Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, David Hollander, Yuna Hollander, Hayden Pike, Hayden Pike's Children, Galina Molchalina, Jean-Jacques Boiziau | J. J. Dagenais, a few minor OCs that are just necessary to have, Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Kip Grady

Additional Tags:

Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, homophobic!Yuna & David, Mental Health Issues, Depression, Family Dynamics, Family Issues, Shane learns to stand up to his parents, Shane finds a community of support, Good Friend Hayden Pike, AU after s1/book 2, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Bad Parent Yuna Hollander

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-08-05 Completed: 2026-10-07 Words: 69,076 Chapters: 10/10

The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows

Summary

There was no “No Son of Mine” lecture, no slurs were ever thrown around, and neither Shane nor Ilya were ever banished from Yuna and David’s house or life. Instead, a quiet questioning began, where all of Shane’s choices were investigated for motive and reason.

When did this start? When did it become serious? Are you sure about this?

When David first walked in on Shane and Ilya kissing, and Shane had to make what felt like a walk of shame to his parents house with Ilya in tow, he assumed that all he had to do was rip the bandaid off. There was no more hiding, there was no pretending this didn’t happen. The truth was out there whether he liked it or not, and he was vocal with Ilya about not liking it at all. But, he told himself, he just had to man up. He could do this. Rip the bandaid off, tell the truth, and tomorrow will be better.

He was really incredibly wrong about that.

Or: When Shane’s parents find out he’s gay and dating Ilya, they don’t accept it – instead, they push back. What follows is two of the most difficult years of Shane’s life. AU after Book 2/Season 1.

Notes

This is a completed fic that sits around 60k (edit on 9/9/2026: closer to 70k), and it will be updated weekly. There are mentions of sex and specific sexual acts, but no explicit sex scenes.

This story is unbetaed, but I promise I read through it multiple times to ensure plot continuity, mostly correct grammar (I love an unnecessary comma), and steady characterizations.

Major shout out to my friend Renee who put up with my endless text messages updating her on a story she has never read and offering her help when I needed it. It was really nice to have her to bounce ideas off of and as an accountability buddy to ensure I finished writing the story.

I will not be posting trigger warnings, but just know this story does deal with homophobic parents and teammates. If you’d like more specific CWs, feel free to drop a comment or a message (here or on Tumblr – same username) asking.

Lastly, the title of this story and the lyrics posted at the beginning of each chapter are from the band Brand New. I have linked the lyrics to the corresponding song in case you are interested in listening to it.

Chapter 1

I need the smell of summer. I need its noises in my ears. 

–I Will Play My Game Beneath the Spin Light 

Shane has actually never heard the stories. Not until he was in his mid-twenties and went searching for them online. Not until it happened to him, and he was desperate to know if he was the only one. 

Why would he have come across them? When would he have? His algorithm has never shown him anything LGBTQ+ related except for about two weeks after he bought his first dildo and sex toys were advertised nonstop until Shane trained his algorithm back into hockey, cute animal videos, video games, and the occasional movie breakdown and prank video.

Suddenly he finds himself trolling the internet for as much information as possible regarding some variation of the phrase “how can moderately liberal parents who don’t care if other people are gay care if their own child is gay?”

Turns out there are a whole host of stories from other queer people sharing essentially the same experience Shane is having right now: our parents don’t care if other people are gay, but they sure as shit care when it’s their own child who’s gay. 

There’s something arbitrarily ridiculous about this to Shane. How could you possibly be okay if someone else does something but not okay if it’s your own child? Then he thinks about how he’d feel if his parents were into something wildly out of character and suddenly he feels like maybe he understands it? He doesn’t care that some of his friends smoke weed, but he thinks he’d be weirded out if his parents did. Ilya introduced him to someone who is poly, and while Shane is certainly confused as fuck about it, he doesn’t think he cares. The idea of his parents bringing a third into their relationship really sets him off though, and he can’t stomach the idea. Is that what it’s like for them? An inability to bridge the gap between being okay with something theoretically but not being able to handle it in reality?

When things hit too close to home, is that when our real morals make themselves known?

“Ilya, come look,” Shane calls out from the couch where he’s doom scrolling stories from Reddit on his iPad. Ilya, who’s watering the plants he forced Shane to get for the cottage, leans over the back of the couch to see what Shane’s pointing at. “Apparently this is like, super common? There are all these stories.”

Ilya nods, like he does every time Shane brings something like this to his attention, squeezing Shane’s shoulder and dropping a kiss to the top of his head.

“Sad that this happens a lot,” Ilya replies. 

They’ve talked about it before, endlessly actually. Shane thinks he has somehow forced this topic into at least 25% of his and Ily’s conversations over the last year. Ilya has never been anything other than supportive, though, so Shane doesn’t think he’s belaboring the topic too much.

“Yeah, it really is. This person said that all it took was time, though, and her parents came around. She said it just took some conversations and occasional meet ups, and, I mean, it was obviously harder than I’m making it out to be. They were even religious, which I don’t have to deal with,” Shane says. “So maybe just a little patience?”

“We can give it time,” Ilya replies, as he always does. 

Shane goes back to reading and Ilya goes back to watering plants and no one mentions that it has been one year since David walked in on Shane and Ilya kissing, and Shane’s life came crumbling apart piece by piece.

There was no “No Son of Mine” lecture, no slurs were ever thrown around, and neither Shane nor Ilya were ever banished from Yuna and David’s house or life. Instead, a quiet questioning began, where all of Shane’s choices were investigated for motive and reason.

When did this start? When did it become serious? Are you sure about this? Who initiated it? 

And that one was so embarrassing, because then he has to cop to his mother that for years they were fuck buddies, and that who started it and how it started doesn’t matter. In no way, shape, or form does Shane want to admit to sizing up Ilya in the showers and getting hard, and he doesn’t want to throw Ilya under the bus by telling his parents he started jerking off to get Shane’s reaction. It sounds so sleazy, and while Shane knows he and Ilya certainly do not have a meet-cute, it’s just too much to share the reality that for both of them this relationship started out as a pick-up in the locker room shower. Nothing more, nothing less, and not meant to be repeated. Certainly not meant to be long-term, and definitely not something he wants to talk with his parents about. Especially not after all this.

Currently Shane’s biggest issues boil down to two things; the first being that his mom is his manager and relies on the income she earns from Shane to live, and the second being that the tension between them means that Ilya is uncomfortable being around Shane’s parents but Shane doesn’t want to exclude Ilya from anything and he hates that he keeps putting Ilya in these awkward situations but also he isn’t ready to lay down an ultimatum with his parents. 

Ilya has never, not once, asked to beg off of a family event. But Shane can’t pretend that it isn’t awkward when Ilya’s there, and he can’t pretend that his parents act normally in front of Ilya. He doesn’t want Ilya to think it’s okay how his parents overlook him and look down on him, or that they try to avoid being alone with him one on one. He wants Ilya to know that he sees what is happening and he isn’t okay with it. 

But when Shane had tried to separate two of the biggest factions of his life, his parents and his partner, it led to dramatically uncomfortable consequences for his mental health. It just isn’t an option to leave Ilya at home for Christmas while he visits his parents, and it’s not an option to not see his parents at Christmas either. Ilya is not a puppy to be left at home when Shane wants to grab lunch with his parents during the off-season, and his parents shouldn’t not be invited to their cottage for a game night just because Ilya also lives there. He refuses to ignore Ilya’s presence in his life when he does talk to his parents, and he won’t let a conversation go by without mentioning Ilya as a steady presence in his everyday life. He hates to make people uncomfortable, but he has recently been asking himself why he has to always be the one who’s uncomfortable in return.

It’s all very stressful for Shane, having to navigate three other people’s feelings while ignoring his own and just hoping that everyone will get along and that his family will feel normal again.

“You’re going to give yourself a tension headache,” Ilya remarks from the back deck where he’s lounging for what will be their last week at the cottage. Shane’s pacing and quietly talking to himself – mostly in his head – practicing what he’ll say to his parents if any number of situations come up when they see each other. He’s preparing because they’re coming for dinner tonight and Shane needs it to go well, and in order for it to go well he needs to spend a few hours freaking out and thinking of every possible scenario and how he might best respond to it.

“No, no, I’m sorry,” Shane says, though he doesn’t stop pacing. “I’m feeling fine. Honestly.”

“Liar,” Ilya remarks, with absolutely no heat behind it. “Come sit down.” 

He spreads his legs open on the lounge chair, an invitation for Shane to plop down and be held, and Shane so desperately wants to join him. But he really can’t stop himself from moving so he waves Ilya off and goes back to thinking about how he can bring up to his mother that Ilya’s move to Ottawa is so close to being in motion. Shane can almost taste it – just a few more months and he thinks that this could be official. Maybe by February, if they’re lucky. He thinks he can maybe get her on board to house hunt with him and Ilya, but he has to approach it just right or she will rebuff him, he thinks. 

“Do you think I should invite her to come house hunting with us?” Shane asks.

Ilya snorts but then covers it up poorly. “I don’t think she cares where I live, Shane.”

“But she will care where I live, and it’s going to be our house. So I figure I can lay it out like that?” 

“Shane, please come sit down.” 

He finally obliges, leaning back against Ilya and allowing himself to be ensconced in a familiar embrace. 

“I just…I just want this to work out.”

Ilya nods, which Shane can only tell because he feels Ilya doing it behind him. 

“What can I do?” Ilya asks. 

Shane relaxes against him, finally surrendering to the arms holding him together.

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do,” Shane admits. “You’ve done everything. Everything, Ilya. And they still treat you like an intrusion in their life. In my life.”

“They’ll come around,” Ilya repeats for what has to be the thousandth time. A mantra he’s been repeating to make Shane feel better. Except recently it has not been having the intended effect.

Shane is beginning to wonder if Ilya actually believes this or is just saying it for Shane’s sake. It’s an uncomfortable thought so he banishes it from his head.

Shane doesn’t know if his parents will come around, or when, or even what it will look like if they do. He’s feeling close to the end of his rope, ready to beg and plead with his parents to please please be normal. Go back to being normal.

“I just want everything to be normal again,” he whispers.

Ilya kisses him behind his right ear, squeezes his arms tighter, and puts all his love into their embrace. 

After a few moments, Ilya tells Shane that he can invite Yuna to go house hunting. “Really. If it’s what you want. It could be a good opportunity to get to know each other.”

Shane knows an out when he sees one. It’s been a year since Shane was outed to his parents and his relationship with Ilya was put on full blast for them to see. They have all had plenty of opportunities to get to know each other, grow together, and find some semblance of harmony. But it hasn’t happened yet, and Shane still believes that there is something he is missing here that only he can fix. Just one or two levers he can pull, gears he can grind, that will make it so his parents fully accept and welcome Ilya into the fold. 

“I’ll bring it up at dinner tonight,” he replies. For now he is enjoying leaning against his boyfriend – his partner – and letting Ilya hold him together.

When David first walked in on Shane and Ilya kissing, and Shane had to make what felt like a walk of shame to his parents house with Ilya in tow, he assumed that all he had to do was rip the bandaid off. There was no more hiding, there was no pretending this didn’t happen. The truth was out there whether he liked it or not, and he was vocal with Ilya about not liking it at all. But, he told himself, he just had to man up. He could do this. Rip the bandaid off, tell the truth, and tomorrow will be better.

He was really incredibly wrong about that.

Sometimes when Shane closes his eyes he can see the look of quiet disappointment on his father’s face, and utter confusion and borderline revulsion painting his mother’s as he stood in their entryway with Ilya beside him. It’s like nothing he had ever seen before. 

He remembers being an average student, earning mostly B’s and C’s because why does a spelling test or a chemistry quiz matter when he was going to be playing hockey? Even if for some reason a professional playing career didn’t work out (which it would – it had to), he had every intention of following through with coaching or training or even podcasting. He could get an Associate’s Degree, find an unpaid internship, and work his way up in any number of hockey related positions. Worst case scenario he works in the AHL – the minor leagues. This was something he was ardently open about in his everyday life, so much so that when he told this to his high school guidance counselor, she called his parents and brought them in for a one-on-one meeting.

They backed him fully and his mom laughed in the guidance counselor’s face when she asked “What if this doesn’t work out?”

“He’s going to the IIHF World Junior Championship this year,” his mom said. “He’ll be drafted. Come on, Shane.” She stood up, grabbed her bag, and off they went. 

When he lost his first tooth to a hockey fight in Grade 11, they paid for an oral surgeon. When it became clear Shane was being scouted for the MLH, his mother hired a media trainer to meet three times with Shane so he felt prepared to talk to scouts, coaches, the media – anyone and everyone. His mom went back to college for a Master’s degree in business when Shane was in middle school, and while she has never explicitly stated that it was for Shane, the whole family knew she was never going to work anywhere else. She earned that degree and immediately took the reins of his career and Shane never looked back once. 

He’s made so many stupid mistakes in his life, and could point to each and every one of them and proudly state that his parents had his back completely and utterly. Even when he was in the wrong. 

But somehow being gay and dating Ilya is where the line is drawn, and Shane can’t figure out why, because being gay and dating Ilya feels simultaneously like the most innocuous thing he has ever done and also the best thing he’s ever done. He wants to stand in front of his parents and shake Ilya profusely and yell look at him! Look at what a catch I got! Look at who is dating me and making me happy and loving me and look who I get to share my life with! Why can’t you see what I see?!

But it’s been one year, and Shane has to brace his knees every time he sees his parents now for fear of falling at their feet and begging their forgiveness for a transgression he doesn’t believe he committed.

Shane thinks that the best way to integrate his parents into his and Ilya’s life is to keep extending the olive branch and bringing everyone together, but under the guise of specific reasons. He quickly learns that they cannot come together unexpectedly or for no reason, and their meetings need to be relatively brief. 

A few times Shane tried showing up randomly at his parents house with Ilya, something they never in the past had any issue with Shane doing when he was alone. Frankly, they welcomed it. Their home was Shane’s home, after all. But if Ilya was in tow, suddenly they were very busy and couldn’t stick around long. If Shane offered his and Ilya’s help running errands with them, their assistance was turned down. There were no last minute pool hangouts or visits to raid his parents fridge. Not if Ilya was with him. But with ample notice and a specific agreed upon purpose, Shane thinks he sees some progress being made.

Tonight they are having dinner, celebrating the end of summer and the beginning of training and the pre-season. Shane and Ilya have been at the cabin for most of the summer, but this will only be the third time everyone gets together for more than a few minutes (since all the surprise attempts were an utter failure). 

Shane definitely isn’t freaking out.

“Shane, malysh, everything will be okay,” Ilya says as Shane checks that the table settings outside are perfect and the cloth napkins are folded in a way his mother will approve of.

Shane has never cared about table settings or cloth napkin folding, and if this were pre-Ilya he and his parents would probably be eating off paper plates and using paper towels. Suddenly, however, Shane has found himself trying to curate a life he isn’t sure he’s even living, hoping his parents will somehow equate solid blue organic cotton cloth napkins and Chilewich Basketweave Outdoor Placemats from Pottery Barn with Shane being a functional adult in a healthy and serious relationship with the man of his dreams. 

“Yeah, of course everything will be okay,” Shane responds. It’s both a hope, a promise, and a prayer. 

Ilya raises his eyebrows at him, arms crossed, and Shane has to bite his tongue to point out that he doesn’t need Ilya to supervise him, what he needs is for Ilya to plate the veggie and hummus tray. 

He continues making micro-tweaks to the table setting, and Ilya eventually walks inside to, Shane hopes, slice radishes in a way that will make his mother forget that they have anal sex on the regular. 

Eventually even Shane has to admit that everything is set up and prepared and there really is nothing more he can do but wait for his parents to arrive and hope that maybe the new high-end wine glasses he purchased – Gabriel-Glas Gold Edition set of six, which set Shane back a whopping $560USD – will be enough for his father to actually talk to Ilya about more than the weather or hockey or the exciting projects he’s working on at the Treasury Board of Canada. Those conversations really test Ilya’s love for Shane, because Shane has had to watch Ilya actively try to not have an aneurysm while attempting to seem interested in the updating of accounting standards for multiple government agencies or the cost-benefit analysis of building a bridge versus a bypass.

Thrilling stuff.

“They’re here,” Ilya says from the counter, where he did indeed slice the radishes in a way that doesn’t make Shane want to rip his hair out.

His parents have a code to both his front gate and his front door, so there’s no rush to go and let them in.

“I need you to know I love you,” Shane says frantically, because he’s suddenly realized how absurd this entire situation is and how much money he has dropped and how absolutely nightmarish he has been to Ilya in the days leading up to this. “And I appreciate you. And no matter what happens tonight, we are going to enjoy our last three days here. Okay?”

“Okay,” Ilya says, walking up to Shane and grabbing his chin. “I love you, too.”

“And I swear we will never have to use cloth napkins when it’s just the two of us even though I spent an absurd amount of money on this set up.”

Shane leans in for a kiss that Ilya smiles into, allowing himself a moment of reprieve from the stress he’s been holding onto for days. He feels it seep out bit by bit when Ilya’s tongue seeks entrance to Shane’s mouth and their tongues slide together briefly while Shane wraps his arms around Ilya’s waist. He wants to fall into it more, until he hears a cough from behind him.

“Hi mom,” he says in defeat, leaning his forehead against Ilya’s for a microsecond before turning around and putting his mask back on. “Thanks so much for coming. Here, let me grab that from you.”

He takes the large salad bowl from her hands and deposits it into the fridge, pulling out the hummus and edamame dip while he’s there.

Yuna nods at Ilya, awkwardly placing a hand on his shoulder when she walks past, and kisses each of Shane’s cheeks.

“What can I help with?” she asks, pulling out the cut veggies like she already knows what she’s doing.

David gives Ilya a firm handshake before coming up to hug Shane, and together the three of them bring the appetizers to the back deck while Ilya trails behind with a bottle of wine Yuna and David like.

No one comments on the radishes or the homemade hummus, but his father also doesn’t once bring up the riveting intricacies of an American 401k, which he had been reading about in an attempt to connect with Ilya (who, Shane knows for a fact, pays very little attention to his multiple retirement plans apart from his financial advisor giving a thumbs up or thumbs down during their quarterly meetings). Instead, he comments on the mess on the dock.

“What you got down there?” He nods towards the dock.

“Oh, Ilya and I were out on the lake earlier. Paddleboarding, kayaking. We still have to clean up.”

“Paddleboarding! That’s nice. I’ve always wanted to give that a try.”

“We’d love to take you out,” Ilya offers, biting off a chunk of a baby carrot. “We’re only here for a few more days, but I’m sure we can find some time.”

“Maybe,” David says, nodding as if in deep thought. 

“David, honey, do you think that would be good for your back? He strained his back the other day,” Yuna adds. 

“What happened?” Shane asks.

“Oh, nothing. Your mom’s being overly cautious. I pulled a muscle a week ago, got a massage, and I’m feeling a lot better now. But maybe she’s right. Best to not cause any undo strain.”

Shane nods, let’s everyone pretend he agrees, and quietly wonders if looking at his watch will make it too obvious that he’s hoping time is going faster than it feels like it is.

They don’t dawdle much through appetizers. Ilya mans the grill, because Shane is not sure he has the ability to perfectly time the salmon and the veggie skewers while his brain is running in thirty different directions at once.

“Dad, do you mind helping Ilya over there? Maybe grab a serving tray from the kitchen for him.”

“Sure, sure,” his dad says, meandering through the glass sliding doors and into the kitchen. 

“Mom, how was golfing the other day?”

“It was lovely, actually. Mary-Ann came, thank god, so I didn’t have to be left alone with Deborah. You know how she can be. Oh! And Mary-Ann mentioned her daughter, Liz, officially moved to Montreal for a job in marketing. At Raymond James Financial, I believe. I told her you’d send Liz some of your favorite things to do in the city, maybe show her around.” She pulls out her phone and a few seconds later Shane’s watch buzzes – his mom sent over Liz’s contact card. For the second time in a month.

“Uh, sure, uhm. Okay,” Shane says, knowing he has no interest in connecting with Liz just so he can share what coffee shops he occasionally stops in or what Chipotle has the freshest lettuce. He didn’t want to connect with her a month ago when his mom first tried, either.

“I’m sure we could send her some of our favorite spots,” Ilya chimes in, placing the salmon on the tray his father deposited next to the grill. “There’s a few bars in Saint-Henri and Mile End I like. Maybe we can grab a drink?” It comes out as a question aimed at Shane, who isn’t able to respond before his mother does.

Yuna purses her lips and takes a sip of her sauvignon blanc. “Very kind of you, Ilya. I’m sure she’d appreciate it. Shane, really, it would be kind, while you’re in training at least, to connect with her. Mary-Ann is very kind to me.”

Shane clenches his jaw and asks her if she’d like a wine refill.

By the time they all sit down to eat, Shane is trying desperately to think of ways to get the conversation flowing better. 

“Thanks, Ilya, for cooking. Mom, I found this lemon dill salmon recipe online, and Ilya has perfected it this summer.”

“Looking forward to trying it,” Yuna says, placing a small piece on her plate before passing it to David. “I wanted to check in about the Liquid IV sponsorship. I emailed you about it, but they are requesting an Instagram–”

“Mom,” Shane interjects. “Can we not talk about work right now? I was actually hoping to–”

“Shane, honey, it won’t take too long. I’m sure Ilya won’t mind.”

Shane rolls his eyes. “I’m not trying to avoid the conversation because I think Ilya will mind.” He takes a deep breath and tries to refocus himself. “I just…I have three days left of vacation. This seems like it can wait until then. Plus, Ilya and I were hoping to ask you something.”

Shane places his hand on Ilya’s thigh, and Ilya understands that as his cue.

“Yes! Yes. Uhm,” he coughs. “We think that my deal with the Centaurs will come through later this year. And Shane and I were, uhm, planning to start looking – maybe not seriously, not yet. Just to get an idea! – at some houses in Ottawa. We were hoping you’d be able to maybe help us, or lead us in a good direction.”

“It would be nice to look at places with you,” Shane says, more to the point. He doesn’t want to equivocate.

“Oh!” Yuna exhales, placing her fork down and putting her hands in her lap. “I didn’t realize you were actually planning on transferring.”

“Mom,” Shane says, a slight warning in his voice. “We’ve been telling you for a year that Ilya was a free agent after this season.”

“Well, yes, Shane. But–”

“We have been saying that he was in talks with the Centaurs,” he reminds her. “You know that we had Farah take him on as a client last year so that she could help bring him to Canada and so we could have someone on our team who knows about our relationship.”

“It’s just…that’s a big move is all I’m saying! And the Centaurs have historically struggled with even having winning seasons. It seems like quite the mismanagement of his car–”

“I think what your mother is trying to say,” David interjects, “is we are surprised, is all. That you, Ilya, are seriously considering moving to Ottawa. That’s all.” His father, per usual, pronounces his name as Ee-lee-yuh. Shane has corrected him multiple times until Ilya told him to just let it go.

Ilya squeezes Shane’s hand and interlaces their fingers on his thigh.

“Of course I was serious,” he says. “Shane and I want a future together.”

No one says anything, and Shane stews in the silence between them.

“Well,” his mother says as she stands up from the table with her partially full plate. “I’m sure I can look into high-end realtors. David, honey, can you help me clear the table? The boys cooked, so we’d be happy to clean up.”

“Of course, of course,” David replies, following suit and carrying the roasted vegetables inside.

Shane was going to go for seconds, but whatever.

When the table is cleared and dessert has been brought out and picked at listlessly, Shane decides to try one more time.

“I’ll send you some properties we are thinking about looking at, and maybe you can take a look at them and send us pictures and your thoughts?”

Yuna nods slowly, her face a blank canvas that makes Shane feel like he’s looking at himself.

“I’m rather busy this upcoming fall, what with the increase in your sponsorships and my golf lessons. But of course feel free to share what places interest you. And I will send realtor options. Diane worked with someone a few years ago who came highly recommended. You remember her, Shane? I met her through your Nike deal. Anyway, I’ll just reach out to her.”

Shane nods, understanding that the conversation has come to its natural conclusion. He tries to not let his stomach roll too badly from upset.

“That was awkward, right? It was awkward,” Shane states after his parents have left and the kitchen has been cleaned.

“No more awkward than the last few times,” Ilya laconically responds. 

“Do you think she’ll actually help us look at places?” Shane asks.

Ilya drops the rag he was using to dry the dishes and turns towards Shane. 

“You know her better than I do. What do you think?”

“I think she was bullshitting me. And did you hear her mention Liz? Liz, Ilya! Liz! Liz is the same girl she brought up last time we got together, a month ago. Remember?!”

Ilya nods, and Shane knows that he’s likely trying so hard to hold his tongue. Shane has been complaining about Liz for a while now. Not because he dislikes her – he’s never met her. But his mom keeps breathing down his back to meet up with her. 

“I don’t want to meet up with fucking Liz, Ilya. And what was with her weirdly trying to get out of helping us house search? Do you know how involved she was when I had this cabin built? Every property I buy she wants to walk through before I sign the papers!”

Ilya nods, but keeps his distance, and Shane is grateful for that because he is working himself up and doesn’t think he’d appreciate Ilya trying to calm him down right now. 

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Shane exclaims.

Ilya takes a breath and caves in on himself a bit, and Shane immediately apologizes and steps forward, arms raised in surrender.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just annoyed. Not at you!”

“You’re allowed to be,” Ilya acknowledges. “I…You are so close with your mother, Shane, and I really don’t want to get in the middle of it. I just want to support you however I can.”

“I know, I know that. And you do. You really do. But you’re allowed to have thoughts and opinions, too.”

Ilya nods and contemplates for a moment. 

“I don’t think she will help us look for a house. And yes, you are right to feel annoyed at her bringing Liz up again. But I do think that this went well, tonight.”

“Did it go well or did it just not go poorly?” 

Ilya steps forward and hugs him. He doesn’t answer Shane’s question, but his silence is answer enough.

He lets a few tears slip from the corner of his eyes.

Last month when Shane and Ilya went golfing with his mom, she made a few comments that didn’t irk Shane until a few days later when he finally connected some dots. They did a half-course at the country club his mother is a member of because Shane did not want to subject Ilya to four hours with his mom on a full course.

She mostly talked to Shane, though occasionally asked Ilya a question. She wouldn’t let Ilya drive the golf cart, only herself or Shane, making some underhanded comments about a golf cart being different than a Lamborghini. Ilya chose to laugh at them as if they were an inside joke, but it didn’t take a genius to know it was forced and made him uncomfortable. Shane, truly afraid to stand up to his mother, shared a conspiratorial eyeroll with Ilya and apologized to him afterwards.

“When is Rose coming out to visit?” his mother asked Shane as they drove to the next hole, Ilya sitting in the back with all of the golf bags.

“Hmm?” Shane asked.

“Doesn’t Rose come out every year?”

“Uh, she came for a weekend last year, during playoffs when Ilya and I went over to the cottage a bit early. But that’s the only time she’s come out during the summer. Usually if she visits it’s in Montreal.”

“So she isn’t coming out this summer?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t invite her.”

“Why not? She’s so lovely.”

“You’ve literally never met her,” Shane replied. 

“Well, I would love to one day.”

Ilya stayed quiet, and Shane changed the subject to something entirely unimportant but one that Ilya could be involved in.

It took almost three days until Shane shot up off the couch, Ilya nearly falling over as his legs had been lying on top of Shane’s lap, and exclaimed, “Was my mom asking about Rose because she was like, trying to get me and her back together?”

“Yes, dear,” Ilya responded sarcastically, closing his book to give Shane his attention.

“Oh my fucking god.”

“Did you really not pick up on that?”

“I fucking swear. I had no idea until now.”

Ilya snorted. “Shanya, she was absolutely trying to set you two back up.”

“Fucking hell.” Shane felt scandalized. “In front of you?! That’s so fucked up.”

Ilya raised his eyebrows and opened his book back up. “Yup.” He popped the ‘p’ and went back to reading.

What Shane couldn’t wrap his mind around was why, a full year after he came out as gay, his mom kept trying to have him meet women. Why she thought it was okay to bring up in front of his boyfriend.

He sat back down on the couch, felt unsettled, and gave Ilya a foot massage, hoping that would somehow miraculously heal how disastrous it must have been to have to sit through that conversation on the golf cart and keep his mouth shut. 

Chapter 2

Chapter Notes

You’re beating with a book everyone that book tells you to love.

–The Archers’ Bows Have Broken

The hardest part about the end of summer is losing Ilya to Boston. Their goodbye is long and drawn out, and it leaves Shane feeling like he’s missing a part of himself. It never used to feel like this, but recently he has felt incredibly emotional at the prospect of having to be alone in Montreal, without Ilya, mostly closeted, and having to deal so closely with his mother. 

MLH Camp doesn’t start for another month, but both he and Ilya need to be back in their respective cities so they can start their training process and host some training days as Captains. They’re still able to visit each other for a few days at a time, but ultimately Shane can tell that summer break is winding down and his real life is starting back up again.

He’s stuck in a weird limbo and he doesn’t like it. Hayden and JJ know he’s gay and dating Ilya, and thankfully they have come around enough that Shane can actually talk about his relationship with them. Hayden’s wife, Jackie, is also a much needed ear and someone whose opinions he trusts. Rumors swirl about his sexuality in the locker room, which is both unfortunate and uncomfortable, though no one seems to want to say anything to his face. And his mother, who seemed to have no problem interacting with Shane infrequently when he was living 10km away in the summer, now is up his ass near daily with emails and phone calls and texts and scheduled in-person meetings.

He ignores it all and goes for a run.

Four months after his parents learned about him and Ilya, Yuna took Shane out to brunch at a place in Plateau Mont-Royal under the guise of talking network connections. It quickly turned from conversations about sponsored trips to Europe to watch F1 under his Breitling deal to whether he and Ilya were still going strong.

At this point, Shane was starting to realize that his parents weren’t completely behind his relationship with Ilya, but he was still naive to how deeply against it they were.

“So, how is Ilya?” she asked.

“He’s great. We just spent the weekend together not that long ago, which is rare. And we spoke more about the Irina Foundation. Actually, I have a bunch of questions for you,” Shane says, pulling the notes app up on his phone.

“We’ll get to that,” his mother was quick to interject. “For now, though, I wanted to bring up some…concerns.”

Shane gently placed his phone face down on the table.

“Concerns about what?” he asked uneasily.

“There’s no good way to say this, but your father and I were talking and there are some…concerns, about Ilya. He still goes out to party, you know.”

“Of course I know,” Shane replied, confused. “So do I sometimes.”

“Yes, but you’re not going to clubs and dancing with women,” she pointed out.

“I mean, yes, I am going to clubs, mom. Just not frequently because I don’t enjoy it. He does though.”

“And the women?” 

“What women?” Shane asked, unsure if his mother knew something he didn’t know or if this was another attempt to inject suspicion into Shane’s trust of Ilya.

“The women he dances with,” Yuna replied breezily, though Shane couldn’t help but think she was putting on airs.

“Mom,” he said in what he hoped was his serious adult voice. “Ilya is allowed to go out and have fun and dance with whoever he wants. He is not allowed to make out or sleep with anyone else, and I trust that he isn’t. We do talk about these things, you know.”

“But are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” he said calmly. “I trust him.”

“How could you possibly be okay with him dancing with other people?”

“Because I don’t care. I don’t like to dance, or go to clubs, and it isn’t like we can dance together anyway. If he wants to dance with people, he’s allowed to! He isn’t doing anything else with them. I’m allowed to, too, you know.”

“You’re not concerned he may end up wanting to be with a woman? I heard a phrase the other day, how sometimes bisexuality is just a phase–”

“Mom,” Shane warned, immediately his eyes glazed over as he glared forward, just barely not making eye contact with his mother. “That is…incredibly biphobic.” 

“All I’m saying is I want you to be sure that Ilya feels for you what you feel for him.”

Shane was so livid he felt like he had to actually stop himself from combusting. He couldn’t even respond, which his mother must have picked up on. 

“Okay,” his mom shrugged, though clearly she wasn’t as at ease about this as she was trying to seem. “I’ve said my piece, that’s all I can do.”

He was foolish to think that that would be enough for her.

When Shane relayed this entire conversation to Ilya over Facetime that night, Ilya asked Shane, sounding deeply unsettled, “Shane, how does your mother know if I am dancing with women at clubs?”

Shane didn’t even think to ask his mother this. He stuttered out a non-response, completely unsure how his mother had this information in the first place.

“And I’m not,” Ilya continued. “Not really, and you know that. I dance with friends and my friends' girlfriends and wives.”

“I know,” Shane said, feeling slightly chastised and very guilty.

Ilya sighed. “Shane, can you please try to stick up for me to her?”

“I’m sorry,” Shane said. “You’re right, you’re right. I just…fuck, I don’t even  realize when she’s doing this sometimes.”

Ilya didn’t reply, just stared at him quietly and nodded.

Shane felt like shit about it for the rest of the week.

Training camp kicks Shane’s ass like it normally does. No longer can he and Ilya see each other whenever they want, but instead they’re fully reliant on their MLH Camp and pre-season schedules. They fall back into their near nightly video calls and hours long weekend chats where they live their life in tandem, nearly 500 kilometers apart. 

His mother makes the two hour drive to Montreal at least once a week, where she and Shane meet to talk about whatever they need to talk about before the season picks up and their meetings move to mostly virtual. 

It hasn’t been pleasant for Shane. 

“Honey, please. This could be a good opportunity for you,” she states. 

“I don’t really have the time, mom,” Shane replies from the other side of his breakfast nook, paperwork laid out in front of him for a brand deal he has no interest in taking.

“It’s a small company, and the deal they’re offering is quite nice. They’re not even asking that much of you. Plus, they’ve worked with other hockey players before.” She goes on to explain, for the second time, what the energy drink company wants from him, which is essentially just a few social media posts and him walking around town in a t-shirt of theirs. 

Shane acknowledges it isn’t much, and goes through the paperwork one more time before pulling his phone out and Googling the company.

He does not like what he sees.

“Mom,” he reproaches. “You cannot be serious.” 

“What?” she says, confusion painted on her face.

“Have you even looked at what this company is?” Shane asks, deadpan and hoping that for some reason the company’s mission statement failed to make its way across his mother’s desk.

“Shane, they’re a lovely group of people–”

“It’s a Christian energy drink!” Shane yelps.

Yuna hesitates in her response, stumbling over a few words that Shane can’t quite make out.

“I’m not even Christian!”

“Yes you are,” Yuna immediately interjects.

“What are you talking about?” Shane rebukes, hands splayed out in front of him, questioningly.

“You were raised Christian,” Yuna replies reproachfully, an eerie calmness to her voice that unsettles Shane because it feels so insincere.

“Mom, I went to church like six times in my entire life. I don’t even know what denomination you and dad are. We celebrate Christmas and Easter and I stopped going to Sunday School when I was in kindergarten because it started costing money and you didn’t want to pay, or wake up early on your one day off to drive me.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Yuna grabs the paperwork and reorganizes it into a single sheaf. “I didn’t realize this would be so traumatic for you.” Her voice is laced with disapproval, and maybe a hint of sarcasm.

“I don’t think they’d even want me representing them,” Shane tries, hoping that he can take this conversation down a different route.

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” Shane rolls his eyes. “Maybe because I’m gay?”

Yuna doesn’t reply. She sits motionless, staring at Shane in a way that Shane just can’t interpret. It makes him feel scrutinized and uncomfortable, which he isn’t used to receiving from his mother’s gaze.

“Think about it,” she says with forced nonchalance as she stands up and walks to the sink to refill her glass of water. “It could be good for us all to get back to our roots.”

Shane puts the papers through the shredder in his office when his mother leaves.

Shane does not sign the deal with the Christian energy drink company, and he spends way too long holding that story to himself before sharing it with Ilya. It’s weeks later when he finally confesses, telling Ilya that he just doesn’t understand where this came from.

“Ilya, I cannot overstate how little god played a part in my life growing up. I once went to a cousin’s baptism at a Catholic church and asked my mom who the lady in the dress was. It was Jesus.”

Ilya’s lying comfortably in his bed, only in his boxers, with a book haphazardly lying open on his side table. He put it down without question when Shane video called him. 

He nods, holds back his thoughts.

“Please stop doing this,” Shane begs.

“Stop doing what?”

“I know you’re thinking something. You’re allowed to tell me, you know.”

“I don’t want to say anything bad about your family, Shane.”

“You’re allowed to,” Shane replies from his spot on his couch. “Cause this is pretty fucked up if you ask me.”

“I like that you trust me with this,” Ilya says, waving his hand in the air as he tries to think of a word that encapsulates what he means. “With all this chaos. But I don’t want to say anything mean about your family.”

“You can still tell me how you feel,” Shane pushes back. “I want to know what you think about this. I assume you aren’t too happy considering you just told me you want to say something mean about my mother.”

Ilya lets out a huff, the corner of his mouth tweaking up in acknowledgment of being caught.

“Touché .”

Shane chuckles softly. “Go on,” he urges.

“Fine. Yes, I think this is weird. And bullshit. I’m also almost offended no Christian energy drink company has ever asked me to represent them. I literally wear a cross–”

“An Orthodox cross. This was some weird evangelical Christian company. Plus, as my father likes to constantly remind me, you have such a history of being a ‘ladies man,’ I don’t think any of these companies would come after you.”

“There’s more than one?” Ilya asks, slightly alarmed.

“Apparently there are multiple! Multiple Christian energy drink companies!”

“I bet they taste like shit,” Ilya reconciles.

“Well, we’ll never know. Because I’m not accepting this partnership.”

“Probably for the best. Once they find out you’re gay I think they’d pull the deal.”

“That’s what I said!” Shane laughs darkly. “Ugh, fuck, I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. And I’m sorry things are still so hard between you and your mom. I wish things were different.”

Shane picks at some fuzz on his t-shirt and contemplates what to say next. How honest he wants to be. 

“I don’t know how much longer I can take this, Ilya.” He decides to go for full honesty.

“What do you mean?” Ilya asks, body suddenly ramrod straight.

“Everything with my parents, still being closeted. I feel like we lost the plot somewhere. Coming out is supposed to make us feel better. I thought I knew where I stood with them, and now I have no fucking clue.”

“They love you,” Ilya offers.

Shane nods, because he doesn’t know what else to do. He sniffs, wipes his nose, holds his breath for five seconds in the hope that it will prevent any tears from falling. 

“I think they love who I used to be, and who they want me to be. I don’t know how much they love who I actually am now.”

Ilya lets that comment sit in silence for a minute, and Shane lets one single tear drop before wiping it away and deciding he doesn’t have time to have this big emotional breakthrough tonight.

“I’m sorry,” Ilya says, voice rough with his own emotion. “You deserve to be loved for who you are, solnyshko. Please know that. They’re treating you like shit and you don’t deserve it.”

It’s about as damning a thing Ilya has ever said regarding his parents. Shane nods, says thank you, and asks Ilya if they can change the topic of conversation to something less emotional.

They spend the next hour discussing anything and everything else about their mundane week. Ilya updates Shane on the Great Coffee Expedition he and Connors are continuing (they’re trying to find the best Americano, flat white, and coffeeshop muffin in Boston), Shane shares an update on Hayden’s pulled hamstring, and together they pick out the roster of eight movies they’ll watch the first month of hockey season that they can then talk to each other about. Shane chooses two action movies, a war movie, and a comedy, and Ilya decides October is meant for only scary movies and bombards Shane with four movies that span from bloody and disgusting to horrifically and existentially dreadful. 

“Thank you,” Shane says as they’re winding down their call. He’s officially in his boxers, teeth already brushed, face washed, and just getting under his covers. 

“For what?” Ilya asks. “Forcing you to watch Frankenhooker?”

Shane laughs. “You know I’m only watching that because I love you, right? No, thank you for being you. And for like, being there for me. I just want you to know you’re my rock and I don’t take that for granted.”

Ilya kisses his two fingers and then shows them to the screen, passing his love through the airwaves. 

“Ya tebya lyublyu. More than anything.”

They say their goodbyes and Shane falls asleep feeling settled and loved.

The first week of the season goes well for Shane and for Ilya. They each play well, they each win their first three games, and they each enjoy getting back into the swing of things, officially.

Shane’s parents make it to the Metros home opener, and they celebrate with a late dinner after the game back at Shane’s house. He pre-emptively ordered takeout so they wouldn’t have to worry about reservations anywhere. Shane wasn’t interested in going out to eat, not wanting to skew too far off from his meal plan at the beginning of the season.

His parents let themselves into this place with their spare key, warm the food up, and have everything set out by the time Shane gets home from post-game wrap up and interviews. 

He’s ravenous, having shoved only a protein bar and a meat stick in his mouth after the game ended. He’s ready for some real food, and his teriyaki chicken bowl sounds absolutely divine right about now. After hugging his parents hello, he breaks into the edamame while taking his suit jacket off, loosening his tie, and running to his room to get changed. 

“Thanks for waiting,” he says when he finally sits down with his parents.

“Of course, sweetie,” his mom says, waiting until Shane has taken his first bite before having some of her own food. “We ended up adding on some tamagoyaki and a few orders of steamed potstickers to the order. Feel free to have some.”

She pushes it towards Shane, and he accepts it like the gift it is.

“Thank you,” he says through a mouthful of egg.

