you feel it too, don't you?

★ ★ ★

The sun is bright, or at least Shane has to assume it is. He’s been spending most of his time with curtains drawn lately but the room is light enough to see in without the overhead light on so, yeah, it’s probably bright outside.

He’s hiding in his room, hoping his parents can’t hear him on the phone with Rose. He lies in bed, carefully holding his arm still while he takes a break from the sling.

“I’ll be so sneaky, I swear. No one will recognize me. I’ll have the makeup team give me a prosthetic nose.”

The smile on Shane’s lips has been there since the moment he answered Rose’s phone call. “I think my parents would probably recognize you when you get here and I don’t want to confuse them into thinking we’re getting back together.”

Rose groans, frustrated. “You hate accepting help. Even from your friends, huh?”

Shane rolls his eyes. He and Rose are still settling into what this friendship looks like for them. He wants to tell her about the All-Star game. Wants to tell her about the phone call from Russia. About Ilya visiting him at the hospital.

The combination of not knowing how to get the words out and the ever present paranoia of his mom’s ear potentially being against the door stops him. He knows she wouldn’t, but she could be walking by!

“How are you even free to visit? I thought you had shoots all season.” Shane says it without thinking. Yeah, the season is still happening. It’s just that he’s not been part of it. He shakes it off, tries not to focus on it.

“They rewrote the script and cut out a whole sequence with my character. Honestly, I’m just glad they did it now and not midway through shooting. So I’ve got a free week!”

“Then relax! I don’t need you to babysit me.”

“Shane,” Rose’s voice gets more stern. “You cannot seriously be okay right now, alone with your parents, and all your friends still finishing the season. I’m free. I want to help you. Please let me.”

There’s a reason Shane and Rose get along so well. She speaks clearly. She doesn’t try to imply anything, or sugarcoat anything. She just says it in a way that Shane can’t misinterpret or hide behind, as much as he’d like to right now. Because it’s true. He’s stir crazy in a way that’s impossible to express. He’s never sat still this long. The only thing keeping him dedicated to this regimen is that he’s clinging to the hope that he’ll heal well and this won’t have any significant lasting side effects.

Shane budges an inch. “What days are you free?”

Rose squeaks with excitement. “Next week, May 1st through the 5th.”

Shane’s heart stops in his chest.

He’s typically aware of the MLH schedule, or can at least remember it well enough to have an idea of which games are happening.

But he knows exactly who is playing on May 3rd, who they’re playing against, and where. Because Boston is playing at Ottawa that night at 6pm.

He’s quiet for too long.

Rose fills it, “What, you trying to figure out how to say no? You busy next week staring at the ceiling again?”

Shane sighs. He shouldn’t have told her about that. It’s just that some of the popcorn-ceiling looked kind of like the lines of a hockey rink.

“You think we could convince my parents to let you kidnap me and drive me to the city for a week?”

That shocks Rose. “Okay, what are you planning? First you tell me I can’t come at all and now you’re planning a heist?”

“Ottawa’s playing on the 3rd.” Shane wonders if that’s enough of an answer.

Rose scoffs a laugh. “I know I’m not completely caught up on your concussion protocol stuff but I’m pretty sure being in a hockey arena where most non-concussed people wear ear protection breaks some rules.”

Shane squeezes his eyes shut. “Um, I don’t have to go to the game. It’s just, um…” It’s impossible to explain. Impossible to explain how desperate he is to even get a glimpse of Ilya.

He and Ilya talked about how they could pull off seeing each other while he’s here and they couldn’t think of a single thing that made sense. There was no way his parents would let him book a car service to take him hours from their cottage into Ottawa. They would know there was a game and think he was sneaking out to watch it. And it was out of the question for Ilya to drive to his parents’ place.

Hell, they might not even let him go with Rose if they think he’d try and go to the rink.

Shane tries to remind himself he’s an adult, even if he’s spent the last few weeks babied by his parents and mostly bedridden. He can make his own decisions even if his parents disapprove.

Because she’s pretty much always been able to read his mind, Rose’s voice softens. “Shane, what’s going on? What aren’t you telling me? What’s so important about being in Ottawa on the 3rd?”

Ilya.

The answer is simple. He just doesn’t know how to admit it.

He chooses cowardice. “If you help me figure this out, I’ll tell you. Fuck, I mean, if you help me figure this out I might even be able to show you.”

He can barely picture Ilya and Rose in the same room.

His mind supplies him with images of them both under strobing club lights.

He shakes it off. 

Rose latches onto the important piece of that answer, “So you’re saying yes? I can help you?”

Shane lets out a long breath. “Yeah, fine. You can come visit me.”

Rose celebrates. “Oh, we’re going to have the quietest, most dimly lit parties.”

Shane can’t help laughing, wincing a bit as it irritates his headache. “I’ll see you next week. I have no idea what I’m gonna say to my parents.”

“Not my problem! Good luck! See you soon! Love you!”

“Yeah, love you too.” Shane hangs up, extremely conscious of his smile because it’s a real smile. He feels it tugged across his lips and warming his heart. Things are good with Rose.

And things are maybe, finally, starting to be good with Ilya.

Jane: You haven’t made plans for when you’re in Ottawa yet, have you?

Lily: you are not supposed to be texting

Lily: of course i haven’t made plans

Jane: I might have a way to get to the city after all but you have to promise you won’t be mad

Lily: how could i be mad about seeing you?

Shane’s heart does about 5,000 backflips.

This is extremely new.

The flirting. The real, unironic, genuine flirting.

God, he might throw up.

