Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

Bad Friend Hayden Pike, Good Friend Jean-Jacques Boiziau | J. J. Dagenais, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Dom/sub, but it's hollanov so you know they're not putting a name to it, Depression, Anxiety, Eating Disorders, Homophobia, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Language:

English

Series:

Part 3 of The Queer Hockey Agenda

Stats:

Published: 2026-05-07 Updated: 2026-05-10 Words: 8,828 Chapters: 3/8

The Many Reactions of Shane Hollander

Summary

(to The Many Plans of J.J. Boiziau)

So J.J. had figured out that Shane’s secret boyfriend was Ilya after less than twelve hours of even knowing that he had a secret boyfriend. And it had been… fine? His reaction hadn’t been at all what Shane had expected. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.

But one problem at a time. He was sure that he was a bad boyfriend to Ilya, no matter what J.J. had said, and he needed to find a way to fix it.

Or, some moments from Shane’s POV that J.J. wasn’t present for.

Notes

Never let the fall of your country’s government after a no-confidence vote, rampant inflation, technical recession, and having the highest budget deficit in the EU keep you from what actually matters: writing Hollanov fanfiction.

Chapter 1: Christmas

So J.J. had figured out that Shane’s secret boyfriend was Ilya after less than twelve hours of even knowing that he had a secret boyfriend. And it had been… fine? His reaction hadn’t been at all what Shane had expected. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.

But one problem at a time. He was sure that he was a bad boyfriend to Ilya, no matter what J.J. had said, and he needed to find a way to fix it.

J.J. had been right about something, though. Ilya was very good at reading people, and if he trusted someone, it meant that Shane could trust them too. He felt like a controlling asshole for being so scared of him coming out to his teammates, and even more of a controlling asshole for taking up all of his free time. Ilya was the best person Shane knew, and he deserved to have a support network bigger than Shane’s parents and a best friend who lived in another country.

Unfortunately, the ball of anxiety that just kept growing in Shane’s stomach from all these thoughts made him put off broaching the topic until after they’d left his parents’. And it had probably also made him a bitch to deal with while they’d been there. Another thing to apologize for.

He started pacing the length of the living room as soon as they got home, psyching himself up. He didn’t notice Ilya disappear upstairs and come back down with a neatly wrapped present in hand, but he did notice the moment when the tension in his face evaporated, confused concern taking its place.

“Moy lyubimyy, what’s wrong?”

Shane sat down heavily on one end of the couch.

“Please forgive me for being a bad boyfriend.”

The concern in Ilya’s eyes just grew. He sat down next to Shane, abandoning the present on the coffee table and taking one of Shane’s hands in his. His other hand went to the nape of Shane’s neck, squeezing reassuringly.

“Shane, no. What makes you say that? You’re not a bad boyfriend. You know I love you.”

“I know. I love you too. Just… listen.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Ilya’s touch was helping, even though it was also making him feel guilty. “I had a talk with J.J. yesterday, and it made me realize some things.”

“J.J.? Boiziau?”

“Yeah… so, umm, he also knows about us now. I didn’t tell him about you, but he was trying to set me up with one of his gay friends again, so I sort of exploded and told him I have a boyfriend. He figured the rest of it out himself.” Shane let out an amused snort, suddenly remembering one particular detail. “He actually thought that you were straight and I had an unrequited crush on you, that’s why he kept trying to find me someone to date.”

The corner of Ilya’s mouth lifted slightly, but Shane could feel that some of the tension was back in him.

“Anyways, he reacted, like, surprisingly well and told me that keeping our relationship a secret was harder on you than it was on me because you can’t talk about it with any of the people you spend most of your time with and my parents don’t count because they’re my parents.” He rushed through the explanation, barely taking a breath.

Ilya gave him another reassuring squeeze and a peck on his temple.

“Yes, it is hard, sometimes. I want to tell everyone I meet how much I love you, and it kills me that I can’t. But I understand why it has to be a secret for now. And it doesn’t make you a bad boyfriend.”

Shane shook his head.

“I was an ass to you when you told me about coming out to Troy. I know I already apologized, but I still didn’t fully get it at the time. I made you isolate yourself from your team, and you’ve already given up so much to be with me. I am so, so sorry, Ilya.” His voice cracked on the last sentence.

“I would give up more,” Ilya said simply. “Anything for you.”

“Fuck, Ilya, I don’t want you to. I want you to have people you can talk to. Friends, here in Ottawa. I want to build a future with you here.”

Ilya’s jaw worked for a moment, as if he was trying to decide what to say. Then he said, “I have been seeing a therapist.”

Shane was surprised to hear that. He knew that he’d been the one to first suggest it, months ago, after he’d noticed Ilya’s withdrawn mood following their “wedding” in the Pikes’ living room, but Ilya had been quick to shoot the idea down at the time.

“She speaks Russian. I’ve been going to see her for a while now, and I think it’s helping. I also talk with her about us. Sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner.” He retreated a fraction away from Shane, looking guilty. It broke Shane’s heart.

“Oh, Ilya…” He pulled him back in, guiding his arms around his torso and his head into the crook of his neck. “I’m glad you’re getting help. If you need it. And that you found someone you can talk to.”

He heard Ilya sniff, and felt his tears wet his skin. He combed his fingers gently through his curls and rocked them slightly, side-to-side.

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want, but what made you decide to see a therapist?”

Ilya let out a shaky breath, and mumbled quietly, “I think I have depression. Like my mother.”

