Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

F/M, M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationships:

Shane Hollander & Rose Landry, Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Ilya Rozanov & Svetlana Vetrova, Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau & Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau, Rose Landry

Additional Tags:

Book 2: Heated Rivalry (Game Changers), Episode: s01e04 Rose (Heated Rivalry), Canon Rewrite, Post-Canon Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, Post-Scene: Ilya Rozanov Makes Tuna Melts in Episode: s01e04 Rose, Boys Being Boys, Good Friend Rose Landry, Rose Landry Finds Out About Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Rose Landry and Ilya Rozanov Meet, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feel-good, Good Parent Yuna Hollander, Yuna Hollander Finds Out About Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Yuna Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, POV Yuna Hollander, Protective Yuna Hollander, Women Being Awesome, Beards (Relationships)

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-03-23 Completed: 2026-04-02 Words: 16,794 Chapters: 12/12

Club Remix

Summary

Shane is frozen, staring at Ilya and the girl. He can’t be sure how much time goes by. He isn’t even sure what he’s doing there, what he’s waiting for. He and Ilya stare at each other. The girl writhes against Ilya, oblivious; he presses his mouth to her neck, his eyes on Shane. Shane’s stomach turns. He cannot look away.

Or, the club scene with a different, more complicated ending.

Notes

I love these books and this show deeply. The club scene in particular is High Art. However, my anxiety cannot tolerate the way that interaction and episode end, even knowing the end is happy. I had to write a little remix that still establishes the very important friendship between Shane and Rose and also captures the reunion of Ilya and Shane before they go to Tampa. It is for my mental health.

I hope you like it! It turns out it has to be told in chapters. I don't know why, that just seems to happen sometimes.

Chapter 1: I don't know how we got here but I wanna go back

The club is loud, which Shane can tolerate. He knows loud. He is accustomed to the layered noise of arenas: the music, the crowd, the other players, the sound of his own breath in his ears. Loud is fine. It's all the other sensations that are starting to feel overstimulating. He's dancing, which he barely ever does. Rose's hands are just under the hem of his shirt, touching his abs, which is fine! She's his girlfriend, sort of. They haven't really talked about it. But they've been seeing each other; they've slept together twice. She's allowed to touch him. They’re dancing in a club together, touching is normal behavior. He thinks. He thinks it's normal to be dancing in between his sort-of-girlfriend and her friend from work. Miles. Extremely hot Miles, whose breath is tickling the back of Shane's neck, which is not a bad feeling exactly, but it is making him nervous. He thinks Miles has been flirting with him tonight but that can’t be right. Would his sort-of-girlfriend’s close friend flirt with him right in front of her? And dance this close to him while she touches his waist with her hands?

Focus, he tells himself. He’s not a good dancer exactly but he doesn’t think he’s embarrassing himself. He is trying to relax and also figure out a way to move Rose so she's in between him and Miles before anyone notices that he’s kind of more into the feeling of Miles’ body against him than Rose's. He is concentrating on being normal. 

Then he sees Marlow. And Connors. His body knows Rozanov is there before his brain is able to fully register the thought. His eyes sweep the room until they land on Ilya, glued to a beautiful girl. Shane starts moving towards them without thinking. It’s like he’s magnetized: he can only go toward Ilya like a compass pointing North. Rose and Miles barely notice him leaving. He hardly registers what he’s doing, walking up to Ilya Rozanov in a public place like it's a normal thing for him to do. Staring him down while he runs his hands all over some girl. Waiting for the second Rozanov will look up and see Shane, ten feet from him, half smiling because he smiles every time he sees Rozanov, he can’t help it. When their eyes meet, the smile melts off Shane's face. Rozanov looks furious.

Shane can’t blame him. He feels awful about the last time they saw each other (how was it only a month ago? It feels like a lifetime has passed). He’s been replaying the scene in his mind since, despite trying to think of literally anything else. He knows he hurt Roz–Ilya that day. He didn't mean to but he had hurt Ilya. 

And now Ilya is hurting him.

Shane is frozen, staring at Ilya and the girl. He can’t be sure how much time goes by. He isn’t even sure what he’s doing there, what he’s waiting for. He and Ilya stare at each other. The girl writhes against Ilya, oblivious; he presses his mouth to her neck, his eyes on Shane. Shane’s stomach turns. He wants to look away but he can't. His feet are frozen to the floor. 

Rose appears at his side, shaking him out of his reverie. “Are you ok?” she asks, concerned. Sweet. Shane breaks eye contact with Ilya to look down at her. She is too beautiful and too kind. He tries to answer but his voice is stuck in his throat. She looks over at Ilya and the girl and then back at Shane. She frowns. “Do you want to talk outside?” He must nod because she takes his hand and leads him to a back door that opens into an alleyway. The cold air hits him like a bucket of water. He considers running away. Again. What is wrong with him?

“Shane?”

It’s the way her voice sounds that undoes him: it is so soft and concerned and nice. Tears come unbidden into his eyes. He is mortified. Terrified. He is crying in a fucking alleyway with his movie star girlfriend looking up at him, patiently waiting for him to tell her what the fuck is going on.

“I fucked up,” he says simply. She wraps her arms around his waist and he leans into her. She is smaller than him but she’s solid. She holds him until he can trust his voice again. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t do anything.”

He shakes his head. He doesn’t know how to explain this to her. He barely knows how to explain it to himself. “A while ago, I hurt someone that I really… I made a mistake.”

She pulls back to look at him. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

Yes. No. This is a nightmare. “I can’t–it was before we met, I haven’t cheated on you or anything.”

Rose smiles. “We haven’t even talked about being exclusive, Shane. You’re off the hook.”

“No, I know, I just don’t want you to think–I really like you. I like being with you, I like talking to you.”

“But?”

“What?”

“It sounds like there’s a second part of that sentence. You like me, but.” She smiles kindly. “I’m a big girl, Shane. You can just tell me that you don’t want to see me anymore.”

He shakes his head, tears threatening to overflow at any moment. “It’s not that.” She raises an eyebrow. “I mean, yes, I guess we shouldn’t… It’s not you, Rose, I don’t think I like… girls. In general.”

“Ah. I was kind of wondering about that, honestly.”

Shane is startled. “What?”

Rose laughs, not unkindly. “You are very sweet, Shane. I like being with you and talking to you too. But straight guys don’t flinch when I go to kiss them.” He turns his head away from her, embarrassed. She gently places her fingers on his chin and moves his face to look at her. “Hey. I’m not upset with you. We’re just not… compatible. Like that. We’re better friends than lovers is all. We can be friends, Shane.”

He smiles. “You’re too nice.”

She laughs. “Says the nicest man I've literally ever met. Of course it was too good to be true.” She squeezes him and then steps back, creating a small but warm space between them. “What happened in there?”

Shane looks down. “The person I hurt.” He hesitates to use a pronoun and then decides to be brave, just for a second. Just here, with Rose, in this alleyway, freezing his dick off now that the adrenaline has worn off and the sweat from dancing has cooled. “He’s in there. Dancing with someone. I saw him and I just, like, turned off. Like my brain short-circuited.”

Rose nods. “Been there.”

“Really?”

“Of course! I’m an actress, Shane, I have a flair for the dramatic and for picking the wrong guys to fall madly in love with. I’ve definitely been known to short-circuit because of a man.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“No! Don’t be. This is way more interesting than being in the center of the drama. I’m just an onlooker.”

They laugh. Shane loves this, loves Rose, he thinks, just not in the romantic way. Not in the way (he realizes suddenly) that he loves Ilya. He has loved Ilya for so long; maybe since the first time they met when they were teenagers. Maybe before they even kissed for the first time. He is stupidly in love with Ilya Rozanov and he has fucked it up so badly. 

“You’re the best ex-girlfriend I’ve ever had.”

Rose smiles. “Of course I am. So he’s here. It's... him.” Shane nods. If Rose is surprised to realize that the guy in question is Ilya Rozanov, she doesn't show it. Instead, she grins in a way that is slightly alarming to Shane. “Listen, I have an idea.” He frowns, which makes her giggle. “It’s good, listen!” She's a little tipsy but her idea is good, Shane thinks. If it works. He is so desperate in this moment, he is actually willing to try anything. 

They walk back into the club together. She leads him directly to Ilya, who is standing at the bar alone. Thank God for small favors, Shane thinks. He’s not sure this would work if that girl was still hanging around.

“Ilya Rozanov, right?” Rose says to Ilya, just loud enough to be heard over the music. “I’m a big fan. Shane said he knew you so I asked him to introduce us.”

Ilya stares at her. It is icy. Shane’s hands are shaking. Please don’t be a dick to her, he thinks. If Rose’s feelings get hurt, he will never forgive himself. He’s done enough damage tonight.

“Hello,” Ilya finally answers. The silence afterward is heavy. Luckily Rose doesn't let it last.

She leans into him a little closer to be sure he can hear her above the music. He doesn’t step back but Shane can tell he wants to. He still hasn’t looked at Shane. “Shane and I were dating for a minute but we actually just called it quits out there," she starts explaining, talking so fast Shane is afraid Ilya won't be able to follow. "It turns out he has a wild crush on someone else.” Ilya’s stare turns surprised instead of icy, his mouth hanging open just a little. God, Shane loves that mouth. He misses it so much it hurts. “The thing is, he hasn’t been able to tell this crush how he feels. But he can't keep avoiding it, you know?" She turns to Shane. "I'm ready to call it a night. Can you drop me off at my hotel?" She turns back to Ilya. "I hate to just leave him home alone after all this but that's where he'll be: home. Alone. In a perfect position to talk."

Shane’s face is so red it feels like it’s literally on fire. He can’t bring himself to look in Ilya’s eyes so he doesn’t. He stares at his neck instead, where he can see the gold chain resting against his collarbone. He looks at his ridiculous shirt, which of course looks amazing on him because it’s Ilya and he always looks amazing. 

“Talk,” Ilya says finally. 

Rose shrugs. “That’s what he told me. Just now, when we broke up. Because he’s very, very into someone else.” She leans up to kiss Rozanov on both cheeks as if they’d met at some Hollywood party instead of this loud Montreal club. “Nice to meet you. I hope we’ll run into each other again.” She pulls Shane by the hand out of the club and onto the street, where a car is waiting for them. She’s giggling. “That was so much fun!”

Shane stares at her. “I feel like I’m going to vomit.”

“No, that went great! He’ll definitely show.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“Then he’s an idiot.” She pushes him into the waiting car and slides in next to him. “I have another idea.” Shane groans. “No, listen! It’s smart. There’s no reason we can’t keep seeing each other, like, publicly.”

“You and me?”

