“So. You are going to be ok then?”
Ilya kicked the door to his apartment shut and tossed the keys onto the
counter. “I have always been ok.”
Igor rolled his eyes. “Sure you have.”
“I have!”
“Ilya. You know it is not true. I know you have been lonely. I know all has
not been well.”
“Not like before.”
“Ok.”
“But things are good now.”
“Really? Already?”
“He promised.” Ilya couldn’t keep from smiling.
Igor grinned back. “He breaks it, I’ll kill him. Go to bed, Ilya.”
“Great, thanks.” Shaking his head, Ilya hugged him and headed for his bedroom.
About an hour later, Knyazev appeared in the doorway of the room in his
boxers, arms crossed across his chest. “I swear to God, Ilya, I can hear
you tossing and turning from the other side of the damn condo.”
Kovalchuk sat up, scowling at him. “I was not...”
“Whatever.” Igor stepped across the room and flopped onto the bed beside
Ilya. “You never could sleep alone.”
Blinking – because even though their relationship had gone almost back to
normal this summer, there were ways in which they weren’t so close – Ilya
watched him. “I’m fine, Igor. Go back to bed.”
Instead the defenseman pulled the covers over himself. “Nope.”
Ilya continued scowling at him. “Igor...”
He got a grin in return as Igor inched closer. “Ilya.”
Sighing dramatically, Ilya relaxed against his friend. Igor was right, he
wasn’t good at sleeping alone, and Igor’s form was familiar to him.
Knyazev put an arm around him and his lips brushed the top of Ilya’s
head. “Now go the fuck to sleep.”
*
*
*
Dany was somewhat surprised to find that breakfast was indeed cooked when he
arrived. The way the two Russians were laughing as he walked in, though,
made him realize that he probably didn’t want to ask how cooking had
gone. Still giggling, Ilya thrust a cup of coffee into his hands. “Good
morning. Merry Christmas.”
“You too...” Dany said warily. “What’s wrong?”
He was greeted with just an easy smile. “Nothing’s wrong.” And it struck
Dany that he looked well-rested, and he hadn’t been sleeping well, at
least not on the road when Heatley could take notice of such things. But
today his eyes were light, his demeanor relaxed.
“Good,” Dany said firmly, sipping the coffee and following Ilya into the
dining room. “So, I wasn’t sure you could actually cook.”
“He can’t,” Igor offered, smirking at his friend. “I can.”
“I can cook some things!”
Igor rolled his eyes and Dany snickered, enjoying the fact that Knyazev wasn’t
glaring at him for a change. “Yeah...things like orange juice,” Igor
offered.
Ilya stuck his tongue out. “Quit whining.”
Breakfast went mostly the same way. Dany pretty much didn’t stop laughing the
entire time, really, none of them did. He even thought that he bonded
with Igor a little over making fun of Ilya.
When Knyazev got up to take his dishes to the kitchen, Dany nudged Ilya’s leg
under the table with his foot. “You’re in a good mood today.”
“Should I not be?”
Dany didn’t say anything for a minute, because it struck him that if Ilya had
said ‘Shouldn’t I be?’ the easy and immediate answer would be ‘of
course’. But because of an apparent Russian aversion to contractions, he
had phrased the question awkwardly – though technically, the
meaning /should/ be the same, it wasn’t really – thus forcing Dany to
think about how to answer. “Well, no. You should be. You just...haven’t
been lately.”
“Yes...it has been difficult time.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, no, do not be. Not your fault. I am just hoping things will be better.”
“They will be,” Dany replied, leaning over and kissing him briefly, surprising
Ilya, who blushed a little. His sudden shyness was apparent in his eyes,
mixed with pleasure at Dany’s actions, and the Canadian was fascinated by
how well Ilya’s eyes – and Dany would never consider them to be a ‘plain’
brown, though maybe others would – reflected his emotion, even if it
wasn’t showing on his face.
With what could only be described as a contented sigh, Ilya tilted his chair
up on the two back legs. “Igor has to leave in a few hours because Lowell
cannot last long without him. You want to stay?”
“Of course he does,” offered the aforementioned party, “No one is to be alone
Christmas.”
Pretending to ignore Knyazev, Dany nodded. “Of course I do. I’m not leaving
you alone on Christmas.”
Rolling his eyes, Igor knelt between their chairs, putting an arm around each
shoulder. “You two always can get onto ice at your practice rink yes?”
“If no one else’s there,” Dany said, nodding.
“Well then come on. No one will be there now and we will be able to see just
how good you hot-shot forwards are, hm?”
Dany raised his eyebrow at the defenseman. “I think you will be the one being
tested.”
“Well now, I know that I can stop Ilya and are you better than him?”
“You cannot!” exclaimed Kovalchuk, following it up with some Russian
accompanied by a wounded look and causing Dany to laugh.
“All right, fine, because it’s what I want to do on my off days, play hockey.
You two have to promise no more Russian, though.”
“Mui obeshayem,” they replied in unison.
Dany just shook his head. It was going to a long afternoon. He had the
feeling, however, that it was going to be a good one. He glanced at Ilya,
still smiling, and still chattering with Igor in their native language,
obviously just to antagonize Dany. It might be a good night, too.
Concluded inpart 15