Shane’s own eyes turned blurry, and he didn’t bother to fight the tears back. His beautiful, kind, and brave boyfriend, living with so much pain inside him, barely showing any glimpses of it. He’d do anything to make that pain go away, but he didn’t know what to say. So he just held him tighter until Ilya’s crying stopped, and the taut lines of his body went lax in Shane’s arms.

Ilya was the first to pull away, disentangling them with some difficulty. Shane took his boyfriend’s face in both hands, wiping the tears off his cheeks with his thumbs. Ilya gave him a wobbly smile, then chuckled.

“I didn’t even give you your present.”

He retrieved it from where he’d left it on the coffee table, then handed it to Shane. He sat back, waiting for Shane’s reaction with still-shiny and red-rimmed but eager eyes.

Shane carefully unwrapped the gift. It was a framed photograph that he’d never seen before, but immediately recognized – the CCM ad campaign Ilya had orchestrated to hold together, back when they barely meant anything more to each other than rivals with an unexplainable spark between them. This must have been one of the shoots they’d messed up by being too unserious. Shane’s nose was scrunched up, and Ilya’s eyes were crinkled, but they still held each other’s gaze.

“How’d you get this?” Shane asked quietly.

“I found out the photographer’s name and his email. I asked if he still had those. He sent me some and that one was my favourite.”

It had never occurred to him that anyone would’ve kept the unused material, but he was glad. He thought about what he would say to those two boys in the picture if he could – something about getting their shit together faster, probably. They’d been so young and stupid about each other back then. Although he was still pretty stupid sometimes, Shane thought as he pulled his gaze away to look at the present-day version of Ilya. He was anxiously searching Shane’s face, as if for clues about what he thought of the gift.

He placed the picture carefully back on the coffee table and pulled Ilya into a slow, deep, and salty-tasting kiss. They were both getting worked up and panting by the time they broke apart.

“I love it. I love you. Can we make more copies of it?”

Ilya’s face lit up in delight. “Yes. Of course. But why?”

What he was about to say made the ugly, paralyzing fear that lived inside him rear its head again. But fuck it. He wanted to give his boyfriend the opportunity to be more open, didn’t he? And they still could be careful if anyone they didn’t fully trust came around to either of their homes.

“Mom will also want it at their cottage when she sees it. And I thought… one for our cottage, one for here, and one for Montreal?” He asked with a sheepish smile.

Ilya basically tackled him against the cushions with the force of his next kiss.

Shane was sure they both looked like complete messes, but he didn’t care. He wanted his boyfriend inside him right at that moment. Luckily, Ilya seemed to be of the same mind. Neither of them had the patience to even suggest going up to the bedroom, instead shedding their clothes then and there and letting them drop to the floor.

Ilya made him get up on his knees and hold onto the back of the couch as he kneeled on the floor behind him and opened him up with his tongue.

Minutes later, Shane whined at the loss of his touch. Ilya got up, and Shane watched over his shoulder as he went to crouch in front of the TV.

“What are you–”

Oh. He had a bottle of lube stashed there. Convenient.

His head fell between his arms the moment two fingers began circling his rim while another two pinched his nipple.

“Just fuck me, Ilya. Come on, I’m ready enough.”

A kiss to his spine, then, “Are you sure, moya lyubov?”

“Yes. I want to feel you. Please,” he begged, pushing his ass back insistently.

Another kiss to his spine. Then Ilya did as Shane had asked.

His left hand travelled down from his chest to his hip to keep him steady. His right hand slicked up his cock and lined it up with Shane’s hole. They let out twin moans of pleasure as Ilya thrust inside. He set a punishing pace after making sure once again that Shane was okay, pressing his entire chest and the side of his face into the back of the couch. Shane could do nothing but gasp helplessly and take whatever Ilya gave him. It was always one of Shane’s favourite feelings in the world.

It was so good, and it ended way too soon. Ilya mindlessly rutted into him, chasing his own release and spilling deep in him. Shane was left rock-hard and wanting more. He squirmed under the weight pinning him down while Ilya regained his breath, his softening cock still inside Shane.

Ilya didn’t wait too long to do something about Shane’s aching cock. He pulled out, flipped Shane over, and sank back to his knees in front of the couch, all in one smooth, continuous burst of motion. He licked him, from root to tip, then thumbed at the precum leaking out of him while sucking his balls into his mouth. Shane squeezed his eyes shut and moaned, loud and desperate. His hips bucked up out of their own accord, cock searching for more friction. Ilya let his ball pop out of his mouth and, pinching the inside of his thigh hard, looked up at him sternly.

“You will stay still if you want to cum, yes?”

Fuck. Shane wanted to cum so bad, he didn’t even dare nod his head and just whimpered.

Ilya pinched the inside of his thigh again. “Yes?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

“Yes. Yes. Please let me cum, Ilya.”

Ilya hummed, satisfied by his answer. Then he took him into his mouth, sucking with enthusiasm, as if he was just as desperate for Shane’s cum. It took barely any time after that for Shane to spill down his throat and for Ilya to swallow every last drop.

Shane floated bonelessly in the post-orgasm haze, sparing only a passing thought to the cum that was leaking out of his hole and probably staining the nice cushion. They had enough money to buy a new couch if this one ended up ruined beyond saving. Ilya got up and leaned over him, placing soft kisses on his forehead, closed eyelids, cheeks, nose, chin, and finally a loving, languid kiss to his lips. Shane opened his eyes and smiled lazily up at him when they broke apart.

“Are you okay, moy nenaglyadnyy?”

“Mmm, never better.”

Ilya gave him another quick peck to his lips. “Wait here.” As if Shane would’ve been able to move at all.