“You played great, Shane,” his dad says. “It’s been such a great start to the season.”

“I’m pretty happy so far,” he replies. “And I’m happy Gagnon’s injury healed and he was able to start with us. I was worried a bit, during the pre-season, but turns out all he needed was some rest and PT.”

His dad nods along, taking slow bites of his own dish. 

“That’s good. Your mom noticed that Schneider seemed to be playing a bit off.”

Shane nearly chokes on his food from letting out a guffaw.

“No comment,” he jokes, letting his parents know he agrees with them. 

“The season’s still early,” his father ends on, ever the optimist. 

“Well, he needs to pull his shit together,” Yuna responds with far more edge.

“Here’s to that,” Shane lets slip.

“Anyway,” his mom continues, “we were going to come up to see you in a game during your series against Tampa in two weeks. We thought we’d invite Liz.”

“Who?” Shane asks, shoveling another bite of food into his mouth.

“Liz,” Yuna repeats, as if that answers Shane’s question. “You know, Mary-Ann’s daughter. She moved to Montreal not that long ago. You were supposed to show her around the city.”

Shane puts his chopsticks down.

“Mom,” he says, a warning in his voice. But he isn’t able to continue, because Yuna keeps talking, calmly, as if she’s completely immune to Shane’s hunched shoulders and murderous gaze.

“Mary-Ann said Liz would be interested in going to a game. She isn’t terribly into hockey, but likes it enough, I’ve been told. And since we were going to come to a game, it just seemed like it would make sense to bring her along so she has something to do. Maybe she’ll meet some new people.”

“New people like who?” Shane asks. He doesn’t think it’s often you make lifelong friends sitting in the seats at a singular sports game.

“Like you,” David replies.

“Like me,” Shane reiterates, deadpan. 

“She seems like a nice girl,” he continues.

“So you’ve met her?”

“Well, no,” David falters. “But Mary-Ann has said such nice things about her.”

Shane pushes his bowl away and leans his elbows on the table.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters.

“Shane, don’t be rude,” his mother interjects. “We aren’t asking you for a kidney. We’re inviting a friend’s daughter to a game! It can't be that hard to just say hello.”

“I don’t want to say hello, mom.” Shane tries to take any petulance out of his voice. He doesn’t want to seem childish, he just wants to get his point across. “You’ve given me her number multiple times. If I wanted to reach out, I would have.”

“I have to say, I’m disappointed, Shane,” his dad says.

“Disappointed?” Shane asks, incredulously. 

“It can’t be that hard to just meet her and have her over for dinner after.”

“Dinner after,” Shane says. “Wow. So now it’s not just saying hello, but I have to have dinner with her, too?”

“It would be nice,” Yuna interjects.

“I literally don’t know this girl!” Shane shouts, pushing himself and his chair away from the table. “Why are you so hung up on me meeting her?”

“I wouldn’t say we’re hung up,” his dad placates, hands up in surrender. “We just thought it would be nice for you to meet some new people.”

Shane nods, because he doesn’t know what else to do and moving his head helps him organize his thoughts. 

“I don’t want to meet Liz. I don’t need new friends. I don’t want you bringing her up to me, and I don’t want you promising Mary-Ann that I will show her daughter around the city. You need to drop this.”

Yuna does what Shane should have probably expected her to do; she does not drop this. She escalates.

“We’ve already given her the ticket.”

Shane bolts out of his chair with a velocity even he wasn’t expecting from himself, and starts pacing the few feet of his kitchen. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he says.

“There really is no need for language,” his dad states firmly. Shane finds this laughable, so he laughs.

“There’s really no need for you to try to set me up with a girl when I am fucking gay.”

“Hey,” his dad says sternly. “That’s not what we are doing here.”

“Really? Then what are you doing?”

“Giving you options,” his mom says. 

“Options?” Shane repeats. “What are you talking about?” He’s angry.

“Options to meet someone new. She could just become a friend.”

“I just said I don’t want any new friends, mom.”

“Well, I think maybe you do.”

“Unbelievable,” Shane mutters mostly to himself.

“And if it develops into something more…” his dad starts. But Shane can’t take it anymore. 

He stops pacing. He looks at his parents. He tries to control his breathing but he can’t, and it’s getting out of hand quickly. He feels the back of his throat start to constrict, the burning behind his eyes picks up, and the anger Shane tried to keep buried deep down comes barrelling out.

“Out,” he demands. There’s a firmness to his voice that he’s not used to directing towards his parents. 

“What?!” his mom nearly shrieks.

“Get out of my house,” Shane says.

“Shane, don’t be ridiculous,” his mom replies. “Your father didn’t mean it like that. We know you’re gay.” 

She kicks her husband under the table, but Shane sees it happen.

“Truly, Shane, I’m sorry. Please, come sit down and we can finish eating. I meant no harm, I just thought it might be good for you to have another friend in the city. Maybe someone outside of hockey.”

Tears are quietly streaming down Shane’s face and the last thing he wants to do is sit back down. He wants to hit a punching bag while crying and screaming. He wants to go for a run and drown out his thoughts. He wants to keep pacing his kitchen floor until he wears down the tile.

He wants Ilya.

Instead of doing anything, he sits back down at the table with his parents, but he can’t stomach more than a few bites of his meal. 

They don’t really talk much, and when his parents try to hug him goodbye he remains stiff and doesn’t lift his arms.

He tells himself next time they will go out to a restaurant. It will be a lot easier to leave when things go south.

Shane doesn’t answer when Ilya calls later. He is, instead, hitting a punching bag and fucking up his training schedule and messing with his sleep schedule and ignoring proper form and altogether not having a good time. Tomorrow is supposed to be a rest day, but Shane is so keyed up he can’t imagine there’s any rest in his near future.

Ilya sends him a text, a simple heart emoji and a few words: miss you. Love you. Sleep tight.

Shane doesn’t respond because he’s afraid there’s no way for him to say anything other than I need you and I need you now and I feel like my whole life is out of control and I need you to hold me so I can hold it together.

He hits the punching bag again, and again, and again. He keeps going until he’s a crying, snotty mess, exhausted and overwhelmed but not feeling any more in control of his life than he did an hour ago.

He goes upstairs to shower and change and sends a message to the group chat with his parents.

Group Chat: Mom & Dad
Shane: I don’t care if you bring Liz to the game. But I’m not going out to eat with you all after.

He feels slightly vindicated but also slightly nauseous. He isn’t used to fighting with his parents or rebuking their asks. His mom has always had his best interest at heart, and Shane feels this uncomfortable sense of whiplash that maybe she doesn’t anymore. This sense of loneliness he feels extends to his family, and he feels isolated even when near them. 

Shane has always loved and appreciated how involved his parents are in his life. Hockey was always a safe space for him, not just because of the physical and emotional enjoyment it brought him, nor the community it gave him, but also because it was something his mom was innately a part of. It wasn’t that there were never any moments of frustration with his mother so closely managing his career, but the pros far outweighed the cons. The support and safety he felt working with his mom trumped everything, and there was no one else he ever wanted to manage him. 

She gave up everything for him. She put herself in debt to get an education that would help her help Shane. She quit her job so she could full time ferry Shane to and from practices and clinics and camps and doctors appointments and sports rehabs and private coaching. She wined and dined anyone and everyone she needed to in order to give Shane a leg up, and built a brand out of him that brought in enough money for a teenage Shane to repay her and his father tenfold. He still is repaying them. His mom is on his payroll, and she doesn’t get paid an insignificant amount. Her salary isn’t for show, either. He knows his parents need a second income if they want to retire successfully and do all the things they hope to do in their lives. They poured everything into Shane and his career. He can’t leave them high and dry now that their work paid off and he’s successful.

When he gets into bed he feels physically exhausted, emotionally drained, and very guilty for not texting Ilya back. He’s torn between wanting to share all of this with Ilya – what happened tonight, his feelings of abandonment from his parents, his fear that their relationship will never actually get better – and wanting to keep it to himself. If he says this out loud, will he be speaking it into existence? Has he really given them enough time to come around? When is it no longer okay to burden Ilya with Shane’s woes when Ilya’s own family shit is far more traumatic? Is he annoying Ilya with all his complaints?

There’s so much pressure on his shoulders, and he’s starting to feel the cracks.

Chapter End Notes

1. Unfortunately, yes, Christian energy drinks are a real thing.
2. Next chapter will be posted in a week!
3. I really appreciated every single comment on Chapter 1 -- like, to an insane extent. You are all seriously very kind sharing your thoughts and your personal stories.

Chapter 3

Chapter Notes

Ever since I was young your word is the word that always won. 

–Guernica

The game against Tampa comes and goes. His parents do bring Liz, and he makes it a point to stay firm in his original promise that he will not be getting dinner with them after. He makes sure to say hello to her after the game, smile and shake her hand when his parents bring her to the players' area. But it lasts no more than two minutes and then he’s gone.

Instead he goes out and celebrates the win with his team. They go to a bar, they order food and beers, and Shane falls into the moment. He sits near Hayden and JJ, and they talk about movies and Hayden’s kids and the new girl JJ is seeing. Shane connects with other guys on the team, and starts to feel like maybe he’s been making up some of the tension between them. 

He feels light, he feels good, and he is looking forward to his first long stretch on the road.

Ilya’s already traveling himself, and they won’t see each other for nearly three more weeks. It’s painful to think about, but they’ve gotten used to a long distance relationship and have managed to fall back into the swing of things. Late night phone calls turn into long video sex calls, and Shane has become best friends with his dildo again. He’s always sure to tell Ilya it’s not the same, and he means it every time. 

They have their first long phone call where they dissect the movies they have watched so far, and Shane finds that he hasn’t hated all of the movies Ilya suggested, though he still has one more to watch. Ilya tells Shane that he needs to stop recommending sad war stories. 

Things feel like they are looking up, which is why it’s such a shock to the system when his parents tell him that they’d like to visit Shane during his stint playing Boston in Montreal.

“Well, I mean, Ilya will be here. We have plans.”

He doesn’t quite want to cop to the fact that their plans are that Ilya will come back to Shane’s, they will have incredible sex, make out for hours, have more sex, and spend the night sleeping and holding each other in bed. Ilya doesn’t have to leave until late the next day, so Shane is excited to actually have some quality time with his boyfriend face-to-face.

“And they can’t be postponed?” his father asks.

“No, they cannot be postponed,” Shane retorts incredulously. “What does that even mean? We play each other four times a season.”

“Your mother and I were hoping to get together after the game. We leave for our trip after that, and since we already missed Thanksgiving, we might not be able to get together in person until December.”

Shane sighs, because he thinks his father may have a point. They don’t often have Canadian Thanksgiving together because it always falls during the beginning of the hockey season. His parents are going on a three week trip to Spain to visit some friends and explore, and that doesn’t bring them back until the end of November.

“I mean,” Shane says, feeling himself already caving, “I guess we could all get together for dinner.”

This is not ideal, but he feels like his hands are tied.

“Hmm?” his father grunts.

Shane keeps talking, flipping through his mental rolodex of restaurants he thinks the four of them could be seen in without making too many waves. He really doesn’t want to bring them back to his place, especially after the last time. He again maintains that it will be easier for him and Ilya to beg off at a restaurant than it will be to try and kick his parents out of his house. 

“I could have Farah make us reservations somewhere. Is there anywhere you and mom are thinking of?” Farah, who is also Ilya’s sports agent, knows about their relationship and hasn’t said a single thing to make either of them think she’s anything but unfazed. 

His father ignores his question. “I was thinking it could just be the three of us.”

“The three of who?” Shane asks dumbly.

“You, me, and your mother.”

“But Ilya will be here,” Shane replies, matter of fact.

It suddenly hits him that his father does not want Ilya at the dinner. Shane notices the moment his father picks up on Shane’s realization, because the atmosphere between them suddenly becomes incredibly tense. 

“Perhaps you could meet Ilya after. I’m sure he will have things to do with his team.”

“But Ilya doesn’t spend time with his team when he’s in Montreal. He comes straight to me.”

“I’m sure his team would like to spend time with him,” his dad pushes.

“No,” Shane doubles down, “they actually wouldn’t. For years Ilya has come to my house whenever he is in Montreal. All of his teammates know. They don’t invite him out when they’re in Montreal, just like my team doesn’t invite me out when we are in Boston.”

“So they know,” his dad asks, “about you and him?”

Shane can feel the hostility in his father’s voice, no matter how hard David tries to subdue it.

“They know I am dating someone who lives in Boston, and Ilya’s team knows he is dating someone in Montreal. They don’t know it’s me, they don’t know it’s a guy, but they know that when he’s in Montreal, he does not go out with the team.” 

“I see,” his dad says. But Shane can’t get a read on the tone anymore. Is his father surprised? Upset? Concerned? Is he becoming more accepting or less accepting? Shane can’t tell if the goalposts have moved in the last fifteen months. Shane’s end goal is that they all come together as a happy family, the four of them. What are his parents' end goals though?

They settle, disharmoniously and awkwardly, on making reservations somewhere for the four of them, but Shane no longer sees this as a win. Instead he feels like he has lost something: his dignity, perhaps, or his sense of self. His independence. 

Certainly his self respect.

He shares this with Ilya the next night on the phone.

“Well, I’m happy you were able to set a boundary,” Ilya says.

“What do you mean?”

“Meeting at a restaurant instead of at your house,” Ilya replies.

“That’s not a boundary. It’s a way to make it easier for us to leave and be alone.”

Ilya scratches his nose with his thumb. “Yeah. That’s a boundary, Shane.”

“How is that a boundary? A boundary would be telling them that, like…I don’t know, it would be telling them to get with the program and accept that I’m gay and dating you, or get lost.”

“Sure, that’s also a boundary. But that’s a much bigger boundary. You are creating your house to be a safe space, and you’re setting rules for yourself so that you are more comfortable when you meet up with them.”

Shane contemplates this, but he’s not entirely sure he agrees.

“It just feels like I’m trying to hold onto a sinking ship,” he decides.

“My therapist and I spend a lot of time talking about boundaries. Mainly how few I had in place with my family. I don’t want to – I really am not trying to make any comparisons here, between our situations, but I am proud that you are creating a boundary for yourself so that you can find some peace in a real shitty situation.”

“You talk about boundaries?” Shane asks, interest piqued. Ilya’s sessions with his therapist, Galina, are infrequently discussed between the two of them. Ilya only brings them up on occasion, and generally when he is trying to share with Shane something he feels is incredibly important.

“Yeah,” Ilya replies.

Shane sometimes feels like he’s pulling strings with Ilya, puppeteering him into opening up. He’s always struggled with it, but Shane thinks Ilya’s gotten a lot better since they became a couple officially. It’s just harder when they’re apart, though. Shane’s noticed that Ilya responds so much more positively to physical touch than he does to verbal communication, and not being able to touch him or hold him when they’re having more emotional conversations means Ilya can sometimes get scared off quicker from opening up.

“Boundaries in what way?”

“Honestly,” Ilya says, and his voice pitches lower. Shane’s heart drops into his stomach because he doesn’t like how Ilya’s eyes have gone downcast, refusing to look at him. “About us. This situation, I guess.”

“What do you mean?” Shane’s heart is definitely beating off rhythm.

“I…I think you’re doing a great job, I just… I had no boundaries with my family. None. I answered when they called, I gave them money when they wanted it. Demanded it. Whatever,” Ilya waves his hand, eschewing away the past. “I let them treat me like shit, and I didn’t do anything to stop it. I had to wait for my dad to die until I finally grew a spine and stood up to my brother, and even then it ended with me losing an entire apartment and tens of thousands in cash. I suck at creating clear boundaries.”

Shane nods. He thinks he’s starting to understand; Ilya has always put himself in uncomfortable situations for the ones he loves. He believes taking the brunt of it and still surviving makes him strong, makes him a man, makes him someone who doesn’t need help. And someone who doesn’t need help is strong, according to what Ilya’s father always told him. Shane’s had the joy of watching Ilya learn to love himself and respect himself again, battling depression and learning to share with Shane what’s going on with him when Shane knows Ilya would much rather turn his phone off and hide from reality and power through his mental health like depression is something that can be ignored into submission.

“It’s nice to see you being able to create a boundary with your parents, is all. I’m proud of you. You’re very strong.”

Shane wants to shoot back no I’m not, and but this situation is so different than with your own family. 

But is it?

Shane’s mom is reliant on his money, just as Ilya’s father and brother were. His parents have not been respecting him, just like Ilya’s father and brother didn’t respect him. Shane sits there while his parents insult his partner, or ignore him, or leer at him like he’s half a step away from kidnapping Shane and forcing him on a destination wedding to Hell.

“Do you think I should be setting up more, like, boundaries?” Shane asks.

“I think you need to go at whatever pace is best for you. But I also think you should consider talking to someone about this.”

“I am. I’m talking to you. You think I should talk to like, Hayden?”

“No,” Ilya says. “God no. I mean, you can. But I meant more like a therapist.”

“A therapist? Like my sports psych?” Shane feels like his brain might be glitching.

“No, someone independent from hockey. Your own Galina.”

Shane bites his lip, a million thoughts running through his head. His first thought is to rebuff the idea. His second is to say he doesn’t need that. His third thought is that maybe he actually does. 

“You think that will help?”

“I think it will, yeah,” Ilya replies.

“Can you like, walk me through why you think it will help?”

Ilya runs his hand through his curls.

“Galina doesn’t tell me what to do, she just helps me realize what I want to do, and helps me put things in place so I can follow through. If I want. She helps me understand my thoughts and how to interrupt them when they’re dark and scary. And I think you have spent the last year and a half, almost, in this state of panic about your parents. And I get it. Or, I get it as much as I can, I guess. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

Ilya takes a deep breath, and Shane’s leg bounces uncontrollably out of control off frame.

“What is happening with your parents really sucks, Shane. You deserve better, and I’m sorry that they aren’t able to love you and accept you for who you are. You are a good person, malysh. You are kind and thoughtful, you’re giving, you’re funny. You’re so supportive of me and those around you. You’re an amazing Captain, a great friend, and the best boyfriend. I wish they could see that. I think if you had a therapist to talk through everything happening with your parents, and also the feeling of loneliness that comes with being in the closet, it might lessen some of the burden weighing you down.”

Shane nods, taking in everything Ilya is saying. He thinks he’s only realizing now that the last sixteen months have been really emotionally terrible for him. Not just bad, but awful. His anxiety has been through the roof, he feels like he has pulled back a bit from his team, and every time he’s with his parents it feels more like a chore than an enjoyment. Like he’s folding clean laundry so it doesn’t end up back on the floor.

“How do I find a therapist?”

Ilya offers to help him, and Shane thanks him but asks if they can postpone this until their next mutual day off four days from now. He’s exhausted and just wants to sleep, and Ilya is in a different time zone and it’s already past midnight for him.

Before they go their separate ways, though, Shane has one more question he wants to bring up to Ilya. It’s something he’s been wondering for a bit now, but has been too scared to ask.

“Do you think…uhm, that you need, like…” It’s really hard for him to spit this out, and he internally acknowledges that he’s very scared of the answer. But he has to know, because Ilya has just shared something deeply personal with Shane, and Shane suddenly feels like maybe everything that’s been happening with him and his parents has affected Ilya more than Ilya has let on. “Do you think you need boundaries in place with my parents?”

Ilya looks at him wide eyed.

“It’s okay if you do,” Shane offers.

Ilya says nothing, looks off camera, scratches the mole on his face.

“Can we talk about this later? I’m very tired.”

Shane releases the breath he was holding and nods. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, trying to remove any and all emotion from his voice. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They say their goodbyes, and Shane promises himself that there are two things he needs to do: he needs to rely on his friends a bit more so he can give Ilya a break, and he needs to stand up for Ilya against his parents more vocally. 

It’s a gut punch to know that Ilya has probably been ignoring his own needs, emotions, boundaries, and self worth just for the sake of Shane’s. Something has to change.

Shane finds a few Ottawa houses that he likes and that fit Ilya’s few requirements. His mom never did send him the information for the realtor her friend used, so Shane went on and found his own. He shared that this move wasn’t entirely finalized, but he wanted to see what the housing landscape was like.

He’s decided that instead of forcing his mom and Ilya to look at houses together, even with Shane as a buffer, that it will be best for Ilya if his mom looks around the market now and sends Shane and Ilya her thoughts and suggestions via text. 

It’s the middle of November and his parents are still on vacation, but they’re due back in a week and he and his mom have been texting occasionally. He’s sent over a few listings, several of which are under twenty minutes from his parents house, but he hasn’t heard back from his mom regarding them. No big deal, they’ve been busy.

He’s enjoyed seeing all the pictures she’s sent of their trip through Spain, and acknowledges that she and her father look happy and relaxed. He figures now’s as good a time as any to follow up.

Shane: Do you think you'd be able to stop by any of the listings when you're back? My realtor said she’s happy to meet up with you and show you the places. Just have to make an appt 

His mom responds with updated pictures from a hike they did outside of Seville, but does not answer his question. 

Shane: Looks like fun!

Shane: Were you able to look at any of the listings i sent?

Again, no response. Shane sent over five listings and his mom never acknowledged them.

A day later, he tries one more time.

Shane: Mom, I sorta need to know if you’re able to view any of the houses. My realtor keeps bugging me about it.

Three hours later, his mom replies.

Mom: Shane, I think it might be best for Ilya to look at those houses. After all, he’s the only one who knows what he wants.

Shane: Ilya will look at them. We’re just hoping to narrow down a few options and get your opinion on things. You know what I like.

Mom: What you like and what Ilya likes are two different things

Shane: Yeah, but Ilya’s really chill about this. I promise. When it comes to decorating he will have far more thoughts. Can you at least check out the one in Rockcliffe Park? Just for design. I don’t think we want to live in that neighborhood.

Mom: Shane, I think Ilya should be searching for his own house.

Shane: This isn’t just his house though. We’re buying it together. I’m going to move in at some point. And I want your help.

Mom: I’m not sure that’s such a good idea

Shane: What’s not?

Mom: I think we should talk about this when we’re back home. We can grab dinner and chat

Shane: No, I want to talk about this now

Shane: Why isn’t it a good idea to help us look for a house?

Mom: Shane, we will talk about this when I’m home.

And, because Shane just feels like he needs to poke the bear a little bit.

Shane: You know that we will be moving in together, right? The whole point of Ilya coming to the Centaurs is so we can find a place, maybe mid-way, and move in together

Mom: I have some reservations about this, but it’s best we talk when we’re home. I have to go, Shane. I love you.

Shane does not feel the love. He puts his phone down and goes back to PT where he and his trainer are working on rehabbing a sore shoulder.

Hayden only knows what Shane tells him, and Shane will admit that it isn’t too much. The nature of their lives means that Shane can’t frequently bring his boyfriend around to his friends houses, even if he wants to, or talk about him in public or go out golfing or pickleballing or what have you. When Boston and Montreal play each other, the last thing Shane wants to do is sacrifice one-on-one time with Ilya so he can bring him around Hayden and JJ and all hang out. And in the summer everyone goes off and does their own thing.

As a result, Hayden and Ilya have only hung out socially a handful of times in the last sixteen months they’ve been official. Their gatherings go okay, for the most part. Shane feels so protective of his relationship with Ilya that he keeps it so close to his chest, not sharing with Hayden or JJ all the things happening between him and Ilya. He doesn’t really talk about his relationship beyond a cursory “yeah, everything’s great. Ilya’s doing well.”

He’s beginning to realize he has maybe painted himself in a corner and he needs to find a way out of it.

He goes to Hayden’s house one afternoon during a rest day. His wife, Jackie, generally uses those days to go out and see her own friends and family, or go do self-care, or just hide in her room while Hayden takes over parenting duties to give her a rest.

After the kids are fed lunch and everyone is playing outside, Hayden hands a beer to Shane and plops down on the outdoor couch next to him.

“Cheers.” Hayden taps their bottles together.

Shane thinks now may be a good time to start leaving the corner he’s stuck in.

“Can I talk to you about something?”

“Sure.”

“Uhm, I…” Shane pauses, gulps, takes a sip of his beer.

“You okay?” Hayden asks.

“Sort of not, actually. Fuck,” Shane exclaims. “Okay, ripping the bandaid off,” he mutters to himself. “My parents are actually like, pretty not okay with me being gay and dating Ilya, and it’s sort of really fucking me up.”

“What?” Hayden says. “What do you mean they’re not okay?”

“Like, they don’t want to meet up with Ilya. They don’t want to spend time together. If I mention that we should all get together, they beg off. If I bring him up, they don’t really engage.”

“You think they hate Ilya or they don’t like you being gay?”

“Both.”

“Your parents? Your mom literally lives and breathes you. She’s your biggest fan.”

“That’s what’s making this complicated.” Shane begins peeling the label off his beer, picking at it slowly. “And it’s weird, because she’ll go back and forth with saying I know you’re gay and then like, try to introduce me to women.”

“That’s…odd,” Hayden says. 

“Yeah, really fucking odd. It’s just sort of messing with me.”

“You really think your mom is homophobic?” Hayden asks.

“I guess? I never thought she would be. Or like, I don’t know. I never noticed she was, I guess. Growing up. I don’t know if I thought they’d be completely okay with me being gay, but I didn’t think there’d be this hostility. And they like, really don’t like Ilya, even though they haven’t spent much time with him.”

Hayden fidgets a bit, and Shane realizes he has accidentally walked Hayden into a trap as well.

“Shit, sorry. That wasn’t like, a condemnation of you. I swear.”

Hayden’s quiet for a moment.

“It’s okay if it was. I know I haven’t been the best with him. And I’m sorry for that.”

They sit in silence for a moment and Shane watches as Ruby pushes Jade down a slide while Jade screams she wasn’t ready yet. Arthur is playing in the sandbox, and Amber is blowing bubbles off in her own world.

“I know he can be an asshole, but he isn’t to me. And I love him. I…if I tell you something I really need you to keep it secret.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Top secret. This cannot get out, Hayd.”

“Shoot.”

“Ilya is trying to move to Ottawa.”

Hayden literally chokes on his own saliva.

“What the fuck?! Are you fucking serious?”

“As a heart attack. We want to start this foundation, too. Go public with it. So that if we’re ever seen together it won’t be such a big deal. We can say we became friends.”

“Friends,” Hayden says humorlessly.

“It’s a small step in the right direction.” Shane defends.

“And he’s willing to move to Ottawa? They are one of the worst teams in the league, Shane.”

Shane nods, rips more of the label off his beer before all the small, wet pieces of paper start disintegrating and annoying him. He places the beer on the coffee table in front of them.

“For the record, I didn’t ask him to do this. He offered, the summer before last. It’s just really hard to be so far away from him. For both of us, I think we need this. It’s serious, Hayden. Really serious.”

“Marriage, kids, the whole lot? That serious?”

“That serious,” Shane nods and leans back against the cushions. He runs his hands over his eyes and hair, pulling a little. “And it’s fucked up because I legit don’t think my parents would be cool with it.”

“How uncool with it do you think it will be?”

“It’s already uncool. My mom has gone off the ledge a bit, with my endorsements, not wanting to spend any time with Ilya. I asked if she’d help us look for a house and she just keeps ignoring it and pushing back.”

“How’s your dad?”

“Worse, maybe. We talk less. He seems really interested in me ‘expanding my social circle’ and ‘meeting new people’. Which feels like code for befriend more women.”

“I thought gay guys had a lot of female friends.”

“He doesn’t mean it in a gay way. He means it in a ‘if Shane meets more women maybe he’ll end up liking them’ kind of way.”

“So your parents are like, legit homophobic,” Hayden concludes.

It’s sort of a gut punch for Hayden of all people to confirm this. 

“What does Ilya think about all this?” Hayden asks, briefly taking a pause from giving Shane his entire attention to yell at Ruby to stop bullying Jade.

“He’s been really great, supportive of me, but not wanting to get involved in my relationship with my parents.”

“What, like, leaving you to fend for yourself?”

“No, no, nothing like that. More like he’s just supportive of whatever choices I make. If I want him to sit through a dinner from hell where my parents make petty comments and ignore him, he will. If I need to vent about them, he lets me and he doesn’t offer advice. Not unless I ask him for it. But I do feel bad, like, putting him in all these shitty situations with my parents.”

“He just…sits there and takes it? When your parents are dicks to him. He doesn’t push back?”

“Yeah,” Shane confirms. “I don’t know, it’s so fucked up. I just want them all to get along. Ilya’s trying so hard, but yeah…”

Hayden sits there quietly for a moment.

“I think anyone willing to move to the fucking Centaurs for a relationship is someone who is really committed to you, Shane. And that he is trying so hard with your parents still…. I’m sorry your parents can’t see how much he loves you.”

Shane does not let the tears fall from his eyes, blinking them away as quickly as he can, the validation he’s receiving from Hayden being more impactful than he expected.

Almost exactly one year ago, a few months after being outed, Rose Landry came to visit Shane in Montreal. 

He had a home game and a much needed two days off, and it made for the perfect short visit.

In Montreal Shane appreciates a certain level of anonymity. He isn’t subjected to a ton of paparazzi, unless at events, but he is used to being recognized and having covert pictures taken of him, especially when he’s near any sort of sports bar. 

But when he’s with Rose, things change spectacularly. 

On this occasion, she came to his game decked out in his jersey and the rumors abounded that their relationship was back on. They went shopping, they had brunch, they enjoyed an evening out at a very nice restaurant, and everywhere they went – snap snap snap – pictures were taken and a small group of paparazzi followed. 

“I’m happy I at least dressed up,” Shane commented to her jovially. He still, to this day, uses the stylist Rose recommended all those years ago, and feels good in his clothes and his skin when he’s out and about with her. Though a small part of him daydreamed about doing this with Ilya instead.

Their visit, though brief, was incredibly soul lifting for Shane, and it left him in such a good mood. Rose is one of the few people in his life who not only knows about his relationship with Ilya, but who supports it wholeheartedly. She even seems to like Ilya, despite also only having met him and spoken to him a handful of times. It’s a weight off his shoulders, his friendship with Rose, because he thinks it’s the one person in his life who affirms Shane in everything he’s doing. 

She can talk hockey with her, they can talk about Ilya and brand deals and the pressure of wanting to succeed, and she can keep a secret like no one else. She only knows Ilya as Shane’s devoted and loving boyfriend, so Shane can gush all about Ilya to her and not be afraid of how she might react. After she left, when the internet started pushing the narrative that they were back together, she knew exactly how to walk the line of being open about their relationship status but not allowing anyone to force details out of her. 

For nearly a week after her departure back to Los Angeles, his buddies on the team would send him paparazzi shots and trashy gossip rag links alluding to an on-again-off-again (and then back on-again) relationship between him and Rose. This was right before the rumors of his sexuality took off, and perhaps the last time he remembers his teammates being able to shoot the shit with him about dating. 

He spoke the truth, which is they’re just friends and nothing is happening between them, but it didn’t do much to quell the jokes and compliments and “you dirty dog” commentary. 

Hayden and JJ kept quiet, the only ones who knew the truth, and Shane let the discourse slide.

That is, until his father reached out to him.

It started with a simple text message.

Dad: Rose came out for the week? Looks like you had fun!

Shane: Just for  a few days to catch up

Dad: That’s nice

End of conversation. At least it should have been.

His dad brought it up during what was once a weekly call, which by now has fallen to the wayside. 

“So Rose came out,” he said on a random Thursday afternoon while Shane was in Vegas for a game.

“Yeah. She had some free time and it had been a while since we’d seen each other.”

“How was it?”

“Her visit? Yeah, it was nice. We caught up.”

“Lovely. What did you do?”

“She actually took me to this boutique I had never heard of. We went shopping. She actually picked it because she said she thought Ilya might like it. I picked him up a shirt, bought some cufflinks."

“Oh,” his father said, voice dripping with surprise. “You and Ilya, you’re still a thing?”

Shane, not ignorant to his parents' dislike of Ilya but, at the time, hopeful it was just a phase, responded sincerely.

“Of course. He’s actually been talking to his management team about trying to get to the Centaurs after free agency. The plan’s still on, for him to move to Canada and all.” Shane was walking around Vegas, trying to get some fresh air before he had to report to the buses at the hotel for the game later. 

“Really.” Shane could pick up on some disdain.

“Yeah,” he said with more force.

“Huh, I just thought maybe you and Rose were back together. That’s all.”

“Why would I be back together with Rose?”

“I don’t know. You just looked so happy, in all the pictures I saw online.”

“I was happy,” Shane said, no nonsense. “I was hanging out with one of my closest friends.” 

“I’m not trying to insinuate anything, Shane,” his father defended, as if Shane was making this entire situation up. His father most certainly was insinuating something. “I’m just saying I was wondering if you and Rose were back together, that’s all.”

“I’m gay, dad. You know this.”

“I know, I know. Sometimes love just comes around.”

Shane had no idea what his father was referring to, and at that time he was too green to know not to ask and just ignore it.

“What do you mean? Ilya and I are together, and in love. And, again, I’m gay.”

“It’s just, you know, relatively new, you and Ilya, you liking guys, so I wasn’t sure if it was still happening.”

“Relatively new? Dad, we told you we’ve been together since we were teenagers.”

“Ah, no,” his father said. “You told us you were fooling around since you were teenagers. I just thought you were ready to settle down, and saw you with Rose and wondered if that’s what was happening. That’s all, Shane.”

That’s all.

Shane saw white he was so mad. And confused.

“I am, though, settling down. With Ilya. You and mom really need to get over how you feel about him.”

Shane remembers being so naive, last year, thinking that his parents were just a little bit behind the times and that they would quickly still come around to him and Ilya. He remembers thinking they weren’t homophobic, just a little old school and traditional. All they needed was to get with the program and then everything would be smooth sailing.

“This isn’t about how I feel about him, Shane. It’s about how he treats you.”

“How does he treat me?”

“He’s a bit provocative, son. He pushes you on the ice–”

“That’s cause I’m playing against him, dad. I’m just as aggressive towards him. We told you that we don’t let each other win.”

“And, I don’t know, I’m just concerned about him. And your future together.”

“What do you mean?” Shane extended his walk, having realized that this conversation was far from over and not one he could take in his hotel room.

“I mean, you say he likes both – men and women – right?”

“Yeah, he’s bisexual.”

“And you’re not concerned he won’t find a woman?”

Shane felt like a bucket of ice had been poured on him. Because he himself had been concerned, not that long ago, that Ilya could choose what Shane thought was an easier life: find a woman, settle down, get married, and have kids the easier way. Ilya spent months assuring him that wasn’t the case for him, getting so angry about it at times that it actually caused fights.

I can’t choose who I love, Shane. Just like you can’t either.

It took some time but Shane had come to the conclusion that, as Ilya had stated a few times, it was pretty biphobic of him to keep flinging some heteronormative ideal onto Ilya when he was in Shane’s life constantly yelling about how much he loves Shane and how he wants to be with him forever. It’s always been you, Shane, Ilya said, and I think I’ve shown you as much. In the end that was all Shane needed to hear to realize that Ilya was in this relationship 100% and Shane himself needed to accept that, move on, and stop looking for outs for Ilya.

“No,” Shane said to his dad with finality. “I’m not concerned that Ilya will leave me for another woman, or another man, or anyone. And if we do break up, it won’t be because he’s promiscuous, or whatever it is you think.”

“Shane–”

“Listen, I have to go. I have a game tonight.”

He hung up before his father could say anything else, but he did see the text message his father sent after he got back to his hotel room.

Dad: I’m sorry you’re upset. I love you.

Shane gullibly mistook this at face value as an apology. 

Shane: Thanks. I love you too

He didn’t even share this incident with Ilya, not until weeks later, when his father brought up Rose a second time during a dinner together, and Shane realized that his father hadn’t left this in the past like Shane thought he would.

Chapter End Notes

Shane is slowly, so slowly, connecting the dots about his parents actions, and just as slowly realizing he has a group of people outside of Ilya that he can rely on for support. But things do have to get worse until Shane realizes he needs to be the one to create boundaries.

I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for their comments on previous chapters, particularly those who felt safe enough to share parts of their lives and stories about facing this type of homophobia from family members. I hope you have found your real life community of support <3

Chapter 4

Chapter Notes

I used to pray like God was listening. I used to make my parents proud.

–Millstone

Shane finds a therapist. He doesn’t know how he feels about him, but he also doesn’t really care. He’s there for one purpose and one purpose only: to figure out how to handle his parents. Ilya has suggested he also talk about how isolated he feels on a larger scale, with being mostly closeted, having a slightly homophobic locker room, and not being able to live authentically. Shane agrees that it would be nice if they could tackle that, but right now he has his eye on the prize and that prize is trying to find a way to get his parents to grow the fuck up.

His therapist suggests they meet monthly, but Shane wants to fast track this and responds by asking if they can meet every week or every other week, virtually, so he can even take sessions while on the road. 

Gabriel, his therapist, relents and says okay, and after their first meeting they set up an additional five right then and there. 

He takes his first official session with Gabriel over video while at home, and he lays it all out from his perspective with very little pretense.

“I came out to my parents a year and a half ago. Well, that’s not true. My dad caught me and my boyfriend – partner, really. It’s serious – making out. Anyway, I was then forced to come out to them, introduced them to my boyfriend, and since then it’s just been…some variation of bad to awful.”

“How so?”

“At first I thought they were just old fashioned, maybe a bit conservative. And I should say, my boyfriend is…perhaps controversial. It’s a long story and I don’t really want to get into it, but just know that we have spent the last like decade of our careers as rivals. Or, well, painted as rivals. We were hooking up the entire time, but the hockey world really pitted us against each other–”

“–So you and your partner are both professional athletes in the same league and have been together for a decade?”

“We have been sleeping together for around a decade, but it got serious a little over a year and a half ago. Serious as in monogamous, planning a future together, wanting to get married and have kids. We have found a way to make long distance work, and are both actively working to get him traded to a Canadian team so we can be physically closer. He’s also, obviously, a hockey player. Your discretion is appreciated.”

Shane feels like he is word vomiting and removing emotion from his words, but there’s just so much to catch Gabriel up on, and he doesn’t want to dwell on his relationship with Ilya. He specifically only wants to talk about his relationship with his parents.

“And your parents found out you and him were together the same day they found out you are gay?”

Shane nods. “Yeah. So I get that it was a lot for them, but since then they really just haven’t been able to…accept it, I guess. It’s sort of getting to the point where it’s unacceptable how opposed to our relationship they are.”

“What does that look like, them not accepting you and your relationship?”

“It means them never wanting to spend time with me if Ilya is there, and actively asking me if Ilya can stay home or not be there. It’s them constantly bringing up women and suggesting I go out with them. It’s my mom refusing to acknowledge that my partner – oh, his name is Ilya, by the way – wants to move to a new country for me. Sometimes they acknowledge I’m gay, other times they ask if I’m back together with my ex-girlfriend, who is now actually one of my closest friends. Once they even asked my best friend if his wife had any single female friends she could introduce me to. Not only did they know I was with Ilya, but my best friend and his wife also knew I was gay and dating Ilya. It was so fucking awkward.”

Gabriel doesn’t take notes while they talk, not that Shane can see. He’s dressed down, but still very professional, and one of his specialties listed on Shane’s health insurance’s website was LGBTQ+ issues. That and him being a male under the age of 50 is what drew Shane to him. Gabriel has a well maintained beard, very tan skin despite the winter season, and no hint of a French accent, though it is vaguely Canadian sounding. Shane thinks maybe the Toronto area. 

“It sounds like your parents are struggling with two things here: their son being gay and their son being in a relationship with someone they don’t like. Is that how you perceive it?”

“Yes, yes. Both of those.”

They talk some more, mostly about Shane’s relationship with his parents, but before he can even explain that his mom is also his manager the session wraps up and Shane has to hold that piece of information for next week.

When they meet again, also over video, Shane is on the road. He scheduled his session with Gabriel for the morning, hoping he could get it out of the way early and go on with his day and responsibilities.

They pick up where they left off, and Shane is able to explain the convoluted aspect of his mom also being his employee.

“So she relies on income from you,” Gabriel states.

“Yes. I obviously don’t know much about their finances, but I know that going down to one income is far from ideal.”

“Are you interested in finding someone else to manage you?”

“Oh!” Shane says, the fact that this is an actual option just hitting him. “Is that possible?”

He isn’t really asking Gabriel, more talking to himself, but Gabriel responds anyway.

“You tell me.”

“Sorry,” Shane says, brain still computing the idea that he could have someone other than his mother manage him. “Sorry, I just…I never really thought about that as an option.”

He’s sort of stunned into silence. He knows his mom being his manager complicates things greatly, but he never thought to take it a step farther and eliminate that complication from his life. 

“What about that feels impossible?”

“I just – she’s been managing me since I was a child. Even before she was officially my manager she took me to and from every hockey clinic, camp, practice – all that. She always had my best interest at heart. She made sure my hockey career was tied with brand deals and sponsorships, which not every player in the MLH takes advantage of or participates in. Made sure I had a sports agent that was on the same page as her for my career. I guess I didn’t think there was a way to…have a hockey career without her being a part of it.”

Shane’s mind is sort of blown, but his heart is also in his stomach. He needs a moment to breathe.

“Sorry, I think I need a second.”

