everybody wins

★ ★ ★

Cliff Marleau gets traded to Montreal in the middle of the 2015-2016 season.

The day the trade was announced was like any other day a trade gets announced, except Ilya’s never felt like this about a trade before.

Cliff has mixed feelings about it and each of those feelings is turned to 11. Of all of the older guys on the team, he’s the one with the least amount of roots laid down in Boston. As far as teams go, Montreal is just as competitive as Boston. Both teams have generational talents as captains. He even speaks a bit of French already.

On paper, everything’s fine. But then he locks eyes with Rozanov in the locker room while he’s packing up his things.

Ilya’s emotions keep oscillating between the grief swirling in his chest of losing his best friend on the team to the sheer panic and odd jealousy of Cliff leaving to play with Shane. To live in the same city as Shane. How much has he told Shane about Cliff? Will Shane slip? Say something he shouldn’t know about Cliff? God, they need to talk about this.

“Roz.” There’s a level of acceptance in Cliff’s voice that Ilya can’t believe he’s reached already.

“Marly.” Ilya responds, lips twitching into a frown.

Cliff laughs, “Wow, you’re a softy.”

“Am not,” Ilya protests pointlessly.

With a disbelieving shake of his head, Cliff continues packing. “You’re gonna miss me.”

It’s not a question and Ilya doesn’t need to say anything for Cliff to know the answer. “You can’t let Hollander replace me as your best friend. I hear he is boring. Never goes out after games.”

Cliff puts his bag down and grips Ilya’s shoulder tightly, looking him directly in the eye in a way Ilya has to force himself not to shirk away from. “He won’t, brother.”

It’s not the first time Cliff’s called him brother, but it feels different this time.

Ilya repeats the word back to him in Russian, “Brother.”

Cliff nods and they wrap each other in a tight, quick embrace.

And then Cliff’s gone.

★ ★ ★

“Hey?” Shane answers the phone, sounding distracted and confused as he gets into his car after practice. 

“You can’t let Marly know we’re friends.” Ilya says immediately.

Shane doesn’t start driving. He just sits in the car in the parking lot, baffled. “How would he know that we’re– wait, really? You’re describing us as friends right now?” 

Ilya waves his hand expressively even though he’s actively speeding on the highway. “That we know each other. Whatever.”

It always takes Shane a second to respond to stuff like this. “Okay. I guess you have told me a lot of stories about him.”

That’s been a new development – being together outside of a bed long enough to actually tell each other stories.

They haven’t talked about the fact that they’ve been talking more, but it’s some form of progress.

In a weird way, Shane feels like they’re becoming friends. It’s out of order, since it used to just be sex and now he finds himself texting things to Ilya the same way he would text things to Hayden or J.J. The main difference being his massive crush on Ilya, but there are times when he forgets this is supposed to be a casual hookup and he finds himself wanting to just… talk.

Ilya curses under his breath and Shane realizes it’s road rage but before he can insist Ilya be careful, he’s rambling. “You have to be nice to him. I hear so many stories about how terrible Captain Hollander is to team. So harsh. But Marly is good guy, good player. Great wing. He will play well with you when your coach can get his head out of his ass and realize Marly should be on your line. You will score a lot of goals with him. Not against me, I know you both too well. So you have to make sure they give him a fair chance. Montreal can be stupid, you know this. Make them see him.”

Shane’s stunned into silence. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard Ilya say this many words in a row before. “You’re close with him.” It’s an obvious deduction, but Shane has never witnessed this before: what it looks like for Ilya to care about someone.

Ilya sighs harshly. “Yes. He’s my best friend.”

Silence again.

Ilya makes an annoyed sound. “Don’t be weird, Hollander. You have Pike. Is it so wrong I have Marly? You’re allowed to have best friend and I’m not?”

“I didn’t say that!” Shane protests but yeah, maybe he was thinking some version of that. “You’re the one who always acts like you don’t care. Sorry it’s taking me a second to adjust to what it sounds like when you give a shit.”

Ilya’s the one to go silent at that. He tsks. “Yes, I give a shit about Marleau. If it was anywhere else… I wouldn’t be able to call and threaten his new captain. But it’s you.”

Shane breathes that in. There’s something complex in that sentence that he can’t even begin to unpack. But it’s you.

“I’ll take care of him, Rozanov. You have my word. I look out for my team.”

Ilya sighs softly. “I know you do, Hollander.” His voice is different now. The jig is up. He hesitates but forces the words out of his mouth. “I’m glad it’s you.”