After a bit of puttering around in the kitchen, Ilya came back with a glass of cold water and a damp towel. Shane loved him so fucking much.

Later, once they were showered and cuddling back on the couch they’d managed to clean to the best of their abilities, Shane noticed him looking slightly nervous. There was a cheesy Christmas movie playing on the TV – the kind Ilya was secretly very fond of, and Shane was very fond of indulging him by watching together – but Shane could tell that Ilya wasn’t paying any attention to it. Instead, he kept opening his mouth and clenching his jaw in turns, as if wanting to bring something important up but not sure how. Shane waited until the movie was over, hoping that Ilya would figure it out by then. As the credits began rolling, he finally did it.

“Bood is having a party tomorrow.”

He said it casually, as if there was no particular reason he was letting Shane know. But if that had been the case, he wouldn’t have spent the last two hours looking like that. Did he want to… go with Shane to the party? He froze. Being more open about their relationship in theory was one thing, but being confronted with the very real possibility of it happening tomorrow…

Ilya steamrolled ahead. “Not big. Mostly just the team and partners, and I think the kids will be there, too. They are cool people. I think you’d like them. We can go just as friends. They know you would be in Ottawa for Christmas, and with the Foundation, it would make sense for me to invite you. Plus, you already know Hazy from camp, and I’d like Troy and Bood to also coach next year.”

Finished with his pitch, Shane saw him hold his breath as he waited for a response.

Shane hesitated to give one – the anxiety was back full-force. Ilya seemed to deflate more with every silent second that passed.

Fuck it.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He perked back up.

“Yeah, okay. You trust them, right? I’m not like… ready to tell everyone everything yet. But I’ll come with you to Bood’s party.”

Ilya squeezed him in a hug so tight he thought he might pop like a balloon and peppered his entire face in quick kisses.

“Thank you. Fuck, Shane, I love you so much.”

They made more of an effort to reach the bedroom this time around. They only managed to make it as far as the middle of the stairs.

Ilya had been right – Shane was enjoying himself. He’d insisted on a full run-down of everything he needed to know about the people who would be there earlier in the day, pictures included, preparing himself like he would for a networking event. He needn’t have worried so much, though. The atmosphere was much more relaxed than that of any Voyageurs party he’d attended to fulfil his duties as Captain, and Ilya’s steady presence that never left his side made all interactions go smoothly.

Bood’s cooking was also nothing short of phenomenal. Shane had filled his plate with things that were compatible with his diet, which were surprisingly many. He secretly suspected that Ilya had given Bood a heads-up regarding what he could eat after he’d agreed to go. It was really considerate of both of them. Still, sitting around the firepit and enjoying the food, Ilya’s thigh a hot brand against his own and with the snow falling in flurries beyond the deck, Shane felt so content that he let himself be tempted by Ilya’s already half-empty plate.

He looked up at Shane in surprise, then smiled in delight as Shane chewed the piece of barbecue sauce-covered chicken he’d stolen. Ilya’s expression told him that he wanted to kiss him, but he settled for pressing their thighs closer together for a moment. Then he took out his phone and snapped a quick photo of his plate.

“To remember this historic moment.”

Shane snorted and bumped his shoulder against Ilya’s. “Don’t be an asshole.”

Ilya visibly bit back the innuendo he would’ve made, had they been alone.

The party started to wind down soon after that, the players who had brought their now-yawning kids leaving first. It was just them, their hosts, Wyatt and his wife Lisa, Troy Barrett, and Harris Drover, the social media guy Ilya had told him Barrett had a crush on, left. Shane felt a spark of nerves rush through him. These were the people on the team that Ilya was closest to. Two of them were gay. One of them already knew that Ilya was bisexual. Would it be so bad if…?

Shane decided to be brave. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, centering himself. And then he took Ilya’s hand in his.

Ilya turned to him with wide eyes and furrowed brows.

“Shane? Are you sure?”

He nodded. Even if he wasn’t completely sure, he did want to be. The possibility of Ilya being so unhappy in the closet that Shane might lose him to the same thing that had taken his mother was far scarier than being out to the people Ilya trusted. Even though Ilya had assured him that it wasn’t Shane’s fault and he didn’t, like, actively want to kill himself. If this was one thing that Shane could do to make it easier for him, he would do it.

Ilya gave him possibly one of the brightest smiles Shane had ever seen on his face, eyes slightly shiny with brimming tears. He blinked them away, then cleared his throat to address the people around the firepit who were starting to look at them.

“Everyone, I would like to officially introduce my boyfriend. Shane Hollander.”

He squeezed Shane’s hand encouragingly. Shane choked out a small “Hi” and grimaced.

To his relief, everyone looked more or less surprised, but not disgusted. Barrett was bright red for some reason.

Bood was the first to break the silence by coming over and clapping Ilya on his back.

“Good on you for landing Hollzy, man,” he said, grinning.

Wyatt nodded to himself. “I thought so. I’m happy for you two.”

“What do you mean you thought so?” Shane’s voice pitched up embarrassingly. Fuck his fucking anxiety, like, genuinely.

“Don’t worry, you’re not obvious or anything.” Wyatt shrugged. “Goalie eyes. I just notice more things than most people.”

“Yes, Hazy, you’re almost as perceptive as me. Troy can get third place. He knows why.”

That made Barrett turn a deeper shade of red. He suddenly seemed to find his shoes very interesting.

“I’m guessing that not many people know?” Lisa asked.