He places his head on his hands, hunching over, and tries to take a few deep breaths. He vaguely hears Gabriel in the background saying his name, telling him to breathe.

“I’m okay,” he croaks. Not because it’s true but because he realizes he has to say something. 

His mom could not be his manager? Would that be worse or better for him? She’s done an amazing job, catapulting Shane into a brand ambassador and big name even outside the hockey world. She’s increased his wealth tenfold, and the connections she’s built are like no other. Shane hobnobs with the best of them; he’s in brand deals that have him working with American football players, baseball players, F1 drivers. She got him into property management and holdings, where he makes almost as much money annually as he does with his hockey salary. Shane went from an upper middle class childhood to extreme wealth in under a few years.

He can’t imagine anyone would advocate for him better, negotiate for him more effectively, or care for him more than his mother does. He’s an extension of her, and she will only settle for the best for him. 

Or she used to.

It’s been a while since he’s worked closely with any of the premium brands he usually does. Recently she’s brought lower paying, less well-known brands to the table. But they’re still good deals. Right?

He lifts his head up.

“What happened there, Shane?” Gabriel checks in.

“I think I just realized I could fire my mom as my manager.”

“How did that feel?”

Shane huffs. “Like the tectonic plates beneath me moved.”

He doesn’t want to talk about this any more, and begs off when Gabriel asks some follow-up questions. So they move on to talk about less emotionally fragile things, like Ilya’s upcoming move to Canada.

Nothing has moved on that front for a bit, and it’s worrying both Ilya and Shane. They aren’t too concerned yet, but they had been hoping Ilya would have taken a few meetings by this point. It’s the first week of December and Ilya was hoping for a signed contract around December or January.

After their session, Shane shoots off a message to Ilya updating him on his newfound epiphany. They won’t be able to talk tonight or tomorrow night because of competing games and time zone conflicts. He wants to talk this through with Ilya, but he also thinks that having a few days to work through the emotions himself first will be good. 

Shane: Major breakthrough in therapy today. We can talk about it Wednesday

Ilya: everything ok?

Shane: Yeah, just learned something new.

Shane and Ilya see each other one more time before Christmas, which they plan to spend in Ottawa with Shane’s family. He hasn’t yet had the chance to talk to Ilya about potentially finding a new manager, because he wants to tell him in person. 

Their game is in Montreal, and Shane begs off halfhearted attempts to go out with his team to celebrate their win. 

Their attempts are unenthusiastic, with no one really asking him sincerely to come out. There are a few comments thrown at him about how he never seems to want to hang anymore. Hayden and JJ know he’s meeting up with Ilya, so they remain quiet, not wanting to add fuel to the fire that is Shane’s now frequent disappearances from team events. 

He hasn’t come out to anyone on the team aside from Hayden and JJ, but after the break-up with Rose someone made a not-so-funny joke about maybe Shane’s issue with dating women is that he doesn’t actually like them.

He didn’t say anything to dispute it, and as what happens with tiny seeds, they grow. Hayden tries to tamp down on any homophobia he hears, and for some reason that makes the contingency of players who think Shane is gay double down. Why would Hayden suddenly care about being so politically correct if it weren’t for his best friend Shane’s sake? It only adds fuel to the fire.

He begs off easily and races home where Ilya is already.

Except he’s not alone.

Shane thinks he sees his life flash before his eyes.

His parents are sitting on the couch, Ilya in a chair across from them, and it is incredibly tense. Shane feels like he has entered a minefield and he’s not sure where to step.

“Uh, what are you doing here?” he asks his parents from his spot by the front door. He slips his shoes off with only a little less care than normal, and for a moment is paralyzed by decision. Does he go over to his parents or to Ilya?

It’s not even a question, he realizes. His body carries him to Ilya, who stands up and kisses Shane hello, placing a protective and heavy hand across Shane’s waist.

He whispers in Shane’s ear, “They were here when I got here.”

“What are you doing here?” Shane asks, his voice firm. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“We were in the area,” his mom replies curtly.

“Why were you in the area?” 

“We came to your game.”

“News to me,” Shane replies. He wants to sit down but their options are limited unless he and Ilya move to the couch where his parents are. Part of him wants to plop down on the chair, on Ilya’s lap, just to be petulant and air his love publicly for his parents to see. The other chairs in the living room are too far away from Ilya to be legitimate options. So instead he wraps his arm around Ilya’s waist and they stand there holding each other. 

A united front, Shane thinks. 

“We wanted to see you and Ilya play. I didn’t realize that was a crime,” his mom pushes back.

“It’s not a crime. I just wish you would have told me. But why are you here, in my apartment?”

“Well, we figured we could spend time together,” his dad supplies. “We didn’t realize Ilya would be here.”

Shane wants to laugh. Instead he puts his fingers to the bridge of his nose and squeezes.

“Yes, you did know Ilya would be here. How did you get in?”

“We used our key,” his dad says, like it’s obvious.

“You knew Ilya would be here, because we have talked about this before. When we play each other, we spend the night together.”

“You’re welcome to have dinner with us,” Ilya adds. And Shane knows he’s trying to be friendly and accommodating, that he’s ignoring his own boundaries for the sake of Shane’s happiness. That he’s trying to de-escalate and be a team player. Shane knows that he’s asked this of Ilya in the past, but it suddenly hits him that he hasn’t quite clued Ilya in yet, not entirely, to the work he’s doing in therapy; he’s trying to find ways to disentangle his life from his parents. He wants to learn to not bow to them obediently and immediately.

He wants to make sure Ilya isn’t constantly forced into hostile situations that make him feel worse about himself.

“No,” Shane says with a level of finality he is not expecting to come out of his mouth. “We have plans already.”

Their plans are meal prepped food from a cook Shane hired to deliver meals to him when he’s home, and then hopefully marathon sex where Shane gets to forget himself for a few hours. He wants to talk to Ilya about therapy, he wants to get Ilya’s opinion on potentially finding a new manager, and he wants to hang out with his boyfriend alone. He doesn’t want to lose this, he doesn’t want to give it up.

For once in his life, Shane wants to push back against his parents. But he doesn’t know how.

“Well,” his father says. “I guess we forgot you and Ilya spend time together after your games. But it really would be great to eat together. Thank you, Ilya.”

Shane from six months ago would have counted this as a win. Shane today sees it for what it is – a paltry attempt to downplay their meddling while still getting most of what they want. 

He’s angry, but he can’t figure out how to say no. He folds, like he normally does with them, and they order takeout which Ilya goes to pick-up so they don’t have to wait forever for a delivery driver.

He feels like the worst boyfriend ever.

“I really don’t like you just coming into my apartment without any warning,” Shane tells them after Ilya leaves and they’re setting the table. 

He can tell this startles his mother, who pauses on her way to bring paper napkins to the table (Shane did not bring the cloth napkins from the cottage back to his apartment). 

“It hasn’t ever been an issue before.”

“I don’t remember the last time you just came into my place without even texting to let me know you were coming by. Even if I wasn’t home.”

She doesn’t respond. Shane doesn’t say anything else. They work in uncomfortable but not tense silence. 

Dinner is a mostly quiet affair. Ilya tries to hold court, albeit quietly, halfheartedly, and in a way that feels so un-Ilya-like. It breaks something in Shane to have to watch Ilya pretend to be something he’s not. He can’t believe he’s never seen this before, Ilya changing himself in the presence of Shane’s parents. Nausea quells deep inside Shane, and he picks around his dinner.

“How was your trip to Spain?” Ilya asks them.

“It was lovely! We got to do quite a lot of exploring. David’s friend from college moved out there for a career change a few years ago, so we stayed with them.”

“I went to Spain once. Barcelona. It was a lot of fun,” Ilya replies

“We unfortunately missed out on that city. Perhaps next time.”

Another awkward silence ensues, and Shane watches as Ilya tries again.

“David, I heard Shane mention that you were asked to participate on the Board of a foundation?” He says the words slowly, like he’s not sure if he’s pronouncing them correctly. Shane mentioned this once offhandedly, and didn’t even know Ilya catalogued it away as a conversation starter.

“Ah, yes,” his dad coughs. “Just a local foundation. I think my financial skillset was appealing.”

More silence, forks clanking, the sound of chewing. Shane tries not to be bitter. He could be spending quality time with Ilya now. Instead they all have to suffer through this unexpected family time while his boyfriend tries to mitigate. 

Shane decides he’s done eating without any attention paid to his satiety. He cleans up his table setting, no mind to where anyone else is with their meal, and awkwardly coughs to get the attention of his family.

“It was great to see you, but I’m tired and I have a headache. It’s getting late and I have training tomorrow.”

His parents take the hint and everyone cleans up fast. He sees them to the door, turns around, and collapses into Ilya’s waiting embrace.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. How long were they here before I came back?”

“Maybe half an hour.” Ilya kisses the side of Shane’s head, and Shane squeezes tighter.

“How bad was it?”

Ilya hesitates, so Shane pulls back enough to look him in the eyes. 

“Don’t lie to me, and don’t downplay it,” he pleads.

“It wasn’t…great. They said a few things about how surprised they are I’m still here. I think they meant like, still in a relationship with you. Shit talked the Centaurs to remind me how bad they are and how no one in their right mind would willingly want to go there. But it wasn’t more than I can handle.”

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to handle it, the shit they’re saying to you. You don’t deserve it.”

“Shane,” Ilya says seriously, looking him in his eyes. “Do not ever apologize for someone else's actions.”

Shane nods, pulls Ilya in once more. He thinks to himself, But I’m apologizing for my actions. Or, actually, my inaction.

“Can we go to bed?”

They have slow, passionate sex that night, with Shane on his back and Ilya cocooning over him. Shane’s brain shuts down for a few minutes, and Ilya is there to catch him and hold him together. 

The next morning Shane has an 10:00am commitment at the training facility. Normally he’d go for a light jog in the morning, but Ilya also has to leave somewhat early and Shane desperately wants a few minutes to talk to him in person. 

“I wish we had more time,” he laments, running his hands down Ilya’s arm as they lay together on the couch. He set his alarm for 6:30am, for no other reason than wanting to talk to Ilya and needing enough time to do it. Ilya wasn’t pleased with such an early wake up, but immediately relented when Shane said they needed to chat, and so they migrated to the couch where they could at least still relax and be comfortable.

Ilya doesn’t respond, just kisses him, wrapping his hand behind Shane’s neck and squeezing.

“So what’s going on?” Ilya asks after.

A lot,” Shane says, burying his face in Ilya’s chest. They aren’t wearing shirts, and Shane luxuriates in the warmth emanating off him. “Therapy has been helpful, I guess, but also just a lot to handle.”

Suddenly Shane doesn’t really know how to say what he wants to say.

“Yeah?” Ilya replies.

Shane nods against Ilya’s chest and takes a few more seconds to gather his thoughts.

“I think I mentioned that my therapist and I talked about ways I could like…keep my circle full of people who like, affirm me.” Shane uses the word Gabriel uses, even though he’s not sure he likes it. “And we talk a lot about my mom and our relationship, and the idea came up in therapy of me like…not having her as my manager anymore. And I don’t know, but that really fucked me up, and I’ve spent the last few days really thinking about what that would be like.”

“Having a different manager?”

“Yeah. But also the process and the fallout. I’d have to fire my mom. What would that look like for our relationship? How would that affect us? I feel like she’d hate me and I don’t want that, but also I’m just so fucking overwhelmed every time we talk. And then there’s last night. What the fuck is up with them just coming to my house?! I didn’t even know they were at the game!”

Shane sits up because he no longer feels relaxed, and the tension he’s holding in his body makes it hard to lay chest down on Ilya. They sit on the couch across from each other, Shane with a leg curled under him and Ilya cross legged. 

Ilya nods affirmingly. 

“You can say something. I know it was awkward for you.”

“It was. I just…I want you to have the relationship you want with them. And I’m willing to go along for the ride, or whatever the saying is.”

“But I don’t want that for you! I am so sick and tired of your presence in my life being this, this, concession for them! As if everyone just has to deal with the fact that you’re there. You’re my favorite fucking person, Ilya, and I’m so tired of people acting like you’re an add-on instead of a permanent fixture!”

Ilya looks at Shane, inhales softly, rubs his nose, and then a few tears drop from his eyes in a way that happens so quickly that Shane knows they must be unexpected for Ilya as well. Ilya turns his head away and Shane grabs it, not letting him.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” he reassures Ilya. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” Ilya sniffles.

“No. Don’t be. I’m sorry I’ve let my parents treat you like shit for a year and a half. That wasn’t okay of me. And same with Hayden and JJ. I know they’ve come around a lot more, but I’m just sorry that no one in my life sees you like I see you. And it’s not fucking okay. Alright?”

Ilya cries softly and Shane leans forward and kisses him deeply, providing all the physical support he knows Ilya needs. He wraps his arms around Ilya’s shoulders, crawls onto his lap, and tries to put as much of his love into their embrace as he can.

After a few minutes Ilya pulls back, leans his head against Shane’s shoulder, and says “Okay, okay. Enough about me. Thank you. But what are we going to do about you and your parents?”

“I’m gonna meet with my therapist tomorrow and we’re gonna talk about some of this. I was thinking maybe, even if it’s only for a few hours, maybe we could find a day we’re both at home and I could fly to Boston? I just want to see you before Christmas with my parents, and maybe figure some of this stuff out.”

“Yes. Absolutely. I could also come to you,” Ilya offers.

“No. I think I need out of this city. Knowing my luck my parents will somehow know you’re in town and just show up.”

Ilya nods and Shane hops off of Ilya and the couch, grabbing Ilya’s fingers so he follows.

“I’ll look at our calendar and send you a few options,” Shane adds. They share calendars with each other now, to make planning things like this easier. 

For now, Shane has another two hours with his boyfriend, and he plans to use them doing anything other than thinking of his parents.

Shane very rarely wants to deal with small talk when it comes to his therapy sessions. He has an agenda, especially today, so there’s no point in delaying. Sometimes he thinks it annoys Gabriel, who Shane is still somewhat iffy on liking. He’s a really good sounding board, but he doesn’t tell Shane what to do and, while Shane understands that’s not how therapists work, it really annoys him. But he’s uninterested in trying other modalities of therapy, and generally feels like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy is the most helpful for the issues he is having. 

He logs onto the video platform, says hello to Gabriel, and delves right into it.

“My parents showed up to my house randomly. Long story short, Ilya and I were playing against each other that night, and turns out my parents went to the game without telling me. Ilya got to my place before I did, and he said when he got there my parents were already there. Like, inside. They used their key to go into my house without telling me. I didn’t even know they were at my game.”

“At the risk of sounding incredibly stereotypical, how did that make you feel?”

Shane’s lip quirks up. The first time Gabriel asked him that question, Shane shivered and told him he sounds like every trope of a therapist. It has perhaps become their first and only inside joke.

“Really fucking pissed. Like, really angry. They claimed they didn’t know Ilya was there, but that’s complete bullshit. When we play each other we spend the night together. Period. It has been like this since we were teenagers, basically. Early twenties. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. My parents know this, claimed ignorance, and then forced themselves into our evening plans.”

“At what point did you become uncomfortable with their presence?”

“Immediately.”

“What about their presence upset you?”

“Honestly the whole thing. They showed up unannounced. But even if they told me they were at the game, I would have told them not to come over. They also were just super awkward and uncomfortable while there, claiming they hadn’t realized Ilya would also be there. They made him really uncomfortable.”

“Can you tell me the specific emotions you had when you came home and saw them at your house, uninvited, with Ilya?”

Shane bites his lip and thinks about it for a moment.

“At first I was really surprised. But then I was very uneasy, pretty quickly. It felt like I was in trouble for something. And then I was angry, because I didn’t think this was an accident. They do things like this a lot and claim ignorance, try to downplay their actions. So yeah, I was surprised, uncomfortable, and angry.”

“We’ve talked a lot about you journaling–”

“I still haven’t started it. I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Shane has no idea when he would have time to journal. Not with all of his travel. And he rarely thinks oh, I should pull out my journal, every time his parents say or do something fucked up. 

“As I was saying, we’ve talked about you journaling so that you can connect feelings, thoughts, and patterns. But it’s still something you’re able to do through memories. Are those feelings – surprise, discomfort, and anger – something you feel often towards your parents and their actions?”

Again, Shane thinks about this. He thinks about their text messages, the passive aggressive invites to meet new women, the Christian energy drink brand deal, the fact that his mom won’t help him house search in Ottawa. Then he thinks into the future – Christmas – and how the thought of spending two days with his parents and Ilya makes him incredibly uncomfortable.

“Yes,” he admits. “More often than not my interactions with them do not make me feel good.”

“Are you interested in limiting your interactions with them, or are you interested in finding strategies to cope with interacting with them?”

“I don’t know how to limit my interactions with them. My mom’s my fucking manager. I’m doing Christmas with them in a few weeks.”

“Let’s start there. Do you have to do Christmas with them?”

“What?” Shane asks, a bit flabbergasted. “Of course! I do Christmas with them every year.”

“I understand. Let’s take it back a step. Do you want to spend Christmas with them?”

Shane thinks about last Christmas and how awkward it was. He thinks about his parents showering him with gifts while Ilya sat there receiving nothing. He thinks about them finding ways to have Ilya sit to the side while they honored their family traditions without him, and how they asked Ilya to take a picture of just the three of them. They left him out of everything entirely, constantly making sure he understood he was a guest and not a member of the family. He remembers them asking Ilya to sleep in a different bedroom than Shane – something Shane has forgotten until just this minute because he had originally chalked it up not to homophobia, but his parents not wanting an unmarried couple sleeping in the same bed under their roof. 

He thinks about all his favorite Christmas traditions: decorating the Christmas tree, going sledding, drinking hot chocolate and store bought eggnog, watching The Santa Clause on Christmas Eve while attempting to bake a new cookie recipe every year. 

“I don’t think it would be fun.”

“You’ve just shared that currently spending time with them brings you emotions of discomfort and anger. That doesn’t sound very fun, Shane.”

Shane sits there, his jaw tensing, trying to work out his current emotions. Gabriel is correct – he doesn’t remember the last time hanging with his parents was just plain fun. 

“I’ve noticed you often have very rigid thinking,” Gabriel continues. 

“What do you mean?” Shane asks.

“It means it can be hard to change plans, adapt to new ideas, or see shades of gray. Think of it as an all-or-nothing mindset with a hint of perfectionism. WIth your parents, that rigid thinking seems to have you wanting to change their behavior, and wanting things to be as they were before you came out.”

Shane does not feel comfortable being clocked so easily.

Gabriel asks him another question, but Shane waves it off, already deciding it wasn’t that important of a topic and moves back to something he believes is more pressing.

“I want to go back to talking about my parents essentially breaking into my house. How do I set a boundary for that?”

“What is the boundary you want to set?”

“I don’t want them coming in unexpectedly.”

“Are you able to tell that to them?”

“Sure. But what if they get upset about it?”

“What do you think their reaction will be to you setting that boundary?”

“Anger, indignity.”

“Do you feel responsible for your parents' anger?”

Shane has a headache from today’s conversation. 

“I do for my mom. Not so much for my dad. But I feel like if my mom is upset, especially about this, or me limiting Christmas with her, that I’m responsible for it.”

They talk some more, mainly about Shane’s feeling of responsibility for his mother’s emotions, and they end their session with Gabriel reminding Shane that keeping a journal might help him recognize patterns to his thoughts and emotions.

“Also, we only have one more session scheduled,” Gabriel adds.

Shane immediately books more sessions the minute he hangs up. 

Not too long ago, though Shane doesn’t remember when, his mom got on his case about a few Tweets he uncharacteristically made. Shane generally avoids using social media outside of a professional capacity, but he was feeling a bit frisky and responded to something an acquaintance in the MLH journalism world Tweeted at him. It was a back and forth, good natured, with Shane poking fun at the guy and the guy giving it back.

It was maybe a bit raunchy, Shane threw in some curse words, but he felt it was overall pretty tame and all in good fun. This journalist was always incredibly respectful of Shane and very knowledgeable; growing up Shane loved reading his articles and Op-Eds about hockey. He felt honored that this journalist even chose to cover Shane on occasion.

His mom called him pretty quickly after Shane fired off the Tweets.

“That was unwise, Shane,” she said.

“Mom, it’s fine,” Shane dismissed. “It really isn’t that big a deal.”

“A lot of kids look up to you, Shane. It’s not okay to use the words you use and joke in that way.”

“Mom, you gotta stop with that,” Shane replied. “A lot of little kids look up to actors and musicians and athletes that dope and cheat and rape their girlfriends. I’m allowed to say the word fuck on the internet.”

“Well, you have an uphill battle, too,” his mom responded.

“What are you talking about?”

“If you ever come out as gay, people will not be happy.”

Shane knew this. He understood this innately. It’s quite literally the reason that he and Ilya had chosen to not yet come out. But, as his parents knew at the time, just because he and Ilya were staying closeted now, it did not mean that they were staying closeted forever.

“It isn’t an if, mom. It’s a when. And I’ll deal with it when we get to that point.”

“It will affect your image–”

“Jesus Christ, mom! You don’t think I know this?”

“A lot of younger kids see themselves in you–”

“–Yeah, and now little gay kids will see themselves in me, too! Honestly, me coming out isn’t a reason to stop looking up to me unless you’re homophobic as fuck.”

“I don’t like that language,” his mother warned.

Shane sighed deeply.

“Can we just talk about something else? Clearly we disagree about this.”

Shane disliked the pressure of being a role model, despite the fact that he knew he was. It always felt so overbearing, especially when all he wanted to do was play hockey. Creating an image of a kind person who’s good at what they do while being Asian Canadian is one thing, but the pressure to never step out of line was overwhelming. Especially when he wasn’t able to even set those lines – it was his mother who did. 

Shane knows there are other gay players in sports – Scott Hunter came out, for Christ’s sake! He understood innately that once he came out as gay to the world that more responsibilities will be thrust on him – to be a great person, to be the best player, to fit the stereotype of a male athlete, to not let his sexuality define him like he doesn’t let his race define him, but also making sure he acknowledges it so that kids can look up to him. He was just nervous about having to be a role model for everyone else and not being able to focus on being someone he actually liked.

The day after his session with Gabriel, Shane has another week away traveling for away games.

Things with his team are mostly status quo, but he notices that Drapeau never wants to sit near Shane anymore and that Hobart, a left defenseman on the third line who’s been with the Metros for two seasons but hails from America, has started an evangelical Bible study group a few of the guys have joined. He has never invited Shane, which is a relief, but Hobart also keeps talking about traditional family values loud enough for Shane to hear it. The Bible study group likes to pray in the locker rooms before games, and Shane does not believe the prayers are very queer affirming. 

Shane puts his headphones in and pays it little mind. He doesn’t have the mental energy.

He spends the week rooming with Hayden because he really doesn’t mind having a roommate, and it’s nice to room with not only his best friend but someone who knows about Ilya. It means he can just be himself in that room. He can still talk to Ilya every night before bed, he can talk about Ilya and be open about how much attention he pays to how well Boston plays. 

And also, ever since Shane opened up to Hayden about how isolated he feels, Hayden’s been overtly supportive of Shane. He brings up Ilya a lot, he makes it a point to say hi to Ilya when he notices Shane is on the phone with him. He even complimented Ilya’s performance on ice one night, telling him “you were on fire, tonight, dude,” when Shane was videoing him.

It also means that Hayden is specifically asking Shane deeper questions about his personal life. At first Shane is sure Jackie set him up to this, but then he wonders if maybe he’s not giving Hayden enough credit for being a decent human who’s capable of accepting constructive criticism and altering his behavior.

They’re in for the night, four days into their eight day road trip, when Hayden casually turns down an invite to dinner from Comeau, closing the door before even Shane can answer for himself.

“Want to go grab something the two of us?”

“Yeah,” Shane says. They hit up a Caribbean restaurant where they’re able to snag a corner booth out of the way of people.

They make small talk, they order, and by the time their food arrives Hayden leans closer and drops his voice.

“I, uh, wanted to see how things were going. With uhm, you and Ilya and your parents.”

Shane is surprised by the question, and, he thinks, grateful to have someone other than Ilya and Gabriel to talk to about it. If Hayden asked, Shane’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Not…great. They, like, barged into my apartment without asking or telling me, using their spare key, the night we last played Boston.”

“Barged in?” Hayden puts his fork down, clearly a bit startled.

“They knew me and Ilya were going to be together, but they just came into my apartment without warning me and ruined my night with him. They pretended they forgot Ilya would be there, but I swear they did it just to fuck with us.”

“That’s fucked up. Not even Jackie’s parents come in without knocking or texting, and they live ten minutes away.”

“Dude, I didn’t even know they were at the game. They came to the game without telling me, and when I got home they were already there with Ilya, like, accosting him. He said it was super fucking awkward. And also, we’re seeing them in like a week for Christmas, so why they thought they needed to come to my house I don’t know.” 

“You should change the locks.”

Shane pauses, mouth open and fork halfway there. He is truly stunned silent.

“What?” he asks, dumbly. He feels like his brain just short circuited. 

“I don’t know. Just, like, change the locks, man. Say you had a security threat. They don’t have to know that they’re the security threat.” Hayden takes another bite of his meal.

Shane puts his fork down without taking the bite and stares at Hayden feeling like an idiot.

“Just…change the locks?” He asks one more time because he’s not sure he is completely comprehending this as quickly as he should. Change the locks? To his home? Just so his parents can’t come in unannounced or unwanted? Change the locks? 

Hayden, apparently not noticing Shane’s entire perspective on how he can deal with his parents has turned on its head, continues eating.

“Yeah bro. Just change the locks,” he says airily, like Shane’s an idiot. 

Shane thinks he might be having an aneurysm. He wishes he could call an emergency meeting with his therapist and ask if doing this counts as setting a boundary, and whether this is an acceptable boundary to set or something too ludicrous and disproportionate to his parents actions. 

“Oh, and if you want to do Christmas with me you can. Ilya too, of course!” Hayden hastens to add. “It’s fucking huge though. Most of my family comes out for a week, and half of them stay with us. And of course Jackie’s family will be there. But for sure, you and Ilya should come.”

Shane’s jaw literally could not be hanging lower. 

“I think you just broke my brain,” he admits, allowing his head to fall into his hands. He pushes the palms of his hands into his eyes. 

Hayden must finally tap into the vibes at that table, because Shane can hear him place his utensils down. 

“Dude, you okay?”

“I am having a mild breakthrough, I think. Or I don’t know, a major one probably,” Shane laments. He’s not crying, he just feels sort of numb but also really stupid. 

“Want me to call Ilya?”

“No,” Shane sighs and then removes his hands from grinding a hole into his eye sockets. “We could really come over for Christmas? You think I could actually do that?”

“I mean, yeah. Totally.”

Shane’s about to say something when Hayden interrupts him, his voice no longer light, but weighed down by seriousness. 

“Shane,” he starts. “I am so sure about this that I don’t even need to ask Jackie for permission. You – and Ilya,” he’s again quick to add, “are always welcome at my house, my holidays, my kids' sports games, my whatever. Come for Christmas. It will be fun, I swear. And no one in my family will give a shit that you’re gay, and no one will say anything. I’ll make sure of that.”

He emphasizes his last point by lifting a finger in the air, shaking it lightly. 

Shane is fully blinking fast in the hopes it will remove any unwanted tears, forcing his face into something he hopes is neutral. 

“Thank you,” he says, managing to only barely let his voice crack. “I’ll uh, talk to Ilya.”

For the first time in a while, Shane feels he might actually have a community of support; a group of people outside of just Ilya who choose him as he is now, and not for who he once was.

Chapter End Notes

I was overwhelmed with gratitude at the response I got on the last chapter! Thank you, truly. It was so unexpected and very uplifting. You all really made my week <3

Chapter 5

Chapter Notes

Feel like every chance to leave is another chance I should have took

–I Will Play My Game Beneath the Spin Light 

Debriefing his conversation with Hayden to his therapist, Shane feels like he finally understands the importance of having kept a journal like Gabriel wanted.

The dots connect so well. He wonders how much clearer they’d be – how much earlier he’d have seen them – if he had a physical history to look back on. He is slowly seeing patterns present themselves that show how he naturally thinks in the box and in a way that is very cause-and-effect.

Today is the first session where Shane really feels like going to therapy has paid off. For once he doesn’t feel like he’s floundering. 

There’s a level of euphoria to it. 

It’s only been a day and a half since Hayden helped to rock his world, and because of travel days not lining up, Shane hasn’t had a chance to get Ilya on the phone for more than ten minutes to share this newest update.

But that’s okay, because after Shane hangs up from Gabriel he gets on a flight separate from the team and flies to Boston for twenty-nine hours of uninterrupted Ilya time. 

They’ll see each other in a week for Christmas, and Shane cannot wait to tell him his new hastily put together plan and see what Ilya thinks about it.

Ilya picks him up at the airport, and they wait until they’ve driven far enough away from any potential airport cameras or onlookers for Ilya to pull over and for them to officially greet each other with a kiss and a hug. 

By the time they’re back at Ilya’s house, Shane is buzzing with energy and a sudden slightly unexpected horniness. He really did think he’d be able to hold himself together until tonight, but Ilya’s just as excited to see Shane and they end up trading energetic blow jobs on the couch before settling down.

“Want to shower?” Ilya asks after throwing together some lunch for Shane.

“No. We can do that tonight.”

They talk over lunch, which is nothing special, just some sandwiches and a side salad that Ilya was able to throw together with groceries he had delivered right before he picked up Shane. He didn’t even unpack the bags – just shoved them into the fridge unopened. So Shane unpacks them and puts them away while Ilya cleans up from lunch. 

Afterwards they go for a short bike ride, and Shane borrows the “spare bike” Ilya mysteriously purchased and got delivered a year ago after Shane mentioned he’d like to bike around Boston one day. It just so happens to be the exact bike Shane has at home, but Ilya claimed it was “just in case anyone visiting ever needed one.”

Shane feels better after getting some movement in, despite the frigid temperatures. He bundles up in Ilya’s Under Armour and thermal layers, and they stick to streets that have been plowed. They stop at a cafe a few miles into their bike ride because Shane needs the bathroom, and he finds himself unconcerned about being seen with Ilya. So they each grab a coffee – black with almond milk for Shane, cream and two squirts of vanilla syrup for Ilya – and stay inside to warm up. Ilya picks up a muffin and takes the taste testing seriously, asking Shane for his opinions before adding his rating and thoughts to The Great Coffee Expedition spreadsheet he and Connors maintain.

“I think this is the first time we’ve been out together, here in Boston, like this,” Ilya comments.

Shane smiles and knocks their knees together under the cafe table. 

“It feels good,” and he realizes this is true right as he’s saying it. He just doesn’t care if they get noticed, and he suddenly realizes that he just doesn’t really think they will. Boston has a ton of sports teams, and while hockey is respected it certainly isn’t the favored team of New Englanders. Especially not when their season intersects with the Patriots. He feels like there’s a certain type of anonymity he can have here, based on hearing stories from Ilya about how infrequently he gets recognized going about his daily errands. 

And if people do see him with Ilya, he can cross that bridge when they come to it. The panic he normally feels is waning, and even though they haven’t yet announced the Irina Foundation, he’s suddenly hit with the idea that he and Ilya can be friends before the foundation is announced. In order to start a foundation, he reasons, they’d have to be friends first. So he can chalk it up to business meetings if he needs to.

He sees Ilya’s hand on the table, and he so desperately wants to intertwine their fingers. He looks around and thinks to himself no one knows us here. He briefly ghosts his fingers over Ilya’s and is immediately rewarded with a large smile and a twinkle in the eye staring back at him.

“I love you,” he mouths, too nervous to say it above the faintest of whispers.

Ilya only nods, still smiling, and runs his foot against Shane’s. 

One day this will be his life, Shane thinks. Where he can do things like this in person, in public, and no one will care. Where he and Ilya will live together and enjoy Saturday bike rides to the coffee shop and Sunday hikes and Thursday yoga and anything and everything they want to do. Together. 

It’s a really good thought.

They go back to Ilya’s right after, and Shane sits him down on the couch so he can catch Ilya up on all things related to Shane’s newfound perspective on how to deal with his parents.

“You’re gonna laugh,” he starts with, “but Gabriel and I have been working on how I can set boundaries. And I didn’t really understand how to do that but then I was talking to Hayden the other day and I had sort of an epiphany.”

“That you need a better best friend?” Ilya cracks.

“Dude, it’s almost the exact opposite.” Shane exclaims with glee. “I think I had a better best friend than I thought? Or I don’t know, Hayden’s been showing up for me, as my therapist put it, a lot more recently. And we were talking and he sort of told me that I could change the locks at my apartment.”

Ilya stares at him a little dumbfounded. “Of course you can change your locks?” He shakes his head a bit and waves his hand in an of course gesture.

“No, I mean like, so my parents can’t get in!” Shane’s waiting for Ilya to reach the same excited conclusion that Shane reached.

Ilya laughs. “Wait, back it up.”

“Okay okay. Hayden told me that if I don’t want my parents coming over unexpectedly, I could change the locks on my apartment. And honestly I don’t know why I didn’t realize that was an option. Or maybe I was just too afraid to quite literally lock them out of my life like that. But I’ve been thinking about it and I think I want to, like, set that boundary.”

“Shane,” Ilya says, voice laden with emotion. “That’s a big step. You – you’re sure?”

Shane can’t quite read the emotions behind Ilya’s eyes, but they look like a combination of relief and worry. He grabs Ilya’s hand and scoots forward so their bodies are touching. 

“I am really upset with what they did, and me changing the locks doesn’t mean they can’t ever come over. I just…I really hate that you were put in that situation, and I’m worried about them doing it again. I did some research and I found a few locks that use codes or like, e-keys. You can download this app and I can give you an e-key or a code. And I can like, unlock the door through my phone so I could do that for my parents – just unlock it for them so they can’t come in without me knowing. I could even grant them a temporary code, so that it only works once.”

Ilya rubs his free hand across Shane’s freckles. 

“You’ve really been thinking about this,” he comments.

“And there’s more,” Shane hastens to add. “Hayden invited us over for Christmas.”

“What?” Ilya asks incredulously. 

“I need to apologize to you, Ilya,” Shane says with sincerity, pivoting topics a bit.

“For what?” Ilya adds, his eyes squinting a bit in confusion.

“I have been so…obsessed with trying to get my parents to come around to you that I have been putting you in really awkward situations, and asking things of you that I shouldn’t have.”

“Shane…” Ilya starts.

“No, no, please, let me get this out.” Shane crawls into Ilya’s lap, a favorite place of his, and puts his hands on either side of Ilya’s face. “I love you so much, and you have done everything to bend over backwards for me and my family. Even moving to the fucking Centaurs. I know you don’t love Hayden, but I just want a good Christmas with you. Last Christmas was awful and neither of us were happy. We could start our own traditions this year. And I sort of like the idea of maybe spending a few hours at Hayden’s and then doing our own thing. You don’t deserve to have a shitty Christmas just so I can be with my parents. I don’t want that for you. I want us to have a good Christmas. I think we deserve it.”

Ilya surges forward and kisses Shane, quickly seeking entrance into Shane’s mouth, his tongue not stopping to ask for permission. He pulls Shane fully on top of him, lying down and trailing his hands down Shane’s back until Ilya places them firmly on Shane’s ass, squeezing just a bit. Shane takes control over the kiss and hopes he can pour every ounce of apology and love into their embrace.

“I love you,” Ilya says. “So much. And you’re so brave.”

“I want to be. For you.”

They spend the next half hour just lying together on the couch, kissing occasionally and holding each other, until Shane is hungry enough for a pre-dinner snack that he has to pull himself off of Ilya.

Over dinner prep they make plans for Christmas, Ilya quickly agreeing that dinner at Hayden’s actually could be nice. Shane shares that he hasn’t yet told his parents and that he’s really nervous to do it. They contemplate whether Shane should tell them tonight or early tomorrow morning while Ilya’s there with him as reinforcement, and Shane is so overcome with emotion that Ilya would again want to offer him this level of support that he practically jumps into Ilya’s arms and they break for a brief makeout session.

Ultimately Shane decides he just wants tonight to be the two of them, and he doesn’t want to ruin the mood, so they push this off until tomorrow morning right before Shane has to leave for his flight. This both gives him very little time to freak out and delay the call, but also it means he can only be on the phone with his parents for a set amount of time because he’ll have a flight he has to catch.

Ilya takes him to bed and Shane rides him for as long as he can before he becomes undone and needs Ilya to flip him over and take control. When they enter the shower together he asks if he can eat Ilya out and even though Ilya doesn’t think he can come again any time soon, he leans over so fast out of excitement he nearly gets whiplash. It doesn’t lead anywhere, because Ilya quickly finds out he definitely cannot come a third time today, but Shane feels so good being able to just pleasure Ilya for the sake of pleasure.

They fall asleep wrapped together, cozy under the blankets, knowing that tomorrow is the day Shane chooses Ilya over anyone else. 

Shane remembers one of the first conversations he had with his parents after he was outed to them.

It was about two weeks after the incident, when he was back in Montreal to take a meeting, and they called him to talk. 

“We should clear the air,” his mother said.

It felt like such a relief that his parents realized how unsupportive they were and how awkward the situation was for Shane. He welcomed this conversation with open arms.

“We love you,” they started. “And we will always love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“We just want to understand.”

And to Shane he thought they meant that they wanted to understand how this happened – how he fell in love with Ilya. So he explained, as much as he felt comfortable, how he and Ilya came to be.

He told them how even while sleeping with Ilya he thought that he would end up with a woman. He talked about the many dates Hayden would try to set him up on, and how even when Shane would go on them he felt nothing. He tells his parents how he really thought he just had to wait for the right woman, and how embarrassed he was that it took him so long to realize there was no such thing. 

They listened to him quietly and interjected only occasionally. They asked about Rose, reminded him what a beautiful relationship it was. He was too embarrassed to explain that their sex life was problematic at best, awful and unsuccessful at worst. 

He made one serious mistake that evening, saying something he never should have said. Something he quickly forgot he spoke out loud. A confession he never expected would come back to bite him in the ass.

“I tried so hard,” he said, “to be straight, to be who I thought I needed to be. And I really thought I loved Rose. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t think it was a big confession. It was merely the truth. He did try to be straight, he did think he could love Rose, and he was sorry to his parents, though not entirely sure about what. He just felt guilty, like he let them down by just being himself. 

He didn’t know how to explain to them that his love for Rose was real, but in a strictly platonic and nonsexual way. He thought back on all of the girls he dated and remembered how much he dreaded having to be alone with them, because he never could perform. He wished he could explain to his parents that he liked spending time with each of his girlfriends up until it meant doing any intimate boyfriendly duties, and how for over a decade he conflated enjoying spending time with women with that must mean I want to marry a woman one day. 

He’s learning now that he’s out that there is some unspoken bond between some gay men and straight women, and maybe he has been a part of that friendship pattern his whole life without realizing. Most of his friends as a little kid were girls, up until hockey became such a huge part of his life that he wasn’t able to have a ton of friends outside of it. But he remembers sharing the ice in middle and high school with the female figure skaters and how he’d always hang out with them when he had the chance. 

All these times he was convincing himself he had crushes when all he really had were friends. When all he really wanted was friendship. 

He thought he had explained that well to his parents. That they understood. 

When they hung up from that phone call it was with a promise from his parents that “we will move forward from this.”

Shane thought they’d move forward together, as a family unit, Ilya right by their side. That they’d come together, support each other. 

It has been a year and a half since that conversation, and Shane is only now realizing that none of that was true. But Shane knows what they say about big words and false promises.

Shane wants to take the call on speakerphone, and he wants his parents to know that Ilya is there. Ilya isn’t as sure about this. He’s fine with it being on speakerphone, but shares with Shane his reservations about his parents knowing he’s present.

“I don’t think they’ll be happy,” he states.

“I don’t care about their happiness,” Shane replies. “I mean, they definitely won’t be happy. I’m cancelling Christmas on them with like a week’s notice.”

“What if they think this is my fault?”

“What do you mean your fault?”

Ilya hesitates to answer and Shane can’t tell if he’s trying to gather his thoughts or if he’s nervous to open up to Shane.

“I am…scared they will blame me.”

“How?”

“Say that it’s my fault. Although I guess they could do that even if they don’t know I am there. I just…don’t want them to think you aren’t speaking truthfully, or from your heart or whatever.”

“I’m confused. Why would they think I’m lying just because you’re there?”

Ilya looks supremely uncomfortable.

“Don’t get mad,” he says, which immediately raises Shane’s hackles and puts him in a position to definitely be mad. 

“Ilya…”

“When they came to your apartment last game, and I was there, they said some things.”

“Ilya, what did they say?” Shane asks, his discomfort and alarm rising significantly from his spot three feet away from Ilya in the kitchen.

“They told me they think you do whatever I want you to do. Like you are puppet and I am puppet master.”

“You know that’s not true, right?” Shane asks for clarification. “Please tell me you know they were fucking with you.”

“I do,” Ilya is quick to add. “I do, I swear. And I did talk to Galina about it. I just, I am maybe a little afraid this will be another notch against me in their book. They always think I am changing you or something.”

Shane comes closer to Ilya and puts his hand on his shoulders, staring deep into Ilya’s eyes.

“My relationship with my parents is not your fault. Okay?”