Jane: Rose is gonna pick me up and drive us to ottawa for the week

Lily: …

Lily: i’m not mad

Jane: Real convincing

Lily: you are not supposed to be texting! i’ll call you later

Shane huffs a laugh and locks his phone, pressing it to his chest.

He can’t even begin to parse the swell of emotions in his chest.

They’re really doing this. Him and Ilya. They’re really… something. Maybe they’re not exclusive yet but Shane knows he is. He’s just not sure if Ilya is.

Still, it feels too good to be true. To know that they don’t have to keep trying to disguise the feelings they have for each other anymore.

Maybe if he sees Ilya next week he can start to actually believe it.

It feels crazy to Shane to think that the closest thing to a label he has for where they’re at right now is mutual crushes. It makes it feel like they’re 18 again, eyes locking during the handshake line at the Prospect Cup.

It hurts that the last time he saw Ilya, he was high out of his mind. He wishes he had a firmer memory of what Ilya described to him over the phone a couple days ago.

“You were so, hm, I don’t know. Gentle. Happy, mm. Yes. You were happy. To see me, obviously. Always everyone is happy to see me. You especially. You begged so prettily for me to stand close. I held your hand and, um… put my hand on your face. Brushed my thumb across your freckles. You’re so beautiful, you know?”

And then Ilya had violently changed the topic away from the question Shane had asked that day. The question Ilya has been avoiding.

They’ve always been walking a line with whatever this has been between them but this year that line has shifted drastically.

They’ve opened Pandora's box of feelings and Ilya’s been unexpectedly affectionate ever since, doubly so after the hospital, but only in private. He’s still extremely skittish about doing anything risky or public.

So saying that he has a plan to get out of his parents’ house with Rose Landry to see Ilya hours away during a game night in Ottawa… Ilya probably perceives that as a risk.

It’s not that Shane doesn’t understand the risks.

He’s just as motivated to make sure they don’t get caught, that nothing happens to Ilya or to their careers.

It’s just that…

He tries to remember what he can about the way Ilya had looked at him in the hospital room.

He remembers thinking Ilya looked sad, looked scared.

But he remembers, for a brief few moments, when Ilya softened.

When he looked at Shane like he was precious.

And then the fucking nurse walked in.

Shane wants to be back there, back in that moment. He wants to remember it more clearly. Not blurred through the pain meds.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes up to his phone vibrating on his chest.

Shane squints at his screen, he knows what he hopes the screen says but it’s way too bright now that the sun’s gone down.

He adjusts the brightness, struggling with one hand, and finally sees it: Lily.

He answers desperately, but speaks in a whisper. “Ilya.” He’ll never get tired of saying it.

“Shane.”

Shane can hear the smile in Ilya’s voice. I missed you. He doesn’t say it but he wants to.

They end up both just quietly breathing in the silence of the open phone call.

This is only the second time they’ve been on the phone since the hospital. And the second time they’ve called for something that wasn’t helping Ilya through his complicated grieving process in Russia.

Ilya’s stubbornness gets the better of him. “Why would this make me mad?”

Shane pivots. “You just got out of practice? Are you driving?”

“Yes, I’m driving home from practice. Why would I be mad?”

“Did you tell Jeffers what I told you about his chip shot?”

Ilya sighs, “Yes, I very sneakily gave my team your coaching instructions so we can beat your team because you are obsessed with making sure everyone is playing their best. Stop avoiding the question. And stop watching highlights in bed or I will find a way to tell your mom to take your phone at night.”

Shane’s lips curl up at the corner. “I can think of a few reasons why you’d never want me to be without my phone at night.”

“The same phone you use to call Rose Landry?”

Shane jumps on it, “I knew you were mad.”

“I’m not mad!”

“She’s just a friend. I’m gay, Ilya.”

Ilya lets out a heavy sigh and his voice is thick with overexaggerated anger. “Oh my god, Shane. Okay, I get it. You are friends with Rose Landry. Your beautiful, movie star, ex-girlfriend. And she is going to go say hi to your parents and drive you into the city. Why would I be mad about that?”

Shane smiles up at his ceiling and tries to stifle down his affection.

It’s not fair.

It’s not fair that after all this time, after all the people he’s met, that the person who wedged himself into Shane’s heart and past all his defenses is Ilya fucking Rozanov. “You think one day you’ll be able to just call her Rose without listing her entire resume?”

Ilya scoffs, “Oh, so being your girlfriend was a job for her?”

“Ilya.” Shane scolds him but there’s barely any heat behind it. He can tell that Ilya means it, that he’s really not mad. He’s just trying to make Shane laugh. He maybe has some feelings about Shane’s ex being around but anger isn’t one of them. “The only reason I even agreed to let her come visit me out here is because I realized she was available while you’re gonna be here too.” He pauses then rushes to add, “But don’t you dare tell her that!”

Ilya’s laughing a little too loudly and Shane pulls the phone away from his ear for a moment. “I will be telling her this.”

“Please don’t.”

Ilya pretends to think about it, humming softly. “Yes, definitely telling her.”

Shane retorts, “You really think I’m gonna let you meet her? You’d probably try to break her nose and keep her from being able to go back to set.”

“Uh, no.” Ilya responds feistily. “I would never punch someone who didn’t start it. If she starts it, maybe. But then that is her fault and she should know better if she’s a hockey fan who goes to all your games.”

“She went to one game.”

“It was everywhere for three weeks. It was like it was six games.”

Shane can’t help laughing about it. “I do think some of the pictures circulated longer than the actual relationship lasted.”

Ilya doesn’t say, I still see them on Twitter sometimes.

A knock on the door makes Shane jump out of his skin.