“Yeah, and, umm, we’re not planning to go public anytime soon, but you’re Ilya’s friends, so…” Shane trailed off, shrugging.

Harris smiled kindly at him. “Thank you for trusting us with it. We’re all happy for you and promise to keep your secret, right?” There were nods of agreement all around the deck. “If you don’t mind, how did you two get together?”

“Oh. That’s a bit of a long story.”

Ilya grinned, excited like a puppy. “Can I tell it?”

The eight of them ended up staying out for longer than probably anyone had anticipated when they’d first arrived. It didn’t take Ilya long to make everyone laugh, and it took him even less time to needle Shane into their usual banter by being loudly wrong and annoying about their history. They collectively realized that they should be leaving when Lisa mentioned being mindful of Cassie’s pregnancy and letting her rest.

“Wait! Before you leave,” Cassie stopped them and shuffled through the small stack of Polaroid photos she’d been taking all night. She handed one of them to Shane. “Here, I think you should have this.”

“Oh.”

Shane hadn’t noticed her taking that one. It was him and Ilya, caught right after one of their mid-story arguments. Ilya had his arm slung around his shoulders and was in the process of smacking an obnoxious kiss to his cheek. Shane remembered not being able to fight off his grin and keep his faux-annoyed expression on. He gave it wordlessly to Ilya. He didn’t think that he would be able to say anything right then without bursting into tears. This was their first couple’s photo together.

“Are you two good?” Wyatt asked, concern clear in his tone.

Ilya’s voice was thick when he answered. “We don’t have any photos together that aren’t from official events. We couldn’t, in case anything leaked.”

“Fuck, man. Can I hug you?”

Ilya opened his arms to Wyatt.

“Troy, Harris, come here. Team group hug for our Captain,” Bood declared.

Shane stood a bit awkwardly on the side with Cassie and Lisa as Ilya was enveloped by his teammates and Harris, hoping that he wouldn’t get dragged into the group hug too. But it was nice to see that there was so much love and support for his boyfriend here.

He’d have to make sure that they found the perfect place to hang the photo.

Chapter 2: Dinner with the Pikes

Chapter Notes

Shane got the text from Hayden inviting him over for dinner just a few minutes after arriving home from their first post-Christmas practice. He seriously considered not accepting.

He would’ve honestly preferred to just go straight to bed and wait for Ilya to FaceTime him. He’d made the choice to spend the night with him in Ottawa and wake up insanely early (even for him) so he could get to Montreal in time. He’d do so again in a heartbeat, his nights spent in Ilya’s arms being too few and far between, but he was still pretty tired.

And that wasn’t taking into consideration the fact that, the more he thought about it, the more he came to realize that Hayden had really been a not very good friend – Ilya had also agreed with all of J.J.’s opinions when Shane had told him about them. But, maybe, there was still something salvageable there. Shane didn’t want to lose one of the people he was closest to on the team.

He agreed to go, deciding to settle for a short nap until then.

The phone call he got from J.J. just seconds after sending the text made him even less excited for the dinner. But it would be rude to change his mind now. And at least Jackie and the kids would also be there.

Dinner was… fine. A bit awkward, sure, but still mostly fine. Shane could tell that Hayden didn’t really know how to act around him, but to be fair, neither did Shane. The kids proved to be their saving grace, basically clamoring one over the other to tell him how much they loved the presents from “Uncle Shane and Uncle Ilya”, with Jade and Ruby promising to hold the best concert ever for them the next time they came over together. He was also interrogated about why he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring, and he assured them that it was just too important to accidentally lose, so he was keeping it safe at home.

Putting them to bed after everyone had finished eating turned into a lengthy process. All of them wanted bedtime stories from their second-favourite uncle (Ilya did the voices better, so he got to take the first place), and, to satisfy their diverging tastes in literature, he ended up having to read four different stories. His throat felt as dry as a desert when he finally got back to the dining table.

“Something to drink?” Jackie offered.

“Just water, thanks.”

“Come on, man. What will it take for you to cut loose? It’s not like you’re pregnant or anything.” Hayden was already halfway through his third glass of wine for the evening. Shane felt his eye twitch.

“You know I don’t drink during the season.”

“Yeah, yeah, but one glass won’t affect your performance.”

Shane was very grateful that Jackie chose that moment to cut in, before he could say something he’d regret. Like how if Hayden paid more attention to how much he drank, maybe he’d have an easier time keeping up with Shane on the ice.

“Babe, it’s okay if Shane doesn’t want to drink. Let him be.”

Hayden huffed out a breath. “Fine, you’re right.” Shane couldn’t help but notice that there was no apology to him added after that.

He busied himself with his glass of water, not knowing how to break the awkward silence that had settled.

It was Hayden who cracked first. “So J.J. knows.”

Not a topic Shane really wanted to discuss, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been expecting it.

“Oh, yeah. He wanted to invite me to his gay friend’s party, so I told him I actually have a boyfriend who can’t be out because of visa issues. He wanted to know more, and I guess he worked it out from my stories.”

“What did you actually tell him, though? We had a really weird conversation about Rozanov after practice.” He sounded like the thought of Shane already knowing all the details of that conversation hadn’t even crossed his mind. And the tone with which he said Ilya’s name made irritation spark in his chest.

“Would you please stop calling him that, like it’s some sort of disease? You know what J.J.’s reaction was when he realized I was dating Ilya? He was happy for me. He didn’t make me defend our relationship. I feel like I always have to do that around you.”

“Don’t be like that, Shane. I only want the best for you.” He moved as if to reach for Shane’s forearm across the table, but Shane pulled his hands away, into his lap.