Ilya nods, sniffles, and looks down. But Shane forces his eyes back up to face his own.

“I’m serious, Ilya. Say it. This is not your fault.”

Ilya rolls his eyes, but is still sniffling, and Shane raises his eyes expectantly.

“Fine,” Ilya huffs. “It isn’t my fault. I know that. Okay okay, you can tell them I’m here.”

“And it’s not true,” Shane adds. “I don’t do everything you tell me to do, and it’s bullshit that they think that. You visit me all the time. You’re trying to move to Canada, you spend your summers with me and my family, your holidays with us. I don’t know why they think this, but I don’t, okay?”

Ilya nods, and Shane surges forward to kiss him, rubbing his hand over Ilya’s cheek.

“Okay?” he asks Ilya, who nods his agreement.

“Let’s get this done with,” Ilya responds.

They take the call from Ilya’s kitchen table, sitting catty corner from each other in their favorite seats while Shane tries to control the shaking in his hand and the beating of his heart.

It rings once, twice, and Shane can hear his heartbeat reverberating in his ears. He feels a little sick.

Ilya grips his hand tighter, fingers interlaced.

His mom picks up after the third ring and Shane immediately falls into his rehearsed script.

“Hi mom, hi dad. How are you?”

“We’re good, honey. How are you?” his mom parrots back.

“I’m actually here with Ilya, and I don’t have a ton of time. I have to leave for a flight in about twenty minutes. But we wanted to check in with you about next week –”

“Oh, great!” his mom exclaims. “We have some things we want to go over. We were thinking of maybe – “

“Sorry, mom,” Shane interjects, hoping to stop his mom from steamrolling the conversation. “I don’t have a ton of time and just wanted to get something off my chest.”

“What’s that, Shane?” his dad asks. 

“Uhm, well, things have just been really hectic recently, and Ilya and I were speaking and long story short…” he takes a deep breath, focuses on the presence of Ilya right next to him, and bites the bullet. “Ilya and I are going to stay in Montreal for Christmas. Hayden invited us–”

“What?” his mom interrupts, her tone gravely unimpressed. “Shane, did you just say you’re not coming home for Christmas?”

“Yeah. I’m uh, sorry. I really am.” Shane’s really not. “But there’s just a lot going on and I think we’re going to do a smaller Christmas with Hayden and his family, and then really just spend time together the two of us.”

“You and Hayden,” his dad states flatly.

“No, me and Ilya. We’ll like, see Hayden for a bit, but I just want some one-on-one time with Ilya to be honest.” It’s the truth, frankly, and incredibly easy to share, surprisingly. It is the easiest thing he will have to say today because it’s also the truest. 

“Shane,” his dad replies, and Shane suddenly feels like he’s about to be in trouble. It’s the same tone his dad uses whenever he is highly disappointed in Shane’s actions, and he only pulls it out sparingly making the tone all the more effective. “I don’t think this is an option.”

“What do you mean it’s not an option?” Shane has just spent the last few days realizing that it is, in fact, an option. Now his father is trying to rope him back into his rigid thinking.

Ilya rubs his thumb along Shane’s, and Shane takes it as a calming reminder he can get through this.

“If Ilya doesn’t want to travel to Ottawa, that’s fine. We can all just come to Montreal then.”

“Ilya? What does Ilya have to do with this?” Shane asks, clearly befuddled.

“I can understand if he doesn’t want to travel from Boston to Montreal and then to Ottawa. Or if he doesn’t want to travel at all, that’s also fine. We can still come to Montreal and be with you.”

What the fuck, Shane mouths, looking directly at Ilya. 

I told you, Ilya mouths back.

Ilya steps in. “Hi Mr. Hollander.”

“Ilya?!” his mother replies. “What’s he doing there?”

“Mom, I just told you I’m here with Ilya.”

“I thought you meant you were in the same house, not that he was on the phone with us.”

Shane huffs an annoyed breath. He feels he was being pretty transparent from the get go. 

“I’m in Boston with Ilya, mom. That’s why I have to leave to catch a flight back to Montreal.”

“I feel like this is a private matter, Shane,” she continues.

“Why? It’s literally his Christmas, too. And anything we talk about I’m just going to tell him after.”

“This is a family matter, that’s why, son,” his dad steps in. And any time he brings out the word son Shane knows it’s a serious affair. 

“Ilya is my family,” Shane retorts, a fire brewing underneath his skin. “And for the first time in a while we have three whole days together. I want to spend it with him, at home, doing our own thing.”

His parents express their complete displeasure with that, and again ask Shane if this is something they can talk about privately.

“No,” Shane says firmly. “No, we can’t. I’m telling you that we are not coming for Christmas. Period.”

“Is he making you do this, Shane?” his mom asks softly, as if that will break the tension. As if Shane is a wounded animal that needs to be protected from the man who’s actually his rock. As if she’s suddenly his ally.

Ilya immediately senses Shane’s anger and gets up, walking behind Shane and encapsulating him in a behind-the-back hug, squeezing tight and grounding him. It feels unfair because Shane believes he’s the one who should be holding Ilya. His parents are essentially insinuating exactly what Ilya feared most: that Ilya’s controlling and manipulative.

Shane takes a deep breath and he repeats one of the things he and Gabriel have been working on in therapy.

“I need you to stop blaming Ilya every time I make a decision that you disagree with.”

It lands with the exact intensity he wants it to. His voice doesn’t shake or quiver, his upset doesn’t shine through. He’s steady, he’s serious, and he’s stone faced. It’s the closest he can get, he thinks, to saying leave Ilya the fuck alone. 

Unfortunately his parents must view this as an invitation to fight.

“Well, you never made choices like this before him,” his father says.

“There hasn’t been a before Ilya! That’s what I am trying to tell you! We have been together since we were teenagers!”

“You weren’t serious then,” his mother says. “The minute it was serious is the minute you started changing.”

“The minute it was serious was the minute I finally felt fucking good in my own body, mom! I finally felt like myself!”

“That’s not true,” she’s quick to interject angrily. “Don’t say that, Shane.”

“Don’t say what? That it wasn’t until I accepted that I was gay and in love with Ilya that my life finally made sense? I spent seven years confused and upset about who I was, trying to be someone I wasn’t! Why don’t you get that?!” he’s yelling and he knows it. He really doesn’t want to escalate this situation further, but he is seriously struggling to moderate his voice and his emotions right now. 

“I think we need to calm down,” his father says. “Shane, we’re sorry you’re upset, but we don’t think a Christmas apart will make this better.”

“Ha,” Shane says humorlessly. “I don’t think a Christmas together will make it better either.”

“I don’t appreciate that attitude, son.”

Ilya squeezes Shane again from behind, and Shane relaxes into it as he takes a few deep breaths.

“I have to go, mom. Ilya is driving me to the airport. We can talk later.”

“Goodbye, Shane. We will talk, yes. Love you.”

“Bye,” Shane says, immediately followed by Ilya.

“Goodbye, Hollanders.” 

Shane laughs and lightly elbows Ilya before pressing the end call button and standing up so he can turn around and hug Ilya.

“Thank you,” he says, “for being here during this. And for being amazing. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner how mean they are to you.”

“Don’t apologize,” Ilya squeezes him back again and kisses him right above his ear. “Everything is good. We will party with the Pikes, he says he will kill anyone who tries to out us, we will spend Christmas Eve fucking all night long. It will be a good few days.”

Shane nods against Ilya’s shirt, positive there are some tears and maybe snot he’s transferring over, but he finds that if Ilya doesn’t care then neither does he. 

He did lie to his parents when he said he had to leave in twenty minutes. He actually has a little over an hour. But he wanted to spend that extra time with Ilya, making sure he is fully packed, and having a bit of a wind down with his best friend and boyfriend and partner.

“It will be,” Shane replies, leaning back to kiss him.

Shane has three more games before Christmas and they’re all a whirlwind. The Metros win two of the three, and Shane is overworked and rundown both physically from the season and mentally from having to be so in touch with his emotions.

Between therapy sessions, therapy homework, conversations with his parents, opening up to Ilya and Hayden, and having to deal with a locker room that he sometimes feels like he’s losing his grasp on, Shane is ready for a vacation.

He isn’t getting a vacation, but he can settle for a three day break with Ilya.

After their last home game of the year, Shane goes out with Hayden and JJ for drinks. He’s trying to start new traditions and keep his friends close. They don’t always get time to connect outside of work, especially Shane and JJ, so he decides he wants to find more time where he can keep building his safety net of friends.

Shane buys the first round and several plates of food get delivered to the table without having been ordered. At first he thinks it might be a celebrity handout, but the Chef comes by a few minutes later and hugs JJ, exchanging a brief conversation in French.

“Of course you know the Chef,” Hayden says.

“What can I say? I like making friends with people who know how to cook.”

“Guess Hayden and I are fucked then,” Shane jokes.

“Nah, I keep you around for your wicked backhand.”

“And me?” Hayden asks, well aware his backhand isn’t breaking any records.

“Eh, you? You’re just a pretty face.” JJ smooshes Hayden’s cheeks from across the table like he’s a baby and Hayden bats his arm away mumbling something under his breath that Shane can’t hear.

His phone buzzes and Shane briefly looks down at the screen.

Group Chat: Mom & Dad

Mom: Maybe we will have lunch after Christmas. The day after. Dad and I would really like to see you.

He ignores it, not wanting to deal with that conversation right now, pocketing his phone so it won’t be a distraction.

“Okay, so what the fuck is up with this new HR handbook?” Hayden grumbles. 

“I think they hired a new firm? Or maybe they’re just updating policies,” Shane replies.

“So just because they wanted to switch companies means I have to read a 400 page handbook?”

“Just sign your name on the back,” JJ says.

“I’m not signing my name to something I haven’t read!” Hayden hollers.

“Hayd, even I just signed it without reading it. Have your manager look over it. That’s what I did.”

“Your mom read over it?” Hayden asks, surprised.

“Well, yeah. But so did my agent. I got the go ahead from both of them.”

“I probably should just reach out to my agent,” Hayden sighs in defeat. “Anyway, JJ, how’s Emma?”

“Emma?” JJ responds.

Shane laughs into his beer, his second of the night. “He’s no longer with Emma.”

“You broke up with Emma?” Hayden asks.

JJ laughs loudly. “Oh! Emma. I haven’t been with Emma in like three months, Hayden!”

“Then who was that girl you brought to the fundraiser last month?”

“That,” Shane adds, “would be Emily.”

“The love of my life,” JJ adds.

“Sure, JJ, we all believe that,” Shane jokes.

“Yeah yeah, just you wait and see. Speaking of, how’s Boston Lily?”

JJ still refers to Ilya by his pseudonym when out in public, and Shane is caught between being touched that JJ is still being so careful and also ready to have JJ drop the moniker and use Ilya’s real name when it’s just them.

“He’s good. He flies in late tomorrow night so we can spend Christmas together.”

“Going back to Ottawa?” 

Hayden pauses, his beer hanging in limbo halfway to his mouth, and Shane realizes that Hayden must have not said anything to JJ.

“Nah, we’re actually staying here. Spending it with Hayden.”

“No! Really?!” 

“Yeah,” Shane pauses and takes a sip of his drink. He thinks maybe it would be good to open up a bit to JJ. He never cared that Shane was gay and was only ever hurt that Shane kept it a secret from him for so long. He has more issues with Ilya than Hayden ever did, but he’s been coming around the last year. If JJ is asking questions, then maybe Shane should trust him with some answers.

“Things are a bit…weird with my parents right now,” he decides on. 

“Weird how?” JJ asks, scooping up the last of the tuna tartare.

Shane scratches his neck nervously and tries to keep his voice calm. He doesn’t want tonight to turn into being exclusively about his family issues. He just wants to bring JJ into the fold a bit more and see if he can rely on him for support, too.

“Homophobic, actually. And just really mean to Ilya. They don’t want us together.” He keeps it simple, but putting it so plainly rattles Shane a bit. 

“Fuck, bro,” JJ says, and his face looks shocked. “That’s messed up. I’m so sorry.”

Shane nods. “It is what it is.”

“It shouldn’t be like that though,” Hayden adds. 

“Yeah, for real,” JJ agrees.

Shane’s phone buzzes again, but he ignores it.

“I know. We’re working on it. But yeah, that’s why we’re sticking in Montreal for Christmas, me and Ilya.”

“Sucks though,” JJ adds, “that they’re being homophobic and shit. And like, same with the locker room. I wanted to let you know that I see the shit Hobart is saying, and I’m not cool with it. I’ve tried to tell him to knock it off, but he’s…” JJ trails off as he tries to figure out a way to complete the sentence.

“A loud and dumb American who forgets he’s playing in Canada?” Hayden supplies.

Shane laughs. “Thanks. But it’s whatever. Him and Drapeau are just assholes.”

“Well, I’ve got your back. I swear it,” JJ promises.

Shane nods, appreciative that JJ seems to be on his side about everything while also understanding that the locker room dynamics are more complicated than any of them care to admit. But he’s also ready to change the subject and move on.

“Anyway,” he transitions, “tell us about the new boat you bought.”

JJ goes on about this yacht he spent more money on than he probably should have. It’s custom and currently being worked on. It should be ready by the summer, and he invites Hayden and Shane out to his lakehouse to give it a spin.

The rest of the night goes by easily, and Shane finds himself laughing and loosening up more than he has with them in a long time. It feels good to spend time with his buddies.

His phone buzzes again and Shane pulls it out of his pocket to see if it’s anything important.

Group Chat: Mom & Dad

Dad: Shane, can you answer us? We want to make a plan.

Mom: We’ll come out to you. It will make things easier.

Shane: Out with friends. Talk later.

He pockets his phone and goes back to listening to Hayden recount the time this past summer he tried to build a tree house for his children and accidentally trapped himself on the top of the tree without a rope ladder to get down.

Christmas Eve goes exactly how Shane and Ilya planned it; there’s a fuckfest around Shane’s house, Shane picks out a cookie recipe he has never made before (Gochujang Caramel Cookies), and he and Ilya truly just hang out together and talk. It’s relaxing. 

Shane buys a little fake Christmas tree that requires absolutely no maintenance and he shoves it on the windowsill.  Then he and Ilya decorate it with approximately nine ornaments because that’s all it holds, and he makes the decadent homemade hot chocolate that his father makes, complete with two different types of chopped up chocolate bars, whole milk, heavy cream, and a real vanilla bean he ordered online because he had no idea where to find one in real life. 

Ilya did not grow up celebrating a Western-style Christmas, but Shane really wants to incorporate any traditions that Ilya has. He has celebrated Christmas in America many times with teammates and friends, so he suggests to Shane a tradition his friend Cliff Marleau always talks about doing: driving around upscale neighborhoods to look at their Christmas light displays.

So after two rounds of incredibly fulfilling sex, after eating a more traditional Russian meal cooked by Ilya (another request of his, since they’ll be doing a more traditional Canadian Christmas meal at Hayden’s), they hop in Shane’s car and hit up a few different neighborhoods to look at lights.

They hold hands across the console, talk about how expensive these houses' electric bills must be, and go home to eat the cookies they baked earlier in the day, drink more hot cocoa, and watch The Santa Clause. 

It’s a perfect night.

Christmas Day follows much the same; morning blow jobs lead to spooning sex which leads to opening presents by the little Christmas tree.

“I want you to open this one first.” Shane hands Ilya a medium sized box wrapped in shimmery silver paper with a green bow taped to the top.

Ilya gently takes it and carefully unfolds the gift wrap, using so much care that it almost seems like he’s trying to save it so he can reuse it. Inside is a cardboard box, and when he opens it his breath catches.

“Shane,” he says. “Are you serious?” Ilya slowly lifts the gift out of the box, carefully cradling it in his hands.

It’s a cloth-bound book, orange with Russian words written on it in worn out blue and black ink. Simple line drawings cover the front, with a stick figure at its center, long pointy nose extending inches away from his face. In his small hand he holds a key while little human figures around him clap.

In the forefront, an ominous looking cat hisses next to a big, bad wolf and a larger man smoking a pipe and wearing a top hat. 

Shane looks on, nervous and hopeful, as Ilya inspects the book slowly, turning it around and opening it up.

“Shanya,” he breathes. 

“It’s a first edition,” Shane says. “I remember you telling me it was your mother’s favorite children’s book, and she used to read it to you at night. You said you lost her copy after she died.”

Shane can’t read the title, it’s written in Cyrillic, but Ilya has translated it to him in the past: The Adventures of Buratino. 

“She used to say I reminded her of him. Of Buratino,” Ilya whispers. “Shane, this is too special.”

“I thought you could read it to me, maybe help me to translate it.” Shane has been slowly trying to learn basic Russian, but he finds it hard to make the time and has put his private tutoring on pause due to everything else happening in his life.

“Yes,” Ilya says, sniffing and wiping his eyes. He flips through the pages, lovingly looking at the illustrations and carefully running his fingers over them. “You went above and beyond. You could have just gotten me a new version.”

Shane shrugs. “I thought this would be more special. I don’t know. You love books, classics especially.”

“Russian classics especially,” Ilya chuckles. “You know me very well.”

“I figured maybe you could start a collection of early edition books. Or not, I don’t know. I just wanted you to have this connection to your mom.”

“You’re amazing, Shane,” Ilya says, leaning forward to kiss him.

“Well, I’m not done. Though that really was the pièce de résistance.” 

“No, no, your turn next. And I’m sorry it’s kind of lame in comparison.”

“You know me, I like lame,” Shane says.

“You say that now…” Ilya warns, and Shane sees it for what it is: Ilya’s nervousness that what he bought for Shane isn’t good enough.

There are several large and poorly wrapped yet colorful presents that Shane has been eying. Some of them are pretty huge, and he has no idea what could possibly be in them. Ilya brings them over one at a time and places them all in front of Shane.

“This is a lot.”

Ilya shrugs. “It’s sort of a set.”

“Does it matter which one I open first?”

“Probably the big one.”

Shane carefully tears the wrapping paper off until a large box appears. Ilya hands him a Swiss Army knife and Shane carefully cuts the tape away, pulling the cardboard box away from the item inside.

“Woah,” Shane exhales. 

It’s a gorgeous rolling weekender luggage, leather-clad with hidden recessed wheels. It’s the size that Shane needs for long road trips with the team, and when he opens it he sees that there’s a garment compartment inside. 

Ilya hands him another box, and Shane opens it to find the matching garment bag to hold his suits.

“Ilya, this is amazing.”

“There’s a few more.”

Altogether Ilya gifts Shane an entire luxury travel set. In addition to the rolling luggage, there’s a smaller weekender style duffel bag, a leather toiletry bag with his initials engraved on it, and a matching watch roll to hold whatever watches he might want to bring with him. 

There’s also a very luxurious sleep mask that fits all of Shane’s precise specifications, and unlike the one he currently has, isn’t stained with sweat and falling apart. 

“This is gorgeous, all of it. Thank you.”

Ilya blushes, maybe slightly embarrassed Shane thinks.

“I mean it. This is great.”

“You’ve been complaining about your luggage for a while now.” Ilya shrugs.

“Yeah, cause it’s shit and falling apart. I bought it off Amazon years ago and never upgraded. So thank you.” He crawls forward a bit so he can grab Ilya and show his appreciation through a kiss. “Best. Gift. Ever.” He punctuates each word with a kiss first to the left cheek, then the right, then on Ilya’s lips.

The rest of the present opening goes by seamlessly. Ilya also bought Shane some clothes that his stylist suggested but that Shane never got around to purchasing, two new paddleboards, his favorite cologne that he ran out of a month ago and forgot to repurchase, and an assortment of stocking stuffers.

In return, Shane also gifts Ilya with a bunch of stocking stuffers, two tickets to a concert for an artist he really likes (“If I can go with you, I’ll make the trip, but otherwise bring a friend.”), and a rarer pair of sneakers Shane knows Ilya has been eying now that he’s become a bit of a sneakerhead. 

By the time they’re all done, they’re ready to shower, get changed, and pack up to head to Hayden’s house.

“You have the cookies and the appetizer?” Shane asks Ilya as they’re doing the last minute run around making sure they have everything.

“Yes, I will grab them now. And also the wine.”

“I have the wine in the car already,” Shane says. “I bought exactly what Jackie told me her parents drink.”

Ilya comes over and pecks him on the lips, food in tow, and together they head out to spend the afternoon and evening with the Pikes.

Chapter End Notes

1. The Gochujang Caramel cookies are a real recipe released years after this story takes place, but I don't care. They're tasty as fuck. I use the NYTimes recipe, but there are some other free/not behind a paywall copycat recipes out there (Beyond Kimchee's looks good and pretty faithful to the original, though I haven't tried her version yet). I absolutely suggest people try it!

2. I know people have been hoping to see some leaps of growth in Shane as he begins setting firmer boundaries with his family, and I promise that we are getting there. He is learning to create those boundaries, he is learning to not jump every time they say jump, and he's learning to trust himself and his own choices. It's hard for Shane, and I hope you all see how deeply he loves his parents (his mother particularly) and how much he fears any fallout from them. But he's trying to grow and learn, he's making small changes that are setting him up to make big changes, he's building a community of support, he's learning to prioritize Ilya fully (and realizing that he wasn't always prioritizing Ilya's feelings and emotions when he thought he was) and I'm excited for you all to see what comes next.

3. Also, I have read and appreciated every single comment. Thanks to everyone who takes the time to write something, small or big, to let me know they're going on this journey with me.

Chapter 6

Chapter Notes

It's hard to walk through all the places that your life used to be in.

So you thought you'd shed a layer, maybe try on some new skin.

–Same Logic/Teeth 

Shane is nervous about the prospect of being outed. He’s living in this liminal space where his sexuality is starting to come into question by those close to him, but by and large he hasn’t said anything to confirm or deny it. He’s starting to think that maybe he should play it fast and loose, and if some people find out then who cares. Simultaneously he’s incredibly nervous about any career fall out, especially if people find out about Ilya’s sexuality as a result.

He’s worried about Russia – not only Ilya’s inability to ever go back when their relationship becomes public, but also because his citizenship could be at risk. He’s not yet an American citizen or Green Card holder, and with his upcoming free agency and a contract with the Centaurs not yet signed, Shane’s incredibly concerned for Ilya’s safety. Ilya also has a lot of money tied up in Russia still, along with an apartment he’s currently letting his brother live in. But all of the utilities are in Ilya’s name, and his brother has a habit of not paying the bills on occasion so Ilya has to do it for him. Shane wants Ilya’s finances and legal residency to be settled before they come out, but it’s also a fine line talking to Ilya about it because it often makes Ilya shut down.

He isn’t sure how to walk the line of being open about his sexuality but lying about his relationship. Any question regarding Boston Lily also makes him uncomfortable, because he feels like the lies he’d have to tell would build up and up and up until they crumble at his feet, leaving a mess too big to clean up.

A small faction of his teammates already seem to understand that Boston Lily isn’t a girl, and the passive aggressive comments Shane has to live through during practices and in the locker room make him uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as what could happen when they all learn who Boston Lily really is.

Hayden told Shane that he won’t tell his family anything about Shane and Ilya unless Shane wants him to, but also that he really does trust his and Jackie’s families to keep this secret. Ultimately Shane and Ilya spoke and decided that they will keep the PDA incredibly light, perhaps private, but not lie or try to fake a friendship. They do have the burgeoning Irina Foundation they can talk about, and having that as an out does give Shane some comfort. He assumes most people will just assume that they – Shane, Ilya, and Hayden – are all friends.

However, all of Hayden and Jackie’s four children know them as Uncle Shane and Uncle Ilya. While Ilya has only interacted with Hayden and Jackie’s kids a handful of times, they know Shane and Ilya are boyfriends and constantly ask them when they’ll get married so they can be Flower Girls and Ring Bearers (Arthur wants to be a flower boy and Ruby demands she be a Ring Bearer in a sparkly dress and a tie). Ilya has promised them all that this will definitely happen, much to Shane’s chagrin. Anytime the kids ask Ilya when they’ll get married so their dreams can come true, he dramatically sighs and says to them “I don’t know! You have to ask Uncle Shane. I’m also waiting, you know. It’s taking a really long time.”

The first time it happened Shane hit Ilya with a pillow and a pillow fight broke out (the kids won), but by the fourth time the kids asked them and Ilya responded as such, Shane realized that maybe this was Ilya’s way of saying he wants Shane to be the one who proposes. He keeps that piece of information in his back pocket and has spent many an evening searching wedding bands online.

There’s always a small twinge in his heart, as he’s scoping out jewelry stores and researching different ring styles, that it isn’t something he gets to do with his mom at his side. 

So their plan today is to just show up to the Pike household and see what unfolds, and Shane isn’t feeling nearly as uncomfortable about it after having talked it through with Gabriel. 

They knock on the door but when no one answers after a minute and they can hear the noise and chaos inside, Shane slowly opens the door uttering a hello. What he’s greeted with is probably twenty people and a dozen kids running crazy, wearing Christmas sweaters, music echoing through the speakers, and someone screaming “Shane!”

It’s Anthony, Hayden’s younger brother who Shane has met dozens of times throughout the years. He’s a welcome sight.

He puts his hand out and they shake and exchange pleasantries.

“This is Ilya,” he says, with no descriptor, and Ilya and Anthony shake hands as well.

“Here, let me help you with everything.” Anthony grabs a bottle of wine and the appetizer and they make their way through the entryway past the formal living room and dining room and into the kitchen where Jackie is plating up some more appetizers.

“Shane! Ilya! Happy Christmas.” She leans over and kisses them each on the cheek. “Are these the cookies you mentioned? The spicy caramel ones?” 

“Yeah. They’re not actually spicy, but they turned out really good.”

“You can put them over on that counter. We’re sort of just piling all of the desserts there. Wine’s over by the bar by the living room. And you know where to throw anything else. Also, oh my god, take your jackets off! We ran out of room in the hall closet so we’re just shoving them in the study for now.”

Together they head back through the house to the study, deposit their coats on top of a pile of other coats on the desk, and run into Hayden on their way back out.

“So good to see you,” he leans in for a hug with Shane and then bro hugs Ilya.

“The family is all here, and Shane should know most of them. But I’m happy to make introductions. Need a drink?”

“Yes,” Ilya says, no hesitation or embarrassment. 

Hayden walks them to the bar and then opens a cabinet in the top corner, pulling out one of Ilya’s preferred brands of vodka.

“For you,” he says. “We ran out of freezer space, but throw in a couple ice cubes.” 

“For me?” Ilya says. 

“Yeah,” Hayden replies, already moving on to grab a beer for himself and Shane. 

Ilya throws some ice into a rocks glass from the ice maker on the counter, and the three of them cheers to a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

“Did you know about this?” Ilya asks when they’re left alone, lifting up the bottle of vodka after Hayden goes to mingle with family.

“No. I had no idea.”

Ilya nods, and Shane can tell he’s touched.

“He’s been really good lately,” Shane adds. Ilya puts his arm around Shane’s waist and leans into him.

“I’m happy. You deserve it.”

They kiss, taking advantage of their brief moment of solitude, and then head back into the party.

Shane does, in fact, know about half of the people here, having been a frequent attendee at Pike and Morrison (Jackie’s maiden name) family parties for years. When he introduces Ilya to people at the party no one asks why he’s here, and only a few people even comment about Ilya as a hockey player. Shane has no idea if Hayden told people to not mention it or if most people here aren’t as into hockey as he assumed, but either way he doesn’t fester on it. He feels normal. Today feels normal. He’s at a Christmas party with two of his best friends’ families, his partner, and people are happy to see him.

No one’s said anything that makes him feel less-than, he doesn’t feel like he has to put on airs. He spends time talking with Hayden’s parents a little bit about hockey, but mostly about how his father is hoping to retire early and about the trip to Alaska he and his wife just took. He spends a bunch of time in the basement playing foosball and pool with Hayden’s brother Anthony and sister Summer, and any random kid who wants to challenge the great Shane Hollander. He makes sure to lose to the little kids and give the slightly older kids a harder time while ultimately messing up his final shot so they win. Anyone over ten he chooses to demolish fully, believing that by that age they need to earn their victories.

Ilya comes and goes as he pleases, whoops Shane’s ass at air hockey, and generally uses his outgoing personality to make friends with anyone and everyone. He woos Jackie’s grandmother so much that at one point he hears them talking about taking a trip to Tanzania together to explore the Serengeti National Park. He hears from a seven year old he has never met before that “there’s a grown up in the playroom giving piggy back rides to anyone who wants them!” When he follows the trail of laughter he finds Ilya with no fewer than five kids hanging off of him as he pretends to be Sasquatch or some other large beast.

“Shane, you must help me! I am being torn down by monsters!”

Shane laughs at him and says to the remaining kids watching this with awe, “Go get him! Attack!”

Ilya ends up on the floor being pummeled by eight year olds. Ruby even gives him a wet willy.

“Ew, Rubes. But also, hardcore! Gimme five,” Ilya says, effortlessly sitting up as the pile of children lying on top of him tumble to the side like bean bags. Ruby high fives him and then asks if he’ll make her a Shirley Temple.

Shane interjects. “If I ask your dad if you can have a Shirley Temple what will he say?”

“Ugh, Shane, leave us alone. We are going to go make Shirley Temples and eat a million cookies,” Ilya retorts, picking up Ruby and slinging her onto his shoulders. 

“Bye Uncle Shane! Please don’t tell my dad!”

They leave the room and Shane decides he should go find Hayden and help out in whatever way he can. 

Dinner is served buffet style in the kitchen with people grabbing a seat in the dining room (or, if they’re a child, the hallway next to the dining room where Shane and Summer helped set up a few folding tables and chairs). But before it’s served everyone gathers together so the matriarchs and patriarchs can say a few words.

Jackie’s mom starts, sharing a story about how Christmas for her always meant being able to bring the whole family together, and how much joy she gets from seeing all the little kids running around. Her father thanks Hayden and Jackie for hosting but otherwise keeps his part brief. 

Hayden’s parents talk about how thankful they are to be able to bring all sides of the family together, and thank Jackie for all the effort she puts in to throw such successful gatherings. 

“We want to offer a brief prayer,” Hayden’s dad continues. “We thank you, Lord, for everyone gathered here today. Family, friends, and new faces young and old. We want to remember those we have lost who cannot be here today, and pray for all who are lonely, displaced, hungry, or oppressed tonight. May all your blessings help those in need. Let us say, amen.”

“Amen,” most people in the room repeat. 

Shane, who's standing next to Ilya, hears him say amen and quickly cross himself. They decide to hit the buffet line last and let everyone else get served first.

“Follow me,” Shane says, leading them first to the bar to grab two more drinks, and then to the empty study where he closes the door after they enter. “Having fun?” he asks Ilya.

“Yes,” Ilya replies, taking a sip of his drink before placing it on a bookshelf behind him. “This is very nice. I almost feel bad for how mean I am to Hayden.”

“Almost, eh?” Shane pokes fun.

“Yes, almost,” Ilya chuckles, pulling Shane near and looping his fingers in Shane’s belt loops. “But for real, this is really nice.”

“Nicer than my parents?” Shane asks. And he really doesn’t mean to be mining for validation or forcing deep emotional truths out of Ilya.

“I didn’t say that,” Ilya replies, posture tightening in the slightest.

“I’m being serious. This is nicer than at my parents place, right? It’s okay that I think that, too?”

Ilya nods and leans in to kiss Shane briefly on the lips.

“I am really enjoying this, today. Everything, actually. Spending the morning with you, right now with the Pikes…all of this is very nice.”

“I think so, too.”

“But?” 

“No buts. I guess I just feel a little guilty. We’re having all this fun and my parents are probably alone right now.”

Ilya trails his fingers across Shane’s cheek.

“It’s okay to feel bad. But you can also feel happy. I mean, like, you can feel bad that things didn’t work out with your parents but also happy that you get to have a holiday you enjoy.”

“That’s sort of exactly how I feel,” Shane admits. “How’d you know?”

“I guess because I feel the same way, too, and after speaking with Galina about it I realized that I have space in my heart to feel two completely different things at once.”

Shane nods, burying his face in Ilya’s chest and leaning in closer. He melts into Ilya, and he allows himself a moment to feel completely at peace with his choice.

“I deserve this,” he says.

“Hey,” Ilya pulls back, holding Shane’s chin intently. “You do. You do deserve this. You deserve everything, solnyshko.”

They stay there for a few seconds, embracing, when the door to the study opens. They pull back so incredibly fast that Shane is afraid it might look like they were doing something far more inappropriate than just hugging. His cheeks are red and he’s suddenly inspecting the bookcase that he truly has never once paid attention to in his life.

It’s Summer. She closes the door when she enters, smiling breezily and looking perhaps a tad bit embarrassed. 

“Hey guys. I was tasked with coming to get you. My nieces and nephew apparently saved all three of us a spot at the coolest table in town – aka the kids table – and they asked me to escort you over – their words, not mine. Apparently you’re late for your dinner reservation.”

Ilya laughs. “I do remember making that reservation, yes. It was somewhere between the first Shirley Temple and the tenth Shirley Temple.”

“Ilya, you did not give Ruby ten Shirley Temples, did you?!”

“No, I gave her two Shirley Temples and three Ilya-Temples, which is flavored seltzer water with two drops of red food coloring I stole from the pantry.” He pulls the food coloring out of his front pocket and shows it to Shane. “I even put a little cocktail cherry on top.”

Summer lets out the loudest laugh. “Oh my god, please can I steal that idea? That’s brilliant.”

“Thank you!” Ilya says. “See Shane?” He gives Shane a look that is equal parts proud and silly.

Shane rolls his eyes. “You really are the fun uncle,” he laments.

“And the fun uncle needs to go eat mashed potatoes and ham. So let’s get to the hottest table in town.” 

“Coolest table in town,” Shane corrects.

Summer laughs again and they all follow Ilya out to the buffet and the kids table, which Ilya for sure decides is way more fun than the grown up table. He is sure to tell the kids this all night long. Shane could have done without the chaos, but something burns bright in him when he sees Ilya with children.

Nothing happens with Summer the rest of the night. Nothing other than good conversation and a few Ilya-Temples (with a shot of vodka for the adults). Shane and Ilya both know she saw them together, and they both know that there is no lying about it. She saw enough of it to gather the truth, Shane believes. But she says nothing, and she acts no differently, and she doesn’t rush off to whisper in anyone’s ear. 

She found out something precious about him and Ilya, and the world did not end.

During dessert Hayden pulls Shane and Ilya aside and they all grab their final drink of the night – a ginger ale Ilya-Temple for Shane, who is DDing Ilya home – and head to the all season sunroom that has been mostly off limits for the party except to the older adults who needed a quiet place to escape to.

“Merry Christmas,” Hayden says, clinking drinks with them both.

“Merry Christmas,” Shane and Ilya reply.

“Thanks for coming,” Hayden says.

“Thanks for inviting us, Hayd. Seriously, this has been great,” Shane says.

“Yes,” Ilya adds. “Thank you. It really has been fun. It was very kind of you.”

“Of course,” Hayden replies. “You are always welcome. Something tells me your attendance will be mandatory now, actually. I think every kid in there wants to be your new best friend.”

Tales of Ilya’s antics spread far and wide tonight.

“I have made many best friends, yes.”

“And you got my daughter addicted to cocktails, so I’m sure Jackie will thank you,” Hayen adds slyly.

“Ruby has good taste. It’s not my fault.”

“When she vomits red food dye all tomorrow, I’ll be sure to send her your way.” Hayden smiles when he says it. “So what’s new with you? Any movement on the Centaurs front?”

“I meet with them in a few weeks. Early January. I’ll fly out to Ottawa and hopefully get some first round negotiations in. There are also a few houses Shane and I like that I will hopefully have a chance to tour while there.”

“I’m really excited,” Shane adds, feeling like a bubbly teenager with a crush. 

“I hope things go well,” Hayden adds sincerely. “It will be nice having you much closer.”

“No need to lie, Hayden. My ego can handle it,” Ilya replies. Shane knows him enough to hear the joking lilt to his otherwise serious-sounding timbre. 

“I wasn’t lying!” Hayden takes the bait and Shane covers his laugh with his hands, not wanting to ruin Ilya’s fun entirely. “Shane will be really happy having you closer!”

“It just means more time for us to hang out together, yes, Pike? Me and you?” Ilya playful antagonizes.

“Fuck you,” Hayden laughs, pointing his now empty beer bottle at him as an accusation. “You suck.”

“More Ilya-Temples and WWE fights with your children.”

“I swear the more time you spend with Ruby the more like you she becomes.”

“She is my favorite,” Ilya admits, though between the three of them and Jackie this isn’t a secret. Ilya and Ruby have a bond that can only be forged through chaos and anarchy.

“You’re fucked, Hayden,” Shane says. “Just wait until she asks to be Ilya again for Halloween.”

“Do you know how long it took me to convince her to just be a zombie hockey player instead?!” Hayden bellows while Ilya laughs maniacally. “In the end she kept telling everyone she was Zombie Uncle Ilya. Thanks to the fucking jersey you sent.”

“I never got a thank you card for that,” Ilya points out.

They shake off their laughter and Shane once again thanks Hayden for allowing him and Ilya to step into their family holiday. After saying their goodbyes, which take far longer than expected because all of the children that are still there need to say goodbye to Ilya one at a time, they head home together.

Stuffed and happy, they quickly rinse off in the shower and get into bed facing each other. 

“Tonight was fun, yeah?” Shane says again, because he just can’t believe that this was real. That he could have a holiday like this and be welcomed into another family and have Ilya by his side the entire time.

“My babushka used to say something when we all got together. My mother’s mother. Anytime the whole family got together, she’d say in Russian moya chasha perepolnena. My cup is very full, it overflows.”

“My cup runneth over,” Shane whispers back. He isn’t familiar with which book or even which religion it’s from, but he knows it’s Biblical and has heard the phrase a few times before.

“Yes, that. And I feel that tonight. My cup is overflowing. I think I understand what she meant when she said that.”

“Hmm?” 

“I just feel so good right now, in my brain,” Ilya replies. “And maybe it has been a while since I have felt that way.”

“Ilya?” Shane asks, concern tainting his voice.

“Nothing for you to be worried about, malysh. I’ve just been…struggling a bit.”

“Are you okay?” Shane runs his hand through Ilya’s hair, comforting him and making sure that physical connection is there between them to help Ilya open up instead of freezing up.

“Yes. It’s nothing major, I promise. Galina knows and I’m still on my medicine. Just stressed.” He takes a breath and along with it a few moments to think. Shane waits it out. “Still not having a contract for the Centaurs, and everything happening with you and your family… I am just feeling really refreshed right now, knowing we have people in our corner.”

Shane leans forward and kisses Ilya softly, hoping to soothe any hurt Ilya may be feeling.

“What’s going on?” Shane asks, worried he has been missing something important.

Ilya shakes his head, leans it against Shane’s shoulder.

“Please?” Shane asks. “I want to help you like you’ve helped me.”

Ilya doesn’t say anything for a few moments, but Shane knows to wait it out. Ilya tends to need time to gather his thoughts and prepare for vulnerability.

“I haven’t been liking myself very much lately.”

“But you’re amazing,” Shane says automatically, voice tinged with confusion. How could Ilya not see in himself what Shane sees? 

“Everyone thinks I’m a piece of shit. My family, your family. Even Hayden and JJ only just came around to me. I keep trying to not believe it, but…” He shrugs again, refuses to look up at Shane. 

“Ilya…” Shane breathes. He wants to force Ilya to look at him, but he’s afraid it might make Ilya stop talking. Instead, he leans against the headboard of their bed and maneuvers Ilya partially on top of him, so his head is lying against Shane’s chest.

“It makes me wonder if you’d be better off without me,” Ilya eventually whispers dryly. No tears, no emotion. 

“What?” Shane asks, confused and alarmed. This is not a thought that Shane can easily comprehend. 

“Maybe you and your parents would still be close if we weren’t together.”

“That’s not true,” Shane is quick to interject. “My shit with my parents is – it isn’t because of you, it’s because of them. And I wouldn’t be better off without you. Fuck, Ilya, you are my best fucking friend. You are my favorite person. You are so giving, not just to me but to all your friends, your team, literally everyone you spend time with. You make me want to be the best I can be, because that’s what you deserve.”

Ilya burrows in deeper, sniffs.

“It doesn’t matter, anyway. You know me, I’m selfish,” he tries to joke, but his voice falls flat. “I wouldn’t ever let you go even if I could.”

Shane won’t entertain Ilya’s self-deprecating talk. He runs his hands through Ilya’s hair and hopes it helps him to relax.

“You’re the most selfless person I know,” Shane says simply, doubling down. “You make me feel loved, and I never thought I would ever get that. And I’m never letting you go either.”

“Yeah?” Ilya asks.

“I’m sorry I haven’t stood up for you like I should to my parents. But I promise I’ll do better, okay?” Tears start falling down Shane’s face, but he won’t stop holding Ilya to wipe them away.

“This is a me issue. My stupid fucking brain,” Ilya replies. “I promise. And I’m working through it. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You can talk to me about this stuff. I’ll listen,” Shane offers.

Ilya just nods. So Shane continues speaking.

“You deserve happiness, too, you know. You tell me all the time that I deserve happiness and a family who loves me and people in my corner. You deserve that, too, Ilya.”

