Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, David Hollander, Yuna Hollander

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, POV Ilya Rozanov, Episode: s01e06 The Cottage (Heated Rivalry), Angst with a Happy Ending, David Hollander Finds Out About Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Yuna Hollander Finds Out About Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Good Parents David Hollander/Yuna Hollander, Coming Out

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-03-11 Completed: 2026-04-02 Words: 11,299 Chapters: 2/2

opalite

Summary

Shane isn’t answering the door. Ilya assumes that’s because he hasn’t heard the knock on the door. Music is playing through the open door between the bedroom and the hallway. Ilya knows that Shane doesn’t really know music and definitely isn’t particular about it, which means he’s doing this for Ilya.

Ilya wills his feet to move. After a few seconds they do. They feel heavy, like there are weights tied to them, but they bring Ilya to the front door, so he’s not complaining. He opens the door slowly and tries smiling at the man, presumably David Hollander, in front of him.

“Hello,” presumably David Hollander says in a low voice. “I’m looking for Shane.”

In a retelling of 'David finds Shane and Ilya in episode 6,' David arrives a couple of minutes later and as a result doesn't see Shane and Ilya making out. Shane and Ilya get to discuss coming out to Shane's parents on their own terms.

Chapter 1: a storm inside a teacup

The cottage is everything Ilya wants it to be.

At first, Ilya needs to get used to everything. It isn’t just the idea that for the first  time since he’s eighteen years old, he isn’t going back to Moscow in the summer after a winter spent in Boston. It’s also Shane. It’s Canada and Ottawa. But foremost, it’s Moscow on his mind, in that Ottawa is decidedly not.

Moscow is Ilya’s hometown. It represents his birthright and his duty. It’s a city that’s antiquated and modern at the same time; old and new architecture, a city held back by its own history, yet overtaken by modern ideas of what a metropolitan area is supposed to be like. 

It’s the city that Ilya grew up in and subsequently left behind for Boston. It’s stifling and uncomfortable, but in a way that’s annoyingly familiar. 

It was also Ilya’s summer vacation tradition, his offseason destination, until Shane Hollander carelessly threw a wrench in those plans. And now Ilya is in Ottawa of all places, where he has a man in his bed (or, rather, Ilya is in that man’s bed), in his work-outs and his days. His quiet, calm and sun-filled days, that relax Ilya’s body and brain both. An anomaly.

Shane promised him two weeks of quiet. Of time to relax and have fun. On the day-to-day, Ilya has plenty of fun and doesn’t relax at all. He isn’t used to the two coinciding, but Shane manages to make it happen. Easily. 

Is this what it’s like? To just be with someone? To trust someone? 

To understand that for two weeks, the small bubble they created is just theirs, safe and secure? 

It’s completely uncharted territory, but at the same time, it’s as easy as ice skating. It’s terrifying, but it’s exhilarating. It’s perfect.

It’s bound to go wrong eventually, such as life goes.

Shane’s cottage represents safety to Ilya. Safety to speak his mind. Safety to be exactly who he is. After whispered and shared ‘I love yous’, after the making of future plans, after making love in the morning light, Ilya finally fully relaxes into it. It doesn’t kill him. Not anymore. 

He has Shane now. And Shane has him.

They just surfaced from the lake. They dried off, dried each other off and made out. Shane is a man that likes his systems and rituals, or so Ilya has learned, though Shane claims to be looser with it now that it’s the offseason. Regardless, when his man says that it’s almost time for a meal, it’s smarter not to get in his way. They discuss what they want to eat on the way back to the cottage. Ilya lounges in one of the chairs in the backyard as Shane gets dressed first. Shane heads into the kitchen like a man on a mission. It’s better not to disturb him. Much.

Ilya presses a kiss on Shane’s cheek as he passes through the kitchen and then walks into the bedroom they share. He should at least wash the water out of his curls, but he also reckons there’s no point in that if he’s just going back into the water after their meal anyway. He does want to change, though. He should at least wear a shirt for their meal together.

Ilya borrowed (stole) a button-up that belonged to Shane, so that’s what he lays out on his side of the bed first. He pairs it with a black T-shirt. The first time that Ilya showed up in something that was actually Shane’s (a crewneck sweater to stave off the evening cold), Shane’s cheeks went pink and he smiled softly, so Ilya assumes he’s alright with it. Ilya is hoping to sneak a few clothes of his in with Shane’s clothes, but that’s a mission for later.

He walks into the bathroom to freshen up and at least get the outdoorsy smell of the water off of him slightly. He’ll properly shower and deal with his curls when they decide they’re done going into the lake for the day, he decides. 

Shane’s bedroom is surrounded with windows with a view on the front and the right side of the cottage. The right side of the cottage is mostly nature with a small path so they can walk around the cottage if necessary. The front of the cottage is a driveway with light pebbles and a ridiculous statue of a moose that Ilya already made fun of once. Shane wanted to close the blinds the first time they were together there, but Ilya told him absolutely not. They could be in the daylight here, so they should be. There was no hiding in the cottage. 

It’s something he comes to regret for Shane’s sake when he walks back into the bedroom. 

His eye falls on a second car on the driveway when he looks through the front windows. The only car that is supposed to be here is Shane’s boring, practical, good-in-the-snow car that Ilya has opinions about. Now there is a second car standing on the driveway, which is also boring and presumably practical and good in the snow. It’s a similar car. 

He looks to the left immediately, in the direction of the front door, and sees a man walking towards it. Ilya wants to guess he’s in his fifties. He’s not very tall, though Ilya has been told that measuring other people up against himself and considering everyone that’s smaller than him ‘not tall’ is ridiculous. He has greying hair, a broad frame and is wearing a button-up with long pants, like he’s a businessman that’s trying vacation for the first time and does not have the proper attire for it.

The man climbs the stairs leading to the front door and knocks. He waits a beat, looking straight ahead, and then looks at the rest of the front of the house. He starts at the left, where he should see Shane into the kitchen, and then slowly looks to the right.

Ilya realises too late he has an opportunity to hide. If he drops now he might be hidden behind the bed. If he makes a sprint and then a jump for it he could make it to the bathroom. 

The man looks at him. Ilya is too late.

Ilya is still only in swimming shorts. His hair is messed up by the lake water and tousled by the towel. Shane probably had his fingers in it at some point too. He’s barefooted and shirtless, standing in Shane’s bedroom. 

Well. It’s going to be hard to talk himself out of this one. Shane is going to kill him for the ‘leave the blinds open during the day’ policy he suggested.

In Ilya’s defence, they shouldn’t have anything to hide. No one should be here. They should be sheltered. Shane is supposed to be on his silent retreat. They are supposed to be safe. Secure.

They’re not. Ilya feels like Ottawa is Moscow all over again.

Shane isn’t answering the door. Ilya assumes that’s because he hasn’t heard the knock on the door. Music is playing through the open door between the bedroom and the hallway. Ilya knows that Shane doesn’t really know music and definitely isn’t particular about it, which means he’s doing this for Ilya. 