“Ilya is it for me,” he stated simply.

“I get that you think that, but does he? He’s an asshole, and he used to hate you just as much as you hated him.”

Shane shook his head. “We never hated each other.” Even at the height of their rivalry, with every hockey journalist in North America trying to get the best soundbites and doing all they could to egg them on, the word “hate” had never been said by either of them.

“Sure, whatever. Then what about his visa? How can you be sure that he’s not planning to leave you for someone easier to be with? That he’s not already cheating on you? Everyone knows how much he slept around in Boston, and you spend a lot of time apart.”

Jackie slammed her hand down on her table. “For fuck’s sake, Hayden!”

Both men froze. She rarely raised her voice, and she never swore if their kids could even accidentally be within hearing distance.

“Ilya is a sweetheart. He loves Shane, and he’s great with our kids. I don’t know why you keep acting like he’s the worst person in the world, who somehow has everyone except you tricked.”

Hayden made some protesting noises, but Shane couldn’t focus on them. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears as his vision started to tunnel and blur slightly.

“Thank you for the meal, Jackie. I think I’m gonna go home now.” He stood from the table stiffly.

She followed him to the door with an apologetic look on her face. Hayden remained in his seat.

“I’m really sorry for him, Shane. I promise I’ll try to make him apologize – to you and Ilya both.”

Shane shrugged into his jacket. “Thank you, but you don’t need to do that. We’ll be fine.”

Jackie had a kind smile on her face. Shane would call it almost pitying if he had been inclined to be less charitable towards her. “I know you will be. But you still deserve the apology, Shane.”

Fuck. He really needed to get out before he started crying in front of her.

“Don’t let him stop you from coming over anytime. The kids really love their uncles,” she said with a squeeze of his hands.

“Yeah, we love them, too.”

“Are you good to drive? Please text me when you get home safe.” Genuine concern laced her voice.

“Okay, I’ll do that.”

When he got home, the first thing he did was text Jackie. Then he finally let his tears fall as he waited for Ilya to pick up his phone.

Chapter End Notes

Let’s just pretend that all the Guardians caught a life-threatening flu at the same time and the Voyageurs’ game against Toronto on the 27th was cancelled or something. The outline for this part of the fic was already written before I re-read the Christmas chapters of TLG, and I made the executive decision that vibes are more important than realistic hockey schedules.

Chapter 3: Tampa

Chapter Notes

After doing the right thing and letting his Coach, team, and PR know that he would be missing their game in Detroit due to a family emergency, but would be back in time to play against Chicago, Shane turned off his notifications and spent most of the flight staring at Ilya's Instagram. He periodically alternated between their DMs and the photos he'd posted – both were equally gut-wrenching.

His messages, for obvious reasons. But Shane had just discovered the previous night that Ilya’s entire feed was a secret love letter to him. He didn’t spend much time on social media and didn’t even manage his own presence there. He’d thought that was the case with Ilya as well, and had never bothered to check before. The last photo had been posted just after he’d left for Montreal: a half-empty plate, with Bood’s firepit in the background.

Shane loved Ilya so fucking much, and he’d almost fucking lost him.

He gripped the ringbox nestled safely in his pocket.

The airport jewelry store employee hadn’t had an ounce of recognition in her eyes when he’d gone up to her and asked for the gold chain and the two identical-looking but differently-sized men’s rings. He was so stressed that he didn’t think he’d have cared that much if she had recognized him.

He knew, theoretically, that Ilya’s fingers were slightly thicker than his own. He just hadn’t realized that it actually made that much of a difference in ring sizing. He was sure that, without Wyatt’s help, he would’ve just bought two of the same, and then Ilya’s ring would’ve been too small for him. And to think that, only weeks previously, he’d been so terrified of anyone else finding out about them. He would probably be eternally indebted to J.J..

Wyatt had texted him while he’d been in the air to meet him at the back entrance of the hotel. Shane felt like they were the worst possible spies in one of Rose’s many kidnapping movies when he spotted him leaning with fake casualness against the wall.

“Hey, Shane! All the stuff J.J. ordered just got here earlier. I already took it up to the room.”

“Hi, Wyatt. Thanks.”

“No problem, here.” He handed Shane the keycard to room 1217. “Can I ask, why that one in particular?”

“It was the one Ilya stayed in at the 2017 All-Stars,” Shane admitted, somewhat bashfully.

“Oh shit, yeah, I remember you guys telling us about it at Bood’s. Glad it was available then, that’s romantic as fuck.”

Shane felt himself blush. “Thanks. So, umm, how much time do you think I’ll have to get everything ready?”

“As much as you need, I’d say. Almost nobody is awake yet. I’ll make sure to get some breakfast into Roz and bring him to you, just text me when to come. That works for you?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect actually.” He would just have to try not to overthink it for too many hours.

“By the way,” Wyatt took off his backpack and rooted around it for a moment, revealing a carton box with a camera on it. “It’s the same model as Cassie’s. I thought I could take some photos for you two? But no worries if you want to be alone, I’ll just leave it with you and forward her messages on how to use it.”

“Wow.” How had Shane ended up with so much support from a guy who wasn’t even on his team? It really showed how loved Ilya was by the Centaurs. “Could you? Take the photos, I mean. That’d be great.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll just come up with you really quick and test it out if you don’t mind. Oh, and also, can I keep J.J. updated? He said you probably won’t remember to call him.” Yeah, that was probably true. He planned on being busy with Ilya for the rest of the day. If he said yes. He was going to say yes. Right? Hopefully.