He moves his hand to Ilya’s cheek, using his thumb to wipe away a tear that drops, and Ilya wraps his hand around Shane’s wrist, keeping them tied close together. Then Ilya starts to cry.

“I’ve got you,” Shane adds, and he lets Ilya fall apart a bit, relieved that he is finally in a place where he can support Ilya just like Ilya has supported him all these months.

When Shane was seven he had a babysitter, Monica, who was really into all different forms of arts and crafts. He thinks now that she may have been a high schooler who lived in the neighborhood, but at the time she just seemed like a cool grownup whose hair changed colors and styles every few months.

She’d bring over boondoggle lanyard strings and she taught him how to do a box stitch and a twist stitch and even a zipper stitch. He was so incredibly slow, and she did most of the work for him, but he made little keychains for his friends while they talked about Pokémon and Transformers and which Power Ranger was the coolest.

She taught him how to braid and also how to bead string, and together they’d make friendship bracelets that he would wear until they fell off and they’d have to make new ones. They would tie dye clothes in the summer, finger paint on rainy days, do elaborate face paint designs on each other just for fun, and make real snow cones in the winter with snow they’d collect from his backyard and whatever insane science experiment concoction flavoring he and Monica would cook up on a random Saturday night while his parents went out on a date.

He had Monica for one glorious year until she mysteriously stopped showing up. He was sad about it for a while, but quickly got over it as new babysitters came and his memory of her faded.

He doesn’t know why recently Monica has come to mind again, that is until he remembers an interaction with a fan earlier that fall. Shane was doing a meet and greet at a local hockey clinic set up by the MLH. He visited the U11 team, chatting with kids and coaches and signing memorabilia. He remembers a tough looking kid coming up and introducing himself as Eddie, shaking Shane’s hand with a level of initiative Shane isn’t sure he’s ever seen out of a ten year old. 

“Why are your nails painted?” Eddie asked him.

Shane looked down at his hand, startled, before realizing he still had some chipped red nail polish on a few of his fingers from when he let Hayden’s twin daughters paint them a few days ago to help keep them occupied at a golf outing they got dragged to. 

“My nieces painted them,” he explained.

“I didn’t know boys could have painted nails,” Eddie said with something akin to awe in his voice. 

Shane wished Ilya were there at that moment, because he knew that Ilya would be able to respond better. He’d seen him dismantle gender stereotypes easily and with little forethought in that effortless and cool way that only Ilya could embody. In that moment he tried to summon the courage he knew Ilya would have.

“I think boys can do whatever they want,” he replied.

Eddie nodded ferociously, as if anything Shane said was scripture. “Yes, I think so, too!”

Shane signed some stuff for him and moved on, but something about that moment stuck with him.

It took him a few nights of restless sleep for the connection to solidify in his brain, and even then the memories were hazy.

He had wisps of flashbacks of snowy days watching a movie while Monica painted his fingernails blue. Of sitting at his kitchen table coloring while his parents talked to Monica in hushed voices about how boys shouldn’t have their nails painted. He vaguely remembered telling Monica the next time he saw her that maybe they should just paint his toenails so that his parents wouldn’t see it. His childish brain thought that his parents would never see his toenails, but the memories of their disappointed faces after finding out later that night when he got into his pajamas and they read him a book, slowly came back to Shane. Of course they’d see his toenails.

Meeting Eddie brought back these memories, but they were vague enough that he couldn’t quite recall what was true and what was maybe made up or imagined. All he knew for sure was that one day before leaving Monica hugged him and said “keep being you, Shane, and don’t ever change,” and then she never came back again and his parents wouldn’t answer his questions about her.

Ilya is flying out of Montreal later tonight – the day after Christmas – because he needs to be in Boston bright and early on December 27th. But waking up to Ilya’s arm sprawled over Shane’s chest and his breath dusting Shane’s neck is the perfect endcap to a great few days. It’s also a reminder of what he will be gaining soon – in just about six months – when he and Ilya are able to live together and share space together in Ottawa far more often than they can now.

He dreams of a house halfway between Ottawa and Montreal, with small apartments in each city for the days when they need to be closer to their training facilities. They can meet in the middle most nights, a mere hour’s drive for each of them, and share a bed and a room and a kitchen and a yard. 

He thinks of inviting Hayden and JJ over to hang out, having Rose come to visit, being able to hang pictures on the wall of him and Ilya and not having to be worried about who might find them. He thinks of being out, in every sense of the word, and finds that he’s less scared about it now than he was even six months ago. 

“Morning,” Ilya whispers, pulling Shane tighter. “I missed you.”

“I was here all night,” Shane replies snarkily.

“Yes, but we were sleeping. Very hard to talk and hang out when we are asleep.” Ilya peppers kisses on Shane’s neck, and Shane shivers, his body instantly responding to the stimulation.

“Don’t start something you don’t have time to finish,” he warns Ilya.

“We have like twelve hours,” Ilya says, rolling his body entirely onto Shane’s for only a moment before rolling off the bed, onto his feet, and walking to the bathroom. “Plenty of time for me to finish.”

Shane lugs himself out of bed, adjusts himself in his boxers, and brushes his teeth for exactly two minutes, being sure to scrub his tongue and the roof of his mouth, before dragging Ilya back to bed and having his way with him. 

It is the perfect way to wake up and, Shane decides, another new tradition for them: post-Christmas morning blow jobs.

They’re doing laundry together, folding clean clothes, and slowly packing Ilya’s suitcase when Shane hears his front door open. 

“Hello?” Ilya says, cautiously walking towards the front entrance, holding out a hand to Shane so he’d stay put.

“Oh, Ilya! Surprised to see you still here,” comes Yuna’s fake chipper voice. David follows behind her, several large bags in tow,  and they remove their shoes and enter the apartment fully.

“What are you doing here?” Shane says, stuck to the floor where he’s standing a few feet behind Ilya.

“We said we’d do lunch the day after Christmas,” his mother replies, walking straight past Ilya and towards Shane to give him a hug.

Shane does something he has never once done in his life: he takes a step back from his mother.

“No we didn’t,” he says firmly, still confused but feeling very much like his peace has been broken and his castle has been taken under siege.

“We texted about it.” His mother stops in her tracks, her face painted with bafflement as if Shane is the one acting weird here.

“No, you asked if we could do lunch. I never responded.” Because Shane didn’t. He didn’t respond. He didn’t want to. He wanted this to go away without having to face it, because it was only a few days ago that his mom sprung a potential lunch on him and he just didn’t want to do it. He doesn’t want to see her, or see his father. He doesn’t want them in his house. He doesn’t want to do this right now.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” his dad says as he walks into the kitchen, placing a few bags on the counter. “We brought leftovers from yesterday. All your favorite food. I’m sure we have more than enough for Ilya.”

Shane thinks that’s what pushes him over the edge; the mere mention that there might be enough food for his partner, who his parents knew was in town, and who has been here the whole time. The notion that Shane is being ridiculous because he’s upset that his parents barged into his house, broke the peaceful serenity he was feeling, and once again found a way to make Ilya feel like he’s the intruder, has Shane seeing colors.

He doesn’t think before he speaks.

“Get out,” he says. He walks towards Ilya, desperately seeking not only to comfort him, but to use him as a source of strength. He only stops when they’re side by side, arms touching.

“Shane!” his mother exclaims, quite literally placing her hand over her heart in shock and offense. It’s one of the most ridiculous looks Shane has seen on her, and it bolsters him to continue pushing back.

Shane feels Ilya grab his hand, and Shane holds on for dear life.

Gabriel has spoken to Shane about a potential head on collision between him and his parents; what it might look like, why it might happen, and how Shane might react. And as the weeks wore on and his parents refused to step towards growth and progress, Shane started believing this just might happen. One day. In the future. Probably in a few years though. Because he was sure once Ilya was in Ottawa that things would change and they’d realize how serious his relationship was. Especially as Shane has been working to institute boundaries, he assumed his parents would interpret it as him maturing and becoming a full fledged adult, and as a result start respecting him and his relationship more.

Instead, ice cold water has been poured over him, and Shane feels like he has gained a new perspective. His parents won’t magically accept Ilya, and whatever boundaries Shane has instituted haven’t been respected. He bolsters himself, a newfound confidence helping him square his shoulders, and decides today is the day he demands to be listened to.

Shane squeezes Ilya’s hand, lets go, and takes a step forward. 

“You need to go,” he says. “I did not invite you here, Ilya and I have plans, and today just isn’t a good day to get together. I’m sorry you had to drive all the way out here, but…” and he waves his hand in a vague gesture, hoping to convey that this – them showing up unannounced, walking into his house without warning, and treating his boyfriend poorly – isn’t okay.

“Surely we could just eat lunch together,” his father adds. “It really isn’t a big deal, Shane.”

“It’s a big deal to me,” Shane says, and he’s proud that he’s been able to keep his voice steady and calm so far. “If you had texted you were coming, I’d have told you not to. So I’m sorry, but you both have to go.”

What Shane expects to happen is for his parents to leave in a slightly dramatic, albeit mostly calm, huff while expressing their deep disappointment in him, follow it up with a few passive aggressive text messages blaming this on Ilya, and for it to eventually be swept under the rug.

Instead, his mom crosses her arms and sizes Shane up in a way that has him wanting to crawl into his own body and shrivel in place.

“No,” she says. “I’m not leaving. I didn’t get to spend Christmas with my son, and I’m not okay with that.”

Ilya moves towards Shane, likely to provide support and be a united front, but Shane doesn’t let him. Shane moves to stand in front of him again – he needs to meet his mom one-on-one, and he wants to protect Ilya from her. This is his battle to fight, and all he needs is Ilya near him as a quiet supporter. 

“Mom,” Shane says, a warning in his tone. “I don’t want this to turn into a thing. I am more than happy to have lunch with you and dad another time. But please, today is not a good day for us.”

“Why don’t we all calm down and I’ll warm up some food–” his dad begins.

“No, David,” Yuna starts, voice icy with poison. “I think we need to talk now. Shane, if you don’t feel comfortable bringing your boyfriend around your family, then maybe that’s an issue.”

Shane laughs a terribly cold laugh. “You have this completely wrong,” he manages to say, his voice only escalating a tiny bit. “I have no problem bringing Ilya around you, I have a problem bringing you around Ilya!”

“Shane,” Ilya starts, calmly, this time stepping forward and not letting Shane move. He puts a hand on Shane’s shoulder, a steady and grounding force. “We don’t have to do this now. We can just eat lunch,” he says close to Shane’s ear, composed and clearly trying to talk Shane down from possibly blowing up his whole life. Shane sees Ilya’s body language – he sees how relaxed it might look to an outsider, but Shane knows Ilya. He knows Ilya’s body and mannerisms intimately. He knows that when Ilya is stressed he holds tension in certain parts of his body but not others. He knows that when Ilya is worried about Shane he will try to de-escalate, keeping himself as soft and pliant as he can so that Shane can work to mimic his stance and his breathing. He knows that right now Ilya is trying to protect Shane and be a team player and just go with the flow. Not because Ilya is a go-with-the-flow, anti-confrontational person. He’s not. Shane is. 

Shane sees that Ilya is trying to embody Shane as a way of helping him. But today Shane doesn’t want to back down, he doesn’t want to go with the flow, and he does not want to avoid confrontation. His parents came to his and Ilya’s house, walked in without an invite and without warning, are shit talking his boyfriend, and are making demands of Shane. Ilya has never cowered from a fight, and it’s hitting Shane that for the last year and a half he has had to watch Ilya change his entire being to fit into a mold that Shane’s parents might find more palatable. He’s endured over a year of being ignored, quietly demeaned, and purposefully forgotten, and he’s said nothing to Shane about it until last night. He’s stood by Shane’s side while Shane continues to try and repair and grow his relationship with his parents, offering more support than maybe he should have. He’s never told Shane what to do in response to his parents, never thrown down an ultimatum, and always let Shane lead the way. 

He deprioritized his own mental health to put Shane’s ahead of his own, admitting to Shane that things have been difficult and stressful for him recently. That Shane’s parents have made him question his worth.

This ends today, Shane decides. Today his parents accept that Shane is a grown adult in a relationship with Ilya. There is no or else. 

“No,” Shane says again, but he doesn’t shake off Ilya’s hand from his shoulder. He uses it as an anchor, he uses it for energy and force. He uses that connection to siphon some of Ilya’s confrontational attitude, his sureness, and his ability to not fold in the face of others. “Mom, dad, I know that there have been some issues since I came out, between all of us. I’m done pretending that’s not the case, okay? I need you to understand that I’m not okay with how you’ve been treating Ilya.”

“How we’ve been treating Ilya?!” His mom gasps. “We feed him, we go to his games, we spend time with him–”

“– you constantly tell me I should date someone else!” Shane explodes, throwing both his hands in the air. 

“Shane,” his father says, his voice is tight and unpleasant to hear. “We just think you could be happier, that’s all.”

“Happier?!” Shane asks. “Happier?! How would you know how happy I am?! You’re never here! You never spend time with us! We barely even talk on the phone anymore, dad.” 

He walks towards his parents, and Ilya scuffles behind him making sure there’s very little distance between the two of them. 

The fight has officially migrated towards the kitchen, and Shane begins pacing while his parents stand and watch.

“We see you with him all the time. He sits there quietly, he says very little–”

“Cause you treat him like shit, mom!”

“Don’t talk to your mother like that,” David interjects, suddenly sounding firm and angry in a way he almost never does.

“Like what? I’m just telling the truth.” Shane stops pacing and hangs near Ilya by the breakfast nook, creating some physical space between him and his parents. 

“I worked so hard to get you to where you are now, and recently you’ve been throwing it all away,” his mom says. Calmness has returned to her voice in a way that doesn’t relax Shane, but instead raises his hackles. His mom has this ability to remain calm in the face of a storm so that afterwards she can claim she was the victim.

“Throwing what away? I am happy, mom, and I’m working my ass off!”

“You could be the greatest hockey player that’s ever played, Shane.”

“So?” 

“You just need to get your head on straight–”

“– Jesus fucking Christ,” Shane replies, running his hand through his hair and turning around in a full circle once because he just feels like he can’t stay still. “I swear to god if you say anything about me being gay–”

“You don’t even know if you are gay! Two years ago you were dating a woman!”

“I cannot believe this, mom. Are you serious? You think I’m, what, faking liking men?”

“I didn’t say that,” she backtracks. 

“Yes you did.”

“You were so happy–”

“I wasn’t fucking happy!” He explodes again. This time he doesn’t think he can calm down. He’s crying silently, tears falling down his cheeks as he waves his hands in the air. “I was fucking miserable! I was stuck in a relationship I wasn’t happy in, I was playing shit hockey, and I woke up every morning hating myself! Why can’t you see that?!”

Ilya places a hand on Shane’s back, between his shoulder blades, but it doesn’t do anything to make Shane relax. He’s clenching his fists so hard that there are nail marks in his palms, and the pain anchors him to the moment.

“I don’t understand why you keep wanting me to be something other than I am.” Shane runs a hand under his nose, and it comes away wet. He sniffs loudly, swallows his phlegm.

“What if you don’t know what you are?” his father asks.

“I’m almost fucking thirty!” Shane yells. “I know exactly who I am.”

“You could still–” his mom interjects, and Shane doesn’t care anymore. He can’t. He needs them to hear him.

“You wanna know how fucking depressed I was with Rose? With every girl I’ve been with, mom? You want to hear how I couldn’t fucking get hard for them? How miserable I was every time we had sex? Well guess what, mom! I’m a fucking fag. I take it up the ass! And I fucking like it, too!”

He’s screaming and Ilya is physically holding him back from exploding forward. Shane’s eyes are puffy and his face is wet, and he can’t take deep breaths. 

“Shane,” Ilya says softly, an arm now wrapped around Shane’s waist.

“And you think that’s okay?!” he wails, trying to step closer to his parents, but Ilya won’t let him go. “You think they were happy in those relationships? It wasn’t fucking fair to them, mom! I wasn’t fucking kind to them. I didn’t want to be with them! I didn’t find them attractive, I didn’t want to touch them! You want me to live a lie? For them to live a lie?!”

“Shane, sweetie,” Ilya says, continuing to pull him back. “Take a deep breath.”

His parents say nothing, they just look at him scandalized. His dad’s jaw is wide open, his mom’s is tensely closed, her lips pursed and her eyes staring daggers at him. She looks so incredibly uncomfortable. 

“I don’t want you here,” Shane sobs. “Please just leave me alone.”

And he completely breaks down. He loses every last ounce of composure and he falls back against Ilya.

“I think you should leave now,” Ilya says firmly, tightening his arms around Shane.

Shane doesn’t know what happens next, when his parents leave or how long it takes, because he can’t stop crying against Ilya’s chest. When Ilya tries to move them from the kitchen he won’t budge, and Ilya quickly takes the hint and stays put.

He keeps mumbling what Ilya might think are incoherent sentences, but to Shane are every last feeling he has.

I don’t understand, he says, thinking how it could have ever gotten this bad with his parents

I tried so hard, he says, thinking about how he wanted to be the perfect son.

I thought they loved me, he mutters, because he really thought love was all you need for a relationship to work out.

They want me to live a lie, he says, because he finally realizes that this must be what they want from him.

It wouldn’t be fair, not to them, he says, thinking of Rose and how awful sex was for the both of them, thinking of Jessica who Shane almost threw up on when he tried to go down on her the first and only time, thinking of every woman he has ever tried to force himself to like as more than just a friend. Forcing them to live a lie without their knowledge and be with him when he was never going to be able to love them like they deserve made him feel like a shitty fucking person. He couldn’t do that to them. He couldn’t ruin their lives because he was too afraid of accepting his own.

Ilya holds him and runs a hand through his hair and lets Shane cry and mumble and keeps saying “I know” and “It’s okay” and “I’ve got you,” over and over again until Shane finally feels like he can breathe without breaking down and Ilya literally carries him to the couch, his hands strong under Shane’s thighs. 

“I’m sorry,” Shane says.

“Don’t,” Ilya says sternly. “No apologies. We just hold each other, okay?”

Shane nods and lets Ilya curl around him, his leg over Shane’s and his nose against Shane’s neck and his heart beating against Shane’s back. Shane tries to time his breathing with Ilya’s, but it’s hard because he’s still crying a little bit. He feels really fucking awful, not just emotionally, but physically, like he just lost a fight to Ryan Price. 

He eventually falls asleep, though he’s not sure for how long, and when he wakes up it’s with a startle.

“Shit, Ilya,” he says sitting up so quickly he nearly loses his balance, which ultimately forces Ilya awake.

“Wha?” he groans from behind him.

“We have to go! Your flight! What time is it?” He pats his pants but he doesn’t have his phone on him. It’s a bit darker outside, so he thinks the sun may be setting. His eyes feel crusty and swollen, his head is absolutely killing him, and he’s a little bit nauseous. He feels like he just woke up out of a deep but completely unrestful sleep, like the worst naps of all time make you feel.

“Shane, Shane, lay back down,” Ilya says, grabbing Shane’s shoulder and trying to pull him down.

“No, we have to get you back,” Shane tries again, going to stand up again.

Ilya pulls his arm more firmly, and Shane falls to the couch in a seated position. Ilya sits up next to him.

“I cancelled my flight.”

“What?” Shane replies, confused and disoriented still.

“I’m not going back to Boston tonight, okay?” Ilya kisses Shane’s shoulder and keeps rubbing his back.

“But don’t you have a game tomorrow?” Shane still doesn’t really understand what’s going on. There’s a pressure point above his left eye, and it pulses with pain every time someone talks. He can’t stop wincing, but the movement makes it worse. And his mouth feels like cotton and his throat hurts a bit from the screaming and crying. 

“I took the day off. A few days, actually.”

“Huh?” Shane says. For some reason it’s really hard to process things right now.

Ilya kisses his cheek and moves to sit on the coffee table so he can face Shane directly, who is still sitting on the edge of the couch.

“I took a few days off. I’m allowed to, it’s fine. It’s already taken care of. I will go back in a few days, okay? For now I’m going to stay here and we are going to figure out everything together.”

“But I have to work?” Shane says, or asks, he’s not really sure. He still doesn’t quite understand what’s happening. He shakes his head, trying to clear it but wincing in pain at the movement, and looks into Ilya’s eyes. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just…tired.”

Ilya cups Shane’s cheek. 

“You can decide for yourself if you need to take time off or not. I just know that I need to be here right now, with you. Okay?”

Shane nods, a fresh bout of tears falling down his face.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’ve got you, okay? I’m here. This just means we get to spend some extra time together, yes?”

Shane nods, placing his hand around Ilya’s wrist and leaning into his touch against his cheek.

“I’m sorry today was so fucked up.”

“Shane, you are the bravest person I have ever met. The strongest. I am so in awe of you, okay?”

Shane cries some more, louder than before, and he wishes he could just turn it off like a lightswitch, but his body and his emotions don’t feel like they’re under his control right now.

“What do you need, malysh?” 

“To brush my teeth. Maybe shower.”

“Food?” Ilya asks, and Shane realizes that they haven’t eaten since breakfast. After a moment spent assessing his body, he decides that he’s feeling too unwell to stomach any food.

“I think I just want to take a sleeping pill and go to sleep.”

Ilya nods and pulls Shane towards him for a hug. 

“We will get through this,” he says.

And Shane believes him. He really does. Because he has to. 

Chapter End Notes

This entire story started because of a daydream I had in which Yuna and David were low-key homophobic and unwilling to accept Shane's sexual orientation and relationship with Ilya, and where Shane had an all out fight with his mom, having to yell bluntly at her using a slur to identify himself just to get her to finally get through her thick skull that he's gay. That thought morphed into this entire story. I hope you can all see where Shane was coming from, how his anger hit its peak, and how totally at the end of his rope he had to be to finally understand that his parents were not committed to growing, learning, or embracing Shane for who he is.

I don't believe that abusive or manipulative relationships should have to get to this point before boundaries are set, but I do believe that Shane needed it to get this bad before he could realize the truth before him. Everyone is different, and this is just how I interpreted Shane's journey in this particular story.

The story, however, does not end here...

Massive thank you to whoever posted this story on the HR fanfic Reddit <3. And thank you to everyone who took a chance on this little WIP and took the time to leave a comment or two.

Chapter 7

Chapter Notes

Is this the way a toy feels when its batteries run dry?

–Guernica

The next thirty-two hours are a blur for Shane. He takes a sleeping pill that first night and doesn’t wake up for ten hours. When he does, he still feels like shit, but this time with added grogginess.

He doesn’t show up for practice, but it isn’t a conscious choice to skip it. He just can’t get out of bed. He hears Ilya on the phone at one point, and he’s not entirely sure who he’s talking to, but he hears Ilya saying, “Shane’s really ill right now. No, no, I’m staying in town a few days to help him. Like, super sick yeah. No, no, doctor says it isn’t contagious. Okay, I will. Thanks. Bye.”

Shane rolls over and closes his eyes again.

Ilya brings toast and broth and even a banana at one point. He keeps a warm mug of ginger and lemon tea next to Shane’s side of the bed, which Shane never touches but Ilya refills anyway. Shane chokes down the banana and sips at the broth, but he really just isn’t hungry.

He has no recollection of going to get his phone, but it’s plugged in next to his bed anyway. He doesn’t really want to touch it, but he needs some distraction to keep himself from spiraling about yesterday. He doesn’t want to get up, but he can’t sleep anymore, and he can’t focus enough to read or do anything productive. Even the living room feels too unattainable. In the end he settles for turning on the TV in his room – which is rarely used – and putting on a thirty-minute sitcom that can just make noise in the background for the next few hours while he tries to get his bearings together.

Ilya comes in and out of the room throughout the day, spending time laying in bed with Shane and occasionally talking to him about nothing major, and getting up and doing something in other rooms in the house. Shane doesn’t ask and he doesn’t really care.

“I’m thirsty,” he says the next time Ilya comes in, his voice hoarse. He has no idea what time it is but he’s becoming restless and thinks he might be ready to shake his cocoon.

Ilya beelines it out of the room again and comes back with more fresh tea, ice water with a lemon wedge in it, and a cold ginger ale.

Shane smiles, lips tweaking up a bit. “You know,” he says, “I think I could actually go for an Ilya-Temple.”

Ilya laughs and leans down to kiss Shane.

“I’ll be back,” he says.

Shane does not have food dye in his house, so Ilya tells him he poured in a little bit of the fresh pomegranate juice that Shane sometimes uses for smoothies into a cup of seltzer. 

“What time is it?” he asks Ilya after chugging half the glass, loathe to grab his phone for fear of seeing any notifications. He isn’t quite ready to face the real world.

“Almost eight.”

“At night?” Shane confirms, slightly alarmed. He really did just waste the day away.

Ilya nods. “You should probably eat something, if you think you can?”

Shane drags himself up so he’s sitting off the side of the bed. “I think I’ve bedrotted enough. Do we still have soup?”

Ilya nods, and Shane makes his way to the bathroom to freshen up before meeting him back in the kitchen. Shane tries not to label it “the scene of the crime.” He doesn’t want to forever associate this room with that fight and the things he said and the way he felt. 

He notices the apartment looks cleaner. All of the food his parents had left in the kitchen has disappeared, there are no dishes in the sink, and there’s a bunch of folded laundry in the living room from yesterday waiting to be put away. There’s broken down boxes by the entryway that Shane recognizes from a grocery store delivery service; Ilya must have had stuff delivered. Their Christmas gifts have been organized and put away or placed off to the side of the living room, the trash and recycling have been taken out, and Shane notices that things just look more picked up.

“How are you feeling? Ilya asks, placing a bowl of steaming soup in front of Shane. Shane thinks it might be chicken noodle but doesn’t ask. He doesn’t care. Ilya grabs a banana, peanut butter, and some granola and eats that at the table with him.

“Like shit,” Shane replies. “In every possible way.”

Ilya nods but doesn’t interject, and Shane swallows a few spoonfuls of soup.

“There’s a lot going on in my head, and I think I’m having a hard time organizing it all.”

“Want to make an emergency appointment with your therapist?”

Shane contemplates it. “I probably should, I guess? I think I see him in a few days anyway though, so I don’t know.” He puts his spoon down and runs his hand over his face a few times. “I just feel, like, every emotion all at once right now.”

“Want to talk about it? Or we could not talk about it,” Ilya offers.

“Ugh.” Shane pushes the bowl away and drops his head in his arms for a bit. Ilya rubs at his neck, squeezing every so often, until Shane sits up again and leans back in his chair, half-eaten bowl of soup forgotten.

“We need to change these locks. Like immediately. To the cottage, too.” 

Ilya nods attentively.

“And…I think…I think I need to find a way to fire my mom, and that freaks me out. She’s the only manager I’ve ever had, but I can’t work with her anymore. I can’t do it, Ilya.”

“I know, I know, babe.”

“I just feel so guilty. Because my parents are going to lose their primary income. She’s literally the breadwinner. She gets quarterly bonuses which is literally just a way for me to throw money at them that she’ll accept. And she’s gonna hate me for this. Once I do this there’s no going back,” he says, the tears coming again at the thought of losing his parents from his life. His throat constricts and it just feels so raw. He hates not being able to control his emotions. He hates crying.

Ilya just rubs up and down Shane’s arm from his spot sitting caddy corner to Shane, and looks on in distress but doesn’t interrupt or offer false platitudes. 

“I know I’m going to have to talk to them, too, eventually. And I don’t want to. I have no idea what the next step is. Like, am I supposed to wait for them to apologize? Or are they over in Ottawa waiting for me to apologize? Cause I have nothing to apologize for, Ilya.”

“I know.”

“Fuck,” Shane exhales. “And now I’m missing hockey because of it. And you’re missing hockey because of it.”

“Don’t blame yourself for my choice, Shane. We are a team, right? We’re in this together.”

“I love you,” Shane says. He leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to Ilya’s lips. “So much,” he whispers against them.

“What can I do?” Ilya asks.

“How much longer are you here? I’m sorry I forget already.”

“I said I’d be back no later than the crack of dawn on New Year’s Eve, but I can extend it if I need to.”

“No, that’s perfect. I think I also will probably try and do the same.”

“They’re probably expecting it. Hayden called when you no-showed to practice, and I told him you were sick. Your team was calling a bunch – I didn’t answer, but I texted Farah from my phone saying you weren’t feeling well, maybe had the flu. I sort of panicked. She said she’d reach out to the team.”

“Thank you.” 

Ilya kisses him again. 

“We can do this, okay? Whatever you need, just tell me.”

Shane nods, their heads connected at the forehead, and decides that starting tonight he needs to pull himself together. For Ilya’s sake and for his own. They can do this.

Since everyone thinks that Shane is sick, he decides he can avoid his phone for one more night.

Ilya suggests they watch a movie together, but Shane doesn’t want to lie around doing nothing anymore. He did that already – it’s out of his system. 

He asks Ilya to open his Macbook and get rid of any text notifications from his parents, and he does it before Shane can even finish asking. Then Shane spends an hour researching the top two options he’s found for changing his locks. He settles on one and shares it with Ilya, who says he will purchase it tomorrow and call a locksmith and make sure that someone gets it installed as soon as possible on both the Montreal apartment and the cottage. 

He then starts composing a draft to send to Farah, asking if she can recommend any managers to oversee his brand deals. He states that he isn’t looking to change his image and he wants to continue his relationships with the premium brands, but he’s interested in seeing what other options are out there for managers. He phrases it as something he is just looking into, and asks for fidelity in regards to his request. Tomorrow he will have Ilya look it over before he sends it.

It’s coming up on midnight, but he isn’t done yet.  His brain is working on overdrive and he wants to be able to wake up tomorrow and know he can just be with Ilya and not worry about a To Do List.

He emails Gabriel’s front office and asks if there’s any way to extend his upcoming session with Gabriel by an hour, or if there are any additional appointments that week that he can take. He states that he is taking a few days off work and can be flexible with the timing, but that he believes this additional meeting is necessary. Ilya suggests he make it clear that he is not a threat to himself or others, so Shane reworks his email to make sure he gets his point across accurately.

He contemplates shooting Hayden a message, but Ilya reminds him that it’s almost 1:00am and not only will Hayden be asleep, but Hayden likely expects Shane to be asleep as he is under the impression Shane is sick.

“This can wait until tomorrow, no? Come, let’s go to bed.”

“One more thing,” Shane replies. He shoots off an email to one of his lawyers, the one he has been working with to get the Irina Foundation off the ground.

Put Project: Irina Foundation creation in overdrive, he writes. I want this Foundation launched by summer if possible. Fall at the latest. I’ll put together a job description for Executive Director and Vice President and send it to you next week. Planning on going in a different direction than having my family run it. You’re the best, Jeremy, and thanks for your patience while I figured out how I wanted to run this Foundation. Hope you enjoyed your holidays!

He’s tired of waiting around. 

“Okay, ready,” he says to Ilya, closing his laptop and getting up. 

Shane is mentally exhausted but not very tired. For a brief moment he contemplates taking another sleeping pill, but he really doesn’t want to. He feels much more in control of himself and his emotions right now and doesn’t feel like he needs to shut the world out. He lets Ilya guide him to the shower, which is perfunctory but still sensual as Ilya washes his body and hair, does a shortened skin care routine,takes some melatonin, and decides to read a little bit before bed. Ilya curls up next to him and falls asleep quickly, paying no mind to the bedside light Shane has on, and within an hour Shane finds himself nodding off, too.

Ilya leaves a few days later and Shane promises him that he is fine and that they will remain in close contact. He takes an early morning flight, kisses Shane goodbye before the crack of dawn – at Shane’s request – and Ubers to the airport. Shane dozes for another two hours before waking up, getting back into his morning workout routine, and heading to the stadium for gameday. 

His teammates greet him jovially and ask how he’s feeling, everyone except Hobart and Drapeau who walk past him like he’s not there. He catches up with the guys he likes, asking about their holiday breaks, checking in regarding one of his teammates whose wife apparently just gave birth yesterday, and then he hits up PT for some stretching before pre-game practice begins. 

When he’s getting into his practice uniform Hayden comes up to him.

“You okay, bro? Feeling better?”

Shane nods. “Yeah. Long story. Catch up later?”

“Yeah,” Hayden replies.

“I’ll text you.” They pound fists, finish getting laced up, and head out into the ice.

They lose 3-2, but Shane plays well enough that he doesn’t feel terribly bad about it. Though there is a low level of frustration humming under his skin from Hobart rolling his eyes at him throughout the game any time Shane tried to talk to him about gameplay.

He rushes through post-game media, explaining that his absence was sickness related but he’s back to feeling 100%, and heads home where he calls Ilya just so he can hear his voice.

“You're still meeting with Gabriel tomorrow, yeah?” Ilya asks.

“Yeah. We moved it to a double session in the morning.”

“If you need to talk afterwards, let me know. I’ll make time.”

His and Ilya’s schedules do not match up at all for the next two weeks, especially as Shane is about to head out onto the road in early January right when Ilya is flying to Ottawa to meet with the Centaurs.

They chat a little longer and Shane says goodbye so he can do some light stretching and mindfulness meditation before bed. After the fight with his parents, he finally picked up the journal he never really used consistently and decided he might as well start now. Tonight he writes in it for only the fifth or sixth time. It’s not fun, but he thinks that Gabriel might be right that it is actually helpful.

The next morning Shane wakes up at his regular time, goes for his normal morning jog but sticks to the treadmill this time, and spends some time on his rowing machine before cooling down. He needs to be at his computer before 7:30am so he can talk with Gabriel, who Shane has a feeling may have started his workday earlier at Shane’s request. He’s never seen, during scheduling, an appointment time earlier than 9:00am.

He’s nervous, he realizes as his leg shakes. He doesn’t know the protocol about emergency therapy meetings, and he’s anxious that Gabriel might think he’s overreacting about what happened. Ilya told him that it’s not a big deal to need extra support, but all Shane can think about is how when other people, like Ilya, need extra support it’s probably because of serious depression or suicidal thoughts. 

Shane just had a really bad fight with his parents.

Stop downplaying what happened, he thinks to himself, repeating what Ilya has told him countless times over the last week.

Gabriel immediately does check in on Shane’s mental health status and safety, but they quickly move on to other things when it’s determined that Shane is not in any danger. Shane gives Gabriel a breakdown of what happened the day after Christmas and all of the things he has done since then to create healthy boundaries for his piece of mind.

“And I also started writing in my journal more frequently,” Shane says, holding it up as if that confirms he’s done the assignments like a good student.

“Have you found it helpful?” Gabriel asks.

“I think. It’s still probably too early to tell, but I do know that taking the time to hand write my thoughts has been good for giving me the ability to slow down and think about what happened and how I feel about it. It has helped me organize my thoughts. I sort of also put together like, a To Do List in my journal, so I can track my progress on all the things I want to get done, like having the locks changed and finding a new manager. Which is what I really want to talk about.”

“About finding a new manager?”

“I will have to like, actually fire my mother. Terminate her contract. I spoke to my lawyer about something else, sort of related actually, but not,” Shane rambles. “It doesn’t matter. Anyway, I need to reach out to him again and figure out how I can even do this legally. I’m nervous about retribution.”

“What do you think retaliation might look like from your mother?”

Shane sighs. “Huh. I haven’t thought too deeply about it. Primarily my fear has been our relationship – her pulling away, maybe it ending with us being no contact, losing my parents. But I’m also thinking that she might take it public, and I’m definitely scared about that. I don’t want it to cause a scene.”

“When you say public, do you mean public within your social circles or public within the media?”

“Definitely the media. If there’s any way for her to like, sue me for wrongful termination or something and it gets messy, then it will get out to the media. And I don’t like my personal life being out there like that. I know people say don’t become an athlete if you can’t handle the scrutiny and all that, but my family drama isn’t anyone’s business.”

“That would be very overwhelming, I can imagine. Would your mother out you to the media?”

Shane’s eyebrows raised immediately. “I haven’t even thought of that. I don’t know. I…I don’t think so, no. But I guess even if she doesn’t personally out me, if this whole situation does end up in the media then it puts me in a position where I’m not sure I’d be able to stay closeted.”

“How so?” Gabriel asks.

“I guess if things get messy and I feel like I need to defend myself, I’d want to defend myself with the truth. And we – Ilya and me – have been talking about coming out soon. If Ilya does sign with the Centaurs he says he wants to come out as bisexual to them pretty quickly. And my teammates…well, you already know that they sort of know and some of them aren’t too pleased, but it’s the rest of the world knowing that maybe scares me more than the hockey world knowing.”

“I want to make sure I’m following, so please let me know if I have misspoken. It sounds like your primary concern is the complications that could come with finding a new manager that is not your mother. Those complications are, in no particular order, losing your relationship with your parents entirely, ending up in a legal battle with them, and feeling like you have to officially come out not just to your team but to the world at large.”

“Yes,” Shane confirms. “All of that. Or being outed against my will. And when I think about this all it makes me realize how far away I am from happiness.”

“How so?”

“It’s like this hill that I have to climb, and on the other side is this happy life, but getting there is like trekking to Mt. Doom. I have all this shit that I need to do and get through, and things need to all fall in place perfectly before I can just be happy.”

“What does being happy mean to you in this scenario?”

“Being closer to Ilya. Like literally. Living together, him in Ottawa and us coming out to more people in our circle. Being able to play hockey and not deal with any of this outside bullshit. The Irina Foundation being launched. Ideally it would have also been having a good relationship with my parents, but now I think my happiness is maybe not so dependent on that as I once thought.”

“What changed with that?”

“I really don’t think they will ever accept me for who I am, or accept that I’m in a relationship with Ilya. And that’s not going to change. I want to marry him and have kids with him, and I can’t keep slowing my life down for other people. I kept thinking, after they showed up but before the fight really started, that I would stand my ground and they would come around. I didn’t even stop to think that there was an alternative – that our relationship could just end, that they don’t have to come around. Maybe I have spent so much of the last year and a half catering to them when I shouldn’t have. Rigid thinking and all that, like you’ve mentioned.”

“Lets talk about that,” Gabriel says. “How you have felt like you’ve slowed your life down for others instead of prioritizing yourself and your needs.”

They do a few exercises, Shane shares some more, and he puts together a plan to reach out to Hayden and JJ so that he can have a little more support right now. It’s been hard realizing that he isn’t perfect and needs to ask for help sometimes, but if there ever was a time when he needed his friends in his corner, it’s now.

Later that day he gets a call from Farah.

“Hey, do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Shane says. He’s in the middle of packing for his road trip, using the new luggage that Ilya bought him. He pops an Airpod into his left year and continues folding his clothes.

“Remember that new HR policy you signed a while back?”

Shane doesn’t. Not really.

“Sure,” he replies, stuffing a packing cube with socks and underwear. 

“I was going over it, what with The Irina Foundation making progress on launching, and I didn’t know if you realize the potential implications…”

“Implications of what?” Shane asks, nervous.

“I think you should talk it over with the lawyers. They’ll know better. It doesn’t seem like the biggest issue, but…your mom didn’t mention anything?”

Shane sits on the edge of his bed, his stomach pooling with dread.

“Mention what?”

“Well, and like I said, it might not even be a big deal…” Farah rambles. Shane sighs deeply and squeezes the bridge of his nose. “It just seems that the new HR policy has some fraternization prohibitions, and some public appearance and social media phrases that make me think you’d have to separate The Irina Foundation from all things associated with Metros.”

“In what way?” Shane feels so over his head with this. 

“It’s a lot of HR jargon. But I’m particularly concerned with the phrase ‘Players must avoid conduct, statements, relationships, or associations that could negatively affect the reputation of The Montreal Metros.’ It’s incredibly broad, which is why I think you should bring it up with your lawyers, but it concerns me that you starting a foundation with Ilya could…” she drifts off.

Shane nods, thinks, nods some more, sits in silence. He thinks, but doesn’t say, This could also affect me coming out and being in a relationship with Ilya. But he’s read over the MLH Collective Bargaining Agreement, and he knows that sexual orientation was protected in 2013. Women’s professional sports leagues seem to have very little issue with players dating players. This situation is all just another headache.

He asks Farah where in the handbook this phrasing is, writes it down on the Notes app on his phone, and makes a calendar appointment in his phone for later that night to remind him to look over it.

“Do you think we wouldn’t be able to start The Irina Foundation?” he asks.

“No, no, I don’t think so. I honestly don’t really know. I was hoping you’d have some answers…” Farah sounds so incredibly ill-at-ease. “It sounds more like you’d have to be careful how you market it. Making sure to not associate it with the Metros or the Raiders, making sure that any time you spend with the Foundation doesn’t take away from your time on the team. But I’m sure the lawyers can be more specific in their analysis.”

Shane doesn’t understand how his mother couldn’t have caught this. Immediately he understands that this is something she had to have purposefully overlooked. Yuna goes through everything related to Shane’s career with a fine toothed comb. He can’t believe that she accidentally forgot to mention something like this. He won’t believe that – not anymore. Not with all that has happened recently.

This is another thing his mom was supposed to have his back on that she didn’t. Yuna was going to lead The Irina Foundation – she had to be aware of any forks in the road like this, especially as she was the one who told him to sign off on that HR handbook update. She was supposed to tell him these things, not hide them from him.

“Is this something that might affect Ilya as well?”