“Yeah. I’ll be your beard. It’ll be fun! And in the meantime you can figure out your shit with the hot Russian, or date someone else discreetly, and the press will be totally focused on this very straight version of you dating a pretty actress. Problem solved.”

“You would do that for me?”

“Yes, dummy. I told you, we’re going to be friends. Best friends. This is best friend shit.”

“Wow.”

“Also someone else is bound to snap me up eventually so it won’t be forever. Just long enough to keep the rumor mill going and make you seem super straight until you’re ready to be otherwise.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.”

She squeezes his hand. “There’s no rush, babe. This is my hotel. Text me! Tomorrow! Tell me everything!”

He smiles. “I hope there’s something to tell.”

“There will be. See you!” She bounces out of the car and into the lobby of the fancy hotel she’s been staying in. The driver pulls away. He’ll be home in a few minutes. And then he’ll just have to wait.

Chapter 2: You hurt me, watch me hurt you too

Chapter Summary

A retelling of chapter 1 from Ilya's POV.

Chapter Notes

Thank you very much to Mighty_Pen75 for the suggestion! This was a lot of fun and actually helped shape the rest of the story (which is currently on chapter 8 somehow, I cannot stop). I actually cannot tolerate these boys not being together so they are going to figure their shit out!

Ilya knows his teammates (Cliff at least, so probably Connors too) have taken note of his shitty mood over the past month. He’s not sure if they clocked it when it started, the last time they faced Montreal. That game the day after Hollander had run away from Ilya sucked but Ilya had gotten through it on autopilot. He was still trying to figure out what had happened then. Now, more than a month after that horrible afternoon (actually 34 days, but who’s counting?) Ilya has been struggling to muster up even a shadow of his normal self. Tonight his team lost 1-0 in one of the worst hockey games he has ever played. Ilya left the arena in a rage that boiled just below the surface, threatening to be directed at anyone who got too close to him tonight. 

Marlow and Connors figured tonight’s loss was just the icing on the cake of whatever had been bothering their captain for the past few weeks. They were relieved when he demanded they all go out. Maybe if he got laid, Roz would chill out. Marlow wondered if he and the Montreal chick had split or something but he didn’t dare ask for fear of getting his head bitten off. When he wasn’t sulking through practice or actively playing (usually much better than he had tonight), Ilya’s anger radiated off of him in waves. 

It wasn't just the anger that tortured him. Ilya could deal with being angry. He had been angry a lot during his life: at his mother for dying, at his father for existing, at his brother for being such a fuckup and making it Ilya's problem. Anger was familiar. The other feelings that have arisen since that afternoon in his house are more alarming to him. There is humiliation. Shame. Fear. He has had a miserable 34 days. He knows Cliff has noticed. He also knows that Cliff wants to help him. He can see the way the other man’s eyes slide over to him in the locker room, wondering what his problem is. Ilya has made it clear he does not want to be asked. He is not interested in brotherly support and concern. Besides which, what would he even tell Cliff? There was nothing to say. He took a chance on something and it didn’t work out. Hollander had left. Fine. It wasn’t serious between them. It was just fucking when they were in the same place. Maybe Ilya had wanted a little more than that but clearly more made Shane want to run as far as possible from him. Clearly it had been a huge fucking mistake to ask Hollander to stay a little longer and then to dare call him by his first name. Lesson fucking learned.

He tried to forget about the whole thing but right after that, Hollander and his new movie star girlfriend were everywhere he looked. He could not open Instagram without seeing them, holding hands in public. Hollander would never hold Ilya’s hand. Ilya tried very hard not to care about that. He thought he was getting better at not caring, until tonight. Having to play against Hollander (something that used to be fun and exciting) was a living nightmare. The game had been awful and not just because Boston had lost. It was the way Shane refused to acknowledge Ilya’s presence. Ilya had checked Shane into the boards as hard as he could at one point, daring the other man to look him in the eyes. Shane hadn’t even lifted his head. 

The disrespect was intolerable.

The moment he and his teammates walked in the club, Ilya felt his body relax. The music was teeth-achingly loud, which appealed to him; this way he couldn’t hear himself think. There was good beer too, and plenty of beautiful women. Maybe he would try picking up two women tonight. Let that shit be splayed across some tabloid internet site tomorrow. Let Hollander get a taste of his own fucking medicine.

He’s getting his beer when he feels someone’s eyes on him. He looks down the bar to find he’s being checked out by a very hot guy. The guy is leaning over the bar several people down from Ilya. When he catches Ilya’s eye, he gives a little finger salute. Before Ilya can respond (risky to flirt back with a man in public in front of his teammates), he realizes the guy looks familiar. He’s someone… Ah! He’s been in some of the photos of Rose Landry, the ones Ilya has looked at way too many times. If he is here, then she’s probably here, which would mean–

Nope. He doesn’t give a shit what it could mean. He turns his attention to his beer and goes in search of someone to dance with.

He finds a pretty girl soon enough. She has a tongue piercing, a plus, and she’s standing right in front of him. Convenient. He doesn’t bother introducing himself, just smiles at her and pulls her towards him. Within minutes they’re making out. This is good; this will help.

It’s not like he hasn’t slept with anyone else this past month. He’s not on some celibacy tour. But for some reason, the casual sex he used to enjoy hasn’t cured his anger. Maybe this girl will be the one to fix him. He spins her around so she can grind her ass into him and he can lick and bite at her neck. The faster it gets filthy between them, the faster he can ask her if she wants to get out of here. He looks around the club as he’s running his hands over her, wondering if there’s a dark corner they can sneak over to when he spots him: Shane fucking Hollander. 

Unbelievably, Hollander is smiling when they lock eyes, as if he’s happy to see Ilya. This is infuriating. Ilya glares daggers at the other man, whose smile disappears immediately. They stare at each other, not ten feet apart. Ilya does not stop touching the girl he’s dancing with. Shane does not move. 

Rose Landry appears out of nowhere and ushers Shane out the back door. Good, Ilya thinks. Go home with your movie star girlfriend. Stay out of my face. Stay out of my head. 

Suddenly the girl Ilya is dancing with no longer appeals to him. 

He smiles at her, kisses her cheek, and makes his way to the bar, leaving her standing there with his spit still drying on her neck. (Later she’ll tell her friends the hottest man she had ever seen made out with her for several minutes before just straight up abandoning her on the dance floor. She’s never been rejected in such a strange but polite way).

Ilya is contemplating how many shots of vodka he can order without raising the bartender’s suspicions when Rose Landry and Hollander walk up to him. What fresh fucking hell is this? She’s even more beautiful in person, Ilya will give Hollander that. He wants to hate her on sight, has in fact been hating pictures of her for weeks, but face to face with her he finds it hard to muster up the same level of anger. This isn’t her fault, after all. She doesn’t know her stupid hockey boyfriend used to suck Ilya’s dick. Maybe he’ll tell her. That might turn his night around.

He can’t get a word in edgewise though. She’s talking at him very quickly, explaining that she and Shane just(?) broke up because he was into someone else and that Shane is going to go home alone now, and wait for an opportunity to talk to his mysterious crush.

“Talk,” Ilya says.

Rose shrugs. “That’s what he told me. Just now, when we broke up.” She makes sure to say this clearly over the pounding of the music. “Because he’s very, very into someone else.” She leans up to kiss Rozanov on both cheeks and says so only he can hear, “I don’t know what happened with you two but he wants to fix it.” She pulls back and gives him her movie star smile. “Nice to meet you. I hope we’ll run into each other again.” She pulls Shane by the hand out of the club.

Ilya orders a shot and downs it. What the fuck just happened? Rose Landry and Hollander broke up, just this minute, and she was trying to, what, set them up? To talk? This is one of the more bizarre interactions he has ever had. He considers his options (as if he’s not going to immediately get in a cab and go to Shane’s condo). He glances around the bar to locate his teammates. Marlow and Connors are both deep in conversation with beautiful women; they won’t notice if he slips out. They’ll assume he went home with someone. Which, incidentally, is the truth. Because of course he’s going to Shane’s condo. He’s still furious (more than that, actually) but he’s willing to see what Shane has to say. Maybe there will be groveling. Maybe Shane will get on his knees and beg for Ilya’s forgiveness. That would be worth witnessing. 

He decides on another shot of vodka before he leaves. Liquid courage, Americans say before they do something stupid. He toasts to himself with that expression in mind, thinking this is among one of his dumber decisions. And yet. Here he is, walking out of the club into the street and hailing a cab. Here he is standing at the back entrance of the condo, staring at the door as if he’s still not sure if he wants to go inside. He pulls out his phone, opens the text thread with Jane, which has been radio silent for weeks. He's looked at the old messages more often than he would like to admit, even to himself. He's read them over and over, like poking a bruise to see if it still hurts. It does. Maybe seeing Shane will heal it.

Only one way to find out.

Chapter 3: It can be whatever you want

Chapter Summary

Shane sits next to him, slowly reaching out a hand to take Ilya’s, threading their fingers together. “Whatever you want.” He swallows, forcing himself to look Ilya in the eye. “It can be whatever you want. I just can’t be without you anymore.”

Chapter Notes

Ilya stands in the alleyway at the back of Hollander’s building for several minutes, wondering if he’s made a mistake. He doesn’t have to be here. He doesn’t have to listen to whatever Hollander’s girlfriend told him to say to win Ilya back. He could get back in a cab and go to the hotel his team is staying at and deal with this shit in the morning. Or not at all. He still has choices. He still has his pride. Sort of.

Except that he doesn’t have a choice, not really. He stopped having choices the second stupid Shane Hollander shook his hand at World Juniors. Twice. Like touching Ilya’s hand once wasn’t enough. Ilya reluctantly pulls out his phone and texts: here. The door opens so fast he realizes Shane must have been waiting at the bottom of the stairs for him to arrive. Interesting. 

“Ilya,” he whispers. 

“Hollander.”

Shane blows out the breath he was holding. He nods. Ilya thinks he’s disappointed to be called Hollander again; using Ilya's first name was supposed to be a peace offering, he guesses. As if that’s what the only problem was. As if Ilya is going to make this easy for him.  

“Come up?” He waits for Ilya to join him on the stairs. They walk up together in heavy silence. Shane closes the door behind him. Ilya toes off his shoes inside, a reflex from childhood. Americans don’t do it but Canadians do, he thinks. He always does it, a cultural instinct he hasn't been able to shake even after living in the States for years. He doesn’t particularly want to be standing in his stocking feet in Hollander’s condo but old habits die hard.

“Can we sit?” 

Ilya does not want to sit. He does not want to give Shane Hollander one fucking inch. He does not appreciate the swirl of feelings he has been drowning in since the last time they saw each other. He does not like that being in Shane’s condo feels familiar and safe. He does not like remembering that the last time he was here they started kissing the second he walked in and couldn’t separate long enough even to walk up the stairs. He is trying to hold on to his anger but being in this stupid condo with stupid Shane Hollander feels too much like coming home to something. 