“Sure, no problem. Just please delete any messages that mention us after.”

Wyatt gave him a thumbs-up, his other hand already taking out his phone.

The room looked exactly as it had four years before, even down to the colour of the bedsheets. Wyatt snapped a quick photo of Shane, in which he definitely looked equal parts nervous and excited, then left him to get everything ready.

It was just past noon when Shane heard two pairs of footsteps accompanied by familiar voices coming down the corridor towards him. His palms began to sweat, and he quickly wiped them on his suit pants.

“Why the fuck did you bring me here, Hazy?”

“You’ll find out soon. Now say ‘cheese’!”

Ilya snorted. “Are you taking up photography?”

“Something like that. Go on, open the door.”

And then Ilya was there in front of him, in the flesh, looking ridiculously attractive in his stupid Hawaiian shirt and shorts. Wyatt slipped in and closed the door behind himself, but Shane’s entire world had already narrowed down to his boyfriend.

“Shane…” There was shock and wonder in his voice as he tore his eyes away and looked around the room. Shane might have gone a little overboard with it – there were electric candles on every available surface: on the desk, dresser, TV table, nightstands, floor, even on the bed. The boxes they had come in were hidden safely out of sight in the bathroom.

His heart picked up its pace, and he sank to one knee, ring pinched between two fingers.

“I thought a lot about what I wanted to tell you on the way here. I love you so much, Ilya. You are the most important part of my life, and I wouldn’t have survived if I lost you yesterday. I don’t want to wait until we retire to call you my husband.” Feeling his eyes begin to burn with tears, he took a deep breath. “Ilya Irinovich Rozanov, will you marry me?”

“That’s not my middle name,” is what Ilya ended up saying after a few terrifying seconds of silence.

Shane let out a nervous chuckle. “I know, but from what you’ve told me about your parents, I think you’re more your mother’s son than your father’s. You’re so beautiful, and kind, and funny, and sorry, I’m babbling–”

“Yes,” Ilya interrupted. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

There were tears streaming down Ilya’s cheeks, but he was grinning widely. He held out his right hand, and Shane slipped the ring on, then scrambled to his feet and into Ilya’s arms. Ilya buried his face in the crook of Shane’s neck and, after a moment, laughed.

“You stole my proposal idea.”

Shane felt his cheeks and ears heat up. “It was a good idea,” he mumbled.

Ilya kissed him, long and deep. “I’m not complaining. Did you buy a ring for yourself?”

“Yeah, one sec.” He took his own ring out of his pocket and handed it to Ilya. Shane honestly hadn’t expected him to also sink to one knee.

“Ever since the first game we played against each other, I knew that I would never be rid of you. That we would climb together to the top, and our names would always be spoken of side-by-side. It took me a bit to realize that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I’d do anything for that to happen. Ya budu lyubit' tebya vechno. Shane Hollander, will you marry me?”

“I already asked you to marry me, you asshole,” Shane said between tears.

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

Ilya slipped the ring onto Shane’s finger and got up to kiss him again. They did that for quite a while, time melting away from them. When they broke apart, both of them looked down at their matching rings, wearing matching, giddy smiles. Something caught Ilya’s eye, and he turned his head to the side.

“Why the fuck are you crying, Hazy? I’m the one getting engaged, not you.”

Oh, right. Wyatt was still there. Shane had forgotten all about him as soon as Ilya had walked through the door. He felt a bit embarrassed for having been so emotional in front of him.

Wyatt laughed wetly. “Fuck you, man. Your love is just too beautiful.”

Ilya – his fiancé – beamed lovingly at Shane.

“I know.”

“Anyways.” Wyatt wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I put the photos face down where I found some space on the dresser. Cassie told me that you’re supposed to let them develop in the dark a bit. I’m leaving the camera for you. The cartridge is empty, but I also bought a second pack, so you can take your own too, if you want.”

“Thanks, Hazy.”

“Yeah, thank you, Wyatt. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

He smiled at the two of them. “What else are friends for?” And with that, he left them alone.

Shane turned towards his fiancé, who was looking at him like he wanted to devour him, then towards the bed. There really were a lot of candles.

“We should probably get those off.”

In response, Ilya simply tore the whole blanket away, making them fly everywhere.

“Or I guess that works too.”

They met in the middle, so desperate to feel each other’s skin that a few buttons ended up as collateral damage. Ilya gently nudged him until the back of his legs hit the bed. Shane sat down, pulling Ilya with him, and they both laughed when that overbalanced them and made them tumble sideways.

“I don’t think we broke this bed last time. Do you want to try again?”

Shane laughed again. “Let’s not end up paying damages for a room neither of us is supposed to be in.”

Ilya looked at him with sparkling, playful eyes. “Hmm. We’ll see.”

But the kisses he trailed down from Shane’s jaw to his chest were soft and reverent. He paused to give attention to both his nipples, twirling his tongue around them, with just a hint of teeth, then continued on lower. Ilya mouthed at the growing bulge in his pants, and Shane could do nothing but tug at his curls harshly, desperate for more. They fumbled to get the rest of their clothes off.

Once they were both naked, Shane placed his hand on Ilya’s chest, right over his heart. Ilya covered it with his own, and their rings clinked together. Shane felt himself begin to tear up again, and Ilya didn’t look far behind.

“I’m here, zhizn moya. Still alive.”

Shane kissed him again with ferocity, clutching at every part of him that he could reach. The kiss was returned with the same fervour, their breathing becoming heavy. Their cocks slid against each other, and Shane rocked up into Ilya.