“No,” Farah says. “I spoke to him already, looked over the Raiders HR handbook, and they have nothing as open ended there. This seems mostly like a Metros thing. But again, other players have outside affiliations with organizations and foundations and the like.”

“You don’t think they will go after me about being gay, right?” Shane asks. “Me and Ilya being in a relationship?”

“No,” Farah says with far more certainty. “Sexual orientation is completely protected under non-discrimination. They’d have a hell of a lawsuit on them if they tried to retaliate for that on paper. But if you haven’t let your lawyers know about you and Ilya, now might be the time to bring it up. See if they can offer legal advice.”

Shane nods and mutters, “Yeah.” The vibrations of his bouncing leg against the bed can be felt through his whole body, and he’s biting the nail of his thumb, deep in anxiety. Cool, he thinks. I have to get legal advice about my fucking relationship.

“My hope is this isn’t going to impact anything, and we are worrying over nothing,” Farah continues rambling. “I–I honestly thought your mother would have told you this. I just wanted to keep you informed.” She sounds very uncomfortable.

One more thing on his plate. One more thing his mother did that wasn’t in Shane’s best interest. She’d been dragging her feet about helping him start The Irina Foundation, and he can’t help but think that there may have been a reason why. That she maybe never intended for it to come to fruition.

“Thanks Farah,” he exhales. “I’ll call my lawyer.”

Shane’s on a tear with hockey, feeling newly focused on being the best player he can be. 

Montreal plays a home game on New Year’s Eve, and he, Hayden, and JJ decide to get together at Hayden’s place after to celebrate. Shane is shocked that JJ says yes to this; he’s normally out on the town during New Year’s Eve, finding some exclusive bar or club to spend the evening with a group of his childhood friends. Hayden is far more laid back now that he has kids and typically spends the night with Jackie and the kids at home or at a neighborhood party.

But tonight they gather at Hayden’s, and Jackie takes the kids to her parents for most of the night.

“She’ll be back later,” Hayden says after he and JJ arrive. “They’re doing a fake ball drop over YouTube and then she said she’ll bring them back around 10:00 so we can shuffle them into bed.”

They play some video games, drink some beer (though Shane switches to cans of seltzer after his second IPA), and just relax together. JJ is onto a new girl, named Eileen, and Shane can’t help but chirp him a bit.

“What’s with your obsession with girls whose first name starts with E?”

“Fuck you,” JJ says, pushing Shane’s controller out of his hand. 

“Three’s a trend.” Shane smiles. It's all in good fun.

“You’re just jealous you can’t pull like I can.”

“He literally pulled the number one draft pick, asshole.” Hayden says, pushing JJ’s shoulder hard enough for JJ to fall sideways. 

“And held onto him for years,” Shane adds. “He kept coming back for more.”

Shane wiggles his eyebrows and JJ howls. 

“Hey, Eileen and I are going strong and steady.”

“What, for the three weeks you’ve known her?” Hayden says.

Controllers forgotten, their little gathering descends in playful chaos while they rag each other and roughhouse for a bit. Shane extricates himself when it turns into Hayden trying to wet willy him.

“So Ruby learned it from you, huh?” he says standing over Hayden and JJ.

“She gave you a wet willy?” Hayden asks, standing and offering a hand to JJ to pull him up.

“She gave Ilya one, at Christmas.”

“That’s my girl!” Hayden yells, pumping his arms in the air.

Just then his phone rings and it’s Jackie saying she’s pulling into the neighborhood and would like help carrying the half asleep kids inside. JJ and Shane round up to help, and it ends up being quick work getting everyone in bed. 

Jackie grabs the baby monitor that still watches over baby Amber while she sleeps and they all head into the basement to hang out. They each take a spot on the L-shaped couch, with Hayden and Jackie taking the shorter end, relaxing into each other. 

“So how are things?” Jackie asks no one in particular, looking between JJ and Shane.

JJ turns to Shane. “Any updates on your parents?”

“What happened with your parents?” Jackie asks.

Shane turns to Hayden whose hands are both raised in a “I didn’t do it” way. 

“I haven’t told her anything about that,” Hayden says.

“Hayd,” Shane replies, touched. He never expected Hayden to keep it from Jackie and momentarily feels bad that Hayden thought he had to. He turns towards Jackie. “We’re sort not talking right now.”

“Not talking?” Jackie asks, placing her wine on the table beside her and leaning forward, giving Shane her full attention.

“Yeah,” Shane says awkwardly. “Things are sort of really bad between us at the moment.”

Jackie must sense the tension because she looks in between Hayden, JJ, and Shane looking a bit bewildered.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want. I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“No. No, you didn’t. I’m just not used to talking about this stuff out loud I guess. Uhm, we got into a really big fight the day after Christmas, and since then I’ve been ignoring their texts and calls.”

“Shit,” Hayden says. Shane hasn’t yet updated him on what went down.

“Are they still homophobic?” JJ asks.

Shane plays with the string on his hoodie and steels himself for what he knows will be a long and tough conversation. But it’s one he thinks he needs to have. He needs people in his corner, and the three of them have done nothing but love and accept him recently. 

“Yeah, they are. And they’re still being really shitty to Ilya. They just showed up to my place the day after Christmas, barged in without warning, and it ended up in a screaming match.”

“Shane,” Jackie says, voice laden with concern. “I’m so sorry. What the fuck has been happening with them?”

“They really can’t handle that I’m an adult. I think that’s it, to be honest. I’m making my own choices and it’s different than what they want for me. I don’t know. It’s just really bad. I’m actually talking to my lawyer right now about trying to fire my mom as my manager.”

“What?!” 

“You serious?!”

“Holy shit.”

They all say at the same time. A cacophony of voices interlacing with surprise.

“Yup,” Shane says, taking a sip of his seltzer and leaning back against the end of the couch. He pulls his hood up as he reclines, bending his legs so they don’t hit JJ.

“Fuck, Shane,” Jackie says. “I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve that. No parent should treat their kid that way.”

“Thanks,” he says, not sure what else he can say. There is validation, though, in their reactions. A reminder that he isn’t blowing this out of proportion, that others think it’s just as fucked up a situation as he does. 

“What does this mean for Ilya?” Hayden asks, placing his hand on Jackie’s thigh.

“What about him?” 

“Isn’t your whole plan that he will move to Ottawa?”

“Yeah,” Shane says. “So?”

“Well,” Hayden looks at JJ then back at Shane. “I mean…wasn’t the whole point of him being in Ottawa so you would be close to your family?”

Shane furrows his eyebrows, a little lost as to what Hayden is alluding to. “Yeah?” 

“Why would he want to be close to your parents if they’re dicks to him?” JJ says bluntly, metaphorically leading Shane to water. 

“I mean, he wants to be close to me,” Shane states.

“Sure, but…I mean, the Centaurs suck. He was only coming to them because he’d be near you and your family. But if you’re no contact with them then does he really need to be in Ottawa?” JJ asks.

“I’m confused,” Shane replies. “He isn’t going to Ottawa to be close to my parents. It’s so we can be closer to each other.”

“I think,” Jackie interjects, speaking slowly like she’s approaching a baby deer, “there are other options available, Shane, for you and Ilya to be geographically close to each other, that don’t involve putting you both closer to your parents.”

Oh, Shane thinks. Holy shit. It’s a lot to think about. 

Shane bites the end of his hoodie string. “Maybe you’re right. Ilya’s not been doing well lately, I don’t think. Just stressed,” he’s quick to add, not wanting to out Ilya’s depression to his friends. “But you’re right. Him being closer to my parents would probably not be great for anyone’s happiness. He meets with the Centaurs in a few days, though. I guess I’ll see how that goes. I think he might be too far into the process for anything to change.”

They all sit there with that information for a moment, no one saying anything, until Jackie breaks the silence.

“We’re here for you, if you need to talk or vent or need a distraction. About anything. Not just Ilya, but also everything with your parents.”

“Thanks, Jackie. I appreciate it.” He checks the time on his phone. “It’s almost midnight, though. Let’s turn the ball drop on so we can watch it and then go to bed.”

Hayden laughs and grabs the remote, and with only fifteen minutes left until the new year Shane excuses himself to call Ilya somewhere a bit more private.

“How’s your night?” Shane asks Ilya after he picks up.

“Would be better if I were with you.”

“Hopefully next year.”

“Definitely next year,” Ilya replies. “You enjoying your time with Hayden and JJ?”

“Yeah. Jackie’s here, too. It’s been nice. I was able to talk with them about some of the shit going on.”

“Yeah?”

“It was good. They’re all waiting for the ball to drop. I stepped out for a second. Where did you end up tonight?”

“Went out for a bit, to a club.”

“Where are you now? It’s quiet.”

“Back at the hotel. I knew you’d call.”

Shane smiles, warmth spreading in his chest. “I wish you were here right now.”

“Me too, malysh. Soon though. I’ll come out to Montreal when I have a free day.”

“I can come to you, too.”

“We will figure something out.”

Shane can hear the countdown from the other room, and he waits until zero hits to say “I love you” to Ilya.

“I just want you to know that this year…I’m done letting people in my life treat you like shit, okay?” Shane pushes it out, keeps his voice steady, and tries to imbue honesty and regret and finality into his voice. He wants Ilya to know he heard him, he’s listened, he knows how much Ilya has been hurting. 

“What?” Ilya asks, sounding confused.

“I’m sorry I ever let it happen in the first place, and I shouldn’t have. Especially with my parents. I love you so much, and I fucked up. Okay?” Shane won’t stand by anymore when people defame Ilya. He can’t. 

Ilya lets out a breath and doesn’t say anything for a moment. Shane wishes he could see Ilya’s face, wishes he could hold him.

“Okay,” Ilya says, voice sounding a bit unsteady. “Thank you.”

They talk a little bit longer before Shane has to go to spend a few minutes with his friends before heading home himself.

It was, in fact, a good night. 

Ilya leaves for Ottawa the first full week of January, and he’s able to take two full days there where he talks to the Centaurs management and tours two houses in the surrounding area with their real estate agent. There’s a house outside the city, closer to being equidistant from Ottawa and Montreal, that he does not get the chance to see, but he texts Shane pictures and videos and shares his thoughts on the ones he does. There’s a bit of relief, for Shane, that things are still moving forward for him and Ilya.

Shane’s parents have texted him, altogether, probably a dozen times since the incident. 

Shane has ignored them all, along with the four voicemails and even the Instagram message his mother sent.

He only accidentally sees the first few words of a couple texts and they all seem to be different variations of “Shane please call” or “Shane, can you pl…” or “We need to tal….”

He asked Ilya to look over what was sent before he left Montreal, and Ilya told him there wasn’t a real apology or an olive branch, so Shane decided he just wasn’t in the right frame of mind to read them himself. He’s been ignoring anything new that’s come in since then.

He plays hockey, and he plays well. He spends time with his teammates and even surprises them by agreeing to go out with them one night after a particularly grueling and hard fought victory.

Comeau announces in the locker room that everyone will gather at La Voute later that night, and a few teammates near Shane talk about what time they’ll meet there.

“You coming?” Harleson asks Shane.

And he decides why not. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

It draws more than a few surprised looks and comments, especially from the guys in the Bible Study group. In the end he doesn’t regret going, though there is an awkward moment between him and Comeau. Comeau keeps commenting on hot women, assigning them numbers out of ten for how hot they are and trying to dance with anyone who scores over an 8.1. He tries to get Shane to participate, but Shane ignores each attempt.

A teammate, Harleson, who was traded to Montreal that season and who also isn’t participating in Comeau’s weird game tells Comeau, “Stop ragging him. We all know he’s got a girl in Boston. And it’s a gross game anyway.”

Comeau snorts. “Sure, a girl. Boston Lily, right? You and Hunter, I swear…”

Shane smiles tight lipped, not loving any attention on his lovelife or the reference to Scott Hunter – the only openly gay player in the league. He refuses to rise to Comeau’s bait though. Harleson looks back and forth between the two of them as the awkward silence settles.

The moment passes quickly, and Shane ends up talking with Harleson for a while. They’ve never really chatted much before this, and he ends up really liking the guy and the slightly silly Norwegian lilt to his voice. 

He heads home earlier than most, but is not the first to leave, and he passes out fairly quickly after sending a text to Ilya that he got home safely.

Shane continues with his virtual therapy sessions, and keeps talking to his lawyer about fast tracking the Irina Foundation and ensuring he can fire his mother without any serious repercussions. On a virtual meeting with both Shane and Ilya, Jeremy assures Shane that if The Metros try to go after him for violating the HR handbook in regards to the work that The Irina Foundation is doing that his team of lawyers will be on that and fight back extensively. He promises to help guide Shane in what he is legally allowed to do when talking about The Irina Foundation to the media, and suggests that Shane create online social media accounts under his own name so that his only accounts aren’t ones directly associated with The Metros. This will allow him to post more freely about things outside his career as an MLH player.

He assures Shane and Ilya that any retaliation from the Metros over Shane’s sexual orientation or relationship with Ilya will be met with his team’s full legal force. 

Regarding firing his mother, the news isn’t as positive. Unfortunately, because it’s his mother and he never had a reason not to trust her, Shane never had her sign an NDA. The thought never crossed his mind to do so. She’s been managing him since he was a teenager; when and why would he have handed her an NDA? As a result, there really is no way to ensure that she won’t go talking to the press or make a statement online if provoked. 

It’s a bit of a mess, to be honest, and it’s what’s causing Shane the most stress currently. He isn’t talking to his mom, but she’s still his manager, and he has brand deals he is behind on and paperwork he needs to sign and meetings he needs to take.

After getting thirty-two emails from her that he never opened, he finally asks Ilya if he wouldn’t mind going through them to see if any were business related. Turns out a significant amount of them are, and Shane and Ilya develop a plan:

Ilya will read all of Yuna’s emails first and let Shane know if they’re safe for him to read. Anything business related is something he will look over, but anything related to their fight or his sexuality or relationship he asks Ilya to put into a newly created folder that Ilya names “Dead Dove, Do Not Eat.” It makes Shane laugh when he sees it, reminding him of the time he and Ilya watched Arrested Development over the course of a few months while on the road. It gave them something to talk about and was a way to stay connected when they weren’t able to see each other regularly.

Occasionally a business email does include a plea for Shane to call or text, but Shane can handle that because Ilya warns him first. He responds to the emails only if he needs to, and usually it’s just to confirm that he is okay with the proposed time for a meeting, that he understands the requirements of a brand or advertising deal, or to confirm that he has signed a contract she sent over to him.

He shares nothing personal. He asks no personal questions.

He is actively working with Farah to find a replacement manager that is up to Shane’s unusually high bar, but there isn’t a major rush, not after the newest blow to Shane’s plan to fire his mom.

Canada does not have at-will employment, so there needs to be a cause to fire his mom. In writing. With proof. Ilya is working tirelessly behind the scenes to screenshot every email, every text message, even the voicemails to send to Shane’s lawyer.

The care and time that Ilya is taking to do this touches Shane deeply. 

“I feel like I should be doing it,” he says to Ilya one night over video.

“But I don’t mind helping.”

“Yeah, but how many of those messages are shit talking you? It’s just fucked up that I can’t handle my own shit and I’m making you do it for me.”

“You aren’t making me do it, Shanya,” Ilya says firmly. “I offered. And your mom can talk shit on me as much as she wants. It doesn’t affect me.”

Shane doesn’t know how true that is, but he decides to take Ilya at face value nonetheless. 

“Just say, Thank you, Ilya,” Ilya mocks lightly.

“Thank you, Ilya,” Shane mimics, and he can’t stop himself from smiling a little.

“Not to take the conversation in a completely different direction, but I got some news about my contract.” Ilya looks away from the camera and is fiddling with something off screen, a sign that he is uncomfortable and trying to play it cool.

“What’s that?” Shane asks, keeping his voice calm. Ilya responds so well to touch when he’s nervous and uncomfortable, and Shane wishes they could be together right now so he could provide that physical anchor point for him. It’s something Ilya has been working on in therapy, though, and he’s gotten so much better at opening up when they’re far apart. It’s helped to make their long distance relationship continue to improve.

“The Raiders countered their offer,” he says. 

When the Centaurs offer became official the other week, Ilya’s team looked it over and compared it to other offers on the table. Ilya wasn’t entertaining other offers, but he and Shane knew that Ilya had to pretend to care because no one on his team outside of Farah knew the real reason for his move. Plus, it’s hard to not want to know what other teams want you and for how much. Normally that leverage helps you negotiate better deals.

“Yeah?” Shane replies, not wanting to push Ilya too hard into opening up.

“It’s uh, good. The Centaurs haven’t countered yet, and have apparently been remaining mum. Not taking calls from Farah or answering any emails from anyone else. And there’s some pushback from my management team as a whole, outside of Farah.”

“About what?” 

“Citizenship stuff. I don’t want to talk about it though.”

That does not sound good.

“Are you okay?” Shane asks.

“Just nervous. I still think it will work out. I have their original offer. But Boston has just been being pushy.”

“Pushy how?”

“Making it clear they want to re-sign me. Management keeps saying they’ll sign me to whatever length of a contract I want. I’m trying to not say anything, but it’s just been really stressful every time I show up or they call.”

“I’m sorry,” Shane says, and he’s suddenly overcome with guilt. Something JJ said on New Year’s Eve runs through his head suddenly: If Ilya was was only moving to Ottawa to be close to Shane and his family, but Shane is no contact with them and in the process of firing his mom and really creating a clusterfuck of distance between them, then does Ilya really need to move to Ottawa?

He feels sick thinking that, but he can’t say anything to Ilya. He can’t let on that he’s spiraling.

“We can get through it, okay?” he says instead, throat closing just a bit as he fights through the emotions to keep his voice as steady as he can. “We can figure something out.”

“Okay,” Ilya replies.

After they hang up Shane pulls out his therapy journal and writes his thoughts down. He feels so overwhelmed that everything they were working towards isn’t playing out like it should. He feels frustrated that he may have pushed Ilya to do something he shouldn’t be doing, and that it might end up fucking Ilya most of all if he ends up alone in Ottawa, so close to Shane’s parents, and on a team that hasn’t had a winning season in years. He’s angry that he worked so hard to create this multistep plan that now likely needs to be scrapped and rewritten. And he feels scared that everything he has been fighting to have with Ilya – a home base, no more long distance, widespread support – is likely to be pushed off even farther.

He feels like he just can’t catch a break. It’s so unfair. And those feelings make Shane spiral even more, because he hates feeling sorry for himself. He just wants one win. One win. But he isn’t even sure he’s going to get that.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you to everyone who reads this story, leaves a kudos, and gives a comment. I have read and appreciated literally every comment, no matter how small or detailed. Especially those who have taken the time to comment on each chapter. I am starting to recognize your usernames, and it's always fun to hear from you!

Hope this newest chapter didn't disappoint! Shane is really going through it and working hard to take ownership of his life and set boundaries. It's all a learning curve for him, but he's getting there.

Regarding the HR policy:
Holy shit, all of your thoughts and predictions about that were so fun to read! And made me feel really guilty about the truth of it. I had actually done some research into what would be a red flag in an HR policy (and spoke with my friend who does HR) because I wanted to make this aspect as realistic as possible (aka a team can't tell you who you can or cannot date. Not legally).

It was my intention to highlight 1. That the Metros have some shady shit in their HR policy, and 2. That Yuna knew all along there may be complications with the HR policy and Shane starting The Irina Foundation with Ilya, and she chose to not tell this to Shane and not speak to lawyers about it. She decided to hide it, because she never had any intention of helping Shane actually start The Irina Foundation. It's just another indicator that Yuna has not had Shane's best interest at heart all this time.

This is another drop in the bucket -- something seemingly small but when taken with all the other drops in the bucket adds up -- showing that Yuna does not care what Shane actually wants for himself. She has her own ideas of what Shane *should* want and that is what she is pushing for instead. I hope I didn't let too many people down with how it played out!

Chapter 8

Chapter Notes

But can I get myself out from underneath this guilt that will crush me?

–Limousine

January slugs on, and along with the plummeting of Shane’s mental health comes a disruption in his play. He feels like he just can’t connect with the puck and his teammates right now. Nothing catastrophic is happening on the ice, but he’s missing shots he’d normally make, he feels like he’s slowed down, his body hurts, and he isn’t sure that hockey, which was once the thing that brought him the most joy, is really an escape anymore.

Frankly, it sort of actually feels like the root of all his problems.

Hockey might be how he met Ilya, but it’s also the reason they feel like they can’t come out.

Hockey brought him and his mom together, creating a bond that only grew throughout the years. It also tore them apart. He thought that with how poorly his mother treated him and Ilya, and how much stress it brought him when they were talking, that going no contact would be a relief. It’s not. It’s fucking hard. He misses his mom. He misses her hockey analyses, her biting humor, her uncanny sixth sense. He misses hearing her voice, going out to lunch, and cracking jokes together. 

Hockey gave him a friend group, but it’s also what made him feel so isolated and alone when he realized his sexuality and how it really doesn’t fit into the league. He hears what everyone says about Scott Hunter in his own locker room, and not even Hayden or JJ can get them to shut up. He turns his back on the comments made about him, the Bible verses texted to the team group chat, the prayer sessions before hitting the ice each game, and all the times gay, fag, and cocksucker get thrown around with ease. 

He can’t help but feel let down by the one thing that was always supposed to be there for him, come hell or high water.

Gabriel asks Shane if he thinks he might be depressed, and Shane snorts.

“Of course I’m fucking depressed. My life is literally falling apart.”

Gabriel doesn’t appreciate that snide remark, but Shane can’t even be bothered to care. It was  stupid question, he feels. 

“Have you been able to open up to anyone about this?”

Shane thinks that Ilya probably knows. He has to. But he’s never actually said it out loud to him. Hayden and JJ have picked up on it. A few weeks ago he was playing some of his best hockey of the season, and now he can’t muster up any excitement for it. They see him often enough, and they’ve noticed him flagging in practice, commenting on how quiet he’s been lately and consistently trying to get him to hang out with them. He’s been saying no a lot lately, the allure of his apartment far too inviting.

“No. Not really. But I play Ilya in a week, so I will tell him then.”

“Why not tell him before that?”

“Cause I don’t want to.” It feels like a good enough reason as any. 

It’s not a very productive session, Shane thinks, and he’s happy when it’s finally over. 

With anger bubbling under his skin, he takes to his gym and lets it out on the punching bag, but it doesn’t work. He’s now angry and energized, and he comes dangerously close to wreaking havoc on his surroundings. He punches erratically, no longer able to focus on his form. He punches more when the tears come, harder and harder until he can’t see anymore and his breathing becomes irregular.

He slumps to the floor, leaning his head in his hands and weeping. Every emotion just feels like too much.

His phone buzzes with a text message alert, and he hopes to God it’s Ilya when he picks it up. It’s not. It’s his mom sending one of her daily text messages that always go unanswered.

And Shane does something he knows he shouldn’t do, but he just fucking misses his mom. He desperately aches for a hug from her, for her to say that everything will be okay.

He calls her.

She answers frantically, chanting his name like a prayer.

“Shane? Shane? Baby. Are you there?”

He can’t stop crying and he can’t be quiet about it. 

“Shane, baby, I love you. Okay? I love you.”

He so deeply wants to believe that she will change. Hearing her voice just makes him more upset though, because it’s just as soft and tender as he needs it to be. But he can’t help but feel it's a false luster. After everything she has said and done, he doesn’t believe that she will actually change. Especially not with what Ilya has shared has been in some of her emails and voicemails to him.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. Sorry he called, sorry he couldn’t be the son she wanted him to be, sorry that they’re in this situation. And, most of all, sorry that it won’t get better.

He hangs up and sobs some more, kicks at his water bottle, bangs his head against the wall behind him. Now he feels even worse than he did before. When he realizes he can’t calm down, he pulls his phone out again. His mom keeps calling him back again and again, but Shane ignores them. This time he calls Ilya. Ilya, who should be at practice right now because he doesn’t have a rest day today. Ilya, whose phone should be on silent or Do Not Disturb.

And he answers.

“Malysh?” Shane hears him say. 

It lets loose a new wave of bawling. 

“Shane, Shane. Hey. Shane!”

But he can’t stop. He seriously cannot stop. He feels fucking broken.

“Shane, I need you to breathe with me, okay? You’re having panic attack or something. Just breathe. Deep breaths.”

Shane tries. He really does. Something just feels fractured inside of him. 

“I can’t,” he chokes out.

“Yes, you can. Just breathe, okay. You can do this. Deep breaths, solnyshko. I’ll talk you through it, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Ilya keeps talking to him, his soft and reassuring voice wavering only slightly with worry as he coaches Shane through some breathing exercises. Eventually Shane is able to calm down enough that he’s only hiccupping the occasional cry. 

“You’re okay, yeah?”

Shane nods, realizes that Ilya can’t see him, and verbally hums an agreement.

“I can fly out today, Shane. I can be there.”

“No, no, I’m okay.”

“You’re not fucking okay, Shane.”

“I know,” Shane says, and he is so fucking tired of crying. “I think I’m depressed.”

“No shit,” Ilya squawks.

Shane can’t help it – he laughs. A deep belly laugh erupts from him, though it’s wet and might sound more like a combination of a sob and a chuckle.

“Asshole,” he says, but he’s smiling.

“Please, babe, let me come.”

“I see you soon anyway. I’ll be in Boston next week.”

“One day. I can fly out today. Earliest flight. Or fuck it, I’ll drive. I’ll leave now and I’ll be there in time for dinner.”

“When would you go back?”

“Never,” Ilya replies.

“Unfortunately impossible,” Shane murmurs, picking at some fuzz on his gym shorts.

“I come tonight, skip my morning obligations tomorrow and drive straight to the game.”

“Your team will kill you, Ilya.”

“They won’t. Trust me.”

And Shane knows he must be seriously feeling like shit because he acquiesces. He says yes. He takes what he needs and refuses to feel guilty about it. He trusts Ilya.

“Yes,” he says. “Please come.”

After they hang up – which Ilya doesn’t want to do, saying that they can talk during his entire drive – Shane manages to pull himself upstairs to get changed. He opts for a deodorant shower even though he knows he’s a hot mess, but his limbs feel like jelly and he just wants to lie down.

He remembers, thankfully, before falling asleep that his apartment’s locks were changed the other week while he was on a road trip. He messages Ilya reminding him, even though Ilya is the one who made the appointment, paid the invoice, and set up the code and app for Shane.

Shane wanted to do it himself, but his brain was so fuzzy and his schedule so packed and his decision fatigue was through the roof. 

Ilya thumbs up the text, and Shane falls asleep knowing that when he wakes up Ilya will almost be there.

Shane is in the kitchen, sitting at the nook, when Ilya quietly walks in and toes his shoes off. 

Shane practically runs to him, wrapping his arms around Ilya before he can even take his jacket off.

“Hey, hey,” Ilya says, concern lacing his voice.

“I’m okay,” Shane says. “I just missed you.”

He doesn’t want to let go, but he knows that he eventually has to so Ilya can take his coat off and fully come in.

“No bag?” Shane comments.

“I ran home for my passport and nothing else. I have stuff here,” he shrugs. It makes sense, as he won’t be in Canada for even twenty-four hours.

“I have meal prep stuff,” Shane offers. “And I’m sure there’s shit in my pantry. But we can also do takeout–”

“Meal prep is fine. I don’t even care about food, Shane.” He comes back to Shane and hugs him tight, pushing and manhandling him in the hug backwards towards the couch until he pushes Shane down and collapses on top of him.

“This feels nice,” Shane says. 

“I’ve missed you so much.”

They stay like that for a while, not talking, and Shane lets Ilya’s weight ground him. He thought he might feel weak needing this, but all he feels right now is loved and cared for.

“I fucked up,” he admits.

“Hmm?”

“I called my mom.”

Ilya stills and he lifts his head up slightly so he can look at Shane in the eyes.

“How did that go?”

“I mean, you know how well it went. I called you literally right after hanging up from her.”

“Oh.”

“Also, I’m depressed.” 

“You mentioned,” Ilya says, running his hand comfortingly on Shane’s chest.

“Gabriel says it’s situational. He isn’t concerned or anything. Doesn’t think I need medicine.”

“That makes sense, yeah,” Ilya replies. “Your life has sort of hit the fan recently.”

Shane snorts, appreciative of the succinct way Ilya put it.

“I’m trying to find the positives, but it’s becoming increasingly hard.”

“Maybe there aren’t a ton,” Ilya says. “Not that there aren’t any. But it’s okay for there to only be a few. I don’t know, I just don’t believe that good things always come out of bad things.”

Shane thinks about all the horrible things Ilya has been through, between losing his mother to suicide as a child, having a manipulative father die of dementia, and having an abusive brother who spent years stealing his money – and still is. He doesn’t know what good came out of that for Ilya, and he thinks it’s bullshit to say that resiliency is the silver lining in all of that.

“I think you’re right. And I’m sorry that I’m complaining about all this when you’ve also had a shit life on the parental front.”

“Please don’t compare our situations.” Ilya pulls himself up into a sitting position, dragging Shane with him. “And it isn’t a silver lining, but you do have a group of people in your life who love you. Keep leaning on us, okay?”

Shane nods, tears escaping once again because he just cannot catch a break, and he falls onto Ilya, pushing them back into a lying position. He nuzzles his head against Ilya’s chest and allows himself to be held.

They each shove one of Shane’s frozen meal preps down their throat, shower perfunctorily, and hop into bed. Shane doesn’t know how he could still be tired, but he falls asleep cuddled into Ilya and sleeps through the night.

The next morning they go on a jog together, do a light workout, and Shane is able to force Ilya into an at-home yoga session. He’s been thinking about taking a reformer class, just for shits and giggles because of how much Rose and Jackie talk about it, and he wonders if there’s a future where he and Ilya could do that together.

All they do for the rest of their time together is stay attached at the hip. Shane tries to talk to Ilya about the Centaurs and the Raiders and how things are going, but Ilya quiets him.

“Today’s about you, okay? We’ll talk about me later.”

And again, Shane can tell he must be in a really vulnerable spot because he doesn’t fight Ilya on this. He allows himself to be doted on, he allows Ilya’s touch at all moments of the day, and he doesn’t allow any doubt about his worthiness to creep into his thoughts.

They kiss goodbye outside Ilya’s car, which is parked in the garage spot that Shane purchased for him a long, long time ago. 

“I’ll see you in a week, okay?” Ilya says, his head resting against Shane’s, sharing the air in between them.

“One week.”

They kiss again and Ilya leaves, promising to let Shane know when he’s at the stadium. 

Shane heads to the training center to get in another workout and an ice bath and sauna, and he texts Hayden and asks if he’ll meet him there.

Two hours later they are sitting in the sauna and Shane is apologizing for pulling back since New Year’s.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Hayden says. “Things have been shit for you.”

“I’m so ready for this to all end.”

“Any movement on…well, any of those fronts?”

“None. Boston is being pushy with Ilya. I think they don’t want to let him go.”

Hayden’s quiet for a bit, and it’s unsettling for Shane, the sudden awkwardness.

“I’ve been thinking,” Hayden says hesitantly, “but I’m not really sure how to bring it up.”

“What’s that?”

“I just…I don’t want you to think that this is what I want, okay? It’s only that…I was talking to Jackie, since you said you were okay with her knowing everything. We were wondering, since Ilya is having such a hard time getting to Ottawa, and let’s be real, you’re so unhappy here, Shane.”

“Unhappy where?”

“Or maybe not unhappy. Shit, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to like, tell you what you’re feeling.”

“You gotta spit it out, Hayden. You’re confusing the fuck out of me here.”

“Jackie and I were talking and like, maybe you need a change of scenery. I don’t know if Ilya coming to Ottawa is going to solve your issues. And I’m not saying he shouldn’t come – dude can make his own decisions, okay. But, I guess I was just wondering if like…have you considered moving teams?”

Shane is shocked.

“Leave the Metros?”

“There are a ton of teams that would want you, Shane. And you only have one more season until your free agency. I know it would suck having another year apart from Ilya, but Boston might even take you. Or New York. Scott’s older, might retire kinda soon – who knows. And he says that his team has been amazing about him and Kip. It’s under four hours from Boston, and there are always tons of flights and trains. Even fucking New Jersey, or, or Philly. Under five hours away. I just…we both know the team has been homophobic to you even though you haven’t even come out to them. And if you really do think that you need some space from your parents… I don’t want you to think I don’t want you to stay here. I do, man. I really do. But you’ve just been so unhappy, and it isn’t even only recently. Ever since you came out to your parents two summers ago, you just haven’t been yourself. And it fucking sucks to see.”

Shane needs to consider having his tear ducts glued shut, because they have been working overtime recently and he is not happy about it.

He sniffs, tries to hide it behind a cough, and hopes that the sweat from the sauna disguises the few stray tears that threaten to fall down.

“I didn’t even think that was an option,” he admits. Could he leave the Metros? They signed him, built him into the player he is today, helped him earn two Stanley Cups. It’s his mom’s favorite team. His best fucking friend plays there. He wanted to be a Metro. Nearly his entire life, this was a team he wanted to play for.

Leave Montreal? Leave Canada?

He can’t believe that Hayden, of all people, has been responsible for multiple life altering moments for Shane. He’s not sure Hallmark sells thank you cards for that specifically. But to have Hayden, who was so unhappy about Ilya when he first learned about their relationship, be the one consistently championing them makes Shane feel so supported.

“Don’t limit yourself, man. You deserve to be happy. Maybe you just need to be somewhere else.”

“It would suck not having you close,” Shane confesses.

“Well, according to Jackie and the kids you’ll be doing Christmases with us for the rest of your natural born life if you do end up moving.”

“I think that’s a fair deal.”

“Just promise me you will think about it? I’ll back you no matter what you choose. But…Shane, you are such a fighter. If you want something, you take it. You work hard for it, you earn it. I miss that Shane.”

“Me too,” Shane whispers. He thinks about how much he wanted his parents to accept and love Ilya, how much he fought for that and how hard he pushed for it. He thinks about how much energy he put into getting what he wanted when it was clearly never going to happen, and how many other places he could have placed that mental and emotional energy. He thinks about how he isn’t giving up, he’s just coming to terms with reality and reprioritizing what’s important to him. He thinks that it’s time to fight for himself and put all his energy into that.

Shane nods and leans his head back against the wall, slightly overwhelmed at the new road that’s just been paved ahead of him. But there’s this growing voice in his head that says maybe he should look into this. Maybe he could get traded to an American team and still be close to Boston.

And fuck, maybe Hayden is right and he could end up in Boston one day.

The thought alone sends a chill through Shane’s body, electrifying and enticing and incredibly exciting. Shane knows that when he gets a feeling like this, it’s game on. Nothing can stop him.

Arriving in Boston feels almost like a homecoming to Shane. It has very little to do with the city, though, and more to do with what’s waiting for him there.

He begs off from spending time with his team and heads up to his hotel room, claiming he needs to “settle in.” There are a few hoots and hollers about Boston Lily, but Shane doesn’t have it in him to care and, after cleaning himself out in the empty bathroom, he very quickly races down the stairs and heads out of the side entrance to the hotel so he can grab his Uber to Ilya’s.

“Missed you,” he says, racing towards Ilya at full blast.

His sex drive has been incredibly low lately, and he decides to just lean into the spark he is feeling now. He practically jumps into Ilya’s arms, who huffs out an exerted breath when he’s forced to catch Shane.

“Hello,” Ilya says, also eschewing pleasantries and capturing Shane’s mouth with his own. 

They tumble over the couch but Shane doesn’t allow them to stay there, continuing to push Ilya away from the living room and up the stairs, refusing to take his mouth off Ilya in any way until they are in the bedroom and he has to separate long enough to tear his and Ilya’s clothes off.

“This is a very nice surprise,” Ilya murmurs against Shane’s skin, kissing his way from Shane’s neck down to his pecs, lower and lower until he reaches his belly button and falls to his knees as he licks and nips his way down to Shane’s cock, which is already hard and leaking against his boxer briefs. 

Afterwards Shane feels loose and sated and supremely comfortable. Lying in bed together, still naked with a sheet partially covering them, Shane pulls Ilya into his side, forcing Ilya’s head onto his chest so he can run his hands through Ilya’s curls, and asks a question he’s been curious about since his conversation with Hayden.

“What’s going on with the talks between Boston and Ottawa?”

Ilya buries his face further into Shane and groans.

“It’s so fucking frustrating.” He takes a breath, takes a moment. “Boston countered, and it’s sort of an insane deal.”

“Yeah?” Shane asks, momentarily surprised.

“I’ll send it to you,” Ilya says dismissively, like of course he’d share those intimate details with Shane. “But I’ve been on fucking fire recently,” he smirks, looking up at Shane.

Shane doesn’t deny it. Ilya has been playing insanely well the last two seasons. He put in the time and the effort to make himself the best player he could be, specifically so he could solicit offers from Canadian teams.

Even through all this shit they’ve been going through, Ilya hasn’t slipped in his game.

“Did the Centaurs ever get back to your team?” Shane asks thoughtfully.

“Yeah. They…came back, offered a little more, but I don’t know. It didn’t feel as…I’m just confused, I guess.”

“About what?” Shane asks, still running his hands through Ilya’s curls and down his back in soothing, comforting motions.

“They seemed really fucking into it last year when negotiations started, but recently it just seems super fucking lackluster. And Boston is pushing really hard to keep me. My lawyer is looking over the Centaurs contract and after they approve it, I guess I’ll be able to sign it.”

“You don’t sound too excited about it,” Shane notices.

“I just want this all to be over with,” Ilya admits. “I want to be closer to you.”

Shane’s stomach drops, and he wonders if Ilya has been holding things back from him. He knows he has been picking up extra sessions with Galina and Ilya has told Shane that he’s been feeling really overwhelmed recently. But suddenly Shane is worried that Ilya has maybe been trying to hide things from Shane. Not maliciously, but because of a fear that Shane can’t handle Ilya’s stress.

It makes him a little sick, knowing that Ilya is choosing to sacrifice so much for Shane: his home country, his adopted country, the team that drafted him, the city he loves. All because of Shane. He knows Ilya was really excited about the prospect of moving to the Centaurs last year, but things have really changed for Shane. He thinks they may have also changed for Ilya.

“In a perfect world, would you want to stay in Boston?”

“In a perfect world I wouldn’t have to choose between hockey and you.”

“Okay, but hear me out.” He pulls back from Ilya for a moment, just so he can sit up against the headboard and drag Ilya into a sitting position, Shane’s legs draped over Ilya’s. “What if we didn’t have to choose?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if we scrap the Canada plan?”

“Huh?”

“Canada, you moving here, Ottawa. The whole point was so that we could be closer to each other and to my family. But everything is so fucked, and in all honesty I don’t see things with me and my parents going back to what it was anytime soon. Plus, you being closer to them wouldn’t actually be good for you. Maybe we shouldn’t have put all our eggs in one basket, is what I’m saying.”

“I don’t understand,” Ilya says.

Shane takes a deep breath. “I haven’t looked into it, but my contract is over in a year. What if we scrap the Canada Plan and instead have an American Plan. You have been there for years, you love Boston, and clearly they want you. You’re so close to being able to get Permanent Residency here. And the Centaurs fucking suck, man. You know that. Maybe I don’t need to be in Canada anymore.”

“You want to move to America?

“I want to move closer to you. And maybe there’s a route where I could end up in Boston in a year, but even if not there’s always New York or New Jersey. Even fucking Philly. It all puts me five hours or less from Boston. We could still have a similar plan – find a place in the middle we could easily get to. But even if not, the public transit there is so much better.”

It’s a silly detail. Shane knows Ilya doesn’t give a shit about public transit and wouldn’t willingly choose a train ride if he could fly or drive instead. But Shane would.

“Shane,” Ilya says, and his voice rises in a way that Shane knows is indicative of hope, something Ilya generally is weary of. Because for him hope doesn’t usually play out positively.

“I’m being serious, okay? You love playing in Boston, and the sooner you get Residency somewhere the sooner we can safely come out. And Hayden was saying how accepting New York is with Scott–”

“They literally don’t care. I see Hunter every time I’m in New York. His team even goes to the Kingfisher with him.”

“I could play second line to him for a year or two, we’d be four hours away from each other. And maybe we could start setting things in motion to end up in the same place. If the Raiders are seriously begging you to stay, maybe you have more power to negotiate what you want.”

“Shane,” Ilya says, voice rough with emotion. “Are you serious?”

“And honestly, I could take a paycut. I can make it up in sponsorships and ads, even property management. But if not, it honestly doesn’t matter. I can pretty much live my same lifestyle off a smaller salary. And we’d probably be combining incomes, right? At least at some point, when we’re living together. So–”

Ilya puts both his hands on Shane’s face, encompassing his cheeks and pulling him forward for a kiss.

“I want to be near you,” Shane whispers against Ilya’s lips. “I need to be. Let me do this for you. For us.”

Ilya breaks down, lying on top of Shane and squeezing him, trying hard to hold his tears in but Shane can feel them painting his chest. 

This is all the confirmation that Shane needs. Later, after he has to head back to the hotel for game prep, he shoots off a message to Farah asking for an in-person meeting at her earliest convenience. She has his game schedule and knows when he will be in town, so he accepts the calendar invite she sends immediately. 

