Chapter 3
When he sees Volkov again at the Star Showcase, Declan feels inexplicably nervous.
As they sit for the press conference, he lets his mind slide into the same place it usually goes when he has to do press.
He puts on a smile, laughs at the jokes, and pretends like he loves being there.
When a particularly complicated question gets thrown Volkov's way, Declan can see him trying to formulate a response.
It occurs to Declan for the first time that Volkov has done what he never managed to do, learn his soulmate's language.
He can tell Volkov is struggling to find the words to answer, so he jumps in. Volkov looks at him gratefully, and he feels a tap to his foot as their shoes line up.
It feels like every nerve ending in his body is centered on that point.
It feels impossible to resist later, when Volkov gives him his room number.
As he makes his way to Volkov's room, he thinks again of his soulmate.
He definitely hasn't met her yet, though it would be hard to tell.
Despite centuries of study, no one has been able to exactly discover what makes a soulmark finally appear.
Some couples get them immediately, and others don't appear until years into a relationship.
He's even heard of some couples who develop theirs at different times.
No, he definitely hasn't met her yet.
He doesn't know any girls who speak Volkhovian.
So that's that.
She's out there somewhere, waiting for him.
And he's here, in an elevator, on his way to (hopefully) hook up with Mikhail Volkov again.
He pushes down the feeling of guilt.
He doesn't owe her any loyalty, not yet.
This stuff with Volkov doesn't mean anything, anyway.
They're both just biding time until they meet their soulmates.
When he gets inside Volkov's room, it's only a matter of seconds before they collide, lips bruising, Volkov's tongue insistent in his mouth.
It feels exciting in a way none of his kisses with his exes ever have.
After they make plans to fuck in Ashford, Declan is more than happy to take Volkov's cock into his mouth again.
He's been practicing on the dildo Volkov made fun of him for, and after several extremely embarrassing attempts he is glad no one saw, he feels like he can try out the new trick he learned.
His first attempt at deep throating an actual cock is less than successful.
Volkov is bigger than his dildo, unfortunately, and it takes Declan a few moments to move past the embarrassment of choking on Volkov's dick.
His second attempt is significantly better, if the way Volkov is cursing is any indication.
He feels a hand in his hair, guiding his head, and loses himself to the pleasant buzz in his brain.
"Fuck, never had a mouth this good before,"
Volkov grunts in Volkhovian.
Declan is almost positive he would not have said that if he knew Declan could understand him.
He preens at the praise silently, both because he doesn't want to give any indication he heard it and because his mouth is otherwise occupied.
Later, as Declan sits against the headboard and comes down from the fuzzy afterglow of the amazing blowjob he got as a reward, Volkov turns to him.
"Thank you again, for earlier.
Sometimes is hard to find the words in English.
I am slow learner." Volkov sounds almost self-conscious, and Declan simply refuses to let that be.
"No, no. Your English is really good.
I know it's hard to learn a language that your soulmate speaks." Declan is afraid to say more, but he lets the implication hang there.
That maybe he has a soulmate that speaks another language, too.
"Yes, well, is also for my soulmate, so," Volkov says, like it's obvious that he would learn English for her.
Declan feels the same guilt from earlier seep through him.
He hasn't learned Volkhovian; he gave up.
Why did he give up?
It occurs to him, then, that maybe Volkov could give him some insight on his soulmate.
They're not the same person, obviously, but they do speak the same language.
"Do you hope that she's doing the same?
Learning Volkhovian for you?"
Volkov considers the question before answering.
"I guess maybe.
I know she will understand me no matter what language I speak.
But sometimes it is nice to have conversation in Volkhovian," Volkov says, looking sad for a moment.
"I only speak Volkhovian with my father and brother.
It would be nice to speak it with someone who—"
He cuts himself off, looking away from Declan.
He takes a deep breath.
"Someone who what?" Declan asks, voice gentle.
"Nevermind, is not important.
It would be nice, but I would not blame her if she did not." Volkov says.
Declan hopes his soulmate has the same mindset.
"You speak Gallican, right?" Volkov asks, like he's just remembering it.
"Yeah, I do.
I don't use it as much as English, but I'm fluent."
Volkov nods at that, considering his answer.
Declan is confused for a moment, before he remembers.
Volkov's soulmate speaks Gallican.
"I can't, like, teach you or anything.
If that's why you're asking," he clarifies.
He's very good at learning, but not so much teaching.
In any subject.
No, I don't want you to teach me Gallican," Volkov replies, sounding put out.
Declan feels stupid suddenly.
"Would you want your soulmate to learn Gallican?" He asks.
Declan thinks about it.
Honestly, while he would like to have a language in common with her, he doesn't really care whether it's English or Gallican.
Maybe it'll even be Volkhovian, if he can get his ass into gear and actually learn the damn language.
"I think as long as she spoke English or Gallican, it'd be fine.
I don't need her to speak both," he answers.
Mikhail nods, but doesn't say anything else.
Declan takes it as his cue to get dressed and leave.
They exchange phone numbers, and Declan can't keep the smile off his face as he rides the elevator back down to his floor.
Two weeks, and then Volkov will fuck him.
He tries not to feel guilty about the thought that crosses his mind next.
He really hopes he doesn't meet his soulmate in the next two weeks.
He doesn't meet his soulmate in the next two weeks.
He also, notably, does not meet Mikhail Volkov, due to bad weather.
He doesn't see Volkov again until the PHL awards, and even then it's hard to track him down.
He has to get through crowds of people congratulating him for Newcomer of the Year, but as his eyes scan the room, he doesn't see Volkov anywhere.
Eventually he gives up looking and resolves to get some air.
The shot he did with Dale Whitman is maybe affecting him more than he thought.
It figures that that's where he finally runs into Volkov.
He looks pensive, staring at the Brightmore skyline as he smokes a cigarette.
Their conversation is tense in a way it hasn't ever been before.
Volkov seems on edge, and when he yells at Declan that not everything is about him, Declan feels about two feet tall.
He knows not everything is about him.
It almost never feels like it's about him, not really.
It's sometimes about the idea of him, of what he can do or sell, but it's never about
For the first time, he finds himself wishing she were here.
His soulmate.
Maybe she would see through the Declan Whitfield brand, to the lonely, anxious person underneath the hockey gear and sponsorships.
He realizes he was maybe subconsciously hoping Volkov could also see him.
It seems a silly thing to want now.
They are so different.
Volkov is heading back to Volkhovia for the summer, and he has three more commercials to film before he can escape to his cottage.
"I guess I'll, uh, see you next season?" He offers his hand for a shake, telling himself that this is probably for the best.
He should distance himself from Volkov, put an end to whatever this thing between them is.
It can't go anywhere.