Yuna calls out, “Shane? Honey, dinner’s ready.”

The call goes quiet again.

Shane wonders if Ilya heard that.

He’s been trying to figure out lately how to talk to Ilya about… parents. He knows things with his father were complicated at best, and that Ilya will mention Shane’s parents casually at times so it’s not off limits but… it’s fragile.

“She calls you honey?” Ilya’s voice is oddly neutral.

“Uh, yeah.”

There’s a beat of silence before Ilya says, “Will take that off list of things to call you in bed.”

Shane lets out a harsh breath. “You’re such an asshole.”

Ilya laughs smugly. “Go eat. I will be here being not mad about Rose Landry flying to Canada for you.”

“Bye, Ilya.”

“Bye, Shane.”

★ ★ ★

Completely unsurprisingly, Shane’s spent the last week trying to talk his mom down from assuming he and Rose are getting back together.

At one point she even said, “You’re not supposed to do any strenuous activities with that collarbone so even if you and Rose aren’t getting back together but you plan to spend the night together…” 

After which Shane had said, “Jesus, Mom! We’re not having sex!”

And she’d held up her hands defensively.

Rose knocks on the door and Shane rushes to open it but Yuna beats him.

The door opens to Rose in sweats and a ratty t-shirt–which even Shane can tell is doing too much–with a bouquet of flowers and a very nice bottle of wine.

“You must be Yuna!” Rose exclaims, handing Yuna the gifts.

She meets Shane’s eye over her shoulder and Shane lets his eyes drift over her outfit as he shakes his head disbelievingly.

Rose stifles a laugh. “It’s sooo nice to meet you. I’ve heard only incredible things.”

Yuna looks over her shoulder at Shane who walks up to join them. “Shane speaks highly of you too. You know, you’re the only girl he’s been public wi–”

“Mom.” Shane shoots a sharp glance at her.

“What, it’s true!” Yuna has a mischievous grin on her lips.

Shane can’t fault her too much for it. He hasn’t exactly given her tons of chances to rib him about his relationships. He can understand why she’s taking advantage of the chance she has.

“Hey, Rose,” his voice goes softer and he tries not to overthink if it sounds too affectionate.

Rose looks at his sling and frowns. “Are you huggable or is that off limits?”

Shane rolls his eyes and holds out his good arm.

She very intentionally gives him an awkward side hug.

Shane’s lips twitch with the urge to burst out laughing.

He knew she was an actor but this is her worst performance yet.

They insist that she stay for lunch and it’s both the most wonderful and the most awkward thing Shane’s ever experienced.

They sit around the table and Yuna and David ask Rose what feels like hundreds of questions. Some about her job, some about fame or publicity, and some about Shane.

Which Shane knew was inevitable.

Rose smiles at Shane. “Shane’s one of the best people I’ve ever met and I’m so lucky to call him my best friend.”

Shane rolls his eyes. “There’s no way I’m your best friend.”

“We’ve talked about this! Jolie is a great friend, but she doesn’t get me like you do! You’ve out seated her and even she agrees!”

“We’ll, you’re not my best friend.” Shane’s lips quirk up.

“Shane!” David exclaims, shocked.

Rose rolls her eyes, unfazed by Shane’s sass. “I don’t see Hayden Pike at this dinner table.”

“He’s in Seattle!” Shane whines. Where I should be, he doesn’t say.

Rose doesn’t flinch at the wave of sadness that pulses through the room. “That’s no excuse. I’m filming a movie right now and I’m here.”

Shane shakes his head fondly. “‘cause you’re my best friend.”

Rose pumps her fist.

David looks at Yuna who is already looking back at him.

They have no idea what to make of this.

Rose tries to explain, “Shane is like a brother to me.”

Shane wrinkles his nose.

Rose has to agree. “Yeah, that’s too much. Sorry.”

David eyes his son and can see the tension in his shoulders.

There’s something about this that Shane’s uncomfortable about and it’s so clear how important it is that he and Yuna believe them.

Shane has never been good at hiding his emotions and it’s clear as day that he sees Rose as a friend and he wants his parents to just believe what he’s telling them.

David tries his best to show Shane that he does. “If you’re a friend of Shane’s, then you better be ready to talk hockey because the doctors cleared him to watch TV again and he’s been watching replays of the last few weeks of games night and day.”

Rose is painfully aware of that already. “You think I haven’t already heard about Kardirov’s breakaway wrap around top shelf goal five times?”

Yuna bursts out laughing as it finally hits her that this truly is platonic and Shane has been infodumping to one of the world’s most famous actresses about hockey.

Shane mutters, “It wasn’t top shelf, it was five-hole.”

Rose levels a knowing glare at David and Yuna.

Yuna ruffles her son’s hair. “And we wouldn’t have you any other way, sweetie.”

Shane ducks his head, embarrassed by the affection. “We should probably head out.”

Yuna stands up immediately. “Don’t let him carry his bag! He’s stubborn but do not listen to him. He’s not supposed to carry anything over 15 pounds and frankly, I think even that is too much.”

“Mom,” Shane groans, “I’m not gonna hurt myself.”

Rose interjects to give Yuna her number and demands that Yuna send all the limits and instructions from the doctors as Shane watches on in betrayal.

Rose glances at him. “You’d lie. We both know you’d lie.”

“I wouldn't lie!” Shane’s voice turns into a childish whine.

David laughs knowingly. “You’d lie, kid. The moment you see a set of stairs you’d try to take the bag back from her.”

Shane wants to deny it but the moment he imagines the situation he realizes it’s true.

