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Ilya was way more confident than Shane when it came to, well... everything.
He was more sociable - loved bars and clubs and team dinners. He could start a conversation with literally anyone. He had fourteen different 'dog walk' friends, who were all in a group chat and sent pictures of their dogs and met up for playdates at the dog park. He walked into a room and outshined everyone. With the Irena Foundation he was able to charm and delight absolutely every donor into digging deeply in their pockets with a smile and over-the-top flirting.
Shane didn't mind. In fact, it was one of the things that he loved about Ilya. His confidence, his swagger. He took the heat off Shane willingly and he enjoyed it.
He was also better at being gay. Or queer. Wait... Shane couldn't remember what he was supposed to say. Was it... was queer still a slur or had the overall community taken that one back? He didn't know, and when he went online to ask, everyone was fighting over it and after an hour he still didn't know.
Ilya could wear nail polish and eyeliner when he went out and he looked amazing and sexy and Shane picked his nails red raw and couldn't wear contacts because he didn't like things near his eyes so eyeliner was out.
Ilya wore hot clothes, some were legitimately see-through, and looked amazing in jeans that were so low and tight it made Shanes mouth go dry and his throat click. He had a bottle opener on his keys 'for emergencies'. Shane had a little ceramic box cutter because it was sensible, because when you get home is when you open the mail, right? So you'd probably still have your keys?
Ilya wasn't 'sensible'. Ilya wasn't 'boring'.
And sure, he loved those things about Shane, and Shane knew it. Knew that Ilya loved his boring, loved his steady nature. Loved it when he fixed the leaking faucet or changed a tyre on the side of the road because of course he knew how to change a tyre - Christ, what if they didn't have cell service and got a flat, Ilya? It was sensible to learn.
But on nights like this, when everyone was in New York, and everyone was at The Kingfisher, and everyone was watching Ru Paul on the TVs... Shane felt bad. Bad at being gay. Queer. Whatever the fuck he was, he was bad at it. He hated being bad at stuff.
"You okay?" Ilya asked, leaning back into the booth that the team had claimed for the night. He looked amazing, he always looked amazing.
"Yeah," Shane grinned, and getting a kiss for his trouble. "Are you having fun?"
"Yup." Another kiss. He tasted like vanilla and vodka. Shane was drinking ginger ale. The bar kept a stock of Canada Dry for him, Kyle had told them when they'd piled in. They used to serve Schweppes. They had a cocktail named after Ilya. The 'Russian Love Machine' was a coke, vodka and vanilla coffee creamer. Ilya absolutely adored it, much to Shanes despair. Someone (and when Shane found out who, there would be hell to pay) had introduced Ilya to Dirty Sodas and now their house had 4 different types of sugar loaded coffee creamers that he changed out every week. If they played anywhere near a Swig, he'd make the whole team detour in order to get the biggest soda known to mankind, and spend the rest of the day vibrating from the sugar high.
So Ilya had a cocktail named after him, and Shane... well. He drank ginger ale. Kyle said he was working on something for Shane, but it was kinda hard when everyone and their mothers knew that Shane didn't really drink that much.
"Tell me when you want to go back to hotel." Ilya grinned, dropping another kiss onto Shane's willing mouth. Ilya's English was excellent now, after years of living in the US and Canada, but he got lazy around Shane. Shane had asked him about it once, why he spoke differently to him. "Is... easier? I know you wont make fun, and I don't have to think so hard."
So Shane loved every dropped article. Every oddly structured sentence. Every 'tell me word'.
"Will do." Shane promised. He absolutely lied. He wouldn't be going home until Ilya was good and ready.
They'd accidentally knocked a hole in the drywall. Perhaps by knocking it into the hallway table against the wall. Multiple times. Shane would not be explaining how to a fucking repair man. "I can fix this myself, Ilya. It only needs a patch. I can pick up what I need on the way back from the rink tomorrow."
"Hmm..." Ilya grinned. "Is hot, you being landlord. Fixing things."
"We're not having sex in the hall again."
"Not until fixed, at least." Ilya agreed.