It also means that Ilya has to let the man in, presumably David Hollander, before he does it himself. Shane would be the type of person to give his parents keys to his cottage, after all. Presumably David Hollander would be the type of man to use those keys if he saw a strange man standing in his son’s bedroom.

Ilya wills his feet to move. After a few seconds they do. They feel heavy, like there are weights tied to them, but they bring Ilya to the front door, so he’s not complaining. He opens the door slowly and tries smiling at the man, presumably David Hollander, in front of him.

“Hello,” presumably David Hollander says in a low voice. “I’m looking for Shane.”

No shit, Ilya wants to say, but nothing comes out. Usually he has no problem saying the first thing that he thinks of, but right now that particular habit is malfunctioning. That’s probably for the better.

“My phone requires a charger that we don’t have at our place,” presumably David Hollander explains when Ilya just stands there and doesn’t say anything. “And I also realised we were out of dishwasher tablets. I was hoping that Shane might have those as well.”

The radio is playing something French that Ilya vaguely recognises. Shane could probably translate it for him word for word without a single mistake. Ilya likes it (the song, not Shane’s French, though he likes that too), but he knows he has no chance of remembering it so he can find it later.

“Yes, come on in,” Ilya says at last. “Shane is in kitchen.”

He steps aside to let certainly David Hollander in. Ilya closes the door behind him and then leads the way towards the kitchen, as if certainly David Hollander hasn’t been here far more often than Ilya has and needs him to do that. 

Shane is standing by the stove, his eyes focused on the pasta he’s making. His hips are lightly swaying to the rhythm of the music, almost involuntarily. He’s adorable. He’s relaxed and comfortable. Ilya wants to slide up behind him and kiss his neck and laugh in his ear when Shane inevitably complains that Ilya is distracting him. 

“Shane,” Ilya says. “Your father is here.”

The change in Shane’s body language is instant. He stiffens and his expression goes carefully neutral before he looks over at Ilya and certainly David Hollander.  

David Hollander tells Shane the same thing about the charger and the dishwasher tablets. Ilya thinks he knows exactly which charger he means. It’s in one of the baskets by the TV cabinet. Ilya has walked past it every day and wondered once or twice why Shane kept it since they don’t use those types of phones anymore, but quickly realised it was probably just Shane being careful with chargers. Now he knows why: because his father might need to use it.

Sure enough, Shane points towards the TV cabinet. “It’s in one of the baskets, Dad,” he says, his voice as neutral as his expression. “The dishwasher tablets are in the pantry. You can take a package of them.”

David Hollander doesn’t make a move towards either the pantry or the TV cabinet, though. He’s still standing there, on the threshold towards the kitchen. Ilya, for his part, hasn’t moved either, but he’s not the one that came here because he needed items.

“Who is your friend, Shane?” he asks.

Shane looks at Ilya like a scared animal. Ilya desperately wants to soothe it, but he knows that moving towards Shane now is not something he wants to do. He needs to look like he has no reason whatsoever to want to be in Shane’s space. They’re friends, just like David Hollander said.

“This is Ilya,” Shane says slowly. “Rozanov.”

David Hollander turns to look at him and offers his hand for Ilya to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr Rozanov,” he says. “I’m David Hollander, Shane’s father.”

Ilya shakes his hand and smiles at him. He knows what to do now. Put on an act to make it very clear they are friends. Just friends, thank you very much. Shane has just been very nice to his rival, because that is who he is. 

“Hello, Mr Hollander,” he says. “Shane invited me to his cottage when he found out I was not going back to Moscow this summer. He wanted me to get to know Canada.”

“And how are you finding Canada, Mr Rozanov?” David Hollander asks.

“With a map,” Ilya deadpans. “Or GPS, maybe.”

Much to Ilya’s surprise, that’s exactly the type of humour that David Hollander appreciates. He laughs genuinely, a low sound, and for a moment Shane looks a lot like him. 

Ah. That’s where Shane gets some of his playful side from. Not just his boring side, then.

“I do not think Shane thought this plan through,” Ilya tells David Hollander conspiratorially, working his hardest to seem normal. “All I have seen of Canada is this cottage. Is nice, but probably not, what is the word -”

“Representative?” David Hollander offers.

“Yes,” Ilya says. “It is not like Montreal at all. Or Toronto. But is nice.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Mr Rozanov,” David Hollander says jovially. “Let me grab the charger and the dishwasher tablets and I’ll leave you boys to it.”

Ilya steps aside to let David Hollander pass by. He lingers by the mostly unused dinner table and doesn’t look at either Shane or David Hollander. The music changes to an English song that Ilya definitely doesn’t know. David Hollander passes him by again, this time on his way to the pantry, charger already in his hand.

When he reappears, he says: “I can find the way out. Thank you, Shane. I won’t disturb you again, I promise. It was nice to meet you, Mr Rozanov.”

“It wasn’t a problem, Dad,” Shane says weakly. 

Ilya doesn’t believe him. He isn’t even sure that Shane is trying to be believable, if he’s being honest. And if Ilya doesn’t believe him, he doubts that David Hollander will.

“It was nice to meet you too,” Ilya says politely.

David Hollander’s footsteps fade away. The front door opens and closes. Ilya imagines he descends the stairs in front of the front door and walks over the pebbles back to his boring car. Ilya can hear the engine of the car starting. David Hollander drives away.

Shane is counting the seconds until he trusts that David Hollander is really gone. Ilya can see it in the way he holds himself. The way he’s bursting at the seams but is desperately holding back, because he cannot possibly give up anything else to his father right now. He can’t wait but he needs to wait and therefore he gives himself a time limit of seconds. 

Three…

Two…

One.

Ilya is off by a second when Shane starts to talk.

“I told my parents that I was doing a silent retreat meditation thing. No visitors for two weeks. And I told them to stay away. And now they know you’re here and I’m clearly not silent or doing meditation.” 

Shane’s panic is palpable. He’s keeping his eyes on the pasta he’s making, but Ilya can’t tell whether that’s because he doesn’t want to burn it or because he can’t look Ilya in the eye right now.

Before Ilya can say anything, Shane barrels on. “This is not good, Ilya. This is bad. Where were you when my father was at the door? In the bathroom? Why did you open the door?”

The words aren’t accusatory. Instead, Ilya knows that Shane is genuinely looking to understand the situation. Shane wants to know what happened before he can make a plan. Ilya recognises the signs from the ‘Ilya wants to move to Canada and I want Ilya to move to Canada’ plan, when Shane asked his questions and then made a ten-year plan in the span of an hour while Ilya was asleep next to him.

“I walked back into bedroom from bathroom,” Ilya says. “He knocked. You did not hear. I thought about hiding, but he saw me already.”

“You should never have to hide,” Shane says. “The point of the cottage is that we could be together, not that you’d have to wait in the bathroom until my father left.”