★ ★ ★

Shane feels himself relax the moment they’re out of sight of the driveway. He reclines his chair and sighs, nose wrinkling at the too intense smell of the brand new rental car. “The shirt with holes in it was too much and you know it.”

Rose laughs freely. “But it was funny and it made you laugh.”

Shane’s lips twitch. “Maybe.”

“So you’re still not telling me what this secret mission in Ottawa is?”

Shane stares up at the ceiling of the car. A fresh ceiling. It’s been weeks and this is a thrilling development for him. Not enough texture to hallucinate a hockey rink in though. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

Rose shoots him a suspicious glare but focuses on driving. “Now, what’s that supposed to mean? If I’m helping carry your bags and sneak you around hockey fans in Ottawa, you’re gonna have to give me some information about what we’re doing.”

He wishes he and Ilya talked about it more, but Ilya’s been on the road and the team bus is set to arrive in Ottawa tomorrow afternoon after driving in from Toronto, who they narrowly beat 2-1 in overtime. The past week Ilya’s either been at games, sleeping, or in hotel rooms with teammates that wouldn’t take a hint to leave.

So they’ve had to make due with texting. The extent of the plan they’ve decided on includes: it’s probably okay to tell Rose, and Ilya is getting a ride share straight to them the moment he steps off the bus so they have as much time as possible before the 8pm curfew.

Ilya thinks it would be funny if Shane said nothing to Rose until he knocks on the door.

They definitely did not decide on what word to use to explain to Rose why they’re jumping through so many hoops to see each other.

“You said the place we’re staying at is private?”

Rose snorts, “Yes, so if you’re planning a murder, I think we can get away with it. It’s a house, so no shared walls.”

Shane nods but it’s like his lips are glued shut, like his tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth.

There’s a deep concern in Rose’s voice when she says, “You’re kind of scaring me. Is something wrong?”

“No.” He rushes to say, “Fuck, sorry.” Shake kicks himself. “I didn’t mean to worry you. It’s not… it’s not anything…”

And unfortunately Rose can pretty much read his mind. “Is this about a boy?”

The ceiling gets blurry all of a sudden.

Shane’s silence answers for him.

Rose nudges again, “On the Ottawa team maybe?”

Shane laughs. “No.” He stops himself from saying, not Ottawa, but it’s already damning enough.

Rose says it like the word might detonate something. “Boston?”

Again, Shane says nothing.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Rose nods. “Okay, I can see why you’re freaking out.”

“I’m not–”

“You are.”

The tangle of emotions float in the air between them for a moment as Rose navigates some weird GPS instructions.

Once they settle again Rose has had enough time to process that and she says, “So it’s serious.”

It feels like he has to unhinge his jaw to get the words out, “I think it could be.”

Rose knows it wouldn’t help to be too delicate right now. “Is it who you were thinking about when I asked… if it was better?”

Hot tears fall down the sides of Shane’s face. “Yeah.”

He feels himself start to dissociate.

He doesn't know how to deal with this. Doesn’t know how to feel about someone being so close to the truth because what even is the truth?

He’s sleeping with Ilya Rozanov and they have feelings for each other but they’re not together because Ilya might be deported if the wrong person finds out and it would destroy their careers so instead they just desperately scrape together any spare seconds they can to be together in secret?

How does he explain all of that to her?

“This guy you’re seeing,” Rose starts to ask another question and Shane braces himself for it to be the one that breaks him, “is he hotter than me?”

The laugh bursts out of Shane so unexpectedly loud that it hurts his collarbone and he has to take some short, fast breaths to fight through the sharp pain of it.

Rose laughs wildly and turns up the music. “Let’s talk more when we get to the house, okay?”

“Thank you,” Shane says and he knows she knows what he means.

This is difficult to talk about and he needs a break so he doesn’t burst into tears, but he wants to tell her.

She knows now how to give him the space he needs.

Shane digs out his phone with his good arm.

Jane: Rose asked me if the guy I’m seeing is hotter than her

Lily: and you said yes

Jane: I haven’t answered her yet

Lily: the answer is yes

Jane: We’re in the car. She said she rented a whole private house, no shared walls

Lily: shane tell her yes i am hotter than her

Jane: Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow!

Lily: i’m looking forward to seeing you too

Lily: tell her yes

Lily: shane

With a smirk, Shane pockets his phone.

★ ★ ★

Before they take their bags out of the car, Rose starts by guiding Shane inside and shoving him (gently) onto the couch. She turns the TV to the broadcast channel playing highlights before the Montreal game.

It’s irritating that it works so well. Shane focuses on the TV while Rose carries in their bags and Shane only feels lightly guilty about it.

There are a couple texts on his phone that he hasn’t looked at in a minute.

Yuna: You get there safely?

–

Hayden: Game time in 10! Wish me luck, cap! We’re gonna win this cup for you!

–

Lily: do you think rose landry will enjoy listening to us having sex?

Shane sighs heavily.

He responds to his mom first.

Then sends the 100 emoji to Hayden while shoving all his emotions down his throat. 

Jane: I’m still not sold on you actually meeting her

Rose settles on the couch beside him, but not close enough to see his phone. She nods her head at it. “That him?”

Shane swallows, but nods shallowly. He feels defensive suddenly. “It’s not– We’re not, um. I mean, it’s just… We’re not, like, together.”

A few different emotions flicker across Rose’s face as he talks, namely pity, but she disguises it. “You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to share, Shane. I’m not gonna pry and I’m sorry if I made you think I would.”

Lily: you’re watching the game?

Jane: Yeah, of course

Lily: i have it on in the hotel room. i’ll watch with you

Again, Shane’s heart implodes in his chest.