Then he reaches out to his lawyer, Jeremy, asking for an in-person meeting as well. If Shane is going to move forward with the America Plan, he needs to be able to get his affairs in order quickly. Particularly firing his mother and replacing her with a new manager. 

There’s no time for Shane to dwell on how he feels about the potential of moving countries – not enough is in place for it to feel anything other than theoretical right now. Yet, there’s an excitement brewing inside him at the potential of moving to a new city, being even an hour closer to Ilya, not having to cross border control to get to him, his parents no longer being able to walk into his house uninvited. Hell, he might not even have to tell them where he lives, which is a whole other mindfuck that Shane’s not quite ready to unpack.

He tells Ilya one more time to seriously consider the Boston offer, to prioritize himself for once.

“I need you to be somewhere that you’ll be happy,” he reminds Ilya. “Long distance sucks, but we have gotten so good at it. We can do one more year if it means we both end up happy.”

Ilya agrees to seriously consider Boston’s offer, and to talk to Galina about the America Plan to help him sort through his emotions about it. Shane also makes him promise to update his best friend, Svetlana, and tell her the new plan and just generally connect with her and use her as someone he can lean on. Svetlana’s hockey knowledge mixed with her fierce love of Ilya will come in handy, Shane thinks, especially if he and Ilya need to do a few more years of long distance. He will need friends he can rely on, too. Plus, Svetlana may have some insights for Shane, as well, as he looks to get on an American team. 

Later, when they’re no longer together, Shane texts Ilya.

Shane: What if she quit her job at the car dealership and became my manager?

He’s only half joking; he really does think Svetlana would make an amazing manager. 

Ilya: lol can i be there when you tell her that? She might claw your eyes out

Shane: maybe she knows someone though? I may want to look for an American manager

Ilya: I’ll ask. But you might actually have better luck talking to some players. Try Hunter. After he came out he became a brand superstar. He’s probably bringing in almost as much as you. Everyone wants to work with the first openly gay hockey player

Shane: I hate that that’s not a bad idea

Ilya: 😜

Ilya: Just be sure to speak loudly. In case his hearing has started to go

Shane: you’re an asshole

Ilya: sorry, i can’t hear you over the sound of me winning

Boston has been on a tear recently. So much so that Shane is actually secretly nervous to face them next time. In their last ten games Boston is 8-1-1 and they’ve outscored their opponents 44-19. They’ve had four shut outs, six straight wins, and are averaging 3.7 goals per game. Ilya himself is outperforming even Shane. In the last ten games he’s had 11 goals to Shane’s 9, 10 assists to Shane’s 7, and 4 power-play goals to Shane’s 2. 

It is beautiful to watch and it really pushes Shane to up his game. How Ilya has been able to manage everything – his depression, their relationship, Shane’s needy emotions, all the shit happening with Shane’s parents, his workout regimen and physical therapy – and still play one of the best seasons of his career is awe inspiring.

Their relationship feels newly revived now that Shane is in a much better headspace. They’re back to being fun and flirty over text, ragging each other about their performances on the ice, having near nightly video sex calls, and even recording themselves at the gym to send to the other to critique and offer suggestions for improvement. 

Shane finally goes back to look at the emails, texts, messages, and voicemails his parents have left, screenshotting and downloading anything that he thinks might bolster his case for terminating his mother, and adds them to the document that Ilya has been putting together.

He finds that he’s able to do it without breaking down if he looks at it critically and through an analytical lens. It’s probably not healthy, he thinks, to close himself off so emotionally, but right now he thinks it’s the only way forward. They aren’t too awful, but they waver from grovelling for Shane’s presence in their life to trying to bully him into replying. In Shane’s opinion, there isn’t a real or authentic apology or a promise to better themselves. At some point in the future he will have time to feel and grieve and be upset and really take in all the mixed emotions his parents have been throwing at him, but for now he locks that all away in a box.

He does not call his mom again, instead he ignores every call from her and his dad, but he’s able to maintain a cordial yet removed relationship with her for the sake of his brand deals. Because a move can be expensive, and because he’s not sure he’ll be able to get a pay increase with a trade to a new team, Shane starts stockpiling some of his money and increasing some investments. After a long and overwhelming meeting with his financial manager – his mother normally goes with him and makes a lot of decisions for him, since Shane has little idea how the stock market and property investments work and isn’t too interested in learning the details – he feels like he is in a good place to take a large pay cut if he needs to. It ends up being a no-brainer for him: his priority is getting closer to Ilya and hopefully one day being able to play on the same team. If that means taking a pay cut, he can live with that. He already has more money than he needs, and after talking with his financial advisor about it, he isn’t too worried about having to seriously change his lifestyle in order to have the life and retirement he wants, even at a significant salary cut from hockey. He’s never been a big spender and he tends to hoard his money anyway for fear that he will have a career ending injury one day and need to live off his savings and interest for a few decades. 

He feels so incredibly settled right now. Things are in order, he has a purpose and a goal, his relationship with Ilya is stronger than ever, and the few friends he has have his back. 

It’s impossible to ride this high forever, but for now Shane is choosing to enjoy it.

Chapter End Notes

Constantly blown away and appreciative of the feedback I have received for this story!

I wanted to address a few things I've heard from commenters (not in a bad way! Just some themes I've seen come up in comments that I haven't been able to respond individually to. Commenters have been so kind with their deep and thoughtful responses, and I'm sad I haven't been able to respond to each one!):

1. Just because I wrote this story and Shane's choices doesn't mean I personally endorse or agree with them. I think we are witnessing an incredibly difficult year in Shane's life, and currently he is experiencing a few months of pretty serious depression, anxiety, and confusion about his future. I am very different than Shane, I have a different community of support, and I would (and have) made different choices. As I'm sure many of you would, too! But these are the choices that Shane is making. No one is perfect. Even while writing this story I was sometimes pulling my hair out about Shane's actions or his complete inability to get with the fucking program already haha.

2. I agree that Shane is a BAMF and once he puts his mind towards something he gets what he wants. For most of this story, his mind was set on "Get Ilya to Ottawa, get my parents to accept my sexuality, get my parents to appreciate Ilya, get the life I want." So he put all his time, energy, and effort into getting that. Unfortunately he hit a brick wall, and has only just accepted that this is not a battle he can win. So badass motherfucker Shane, who always fights hard for the things he wants and has a very rigid style of thinking, has finally realized he is allowed to change course. It's just been a hard few months for him, and he's going through the ringer. We will get confident Shane again! He will return to his status quo! We all have seasons of life where we aren't our best selves or happiest selves, and I really like being able to explore how someone acts and experiences those times of their lives.

3. I feel that Hayden was written poorly by Rachel Reid, especially in TLG where he takes too long to become a decent friend to Shane. I also think he is portrayed in the books as pretty one dimensional. I love that other people have been enjoying reading good guy Hayden Pike. He isn't perfect (no one is, including Shane and Ilya), but I feel like it's sort of ridiculous to assume that none of Shane's friends are able to see how hurt he is and change their behavior and offer support. Hayden is his best fucking friend, a fully grown adult, married with kids, and I refuse to write him in my story as permanently antagonistic to Shane and Ilya. Not because he never was -- even in my story, he absolutely *used to be.* It's just that I believe people can grow and change, and I really think that Hayden and JJ would have come around quickly or eventually lose their relationship with Shane entirely. And Hayden really loves Shane, and he understands Shane, and he would want the best for his best friend. So I have loved seeing other people feel similarly!

4. Yuna and David are terrible, awful people, and Yuna is manipulative and very controlling of Shane and his career. Similarly to Shane, once she gets an idea in her head she will fight tooth and nail to see it to fruition. Nevertheless, she is human, and she loves Shane dearly (it's just that she loves Shane in her own way). Just as Shane is realizing he needs to change his priorities, Yuna and David, too, are not immune to realizing the shit they created. It was of the utmost importance to me to write Yuna and David realistically and really ensure their actions and characterizations were believably human. They are terrible people, but they are not stereotypes, and they are now facing a huge fallout with their only child, and even they cannot ignore it. I appreciate everyone who has felt comfortable enough to share their own stories of friends and family members whose homophobia or racism looks a lot like Yuna's and David's -- subtle hatred is still hatred.

Thanks again for everyone who has left a comment, and I'm sorry I haven't been able to respond to them all! Big shout out to all the frequent commenters on each chapter -- seeing your names pop up in my email gives me an especially giddy feeling.

Chapter 9

Chapter Notes

So believe in me, believe them
You think I'll let you down
Well I won't
They can fire everything they've got
And when you think I'm sunk
I will float on and on 

–You Won’t Know

When Shane enters the locker room to prepare for their game against Tampa, it’s a little quieter than normal. Most people avoid looking at him and only a few greet him. 

As he walks to his locker, Drapeau sidesteps Shane immediately, moving out of his way like Shane’s touch might burn him.

His stomach drops immediately.

It’s Harleson, of all people, who pulls Shane aside and around the corner. 

“I am so sorry about this,” he says. “But I don’t know if you’ve seen it?”

Shane has no fucking clue what Harleson is talking about.

“Here,” Harleson says, showing his phone to Shane.

Shane wants to laugh, because really, he was sort of expecting this. It’s surprising, he notes momentarily, how little he actually cares. There’s no way this could be that big a deal to his teammates.

It’s a photo of him and Ilya at the coffee shop in Boston all those months ago. It’s nothing condemning – it’s a picture taken through the window, which is fogged up with condensation, and you can see Shane and Ilya in their biking gear, helmets unbuckled on top of their heads. It only barely looks like them. Shane has a coffee cup in his hand and Ilya is munching on a muffin. They are not touching and you can’t even really see their facial expressions.

The caption of the tweet is more wholesome than condemning.

Am I wrong or is this Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander grabbing a coffee together? If so, love that they actually get along!

It was posted the day they were there, but only must now have made its way on the radar of his teammates.

“So people are pissed because I went for a bike ride with Rozanov back in December?”

“I’m not pissed, if that means anything.”

Really, Shane does find this funny. Mostly it’s just so childish. Oh no, I’m friendly with players on other teams. Though this does allow him to start opening up about The Irina Foundation. Maybe plant some seeds that he and Ilya are closer than they let on, get his team used to his and Ilya’s friendship.

“Well, just wait until they find out that we are starting a hockey foundation together,” he says. No time like the present. 

“No shit?”

Shane nods. “Yeah. Launching this year sometime.”

“That’s cool,” Harleson comments, pocketing his phone. “But yes, I think a lot of people will hate that.”

“They can go fuck themselves,” Shane shrugs. “I feel like half of them hate me already.” He’s referring mostly to the evangelical Bible group of players that continue to avoid Shane when possible, never invite him out, and make it a point to walk away if he ever gets close.

Something in Harleson’s eyes glaze over, and Shane tries taking a step back so he can leave and go back to preparing for their game. He’s very over this conversation.

“I uhm, don’t want to speak out of line, but just in case, uhm, what they say is true…about you, I uh, don’t care.”

Man, people will do anything to avoid saying the word gay.

Shane pats Harleson awkwardly on the shoulder and throws caution to the wind, because fuck it. Things literally cannot get much worse.

“It is true,” he says plainly and walks away. He doesn’t care what Harleson’s reaction is, he doesn’t care how sincere he was being or if he will go blab to someone else, and he doesn’t want to say thank you. Why should he express gratitude that someone he’s only tangentially friendly with isn’t a homophobic prick?

He doesn’t even have time to freak out about coming out to a teammate. He knows he has plausible deniability, but he also is at the end of his rope and feels like being reckless. Rumors have spread regardless of his staying quiet.

That night Shane grinds hard to put up big numbers. He scores two goals and gets two assists, he avoids what would have likely been a hard slam into the boards by employing a new deke Ilya has been coaching him on, has 6 shots on goal and his faceoff win is 72.7%, upping his average for the season. 

He’s focusing on himself, trying to get back into his groove and put himself in position to be marketable to other teams. The opportunity is there to have two great seasons left with Montreal – this season and next season – and he wants to take advantage of that and be in the best position possible to solicit the interest of New York, New Jersey, or Philadelphia. 

Shane bites the bullet a week before a scheduled away game in New York. Ilya was right – Shane needs to reach out to the only other person in the league who knows what it’s like.

Shane: No big deal if you can’t but was wondering if we could get together after the game next week. I have a few questions

It takes three hours to get a response, and Shane has mild anxiety the entire time. 

Scott Hunter: Sure. Want to meet at the Kingfisher or do we need a more private place?

Shane: Private

Shane: It’s nothing major. I just think a loud bar might be hard to talk

Scott Hunter: I’ll send you my address. Kip will be there, but he can make himself scarce

Shane: No need for that. Kip’s chill. Thanks!

He immediately texts Ilya to let him know, and Ilya sends a crying face emoji that Shane and Scott aren’t meeting at the Kingfisher.

Ilya: You could have probably met Kyle. My favorite bartender. Always keeps a bottle of secret vodka for me. Sometimes even gives me free drinks

Shane: He’s probably hitting on you. Also you’re a millionaire. Pay your tab.

Ilya: probably?! He’s def hitting on me. I’m hot as shit. And I think Kyle and Eric are open. Maybe I could get lucky 😜

Shane: what does open mean?

Ilya: omfg shane. Open relationship

Shane: lol. too bad we aren’t though 😜

Ilya: I’m lucky enough as it is. Still videoing tonight?

Shane: yes

Shane: I’ll go get ready now 😉

Ilya: 🥵🔥🍆💦

Shane stands outside of Scott’s apartment building in his game day suit, and he suddenly wonders if he should have brought something. Scott mentioned he’d have food, but maybe Shane should have brought beer? Wine? Fucking flowers? This already feels so awkward.

The doorman must be expecting him because he immediately greets Shane as Mr. Hollander and escorts him to an elevator, pressing a key card to a box next to it. 

“Mr. Hunter’s apartment is numbered 1346 and is located to the right after you exit the elevator.”

Fuck, Shane thinks, am I supposed to tip this guy?

He feels so wildly out of his element. Turns out Scott Hunter’s even bougier than Shane. Or maybe it’s a New York thing? If he ends up here will he have such a secure apartment?

You’re getting too far ahead of yourself. 

Exiting the elevator he turns right, and before he can even knock the door opens. 

“Glad you made it,” Scott says, and they clasp hands for a moment and Scott gives him a light pat on the back.

“I wasn’t sure what you eat, but Kip does most of the cooking during the season. He made some whole wheat pasta, chicken, and the biggest salad known to man.”

Shane slips his shoes off. “That sounds great. Thanks. I’m sorry I didn’t bring anything.”

“No need. You can hang your coat up there. Get comfortable. I’ll show you around.”

Scott’s already changed into jeans and a t-shirt, so Shane takes his suggestion and removes his suit jacket and tie, unbuttons the top two buttons on his shirt, and folds up his sleeves. 

Scott shows him around the common areas and Kip comes out from a hallway and shakes Shane’s hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Kip says.

“You too.”

“Has Scott showed you around?”

“Yes, babe,” Scott replies from the kitchen where he’s pulling dinner out. 

“I already ate, so I’ll leave you two be. I just wanted to say hi.”

“You’re more than welcome to join,” Shane says, not forgetting his manners. He still feels so awkward. Scott is, to Ilya’s chagrin, someone Shane has looked up to for years, well before he was in the MLH himself. Add the anxiety he has knowing what he wants to talk to Scott about, and Shane’s buzzing a bit. All he has to rely on right now are his manners to help get him through. 

“I’ll come back later. But it was nice meeting you.”

Kip disappears again down the hallway, and Shane follows the scent of food back to the kitchen where Scott has put the food on the island.

“I figured we could just eat here? Less formal.”

Shane nods, grabs a plate and piles some food on after Scott, mindful to only take what he thinks he can eat.

“How’ve you been?” Scott asks.

“Uhm, good. Sort of. You?”

“Uh, yeah, also good.”

“Sorry,” Shane says. “I know this is awkward.”

“You’re okay,” Scott says, and for some reason that encouragement settles Shane a bit. 

This feels so much more intimate than Shane was expecting, and he wonders if maybe he made a mistake not agreeing to meet at the Kingfisher. But there’s no way he would be able to talk to Scott openly in public.

He plays with the food on his plate, having only been able to take a few bites, and centers himself to the best of his ability. Sitting at the kitchen island means they can’t look each other in the eyes unless they purposefully turn to face each other, and that’s enough of a relief for Shane, that he has an easy out to look away from Scott.

“I have a few questions. But I realize now they may be personal. So like, you don’t have to answer them if you don’t want.”

“Okay.”

“I wanted to know what it was like for you when you came out. Mainly, I guess, within the MLH. And also with sponsors.”

Scott swallows his bite, puts his fork down, and turns to face Shane.

Fuck, Shane thinks. So much for a low key conversation where I can avoid eye contact.

“I assume you want the truth? This isn’t some thought experiment?”

Shane nods. He knew that coming here and talking to Scott would inherently out him, but he needs these answers. Anyway, he’s already decided he won’t be closeted for the entirety of his career, and Scott is the safest person on an opposing team he can be out to. 

“It was a relief, first and foremost. I don’t know how I carried the stress of being closeted around for all those years. I know it sounds cliche, but it is the best decision I have ever made. But that doesn’t mean it’s been easy.”

“What’s been the worst?” Shane takes a small bite of salad just to give him something to do, glancing at Scott periodically while they talk.

“Roger Crowell is a homophobic dick who will make your life a living hell and who is protected by lawyers and money and a team of other homophobic pricks. You’ll lose sponsorships, players will say homophobic shit to you on the ice. Journalists will reach out to you left and right, and all everyone will want to talk about is your sexuality. I could score nine goals in a game and the headline would be ‘Gay Hockey Player Scott Hunter….’ I constantly wonder if when people look at me they see Scott Hunter: Hockey Player or if they see Scott Hunter: Gay Hockey Player. And I know the answer.”

Shane puts his head in his hand, feeling overwhelmed at the confirmation of a lot of his greatest fears. 

“Are you like…financially, did it impact you?”

Scott takes another bite of pasta, lolls his head back and forth for a moment.

“A bit. I’d have to talk to my financial advisor to know how much or for better or worse. I was never huge on brand deals like you are, so the impact feels minor. And I did get a lot of new contracts after I came out. Especially in the summer – Pride Month – my phone is ringing nonstop,” he snickers. “Within the Admirals nothing has changed though. I renewed my contract, a three year deal, and it was a competitive contract. It is what I’m worth. But I won’t lie – most offers I get are LGBTQ related. Not all though. Under Armour still works with me.”

It’s just what Ilya thought, and Shane knows that will make Ilya childishly happy, that Shane might be able to keep some of his sponsorships and gain some LGBTQ ones. 

“So do we talk about the elephant in the room?” Scott asks.

Shane picks at his food again. “Obviously I’m gay.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s obvious.”

“So you didn’t know?” 

“I didn’t say that,” Scott chortles. 

“So the rumor’s spread,” Shane says, feeling a bit disappointed.

“What rumors? I haven’t heard any rumors, Shane. I’m just not blind.”

“Huh?”

“Listen, I have no idea what’s going on, truly. But when you have the same secret as someone else, you sometimes pick up on things.”

“What things did you pick up on? That made me seem gay, or whatever?”

“Probably all the times Ilya hit on you in public.”

Shane chokes on his own saliva.

“What the fuck.”

Scott laughs. “What, you think I didn’t notice you always trading hotel room numbers at All Stars? You literally tried to punch me once when I said you sounded like him.”

“Fucking hell.” Shane can’t tell if he should laugh or cry. This is definitely his nightmare, because what if other people picked up on it? But also Ilya will love this. 

“If I’m being honest, I didn’t actually know know. I just…assumed. That maybe you were hooking up with him. I’m sorry if I got it wrong.”

“No,” Shane breathes out. “You got it right. Very right.”

“Yeah?!” Scott says, surprised. “Seriously?!”

“For almost ten years, yeah.”

“Holy shit,” Scott exhales.

Shane takes another bite of food. 

“Obviously it’s a secret. Ilya’s still waiting on his American Residency, so it’s like, pretty seriously a secret for now. Because of Russia.”

“Yeah, yeah. Totally. I swear. I won’t even tell Kip if you don’t want.”

“Can Kip keep a secret?”

“Yes.”

“I’m trying to figure out how to move forward with coming out. Start small, go big, just let the rumors do their job. If it’s even worth it? I don’t know. There are a lot of moving parts right now.” No way in hell is he going to tell Scott everything that’s happening in his life.

“You haven’t asked me the best parts of it, Shane.”

“The best parts of what?”

“Coming out. You went right to the worst, but my life is so much better now than it was when I was closeted.”

“Fine. What’s the best part?”

“This,” Scott says, arms splayed wide. “I live with my husband. My husband. Legally married. I have my team, I’m still playing hockey. I like myself, which might sound cocky but I didn’t really like myself when I was closeted and dating Kip. I didn’t want to lose hockey, and I really never did think I could have both. And I’m gonna be honest, I’m not saying that you can. The league is homophobic as shit, Crowell will not have your back, and some of the players are fucking scumbags. But I don’t regret it, never have.”

Shane wonders if Scott would have felt differently if his parents were alive, but he knows that’s such an unfair thing to think. It’s an obtrusive thought that, once entering his mind, he flings as far away as possible. Scott’s life could not have been easy, and it’s unfair of Shane to make comparisons.

“I want that,” Shane says. “What you and Kip have. We want that, me and Ilya. We’re working towards it.”

He wants to say, I just need to get on a new team first. He wants to say, Once I do this, though, there’s no going back, and I’ve already lost half my support system, what if I lose even more? He wants to ask Scott, Do you think New York would take me?

“What do you need from me?” Scott asks bluntly.

“Do you think your management would be willing to take on new clients? Or know someone who would be?”

“That’s your question?”

“For now, yeah. Why, what should I be asking?”

“I’ll connect you,” he says. “And I don’t know, you’re just always so business minded. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“It’s a long story,” Shane waves his hand and goes back to eating the rest of his plate. Eventually, he thinks, Shane might share his story more publicly. Today is just not the day.

They move on to other topics and Shane helps Scott clean up. Kip comes out while they’re wrapping things up, and Shane ends up staying a little bit longer so he can get to know him. It’s fun, and Kip and Scott seem really comfortable together. Kip’s funny and smart, and they avoid talking about hockey entirely and instead discuss movies and music and art. Shane shares that his boyfriend likes art, and Kip doesn’t even skip a beat, just asks what kind. He knows that when he leaves Scott will tell Kip that his boyfriend is Ilya, and he finds himself a little relieved that Kip will know. Ilya’s mentioned seeing Kip at the Kingfisher a few times, so the idea that one day they could all get together and just be fills Shane with hope.

Later, he makes his way back to his hotel, chatting with Ilya and updating him on how it went.

“So he definitely knows about us,” Shane says. “I couldn’t really not say anything. I’m sorry I essentially outed you.”

“Of course he knows.”

“How did you know that he knows?!”

“I hang out at the Kingfisher all the time. I danced with guys at his Vegas coming out party or whatever it was. And I have definitely alluded to him that I don’t just sleep with women. And I flirt with Kyle.”

“You know, this all would have been prevalent information for you to tell me before I went to his house.”

“Details, details.”

“I hate you,” Shane says.

“I hate you, too, malysh. But really, you got what you needed out of talking with him?”

“Yeah.”

“Another person in our corner, you know.”

“Hmm?”

“Scott. Kip, even. More people in our corner.”

“That’s true.”

“Also, I have good news,” Ilya shares.

“Yeah?”

“My lawyer says my Green Card application was submitted.”

“What?! No way! Are you for real?”

“Yeah. I can’t remember if it’s an EB-1 or 2 or whatever. But it’s submitted. Now it’s just a waiting game.”

“Holy shit, Ilya. This is huge.”

“And I’ve been talking to Boston. They are still interested and very relieved that we are like, being open with each other. They thanked me for my transparency. Just good news on all fronts, yeah?”

“What did you tell them about looking at Ottawa?” Shane asks.

“I just said I was exploring my options in case my Green Card was denied. It was the first thing I could think of. So all is good.”

“Something to celebrate when I see you next.” Shane turns the corner and heads into his hotel, still chatting with Ilya, hanging up as he enters the room he’s sharing with Hayden who has already passed out.

He changes and doom scrolls on his phone for a bit before going to sleep.

Shane meets with his lawyer Jeremy the next time he’s in town. Once again he’s struck with the awkwardness of showing up alone when he’s normally with his mother, and overwhelmed at having to share, in-person, parts of his personal life that he’d rather not.

He has a thumb drive with all of the information he and Ilya have collected. It’s also been printed and put in a manilla folder Shane is carrying, emailed to Jeremy, and uploaded to a secured, password protected online drive. Shane wasn’t taking any chances.

They get right down the business.

“So I’ve looked over everything you’ve compiled, and it was quite a lot.”

“Do you think it’s enough for a fireable offense?” Shane asks.

“Homophobia is a reason to be terminated here, yes. It’s called Just Cause Termination. And I do think you have enough to show your mother has expressed homophobic tendencies on the job. It’s complicated, because she is your mother, so not all of her conversations with you were happening while she was on the job, so to speak.”

“A lot were sent from her work email, though. And her work phone. Which I pay for.”

“You have a good case here, Shane. But I want to caution you that just because it’s a rightful termination doesn’t mean that she won’t file a lawsuit or go public with her information.”

“You mean out me?”

“Yes,” Jeremy replies frankly. “It’s not illegal to out someone. Though there is the option to sue her for defamation if she does.”

“Sue her?” 

“I’m not suggesting you do, I’m merely just laying out potential options for the future.”

“Sorry,” Shane says, overwhelmed and taking it all in. “I want to make sure I understand. I can legally fire her, but if she disagrees or gets pissed she can file a wrongful termination lawsuit.”

“Yes,” Jeremy replies. “You could settle, which would likely mean paying a large sum to her. Or it could end up in court.”

“Where these messages would come out,” Shane concludes.

“They would have to,” Jeremy confirms. “It’s unlikely to be a closed trial.”

“Do you think it’s likely she will retaliate in that way?”

“I think you know your mother better than I do. In my experience, though, people with the financial means who truly feel wronged do file a wrongful termination lawsuit, yes. They often want to save their image.”

There’s a lot to contemplate about this, but Shane knows it ultimately doesn’t matter. He can’t have his mother as his manager anymore. 

“From a legal perspective, should I have you present when I fire her? Or do it over email?”

“I do not suggest you terminate your manager via email. It should be done in person, and I would suggest that legal counsel be present. I do understand this is an especially tense and fraught relationship and that my presence wouldn’t exactly be welcome. Ultimately you need to make your own choice.”

Shane takes a deep breath, pen still in his hand where he was taking notes. 

“One more thing,” Jeremy says. 

“Hmm,” Shane replies, still partially zoning out.

“I assume you will want to update your medical documents? Your will?”

“What?” Shane asks.

“Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but with everything you are showing me about your relationship with your mother, you might want to reconsider your medical proxy, Advanced Directive, and will.”

Shane writes those words down, bites his lip, and tries not to shudder at the amount of work on his plate.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

His mother currently is on all his medical paperwork, has the right to make any and all decisions about his health if he is unable to, and stands to gain over half his estate upon death (with the other half being split between his father and various charities). 

“I don’t do estate planning, but can refer you to a colleague of mine who does.”

Shane nods. “Great, yeah.”

Shane got his answer about firing his mom, but ten other questions popped up in the process. There’s a lot to think about here and worry over – too much, almost. He doesn’t think his mom would publicly out him, but he feels so unsure of what is real anymore that he wants to be prepared for anything.

Shane hasn’t touched his will since the year after he was drafted, and every year he merely confirms with his doctor that his mom is still his medical proxy. He doesn’t even know how to go about changing this information.

Every time he moves the tiniest bit forward in trying to cut his mother off he realizes how convoluted their relationship is, how interconnected they really are, and how deeply she is burrowed into the fabric of his life. Untangling this mess is the biggest headache Shane has ever faced, and he can’t help but feel that it is constantly sucking his life force out of him.

Shane talks through his options with Gabriel, but he’s not sure it’s actually helpful. Instead he ends up lamenting that therapists can’t just tell you what to do.

He talks to Hayden and Rose, he reaches out to Jackie and JJ, he even gives Farah a call. The issue is that no one will tell him what to do. He gets a different variation of the same response:

I’m happy to talk through the pros and cons, but really this is a choice only you can make.

Fuck, this sucks. No good choices here.

Whatever you choose to do, I’ve got your back.

I think you need to prioritize yourself and your mental health and choose whichever one feels best to you.

Not even Ilya is any help.

“Shane,” he says, his eyes emanating that puppy dog look that Ilya only gives when he’s about to let you down. “You know I can’t tell you what to do.”

“Why?” Shane asks petulantly while he paces Ilya’s living room. It’s the last time their teams will meet each other during the season, though they have high hopes they’ll be seeing each other again in the post season. 

“This is a deeply personal choice, and I can’t be responsible for making it.”

“Please don’t regurgitate your therapy bullshit,” Shane argues. He’s truly at the end of his rope. 

He doesn’t want to do this. He doesn’t want to fire his mom. Just because they’ve been essentially no contact since Christmas outside the realm of work, Shane doesn’t want to make it permanent. 

“I’m sorry,” Ilya responds calmly, holding his hands up in surrender. “Phrase it however you want though, but my answer is going to be the same.”

“But I trust your judgment,” Shane replies.

Ilya pauses, leans against the far wall. “I don’t think you should,” he replies.

Shane stops walking and turns towards Ilya.

“What do you mean?”

Ilya runs his nose over his thumb, a tell that he’s annoyed or upset or uncomfortable – Shane hasn’t entirely figured it out yet.

Ilya shrugs.

“No,” Shane says. “Don’t do that. Just tell me. Why shouldn’t I trust your judgment? You’ve been by my side this whole time, you know this situation better than anyone else.”

“Because you’re doing what I couldn’t do,” Ilya replies.

Shane scrunches his face. Doing what I couldn’t do.

“What do you mean?”

Ilya shrugs again, and Shane moves closer so can hold Ilya and establish some sort of physical connection before Ilya retreats so entirely into quiet avoidance and changes the conversation.

“Hey,” Shane says, grabbing Ilya’s hand and bringing him back to the couch. “What’s going on?”

Ilya rolls his eyes and sits on the couch, trying to look calm, cool, and collected.

“I never once stood up to my dad. I barely stand up to Alexei now.”

“But that’s differe–”

“No,” Ilya says sternly. “It isn’t. You’ve spent the last few years trying to, to – force this relationship with your parents. Not in a bad way, but you want them in your life and you want them to love and support you. And I did the same fucking thing with my dad before he died, and I still cave every few months to my brother. I can’t tell you to do something that I couldn’t fucking do for myself, Shane.”

And woah. Not once has Shane ever considered this.

“You don’t deserve for people to treat you like shit.”

Ilya shakes his head and removes his hand from Shane’s lap.

“It’s not that, Shane. I know that. This…this hasn’t entirely been about my self-worth or whatever, okay? I don’t think you realize how fucking strong you are. I am in awe of how brave you are, every single fucking day.”

“I don’t feel brave,” Shane replies.

“Trust me. You are. And I’m not.”

“So it is about self-worth?” Shane asks. “At least a little bit. Cause I think you’re brave as shit.”

“Reset,” Ilya says, grabbing Shane’s hand again. He takes a deep breath and Shane does, too. “Yes, it is about my self-worth, but also you are asking me for guidance about your relationship with your parents and all I can think is…when you realized how shitty your parents were treating you and how they wouldn’t change, you started setting boundaries, you started disconnecting your life from theirs. But when I realized the same thing about my dad and brother, I did nothing. I sat there and let them treat me like shit. And now you ask for my opinion and I just don’t trust my opinion enough to give it to you. Because you’re doing all these things I was never able to do. I don’t want to lead you in the wrong direction.”

Shane sits with that for a moment, rubbing his thumb over Ilya’s hand. He thinks about all the times Ilya tried to explain his relationship with his father and brother, he thinks about that bank account in Russia that Ilya holds only so he can still pay Alexei’s unpaid bills easily, he thinks about all the times Ilya told him he let his father treat him and his mother like trash while he just took it. He thinks about how strong he believes Ilya to be, how brave he is, how much Ilya has survived and how much he has grown through therapy. 

“We…we should talk about all that. We should. But also, just because you took a different route than I am doesn’t mean that I don’t trust your opinion. I trust your opinion even more, Ilya. And I don’t think you’re weak or that you just sat there and took their bullshit. You didn’t have a support system then. I want your opinion, I don’t want you to tell me what to do. But I…I respect that you don’t want to, okay? I won’t make you.”

Ilya nods once, with finality, and squeezes Shane’s hand. “Thank you. And…I trust whatever choice you make. I have your back.”

A short silence ensues, and Shane can’t help but get caught up in his thoughts.

Once he does this – once he fires his mom – there is no going back. Leaving the country, moving to America, switching teams – those are all things he knows his mother – the old version of him that he misses – would come back from. The landscape of hockey means he can’t necessarily control where he plays, and while she’d be devastated if he ever left the Metros, she wouldn’t end their relationship over it.

Then again, he never thought him being gay would end their relationship either.

“I don’t want to do this,” Shane chokes, and he can’t stop the tears from coming. He doesn’t even know why he tried – it was inevitable.

Ilya slowly scoots to Shane like he’s an animal that might attack. He opens his arms and Shane falls into them, banging his head against Ilya’s shoulder a few times in frustration. 

“You’re very brave,” Ilya reminds him again.

“I’m not,” Shane says.

“I’m serious, Shane. I don’t think I would be able to do this.”

Shane doesn’t believe that in a heartbeat. He thinks that if Ilya had the support system then that Shane has now that he would have been able to set boundaries with his father and brother. Shane wasn’t able to stand up for himself until he also put that community of support in place.

“Not true,” Shane replies.

Ilya pulls back and looks into Shane’s eyes.

“I’m serious, Shane. And I’m sorry if it’s a fucked up thing to say. But I talk about this all the time. With Galina, with Svetlana. I could never stand up to my father, I can still barely stand up to my brother. You are the strongest person I know. And I’m sorry you are in this situation – I really am. But I will be here, by your side, the entire time. Okay?”

Shane sniffs, wipes the tears away from his eyes, nods.

“I love you.”

Ilya kisses him and pulls him in tight.

In the end Shane makes the agonizing decision to tell his mom to her face, without a lawyer present, and invites his father to join. He struggles as to whether he should have Ilya there, though Ilya has offered.

On the one hand, having Ilya there would be incredibly important for his mental health, his confidence, and his nerves.

On the other hand, he’s nervous that Ilya’s presence will set his parents off, putting them on the wrong foot immediately. They already have this twisted idea that Ilya is putting all of these ideas in Shane’s head, and Shane doesn’t want this to be another thing they mistakenly blame Ilya for.

In the end Shane doesn’t make that decision today. He picks two dates he and Ilya are both free, in case he does end up wanting Ilya to come, and texts both his parents in the group chat asking if they’re able to meet him in Montreal. Farah offered her office space as a neutral meeting ground, which Shane is incredibly thankful for.

They respond quickly. The date is set.

Now all Shane has to do is wait.

When Shane turned seven his parents threw him a Power Rangers birthday party. They bought Shane a blue Power Rangers costume, which he wore the entire week leading up to his party, at his party, and then the week after, too. His parents would wash it at night while he was sleeping so it would be clean and ready to be worn the minute he woke up. He remembers the decorations all over his backyard and inside his house, which his parents left up for a few days after because Shane cried when they started taking them down. 

His father somehow jerry-rigged a lava lamp so that it had Zordon’s face in it – the orbed mentor from the TV show. His mom dresses as Alpha 5, the Power Rangers’ robotic assistant, and his father spent the entire party pretending to be Lord Zedd, screaming “My name is Lord Zedd, Z-E-D-D” and letting Shane, in his blue Ranger suit, defeat him. For hours he let Shane and his friends chase him around and conquer the evil villain.

Even his cake was shaped like the Blue Ranger.

He spoke about that party for years. To this day it’s an absolute highlight of his life.

At nine, when his grandmother died, his mother held him in bed every night for a week while he cried. She put her own grief to the side to help Shane. She never downplayed his emotions or made him feel bad for crying even when he didn’t know his grandmother too well. She never tried to get him to sleep alone, either. Without question she accepted what Shane needed as fact and was there for him every single day until he finally felt like he could handle his grief himself. He wouldn’t have been able to name it at the time, but what he felt from his mom was unconditional love. 

He remembers his parents at nearly every Little League baseball game, Peewee soccer game, and all the hockey games as he ascended through the league. There was never a time where he doubted they’d be there, never an important game or awards ceremony that they missed.

In Grade 9 Shane met a friend named Conner whose parents were divorced and whose stepdad was a piece of shit. It was a world Shane didn’t understand and felt very uncomfortable in. When he’d visit Conner’s house, a small two bedroom apartment in a different town than Shane’s, Conner would tell him to be quiet because his stepdad would get pissed if they were too loud while he was trying to sleep. He worked third shift and slept during the day and Shane was always afraid what would happen if he woke up. Conner always seemed nervous around his stepdad. The only times he saw Conner’s mom was if she was sitting on the back porch smoking cigarettes and talking on the phone. Conner only saw his bio dad a few times a year, Shane remembers learning.

He hated going over to Conner’s house because nothing made sense. It didn’t feel like a home. Every time he was there it felt like he was navigating a minefield – step here, avoid walking there, don’t get caught here, don’t touch that.

Conner moved halfway through the school year and that was that. Shane never saw him again. 

Shane went back to his nice house with his nice parents and was able to continue living in ignorance. Parents are supposed to love their children. His family was right and Conner’s family was an anomaly. 

When he looks back on his childhood, though there were of course issues, he sees a life full of love and happiness and safety. There’s a treasure trove of memories that he doesn’t want to forget, but that is also hard to reconcile with what he knows now. They’re painful and tainted. 

The knowledge that there might not be any new memories is excruciating, like he’s missing a limb. It aches, physically.

Almost two years ago he sat on the couch at his cottage Googling stories about homophobic parents, trying to find hope for his future. He wants to laugh at his naivety, wants to yell and scream why do some people get their parents back but I don’t? That jealous monster inside him feels awful, but it’s still there. 

He needs to rip off the band-aid. He needs to know once and for all if his parents might come around. 

Two more days. In two days he will face his parents and bear his heart and soul out. He will fire his mom, he will turn his back on his dad. He will choose himself, he will choose Ilya, and he will choose honesty and love and his own happiness.

This does not make it easier.

Ilya takes two days off hockey and flies to Montreal on a red eye, right after a game, the night before Shane and his parents meet.

Shane still hasn’t decided if he wants Ilya by his side during the meeting, and he’s a little concerned that Ilya skipping a game so late in the season could be interpreted poorly. In the end he chooses to let it go – he can’t worry about Ilya right now, and he trusts that Ilya wouldn’t make any decisions whose consequences he couldn’t handle. He, too, is planning on taking the next day off. He won’t be missing a game, just a practice, but he knows he’ll need time to recover. Even if it goes amazingly, he just plans on crashing and allowing himself some time to recuperate. 

Ultimately he knows he will need Ilya after this, so he counts his blessings instead and thanks Ilya for always being there for him. 

He reaches out to Hayden, Jackie, and JJ in a group message, sharing with them what’s happening and just asking that they have his back. He texts Rose the same thing and reminds himself that he has a community of people who love and accept him for who he is.

Ultimately he comes to the decision that he needs to take this meeting alone, stand on his own two feet, and face his parents independently. Ilya will drive Shane to Farah’s office and sit in a coffee shop right next door so he can be at Shane’s side the minute an emergency SOS text or call is sent. 

Shane can feel his heart beating out of his chest the entire ride there, and he’s so nervous that he can’t even shake his leg. He feels borderline catatonic, a weird calm settling over him that’s anything but peaceful.

Ilya parks the car in a garage nearby and turns to Shane.

“I love you, okay?”

Shane nods, unable to look at Ilya, still locked in his own world of dread.

Ilya leans forward and kisses his cheek, his lips, places their forehands against each other. He’s crying, Shane notes. Not him, but Ilya. 

They walk to the front door of the office building together, hands clasped together in a death grip because Shane needs it and because he doesn’t fucking care who sees. 

“See you soon?” Shane’s voice is shaky.

Ilya nods, sniffles, scratches at his nose. They stand there for a second, just holding hands, neither of them seemingly able to separate. 

Shane squeezes Ilya’s hand once, hard, and pulls his hand away. It’s physically painful and emotionally agonizing. Then he walks through the door.

Chapter End Notes

I know I sound like a broken record, but I really am thankful for every single comment left on this story, and I am absolutely blown away by the response to this story and so appreciative.

One more chapter left! Thanks so much for going on this journey with me.

Also, happy hockey season to all who celebrate! It just started and we already got our first fight. And to those following baseball, OOHHH BOYY have we entered an already intense playoff season! Hello October baseball!

And lastly, for those who don't believe in sports and instead celebrate Spooky Season, Happy Spooktober to you!

Chapter 10

Chapter Notes

I don't want to let you go

But it hurts my hands to hold the rope 

–Sink

Farah shows him to the conference room that she reserved for him. It’s more intimate than Shane was expecting. The table only holds six people, like a standard dining room table, with impersonal art on the wall that does very little to warm the room up. It’s on a floor above the offices, so there isn’t anyone mulling around in a cubicle trying to get work done. The only other people Shane sees are an Administrative Assistant at the front desk and a security guard by the elevators. 