Shane doesn’t even consider teasing him for this. It’s too serious in a way Ilya’s never been before. “I’m sorry you’re losing him.”

Ilya agrees, “Yes, team will suffer. They’re sending us a guy from Minnesota, three way trade. But he is not as good as Marley.”

“I don’t mean the team, Rozanov. I’m sorry your friend is moving away.”

Ilya resists the emotion. “You also mean the team.”

Shane rolls his eyes. “Fine, I also mean the team.”

There’s a moment where they could get even more sincere. Actually say the things they’re talking around.

So of course Ilya says, “We play Montreal in two weeks. If I hear Marly is settling in well, maybe I will let you suck my dick.”

Moment over. Shane pinches the bridge of his nose. “Let me. You’re an asshole, Rozanov.”

“See you in two weeks?”

“Yeah, see you.” Shane hangs up. He’s going to play on a team with Ilya’s best friend. What could possibly go wrong?

★ ★ ★

Introductions are tense. It’s not like Montreal’s never traded before, but it feels different to have a player from Boston. If it were anyone else, this would take weeks to break the ice and develop chemistry. But it’s Cliff Marleau who is apparently the most charismatic man in the league.

“Shane Hollander,” Cliff holds out his hand to his new captain as the rest of the team pretends not to be watching as they get dressed in the locker room for practice.

“Cliff Marleau.” Shane shakes his hand with as welcoming a smile as he can muster, Ilya’s threats playing quietly in the back of his mind.

Cliff smiles. “You don’t seem pissed I’m from Boston.”

Shane shrugs. “I hear you’re a great wing.”

Cliff’s brow furrows. “From who?”

It has been two seconds and Shane has already fucked up. He’s doomed. “Around. I don’t remember.”

“Hm,” Cliff lets it go. “Are you as much of a drill sergeant as people say you are?”

Shane can see why Cliff and Ilya get along and it endears him to Cliff immediately. With a huff of a laugh, Shane glances at Hayden. “I don’t know if I can answer that.”

Hayden smirks and gives his answer. “Only after preventable mistakes.”

The words are so specific, Cliff can tell the team has heard them a lot while doing drills over and over. He nods his head to Shane. “Fair enough.”

There’s a moment during practice where Shane finds himself leaning against the boards with Cliff, no one else around.

Cliff looks at him conspiratorily. “Weirdest thing happened this morning.”

Shane blinks and tears his eyes away from studying the guys doing drills and tries his best to remember how to make small talk. “Oh yeah?”

Cliff nods, also watching the drills. “Rozanov texted me before practice and told me you’re funnier than you seem.”

It’s like someone has dumped ice down Shane’s back. “What?”

Cliff laughs. “That’s what I said. What the hell are you and Rozy chirping at each other during those face offs that you impressed the king of assholes?”

Shane thinks about phone calls while driving home from practice, text messages, hands running through his hair as they lay side by side in bed. He clears his throat. “Honestly, I usually tell him to shut up.”

Cliff seems confused.

Shane realizes his mistake immediately. Cliff assumed Ilya knows about Shane’s humor from faceoffs. If it’s not from faceoffs, why would he say that?

This isn’t even Shane’s fault. Ilya’s the one who fucking texted Marleau.

Shane rushes to add, “And that his jersey is on backwards.”

He had actually said that to Ilya once during a faceoff and it caught Ilya so off guard that he actually choked on a laugh as the puck dropped.

Cliff barks out a laugh in much the same way. “That’s so stupid.”

Shane shrugs. “That’s why it was funny.”

Cliff takes a close look at Shane and smirks. “Okay, I see what he means. You’ve got that chill exterior but you’re not the hockey robot people make you out to be.”

The words make Shane bristle for a moment. He can’t control how other teams talk about him, but it’s hard to hear even if Cliff is saying he doesn’t agree with it. “Coach is calling us over.”

Cliff watches Shane snap the wall back up and can’t help feeling guilty about it. 

As he lines up for a drill he gets a weird sense of deja vu. It takes the entire rest of the practice to realize what triggered it.

He glances at Shane across the locker room as they all pack up to head home and remembers his first day in the locker room with Ilya. The cold exterior, the desperate urge to impress everyone, and the soft heart buried under it all.

He picks up his phone to send off a text.

Cliff: you two have a lot in common

Ilya: who

Cliff: you and hollander

Ilya doesn’t respond.