He feels like it shouldn’t be surprising to learn that Ilya is the type to show affection like this.

Sure, he’s spent nearly ten years now trying to convince himself that they hate each other and the sex was only happening because it was convenient, but Ilya’s been affectionate since day one. It’s just that it used to only be physical affection, gentle touches.

Being affectionate with his words and actions is new.

And Shane knows it’s not actually out of character for him. Still, it’s shocking to see.

Jane: Do you always flirt by offering to watch hockey games for people’s teams they’re too injured to play with?

Lily: works every time ;)

Shane laughs at his phone and starts to look up at the TV to check how close they are to game start when he notices Rose in his peripheral vision, staring at him.

She has a soft smile on her lips as she gives him a knowing look.

“What?” Shane knows ‘what’ though, but he has to pretend it’s not obvious.

Rose shakes her head. “Nothing. Ignore me.”

★ ★ ★

Rose orders food for them and they dig in during the first intermission, eating on the couch so they don’t miss the start of the second period. The other great thing about spending time with Rose is they have practically the same diet and Shane doesn’t have to feel weird trying to advocate for himself and what he’d prefer to eat.

“Would it be easier if I wasn’t here when he gets here?” Rose asks casually.

Shane’s head snaps up to look at her as they eat. “What?”

Rose shrugs. “I told you, you don’t need to tell me anything you don’t want to. And if you’re not ready to tell me who it is, I mean, if he isn’t ready to tell me either, then I can go out and give you some alone time.”

It’s a complicated offer because Shane feels as though he should accept it, but he also knows Rose isn’t an idiot. “You already know, don’t you?”

Rose averts her eyes. “You haven’t said.”

“Rose.” Shane levels a glare at her. “You know.”

She pushes some food around her plate with a fork for a moment before nodding slowly. “It’s not rocket science to figure out which of the Raiders seemed most concerned when you went down during that last game. And I understand why it’s complicated if you’re having to worry about, um, Russia.”

It’s like time stops.

Shane doesn’t know how to feel about someone knowing.

In the weighted silence, Shane’s phone buzzes where he’d left it on the coffee table and the notification lights up the screen.

Lily: down 1 to fucking seattle in the first period. they’re fucked without you

Shane doesn’t rush to hide his screen and Rose’s eyes glance down at it.

She looks back at Shane. “So you’re just hooking up?”

Shane hates this.

He hates that Rose is trying to be delicate with him, trying to take him at his word even though it’s so obvious that he’s lying to her, to himself.

Yes, he could say, we’re just hooking up and that’s why I needed you to fly to Canada and drive me to Ottawa to see him.

So Shane gives her the only true answer he has right now, “I don’t know.”

Rose scoots closer to him and pulls him into her arms.

Shane goes willingly, letting his eyes fall closed.

He has no idea what the fuck he’s doing.

He has no idea why he’s going through all of this when Ilya won’t even agree to spend time with him this Summer.

But the answer is there, buried beneath his ribs, echoing like a drum.

He’s just not ready to look too closely at it yet.

★ ★ ★

Shane and Rose reach a compromise in the morning.

He wants to greet Ilya alone and give them some space to just see each other again after the hospital, but he does want Rose to meet him too. So she agrees to hide in her room until Shane texts her to come down.

Which means Shane is sitting on the edge of the couch in the living room, one arm in his sling and the other holding his phone in a death grip as Ilya tells him he’s almost there.

Almost before Ilya knocks, Shane is tugging the door open.

They stare at each other.

This is nothing like the hotel rooms.

It hits Shane like a freight truck that this isn’t just the first time they’re seeing each other since the hospital, but it’s also the first time they have time to actually talk without the threat of being overheard since Ilya’s dad died.

Everything about this is brand new.

Especially the way Ilya’s eyes immediately catalog the faded bruises on Shane’s nose and the sling.

“I’m okay,” Shane rushes to say.

Ilya drags his eyes up from Shane’s arm back to his eyes. There’s a smirk on his lips but it’s not teasing the way Shane’s used to. It’s fond. “So I can come in before someone recognizes me standing on a random doorstep in Ottawa?”

Shane takes a step back and lets Ilya in. “Yeah, you can… sorry.”

Ilya steps inside as Shane closes the door. “Breathe, Shane.” His hand finds Shane’s jaw.

Shane’s been struggling to not have use of both his arms for weeks but it’s never been so difficult as it is right now. His good arm reaches out to land on Ilya’s hip, but it’s not as firm as he wants it to be without both hands so he readjusts to grab the back of Ilya’s neck. “Ilya…” He tries to tug him in hard.

Ilya resists. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he whispers.

Shane whines. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Ilya holds Shane delicately and presses their lips together.

It’s killing Shane. He wants nothing more than to press together. He wants Ilya to shove him against the wall.

He knows they should not do that but god, he wants it.

The more they kiss, the more Shane keeps trying to deepen it as if Ilya can’t feel him flinching in pain when he moves the wrong way.

Ilya curses, pulling away from him. “You are impossible.” He drags Shane to the couch and guides him to lie down before straddling him. “Good? You will stop pretending you are okay to slam me against the wall now?” Ilya’s hand splays gingerly over Shane’s collarbone.

Shane drops his head back onto the couch cushion and sighs. “Fine. Yeah.”

It’s palpable the way they’re both avoiding saying the words, I missed you.

“You owe me,” is what Shane ends up saying instead.

Ilya snorts a laugh. “Really? What do I owe you?”

“We had plans,” Shane insists, pushing his hips up into Ilya’s. “After the game.”

Ilya tsks, “I do not know what I can do if you keep flinching with that sling.”