“Fuck,” Shane panted. “I forgot to bring lube.” He’d run out during their last FaceTime before Washington and had been meaning to buy more, but it completely slipped his mind with everything that had happened.

Ilya leaned down to capture his lips in another kiss.

“We can get some later. This is perfect now.” He grinded down harder, making Shane let out a loud moan.

“Yeah, it’s perfect. You’re perfect. Fuck, Ilya, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. Ya lyublyu tebya.”

They found the perfect rhythm, rocking into each other to the beat of their pounding hearts. Shane got a hand between them, and, smearing their combined precum over their lengths, took them both into his fist. They weren’t even kissing anymore, just panting with their mouths hovering close together, breathing each other’s air. Ilya came first, babbling Russian love declarations, and the force of his orgasm brought Shane over the edge, too. They stayed like that for a moment, coming down from their shared orgasms, then Ilya laughed, as if in disbelief.

“How are you here?”

Shane rolled them over and propped his chin on Ilya’s sternum, next to his cross.

“I told J.J. that I want to propose to you when we get home. He arranged everything last night with my mom and Wyatt.”

Ilya made a disgusted face. “Ugh. Can’t believe I now have to be thankful to a Voyageur.” But his fond voice gave away his true feelings.

Shane pinched his side playfully. “Hey! I’m a Voyageur too!”

“Yes, well, we can’t all be perfect,” Ilya said with an exaggerated air of superiority that made them both devolve into giggles.

After a quick shower during which they couldn’t stop touching each other for even one second, Ilya pushed Shane to sit back down on the bed and bent to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Don’t move. Be back in two minutes.” 

Then he shimmied back into his shorts and slipped out the door without another word. His Hawaiian shirt was still lying forgotten and bunched up on the floor. Shane was left blinking confused in his absence.

Instead of doing as he’d been told and not moving, he went over to the dresser to look at the photos Wyatt had taken. He stepped carefully to avoid the electric candles still scattered all over the place.

Ilya was back in less than the promised two minutes, breathing hard as if he’d sprinted the whole way at full speed. Shane hoped that nobody had spotted him and thought that the Centaurs’ Captain had gone insane. He threw the two swimming trunks he was holding over the back of the chair and sauntered to Shane. Ilya snaked his arms around his torso and nipped at his neck playfully.

“I thought I told you not to move,” he growled.

“Just looking at these.” He raised one of the photos slightly so Ilya could have a better view of them from where he’d hooked his chin over Shane’s shoulder.

“Oh.”

None of them were artistic masterpieces, but they were perhaps Shane’s favourite photos in the entire world. They captured the timeline of the entire proposal: Shane’s nerves and Ilya’s confusion before he’d walked through the door, Ilya’s frozen disbelief right after, Shane on one knee, putting the ring on Ilya’s finger, then Ilya doing the same, their hug, their kiss, and finally, the tearful joy on their faces as they looked down at their matching rings.

Ilya pressed a lingering kiss to his shoulder, seemingly lost for words. Shane turned around in his arms to kiss him properly. He was still naked himself, and soon grew hard again. Ilya broke away and slipped a hand in his pocket, pulling out a bottle of lube. He dangled it with two fingers in front of Shane’s face.

“This is your lucky day, Hollander. I always have this with me just in case you decide to ditch your horrible team and run away with me.”

Shane laughed, but couldn’t help becoming even more aroused at his preparedness. 

“What’s with those, then?” He nodded towards the swimming trunks on the chair.

“I’m taking you to the beach after. Now where were we?” Ilya asked, capturing his lips again in a heated kiss.

They did end up breaking the bed. Just a little bit. Not enough that they wouldn’t be able to sleep in it together that night, or try breaking it even more the next morning. Ilya promised to wire Wyatt the money for all the damages.

Shane didn’t know why he’d let himself be talked into this, but Ilya had been so excited about his plan that he’d agreed. He was starting to regret it as he hid behind a closed beach umbrella, barely out of sight, while Ilya gathered his team to tell them the news.

“Okay, everyone, listen up!” He clapped his hands together to get their attention. “My ex-boyfriend is here, so I want all of you to be cool and not embarrass me in front of him.”

There was no way to tell who sounded less cool and more shocked – the guys who hadn’t even known that Ilya was also into men, the guys who knew about Shane specifically, or Wyatt, who Shane could somewhat see standing at the edge of the group, trying not to laugh.

Shane chose that moment to step out.

There was a chorus of “Hollander?”, “What are you doing here?”, and dawning understanding from Bood, Troy, and Harris as they noticed their matching rings and matching hickeys.

“Never fucking introduce me as your ex-boyfriend again, Ilya,” he said, heading straight towards him.

“Okay, fiancé then.” He beamed at Shane and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

There was another chorus of confused congratulations that Ilya graciously accepted before quieting them down.

“Yes, yes, I am the luckiest man in the world to be getting married to the second best and hottest hockey player. Don’t tell anyone else yet. One more hour on the beach, then team dinner. Attendance mandatory. You can all ask one question each. Think about it until then so you don’t waste it.”

Ilya shooed them away, then, taking his hand, dragged him towards the water. As soon as the waves began lapping just above their knees, Ilya dove in headfirst, resurfacing a few feet further out.

“Swim with me, Hollander!” he called to Shane.

He stood a moment to admire Ilya’s slicked-back hair and the droplets glistening on his well-toned chest, littered with bruises left by Shane’s mouth. He couldn’t see the red scratch marks on his back, but still knew that they were there. They’d both let themselves be a bit carried away during the second round, but Shane couldn’t bring himself to regret it. A flash of possessiveness surged through him. Ilya was his, just as he was Ilya’s, and everyone should know it.