“He was not supposed to be here,” Ilya says.

“I know, I know.” Shane turns the stove to a far lower setting before hiding his head in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he says, muffled through his hands.

Ilya makes his way over to Shane. He gently turns him around and then wraps his arms around him. “Is okay,” he says softly. “You did not know.”

Shane lets himself be held. Ilya is considering that a good sign. If Shane was truly stressed out and panicking he would be fidgeting and pacing. Right now he’s curled up against Ilya, seeking comfort, and he even wraps an arm around Ilya in return. Ilya hears him breathe in and out deeply, grounding himself.

Then Shane lets go and starts to pace the length of the kitchen. Ah. There it is.

“So he walks in here and he sees you in my bedroom. And you’re here. I never said you would be here. Why would I not tell them you would be here unless I had something to hide?”

He’s definitely spiraling. It’s a good thing that Ilya has answers to all of his questions, including the ones he hasn’t asked yet.

“I was in your bedroom because I was borrowing clothes,” Ilya says. “Friends do this, yes? I am stupid man who did not prepare for Canadian weather. You are kind man to let me borrow your clothes.” 

“And,” he continues, “you did not tell them because of rivalry. Because of the story. The - what do you call?” He gestures in Shane’s direction.

“Narrative,” Shane supplies.

“Yes, the narrative,” Ilya says, nodding. “People need to know we are rivals. Is easier. You would get lot of questions if your parents knew you were friends with Boston captain. You just had a concussion. Not a good time for lot of questions.”

“You really think they think that?” Shane asks tentatively.

“Hollander, what is alternative?” Ilya asks. “That we are fucking? Nobody will think that. More likely that your parents think that you kidnapped me to run drills with you on your fake hockey rink.”

“Nobody will believe that I kidnapped you,” Shane says. “It’s more like you forced me to take you to the cottage.”

Ilya gets a flash of a concussed and very hopped up on painkillers Shane Hollander in the hospital room in Montreal. The one that wasn’t mad at Cliff Marlow for ending his season, but for ruining his grand proposal: come to the cottage with me. It was before they knew about Scott Hunter and his Kip, of course. Shane was braver than Ilya. Shane had less to lose than Ilya, but Ilya actually thinks he’s afraid of losing something that he already lost.

Ilya can’t let Shane’s cottage become his personal form of Ilya’s Moscow, but Ilya also can’t push it. Shane has to come to that conclusion naturally. He has to do it himself. Ilya just needs to be there to support him.

“I am far too talkative to be kidnapped,” Ilya says in agreement. “I will critique everything they do. I will talk so much that the kidnappers will pay to get rid off me.”

Shane laughs a little, something that Ilya considers a victory. He’s the slightest bit more relaxed now. He heads back towards the stove, turning it back up, and sighs deeply.

“I’m sure I’ll get a message soon,” he says. “But we’re friends. And it’s okay that they know that.”

Ilya shudders to think what David Hollander could have walked into if he’d been five minutes earlier. Shane, pressed against the glass of the back of the house. Ilya, pressing him into the glass of the back of the house. Shane’s fingers in Ilya’s hair. Ilya’s hands probably on Shane’s ass. They would be making out. Grinding against each other, maybe. 

Yes, Ilya standing in the bedroom is a far better sight than that.

 

---

 

After their pasta for dinner and an early evening swim, they shower separately. Ilya is intent on giving Shane some space to process the day. Shane seems fine, but Ilya knows how he internalises everything. They agreed the day that Ilya arrived at the cottage that they would be honest about their feelings, but if Shane doesn’t know how he’s feeling yet he can’t share it with Ilya either.

When he walks back into the living room, some of the blinds are down. The lights surrounding the couch and the coffee table are turned on but the ceiling lamp is turned off, making it feel like a comfortable atmosphere. What furthers the comfortable atmosphere is the two drinks on the coffee table (a ginger ale for Shane, of course, and a coke for Ilya) and the blankets slung over the couch, one for each of them.

He finds Shane settled on the couch with what Ilya assumes is a boring hockey book. Ilya came across a number of ice hockey biographies, books describing a specific season of hockey or even books about a team over a specific time period in the days he’s been here so far. Shane really knows what he likes and what he likes is hockey.

No wonder he’s in love with the best hockey player currently in the NHL, Ilya reasons.

Shane looks up from his book. He’s wearing a shirt he definitely stole from Ilya. He looks good. 

“Why didn’t you want to shower together?” Shane asks.

“Ah, I understand you can never get enough of me,” Ilya replies. “Do not worry, Hollander. I will fuck you in bed before sleep tonight.” 

Shane rolls his eyes at him. “Seriously,” he says. “Usually you don’t miss an opportunity to have your dick sucked.”

He’s not wrong. Ilya loves showering with Shane. They both look hot while wet, an objective fact that apparently the producer of the many advertisement shoots that Shane does has figured out as well. The shower is easier for handjobs or blowjobs because the mess it could make is cleaned away with the running water. 

“I needed to rinse out my curls,” Ilya says as he flops down beside Shane, immediately getting in his space. “You would only have distracted me. I am serious about looking good.”

“You always look good,” Shane says almost instantly.

Ilya leans into him to kiss him for it. He steals Shane’s book, but he does make sure to put Shane’s marker on the correct page before he puts the book down on the coffee table. Then he pulls Shane against him. Shane goes willingly, happily curling up against Ilya, and Ilya presses a kiss to his hair.

“I did miss you in the shower,” he tells Shane.

Shane grins. “Told you.”

Shane fidgets with the sleeve of Ilya’s shirt for a moment, folding the edge over and folding it back. Ilya can tell he wants to say something or maybe ask something, but is struggling to find the words. It’s something that Ilya can very much relate to because English is a hard language, but he knows that isn’t Shane’s problem right now. The problem is that he might not have the words yet.

Well, Ilya is happy to sit here and cuddle with him and give him space to figure it out. He isn’t going to push. He isn’t going to let the cottage become Shane’s version of Ilya’s Moscow. He hopes and he has to believe that Shane’s parents won’t do that either, when it comes down to it. Not every parent is like Grigori Rozanov. Ilya’s mother wasn’t like that either.

“I was thinking,” Shane starts tentatively. “That maybe we could have my parents over at the cottage. For dinner, maybe?”

Ilya hums softly. “What happened to your silent meditation retreat?”

“They already know that’s not true,” Shane says with a sigh. “I feel like I owe them an explanation about you being here. I lied about it and now they know I did.”

“So you are going to have them over for dinner and tell them you are friends with Ilya Rozanov, your rival?” Ilya asks.

Shane doesn’t reply. Ilya assumes that’s because he hears how ridiculous it sounds. Shane doesn’t need to host a dinner to tell his parents he’s friends with a man who he played against multiple times per year for almost ten years now. Friendships in the leagues are very common. It’s not like they don’t see each other outside of games either. They both tend to get invited to the All-Stars Weekend and the NHL Awards at the end of the season as well. 