He does not sit.

“I want to apologize,” Shane starts, trying to look Ilya in the eyes and landing somewhere around his nose instead. His shoulders are tensed up almost up to his ears. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Ilya clocks all this but does not react to it, despite his very strong desire to quiet Shane’s anxiety with his own body. He decides that’s because his body is a dirty traitor who makes bad decisions.

Shane continues talking, a little steadier now. “I shouldn’t have left like that. In Boston. Last time. I freaked out, I guess. It was… I was surprised.”

Ilya snorts. “At what? Having three orgasms in one day?”

Shane blushes. Ilya hates how beautiful he looks with the flush covering his freckles. “Come on,” Shane says quietly. “I’m trying to tell you–I’m sorry. I wish I had stayed.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t. And I’m sorry.”

“You said that already.”

Now Shane looks frustrated. Good, Ilya thinks. He would much rather fight than talk. It’s easier. “Ilya–”

“Ah, and you can say my name now without running away. Very good, Hollander.”

“Fuck!” Ilya smirks at the brief loss of control he’s goaded the other man into. Shane takes a breath and tries again, less softly this time. “I am really fucking trying here, okay? Can you just like, give me a break?”

A break? Ilya stares at him. “Why.”

Shane stares back, refusing to be cowed. “Because I’m sorry. And I want to try again. I want you to call me Shane and I’ll call you Ilya and we can… I don’t know what we can be but I want to be something with you. Please.”

Ilya did not expect this little speech. Most of all, he did not expect the please at the end. He’s heard Shane say the word a hundred times, both whispered and shouted. This please is different than the sexy ones he’s heard coming out of Shane’s mouth. It is soft and sweet and vulnerable. All the fight leaks right out of him at the sound of that word coming from that mouth. He walks slowly to Shane’s couch and sits. Shane watches him warily, afraid to spook him probably. “What is something?” he asks.

Shane sits next to him, slowly reaching out a hand to take Ilya’s, threading their fingers together. “Whatever you want.” He swallows, forcing himself to look Ilya in the eye. “It can be whatever you want. I just can’t be without you anymore.”

Ilya thinks he might start crying. This is too much. This is a confession. This is a question, a plea. This is the most intimate moment he has ever had with another person, way more intimate than sex, which is easy for Ilya, has always been easy. Sex is just bodies connecting. This is more than that. This is terrifying. 

“Whatever I want,” he says slowly. “You broke up with your movie star girlfriend for this?”

“Kind of. I mean… we broke up because I’m gay, I guess.”

Ilya chuckles. “You guess? What tipped you off?”

“Okay, well I’ve never said it out loud before tonight so fuck off. I’m not going to like, tell the world or whatever. I just don’t want to keep pretending to myself that I can have a normal life.”

“And that’s what you want, a normal life?”

Shane hesitates. “I only want you. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

Ilya sees now why Shane ran away in Boston. It would be easier to get up and leave right now than engage in this conversation. Shane knows as well as Ilya does that if they label this, if they try to make it something, there will be consequences. Even just talking about the possibility is like stepping to the very edge of a tall building and peering over the side to see how far the drop would be. Running away seems like the only sane choice to make. 

Still, his body will not move. He is frozen in this spot, holding hands with Shane. They’ve never held hands before. Ilya has never let himself imagine what it would be like to have this easy intimacy between them. It’s always been just sex, just a transaction. Or that’s what he wanted it to be. If he’s honest with himself, he knows it stopped being casual before the last time. He didn’t want it to be casual anymore. But he also doesn’t know what is possible for them.

Shane is looking at him expectantly. There is hope in his eyes. He is taking a chance, the way Ilya had tried to do last month in Boston. He realizes now that Shane is braver than him. Ilya had tried to ask Shane if he was gay or bi; if he minded if Ilya saw other people; if he liked Ilya as much as Ilya liked him. But he hadn’t been straightforward. He had been too afraid to say what he wanted to say so he talked around the subject and hoped Shane would pick up the clues. Shane wasn’t like that though. He didn’t talk around the subject. He simply stated what he wanted and asked if Ilya wanted the same. 

What Ilya wants is to be kissing right now instead of talking. Talking is too hard. He leans forward and presses his mouth to Shane’s. A noise escapes from the back of Shane’s throat. Ilya snakes a hand behind the other man’s head, threading his fingers through his hair, pulling just a little. His other hand pulls Shane on to his lap, which is possibly too reminiscent of last time, when everything went wrong. But Ilya doesn’t care; he wants to feel every part of Shane against him. He missed him so much. 

Ilya pulls his mouth away and finds the spot beneath Shane’s ear that he knows will elicit more beautiful little sounds. He is so hard it almost hurts. He has never wanted anyone like this. 

“Bedroom,” Shane rasps. Ilya stands in one fluid motion, trying to keep Shane’s legs around his waist so he can carry him to bed. It’s more unwieldy than he expected; they almost fall to the floor. Shane starts giggling, which makes Ilya laugh because it’s the cutest sound he’s ever heard, possibly better than the little moans. Then they’re laughing and kissing and chasing each other up the stairs and Ilya thinks he is ruined; he has never felt happiness like this before.

Their clothes are off in record time. Shane doesn’t even fold his, which Ilya plans to tease him about afterwards. They’ll probably have to talk afterwards too. That sends a brief panic up Ilya’s spine so he devotes all of his attention to worshipping Shane’s perfect body. He runs his hands over his pecs, tweaking his nipples. He kisses a line down the center of his abs, hungrily. He licks around the head of Shane’s dick, lapping up the precome already leaking there. He runs his tongue up and down the shaft, around his balls, and to the sweet little hole he has missed so much.

As if reading his mind, Shane whispers, “I missed you so much, Ilya, oh my God, I missed you.”

Too much, too much. He’s got to make this man stop talking, he cannot stand hearing these confessions from him. He lurches for the nightstand drawer where he knows the lube and condoms are. He slicks his fingers and gets to work opening Shane up.

How many times has he done this? He bets he could figure out the exact number by looking at the text thread again. It’s been enough times that it feels, again, like coming home to something. 

He has got to stop thinking.

Shane is begging now, “I’m ready, Ilya, please, I’m ready,” and Ilya is afraid he’s going to last about three seconds if Shane keeps talking like this. He forces himself to slow down and breathe. He rolls on the condom and slowly presses in to Shane. He watches his face to make sure it’s okay. Shane’s eyes stay locked on his. Ilya wants to look away–it’s too intimate, gazing into each other’s eyes like this–but he can’t. Shane’s pupils are blown wide, his mouth is open and panting. He is the most beautiful person Ilya has ever seen. 

“Shane,” he lets himself whisper. It is the scariest word he has ever said aloud. He’s rewarded with a blissed out grin from the man underneath him.

“Ilya,” Shane whispers back.

They say each other’s names over and over, getting progressively louder until Shane is spurting all over his stomach and Ilya comes too and collapses on top of him. In the afterglow, neither one speaks. Shane falls asleep with his head resting on Ilya’s chest. He tells himself they can talk more tomorrow. Everything’s going to be fine.

Hopefully.

Chapter End Notes

I saw an interview with HW and CS talking about that scene in the montage where they're kissing while walking up the stairs and they both were like, is that a thing? And I immediately thought of a very sweet ex boyfriend who once walked me backward to his room without taking his hands or his mouth of me. It was unbelievably hot. So it had to be in here.

Also this is about as spicy as it gets because I'm not convinced my future lies in writing porn. I did my best!

Thank you for reading, it is really bringing me joy that anyone cares. Y'all are the best!

Chapter 4: Gonna need more details, babe

Chapter Summary

Shane gives Rose a much anticipated update, because if you don't tell your pretend girlfriend everything, did it even happen?

Chapter Notes

Her call time is early today so Rose has been up before the sun. No message from Shane yet. She hopes she didn’t give him bad advice. She adores him. She meant it last night when she said she wanted to be friends forever. 

She’s in the makeup chair, her arm currently being painted a hideous color that she assumes will look nice on camera, when her phone buzzes. “Finally!” she mutters. Her makeup artist, Vanessa, raises her eyebrows. Rose smiles at her. “I have the best gossip that I cannot share and I’m about to get an update.”

“Mean,” Vanessa says.

“I know, I’m sorry. Maybe I’ll change some details and give you the bare bones.”

“Please do! We’re gonna be here for a while.” 

Rose groans. The full body makeup is… a lot. She’s going to spend more time in this chair than in front of the camera today. This is what you wanted, she reminds herself. This is the job! She picks up her phone.

Shane He just left 

You ???????

Shane We didn’t really talk 🫣

You !!!!!!!!

Shane I mean, I talked.

You I’m gonna need you to get way better at providing details babe

Shane is typing

Shane I told him I wanted us to be something. And he didn’t really answer. And then we had sex.

You Make up sex?

Shane I guess?

You Was it amazing?? These are the details I need, Shane.

Shane Oh my god.

Shane Yes.

Shane Possibly the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. Sorry.

Rose Lololololol don’t apologize, I was there for our sex, it didn’t blow my mind either.

Shane This is a nightmare

Rose No!!! This is friendship!!!

Rose So now what?

Shane I don’t know, honestly. He had to leave early to catch the team flight. He kissed me goodbye and said he would call me later. That’s good, right? That he wants to talk later?

Rose Yes! Definitely good. Tell me more about this best sex you’ve ever had though

Shane Oh my god Rose

Rose Come on, I’m recently single, I gotta live vicariously through you!

Shane Lol. I kind of love you.

Rose I love you too kiddo. And I’m really proud of you 🥰 

Shane Thank you. For everything.

“Must be really good gossip,” Vanessa says, “you’re grinning.”

Rose puts her phone down. “Have you ever just been so fucking happy for someone?” Vanessa nods. “Also I did the fucking Lord’s work last night. Karma better reward me with some hot piece of ass sooner rather than later.”

“Aren’t you dating that hot hockey player?”

“Oh! Yeah. I just meant…”

Vanessa waves her off. “I get you, girl. Between the two of you, schedules are kind of crazy, right?”

“Absolutely. Crazy.”

Rose would have to think more carefully about step two of her plan. Or get better at not running her mouth so much. As if that was possible.

Chapter End Notes

I think I mentioned this in a comment... somewhere. But one of my very old friends from college told me after he watched HR that Rose and Svetlana reminded him of the women friends gay men have when they're still not really out and how important those relationships are to helping those men feel safe and loved and seen, even when they're not ready to share everything. It was honestly one of the most beautiful compliments I've ever received. Also I am obsessed with the idea that Rose and Svetlana are mirror relationships for Shane and Ilya; they both offer them something fundamental and loving.