Shane tugs Ilya back down to kiss him again and they stay like that for a bit, Ilya holding himself off of Shane’s chest to protect his collarbone.

Shane has complaints about that, obviously. “You’re being too gentle.”

Ilya’s eyebrows shoot up. “Shane, your bones are broken.”

“It was a fracture!”

Ilya just looks at him again.

Shane sighs. “This is torture.”

Ilya laughs, peppering kisses down Shane’s neck. “I can take care of you but you have to be still or I will stop.”

Shane’s eyes flick to the stairs. “We’re not having sex on the couch.”

Ilya follows his gaze. “Oh. She’s here, yes?”

Shane nods.

Ilya goes back to kissing his neck. “Good, we will make the couch smell like sex and she has to see cum stains all week.”

Shane can’t help laughing, “Ilya, we’re not having sex on the couch.”

Ilya pulls back and they stare at each other.

Neither of them knows what to do here.

All their normal scripts tell them to push the emotion away, to strip off all their clothes and find a bedroom.

But Shane’s injured and even if that weren’t the case, things are different now in a way neither of them knows how to adjust to.

Ilya’s being so gentle with him, so caring about the injury and Shane doesn’t know how to fit how he feels about that into his chest.

“Maybe, um,” Shane tries, clearing his throat, “Maybe I should text her to come meet you? And then we can, um, go to my room?”

Ilya’s eyes close off. “Okay.”

Shane swallows. He should be used to this, the way Ilya will pull away when things get too real. He’s done the same thing. They should be used to this.

Ilya climbs off his lap.

Shane starts to sit up and struggles.

Ilya springs into action, scooping an arm under him to help him sit up.

On instinct, Ilya’s lips find Shane’s neck and he mumbles, “This should not have happened to you. You should be on the ice.”

Shane doesn’t know what to say to that. “We all get our bell rung eventually.”

Ilya laughs softly. “Yes, you said the same thing to me in the hospital.”

“Did I?”

Ilya sits beside him, letting Shane lean back into his chest. “So funny that you don’t remember. Party boy Hollander, high at the hospital.”

“Shut up, they were pain meds.”

Ilya hums, nuzzling his nose behind Shane’s ear. “Should have brought you some. Make you all soft and sweet again. You’ve never been so nice to me.”

Shane scoffs. “I’m nice.”

“Not like you were in the hospital. Big smile, like we are besties.”

Shane shakes his head, pressing back into Ilya.

It’s easier like this, now that they can’t see each other’s faces.

Shane lets his eyes close as Ilya’s fingers brush through his hair.

Ilya holds him and they sit together in silence, trying to figure out what the hell they’re doing.

When Ilya can’t take it anymore, he jokes the atmosphere away. “You will introduce me to your ex-girlfriend now?”

Shane sighs and digs his phone out of his pocket.

He lets Ilya read over his shoulder.

Shane: Ready to meet the biggest asshole in the league?

Ilya’s smirk is ferocious. He bites Shane’s earlobe. “This is how you talk about me?”

Shane hesitates, wanting to be honest. “No, not really. Only when people know I’m joking.”

Ilya doesn’t have a response to that.

Rose: and we agreed he’s NOT going to be mad at me?

Ilya steals Shane’s phone, but has his arms wrapped around Shane with his chin on Shane’s good shoulder.

Shane: i did not agree to anything rose landry

Rose thumbs down the message.

Shane pockets his phone.

They can hear the door open upstairs.

Ilya feels Shane’s body go tense. He starts to pull away, but Shane holds him in place for a second and then thinks better of it and lets go, so they’re sitting side by side when Rose comes into view at the top of the stairs.

Shane can tell immediately that Rose is in character and not quite relaxed yet, but she smiles widely as she walks down the stairs and says, “So you’re the one who turned my boyfriend gay.”

Shane chokes on a laugh, wincing.

Ilya glances at Shane with a smirk, “I see, so your type is funny blondes.”

Rose perks up. “You think I’m funny, then.”

Ilya shoots back, “And also blonde.”

Rose rolls her eyes as she joins them in the living room and sits in the love seat across from them. “You are one of the most obnoxious forwards when you play against my teams, but if I’m being objective about it, you’re an incredible player to watch.”

Ilya laughs, eyes flicking to Shane again. “He said something similar when we met.”

Shane’s brow furrows. “Did I?”

Ilya nods, a little embarrassed that he remembers this better than Shane does. “You said I am an awesome player to watch. I had to look up awesome.”

Shane stares at Ilya, flabbergasted. “This was in Regina?” He doesn’t say the year, doesn’t hint to Rose how long ago this was.

Ilya shrugs.

Shane’s lips curl into a smile.

All the initial teasing and small talk options run out and then they’re forced to acknowledge what an unusual trio of people they are to be in a rented house together in Ottawa.

This would perhaps be a little more normal if Shane was introducing Rose to his boyfriend but that’s not…

Rose glances at the time on her phone. “Um, I was going to go to a boutique I heard about around here. Probably for a couple hours.”

Shane nods, unsure how to navigate anything about this.

Rose gets up from the couch and tugs on her shoes and grabs the keys to the rental car. “Don’t over think it, Shane. Have fun!”

Shane winces as she lets herself out.

Ilya wheezes. “Have fun,” he teases, absolutely fueled by this. “Your ex-girlfriend Rose Landry just told you to have fun fucking me.”

Shane groans as Ilya immediately resumes kissing his neck. “Can we just go to the bedroom?”

Ilya stands, a smirk probably never leaving his face ever again as he holds out his hands to help Shane up. “You need help undressing?”

Shane glares at him, but the truth of it is that yes, he does. “And what if I do?”

