Ilya laughed loudly at that while Ryan huffed and shook his head, smiling at his boyfriend with a palpable amount of love in his eyes.
“Sounds fun,” Shane said, mostly meaning it. He’d never been one for live music, but he was curious to see Fabian do his thing. And he was a bit charmed by the fact that Ilya had planned a surprise date, of sorts, for the two of them.
They made small talk about Montreal until their server came to take their drink order. The young man introduced himself as Leo, and then his eyes went wide as if he’d just recognized who was at his table. Shane braced himself for a selfie request, but Leo surprised him.
“Are you Fabian Salah?” he asked in a hushed voice.
Fabian only answered with a sly smile.
“Holy shit,” Leo said. “I am such a huge fan.” He pressed a hand briefly over his mouth, then removed it just as quickly. “Sorry. I’m going to your show on Friday. I booked the night off weeks ago.”
“That’s lovely,” Fabian said. “Thank you. I’ll try to make it worth it.”
“Everything you do is incredible. I saw you play in Toronto once and I am just so...wow. Sorry. Okay, I’m cool. What can I get you to drink?”
Shane heard Ilya snicker beside him. Across the table, Ryan was beaming with pride.
“I’d love one of your mojitos,” Fabian said. “I see other tables with them and I’m jealous.”
“Of course,” Leo said, smiling dopily as if Fabian had him in a trance.
“I will have this one,” Ilya said, pointing to a card on the table advertising a local brewery’s products. “The pilsner.”
“Right! Yes,” Leo said, snapping back to attention. “Good choice.”
“I’ll have the same,” Ryan said quietly.
“Do you have unsweetened iced tea?” Shane asked. He saw the panic creep into Leo’s face right away. “Never mind. I’ll just have a sparkling water with lime. Or lemon. Whichever.”
Leo gave Fabian one last nervous, giddy smile, then darted off to get their drinks. Ilya poked Ryan’s forearm, which was resting on the table. “Leo is in love with your boyfriend.”
Ryan smiled. “I’m used to that sort of thing happening. Still nice, though.”
“Ryan gets plenty of attention too,” Fabian said. “But we rarely get recognized by the same people.”
“Very different fan bases,” Ryan agreed.
“Except the queer hockey fans who think it’s, like, the best that we’re a couple.”
“Oh yeah?” Shane asked, suddenly very interested in the conversation. “What do they say?”
“They’re happy for me,” Ryan said quietly.
“And jealous of me, I’m sure,” Fabian said.
“As if,” Ryan huffed.
“Do you ever get the other side of it?” Shane asked. “From hockey fans?”
“Maybe,” Ryan said. “I stay offline and I don’t play hockey anymore, so I guess I don’t hear it if it’s out there.”
Well. Shane did play hockey still, and while he wasn’t very active online, he’d been doing more with his Instagram account since he and Ilya had started the charity. And also he was, y’know, in a committed relationship with his archrival. That was a bit different from Ryan’s situation.
Leo returned with their drinks. He gave Fabian his mojito first, which was packed with mint leaves and looked very refreshing.
“You’re a lifesaver, darling,” Fabian told him. “This is exactly what I need.”
Leo smiled widely as he handed out the rest of the drinks. He placed a tall glass of sparkling water in front of Shane with both lime and lemon wedges decorating the rim. “Have you decided what you want to eat?”
Shane hadn’t even looked at the menu. Fabian ordered a fancy-sounding pizza for him and Ryan to share, Ilya ordered a less fancy pizza to eat by himself, and Shane frantically read the menu’s salad selection.
“Um.”
“Look,” Ilya said, pointing to something lower down the menu. Shane quickly read the description of the grilled salmon with sauteed vegetables and roasted potato and almost kissed him.
“I’ll have the salmon with no sauce, and could I get the vegetables with no butter? If that’s a problem, maybe a side garden salad instead of the vegetables?”
“Sure, uh. That shouldn’t be a problem.” Leo sounded uncertain as he wrote everything down. “If it’s a salad, which dressing would you like?”
“Just a bit of olive oil and red wine vinegar, if it’s not too much trouble. Or a lemon wedge.”
“He is very fun to go to restaurants with,” Ilya teased. Everyone laughed except Shane, who irritably bumped his knee against Ilya’s.
“I’m on a strict performance diet,” Shane explained defensively after Leo left. “It’s normal for professional athletes and recommended.” He aimed this last word at Ilya, who ate like a thirteen-year-old most of the time.
“Shane thinks he is getting old,” Ilya said. “He fears death.”
“That’s not it at all! I fear not living up to the expectations of the Montreal Voyageurs organization and our fans.”
“Would be easier to cheat death,” Ilya said, “than to meet Montreal’s hockey expectations.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“Do you both play for Montreal?” Fabian asked.
“No. Just me. Ilya plays for Ottawa.”
“So it’s not a super-long-distance relationship,” Fabian observed.
Shane squirmed because this was the first time anyone at the table had directly acknowledged the fact that Ilya and Shane were a couple. “It’s, um. It’s not a huge distance, but—”
“Feels farther,” Ilya said. “We are so busy, during the season. Not much time together.”
“That must be hard. And this—” Fabian waved a hand between them “—is a secret, right?”
“A big one,” Ryan said.
“That makes it harder,” Fabian said sympathetically. He leaned in so he could lower his voice. “Why is it a secret? You wouldn’t be the only gay hockey players. Or queer. Sorry, I shouldn’t assume.”
“I am bisexual,” Ilya said, nodding. “Shane is super gay.”
“I’m regular gay,” Shane argued. “And, no, we aren’t the only queer NHL players. But our situation is complicated.”