Writing this has been a really lovely journey. Thanks for reading.

Chapter 5: The morning after (Shane)

Chapter Summary

Shane has no chill waiting for Ilya to text. (Tell me you've never stared at your phone willing it to make a noise and be the Only Person you care to hear from).

Chapter Notes

Great news, I am officially on vacation! That means you get two POVs of the same day. Enjoy!

Shane has been doing calculations in his head since Ilya snuck out of his condo as the sun was rising this morning.

The Raiders would leave the hotel to go to the airport at nine this morning. The flight to Boston is short, less than ninety minutes. It's meant to take off around noon, Ilya had told him. So maybe they get into Boston around 1:30 this afternoon. Shane has no idea how far Ilya’s house is from the airport. Probably more than thirty minutes but less than an hour; that sounds reasonable. So let’s say he gets home, to his house, by three at the latest. Would he unpack first? Throw his practice clothes in the laundry, put his toothbrush and stuff away? Would he have to eat, check his emails, shower? Would 4:00 be too early to call Shane? Would Shane even be home from practice by then? He thought he could be if he hustled out of the arena as soon as they were done. He could put off a post practice shower if it meant talking to Ilya.

He looked at the clock now. 7:13 a.m. He should go back to sleep. He probably only managed to get a few hours last night (though the reason for not sleeping had been extremely worth it). He should be exhausted but he’s wired. He should go for a run; a run will help. He throws on his clothes and his sneakers and steps out into the cold morning air. He grabs a hat at the last second; it really is freezing this morning.

Normally he would leave his phone behind while he’s out. He doesn’t listen to music when he runs, which he knows other people think is weird, but it’s always been his habit. Running quiets his brain. He doesn’t like to interfere with that. This morning is different though: he can’t quite bring himself to leave the phone behind. Ilya’s bus doesn’t leave until 9. He might text before then. Shane doesn’t want to miss even the possibility of communication.

His phone buzzes but it’s just his mom, reminding him about a photoshoot this week. Shit, his parents. He’s going to have to come out to his parents. Then he’ll also have to explain about Rose and the plan to keep being seen together. This is getting too fucking complicated. He feels panic spreading in his chest. He quickens his pace. He can outrun his anxiety, at least temporarily.

Five miles goes by too fast. He’s back inside the condo by 8:10. This day is never going to end.

He’s about to get in the shower when his phone buzzes. He nearly drops it in his rush to look at the screen. 

Lily am I still Lily in your phone

Shane cannot begin to imagine why Ilya is asking him this. He’s afraid he doesn’t know what the right answer is. He decides the truth is the least complicated.

You Yes. 

You Why?

Lily just wondering

Shane stares at his phone. The thrill of hearing from Ilya is quickly replaced by a wave of scrambled thoughts. Should he say something else? Should he ask when they’ll see each other again? He might have to text Rose for advice. He groans aloud at this idea. He has to learn how to interact with Ilya without the help of his ex-girlfriend. Or his pretend girlfriend. He should probably tell Ilya about that, too, but he’d rather do it when they actually talk later. Texts can be misunderstood. Or not understood at all. Like this conversation so far.

You What are you doing right now?

Lily breakfast with team. Marlow asked where I was last night.

You What did you tell him?

Lily to mind his own business, like always. But he laughed. He’s probably relieved I got laid

You Wait, why?

Lily i’ve been in a bad mood for a few weeks. It was probably getting annoying.

Shane rereads this twice. This is good, he thinks. Not that he wants Ilya to be unhappy but Shane has been torturing himself reliving that day in Boston, wishing he had just stayed. The month in between that and reconnecting was horrible for him. It’s a relief to know that Ilya’s been having a tough time too. 

Shane Same, honestly.

Lily probably nobody noticed. You would not show your team your feelings

Shane I guess not.

Shane It was really a shitty month, though. 

Shane I kept wanting to text you but I thought you’d be pissed at me.

Lily is typing

Shane waits, staring at his phone as if he can will Ilya to answer. Lily is typing disappears, then appears again, then disappears. 

Lily i would have answered

Shane’s heart sinks. He really should have reached out after he ran that day. He’d been so stressed at the idea of it being more than just sex between them, he had panicked. He had left before he could think things through. Then he had been too scared to text and apologize. Worse, he had made Ilya (and himself) feel like shit for over a month because he was too cowardly to pick up the phone.

He’s tempted to say sorry again but even he knows that would be annoying at this point. Also it wouldn’t change anything. He has to think of a better reply.

Shane I have to shower, I was on a run.

He cringes. What a dumb fucking thing to say. He’d been waiting all morning to hear from Ilya and now he’s trying to get out of the conversation? What is his problem?

Lily trying to make me hard at breakfast is mean

Lily make it up to me

Lily send a pic

Shane haha very funny

Lily what is joke?

Shane cannot send Ilya a naked selfie. That would be insane. What if his phone got hacked? He doesn't know anything about Ilya’s life in Russia but he reads the news; he knows gay stuff is like, outlawed there. If someone found a naked picture of a man on Ilya’s phone, what would happen to him?

Still. Ilya asked for it. The request itself was kind of sexy. They were just together a couple of hours ago and already Ilya wants to see him again. That’s hard to ignore. Maybe the risk is worth it. Anyway, Shane can crop his face out of the photo. That’s what people do, right? And then he’ll tell Ilya to delete it. To be safe. And he’ll delete it on his end too. He can do this. 

He jogs up the stairs to the en suite bathroom and peels off his shirt. He hesitates about pulling off his sweats. It’ll be sexier if he pulls the waistband down a little instead, he thinks. He’s done ads like that, to show off the V that everyone seems to be obsessed with. Maybe he’ll pull them down farther than he did in the ad campaign. That sounds hot. Right? 

He is sure he’s overthinking this. Just take the fucking picture, he tells himself.

He flips the camera on his phone so he can see himself; he has to make sure he has the right angle. With his free hand, he pushes the waistband of his sweats down just far enough to show the top of his pubic hair. He’s starting to get hard imagining Ilya looking at this photo on the sly in front of his teammates. It’s a humiliating thought but he long ago gave up his pride when it came to Ilya. 

You Delete this, ok? Promise.

Lily delete what?

Shane takes a deep breath and sends the picture. He puts his phone down on the counter next to the sink and turns on the shower as hot as he can tolerate it. The buzz reverberates on the porcelain. He scrambles to look.

Lily i’m definitely not deleting this

You Please?

You We can FaceTime tonight maybe. Then you can see me live

You Or whatever.

Lily or whatever?

You I really am getting in the shower. Call me later?

Lily you’re killing me Jane 🥵

Lily yes I will call

Lily don’t come without me

Shane blushes, even alone in his own bathroom. He’s grinning like an idiot. The risk of sending the photo was definitely worth it. They do have to actually talk about things, though. Hopefully he can convince Ilya of that before they get sidetracked into FaceTime sex. 

He is really not going to make it through this day.

Chapter 6: The morning after (Ilya)

Chapter Summary

Ilya's POV of the morning after

Ilya’s alarm sounds before the sun rises. He’s probably only slept for a couple of hours. It doesn’t matter; he’s pulled all-nighters before for worse reasons. He can sleep on the bus and the plane. Staying up late to fuck Shane had been extremely worth losing sleep over.

Ilya tries to sneak out of bed quietly. He doesn’t want to leave without saying goodbye but he also doesn’t want Shane to corner him into talking again. He has to think about what was said last night some more. He isn’t sure what he wants to do.

That’s not true, he thinks to himself. I know exactly what I want. I just don’t think I can have it.

Shane has led a charmed life: two loving parents, an amazing hockey career, a perfectly laid out retirement plan. Ilya doesn’t begrudge him any of it. But it also means that Shane has no idea that Ilya’s life has been nowhere close to charmed. Shane doesn’t know that Ilya’s mother died so young and tragically. He doesn’t know what it’s like to grow up with a brother and father who hate you, who only talk to you when they want money. Shane doesn’t know that Ilya’s father is dying slowly, that every time Ilya talks to him on the phone, his father is more disoriented and sometimes even scared. Shane has two loving parents who have devoted themselves to his career. When Ilya’s father remembers who he’s speaking to, he has nothing but criticism to offer Ilya. Ultimately, there is no family he wants to claim, except Svetlana. Another part of his life he fears Shane will not understand.

Ilya reminds himself that he hasn't given Shane a chance to understand. Shane doesn’t know about any of these things because Ilya has not told him. Before that day with the tuna melts (will Ilya ever be able to eat a fucking tuna melt again? The very idea turns his stomach), they had barely talked about anything. Ilya usually didn’t talk in depth with his hookups, again except for Sveta. She was the only person he cared to sleep with and also talk to. Until now. Until Shane.

He is collecting his clothes from the bedroom floor when he realizes Shane is awake and staring at him. “Utro dobroye,” Ilya tells him.

Shane frowns. “Good morning?”

“Very good, Hollander. You will learn Russian by what is it called, you will soak it in?”

“Osmosis?”

“Da, you will learn Russian by osmosis. I will fuck it into you.”

Shane laughs. He sits up and starts getting dressed. He is way more focused on the task than he needs to be, staring pointedly at his clothes instead of looking up at Ilya. “You have to leave already?”

“Yes, probably. Sneak back in before anyone notices I am gone.”

Shane nods. “I’ll walk you out.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” This, delivered quietly, shyly. Ilya’s heart swells. He tries not to show it. Instead he lets Shane take his hand loosely and lead him down the stairs to the front door. 

“Front door, brave,” Ilya cracks. He can’t help himself. He wants to keep poking Shane, to see if he really was serious last night about wanting Ilya. This is how I am. You still want?

Shane ignores the little joke. He puts his hands firmly on Ilya’s waist and looks him in the eyes. “Will you call me later?” he asks, in the same shy, quiet voice. 

Ilya does not trust himself to speak. He nods. He wraps his arms around Shane and they stand there, holding each other for a minute. This is new. They’ve never hugged goodbye before. They’ve actually barely said goodbye to each other most times, now that Ilya thinks about it. He finds holding each other like this almost as good as kissing would be. Almost. 

He pulls back just enough to press his lips against Shane’s. “Bye,” he whispers into his mouth. The kiss goes on for so long, Ilya’s cab honks. He grins at Shane and jogs to the waiting car. 

Sneaking into the hotel room is easy. Marlow is passed out on the other bed, spooning the woman he was talking to last night when Ilya left the club. Good thing Ilya had found another room last night. He could probably avoid questions about it if he kept Marly talking about this girl. Marly was often convinced he had just met the great love of his life; he would probably talk about her the whole way to the airport if Ilya got him started, thus sparing Ilya from having to answer any questions of his own.