“I was thinking,” Shane tries again, “that maybe I could tell them about me.”

“About you?” Ilya echoes.

“About me being gay,” Shane says. “You were right earlier. They don’t need to know who I’m seeing if I tell them I’m gay. And I’m sure they’ll be fine with it.”

He sounds like he’s convincing himself. Ilya doesn’t like that at all.

Ilya doesn’t know David and Yuna Hollander. Well, he knows nothing beyond what Shane told him. They sound like good people. They always supported Shane. And David didn’t respond weirdly when he saw Ilya at Shane’s cottage. He made small talk with Ilya and laughed at his jokes. Ilya wants to see that as a good thing. He wants this to go well for Shane.

“I never -” Ilya starts and then stops, swallowing hard. He’s sure Shane knows what he means. “My father would have hated it, probably. Me being into men. But part of me thinks I would have preferred that he knew and hated it, instead of that he doesn’t know.”

“Ilya,” Shane says immediately, voice full of emotion. Ilya can feel him move next to him before he appears in Ilya’s view. 

Shane settles on his lap and wraps his arms around Ilya. He presses a kiss to Ilya’s hair before he leans back enough to look at him. 

“My mother might not have hated it,” Ilya continues. His hands come up to support Shane’s lower back. “She would have loved you. I know that deep inside of me. She could have been up the fence, maybe -”

“On the fence,” Shane corrects him softly, looking at him without looking away.

Ilya laughs a little despite himself. “On the fence,” he repeats, “but she would have met you and she would have understood. Because you are a very nice Canadian boy that everyone loves.”

“And also boring,” Shane adds, a small grin on his face.

“Yes,” Ilya agrees before leaning in to briefly kiss him. “Very boring. Too perfect. But your parents, they love you as well. You have told me this. Your father was nice when he was here earlier.”

“He was,” Shane agrees. “And they do love me. But I’ve been lying to them for so long, Ilya. I don’t know how they will take it.”

“So are you afraid of how they will respond because you are gay, or are you afraid of how they will respond because you lied about being gay?” Ilya asks.

“Both, I think,” Shane says.

“Shane, solnyshko,” Ilya addresses him. “You cannot tell someone information that you do not know yourself, yes?”

“What do you mean?” Shane asks.

“I mean,” Ilya starts before sighing himself as well. This is not his favourite topic of conversation by any stretch of imagination. In fact, he would much rather avoid it. But this is for Shane, so he carries on. “I assume you did not fuck Rose Landry thinking you were gay, yes?”

It isn’t Shane’s favourite topic of conversation either according to the face he pulls. “I mean, I had an inkling!” he says. 

Ilya doesn’t know what the word ‘inkling’ means, but before he can ask for a definition Shane is already continuing to talk. 

“But I wouldn’t have dated her if I knew for sure,” Shane concedes. “This is not a nice thing to say, and I know that, but I wanted to be someone who would date her. I thought I could be. But I couldn’t.”

“And that is when you knew, yes?” Ilya asks gently. “That was only a short time ago, Shane. You do not have to tell your parents things when they happen. You tell them when you want to. When you can. Does not mean you lied.”

Shane buries his head against Ilya’s shoulder. Ilya pulls him closer on his lap and sneaks a hand into his hair. He kisses the side of his head and lets him rest his body against Ilya’s body, giving him space to order his thoughts again. 

“I lied to them about you,” Shane says, his voice muffled against Ilya’s shoulder.

“Ah, no,” Ilya says with all the conviction in the world of someone who doesn’t actually know. “We were both scared for a very long time. There was nothing to tell for a very long time.”

“And now there is,” Shane says after leaning back and looking back at Ilya.

It’s a statement, not a question. Shane says it as confidently as Ilya corrected him a moment ago. They’re both comfortable with the other person and confident in the plan for the future they made. They want each other. It’s hard and complicated and will be harder and more complicated for Shane to explain to his parents. 

But wanting to be with Shane and being with Shane is also the easiest and most simple thing Ilya has ever done. 

“Yes, so now you tell them. Now that we know this, we are just afraid of their reaction,” Ilya surmises.

“We?” Shane asks.

“Yes,” Ilya says. “You are not alone, Shane. You are not doing this alone unless you want to. I can hide in your bedroom if you want me to. You can bring me food and suck me off for more courage.”

Shane lightly shoves him and shakes his head, though he also can’t get the grin off his face. “Are you implying your dick has magic courage powers, Rozanov?”

“Not implying. Is the truth. Have you not noticed this? You are expert.”

“Jesus Christ.” Shane throws his head back, sighing like Ilya being a little horny during the evening isn’t a regular Tuesday for him. If it isn’t yet, it sure is going to be.

“Have your parents ever given you signals that they might not be okay with you being gay?” Ilya asks a question that he asked earlier this week as well. He wants Shane to hear himself give this answer again.

“No,” Shane repeats. “They would be okay, I think. It’s still the you component of it all that has me the most worried.”

And Ilya has an answer to that too, because of course he does. “Your father met me today. He thinks I am charming and very funny. Your mother will  love me as well. They already know we are friends now.”

“Not everyone is as charmed by you as you think, Rozanov,” Shane mutters.

Ilya understands what he means. It’s one thing to accept that your son is gay, but a whole other thing to accept that your son is in love with his rival of ten years, who is known for having a girl in every city he visits. Shane would never say it in those words, but it’s definitely the problem. It might just be his reputation, but it was also the truth until the All-Stars game this year. The moment that his relationship with Shane veered into ‘two people that are committed to each other’ territory, Ilya stopped sleeping around. It was Shane and no one else since then.

He knows that. Shane knows that. But Ilya is always happy to let other people get the wrong impression of him. It’s just easier. He can’t do that with David and Yuna Hollander, which makes the prospect of meeting them all the more daunting.

“Maybe you just tell them about you,” Ilya offers. “And I can be supportive friend. Or hide in bedroom anyway.”

“No,” Shane says, looking at Ilya with so much emotion that Ilya finds it hard to look at him, but even harder to look away. “I want to tell them with you. And I want to tell them about you.” Then he quickly backtracks: “If you want that as well, I mean.” 

In this case, Ilya wants what Shane wants. He wants Shane to be okay. He wants Shane to feel comfortable. He doesn’t want Shane to go through what he went through. 

“Then we tell them together,” Ilya says. 

He touches a hand to Shane’s cheek and kisses him once more. Shane smiles at him, cautious and almost as though he’s not quite certain of the situation.

“You are very brave,” Ilya tells him. “Your parents should be proud. I am proud.”

Shane doesn’t respond, but he wraps his arms around Ilya instead. Ilya holds him close and prays to a deity he doesn’t believe in that tomorrow will go well for Shane. He needs it to. He really needs it to. For Shane.