★ ★ ★

Two weeks later, Ilya’s in Montreal and texts Shane before the game.

Lily: marly wants to get drinks after

Jane: Okay?

Lily: he’s settling well, i promised i’d let you suck my dick. but can’t sneak to your place if marly wants to get drinks

Jane: So get drinks. I won’t die without your dick

Lily: HA. yes you will. you need it. dont lie to me

Jane: This is a you problem. Either get drinks or cancel. Let me know what you decide

Another text comes in and Shane’s about to silence his phone when he realizes it’s not from Ilya.

Cliff: can i ask an insane question that you’re gonna want to say no to but let me please try to convince you to say yes

Shane cannot believe this. Did Ilya put him up to this?

Shane: Okay…

Cliff: what if we have drinks after the game

Shane: That’s not insane

Cliff: with my friend

Shane plays dumb.

Shane: Glad to hear you’ve started making friends in Montreal

Cliff: this particular friend is from boston

Shane: No

Cliff: okay i told you you were gonna want to say no but let me convince you

Shane: Ask the rest of the team, I’m not drinking with him

Cliff: …i didn’t even say who it was

Fuck. He sure didn’t.

Shane: I can guess

Cliff: okay, guess then. i haven’t talked too much about the guys from boston because i know that would provoke the montreal guys. of the people ive talked to you about, who do you think i’d actually have drinks with after leaving the team?

Shane wants to throw his phone across the room. Cliff actually hasn’t talked about Ilya at all. Which was a great survival instinct on his part. It would not have endeared him to Montreal to talk about being friends with Ilya Rozanov.

Shane: Poirier

Cliff: the goalie??? have you listened to anything i said about him?

Cliff: it was a trick question anyway, i haven’t talked about him much and i don’t think anyone else would come if i told them who it was but i think you’d be curious!!!! it would be so funny to see you two in the same room outside of a hockey rink since i’m kind of friends with both of you now. i mean i’m definitely friends with him and i like to think i have swayed you

Shane: Hayden is getting jealous which proves your point a bit. Who are you talking about?

Cliff: don’t play dumb, who would i want to see in the same room between boson and montreal

Shane: I’m not going out with him.

Cliff: we’re not going out! he’s gonna come to my place

It fractures something in Shane’s chest to hear that. Cliff can just… tell his teammate that Ilya is going to be at his house and it’s not earth shattering.

Jane: Was this your idea?

Lily: i wish it was, cliff asked me earlier and i told him there was no chance in hell you’d agree to it

Shane frowns at his phone. What’s wrong with him that reverse psychology is so effective?

Lily: come drink with us. maybe we can sneak away and suck each other off in the bathroom

Jane: ????? Sneak off??? When there are only 3 of us in HIS house????

Lily: you drive me back to hotel in your car and we do hand jobs

Jane: You’re this desperate for me?

Ilya stops responding.

Shane rolls his eyes and pockets his phone. Maybe it was a dick move but Shane’s annoyed. This is a stupid idea and Ilya knows it. But he can understand why it’s hard to resist the allure of them all being together. If this were reversed and it was, say, Hayden who was traded to Boston and had miraculously befriended Ilya, he would want them all to be in the same room together too.

Shane: I’ll go if we win

Cliff: YOU ALREADY KNOW HOW TO MOTIVATE ME, CAP

★ ★ ★

Shane spends the entire drive after the game trying to figure out how he and Ilya would act around each other if they really were rivals who barely saw each other off the ice.

All he can come up with is that he would be tense, so that’s easy enough to replicate.

He knocks on the door.

Ilya opens it.

They stare at each other in this brief moment of privacy.

“Hey.” Shane says softly, shoulders dropping.

“Hey,” Ilya smiles, eyes drifting down Shane’s body and back up. It’s not even lewd, it's just…

Cliff calls out from the other room. “Is one of you dead yet?”

Ilya mumbles as he lets Shane in, “He can’t see.”

Shane glances over and realizes what Ilya means. The house isn’t what you could describe as an open floor plan, so they have an opportunity for a moment to themselves once the door is closed before moving into the living room where Cliff could see them.

Shane grabs Ilya’s face and crashes their lips together, not even slipping him tongue in case it’s too loud.

Ilya’s hands find Shane’s hips and they both just stand there for a moment, chests flushed.

Then Shane yanks away.

He rubs the back of his hand across his lips. He looks at Ilya with panic in his eyes, “That was stupid.” Even though he’s the one who did it.