He purposefully chose to get there early so he could have time to settle down in the space, but the flip side of that coin is he now has twenty minutes to sit and spiral. Farah leaves him to it and heads back down to her office.

To waste time and center himself he tries a breathing exercise, but it doesn't go well. Instead he practices what he’s going to say, muttering softly out loud. Again, it doesn’t really help, but it does pass the time.

He’s startled to hear the door open and he stands immediately while the Administrative Assistant he met earlier chauffeurs his parents inside. 

In all the preparation he’s done for this meeting, he never once thought whether he should hug his parents or not. In the end they make the decision for him. His mom comes around the table immediately and pulls him into a tight, searing hug, tears running down her face. His dad follows, but his mom won’t let him go so he can hug his dad, so instead his dad puts his arm around Shane’s shoulders and squeezes him tight, and it turns into a three person embrace. 

Shane cries, too, tears falling silently down his cheeks. It’s fucked up, maybe, but he has missed this. He has missed them. 

He doesn’t know who pulls back first, but at one point they're hugging and the next they’re all settling around the table. Shane waits for his parents to sit first so he can situate himself directly across from them.

“We’ve missed you,” his mom says. Her voice is soft, her face looks a bit gaunt. She’s not wearing any makeup. His father looks lost. No one at this table is feeling their best, it’s clear.

“I missed you, too,” Shane replies, because it’s true. One of the things he spoke with Gabriel about was how important it was for him to lay all his cards out on the table at this meeting. Leave no stone unturned. He wants his parents to know everything: how hurt he is, how hard this has been for him, how this wasn’t his intention. He doesn’t want to lie or put on a brave face or downplay his emotions. He wants to leave this meeting with no regrets.

“We’re sorry about how we ended things,” his father says. “We…we realize we may have overstepped.”

“Thank you,” Shane says. He doesn’t want to accept their apology but he also doesn’t want to overlook it. He can acknowledge it without praising them for it, and then he can move on. “I know meeting like this is probably weird, for all of us, but thank you for coming.

“Of course,” his mother says.

“There’s a lot we need to talk about, but first I guess I just want to update you on some things.”

His parents grab each other’s hands over the table and a small pang of jealousy rings through him wishing Ilya were there and he could do the same.

He continues. “First, Ilya and I are still together. He will no longer be moving to Ottawa.”

He waits to see if there’s a reaction from his parents, but they’re remaining pretty stone faced.

“We have changed our plans a bit, but the end goal is still for us to live together and play for teams close to each other. I have also started coming out to more people, and once Ilya is in a place of safety regarding his immigration status, we’ve decided that we will both come out.”

His dad nods and his mom looks him dead in the eye, betraying no emotion.

Shane stumbles on, trying his hardest to keep his voice even as he delivers the first bit of big news.

“We have continued with the creation of The Irina Foundation, and will be interviewing potential Executive Directors and Vice Presidents once our seasons are over.”

Yuna nods tightly, her eyes glassy. This is the first blow; no longer is Yuna invited to lead this initiative.

“Is that what you wanted to tell us?” she asks, her voice trembling slightly.

“I want to share updates about my life,” Shane says plainly, not answering his mother’s question directly.

“We’re so sorry, Shane. We just want things to go back to how they were,” his mom says with a shaky voice and a tear escaping. 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Shane says, succumbing to his emotions, too. “It can’t.”

“It can,” his mom replies, desperate and hopeful and demanding all at once. 

Shane shakes his head. “Not until you realize how much you’ve hurt me.”

“Shane,” his dad says hesitantly.

“You have no idea how awful these last few months have been. Fuck, no, the last few years. Ever since I came out you have made me feel awful, like there’s something wrong with me. Like there was this standard I used to meet and I didn’t anymore. Not because I became a worse person or made bad choices, but because of who I am.”

“We’re okay with you being gay,” his dad interjects.

“No,” Shane says. “You’re not. Or you weren’t the last time we talked.”

“Clearly things have changed for us,” Yuna responds. 

“I don’t know if they’ve changed for me, though,” Shane confesses. “And it’s not just the gay thing, it’s the Ilya of it all. You spent nearly two years making him feel like shit, making me feel like shit just for loving him.”

His mom is all out crying now, and his father is in a state of such heartbroken bewilderment that it makes Shane antsy. 

“We’ve spent some time reflecting,” his dad replies.

Shane rolls his eyes. It feels so sanitary the way he says it, like that’s all Shane should need to hear. Like reflection is the highest form of regret and apology. 

“Come to any conclusions?” Shane snarks back.

They ignore his tone.

“We just want what’s best for you,” his mom says.

“Do you not trust that I know what’s best for me?”

His words hang in the air, its weight descending on the room, its echo filling the space. 

“What can we do?” his dad asks, “to fix this?”

“Ilya and I are together. We will be coming out – to the world – getting married, having kids. You need to know this, and you need to be fine with it.”

His parents look at each other, silently communicating something Shane can’t understand, then look back at him and nod. 

“And I think we need some space, from each other, me and you,” he clarifies, looking directly at his mother. 

“Shane,” his mother says, an argument on her tongue.

“– I brought you here for a specific reason,” he continues. “And it has to happen, okay?”

“What are you talking about?” his dad asks.

Shane maintains eye contact with his mom, he takes a deep breath and steadies himself.

“Mom, I am officially terminating your contract as my sports manager, effective immediately. This is a Just Cause Termination based on homophobic rhetoric sent via work email and cell phone to and about me, your boss. Jeremy will be sending you your termination paperwork along with the evidence collected. I’d appreciate copies of all documents pertaining to my current and former brand and advertising deals, passwords to my accounts, and contact information for the people you work with on my behalf.”

His voice breaks halfway through, but he holds on to the best of his ability as he says the words he’s been practicing for days and has committed to memory.

His mom gasps while Shane is talking, covering her mouth and shaking her head in disbelief. He hears her muttering no, no, no over and over again, but he doesn’t stop talking.

“I have spoken to Jeremy about this, and obviously Farah, and have offered your position to the same company that manages Scott Hunter. You will be offered a severance package.”

“Shane,” his mom says, her voice cracking. Shane feels his own tears fall, but he can’t stop. He has to keep going, he has to finish this.

“I’m not doing this to hurt you. If we want to work on our relationship as mother and son then we need to focus on that. I don’t think we can keep working together, not with how things are. It’s not good for either of us.”

Shane’s dad stays heartbreakingly silent and his mom continues to weep, her quiet sobs drowning out the sound of Shane’s own tears. No one says anything, not for a while, so the sounds of sniffles and snorts and shirts wiping away tears and snot from faces fills up the room. 

He waits for his mom to push back, to threaten a lawsuit, to tell him he’s making the biggest mistake of his life.

Instead, after finally pulling herself together, she says the one thing Shane was absolutely not expecting.

“I understand,” she says. “We understand, Shane. It’s okay.”

We understand. It’s okay. 

That alone has Shane breaking down and falling apart on the table. He didn’t realize how much he needed to hear that. 

No one gets up and tries to comfort him, thankfully, because he isn’t ready to use them as pillars of support quite yet. 

They stay in the room for a few more minutes before they each individually pull themselves together enough to leave the room without looking like complete and utter messes. 

They hug, though not like before. It’s quick, it’s light, it’s not quite a goodbye forever, but it still feels very final.

“Please, don’t be a stranger, okay?” his mom says, though it comes out more like a question, and Shane accepts it for what it is: a promise that they will let Shane make the first move and set the pace and the rules of their reunification.

He nods, says nothing because his voice is wrecked and he doesn’t have anything left in him anymore. He opens the door for them and lets them leave first, waiting long enough that he won’t accidentally run into them again outside the building.

Shane: I’m coming down.

He pockets his phone immediately, doesn’t even wait for a response from Ilya, and makes his way down.

Ilya asks how it went on the car ride home but Shane can’t say anything. His throat feels too tight and he’s still crying and there’s too many thoughts in his head to make any order of them. He just nods. Ilya seems to understand, because all he does is take Shane’s hand and hold it the entire way home and doesn’t ask any more questions.

He leads Shane upstairs and follows Shane’s lead as he heads directly to the bedroom and disrobes down to his underwear and hops in bed. When Ilya is spooning him and Shane feels like he can finally breathe, he speaks.

“I think it went well,” he says.

He feels Ilya’s steady presence behind him. 

“I’m just relieved it’s over,” he continues.

“What do you need?” Ilya asks.

“For this feeling to go away.”

He feels bad for saying it because there’s nothing Ilya can do about it. He shuts his eyes and drifts off to sleep.

Shane doesn’t leave his bed that day, and he doesn’t leave it most of the next day either. He’s dreading having to play a game tomorrow and stuck between anxiety and relief that he has a deadline to pull his shit together. 

Ilya must feel similarly, because he tells Shane that he can take another day off and stay longer.

“No,” Shane says, this time from his position snuggled on the couch. “You guys are going to the playoffs, they need you.”

“The playoffs are weeks away, Shane. We’ve already clinched the division.” Shane knows he isn’t saying it to be an asshole or shove it in Shane’s face. It’s the Metros who need Shane for their next game more than the Raiders will need Ilya. “I’m taking another day, okay? Whether you play or stay home, I’m staying here.”

“Okay,” Shane whispers. 

In the end Shane does pull himself off the couch, fuels up, and does a brief workout downstairs with Ilya, who lifts far less weight than he’s capable of, does far fewer reps, and mainly just looks at Shane, spots him, and follows him around while pretending to not be following him around. 

When Shane pulls up a yoga video from a yoga instructor he likes, Ilya doesn’t even complain. He grabs a mat, unasked, and places it next to Shane’s, following along dutifully. 

Right before they’d normally eat dinner, the doorbell rings and Ilya goes to answer it.  Shane hears soft voices at the door and then Hayden appears. 

“Hey. Sorry to just barge in, but I figured…I just wanted to check in on you?”

“It’s all good,” Shane says, pulling Hayden into a short bro hug. 

“Fun few days, huh?”

“Yeah, a fucking blast.”

They don’t talk about it, instead opting to play video games and veg out on the couch. They order takeout, which is generally a rarity for Shane this late in the season when he’s trying to treat his body and mind like a temple and stick to his meal plan and workout regimen. But when he suggests pho everyone immediately hops on board even though Hayden thinks soup isn’t a full meal and Ilya thinks takeout pho isn’t nearly as good as in a restaurant. 

They split a bunch of appetizers, down their soups, play more games, and then Hayden heads out for the night.

“WIll I see you tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.” They clasp hands and say goodbye.

Ilya’s already cleaning up when Shane gets back from seeing Hayden out.

“So you and Hayden were talking,” Shane comments.

“He texted and asked if you were okay. Said you hadn’t responded to him.”

“I just sort of ignored my phone for a while.”

“You don’t mind?” Ilya asks.

“That you and Hayden spoke? Of course not. It was…nice, actually. You two getting along.”

“New beginnings and all that,” Ilya minimizes. 

Shane smiles, happy that his best friend and boyfriend have left the majority of their pettiness in the past. 

“Thank you,” he says instead. “For everything. You’re amazing, and I’m sorry if I haven’t said that more often.”

“You say it all the time.” Ilya wraps his arm around Shane’s waist and swoops him up bridal style while Shane yelps at the unexpected movement. “Shower and bed?”

Instead of answering Shane kisses him. 

Later that week, after Ilya has left, Shane sits down with Gabriel. He cancelled his last session, which he knows he shouldn’t have done but it fell the day after he spoke with his parents. Originally he had underestimated how much it would take out of him to talk with his parents, and he thought that debriefing soon after with Gabriel would help keep him in a good mindset. But as Gabriel explains to him:

“Your body and mind needed time to heal afterwards.”

“Heal? I fucking shut down. Again.”

“What do you mean again?”

“The last two times I met with my parents I ended up nearly catatonic for two days.”

Gabriel, who rarely seems to take notes during their sessions, looks off screen for a moment.

“You’re referring to the time you and your parents fought, in person, about how they treat you and Ilya?”

“Yes,” Shane confirms.

“You’re being incredibly hard on yourself, expecting that you’ll be able to breeze past exceptionally difficult moments in your life.”

“Not breeze past,” Shane defends. “But like, I could have taken out the trash. Or even showered. I just shut down. Laid in bed.”

“How long did you ‘shut down?’” Gabriel asks, mimicking Shane’s words.

“Almost two days.”

“What happened on the third day?”

“What do you mean?” Shane asks, frustrated. “I got up and went to work, went back to getting my workouts in, met with PT – I went back to life.”

“When you went back to your life, as you say, do you feel like you were able to reasonably meet your expectations?”

“Like, was I able to do what I was supposed to?” Gabriel nods. “Yeah. I mean, the first time my play was affected for a bit, but that’s more because I just generally wasn’t in a good head space. Though I didn’t suck, it just felt like a drag and my numbers were just sort of average. But if you’re asking if I missed any meetings, practices, games, all that, then no. Not really. Not after the second day. It was easier this time to pull myself together.”

“How about your relationships? How did things go in the aftermath with your partner and your friends?”

“Fine. Ilya was there for me. And so were my friends.”

“You’re incredibly hard on yourself, Shane. You experienced an extremely traumatic event – two incredibly emotional events – and then spent less than two days coping with it in the way your mind and body needed. On both occasions you were able to independently and quickly return to your responsibilities. You maintained your friendships, your relationship with your partner wasn’t negatively affected, and neither was your work. If this were Ilya, would you be as hard on him?”

Shane’s a little flabbergasted, especially because he already knows the answer. Of course he wouldn’t have demanded as much from Ilya as he demands of himself. Ilya who does have depression, who has spent more than two days depressed and lying in bed. Whose friendships and work has suffered, unintentionally, when he was experiencing a depressive episode. Shane has never held that against him. Quite the opposite, actually; Shane has advocated for Ilya to do less during those times, to not push himself too hard, to postpone meetings or planned events in order to focus on himself.

“It’s true I’m harder on myself than others,” Shane admits. “I think…ugh, it’s so cliche. I don’t want to blame my mother, but a lot of it is probably tied to her.”

“In what way?”

Shane fiddles with the collar of his shirt.

“She always demanded the best from me, but not in a way that always felt possible to reach. Just to be honest, though, I like having a high bar I need to reach and a standard to uphold. But there’s always been this element with her of having to be a role model, having to live a specific life. She wants me to look and be a certain way to the outside world. In a way, I think that’s part of the issue for her with me being gay and being with Ilya.”

“What parts of your mother’s standards do you consider your own standards and want to continue holding for yourself?”

“I want to be the best hockey player I can be, and my mom pushed me to be the best. I appreciate that. Her support is the reason I am here today, and I want to uphold that. I want to be a good player, and I do want to be a role model, I guess. I just…for me a role model is different than what it is for my mom.”

“What do you think the differences are between your version of a role model and her version?”

Shane thinks about it. He hasn’t done any deep dives in separating the two, but he has a few ideas.

“For my mom she wants me to be…I think she looked at some of her favorite athletes across all sports and combined them together and expected me to be all those people at once. So I had to be the best hockey player in the league, win the most awards, be wholesome, not get arrested or have my name in the news for anything potentially scandalous. I had to work with certain brands and project a specific upper class, elite quality. I needed to not share too much of my life, but share enough that I was relatable. I needed to think about my image before I made any choices. Kids had to look up to me, adults had to like me, and the sports world had to respect me.”

“How do you define a role model?

“I do want to be the best player in hockey, obviously. And I want to be a good person. I don’t want to share too much of my life online, but for my mom it was out of being able to construct an image out of me, but for me it’s more that I just am a private person. I don’t care if people know I’m gay or like to hike or like shitty action movies with lots of violence. I guess I just want to be myself, and I think being myself is good enough. Like, I’m a decent person as is. I don’t really care what other people think of me outside of that. Maybe I actually don’t want to be a role model.”

“It’s true that being in the public eye makes you susceptible to others' opinions about you. As you work to deconstruct the ways in which your parents have changed how you view yourself and the choices you made, now is a good time to reflect on the person you want to be and what that might look like. I’d suggest writing about it, but I know how you feel about journaling,” Gabriel smiles.

Shane thinks about his lawyer Jeremy suggesting he create social media accounts just for him, about him, and not connected solely to his career as a hockey player. He thinks about being able to be more himself on those accounts. 

Shane huffs a laugh in response. “You’re probably right. It does end up helping.”

They close out their session and Shane continues on with his day, promising himself that he will journal about this all later to help him sort out his thoughts.

Both the Metros and the Raiders breeze into the playoffs. Shane texts his parents and lets them know that if they want to come to a First Round match in Montreal that he will have tickets for them. He sets a firm boundary that he is not able to meet with them before or after the game, and they agree to his conditions. 

He puts therapy on hold during the post-season and finds that while he doesn’t ultimately miss it, he could see himself continuing on a much more infrequent basis. He makes a mental note to talk to Ilya about it and see what his opinions are of Shane lowering his sessions to once a month, especially during the summer since they will be at the cabin. He makes it a bullet point in his journal’s To Do List, and writes a note saying he doesn’t want Ilya to think he has to lower his number of sessions as well. 

He does have some reservations about being so close to his parents for a month while at the cottage, but they have so far been allowing Shane to take the lead on what their relationship looks like, and Shane feels some small level of security knowing that his cabin’s locks have been re-installed and the security permissions at the gate in the front of the house have also been updated. 

He focuses on hockey, but ultimately his team is not able to pull themselves together enough.

The Metros do not make it past the Second Round, but the Raiders do.

In fact, they make it all the way to the Stanley Cup Finals, in which Shane attends every single game in a luxury suite purchased by an investor and filled with other elite athletes and celebrities. He hobnobs it with actors and football players and a few influencers he has never heard of, and doesn’t hold back cheering for Ilya in the least (though Shane’s version of ‘cheering’ is generally being an anxiety induced ball of rage, tapping his foot as fast as humanly possible and quietly muttering coaching tips as if Ilya could hear him).

When Ilya wins his second Stanley Cup, Shane cries, and he doesn’t really care who sees him. He has a brief flashback to Kip stepping onto the ice with Scott Hunter and for a moment wishes that could be him, too. But that thought quickly passes because it just isn’t how he wants their coming out to go.

He does, however, send Ilya an incredibly long text message about how proud he is. 

Shane: Ilya, holy shit! That was amazing. You deserve this. You worked so hard for this, and I know it wasn’t easy. I’m so proud of you. This has been the toughest year of my life, and you have stood by me endlessly, sacrificing so much. And yet here you are, a two-time Stanley Cup winner, proving literally nothing can stop you. You are the strongest, bravest, kindest, most hard working person I know, and I love you so much. 

The Raiders go out and party that night, and Ilya begs Shane to come, but Shane feels like his presence might dampen the spirits of the other Boston players. Instead he sneaks Ilya into a quiet area several doors down from the Raiders locker room, pounces on him and jumps into his arms, passionately kissing for as long as he thinks they can get away with. He then pulls back, adjusts himself in his pants, and heads back to Ilya’s apartment with strict instructions for Ilya to not come home before 4:00am. 

Ilya stumbles home drunk sometime right before the sun rises and passes out next to Shane, who wakes up and makes sure there’s water and Tylenol on Ilya’s bedside table. Then goes about the rest of his day since he’s awake anyway. 

He pulls out his bike from Ilya’s storage and goes for a miles long ride through Boston, paying attention to the different neighborhoods and the shops and cafes, wondering what his life might look like if he lived there. What cafes would he and Ilya grab lunch at, what yoga or reformer studio would he want to join, where are the specialty health food stores he can spend way too much money at?

Ilya is still passed out when Shane gets back, so he showers quietly and makes himself some food, putting a plate aside for Ilya in case he wants something when he wakes up. Then he shoots off an email to his new sports manager, sharing input about some brand deals and sharing his availability for a future meeting to discuss an offer Gatorade made. 

Ilya stumbles out of the bedroom at 2:00pm looking like absolute shit, scarfs down what has to be half a gallon of water, and then collapses on the couch. Shane laughs and asks if he wants anything to eat.

“Don’t say the word food unless you want me to ralph.”

“Duly noted.” 

Ilya passes out again and Shane just continues on with his day.

When Ilya is finally able to exist vertically he orders the greasiest lo mein Shane has ever seen and shoves it down his throat in the most unappetizing way, sauce dropping on his chest and noodles landing on his lap.

“Sexy,” Shane comments sarcastically.

“I think I’m dying.”

“Are you going out again tonight?” Shane asks.

“Yes,” Ilya replies.

Shane laughs. He remembers the week-long parties – the clubs, the VIP sections, eating cereal out of the Cup, partying at friends’ houses – and is momentarily comforted by not having to participate in any of that.

“I wish you could come,” Ilya says. “I mean, you can if you want. You should. I just meant more like, I wish people knew we were together.”

“Soon, yeah?” 

“Well,” Ilya responds evasively, “actually…”

He gets up and walks to his office, which is incredibly chaotic and more a private room for Ilya to listen to music, smoke cigarettes, and play computer games. He comes out holding a piece of computer paper, handing it to Shane.

U.S. Department of Homeland Security

U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services

NOTICE OF APPROVAL

Date: May 19, 2019

Receipt No: IOE194729573

Applicant: Ilya G. Rozanov

Dear Mr. Rozanov,

We are pleased to inform you that your application to register for lawful permanent residence has been approved.

Based on our review of the evidence submitted and the applicable provisions of United States immigration law, you have been granted Lawful Permanent Residence (LPR) status effective May 19, 2019.

As a lawful permanent resident of the United States, you are authorized to live and work permanently in the United States. Your Permanent Resident Card (commonly known as a Green Card) will be produced and mailed to the address you provided. Please allow approximately 30 days for delivery.

The letter continues, but Shane cannot keep reading, his vision blurry and his hands shaky.

“Are you serious?” he nearly whispers.

“Green card was delivered the other day.”

“Ilya,” Shane cries, jumping immediately into his boyfriend’s arms. “Are you fucking kidding me!”

“Nope,” Ilya says.

Shane keeps jumping, refusing to let go of Ilya. 

“So what I’m saying,” Ilya continues, “is, if you’re ready for it, people can know about us. No more Russia hanging over my head, I transferred the deed of the apartment to my brother and closed all my bank accounts in Russia except one small one. And…I officially signed my extension with Boston.”

Shane really does break down then. This is everything he has been waiting for – that good news he feels like he’s been due for. Things are finally going right in his life.

“Yes,” Shane says. “Fuck it. I’ll come tonight.”

“Really?!” Ilya asks.

“I mean, if you think it won’t be a shitshow.”

“It will definitely be a shitshow,” Ilya replies, “but not because of you. I plan on needing to be wheelbarrowed out of that place.”

“I’ll carry you out,” Shane promises, placing kisses against Ilya’s neck. Ilya shivers, and Shane keeps going.

“Shane, do not start something you cannot finish.”

“Oh, I can finish all right.”

He ends up being the one to pick Ilya up, hoisting his tired body off the ground and over a few feet to the couch, where Shane sets him down and tells him not to move and spends no less than twenty-five minutes worshipping Ilya’s body before even touching his cock. 

That night Shane ends up at a club he has never been to before, right alongside Ilya, and the world doesn’t implode. No one asks if they’re together, and they don’t dance too closely or make out or do anything major that might make it seem like they’re a couple. But they also don’t avoid each other. They spend the whole night together actually, sitting side by side, thighs touching, hands resting on the other’s leg furtively. They hang out at the bar, they dance only a foot apart nearby on the dancefloor, Ilya introduces him to half the team. Shane is pretty sure that the rumors about his sexuality have spread wider than just Montreal, but no one says anything. His presence, though it does cause some minor shock from some of the younger players particularly, seems to just be accepted. 

Shane’s curious how much Ilya has let slip previously to his team. 

He only has a few drinks because he knows Ilya was being serious about getting trashed, and Shane does, indeed, have to nearly carry him out of the club at the ass crack of dawn, pulling a joint out of his hand that he has no idea Ilya even had.

When he wakes up later that afternoon he grabs his phone, hoping to doom scroll a bit, and sees he has a few messages.

Rose told him to congratulate Ilya on her behalf. Jackie did the same.

And so did his parents.

Group Chat: Mom & Dad

Mom: Tell Ilya congrats on his second Cup! He played spectacularly well, won lots of puck battles against the boards. A few really smart breakout passes. 

Dad: He was all over the place. It was a fun series to watch. Yes, tell him congrats.

Shane hearts the messages but doesn’t reply, and he decides he will share their congratulations with Ilya when he’s awake. 

They go to the cottage a few days after Ilya’s partying concludes. They agree that they will go out to eat with Shane’s parents once while there, at a restaurant, and only during the week. Shane doesn’t want to waste a potential weekend night with them, and he doesn’t want to invite them into his and Ilya’s home. Ilya is happy to agree to whatever rules Shane’s set.

Shane gets to take the paddleboards out that Ilya bought him for Christmas, they go jet skiing together and spend hours hiking the different trails in the area. Shane takes Ilya out fishing, which Ilya hates and will only do once a year to appease Shane. He ends up getting bored forty-five minutes in and Shane drops him off with his book and a bag of snacks at a small rocky island and takes his boat a few hundred feet away so he can fish in peace for the next two hours while Ilya entertains himself.

Their days are filled with sleeping in, working out, enjoying various activities on the lake, and their nights are filled with boardgames, videogames, movies, dinners out in town, and having fun on Shane’s practice rink. They have sex wherever and whenever they want. It is the best summer Shane has truly ever had.

He documents it in pieces, not showing Ilya directly but showing the activities they do together, on his new, personal Instagram account, which has ballooned with followers since its creation right after the post season.

Two weeks into their stay, Shane asks Ilya to run into town to pick up an order from a local woodworker. Shane commissioned a walnut live edge shelf to put in the mudroom to replace a broken mass produced teak one that was already installed when he moved in. He at first thought he would like the modern look, but after it broke he realized he wanted something warmer and more natural.

While Ilya is gone, Shane sets up. Or, he tries to.

He sweeps the dock free of debris, but the wind is too much for him to put out the electric tea candles he planned on. Instead he decides to embrace the change in plans and accept that this is the reality he’s faced with today. He could wait for better weather, but he doesn’t want to.

He changes into khaki shorts and a light blue button up, secreting a small box into his pocket. 

He waits on the dock for Ilya to get home, and as predicted, Ilya carries the shelf into the house and immediately goes searching for Shane.

“Hey, sexy,” he says, sidling up behind Shane who is looking out at the lake.

“Hey,” Shane says, surprised by his own calmness. “Thanks for grabbing that.”

“It turned out great. So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

Shane turns to him. 

“I wanted to say something,” he starts. “I wanted to thank you, for the last two years. Obviously everything with my parents, and how patient you were, but also because of how much you’ve been willing to change your life for me. I know you didn’t want to stay in the closet, I know things have been really fucking stressful. But you’ve been amazing – you are amazing.”

“Shane,” Ilya says, emotion rising in his voice, and Shane is sure the cat’s out of the bag, but he has so much more he needs to say.

“I don’t want a life that you’re not in. I want to wake up to you every day and fall asleep with you every night. I know that day might be years away, but I also know that me and you, this is it. Whatever our life looks like, wherever we are playing, it still looks like us being together. Through thick and thin. You are the most important person in my life, and I have no idea how I got so lucky to find you. You have put up with all of my shit for a fucking decade, you’ve made my life more fun, you call me out on my bullshit and make me want to be a better person, you love me like no one else has, and I love you in ways I never thought possible. Being able to go through life with you, watch you smile, be there for you when you need me...You are such a generous person, to your core, you are funny and loving, and spending time with you is my favorite thing to do. Being with you is my favorite thing.

So,” Shane says, getting down on one knee. “Ilya Rozanov, best player in the MLH, number one draft pick, sexiest motherfucker in the league, kindest and smartest and sweetest asshole I have ever met, and the absolute love of my life, will you marry me?”

“Yes, you fucking dick,” Ilya says pulling Shane up and crashing their mouths together.

“I’m supposed to put the ring on your finger, I think,” Shane says in between kisses, his breath already short and labored.

Ilya pauses only long enough for Shane to slide the ring on before lifting him up and spinning them in a circle.

“Do you have one?”

“No, actually,” Shane says, feet returning to the ground. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to pick it out? I don’t really know how engagement rings go for us.”

“I’d like to help pick one out for you,” Ilya says, staring down at his finger. “This is nice,” he comments.

“Good.” Shane comes up behind Ilya and hooks his head over Ilya’s shoulder, arms around his waist, staring down at the ring. “I obviously had massive anxiety that I picked out the wrong one. It’s custom-made, actually. I figured we could design the wedding rings together.”

“That sounds perfect,” Ilya says, turning to kiss Shane, his hands on top of Shane’s on his waist.

“I have one more surprise,” Shane says. He walks over to a small, grassy area right off the side of the deck and pulls out from behind a pile of rocks a bottle of lube, tossing it to Ilya.

“We’ve never fucked on the dock, have we?” he coyly smiles.

“Oh fuck yes.”

A few days later, while playing footie in the yard, the sun shining on their shirtless backs, Shane tells Ilya that he made him his medical proxy.

“Your what?” Ilya asks, trying to juggle the ball before kicking it back to Shane.

“If I can’t make medical decisions for myself, like I’m in a coma or knocked out or some shit, you can make them for me.”

Ilya stays quiet, and Shane tries to steal the ball from him. 

“I also, uhm, am updating my will,” he adds. “Because I want you in it.”

“Your will?” Ilya asks. “Like, if you die?”

“I don’t plan on dying anytime soon. I just…everything was under my mom. We’re getting married and I trust you. I trust you to honor my wishes if I’m like, a vegetable in a hospital bed. And I want you to be the beneficiary of my stuff if I die.”

“This is a very heavy topic,” Ilya adds.

Shane scoots around Ilya, kicking the ball from in between his legs, and recovering it a few feet away.

“Yeah,” Shane acknowledges. 

Ilya comes up to him and Shane tries to retain possession of the ball, but Ilya bends down and picks it up.

“You have not updated your will yet, right?”

Shane shakes his head. “It’s something I’ll do sometime this summer. Before the season starts.”

“I think maybe we do it together, yeah? I should probably also update my stuff.”

They’re only a few inches apart, and Shane can see the worry on Ilya’s face.

“I don’t want to push you into it. I just…this is all part of me taking my life back, y’know? I didn’t realize how much control my mom really had of me. Plus, this feels like part of growing up. I have a partner now, I’m not a kid anymore.”

“Is that exactly,” Ilya comments. “We are adults. We are getting married. I think my dad is still on some of my paperwork. Or Alexei. When I created the trust for my niece I did it without updating my will. Now would be good time to do it, together, da?”

“Da,” Shane repeats, leaning forward and placing a light kiss on Ilya’s lips. 

“The joys of adulthood.”

“Oh yes, so fun. Growing up.”

Ilya places the ball back on the ground. “It will be nice to do it together though.”

He immediately pushes himself back into the game, and Shane chases after him trying to steal the ball from between his feet.

Things are not perfect, but perfect was never an option anyway Shane has realized.

Along with launching The Irina Foundation, Shane and Ilya come out that summer. They decide to soft launch their relationship – no heartfelt social media post, no magazine cover, no hired paparazzi. They just start holding hands, kissing each other, going on dates out in public. Ultimately they decide to just not hide anymore, and by the time pre-season starts, pictures of them together do end up being posted to both their Instagram accounts. Nothing scandalous. But when they exist in the other’s space, they end up in pictures together. And they want to share those pictures, and this little slice of their life, with the world. Now that Shane has his own personal social media accounts, he realizes how important it is to have some level of authenticity online, despite his deep seeded need to still maintain a strict level of personal privacy.

It of course ends up being a huge deal – even bigger than Scott Hunter’s coming out – because it’s two professional men's sports players playing in the same league – rivals even. It brings a lot of media attention and speculation, which gets really annoying really fast for Shane, but isn’t altogether too difficult to manage. Especially not with a management team as great as the one he has, a friend circle that will always have his back, and a partner at his side weathering the storm with him.

They do, of course, come out to their teams and friends and anyone else in their personal life first. Shane spends a few days calling and texting teammates and acquaintances that he wants to maintain relationships with, letting them in on this aspect of his life and forewarning them that it will be public information very soon. He also decides it makes sense to give his parents a heads up that he and Ilya are no longer hiding their relationship or sexuality, but he wants to wait just a little bit longer to do so. He doesn’t feel inclined to tell them anything about his life with haste. He will talk to his parents when it’s most convenient for him.

Shane and Ilya have lunch with them a few days after the engagement, right when they begin going fully public with their relationship. Shane spends a few weeks meditating on it, unsure if he is ready to open that specific door to them – in-person meetings. Ultimately he decides that he wants to see what will happen if they do get together. Have they grown and changed at all? Will he be able to face them without cowering? He feels like such a different person since the last time he saw them; he wants them to see that and recognize his growth and independence.

He does struggle deciding whether or not he should ask Ilya to come. A significant part of him wants to leave Ilya home; he has subjected Ilya to so much vitriol from his parents for years now, he doesn’t want to put him in harm’s way again. On the other side, he doesn’t want to feed fuel to the fire and have his parents think that his and Ilya’s relationship is struggling or that Ilya isn’t very involved in Shane’s life. He doesn't want to hide Ilya away, secreted back at their cabin as Shane tries to carve a new relationship with his parents.

Ultimately Ilya decides for him.

“I’m not letting you go there without me,” he says.

“You don’t get to make my decisions for me,” Shane points out.

Ilya sighs. “Fine. You are right. Let me rephrase what I was trying to say. I want to be there. I want to be there for you, but also mainly for me. I don’t want them to think they won and I ran away and am afraid of them. I want to look them in their eyes again.”

Shane takes a moment to think about Ilya’s words, to think about the trauma he still experiences having never been able to face his own father and fight back before his death. How he hasn’t yet been able to confront Alexei. He knows that Ilya trusts Shane to be alone with his parents without backsliding, but he also knows that Ilya has not had the chance to see his parents since Boxing Day and show them that he hasn’t run away or backed down.

“Alright,” he says. “If you want to come then I want you there.”

Ilya agrees to go completely at Shane’s pace and lets Shane be the one to decide what and how much Yuna and David get to know about their life together.

Ilya chooses on his own and without Shane’s input to move the engagement ring from his finger to his necklace, just for the lunch. Shane doesn’t want to tell his parents to their face at the same time both that he’s engaged and that he will be coming out publicly. He doesn’t want to have to see their facial expressions or watch them potentially struggle with the news or feel forced to offer insincere congratulations or try to look happier than they actually are. This is their first time being together since firing his mom, and he just wants to see how it will go without dropping more big news on them. He wants to see if they can get along, the four of them, under regular circumstances as a family. And he doesn’t want them to ruin the happiness he feels right now with being engaged. Everyone Shane has opened up to about his sexuality and relationship has offered kind words, if not outright excitement, and Shane’s riding on Cloud Nine. He wants it to stay that way.

He’s finally learning that just because they are his parents doesn’t mean that they deserve full, unadulterated access to all aspects of his life.

They all get through lunch fine, though it is awkward, like strangers meeting for the second time. Conversation is stilted with everyone walking on a tight rope hoping to stay within an invisible boundary of acceptable behavior. Shane doesn’t regret getting together, but he isn’t itching to do it again anytime soon. Everyone was able to remain cordial, he was able to share his plans to come out publicly, and his parents made an effort – too little, too late – to include Ilya in the conversation.

Two weeks later he texts them the news of his engagement and they respond positively, texting their congratulations. His mom tries to call, but Shane lets it go to voicemail. Not out of vindictiveness, but because he is much better at effectively knowing how to protect his peace.

Hayden, Jackie, and the kids come out to the cottage for a week, with JJ joining for a few days at the end of their visit, and Shane and Ilya have fun hosting everyone. Ilya even rents a moon bounce and sets it up in the yard so the Pike kids can have something extra special to do. Shane spends the week feeling so incredibly settled, knowing he can just be himself and no one will give a shit. He isn’t hiding anymore. He can go into town with Ilya and hold his hand, they can go out to dinner, hit up a golf course, argue over the merits of different granolas at the grocery store, and he doesn’t care if people catch them together.

There are a lot of unknowns in Shane’s future. He’s learning to deal with that and finding that he’s actually fully capable of it. 

He’s unsure what his relationship with his parents will be and what it will look like in the future, but he’s found an equilibrium that works well for him and Ilya. He has a group of friends who are there for him, whose support he relies on during the maelstrom of publicly coming out, and who are incredibly supportive of his relationship with Ilya. He finds that while he misses his parents, he doesn’t want them in his life in any significant way right now. Their absence in his life is no longer a sustained acute pain, but a dull throb that crests into something larger only occasionally. And when it does, he knows exactly how to cope with it.

He’s taking things one day at a time.

He still doesn’t know where he’s going to end up playing after his contract with the Metros ends after this upcoming season, but he has spoken to Farah and made his intent known. He will end up somewhere in Northeastern America, he’s sure of it. Farah is fielding meetings left and right, and if Shane gets his way he will end up in New York City, either with the Admirals or the Sounders. He and Ilya fantasize about getting a place in Connecticut and each holding onto an apartment in their respective cities, allowing them to spend most nights together. 

He’s still hoping for Boston, and Ilya did end up accepting a lower offer than Boston was offering, citing his hope that the remaining cap money can be used to “bolster the team with the addition of new talent.” It’s his biggest dream to play alongside Ilya, but Shane’s a little nervous to put all his faith in Boston bringing him onboard. If it doesn’t work out, he’d be devastated, so he is acknowledging now that there are several potential teams he could play on and still have what he wants. He is still working with Gabriel on how to be more flexible in his thinking and break down his frequent all-or-nothing thought patterns. 

No matter what, Shane will have multiple options available to him, and he’s willing to go with the flow. 

He finds that he enjoys working with his new management team, finding them to be incredibly adept at maintaining his contracts and growing his image. They draw no moral conclusions on Shane’s sexuality – a reprieve, considering all he had to deal with while his mother was managing him – and Shane enjoys the working relationship they have. The first time he sees Scott Hunter in person after he comes out, he thanks him profusely and suggests a double date whenever everyone’s calendars line up.

The most important thing to Shane right now is his relationships; nothing can get between him and Ilya, and they’ve been enjoying planning a wedding for next summer. He and Hayden are as tight as ever, and he always has Jackie, JJ, and Rose on his side. Harleson has become an unlikely ally and one of the strongest voices against homophobia in the locker room. More and more people have reached out to him after he and Ilya went public, thanking him and sharing their own stories. Not just regular people, but professional athletes, too. Current and former players from all different sports.

And when the MLH season starts, and he and Ilya travel back and forth to visit each other whenever their free time allows, Shane finally gets what he has always wanted: Saturday bike rides to the coffee shop, Sunday hikes, Thursday yoga – all with Ilya by his side. 

The Irina Foundation ends up being a happy respite for misfits and losers, loners and nerds – anyone needing to find a home in hockey. The person they hire to run the Foundation, Max Riley, is a former Team Canada women’s hockey player who, after coming out as transgender and medically transitioning to male, was forced to leave hockey behind, choosing instead to get a Master of Social Work degree. He brings not only an immense amount of hockey knowledge and skill, but also a depth of heart and understanding, fiscal prowess and tenacious networking know-how, and the capability to manage a team with care and finesse.

Shane and Ilya feel The Irina Foundation is truly in the best of hands and have loved the diverse group of people that the Board of Directors and Max have put together to run it. He and Ilya are excited for its future and can't wait to get the camps started.

Two years ago Shane was scared and confused, struggling to live a life that other people wanted for him. He had to hide the most important person in his life, pretend to be someone he wasn’t, and put his life on pause to make other people happy.

He won’t be doing that anymore. From now on he lives life for himself, as himself. 

With Ilya by his side.

Chapter End Notes

It has been really fun to go on this journey with everyone, and the comments you've left and personal stories you've shared have been incredibly touching.

I know that some people won't be happy with not knowing where Shane ends up playing, but I do have my reasons for that. First and foremost, I am not a fan of writing "One Year Later Epilogues." So much happens to these two over the next year, and just skipping over it to give everyone a peek into their future lives felt disingenuous, especially as I did have to fast track some things at the end of the story (the founding of The Irina Foundation, the end of their hockey seasons etc). I also do like the open ended nature of this, because I want to sit in the fact that Shane doesn't know where he will be and he is actually okay with this. But also, there's been a small part of me that has considered picking this story back up and writing a sequel, potentially in Ilya's POV. And if that does happen, I want to allow myself the freedom to play and explore in this world more. (Though yes, I do know where Shane ends up. And I knew it from the minute I wrote the first sentence of this story.)

I am working on another story, another AU, and while I have no idea when or if I will finish it, I do know that I have felt really inspired to write more because of how generous you have all been with your comments, feedback, and hype. It's been a very long time since I've delved into the world of fic writing, and the response has been beyond my wildest dreams. It's been fun to create again, and visit some of my favorite characters in various scenarios. This fandom is truly large, in charge, and willing to give even small fic writers like me a chance. So thank you!

I hope I did you all justice with this last chapter, and that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!