Chapter 2: come shelter here with me, my love

The next morning starts like most mornings start at Shane’s cottage: slow and warm. The sun is shining through the windows where the curtains haven’t reached and warming their skins where they aren’t covered by the sheets. There is no alarm clock to warn them of the time or any hurry to get up. Their phones are laying screen-down on their respective nightstands, a further indication of how calm the atmosphere is.

Shane is wrapped around Ilya, one hand on Ilya’s chest, seemingly more awake than he is but just as unable to get out of bed just yet. When Ilya slowly opens his eyes and glances aside though, he immediately recognises Shane’s expression. He’s overthinking. He already ran multiple scenarios in his head of whatever he’s worried about. He probably already thought of another ten year plan dependent on how his parents are going to respond to the news he wants to tell them.

“Moya lyubov,” Ilya addresses him, his voice still thick with sleep.  “You are thinking very loud.”

Shane’s gaze goes to Ilya immediately. Ilya assumes that Shane could have felt him wake, considering how close they are together, but he’s probably been drifting for a bit, nearer to being awake than being asleep. Most mornings at the cottage Ilya feels the need to drift because he wakes thinking this can’t be real, but then he opens his eyes and realises that it is. That motivates him to wake up and be with Shane immediately, if he’s not in bed with Ilya anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Shane says. “Did I wake you?”

Ilya leans up to kiss him, ignoring the fact that they both have morning breath. “No, you did not wake me,” he says. “How long have you been awake?”

Shane makes a noncommittal gesture with the hand not on Ilya’s chest. “I don’t know,” he says. “Not too long, I think.”

It’s a vague answer that doesn’t reassure Ilya at all, but he doesn’t tell Shane that. He slowly rolls over, pulling Shane along, and wraps both of his arms around Shane. He presses a kiss to Shane’s forehead and nuzzles in his hair for a moment.

“Did I not wear you out enough last night?” he asks then.

He can hear Shane chuckle, probably despite himself. “No, no, it’s not that,” Shane says. “I’m just worried. I know it’s stupid, it’s -”

“It is not stupid, Shane,” Ilya responds, for once not waiting. He wants to let Shane finish his sentence, but he doesn’t want to let Shane talk himself down. Not now that he needs the confidence more than ever. “You are smart man making smart decision.”

“It still feels stupid,” Shane emphasizes. “I’m scared. I know it’s not likely that they aren’t going to take it well, but the small percentage that exists that they won’t take it well makes me terrified. It makes me worry and it makes me doubt. But I also want to tell them. And I definitely don’t want to hide you.”

“Maybe you take it slow,” Ilya suggests. “You invite them for dinner, yes? And then you tell them you are gay. You do not need to mention me. Just that I am friend that you invited. You did not want me to go to Moscow.”

Shane’s hesitation is visible in his expression. Ilya knows he just said that he didn’t want to hide him, but Ilya thinks he’s making it too big for himself now. He needs to see his parents’ acceptance, which Ilya has to believe will be their response, and understand they aren’t mad or disappointed, before taking it a step further and mentioning Ilya.

“Don’t you think it’s obvious, with you being here and all?” Shane asks.

Ilya shrugs. “Two people from the same gender live together all the time, Shane. Rent is bad these days, yes?”

“We don’t live together,” Shane says with a sigh. “And neither one of us rents!”

“Okay, you and Hayden often share a hotel room. Are you sleeping with Hayden?”

Shane turns, faceplants into the pillow and groans. It’s absolutely endearing. It’s admittedly very funny. It’s also the dramatic response of a man who’s getting distracted by Ilya’s dislike of Hayden Pike.

“I never should have let you give me a blowjob with Hayden on the phone,” he says, the words muffled.

“You loved it,” Ilya argues.

Shane turns back to face him and shakes his head, but he is smiling. “I did,” he admits. “God, it was one of the hottest things we ever did. And we will never do that again.” He’s trying to be strict and failing by a mile.

“Next time I do it with your mother on the phone, so you better tell them.”

“Ilya!”

Shane pushes him with his back against the mattress and gets on top of him, carefully climbing onto his lap. Both of them slept naked, neither seeing the point in putting on any clothes in this weather and in their current company, and presumably assuming that they won’t need clothes after waking.

Shane has complained about morning breath once or twice, but that was before their big talk and their shared I love you’s. Ever since it hasn’t been a problem. Ilya knows it’s called the honeymoon phase and that it’s only for now. He knows he’s set himself up for a lifetime of having to brush his teeth and getting back into bed afterwards if he wants to kiss his partner. That’s okay, though. Kissing Shane is worth it.

As proof of the honeymoon phase, Shane leans over Ilya and kisses him. He is, as ever, careful not to put his full weight on Ilya, so Ilya pulls him in closer with a hand on his lower back and the other arm wrapped around him.

Shane kisses not like a man that wants a distraction from the outside world, but like a man that already knows that the bedroom is far superior to the outside world. His hands go in Ilya’s hair and he whines lightly into the kiss, as though he wants more and can never quite get enough.

When the kiss breaks and Shane leans his forehead against Ilya’s, Ilya feels significantly better just for having kissed him as thoroughly as he just did. He’s awake now and he definitely wants to do something about Shane’s nerves, but he needs to find a way to do that just right.

“You want to tell them, yes?” he asks once more, to be sure.

“Yes,” Shane confirms. “I really want to tell them.”

“Then you invite them for dinner,” Ilya says. “If you decide against it later, it’s just dinner, yes? But you invite them now, you message or you call, and I will blow you as a reward.”

“You would blow me anyway,” Shane points out.

“No, I will - what is the word? When you don’t have any sex?” Ilya asks. “I do not know this word. It is very unfamiliar to me.”

Shane laughs. “Out of all the words about sex you know in the English language, this isn’t one of them,” he says, holding onto one of Ilya’s shoulders to stop himself from falling over. “It’s abstain, Ilya.” 

“Abstain,” Ilya repeats after him, trying it out. “I will abstain. And you do not want this, Shane. You want me every part of the day.”

Shane fondly rolls his eyes at him and presses a kiss to his lips before getting off him again. Ilya’s arms and lap are empty, but that’s okay for now because Shane is sitting up straight and reaching out for his phone on his nightstand. Ilya leans up and watches how Shane is seemingly messaging someone. He looks at his screen, seems to wait, and then immediately starts messaging again.

“Six’o’clock,” he says when he puts his phone back down. “It’s done. They’re coming over for dinner.”

“Your mother responds fast,” Ilya remarks.

Shane sighs. “She does,” he says. “She never misses a message. I don’t know how she does it.”

Presumably she doesn’t need to leave her phone in a locker room during games and practices, Ilya thinks. And presumably she doesn’t swipe notifications aside to deal with later, only to forget about it when the time is later. 

“And now you get blowjob, yes?” Ilya asks, grinning wickedly.

“You don’t actually have to do that,” Shane starts immediately. “It was just a joke, and -”

Ilya moves to Shane’s side of the bed and kisses him in the middle of his sentence. Then he says: “Shane. Moya lyubov. I always want to suck you off. This is never a question. The question is if you want me to.”