Ilya wandered off to look at the lighting fixtures as soon as they walked into RONA. The man was oddly fond of lamps, Shane had noticed. Not that he minded, the 'big light' in the bedroom was way too harsh and made his skin feel weird. It didn't make sense but he chalked it up to him being 'weird'.
There was something really nice about the smell of a hardware store. When he'd been younger his dad would take him when they'd have projects. Painting his bedroom, or putting up shelves for moms books. It had been calming.
There was something very relaxing about the section with the paint chips, or the nails all neatly in size order.
He'd made a list, and was comparing the drywall, when someone said "Excuse me, sorry."
Turning, he politely moved out of the way. The woman was about 5'4, and wearing denim overalls with paint on them. She also had a list, so Shane didn't feel too out of place. However, it was clear that the drywall sheet wouldn't be something she'd easily be able to pull out from the taller shelves. "Do you need a hand with that?" Shane asked, politely, as she looked up at the sheeting.
"Uh, no, thats okay." She smiled. "I can get one of the staff to help."
"I don't mind?" Shane said, and then remembered that it might not be... feminist?... to assume she needed help. "I'm pulling down one for myself, I can get two. No issue." He paused. "Well, I'm actually going to get that one because its for a wall, but..." He paused. Did he sound like one of those asshole guys who didn't take no for an answer? Would she think he was... flirting? "Uh, my husband," Christ he loved to be able to say that, "Is in the lighting section but he can help too?"
"Husband?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Oh, cool." She grinned. "Yeah, actually, if you could pull it down that would be great." Then she paused. "You said you were fixing a wall?"
Shane nodded. He was being helpful, and he'd managed to talk to a stranger without putting his foot directly into his mouth. "Yeah, its just a patch but I figured I could cut the sheet down and keep the rest in the garage. Probably wont be the last time we fuck up a wall. Mess up, I mean, sorry."
She gave him a wide grin. "You can swear, I'm not gonna faint. But I'd recommend that one then." She pointed to a different sheet than he'd been checking out. "Its cheaper, and I've used it before - it's just as good as the 'premium' type." She paused. "You just need to make sure have a fresh blade on the cutter."
Shane looked where she'd indicated. "Huh, thanks."
"No worries. We're renovating our basement at the moment - so I've got some experience." She grinned. "Nothing like a couple of lesbians and a 'how hard can it be' attitude, huh?"
Shane smiled back. "What's the plan for the space?" He asked, as he reached up to pull down the board she needed. He was glad he was there, because it really was awkward, even for him.
"Well, I want a home gym, but Lisa - that's my partner - she wants a craft space. She wants to try making her own beer. She runs the bar on West Street. The Carabiner?"
"Huh," Shane said, putting the board onto the flatbed trolley she had. "Is it big enough for a partition?"
"Maybe?" She said, clearly thinking about it. "I'd have to do some measuring." She smiled. "Hey, thanks for the help. I'm Brianne."
"Shane."
"Maybe I'll see you around? If you show up to the bar I'll get you a beer - on the house!"
Shane nodded. "Sure, no problem. Glad I could help."
Ilya had a therapist appointment and Shane had dropped him off, which meant he had an hour or two to kill downtown. Sure, it wasn't exactly as thriving as Montreal, but there were a few little places he liked. There was a second-hand book store, which he could always count on for losing an hour or two. He was heading that way when he saw the sign for a bar. The Carabiner. The name twinged something in his memory but he couldn't put his finger on what. He could always grab a drink - just a soda, because he was driving - and maybe see what the vibe was like. Ilya was always looking for new places to take the team out after a game, and Shane would like to contribute for once.
The inside was nice, not too big but well lit - and there were a good number of booths. It also didn't stink of smoke and body odour which was an excellent plus in his books. The bar itself wasn't too big, and there was a woman behind the bar. Behind her was a wide selection of drinks and framed pictures of various groups of people climbing. Ah, of course - it was loosely themed around climbing - that's what the name meant.
The bartender looked up when he walked in. "Hey." She smiled, and Shane returned the greeting awkwardly as he sat in one of the sturdy stools. "I'm Lisa. Can I get you anything?"
"Ginger ale, if you have any?"
