet musings to French just in
case. “But time’s up now. I know you love him. In everything you do it
shows, whenever you talk about him.” Simon had come for this one more
time before breaking up with Dany. With the usual bullshit, of course.
It’s just too much, the distance. I can’t do this anymore. And Dany
would think it was because of Ilya, because of the kiss, and Simon would
have to assure him otherwise even though it kind of was. I just can’t do
this anymore, he would repeat.
He closed his eyes against the threatening tears. Just lies. He would always
be able to keep doing this. This was perfect, right now. But…it just
wasn’t to be. Dany’s future lay with someone else.
And Simon was pretty sure his own did as well. It wasn’t concrete like what
Dany and Ilya had…but it was something.
Simon sighed again and raised Dany’s hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles
gently. One last night.
Continued in part 6