This time, Shane doesn’t hesitate. “Of course I want you to,” he says.

It’s enough for Ilya to pull Shane back towards the middle of the bed and to settle himself on top of him. He kisses him deeply and trails a hand over his body to his already hardening dick. Shane moans against his mouth and grinds against him, as eager for Ilya to touch him as Ilya is to touch him.

llya has been with many women. He’s told Shane this. He has also been with his share of men, of course. He’s been with the same people a number of times before as well. None of them have ever compared to Shane and none of them with Ilya have ever compared to the chemistry that he and Shane have. Their bodies are attuned to each other. Ilya feels like he just knows what Shane needs and what will make him feel good on some occasions, like Shane’s body is telling him a secret in a language only he understands. 

This morning, Shane is more tense than he has been since their conversation about their relationship, but not as tense as he is sometimes when they meet after a game. He’s eager for Ilya to touch him and responds accordingly. His body leans into Ilya’s body, as if skin-to-skin contact is the thing he needs the most right now. 

Ilya is happy to take his time to tease more responses out of him. He kisses Shane’s neck, shoulders and collarbone and then goes back up to kiss Shane’s freckles, managing to make him chuckle. 

“You need to know how beautiful they are,” Ilya tells him.

“You tell me that daily,” Shane tells him, a smile on his face.

“Is not enough,” Ilya replies, kissing his lips a few more times for good measure.

He leans back down to Shane’s chest then, taking his time to caress and kiss his way there too. It occurs to him then that even the intimacy in the past few days has been so different than it usually is with them. They’re always in some sort of rush, after all. They’re either so on edge and eager for it that they never take a lot of time or they just don’t have a lot of time to be together so they make the most of the time they have. It’s never been like this before, where Ilya isn’t in a rush because they’re not on an immediate time limit.

That he knows Shane’s body down to every birthmark, stretch mark and freckle has more to do with attention to detail and years of knowledge than it does to long periods of time spent exploring. Ilya figures that the longer he takes now, the less time Shane can take worrying about tonight. He wants to take every opportunity he can get to find out everything there is to know about the man he loves. 

By the time that Ilya sinks his mouth over Shane’s dick, Shane is completely relaxed and just as eager. He moans and his hands go into Ilya’s hair immediately. He mumbles ‘God, Ilya’ under his breath and pulls just a little. 

Ilya takes his time bringing Shane to and over the edge just as he took his time even getting to it. He starts off slow and then slowly takes him deeper, paying great attention to every noise and body movement, by now fluent in the language of Shane Hollander being given a blowjob. He brings him to the edge twice without letting him fall over it and then brings him away from it before eventually giving in to Shane’s annoyed noises and coaxing him over it.

Shane looks positively wrecked. Regardless of how worn out he must be, he moves to wrap an arm around Ilya as Ilya lets himself fall next to him. “Give me a minute,” he says, eyes closing as he breathes heavily. “I just need to -”

Ilya cuts him off with a kiss. “You need to recover from the best blowjob you ever had,” he tells Shane. “And then we will go and have a late breakfast, yes?”

“But I need to make you come!” Shane protests, eyes still closed.

Ilya presses a kiss to his temple. “No, moya lyubov, it is all right,” he reassures him. “I will fuck you tonight. Will be good for both of us, just like this was good for both of us. There is no rule we need equal amount of orgasms, Shane. If you think there is, you make it up to me later.”

“Fine,” Shane says, cuddling against Ilya. “Fine, because you killed me.”

“Good.” Ilya is more than happy with that outcome.

 

---

 

Shane invited his parents to come over at the house at precisely six PM. Ilya has learned that this means that they will be there at precisely six PM, because Shane has inherited his punctuality from his mother. Shane has informed him that Yuna and David, his parents, will be there at precisely six PM, which means Shane needs to start cooking at five minutes before five PM if he wants to have the dinner done before they arrive.

Ilya tried to tell him that actually he didn’t need to have the dinner done by six because people might like to sit down and have a drink and relax before dinner, but Shane was having none of that. No, a dinner invitation for six’o’clock meant that dinner was done at six’o’clock according to Shane, so the dinner had to be done by then.

Realistically, there was no arguing with the man when he was being stubborn and pedantic, so Ilya just gave up and asked what Shane needed him to do.

There is one aspect that Ilya will not argue with Shane about for the simple reason that he’s just going to do it. Shane will try to start an argument. Ilya will humour him, because it will take his mind off of things.

A few minutes before six, Ilya surfaces from their shared bedroom (with the blinds down, this time) while wearing the only pair of jeans that he brought with him paired with a T-shirt and Shane’s plaid flannel shirt. Shane’s parents undoubtedly know it’s Shane’s shirt and that’s the whole point for Ilya.

As soon as Shane sees him from where he’s standing by the stove, he says: “No. Absolutely not. Please change, they will be here soon.”

“I am wearing this,” Ilya replies, pausing in the doorway to lean against the doorframe. “This is smart, Shane.”

“How is you wearing my clothes helping?” Shane asks frustratedly.

“Your father saw me in your room,” Ilya reminds him. “So we must tell your parents that I packed very stupidly for Ottawa and that you were so kind to give me clothes. That is why I am wearing them now. So they do not think we are sharing a room.”

“That seems very convoluted,” Shane says, using a word that Ilya doesn’t know. He hears Shane’s hesitance in his voice, though, meaning he’s coming across to the way Ilya sees it. “What if you were just there to use the bathroom?”

“Shane, they know your house has multiple bathrooms,” Ilya says. “There is no reason I would have exited yours unless I was already there. So I am wearing your clothes because you are giving them to me.”

“Fine,” Shane says, staring at the pasta he’s making like it has personally harmed him. “They’re almost here and -”

His sentence is cut off by the sound of tires on gravel. Shane tenses again immediately. He almost relaxed into arguing with Ilya, something so familiar to him that he seemingly just couldn’t help it, but he’s back to being uncomfortable the moment he registered the noise.

Ilya resists the urge to kiss him. Instead, he smiles and says: “I will go greet your parents. I will break the tension.”

“Stick to the script!” Shane calls after him as he leaves the kitchen.

Stick to the fucking script. As if Ilya isn’t the best at improvising. As if Ilya would do anything to annoy his probable future parents-in-law.

The thing is that Ilya is generally good with people. He knows what to say so journalists get their soundbites or often outrageous quotes for their articles. He knows how to motivate a team. He knows when to say nothing when a teammate comes to him with a story they just need to get out. He knows how to placate Boston’s management and amuse Boston’s fans. He’s good with kids, younger kids and teenagers both, because he can get on their level without a problem.

It’s parents that Ilya isn’t good with. He’s never quite gotten the hang of dealing with his father beyond clenching his teeth together or spacing out altogether. When Cliff’s mother comes by and tries to fuss over him after she gets done with Cliff (she’s a very sweet woman, mind you), Ilya puts on the most charming version of his persona and gets away as soon as he can, often by putting someone else in front of her. Parents don’t like him (Cliff’s mother is an exception because, well, Cliff is Cliff) and he doesn’t like parents either.