She nodded. "Sure thing - we've got Schweppes, Canada Dry, Vernors, Blenheim, Zevia or Reed's?"
Shane blinked. "I've heard of like three of those." He admitted, and she grinned.
"We have a few regulars who don't drink so I try to get as many weird sodas as I can. The odder the better. I think we might even have some of the ginger Olipop left?"
Shane paused. "Um," His own therapist told him he needed to be less rigid in his thinking, go with the flow. "I'll try the Blenheim?"
"Good choice!" She smiled. "Want a glass?" She asked as she pulled out a glass bottle that looked a little like a light beer.
"No, I'm good." He managed. He looked around, and noticed there wasn't anyone else around. "You are open, right?"
Her laugh was nice. "Sure are." She said, putting the opened bottle in front of him. "We're pretty quiet during the day. Picks up after 5, most of the regulars pop in after work. And we've got a few social clubs that meet here for pickups. And we're the official sponsor for the Downtown Dykes roller derby team too." She said proudly, pointing to a framed picture of a group of women on roller skates behind her. They all looked like they'd been in a recent fight, but were happy about it. "My wife is in that."
He looked at the picture closer and suddenly remembered where he'd heard of the bar. "Is that... Brianne?" He asked.
The bartender looked thrilled. "Oh, you go to games?"
"Ah, no, sorry. Um - I met her the other day, at RONA. She told me about this place."
"Wait - you're the nice guy with the drywall, right?"
"Shane." He nodded. "Um. Yeah, I think so?"
"Aww thats awesome!" She smiled. "She'd mentioned that she had some help getting it to the car, and you didn't try to tell her how to do it 'properly'. She gets real pissy when guys act like she doesn't know what she's talking about."
"Well, she looked like she knew what she was doing." Shane shrugged. "And she helped me save a couple bucks. She said you were doing your basement?"
"Yeah." Lisa grinned, pulling up a stool on the other side of the bar. "She works as a teacher, but she's really fuckin handy round the house too. Not me, I can't hang a photo without putting the hammer through the wall."
Shane found himself laughing along. "My husband is exactly the same. Luckily he's not exactly DIY inclined or we'd be on first name terms with the ER. He tried to help me fix a loose board on the deck last summer and very nearly fired the nail gun into his foot."
"Oh christ," Lisa snorted. "Thats exactly me. Better to leave all that shit to Bri - she can't throw a ball to save her life but she's like stupid good with her hands."
Shane hadn't even noticed how long they'd been chatting. After a while, a few other women had shown up, and Lisa was happy to introduce him to everyone. They were part of a running group that met up on Sunday mornings, and they had invited him along with a 'but you better keep up, we're training for a marathon', which then resulted in another conversation about routes and pace and then Shanes phone was ringing.
"Hey baby." Ilya's voice was warm and relaxed on the other side. Therapy recently had been less intense and more... upkeep. He'd admitted that he probably could stop going, but that he liked the routine.
"Hey, are you ready for me to come pick you up?"
"Are you at bookstore? I'm walking that way. Weathers nice."
"I'm actually at a bar?" Shane admitted. "Uh, its called Carabiners - on West. If you're heading to the bookstore you'll pass it."
Ilya laughed. "Shane, you're at a bar? My Shane? In the day? Who are you? Are you dying?" Another laugh. "Are you drunk? Will I have to carry you back to car?"
"Fuck off." Shane grinned. "I'm the responsible one, remember?"
"I'll be there in 10."
"Okay. Love you."
"Love you too."
Shane was in the middle of discussing the merits of different lacing on running shoes with Kelsey, who ran marathons in her spare time, when Ilya waltzed in. Shane was on his third different kind of ginger ale and was actually having a good time. The women were nice, and Kelsey had correct opinions on cardio and she understood that starting the morning with a balanced and nutritionally dense smoothie was important. She even recommended a spirulina blend that she said didn't taste half bad.
"Hello." Ilya smiled, as he made his way over to where Shane was sitting.
"Hey," Shane smiled at him. "Kelsey, this is Ilya, Ilya, this is Kelsey. She agrees with me on the algae." He added. It was important to make sure Ilya knew when he was wrong about things that would make him live longer and keep him healthy.