Ilya shrugs. “Then I will do it for you.”

Shane leads them up the stairs and tries to calm the flush he’s sure is on his cheeks.

When they get to the bedroom, Shane nods his head at Ilya. “You first.”

Ilya nods slowly and complies, peeling his shirt off and watching the way Shane watches him.

This, at least, feels like the last time they had sex before Shane's last game.

Ilya kicks off his shoes and socks and takes off his pants and underwear and then just lets Shane look at him.

This isn’t technically new, but Shane looks like he’s trying to memorize him. His eyes catalog new bruises on Ilya’s torso from this week’s games.

It’s only been three weeks since they last fucked, but with the way everything went it may as well have been three years.

Energy buzzes in their air between them as Ilya steps in closer, hands hovering over Shane’s sling. “How does it…”

Shane lifts his arm and quietly slips the strap over his head and drops the sling on the dresser.

As soon as it’s off, Ilya is close to him, applying a light pressure to keep Shane’s arm in place. His brow is furrowed with focus and concern.

“I only have to wear it for two more weeks,” Shane tries to play it cool.

Ilya tsks, “You’ve been injured for three.”

“It’s fine, Ilya, I–”

Ilya interrupts him, “No, stop. I’m not doing anything to make it worse. You have to tell me the truth. How do we do this so it’s safe?”

Shane’s teeth clamp shut.

Honesty.

He nods once, hesitantly. And then again as he accepts that Ilya’s right. “Um. What you’ve been doing is… good. Going slow. I probably can’t, um, we probably can’t fuck.”

“Yes,” Ilya laughs softly. “I thought so.”

Shane looks at Ilya’s face. “Really? Before you agreed to meet me here?”

Ilya shrugs.

Shane smirks. “Would you have come to see me even if we couldn’t hook up at all?”

Ilya starts undoing the buttons on Shane’s shirt. “We don’t have time to talk, Hollander. I have curfew.”

They have 5 full hours.

Shane shakes his head, smile on his lips, as Ilya carefully undresses him. 

Then his hands freeze on the last button. “You can’t do this yourself?”

Shane blinks. “The shirt? No, not really.”

Ilya looks into Shane’s eyes.

Shane doesn’t know what that look means. “What?”

“You are spending a week with Rose Landry and you can’t put on your own shirts?”

Shane sighs. “It’s just the shirts. I have sweats and stuff that I can manage alone.”

Ilya’s still frowning at him. “Rose Landry will be taking off your shirt all week?”

“Not today,” Shane insists, pressing his lips to Ilya’s. “You’re doing it today.”

Ilya frowns as he slips the shirt off of Shane’s shoulders and carefully guides it off of Shane’s bad arm. “Maybe I stay all week.”

Shane rolls his eyes. “You play Montreal on Thursday.”

Ilya snorts. “They don’t need me to beat Montreal without you.”

Shane can’t help smirking.

Ilya’s been the only one to figure out how to talk about hockey to Shane in a way that doesn’t break his heart.

Once Ilya has them both undressed, he helps Shane settle on the bed, propped up on some pillows.

Shane stares at him.

Ilya tries to act like everything is normal. “What?”

Shane shakes his head. “You're good at this.”

“Sex? Yes, I know.”

“Taking care of me.”

Ilya’s words get trapped in his throat. He averts his eyes. “I think you will be okay if I suck your dick, yes?”

Shane laughs, nodding. “Yeah, I think I’ll be okay.”

Half way through, while Shane is moaning Ilya’s name, Ilya pulls off to glare at him, muttering in Russian as he gets off the bed and grabs the sling from the dresser.

Shane whines. “Why’d you stop?”

Ilya pushes the sling over Shane’s head and helps guide his arm back in. “You have to stop reaching for me. I can tell when you are whimpering because pleasure and when it’s pain.”

Shane rolls his eyes and is about to talk back when Ilya’s mouth is on him again and he forgets what he wanted to say.

Only because he begs for it after does Ilya help Shane off the bed to kneel so he can return the favor for Ilya.

After cleaning off with a wet towel, Ilya lies beside Shane looking affectionately annoyed by him. “You know, I thought we would use restraints in bed one day but I did not picture it like this.”

Shane’s smile lights up his face as he looks into Ilya’s eyes.

Ilya runs his thumb over Shane’s freckles like he did in the hospital and lets himself feel the relief all over again, that Shane is okay. He’s alive. He’s here.

They cuddle together, skin to skin, and because they’re both cowards they don’t talk about this, they don’t talk about how much trouble they both went through to see each other.

They talk about hockey and who’s been eliminated from playoffs and who has a chance at the cup.

Ilya tells Shane that his friend has her eyes on the Admirals.

Shane tells Ilya his mom said the same thing.

They talk a bit longer and then Ilya can’t resist running his hands over Shane’s body and his lips follow shortly after.

Shane leans back and lets Ilya do whatever he wants, relishing in the feeling of Ilya’s hands and lips on him.

They go for a second round, this time with Ilya straddling him and gripping both of them together, careful not to jostle Shane too much.

Shane’s begging for him to go faster, harder, but Ilya keeps it slow.

“You are a danger to yourself, so desperate for me.” Ilya says after as they stand together in the shower.

“I wasn’t that bad,” Shane insists even though he knows it’s not true.

Ilya snorts. “You’ve been doing all of this one handed?”

Shane nods, reaching for shampoo but Ilya knocks his hand away and does it for him.

Without talking about it, Shane lets him and that feeling in his chest he was trying not to look at too closely becomes all he can think about.