He will put his best foot forward, of course, and constantly remind himself that this evening is about Shane. He’s just here to support Shane. It doesn’t matter if David and Yuna Hollander don’t like him. They just have to be supportive of Shane.   

He makes his way over to the hallway. Through the windows he can see David (who drove) and Yuna (who was in the passenger’s seat) make their way over to the front door. David is wearing another version of the businessman trying vacation attire. This time the button-up is a very daring dark blue. Yuna, on the other hand, is wearing a dark red summer dress. She is dressed to impress, Ilya thinks.

He opens the door and greets them with a smile. “Mr and Mrs Hollander!” he says immediately. “Welcome to Shane’s cottage!”

“Mr Rozanov!” David replies immediately, offering his hand for Ilya to shake like they’re old friends, instead of David having found him in his son’s bedroom roughly twenty-four hours ago. 

“Mr Hollander,” Ilya replies with a friendly smile, naturally shaking his hand.

Then it’s Yuna’s turn. Shane has talked to him about his parents in just enough depth to make Ilya understand that Yuna Hollander is going to be his problem. She doesn’t like Boston, she doesn’t like him and she sets the bar very high in every aspect of life. Ilya is Shane’s rival, the one that took the honour of being the first draft pick from him, and the one that means he always has someone to compete with. Never mind that it makes them both better, of course.

It therefore comes as a surprise when Yuna smiles at him and then asks: “Mr Rozanov. Or is it Ilya? Can I hug you?”

Cliff’s mother just sort of approaches him with open arms and a smile and says ‘I swear you’re taller every time I see you, Ilya’ and then Ilya hugs her without a problem. Ilya’s father didn’t tend to initiate hugs. As a result, Ilya doesn’t really know how to respond to the question. 

“Yuna, you’re already overwhelming him,” David says when Ilya says nothing.

“No, no, is fine, sorry,” Ilya quickly says. “You can call me Ilya. And you can hug me.”

“Then I need you to call me Yuna,” Yuna tells him. 

“Okay,” Ilya says, unsure how he could say anything else to that.

Seconds later, Yuna reaches up to engulf him in a hug. Her arms are around him and her head is on his shoulder. She’s not nearly as tall as Shane, who is roughly the same height as his father, but she reminds him of Shane all the same because of the warmth and the comfort that the hug gives him.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ilya,” she says softly. “I’m glad Shane invited you to his cottage.”

Shane kind-of prepared Ilya for the meeting with his parents. He made sure that Ilya knew enough about them to hold a conversation with them. Ilya knows David played hockey for McGill, which is apparently a school in Canada, and works for the Treasury Board of Canada. He likes puzzles. Yuna, on the other hand, likes hockey. She probably likes hockey more than Shane and Ilya, which is saying something. Yuna went to the other English school in Montreal, or so Shane said. His parents met in Montreal, though Yuna is from Ottawa and David is from Toronto.

Shane also told Ilya about their personalities. David is calm and mellow. Ilya had to ask what mellow meant and Shane said it was just another way of saying calm. He’s not very outwardly emotional and doesn’t get upset easily. Yuna is very passionate, or so Shane put it. She is the one of the two more likely to have a bigger outward response to Shane coming out and dating Ilya. 

The hug doesn’t really fit in with Ilya's idea of Yuna, who he assumed was going to be mad about him being here. People that love Montreal so passionately do not like him. Perhaps Yuna is more level-headed than Shane gave her credit for. Perhaps she can very easily separate the person from the hockey. 

When she lets go, Ilya quickly says: “Shane is making dinner inside. We have set the table in the backyard. I will walk you there, yes?

“That sounds wonderful, honey,” Yuna says. “We will follow you there.”

Honey? Ilya has not been called honey by anyone other than Cliff’s mother. He likes it.

Ilya leads the way into the cottage and past the kitchen, where Shane is nervously stirring through the pasta. As soon as Shane sees someone from the corner of his eye he straightens his back and turns just enough to see. 

“Rozanov,” Shane says. “You didn’t say anything about Montreal, right?”  

Shane is really overselling it by using Ilya’s last name. Ilya often still uses Shane’s last name too, but definitely not within earshot of his parents.

“No, Shane, I did not tell your parents who like Montreal that Boston is clearly superior team,” Ilya says with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “I am very nice. You know this, yes?”

“You’re just nice enough for me to invite you here,” Shane muttered.

“Is low benchmark,” Ilya jokes to Shane’s parents. “He will invite anyone here. We have party with many other players every weekend.” 

“Ilya,” Shane says with an annoyed sigh. “Please remember I was supposed to have a silent retreat and all you tend to do is talk.” 

“Whatever you say, Hollander.”

“That’s not -” For a moment, Shane looks like he’s so exasperated he’s going to refuse to tell his parents anything. 

Ilya watches how Shane greets his parents with a hug and kiss to their cheek. Both of them are clearly happy to see him and to get to spend time with him. Ilya almost feels selfish for potentially keeping Shane away from them for multiple weeks, but he has to remember that Shane was the one to actually invite him. Shane invented the silent meditation retreat lie. Ilya assumes it’s the first time he lied to them about where he was and what he was doing to such an extent.

Shane adds the finishing touches to the pasta as Ilya walks outside with the Hollanders. He pulls out Yuna’s chair, who smiles at him like that means a lot to her and thanks him, and asks David if he’s on vacation himself right now. It turns out that he is. That must have been another reason for Shane to invite Ilya to the cottage now, Ilya reckons. He must have assumed that his parents would keep each other occupied. 

Ilya helps Shane to serve the dinner. Naturally, the table was laid out before the Hollanders arrived, so all they have to do is carry the pans over to the table. The food is served and Shane checks once more if everyone has their drinks before they get to it.

They’re hardly three bites in when Yuna clears her throat and says: “Shane, before you start, there is something we need to say.”

Next to Ilya, Shane tenses immediately. He briefly glances aside and then looks away from both Ilya and his parents. “Sure,” Shane says. It’s the least convincing ‘sure’ that Ilya has heard in his life. 

The assumption that Yuna and David Hollander have figured out that Shane and Ilya are together from what David saw yesterday is an obvious one. Ilya still stands by the idea that they could have drawn another conclusion from seeing Ilya in Shane’s cottage, but these people actually know Shane. Maybe Ilya was the last piece of a puzzle they were waiting to solve or the last bit of information that makes the story make sense.

“We love you very much, Shane,” Yuna says. “And we’re very proud of you. Nothing can ever change that.”

“Yes, we love you, kiddo,” David agrees.

Shane shuffles uncomfortably. “I love you too,” he says, then immediately takes another bite of his food, eyes on the plate.