"No, incorrect." Ilya groaned dramatically. "Please do not do this. Is lie. People are not fish, no need to drink pond water."
Kelsey laughed. "Oh my god, such a baby. Its good for you." She looked at Shane. "My girlfriend is the same, its infuriating. It might not taste great but its so good for you - the fibre-"
"No, no." Ilya interrupted. "Please don't get him on fibre. Would eat a tree if he thought it would have fibre in it."
Shane shoved him playfully. "She's right, you are a baby."
"Your baby though." Ilya smirked, and gave him a loud kiss on his cheek. Then he paused. "Wait. What is this?" He pointed the bottle Shane was drinking from. "Is not ginger ale?" He looked around. "Who has kidnapped my husband? Is in bar, is drinking wrong thing? World is ending."
"Oh my god." Shane blushed. "Its just a different type. They have options."
Ilya looked over at Lisa, who was grinning widely, enjoying the show. "This man thinks only Canada Dry is good. Tell me your ways."
"Says the man who drinks full sugar coke!" Shane argued, three people gasped. "You wont touch Pepsi!"
"Is inferior." Ilya waved a hand. "Is Pepsi okay?" He mocked. "No, is not."
"We have Cola options." Lisa smirked.
Ilya sat on the stool beside Shane and put both hands on the bar. "Now we are talking." He smiled.
They stayed for another couple of hours, because Shane ended up pulled into a group conversation with one of Kelsey's friends about Hockey. They followed the Chargers. Shane had made them laugh. "I play for the MHL." He'd smiled. "Its like the PWHL but full of dudes."
Ilya was happy to stand beside him and occasionally would add something but was mostly quiet.
"Tell me when you want to go home." Shane had told him.
"Will do." Ilya grinned.
Walking back to where Shane had parked, he found himself oddly relaxed despite spending several hours of socialisation. Ilya had slipped his hand into Shanes and was smiling softly.
"You okay?" Shane asked, not used to to Ilya being so quiet.
"Yes." Ilya said and then squeezed his hand. "You had fun?"
Shane nodded. "Did you?"
Ilya smiled. "Was nice to see you have fun." He said. "You talked to so many people. About so many things."
Shane smiled. "I did, huh?"
"Was nice to see you in element. So many recipes for kale." He joked. "You got the phone numbers for so many women. Is first time I have seen man who bagged Rose Landry."
"Oh my god." Shane laughed, and shoved him playfully. "Shut up, you know its not the same."
"Such a player." Ilya grinned and let Shane push him around a little. "My charismatic husband."
So Shane found himself pulled into a social circle that he felt oddly connected to. When they had home games he'd join Kelsey's running club and he ended up getting season tickets for the roller derby - which ended up being something he absolutely loved. His attendance there had resulted in some good publicity for the Downtown Dykes, and the Centaurs ended up showing up to every game they could.
This meant that occasionally at Centaurs games he'd see a sign that said "Dykes for 24!" or "Homos for Hollander!" Which made Harris very happy and confused the hell out of whatever team they were playing.
"Isn't that... um, a slur?" Hayden asked, when Shane had waved up at the women holding the sign during warm-ups.
"Sure." Shane shrugged. "For you. Or anyone on your fucking team. But not for them."
"I am so confused." Hayden admitted, later that night when Shane took him to Carabiners for a couple of drinks. When they had arrived with the rest of the team, a few women had given Shane friendly waves.
"This place is Shanes local." Haas smiled. "He knows everyone here."
"But..."
"Is gay bar." Ilya said, shrugging. "But mostly lesbians. They love Shane."
"They don't love me."
"He is member of clubs." Ilya smirked. "Last week he is wearing toolbelt and building deck with three members of his rowing club, and invited to two weddings from running club. Lesbians love him."
"That's not true."
"Hey Shane!" Lisa waved from the bar. "We've got a new one for ya!" She held up a dark bottle. "Its European!"
"Lisa!" Ilya called out. "Tell Pike about how lesbians love Shane."
"Oh my god." Shane mumbled.
Lisa laughed. "He's our fave." She grinned. "He's with us."
"See?" Ilya smirked. "Is with them."