The moment passed, and he dove in after Ilya, aiming straight for his legs. Ilya let out a yelp as he was dragged under, then came up spluttering and glaring.

“I’ll get you for this!” he shouted, trying to tackle Shane.

They spend most of the hour left until sunset playing in the waves like two boys on vacation instead of professional athletes. As the sun dipped towards the horizon, Shane convinced Ilya that they should get out to dry and get ready for dinner.

Shirts unbuttoned and towels slung over their shoulders, Ilya took his hand and set off further up the beach instead of back to the hotel.

“Where are we going?” Shane asked.

“You’ll see,” Ilya responded with a mysterious smile.

Stopping at a seemingly arbitrary empty location, Ilya sat down in the sand and dragged Shane down with him. He looked around, trying to work out what was so special about it. The sunset was very nice to look at, but what else…? And then the penny dropped.

“Is this where…?”

“Yes. Where I found you after the All-Stars Game.”

They were sitting much closer now than they had been back then. Their hands were still clasped together, fingers tangled, instead of just the tips of their thumbs barely brushing against each other. He let his head fall down to Ilya’s shoulder, and Ilya rested his own cheek on top of it. They sat silently looking at the sunset, and if Shane were to guess, they were both thinking about the same thing – how far they’ve come since then, from terrified to admit this huge thing between them, to boyfriends, and now fiancés. They were going to get married.

“I was thinking this summer,” Shane broke the silence.

“Summer for what?”

Shane lifted his head, dislodging Ilya and meeting his gaze. “For everything. Coming out. Going public. Getting married.”

Ilya gave him a bright, excited smile. “Yes?”

“Yeah. I mean, obviously your team already knows and they seem to be okay with it. I don’t think mine is gonna be that supportive, but if they can’t get over themselves and keep playing like normal, I’m an Unrestricted Free Agent in July, so…” Shane shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You would move teams, Hollander?” He sounded as if Shane had just told him that he was completely quitting hockey.

“I don’t know,” he repeated. “I know it’s going to be a shitshow, but I’m tired of hiding. I think I can handle anything that comes with being out as long as we’re together.”

Ilya kissed him deeply. “Of course we’ll be together. I’m yours.”

Shane pulled him in for another deep kiss. “And I’m yours.”

The team dinner turned out to be Bood booking them all the tables at a family-run Mexican restaurant. The Centaurs were the same laid-back guys he’d met at the Boxing Day party, if a little more excited by finding out about the best-kept secret in the NHL. None of their questions were too invasive, but some of them had gotten stuck at “What the fuck?” and “How?”, for which they got thoroughly made fun of by Ilya.

Both Shane and Ilya were tipsy and giggly by the time they stumbled back to their hotel room and into their only slightly broken bed.

The next day was heavy with the knowledge that they only had a few more hours together before Ilya had to play against Tampa and Shane had to fly to Chicago. Their sex after waking up was slow and emotional, then Ilya left for the Cens’ morning skate and Shane tried to occupy his mind with some reading. It didn’t really work, and he was grateful when Ilya was back to take his pre-game nap holding Shane tight in his arms.

And then Ilya had to leave for real.

“Moya lyubov,” he whispered, tracing his thumbs over Shane’s freckles.

“I’ll miss you,” Shane admitted.

“I’ll miss you, too. But we’ll see each other on Sunday, yes? I love you.”

“Yeah. I love you, too.” He kissed Ilya, breaking apart with great reluctance.

“I promise to score a hat trick for you.”

Shane snorted. “In your dreams, Rozanov.”

Ilya put his hand to his chest, where his ring now hung next to his cross. “I’m getting married to the hottest NHL player ever. I can do anything.”

“Okay, go score your hat trick,” Shane said, laughing.

Ilya pressed one last lingering kiss to his lips, then another to his knuckles. He stepped out the door with a wink thrown over his shoulder.

Once he was alone, Shane opened his phone for the first time since his brief call with Hayden the day prior. His heart picked up its pace as he saw that his notifications were flooded from what looked like every person on Earth trying to contact him at the same time. He opened the groupchat he had with Ilya, his mom, and Farah first – if anything concerning him or Ilya had happened, the two women were sure to already be ahead of it.

Well. Shit.

There was a photo. He was being advised not to comment and let the Voyageurs’ PR handle it.

Possibly the stupidest part of the whole thing was that it hadn’t even been a hockey fan who’d recognized Shane. They called him “that Calvin Klein model” in the post, for fuck’s sake. At least that meant that they hadn’t also caught Ilya in the photo – Shane was wearing the shirt he’d gone down to the beach in, so Ilya must have been just out of frame. But someone who was a fan had seen it, and overnight it had spread all over hockey internet. Shane was sure that the truth would be more shocking to people than all the bullshit speculations about collusion they were busy coming up with.

But it was still pretty fucking concerning. And Ilya wasn’t there to calm him down from the panic attack he felt himself teetering on the verge of. He’d only been gone for half an hour, and Shane already missed him so much.

Doing the next best thing he could, Shane called J.J..

Chapter End Notes

Yay! Hollanov engagement!

And for everyone asking for the Jackie/Hayden divorce, I have good news! The next fic in this series currently has the working title "How Jackie Pike Got Her Groove Back" and will focus on that. But I do want to read The Sport Marriage: Women Who Make It Work by Steven M. Ortiz to get a better understanding of the WAG life before I begin any serious writing for it, so stay tuned <3