The thing is that even with people who are cool (or mostly cool) about the gay thing, the Rozanov thing is always a bridge too far. This bothers Shane, more than he lets himself admit, because it's inevitable, isn't it? He's always gonna have to defend his boyfriend against the people he loves, like Ilya's not the kindest, strongest, most beautiful person he knows. Like he's not the love of Shane's life.
It doesn't even occur to Shane that this conversation could go any better than it went with his parents, who had an impossibly quick turnaround on Ilya all things considered, until he's telling Rose and instead of her response being some variation of "why him?" she goes, "You're kidding me, Ilya Rozanov? He is so hot!"
And Shane freezes, the automatic defense sticking at the tip of his tongue. He tries to recalculate, but in the moment all he can manage is a flustered, "I- yeah. I mean he's - yeah, he is."
Something softens in Rose's expression, and then she's pulling at his arm, urging him to come sit down on the couch next to her. "You need to tell me everything, Shane! All the details, the dirtier, the better."
Shane sits, the relief flooding him enough to make his knees weak. His face feels warm but it's not embarrassment or shame coloring his cheeks - or maybe it's a little bit of embarrassment, because some of the details are really dirty, but mostly it's joy. It's pride, even.
"I'm not gonna do that," he laughs.
Rose raises her eyebrows expectantly. 'You, Mr. I-prefer-being-the-hole,' she seems to be silently saying. 'You don't want to share?'
"Okay, maybe some of the details," Shane concedes. He can't stop smiling.
"Fuck, yes," Rose squeals. She puts her hand on Shane's shoulder, standing. "Hold on, I need to get the rosé for this."
Rose waves her hand, an 'I know, I know' gesture.
The conversation lasts a couple of hours and Shane shares more about Ilya than he's shared with anyone. More than he even means to, so the rosé was definitely the right call. He can't stop himself because Rose is so happy, so excited for him. She gasps at all the right moments, giggles when Shane's blush gets impossibly brighter, leans in when Shane shows her pictures of Ilya and gives her gushing approval.
"Of course you landed the only hockey player who's even remotely as hot as you," she sighs. "You overachiever."
Shane laughs. "He's much hotter than I am!"
And that, too, feels pretty good.
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