By the time he’s out of the shower, the mystery girl has left. Marlow is sitting up in bed, scrolling his phone and grinning. He barely looks up at his roommate. “Hot date last night?”

Ilya snorts. “For both of us probably.”

“I think this is it, Rozy.”

“You said that in the last city we were in.”

“Yeah well, look how that worked out.” He stretched and moved to get up and start dressing. “You and that Montreal girl kiss and make up? Or you went home with the other one?”

Ilya smiles and shakes his head. “Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell, Clifford.”

Cliff laughs. “Fucking amazing. Clifford. You crack me up, Roz.”

They make their way downstairs to have breakfast with their teammates. Connors is recounting his night out with enough details that Ilya thinks he’s mostly lying. When asked about where Ilya snuck off to after the club, he raises an eyebrow and grins. The other guys laugh. They delight in Ilya’s refusal to share hookup stories with the team. They’ve seen the women he pulls; they would not be shy about providing every detail the next morning if they had game like that. 

He reaches into his pocket for his phone. He only left Shane’s a couple of hours ago. He had said he would call later today; it would be silly to text him now. Still, his fingers went automatically to their text thread. He stared at his last message: here. He ran his thumb over the word like it contained some sacred secret. Maybe it kind of did. It was proof, anyway, that last night had happened. 

He supposes they’ll have to have a real conversation later. He was able to put it off last night with sex (classic Ilya) but he didn’t think that would work forever. Shane seemed determined to talk about his feelings. Which meant Ilya would have to talk about his. The thought made him cringe.

He wonders idly if Shane’s teammates know about Lily. Cliff definitely knew about Jane, though he hadn’t asked her name. He’s close to Marlow but their shared interests include hockey and women. He’s not sure how Marly would take it if Ilya told him about his sexuality. Not that he planned to tell anyone. He wouldn’t be able to return to Russia if he came out. Or he could try going back and then be promptly arrested. Or worse. 

He can’t continue down that path of thinking. There is no positive end that he can see. The only thing he knows for sure right now is that he wants to see Shane again. Maybe he can talk him into sending a selfie. He imagines Shane will balk at the request but that just makes it more fun. He starts typing, I miss you, then promptly erases that. Nope. Bad idea. He tries again: last night was. Nope. Delete that one too. Last night was amazing but he isn’t ready to tell Shane that. He can’t put it in writing. He sticks with something safe. Am I still in your phone as Lily?

Shane texts back quickly enough that Ilya wonders if he’s just been staring at his phone for the past two hours. The idea makes Ilya ridiculously pleased. So pleased that he takes a little risk and tells Shane (part of) the truth: that he’s been in a pissy mood for weeks. He snorts when Shane answers that he felt the same. Ilya can’t imagine Shane letting anyone see he was struggling. Also, he started very publicly dating a beautiful actress like five seconds after… whatever had happened. Ilya was not convinced Shane had had that bad a time.

Shane It was really a shitty month, though. 

Shane I kept wanting to text you but I thought you’d be pissed at me.

This was interesting information. Shane had been thinking about him? Wanting to text him? Ilya tries a couple of replies: what did you want to say? Why didn’t you? We didn’t have to

In the end he settles on another truth: he tells Shane he would have answered, if Shane had texted. Luckily Shane changes the subject to his shower, which is the perfect segue to ask for a picture. This way, he avoids more serious conversation when he’s running on fumes and sitting with his teammates in some hotel lobby.

He’s pleasantly surprised how quickly he gets Shane to agree to send the picture. He must feel really bad for the whole… before. Ilya files that information away for later. He angles his phone away from the table to view the photo and nearly gasps aloud. Jesus Christ, the man is hot. Next time Ilya is going to leave a mark on that perfect skin so Shane doesn’t forget about him again. 

“What’s got you blushing like that Rozy?” Marly crows from across the table. 

Ilya shoves his phone in his pocket. “I told you, Marlow–”

“--Russians don’t blush, yeah yeah.”

Later, on the bus, Marlow turns to him with his Sincere Face. Ilya braces himself. “Roz. I just want you to know, I’m happy for you. This is the best you’ve looked in a long time, brother.” Ilya nods, smiling. He is the best he’s been in a long time. Now he just has to figure out a way to not fuck it up again.

Chapter 7: Rose is Shane's emotional support person

Chapter Summary

Shane relies on Rose for more guidance. Luckily for him, she's happy to give it.

Chapter Notes

Coordinating their schedules is difficult but shooting is continuing in Montreal, which makes it easy enough for Rose and Shane to keep their “romance” alive. There’s a decent amount of press around her for the first time in her career and she wants to capitalize on it. She explains this to Shane, who has only a loose understanding of publicity despite being in ad campaigns every five seconds. “My motives are not totally pure,” she tells him. “The more I’m photographed before the movie comes out, the more likely I’ll get offered something else. So I’m kind of using you, honestly.”

Shane doesn’t mind. “We’re using each other,” he corrects her.

Things are going better than he expected. He sees Rose every week or two, for dinner usually, or lunch if that works better. She introduces him to a Montreal-based stylist she likes from Instagram, who helps him get a wardrobe fit for a grownup instead of a high school athlete. He’s playing extremely well. He knows his best  years are ahead of him now; he’s about to be in his prime. He talks to Ilya a lot more too. They text and call and occasionally FaceTime. Things are almost perfect.

Except he hasn’t told his parents that he's gay. 

They’re thrilled he’s dating Rose. His mom has been hinting (with more frequency over the past month) that they’d like to meet her. Shane’s been putting them off, not wanting to take the lie that much further. It’s one thing to let his teammates and the press assume this relationship is romantic; it’s another thing to straight up lie to his parents. He needs Rose to help him figure something out. Again. His debt to her seems to be growing.

“What do you think is going to happen if you just tell them?” she asks over dinner one night. They’re at some new restaurant Rose picked. They were photographed walking in together; he assumes they’ll also be photographed leaving. He has to remember to grab her hand on the way out. “Like, do you think they’ll freak out?”

“No, I don’t think so. I just, like… what do I say? Mom, Dad, I’m gay? And don’t worry, my girlfriend knows and is cool with it?”

Rose laughs. “Maybe one detail at a time.”

He sighs. “It’s not that I think they’ll be mad exactly. Maybe disappointed?”

“What, in you? Their extremely successful, rich, handsome son? Unlikely.”

“I guess you’re right. Ugh. I should tell them. Soon, I guess.”

Rose smiled at him sympathetically. “I think it’ll help. You already put so much pressure on yourself. The people who love you are going to support you, no matter what.”

Shane hoped she was right.

Chapter End Notes

This one was short and sweet. The next one, from Ilya's POV, is a little more sad and tender. But never fear! This is a "nothing really bad happens" kind of story. I don't know about y'all but my mental health is a delicate thing at the moment. I gotta keep some joy!

Chapter 8: Ilya has Svetlana (thank God for that)

Chapter Summary

After his father's funeral, Ilya has to tell Svetlana about his plan to never return to their home country. And he has to tell her about Shane.

Ilya is staring out of the window of his Moscow apartment, memorizing the view. It’s not that he’ll miss it, exactly. The apartment hasn't necessarily felt like home. It's only ever been a place to rest his body in between hockey seasons and try to avoid his father and brother. That’s over now, he supposes. He won’t be coming back here anymore. He still isn't sure how he feels about that. There is some sadness, he supposes; he was born here after all. He thinks and dreams in Russian. His English is good but there are some things that don't translate. So yes, some sadness about leaving his home country. But more than that, there is relief. He will never again have to brace himself for a phone call from his angry, confused father or his demanding, asshole brother. He will also never see his mother's grave again. That part is the most difficult, he thinks. He fingers the cross necklace, letting the points dig into the pad of his thumb. He hopes his mother knows that he doesn't need to visit her tomb to remember her. She is with him all the time. 

He is lost in these thoughts when Svetlana materializes behind him and rests her forehead between his shoulder blades. She snakes her arms around his waist. He takes one of her hands in his. They stand like that for a few minutes before he turns around to look at her. 

“I have to talk to you about something.”

She nods, waiting. He leads her to the bedroom by the hand. They lie down together. They’ve laid like this a thousand times: here in Moscow, sometimes in Boston, once in a very fancy Croatian hotel room when Ilya had taken her on a vacation for her 20th birthday. They are as comfortable together as any two people could be. Despite that, Ilya cannot seem to find the words he needs to tell her.

“Ilyusha,” she says quietly. “Tell me.”

He stares at the ceiling. He should look at her but he can’t. “I am not coming back here.” She says nothing. Waits. “I can’t.”

“So we will see each other in Boston. I am not worried.”

“It’s not just that.” A longer pause now. Svetlana is patient. She knows Ilya; she knows he cannot be rushed or crowded. “I am doing something… stupid, probably. But I cannot stop.”

“Stupid how? You are hurting yourself?” She had often feared that Ilya has his mother’s genes. They have never discussed it but Svetlana has always kept a worried eye on him when he did not seem like himself. She would not miss the signs, she promised herself (and Irina). She would keep Ilya safe. She loves him.

“No, no. Nothing like that. I think I am in love with someone.”

Svetlana rolls toward him so she can look in his eyes. She is grinning. “I knew it!” she crows. “It’s Jane, yes?” Ilya covers his eyes with his arm. Svetlana laughs at him. “Are you just figuring this out? For years you’ve been glued to your phone talking to him.”

“How–how did you know he’s a him?”

Svetlana rolls her eyes. “Because if he was a woman, you would not be so secretive. I know you, Ilyusha. You cannot hide from me. Who is he?”

Ilya grimaces. This part will be the hardest, he is sure. “Do not scream.” Svetlana raises an eyebrow and waits. “It’s Shane. Hollander. We’ve been fucking since… for a long time.”

To her credit, Svetlana does not scream. She is Russian, after all; she can keep her face still. Ultimately she can’t help herself and devolves into giggles. “Ilya Rozanov, you have lost your mind. What… How!”

“I don’t know! It just… started. And then I couldn’t stop it. I love him, Sveta. It’s killing me.”

“And he loves you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s hard to talk about. We aren’t together that often.”

“So this thing with Rose Landry is what? Cover?”

Ilya nods. “Not at first but now, yes. They are… helping each other.”

Svetlana considers this for a minute. “Smart. Keeps the press interested, helps them both be popular, helps him stay hidden. And you?”

“What about me?”

“You need a cover too. I imagine if you’ve stopped fucking me, you’ve stopped fucking everyone else.”

Ilya laughs now. “You are the only woman I can get?”

“No but I know if you can resist me, you have lost interest in all women.” She flops down onto her back again. “I want to meet him, this man who has ruined you for everyone else.”