★ ★ ★

They hear the door open downstairs while they’re in bed making out and Rose screams, “I CALLED YOU THREE TIMES SO YOU BETTER NOT BE FUCKING IN THE KITCHEN OR SOMETHING.”

Shane laughs as he breaks away from kissing Ilya.

Ilya smirks at him, holding Shane’s jaw in his hand.

Shane breathes in and holds it awkwardly in a way that Ilya has come to learn means he wants to say something but is scared of what Ilya will think.

He waits and lets Shane get the words out.

Shane licks his lips, “Is it, um, is it weird if you stay for dinner?”

Ilya’s lips curl up. “Dinner with you and your ex-girlfriend Rose Landry?”

Shane lets out a harsh sigh. “You don’t have to stay.”

Ilya shrugs as casually as possible. “It’s only 6. Curfew is 8.”

Shane’s smile is so soft and happy that it reminds Ilya of the way he smiled in the hospital.

It’s so affecting it’s almost painful. Ilya wasn’t actually sure if Shane could smile like that while sober and turns out he’s very much capable of it and it’s maybe reserved for Ilya alone. But he can’t let himself think about that.

Ilya wishes he’d thought to wear a button up shirt so he could put Shane in it right now, but as it is he carefully helps Shane get dressed again and then steals a Montreal t-shirt from Shane’s suitcase for himself before they walk downstairs to join Rose.

Rose clocks the Montreal shirt immediately and looks at the logo and then at Ilya’s face.

Ilya raises his eyebrows at her challengingly. “What, you can wear his jersey and I can’t steal his shirt?”

Rose looks at Shane and mimes zipping her lips.

Shane lets out a sigh. “I really shouldn’t let you two be in the same room.”

Ilya shoots back, “We already were at the club.”

Rose’s brow furrows. “What? What club?”

Shane glares at Ilya.

Ilya’s eyes go wide, feigning innocence, “She didn’t notice?”

Shane blushes. “It’s not– Nothing happened.”

Ilya smirks and tells Rose, “When you and Shane were together, after the Boston-Montreal game, we were all at the same club after.”

Rose’s eyes slide to Shane. “Tell me he’s not implying anything happened.”

Shane doesn’t even understand what she means. “It’s not like we got into a bar fight or anything.”

Ilya snorts with laughter. “Oh my god, Shane. She is asking if you cheated on her with me in the bathroom or something.”

Shane chokes on air. “No! Fuck, no. Ilya was dancing with some girl.”

“Made you jealous, yes?” Ilya teases.

Shane’s mouth hangs open. “I had a girlfriend, Ilya.”

Ilya shrugs. “Okay, I did not hit on you, did I? It’s not my fault you looked.”

Shane’s eyes flick to Rose and then away from both of them.

Rose puts a gentle hand on Shane’s shoulder. Her voice has a teasing lilt to it. “So, you’re saying the super hot boy you were hooking up with before we got together was teasing you at a night club while you were trying to convince yourself you were bi for me?”

Shane lets his eyes fall closed. He can’t stand either of them.

Ilya perks up, eyeing Rose mischeviously. “So you think I’m super hot.”

Shane pulls out his phone. “I’m ordering take out.”

Ilya’s demeanor totally changes as they sit around the table and Shane realizes he can’t cut his own chicken.

Without a word, Ilya drags the plate away from him and starts cutting it for him without looking either of them in the eye.

Rose catches Shane’s gaze though and raises her eyebrows at him.

Shane just blushes.

After eating, Rose retreats to her room again and tells Ilya that despite it all, it was actually super nice to meet him.

And Ilya managed to admit, “It was nice to meet you too, Rose Landry" as Shane sighed and said that he has to stop calling her by her full name.

So then it’s just Shane and Ilya hovering by the door at 7:45pm.

“The hotel is 20 minutes away.” Shane says, eyes twinkling.

“I know,” Ilya says, hands on Shane’s hips, lips on Shane’s jaw.

And he’s been holding it back all day so he has to ask, “Have you thought about, um, do you think… this Summer…”

“I don’t know, Shane.” Ilya says, voice void of emotion.

Shane nods. “Yeah, no. I get it. It’s, um. Yeah, it’s complicated.”

I want to, Ilya can’t even bring himself to say it. “Should I send you a selfie from the ice when I win the cup?”

Shane has to laugh it off or it’ll hurt too much. “You fucking wish.”

Ilya kisses him and it’s more intense. Shane can taste the apology in it, the desire that Ilya is forcing himself to hold back.

If Ilya doesn’t go to the cottage, then they probably won’t see each other again until next season.

Shane can feel his eyes watering and he wishes he were better at holding it back.

When Ilya pulls back he sees it, thumb wiping at Shane’s eyes. “You will miss me,” Ilya tries to tease.

But Shane can’t joke about it. He presses his lips together and nods.

Ilya breaks. “I’ll miss you too.”

Shane finally meets his gaze, eyes sparkling with hope and unshed tears. “Really?”

Ilya hums, nodding, letting some genuine affection filter back into him.

“I’ll, um,” Shane digs deep to find the strength to say it, “I’ll see you next season?”

Ilya’s smile is just as sad as Shane’s. “Yes, next season. Probably.”

They kiss again and then Ilya’s gone.

Probably. Probably next season, but maybe sooner.

Shane holds onto the fact that Ilya hasn’t been able to say no.

★ ★ ★

Two months later, Shane sits on the deck while Ilya swims in the lake by his cottage and he texts Rose.

Shane: He said he loves me

Rose: shane, i say this with so much affection, no shit

Shane laughs fondly and watches his boyfriend swim, glowing in the sunshine.

★ ★ ★