Ilya smiles back. “Worth it.”

Shane walks into the living room first. “Hey, Marleau.”

Ilya’s right behind him, gagging. “Hollander, how can you be his captain if you don’t call him Marly?”

Shane glares at him. “It’s been two weeks.”

Ilya grabs a beer off the kitchen counter and takes a sip. “I was calling him Marly after two days.”

“Congratulations?” Shane’s unimpressed and a little peeved that Ilya is questioning his competency as a captain, even though he knows Ilya is joking.

Ilya shoots back. “Even though it was against us, he is still a great wing. I was sad to not see him on first line.”

Cliff is watching the conversation like the Wimbeldon fucking final until the words out of Ilya’s mouth jar something in his brain, I hear you’re a great wing.

Weird coincidence. 

Cliff interrupts. “Alright, maybe we should’ve asked more of the guys to come.”

Shane snorts, “They would’ve killed him.”

“And you won’t?” Ilya asks in a lilting tone, getting dangerously close to flirty.

And the thing is, Shane has been thinking about how he’d treat Ilya if they weren’t what they are. He knows this will stun Ilya but he decides to say it anyway. “I have too much respect for the only guy in the league that can keep up with me. It’d be too boring without you.”

All the energy drains out of Ilya as the words hit him. “Respect?”

Shane shoulders past him. “Don’t make me say it again, Rozanov.” He grabs a beer and pops it open.

Ilya looks at Cliff and they have matching expressions of absolute shock on their faces.

Cliff breaks the silence, “Did you say something nice to him?”

Shane shrugs, avoiding Ilya’s gaze. “I said something true.”

Cliff stammers, “I really thought I was gonna have to drag you two off each other and call you a cab or something.”

Shane can’t help the blush on his cheeks as his mind supplies him with a different reason for them to be dragged off each other. “We’d never get through the night if we didn't acknowledge that the best part of the rivalry is having a real challenge. I know you feel the same way.” Shane lets his eyes slip to Ilya just for a moment.

Ilya’s still recovering. “Yes. The challenge. You respect me? Sounds like publicity line, Hollander.”

Shane rolls his eyes. “Fuck, just take the olive branch and boot up the Xbox.”

“Olive branch?” Ilya looks to Cliff for help.

Cliff wheezes. “An offering of peace.”

Ilya tries again. “Offering?”

“I’m playing nice, Rozanov.” Shane says gruffly as he settles on the couch and grabs a controller. “Would love to see if you can do it too.”

Ilya spends the whole night trying not to just stare at Shane.

This is weird.

Ilya really thought Shane would be the one fucking this up. He thought Shane would be stumbling and saying too much or blushing. And, well, he does still blush too much. But he’s… good at this?

Ilya’s the one staring at him, dumbstruck.

The night goes by completely platonically.

Shane glances at his watch. “You have a curfew?”

Ilya shrugs. “I can be late.”

Shane takes a breath and pretends to think about it for a long time. “I’ll give you a ride back to the hotel.”

Cliff can’t believe it. “No fucking way. I can’t be an accessory to murder. You’re gonna dump him in a ditch.”

Shane glares at Cliff and says nothing.

Cliff gestures between them. “Fine! You’ve both played nice all night and I got to hang out with both my really cool friends, but it’s going to take some getting used to for you two to be… chill with each other.”

Shane goes in for the half hug with Cliff. “I won’t kill him.”

Cliff pats his back. “Yeah, yeah. I believe you.”

Ilya stands to leave and has a moment of indecision.

As much as he was distracted by whatever this act from Shane was, it was really, really fucking nice to spend time with Cliff again.

He takes long, fast strides across the room and pulls Cliff into his arms, not caring what either of them thinks about it.

Cliff hugs him back just as tightly. “I missed you too, brother.”

Ilya responds in Russian, “I missed you more, my brother.”

When they pull away, they lock eyes for a moment.

Cliff frowns. “You can go out with Poi.”

Ilya shoots him a look.

Cliff groans, “Oh, grow up. You get along with other guys on the team.”

Ilya’s eyes shift to Shane for a moment and he drops his voice as he looks back at Cliff. “They’re not you.”

“You’re a fucking softy, Roz.”

“I know. It’s terrible.” Ilya frowns as he pulls on his jacket. “I’ll see you?”

Cliff walks them to the door. “Text me when you’re in your hotel room so I can make sure I don’t have to report Hollander to the cops.”