Ilya snorts. “Everyone thinks we hate each other. We can’t be seen in public like that.”

“You can if you are on a double date with your respective beautiful girlfriends.”

Ilya rolls over now to stare at her. She is grinning like a gorgeous little devil. Ilya grins back. “You are very smart.”

“And beautiful and charming, yes, yes, I know.” He tickles her, which devolves into a quick wrestling match, which ends when Svetlana kisses him lightly on the mouth. “I would do anything for you, Ilya. Do not forget this.”

He nods, unable to trust his voice. He rests his head in the crook of her neck and lets himself give in to the tears that have threatened to spill all day. He cries in her arms until he is empty. Then he sits up and calls Shane.

Chapter 9: Double Date (say yes)

Chapter Summary

Ilya convinces Shane this is a good idea. It turns out, it really kind of is.

Chapter Notes

I love a double date. I actually would pay good money to see this one live. Enjoy!

To no one’s surprise, Shane took a significant amount of convincing that a double date before the All Star break was a really good idea.

Ilya actually wished he had Rose Landry’s number. He should have bypassed his boyfriend completely and gone right to the other fake girlfriend. That is, if he could call Shane his boyfriend. They hadn’t really talked about that. But Ilya was not in a rush. He had never put a label on a relationship in his life. He honestly didn’t even know how to start the conversation. 

So instead he focused on the task at hand: convincing Shane that a double date with both of their beards would be fun. And hilarious, honestly.

“You want to what?” Shane nearly shrieked the next time they FaceTimed. He looked absolutely panic-stricken, which Ilya thought was an overreaction.

“Relax, Hollander. Listen.”

“Listen to what, exactly? Why it’s a great idea for you and me to be seen in public together? When everyone thinks we hate each other and have for years? I thought the plan was to fly under the radar.”

“That is your plan. But listen–”

“It’s both of our plans, we figured it out together, remember?”

“Yes, I remember. Will you please take a breath and listen to me?” Shane did as he was directed. Ilya loved when Shane did what he said. Maybe they could get this over with quickly and he could get next convince Shane to have phone sex. “I told Svetlana about us. After the funeral.” Shane is quiet. He had told Ilya how much he hated that he wasn’t able to be in Moscow for the funeral. They both knew the very idea was a fantasy, both because of logistics and safety, but still. Shane hated that Ilya was stuck burying his father with people who hated him. His voice had sounded wrecked the couple of times they spoke on the phone during those few days. Shane had wanted to be with him, consequences and practicalities be damned. 

Ilya continues: “She wants to meet you. Which I want, too. I will not go back to Russia. She is my only connection there now.”

“You’re not going back?”

Ilya shakes his head. “Too complicated. Too hard. Anyway, there is nothing there for me now.” What I want is here, he thinks but does not dare to say. This is precarious and new, this thing they are building. He is still afraid. “So, this is important to me, for you to meet her.”

Shane exhales. “I get that. I just… How will this work?”

“Ah, this is when I tell you that Sveta is smarter than me.” Shane snorts. “Fuck off, Hollander, your girlfriend had to help you figure out that you are gay. Listen!” He can see Shane about to protest. “Listen. There are many pictures of me and Svetlana in Boston together. There are many pictures of you and Rose Landry.”

“You can just call her Rose, you know.”

Ilya ignores this. “So everyone thinks these are, what do you call, established relationships, yes?” Shane nods. “All Star game is coming up. We are on the same team. We will have to show how we get along. Maybe this is a good enough excuse, for us to meet up before we go to Florida.”

Shane is quiet for a long time. Ilya waits. He takes the time to admire the freckles he has become obsessed with, the mouth that he misses so much. He is just starting to daydream about what he can make that mouth do when Shane finally answers. “Okay. Let me ask Rose.”

“She will say yes. She loves to have her picture taken.”

Shane laughs. “As opposed to you?”

“What can I say, camera loves me. Good thing too, or else CCM would not have begged me to be in their commercial and we would not be here now.”

“Oh please, you think that’s the only reason we’re together now?”

Ilya raises his eyebrows. “Did you have a plan to get me into bed, Hollander? You did not try it as far as I remember. I had to seduce you.”

“You had to, huh.”

Ilya grins. “Take off your clothes.”

“What?”

“Come on, I miss you. I want you.”

Shane blushes. He fiddles with the end of his t-shirt. “You miss me?”

“Ugh, Hollander, do not make it weird. Come on.”

“What about… we have to figure out the details, right?”

“Let Sveta and Rose do it, they’re better at it anyway. Do not make me beg, Shane.”

A smile comes over Shane’s face at that. “I think I’d like to see that.”

When they finally say goodbye (with both the double date question answered and the hoped-for phone sex successfully completed), Shane whispers, “I miss you, too.”

Ilya is nearly undone. “See you soon,” he promises.  

***

Shane is unreasonably nervous to meet Svetlana. Not because she’s beautiful–she is but Shane already knew that. Ilya wasn’t the only one studying pictures while they were apart for those weeks. He’s nervous because he realizes he doesn’t know all that much about Ilya’s life and this woman knows everything. He wonders if he’ll be able to get her alone at some point in the evening and get some information. Asking Ilya direct questions doesn’t always lead to direct answers. It might be easier to get someone else to tell him at least some of what he wants to know.

Rose is thrilled. She tells Shane she’s been texting with Svetlana and she is “already low-key obsessed with her,” which Shane guesses is a good thing. Rose's excitement helps him feel less anxious about the whole thing. Dinner won't be that awkward if she's there with him; she could talk to a brick wall. Once again, he is wildly grateful that she decided to stick around after the club that night. She’s been amazing with all of this.

Which is why he agrees to let her dress him up like a Ken doll for the date. She comes to his condo and rifles through his closet of new clothes, laying them out on the bed for him. She chatters away the whole time, explaining how she and Svetlana figured out all the details for tonight. First dinner, then a club, which she knows Shane hates, but it’ll be fun for everyone else so, “just suck it up.” This is also what she says when he frowns at her unbuttoning an extra button on the shirt he’s just put on. “You can not look this hot and keep the goods covered up,” she insists.

They are eating at some high end Montreal restaurant that apparently often has paparazzi stationed outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone famous enough to earn them a few dollars with Page Six or one of the other sites. Shane absolutely does not understand other people’s obsession with celebrities, but then he doesn’t understand a lot of things about other people. 

He opens the door for Rose; she smiles back at him. She often tells him it’s a shame he’s gay; he has the most perfect manners of anyone she’s ever dated. Shane privately thinks the bar is way too low if basic courtesy is an outlier. Still, he’s charmed (and lightly embarrassed) by her compliments, so he takes them happily.

They’ve arrived first, which is good, he thinks. He can get settled maybe before Ilya and Svetlana walk in and he has to pretend to be normal. Rose squeezes his arm. “Relax,” she whispers. “We’re going to have fun.”

He nods. They’re going to have fun. On a fake double date. With his sort of boyfriend. Very normal stuff.

Ilya and Svetlana nearly float into the restaurant. Immediately all eyes turn to them. Shane can understand why; they make an absolutely striking couple. He and Rose look nice together, he thinks, but in a “cute couple next door” kind of way. Ilya and Svetlana together look like sex on legs. Shane is breathless. Rose pokes him.

“Hollander,” Ilya says, his signature crooked grin making Shane blush immediately. “Nice to see you.” He holds out his hand for Shane to shake, giving it an extra squeeze before he lets go. “This is Svetlana Vetrova.” She leans into Shane and kisses him on both cheeks, while Rose and Ilya do the same. Shane has the giddy impulse to start giggling. He feels like he’s on a movie set. Actually, maybe that will help him, if he pretends he’s playing a part. He decides that will be his strategy. Also alcohol.

Ilya must have a similar idea because as soon as they're seated by the maitre’d and the server appears with a wine list, Ilya chooses a bottle for the table. Svetlana is looking over her shoulder and raises her eyebrows. “Did you pick that one because it’s expensive or because you suddenly know about wine?”

Ilya grins at her. “I have good taste.” 

Svetlana rolls her eyes. “Obviously.”

This makes Rose laugh. “You’ve known each other a long time,” she observes.

“Since childhood,” Svetlana says. “Which was not so long ago. We are still young.”

“Ilya’s getting old in hockey years,” Shane jokes, surprising the other three (and himself a little). 

“I am your age, Hollander.”

“Four months older. Also I’m in better shape.”

“Is this how you guys flirt with each other?” Rose looks at Svetlana and rolls her eyes. “Why are men like this?”

Svetlana smiles back at her. “Hockey players only know how to shit talk.” She leans forward across the table toward Rose. “Don’t let Ilya fool you though. Flirting is almost his entire personality. He’s toning it down.”

Shane is getting anxious. “Can we change the subject please?” He looks around to see if anyone is close enough to overhear.

“Relax,” Rose says. “No one is listening to us. If you’re worried, put your arm around me. You’ll look very possessive in front of your sworn enemy.” Shane glares at her but obeys. She’s usually right.

Dinner passes quite pleasantly, actually. They talk about hockey, about cities they’ve traveled to, about Rose’s run-ins with more famous actors. Shane is relieved to see that Svetlana is easy to be around. He tries not to look at Ilya too much but after a second glass of wine, he kind of forgets and lets his eyes slide over to him a little more. Ilya must notice; he nudges his foot against Shane’s under the table. 

Ilya pays the bill with a flourish. All four of them stand and make their way to the door, the women in front of them, arms linked while they whisper to each other. (Tomorrow Shane will discover that a photographer manages to capture this moment: Shane and Ilya looking fondly at the women in front of them as they walk down the street to a nearby club).

Once inside the place (a different one from last time, thank God), shots are ordered. A third drink is exactly what Shane needs to convince him to dance. He is vaguely aware that people have noticed the four of them, most likely because of Rose. He is also vaguely aware that some of those people have camera phones and are likely taking their picture but he can’t bring himself to care. This is much better than he imagined when Ilya suggested it. The four of them are all dancing together so he can let his shoulder or arm brush against Ilya every so often without anyone thinking anything of it. Ilya is looking at him like he wants to devour him. The drinks have worked to make it so that Shane can’t even bring himself to care if anyone else can see Ilya looking at him that way. This might be the most fun he’s ever had.

They stay out later than Shane is used to before all piling into the same cab back to Shane’s condo. The other three crack open another bottle of wine (did Shane buy that or did Ilya leave it last time? He can’t remember). They are joking and laughing and Shane is grinning, listening to everyone’s voices winding together around him. He falls asleep with his head resting on Ilya’s thigh, safe and happy and comfortable.

