Chapter 1
A few months after Maxim joined the Mustangs, his apartment had a gas leak.
Maxim hadn't been there, but it was apparently serious.
Maxim couldn't really understand the building manager through his thick accent.
Which was funny, because it seemed like the building manager couldn't understand Maxim either, so the two of them ended up communicating via affirming or disapproving noises and hand gestures.
In any case, Maxim would have to stay out of the building temporarily- a week or so while they fixed the line, if he'd interpreted correctly.
And it was just his luck that this happened when they were gearing up for the season with regular practice times, so it wasn't like he could just load his car with groceries and stay at Ethan's cottage.
Perfectly inconvenient.
Maxim had just been on the precipice of booking a hotel whilst sitting in his parked Maserati after practice when his phone screen was interrupted with a call from Ethan, who'd seen his earlier texts about the leak.
"You haven't paid for a hotel yet, right?" Was what Maxim was greeted with as soon as the call connected.
"Well hello and good evening to you too," replied Maxim faux curtly, though he was used to Ethan's straight-to-the-point phone calls now.
Ethan, of course, ignored the antics and continued, "I told my mom what happened and she said you can stay with them.
Do you have everything already or do you want my dad to go help you with getting stuff from the apartment?"
Maxim's teasing smile that had unconsciously formed dropped.
"Um," said Maxim, because he didn't know what else to say.
He understood all that English perfectly well, even if Ethan was talking a little more rushed than usual.
He was just... a little blindsided.
Stay with Naomi and Greg?
By himself?
That would be... awkward, to say the least.
So far, after the cottage incident, Maxim and Ethan had met with Ethan's parents three times.
Once right after, once out to dinner, and once at their home.
The air was never outwardly tense, considering the circumstances, but Maxim could not imagine being alone with Naomi and Greg without Ethan as a buffer, let alone sleeping in their home.
He'd been on his best behaviour, showing absolutely zero hint of his snark on the ice nor any PDA towards Ethan in his parents' presence, at least after that initial coming out meeting.
Maxim presented as boring.
Very boring, like a piece of cardboard, and he could sort of feel the cardboard politeness back as they discussed the weather (was it like Vorlan?
How are Vorlan summers?) and the food (What exactly is borscht made of?
Greg wanted to know).
He didn't blame them.
"Naomi... said I could stay?" pressed Maxim, also wondering if Ethan had somehow conjured that up.
It wasn't that Maxim could feel any animosity from Naomi, especially after he'd made it so clear that Ethan was his everything, even more than hockey, but he could understand her apprehension and residual looks from the decade she'd spent watching number 81 on ice as her son's mortal enemy.
He wouldn't blame her or her husband at all if they still actively disliked him, actually.
"Yeah," replied Ethan.
"You have nowhere else, right?" Well, right.
Maxim had gotten to know the Mustangs pretty well at this point, but asking to stay at someone's house after knowing them for only a few months was a bit much.
Then again, wasn't intruding on your boyfriend's parents, who definitely didn't approve but kept their mouths shut in support of their son, so much more than that?
"I can stay at a hotel," steered Maxim.
"Is not like I am missing money."
"Yeah, but you're probably gonna eat junk all week if you stay in a hotel."
"StayHub, then.
Anyway I already do that."
Contemplative silence, then a loud sigh from the other end, muffled by static.
"Yeah, okay.
It's okay.
I just- yeah.
Alright.
Love you."
If there was anything Maxim could say he improved since he and Ethan had made it official, it was reading Ethan like a book.
Whether the 'fuck off' said with a completely straight face was actually a playful, happy 'fuck off' or a lights too bright, noises too noisy type of 'fuck off'.
If that sniffle was just a residual cold or the start of an anxiety attack, Maxim knew it all too well.
"Wait," said Maxim, because he knew now, too.
And now that he knew, he had to do it, he had to suck it up.
"Actually...
I will stay.
Yes."
"Really?
!" replied Ethan, and Maxim couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from curling up when he thought of Ethan's eyes lighting up at the prospect of his parents and boyfriend finally getting along.
How cowardly Maxim had been, to try and run away and remove this hope from Ethan.
Even if the outcome wouldn't be what he wanted, Maxim still had to be the one to try.
He owed that to Ethan.
He had to face it, for Ethan.
He was Maxim Orlov, menace on the ice and beyond, what was he so afraid of?
"I'll text my mom and tell her to set up," said Ethan.
"Great," replied Maxim, trying to sound as well as possible.
"Text me when you're there, okay?"
Maxim promised, with his mouth a little dry.
"Hi Maxim," said Naomi, opening the door with a smile that Maxim wasn't sure if it was plastered on or not.
"Come in."
Maxim wiped his free hand that wasn't clutching his bag on his joggers and took off his shoes, placing them neatly by the doormat.
His hands were a little clammy, which he felt ridiculous for.
He'd already met this woman four times at this point, they'd sat across the dinner table from each other at this very house making small talk.
Maxim really didn't know what he was being so awkward for.