It was a picturesque scene, Dany decided. It was 5:00 in the morning, and
they’d gotten back from hanging out with the team just before 4. The back
porch of Dany’s suburban home was large, and he had a porch swing, and
Ilya liked sitting out there. Which is where he was now, at 5 am, a half-
full bottle of vodka and a shot glass on the table beside him. Dany
stepped out onto the porch, not really feeling the chill in the air that
the real Georgians had been complaining about. Ilya looked up and smiled
at Dany’s arrival. “Why you are up?”
“I could ask the same of you.”
“Da, but you were asleep when I left.”
“So, you being gone woke me up.” Dany sat down next to him, close, feeling
the warmth of his skin through the thin t-shirt.
“Oh...I thought maybe that you collecting on our bet would keep you asleep.”
Dany blushed and mumbled that it wasn’t a serious bet.
“It was, yes. I did not mind doing my part for losing.” This statement was
accompanied by a wicked grin.
“Mm. So what are you doing out here, anyway?”
“Thinking,” was the quick answer, then a pause. “Thank you for tonight.”
“I was the one collecting...”
“Nyet, not that. For trying so hard tonight, to give me a goal.”
“Oh! ...well, it’s my job.”
“Not really...not like that. And if you had not scored I would be mad at you.”
“Would you.”
“You deserve 40. You have played such very good hockey this year.”
“So’ve you.”
Ilya nodded, but not completely in agreement. “Some of time. I...will be
better next year, hm?”
Dany laughed. “You were seventh in goals in the whole league, buddy. And
you’re promising to get better?”
A nod, and Ilya turned to him with a half smile. “Fifty next year?”
“You’ll get it,” Dany said, and leaned over to kiss him deeply. Ilya tasted
like the vodka he’d consumed, and Dany drank it in.
“Fifty, huh?”
“Mm-hm.”
“You will.”
“I know.”
They kissed again, then Dany sighed. “Now. What were you really out here
thinking about?”
“This summer.”
Dany was quiet for a minute. “We have worlds.”
“Yes, that I look forward to.”
“You...you’re going back home?”
“I have to...I want to.”
“Mm.”
“I am sorry...I want to be with you, you know that...but some things I have to
do. I am sorry.”
“I’m not mad. We have Finland. That’s another month.”
Ilya sighed deeply, shifting a little closer to Dany but still reached for the
vodka bottle, pouring another shot. He didn’t down it, just sipped the
clear liquid. Tasting home, Dany thought. “More hockey, yes.”
“More hockey wasn’t what I was referring to.”
He got a small smile and Ilya finished the shot and replaced the glass on the
table. “Yes...more time for other things, too.” Dany stretched his arm
across the back of the swing and by default Ilya’s shoulders. The Russian
tilted his head to look at him and Dany could see signs of the alcohol.
“You’re drunk,” he said softly.
“Mm-hm,” Ilya agreed. He took a deep, shuddering breath and rested his head
on Dany’s shoulder, tilting his body a little and reaching around to rest
his left hand on Heatley’s stomach in a sort of embrace.
For his part, Dany tangled his fingers in the dark hair. “You ok?”
“Of course, yes,” Ilya murmured. “Just will be long offseason. Without
you.” He sighed again, his breath warm on the skin of Dany’s neck.
“Well...you know where I’ll be. I mean, probably. I don’t know. I guess
I’ll be here some and Calgary some. ‘cause I do live here now, I mean,
really live here, with the house and everything, so I should stay here
even in the offseason. Even though it’s really hot. But I do want to see
my family and home and stuff. You could with me to visit home for like a
week right after worlds. Or I could come with you...I’ve never seen your
house. Or town.”
“Mmkay.”
His eyes were closed, and Dany grinned. “Are you asleep?”
“Da...tebya lyublyu,” was the mumbled reply.
“Love you too,” Dany said softly, feeling Kovalchuk’s breathing even out.
Smiling, Heatley reached over him for the vodka bottle and watched the sun
rise.
Fin.