Chapter 10: Post Mortem

Chapter Summary

The night is recounted and reviewed as a success

Chapter Notes

I love a post-mortem. It is, arguably, almost as fun as the actual night out. Sometimes when my college friends and I are together, we spend hours doing post-mortems of nights that happened in the mid-aughts. Those are belly laugh visits. I hope you get belly laughs today.

Shane wakes up in bed next to Ilya, with a dim memory of the other man carrying him up the stairs last night. The inside of his mouth is cottony and dry. His head hurts. But he’s waking up next to Ilya, which is quickly becoming his favorite way to begin the day. 

He should get up and make coffee. Did the girls stay last night too? He should fix something for breakfast. Real food, not smoothies probably. Ilya rolls over and throws an arm around Shane, essentially trapping him in the bed. Well. Breakfast can wait, he supposes. 

He reaches for his phone and does a double take at the number of notifications and texts. He opens Instagram first. 

There it is, just as they planned: a picture of them leaving the restaurant as a group, the women in front with their arms linked, the men behind them. Ilya’s hand is on the small of Svetlana’s back; that was smart, Shane thinks. He happens to be looking fondly at Rose, which also helps sell the narrative. It’s a very clear shot, definitely taken by a professional. It looks good, Shane thinks. Natural.

The other photos are blurrier, mostly cell phone photos taken from some distance on the dance floor of the club: Rose with her arms around Shane’s neck; Ilya leaning down to say something in Svetlana’s ear. The only one that gives Shane pause is one of the two women dancing with each other and Ilya and Shane leaned just slightly into each other’s shoulders. He zooms in on that one, trying to see if anyone else would notice the way his hand hovers just over Ilya’s, as if he was about to grab it. He thinks he’s being paranoid but he can’t be sure. 

He hears movement down the hall so he wiggles out of Ilya’s arm and throws on clothes. He has managed to start the coffee when Rose appears, wearing only one of Ilya’s t-shirts. Shane blushes at the sight, even though he’s seen her naked. Something about this feels more intimate than when they had sex.

She grins at him. “You are a lightweight. But a very fun one.”

Shane smiles. “Was I? Fun?”

“Yes! And now you’ve made coffee, which makes you my favorite human being on Earth.” She takes a tentative sip of the cup Shane has handed to her, fixed the way she likes it. “Of course you remember how I take my coffee. Ugh. All the good ones are gay.”

“I think your bar for men is way too low.”

“No shit.” She considers him for a moment. “Did you have fun last night?”

“Yeah. Surprisingly. I’m a little anxious this morning about the pictures but I think I’m being paranoid.”

“You for sure are. They’re perfect! They should give you good cover for a while.”

Shane nods. “I still kind of can’t believe you’re doing all this for me.”

“Please, you know it’s for me too. My agent has some offers to share with me today, the press is really helping. Everybody wins!”

Svetlana appears at this moment, also clad in only a t-shirt. Shane thinks his whole body might be blushing now. He squeaks out, “Dobraye ootra, Svetlana.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Dobraye ootra. Very nice, Hollander. And coffee. I see why Ilyusha is so obsessed with you: hot and nice.” He files away the word “obsessed” to contemplate later. If Svetlana said it, it must be true. Rose asks if Ilya is still sleeping and Svetlana snorts. “He will sleep until noon if you let him. I don’t know how he gets up for practice in the morning.”

“Was he always like that? Like, growing up?” Shane is hoping his voice sounds normal. He wants to prod Ilya's oldest friend for information; this feels like a neutral place to start.

Svetlana considers him for a moment. “Mmm. Yes. Though not often; his father.” She waves a hand dismissively and does not elaborate further. Her expression tells Shane she doesn’t plan on offering anything more.

“Well I’m sorry I can’t stay to say goodbye to him.” Rose leans over to air kiss Svetlana and squeeze Shane. “Last night was a blast, let’s do it again! I have to take a nap before my call time, the makeup artist is going to give me shit about the circles under my eyes if I don’t get some sleep.”

“Cold teabags,” Svetlana advises. 

“Beautiful and a genius, God forbid I could be a lesbian and lock you down. I’m going to throw on my clothes and call the car. You want a ride?”

“No, thank you. I am also not a morning person, I need a few minutes.” Rose nods and pads up the stairs, leaving them alone for a few minutes. Shane tries to think up another neutral sounding question. Svetlana is staring at him. “What is it, Hollander? You look nervous again.”

“I do? I mean… yeah, I guess I’m nervous a lot. Kind of. Ilya’s told you, probably.”

“I am sure you have noticed Ilyusha is not big on sharing.”

Shane chuckles. “Yeah, it’s kind of like pulling teeth. Is that, um, a Russian thing, the way you’re saying his name?”

“Yes. In Russian, we are always using smaller names–I don’t actually know how to say it in English–”

“Like a nickname?”

“Ah, yes. Cute. Ilyusha is like, childhood name for him. He calls me Sveta or sometimes Svetoshka when he is being very sweet.”

“He can be sweet when he wants to be.”

Svetlana considers him for a moment. “If you have seen that side of him, it must be very serious.” Shane blushes for about the fifteenth time that morning. “He does not often show it to others.”

Rose saves him from having to answer that by bounding down the stairs. “I’m running out, text me later, bye!” Just like that, she’s out the door.

“I know you want to hear more but… Ilyusha has to tell you his own secrets, I think. He will. You have to be patient.”

“I can be patient,” he assures her. “I’ve been waiting to be with him for… a long time. I’m just happy that’s what he wants, you know? I kind of fucked up before and I was afraid–I thought that was it. It sucked.”

“Don’t do it again,” Svetlana advises. Shane laughs. “I am serious, Shane Hollander.”

“I know. I am too. I promise.”

Svetlana nods and pats him on the arm. “I am going to wake Sleeping Beauty. We have a flight to catch.”

Shane exhales as she disappears up the stairs. He didn’t realize he had been holding his breath. He looks at the photos again and smiles this time. He’s not sure how long they can keep this up but so far, this is the happiest he’s been in a long time. He’ll do anything to keep it that way.

Chapter 11: Your mom will love me (because she loves you)

Chapter Summary

Yuna figures it out because... it's right in front of her face. And she does not hesitate to offer her unconditional love.

Chapter Notes

I was going to wait to post this one but in light of SCOTUS's bullshit decision about conversion therapy today, I decided not to wait. If you aren't in the US, congratulations. If you are and you're hurting, I hope this brings you some comfort.

I am a mother and a therapist so please trust me when I tell you this: conversion therapy is harmful. Full stop. It does not help anyone and, worse, we know that it causes actual harm to actual queer and trans kids. It should not exist. Any therapist who offers it should be stripped of their license. They are not practicing by the ethics of their chosen profession.

There are a lot of things to worry about when you become a parent. The list is actually almost infinite. One of the few things I never, ever worry about is who my kid might fall in love with (unless that person happens to be an asshole. And anyone can be an asshole!). The worst thing--the absolute most unimaginable thing--would be to lose my kid. The worst thing could never be about their sexuality or their gender identity.

Anyway. That is a lot for fan fic on the internet but maybe someone needed to hear it. And you get to hear it from Yuna too in this chapter. If your mom isn't like that, Yuna can be your mom. And I will be, too.

Take good care of yourself.

Yuna knows she can leave the hospital now. Shane is awake (though loopy). He didn’t need surgery (thank God). All in all, the initial fear and danger have passed. She’s been up all night. She could use a shower and some food. She sent David to Shane’s condo an hour ago to shower and change; maybe she’ll leave when he comes back. 

Then again, maybe she won’t.

Yuna knows hockey injuries. She’s seen plenty of bad hits on the ice. Once in college David got knocked into the boards so hard he ended up out for a week with a concussion. That was horrible to watch. Watching her son be taken off the ice on a stretcher was infinitely worse. 

He’s been lucky, she knows. This is the first time he’s gotten injured (except for a broken arm when he was twelve that he tried to hide from everyone so he could keep playing hockey). A part of her had maybe thought (hoped, prayed) that his luck would follow him through his career. Then last night happened. 

It had been a clean hit, she knew this. It wasn't illegal or even malicious, as far as she could tell. But he had laid there motionless for so long. She could not go to the ice to see if he was awake or talking. She only saw the medics put him on a backboard and take him away. She and David had run to their car and sped to the hospital like they were on fire. She could not let herself think of the worst case scenario and yet it was all she could think about until she was able to physically put her eyes on him.

And he was fine! He was half asleep in a hospital bed with a bruise on his face and his arm in a sling for the broken collarbone but it could have been much, much worse. Yuna knows this. She feels a wave of relief every time he opens his eyes and gives her a sleepy smile. She also knows she can’t just leave him here alone. She’ll just wait a little longer.

She must fall asleep for a minute; a knock on the door startles her awake. She blinks twice at the tall man standing in the doorway before she recognizes him. Rozanov? Ilya Rozanov? Shane’s sworn enemy and hockey rival is here? 

Maybe she’s being a little dramatic. The lack of sleep must be getting to her. She knows the league has played up the rivalry over the years. Rozanov and Shane had certainly leaned into the competition; maybe there was more mutual respect that she knew about. She and David had both been surprised at the boys’ apparent chemistry during the All Star game a couple of months ago. She could accept that they were friendly, if not actual friends. However, she had also been a Metros fan for her entire life, which meant she automatically hated the Boston Raiders and everyone associated with them, most especially their cocky (albeit handsome) captain.

“Ah, hello,” Rozanov says quietly. He looks vaguely embarrassed. “I did not realize you were here. Sorry for intrusion.”

Yuna frowns. Polite, she thinks. That’s something. “I’m surprised you’re here,” she says, not unkindly. Not warmly either, to be fair. 

Before Rozanov can answer, Shane wakes up and grins. “Iiiiiilya!”

Both Yuna and Rozanov turn to Shane, who is grinning like he’s never been so happy to see someone in his life. Yuna can’t help but smile too. Shane on drugs is adorable.

“Mom, it’s Ilya!”

“I see, honey.”

Rozanov (Ilya to her son, it seems) clears his throat and looks meaningfully at Shane. “How are you doing?”

“Fine! I mean, broken collarbone and concussion, out for the play-offs but you know…”

“Could have been worse,” Rozanov supplies.

“Yeah. And now you’re here! Com’ere.”

Rozanov glances at Yuna. Shane looks over at her like he’s just remembered she’s in the room. He blushes. She pretends not to notice as she stands. “I’m going to get a cup of coffee. I’ll be right back.” She slips out of the room and lingers outside the door.