Ilya isn’t sure if this did good or harm to Shane’s intentions to come out to his parents. On the one hand, his parents have made it extraordinarily clear to Shane that they aren’t going to have a problem with it. On the other hand, Shane might feel cornered and forced into saying it out loud, which he isn’t going to respond well to.

Shane has been nervous and anxious for most of the day leading up to this dinner. Ilya tried to comfort him the best he could. He also made it very clear that Shane doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to. They can just have a meal together. Ilya will do the most of the talking. All Shane has to do is be there, eat his meal and maybe nod and agree at the appropriate moments. Maybe it will help him to see that his parents like Ilya, which they will.

“I like Shane a lot too,” Ilya says when no one is breaking the silence. “He makes very good pasta. I always ask if I need to help and he tells me to sit down because I am his guest and he should be making food for me.”

“Is that the way to your company, Ilya? Good food?” David asks, amused.

“Ah, yes,” Ilya says. “The entire season, we have nutrition plans. We are told what we can and cannot eat. And then -”

“As if you ever stick to your nutrition plans,” Shane scoffs.

“Hollander, I am trying to compliment you,” Ilya says with emphasis, shaking his head. “Please do not interrupt you when I say the only nice thing I will say about you all day! You are wasting this.” 

When Shane doesn’t interrupt him a second time, though he glares at Ilya, Ilya continues to talk like he was never interrupted to begin with. “And then Hollander invites me to his cottage and he gives me very good food! This food even fits in nutrition plans some of the time! He is very talented.” He turns to David to ask: “When you played for McGill, did they also expect you to stick to nutrition plans?”

David seems pleasantly surprised to hear Ilya mention McGill. “Things were definitely different in my time,” he says. “Also, college hockey is a different ballgame than NHL hockey.”

“I do not know very much about it,” Ilya tells him. “What are the differences?”

The next ten minutes are spent discussing college hockey and NHL hockey. It’s the same game, but everything else surrounding the game due to it being affiliated with a college instead of a town or a city is very different. Ilya wonders if he could ever make it to a college game and experience it for himself. His own grueling hockey schedule doesn’t tend to leave him with a lot of free time, late evenings aside.

They get through the rest of their dinner like that, with Ilya bringing up a new topic from the top of his head when the silence lingers for too long and the anticipation seems to be building up too much. Neither Yuna nor David have at any point asked what Ilya is doing here. Shane engages by lightly bickering with Ilya or adding to memories that his parents bring up, but he’s been mostly absent-mindedly eating his pasta and half-listening to the conversation.

They drink a cup of coffee after dinner. Ilya is mostly out of subjects to talk about by now and the silence doesn’t feel quite so daunting anymore. Eventually Shane leans into him and touches the back of his head, like he is trying to bring Ilya closer to kiss him.

Ilya raises his eyebrows in a wordless question. Shane’s wordless answer is a nod, the set of his jaw determined, so Ilya leans in closer to him. He lets Shane close the distance fully, something he does with a short peck to Ilya’s lips, right there for both of his parents to see.

What they definitely suspected the entire time is confirmed now, so Ilya no longer bothers to keep his hands to himself. He wraps an arm loosely around Shane’s shoulders as much as the chairs allow and presses a kiss to his hair for good measure. 

Shane clears his throat. “So Ilya and I are together,” he tells his parents. “I was going to tell you that I am gay. Soon. It took me a long time to fully understand that, but Ilya and Rose really helped me.”

“Rose Landry?” Yuna asks, apparently finding this the most surprising part of the words that just came out of Shane’s mouth. 

“Yes,” Shane confirms. “She helped me realise that we weren’t compatible and that I actually wanted to be with Ilya.”

“I was going to tell you after this summer, Shane continues. “I wanted to figure the situation out with Ilya first. I wanted us to make a plan together.”

“Hence the silent meditation retreat,” David concludes softly. “I am so sorry that I disturbed you guys. I thought I could just quickly grab the charger and be in and out of your cottage, Shane.”

“So you are a better liar than I thought,” Ilya says, verbally poking at Shane a little just to see him get annoyed at Ilya and relax a bit as a consequence of it.

Shane, naturally, rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Rozanov,” he says, but he’s grinning just a little. “I didn’t want to lie. I just wanted to know what I wanted to tell you. Being here with Ilya helped me figure it out.”

“We’re very glad you told us, honey,” Yuna says, placing a hand on David’s arm. “And we’re very proud of you. We like Ilya a lot.”

“I told you that your parents would like me,” Ilya says triumphantly.

Shane doesn’t tell him to shut up again. Instead, he turns directly to his father and asks: “Did you know what was going on immediately, when you saw Ilya in my bedroom?”

“No,” David says. “I didn’t think that far in the moment. I didn’t recognise Ilya as, well, Ilya Rozanov, until you introduced him, and then it took mentioning him to Yuna for me to realise who it was.” He turns to Ilya and explains: “I’m not very big into hockey. We watch all of Shane’s games of course and I knew who you were, but I didn’t put the pieces together at the time.”

“Of course you were about the last person we expected to see at Shane’s cottage,” Yuna adds. “But it’s a very welcome surprise.”

“I think we came to the realization together in the evening,” David says. “You’re very protective of your cottage and your free time, so suddenly seeing Ilya in both showed that he meant a lot to you. He meant enough to you to give up some of both.”

“He does mean a lot to me,” Shane confirms softly, glancing over at Ilya. “I love him, actually.”

The man that was in a state of utter discomfort twenty-four hours ago about the mere idea of his parents finding out about him and Ilya now told them he loves Ilya after kissing him and confirming their relationship. Ilya has no idea what he has done right in his life to deserve Shane and where in the world Shane got all his courage and bravery from. He just knows that Shane is incredible, that Shane is everything, and that he will go along with any and every plan Shane makes, just so he can spend more hours with this incredible man.

In the end, there is only one thing he can say. “I love you too, moya lyubov.”

Shane wraps his arms around Ilya for as much as the chairs let him and Ilya presses another kiss to his hair. In front of them, Yuna and David exchange a glance and smile at each other. 

 

---

 

A week later, when they’ve planned years into the future, did another race on Shane’s jet skis and had sex in pretty much every room of Shane’s cottage, they get a message in the group chat.

Yes, Yuna insisted that they make a group chat for the four of them. David and Yuna have Ilya saved as ‘Lily’ as per Shane’s suggestion, but they’ve simply named the group chat ‘the Hollanders’ as if Ilya is already one of them, even if they’ve only known him for a week. Ilya, for his part, saved their numbers with their first names only on the assumption that no one knows Shane Hollander's parents’ first names.

Yuna 

We were wondering if you boys wanted to come over for dinner at our place?

I suggested we come over to ask in person, but David was against it.

Ilya

David Hollander is a smart man!

Jane

Definitely always message or call first.

We would love to have dinner, mom.

David

I will make your favourite lasagna, Shane!

Looking forward to seeing you again, Ilya!

Ilya

You too!