It’s not that she wants to invade Shane’s privacy; she would never do that! It’s just… surprising, his reaction to seeing Rozanov–Ilya. She didn’t realize they were so friendly. The All Star game was one thing. Shane had always been a good sport. She assumed that explained the way he and Rozanov had played together. Also, a team captain visiting another team’s injured captain wasn’t so out of the ordinary. It was another example of good sportsmanship. Still, the way Shane looked at Rozanov was… more than that. So she’s not exactly rushing down to the lobby’s coffee cart. She’s not eavesdropping, exactly, just thinking. With her ear near the door.

She can’t really hear anything, just the muffled sounds of two deep voices. Before she can think better of it, she peeks into the little window on the door. She gasps aloud. Rozanov is holding Shane’s hand. It dawns on her that she is spying on an intimate moment between her son and his… something. Not his rival, certainly. She leans back against the wall and takes a deep breath. 

This doesn’t make any sense. Not the part that Shane is holding hands with a man exactly; she and David have wondered to each other more than once if Shane is queer. Dating Rose Landry had been evidence that he wasn’t ready to talk about it though, if there was something to talk about, so they had left it alone. Also, was he still dating Rose? He hadn’t said anything about them breaking up and Yuna cannot imagine her son being unfaithful to anyone. Maybe she was mistaken. She hasn’t slept all night, maybe her vision is blurry. She decides to look again, to double check. 

Now Ilya is leaned over the bed, his forehead pressed to Shane’s. Oh this is definitely something. She looks around the hallway. All they need is for some nurse or doctor to walk into the room and catch this. Patient privacy should be protected, sure, but this would be too tempting not to chatter about. Idle chatter between coworkers could lead to a rumor starting. A rumor could turn into–

She gently eases the door open and clears her throat. Rozanov springs back from the bed like he’s been bitten by something. Shane looks at his mother with genuine fear in his eyes. That look broke her heart. She immediately tries to put him at ease. “Honey. I’m sorry. I got anxious that someone would come by and see–whatever is happening here.” Shane opens his mouth, presumably to explain, but she holds up a hand. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I really am sorry, I didn’t mean to invade a… a private moment.”

“I should be going,” Rozanov says quickly. He slides his eyes to Shane and then towards Yuna. She steps toward him and opens her arms. He hesitates for a second but steps forward to accept the hug. 

“Thank you for coming to see him,” she says. He nods. He turns back to look at Shane before he slides out of the hospital room door. “Shane. Honey.”

“I think if I weren’t on so much morphine I would be really upset.”

She starts laughing, which makes Shane laugh too. “Oh honey, I am so sorry, we don’t have to–we can talk about it later, okay? I didn’t mean to corner you like that."

“I know, Mom. It’s okay. We’re usually more careful. He was scared. I scared him.”

Yuna tries not to react at “usually.” She will file that away for later. She has about one hundred questions but Shane is stuck in a hospital bed and high on pain meds and she knows it isn’t fair to ask any of them right now. “Your father’s going to be back soon. And I’m going to go shower and put on other clothes. And we can talk about it… when you come home with us. To Ottawa for a while, okay?”

He nods. “We’ll talk about it when we get home. To Ottawa.” She sits down heavily in the chair and stairs at the door. He starts giggling again. “Hey, Mom?”

“Yes, sweetie.”

“Thanks for not freaking out.”

She turns to him, her only son, her sweet Shane, who has never once made her freak out. Not when he was a toddler and not when he was a teenager. He has only ever made her proud. Has she told him that enough? Has she told him that there is no choice he can make, no person he could be, that she would not move mountains to protect? Has she told him that she would love anyone he loved, that she and David only want him to be loved, by someone, by anyone, it doesn’t matter what gender or race or any of that? Has she made that all clear to him? She feels tears prick her eyes but she doesn’t want to cry. She doesn’t want Shane to think for even a moment that she is disappointed in him. She grasps his hand as tightly as she can. “There is nothing, nothing you could do or say that would make me freak out, Shane. I love you. I love you all the time, no matter what. Do you understand that?”

He smiles at her, the loopy narcotics grin that he’s been wearing whenever he’s awake. “I love you too, Mama.”

Yuna’s heart cracks open. In that moment, she resolves to love Ilya Rozanov with the strength of a thousand suns if that’s what Shane wants. He will never have to doubt his mother again.

Chapter 12: Not an ending

Chapter Summary

(Almost) everything that comes after.

Chapter Notes

The concussion-related screen ban has been lifted just in time to watch the final Stanley Cup game. Shane’s arm is still in a sling but it’s due to come off soon enough. Both his and Ilya’s teams were knocked out of the playoffs. Ilya had been injured too, which Shane’s mom had clocked immediately when they watched that game. She didn’t ask Shane to confirm she was right but even hearing his mom say Ilya’s name made his chest swell.

He and Ilya have been talking. Shane had asked him to spend a couple of weeks with him this summer and Ilya was… considering it. Shane was trying not to push. He remembered Svetlana’s warning that he had to let Ilya come to him on his own time. Still. He wanted to have some uninterrupted time together. He missed him. Talking on the phone, FaceTiming, it wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel his heartbeat and smell the crook of his neck and… 

“What are you blushing about over there?” his mom asks, smiling.

Shane hesitates. He had given his parents the bare bones after Ilya came to the hospital: first that yes, he’s gay. He had been planning to tell them but it was kind of recent news to him and he wasn’t sure how to bring it up. They were absolutely fine with it, which he guesses he should have known. Still, it was a relief not to be keeping such a huge secret from them. His mom occasionally looked at him with something complicated in her eyes but whatever it was, she kept it to herself. 

He had also confessed about him and Ilya. Not all of it (obviously). He didn’t tell them how long they had been seeing each other or how intense his feelings were about the man. Again his parents didn’t ask too many questions, although they were both dying to know more. 

In a couple of days he’ll get his sling off and drive himself to the cottage. Hopefully he won’t be there alone all summer. He’s pretty sure Ilya will say yes; he just has to be patient. In the meantime, he’s watching the Admirals win the Cup and texting Ilya about how old Scott Hunter is. He tries to hide his giggles from his parents but he can feel his mom’s eyes on him. 

He happens to look up from his phone at the exact moment some guy leaves his seat in the stands, steps on the ice, and slides over to Hunter. The guy is hot, Shane can’t help but notice, but what is he doing there? Then Mystery Guy and Scott Hunter are making out. On the ice. With the Admirals celebrating and the Cup there and all the coaches and press and the commissioner for God’s sake–

Shane’s phone rings. He steps out of the room where his parents are still staring slack-jawed at the television and stabs the answer button. "Ilya-"

“I’m coming to the cottage.”

He doesn’t answer at first. He can’t, actually, he’s so thrown off by the whole thing. Hunter just publicly came out on the ice at the Stanley Cup Finals and now Ilya is coming to the cottage? Is that–he had no idea Hunter was gay, first of all. That would have been helpful information. He’s still wrapping his mind around that fact and whether knowing would have changed anything for him. 

“You are?” he says, dumbly. 

“...Yes. I am still invited?”

He laughs. “Yes, you’re invited, obviously. When can you–when?” He suddenly needs Ilya to be with him as soon as possible. He wants to talk about this Hunter thing for like, a solid twenty minutes, and then he wants to talk about what this could mean for him and Ilya. And also he wants Ilya to be with him in his favorite place in the world so he can tell him, finally, that he loves him. That he’s in love with him and has been for a really long time and he wishes he had the guts to tell him before. But he’s going to tell him now. As soon as they’re together.

***

On their last night together at the cottage–after three weeks of sex and swimming and running together every morning (much to Ilya's chagrin) and dinners with Shane’s parents (much to Ilya's delight) and Ilya asking Shane to be his boyfriend for real, officially, and saying I love you to each other approximately one thousand times–they are lying in bed, trying not to fall asleep and waste any of their precious last hours together. 

“Hey,” Shane whispers in the dark.

“Hmm.” Ilya is tracing circles on the back of Shane’s neck, idly wondering how he will survive being without his boyfriend(!) every day during an entire hockey season.

“What would have happened if I didn’t see you in that club that night?”

“You mean if Rose hadn’t made you into a little puppet and fixed things for you?”

“Shut up. Seriously.”

Ilya takes a breath. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I think… I would have found a way to get you back.”

“You would?”

“Probably. But I did not have to because you begged for my forgiveness.” Shane snorts. “Do not be embarrassed, sweetheart, I love when you beg.”

“You are the worst.”

“And you love me.”

Shane looks up so Ilya can see his face. “I love you more than I have ever loved anyone or anything. Even more than hockey.”

“Liar.”

“No. It’s true. I didn’t know it was possible to feel like this, Ilya. I could never–I would never give you up. Ever.”

Tears fill Ilya’s eyes. When will this man stop making him cry? Never, he hopes. “You will not have to,” he promises. He wraps his arms tighter around Shane and kisses the top of his head. 

“I wish we didn’t have to wait so long to announce the charity and all.” Ilya hums noncommittally. “It’s a good idea though, right? You still want to do it?”

Ilya sighs. “Yes, moy lyubov, we have talked about this. Many times. You are very smart, it is great plan.”

“Shut up.” He snuggles harder into his boyfriend(!), as if it’s possible to get closer to him. “I just want… I want you to know this is forever. For me. Like. Maybe we could even get married. One day. If you want.” Ilya is quiet. “Too much?”

He shakes his head slowly. “Not too much. Only… more than I thought I would get to have.”

They are both silent for a moment, listening to each other breathe. “Are you afraid that one day you’ll want to go back? To Moscow.”

Ilya hesitates, thinking. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I would like to see my mother’s grave again maybe but… she’s not really there.” Shane reaches up to touch the cross Ilya wears around his neck. Ilya smiles at Shane. “She is with me, I think. She must have brought you to me. She would not want me to leave you after she made us find each other.”

“She doesn’t have to worry then. This is forever.”

Ilya nods. “Forever.”

***

Later, they will have many fond arguments over when their anniversary is: the day they met in Regina or their first kiss or the first time they had sex or the first time they said I love you or when Ilya asked Shane to be his boyfriend. Ilya usually insists they should celebrate all of them, even though he has no idea about the dates. Secretly, Shane does. He has it written in code on the back of the paper calendar he still keeps even though almost everything is stored in his phone. Every year when he gets a new one, he flips to the back and copies over the list of dates and cities. He never tells Ilya, even after they're married; he thinks it's okay to keep one secret from his husband. For his part, Ilya never tells Shane that he knows about the calendar. He surreptitiously checks it every New Year's Day, just to be sure. As if either of them could ever forget the long, winding road that brought them here. Together. Forever. 

Chapter End Notes

This is kind of a corny ending but what can I say, I love love.

The last paragraph is an inside joke for my husband, who complains every year that there are "too many anniversaries." Secretly, I know he knows that's not true. He just likes to tease me because marriage is really just two pals who have sex with each other.

If you made it to the end, thank you so much for reading. Every comment brings me joy.