Shane laughs it off and shoves his hands into his pockets, guiding Ilya to his car.

Once they’re in the car and the doors close, they both let out huge breaths of relief.

Shane’s entire body language changes.

It’s weird. If you had asked Ilya, he would’ve said that Shane looked nonplussed all night. He looked… calm, unbothered.

But now that Shane’s actually relaxed Ilya can tell just how tense he was. “What the fuck was that?”

Shane shoots him a look as he starts driving. “What was what?”

Ilya gestures back at the house. “You will win an Oscar?”

Shane’s brow furrows. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re an actor.”

Shane’s baffled. “You lied well too. I don’t think he noticed anything.”

Ilya cannot let this go. “No, you don’t even understand. Sure, I lied. You were… it was like I was in alter– alternate, um–”

“Universe.”

“Yes. Like I made it all up and we never actually fucked. How did you do that?”

Shane wishes he could look at Ilya’s face more closely right now but he focuses on the road. “It’s just interesting, you know? What would it be like if we didn’t actually… you know.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Ilya watches Shane’s side profile as he drives, studying him.

Shane catches him. “What?”

Ilya shakes his head. “You are fascinating.”

“You’re an asshole,” Shane says without any weight behind it.

“I’m in a single room.” Ilya says.

Shane doesn’t need any further context to know what that means.

He parks in the back of the lot and reaches into his centre console to tug on a baseball cap.

Ilya smirks, “1142.” He heads in first, knowing that Shane will follow.

★ ★ ★

There aren’t as many close calls as Ilya expected there to be.

It’s quite the opposite actually.

Shane genuinely becomes close with Cliff and it leads to them making a group chat with the three of them. (Shane and Ilya migrate their more private chats to a different app so Cliff can’t see that on Shane’s phone the group chat includes Lily.)

The closest calls for the rest of the season were as follows:

1. Ilya having a small crisis turning Cliff down for drinks in Montreal because he needed to make the most of his time fucking Shane. He made the excuse of seeing his Montreal girl which was true, in a way, but reminded Cliff that he should ask more about this girl now that he lives there.
2. That one time Ilya got a little too drunk and accidentally sexted the group chat, “I wanna suck your dick so bad,” which resulted in Cliff freaking out on Ilya’s behalf to make sure Shane wasn’t homophobic or biphobic and to ignore a drunk sext that was clearly meant for someone else and it wasn’t their business to wonder who. Shane just texted Ilya back on the other app and said, “Can’t believe you’re sexing ME and I’m being questioned about being homophobic.”
   
   The following morning Ilya reread all the text threads feeling incredibly lucky that the text hadn’t been sent to anyone else.
   
   Ilya: how the fuck did you know i’m bi before this???
   Cliff: dude, you indiscriminately check out every hot person in every bar we’ve ever been to
   Ilya: hm. fair
3. And finally, in a hotel room during an away game, Cliff and Shane were roommates because management told them they can’t spend three consecutive nights with the same person for the sake of team building and Cliff had said, “You know, sometimes I think you never hated him.”
   
   Shane had the audacity to say, “Who?” Cliff glared at him and Shane laughed. “I hate him on the ice. Not off it.”
   
   Cliff pushed, “Sometimes I think you like him.”
   
   Shane laughed that off before he could panic too much about it. “We have more in common than I would’ve expected.”
   
   Cliff left it at that, but didn’t miss the way Shane’s eyes softened as he said it.

★ ★ ★

★ ★ ★

The Summer gets weird because Ilya’s in Russia and he knows that Cliff is doing Summer training with Shane so he gives Cliff a mission: 

Ilya: secretly take the worst pictures of hollander you can and send them to me

Cliff: lmao why???

Ilya: training motivation

Cliff: just say you’re bored in russia and anything would entertain you

Ilya: im bored in russia and anything would entertain me

Cliff: [photo attached]

Ilya: holy shit you work fast

Cliff: youre lucky i’m annoying and have already been doing this to all the metros

It’s been a month of this when Ilya finally breaks.

Lily: youre cute when you sleep

Jane: You know, I thought you were in Russia and I don’t know if it’s scarier to imagine you’re here stalking me or if you’re still there and hid a camera in my suitcase or something

Lily: [photo attached]

Jane: Where the FUCK did you get that picture??

Lily: marly

Jane: I will ask him point blank if his loyalty is to Boston or to Montreal

Lily: and how will you explain to him why you’re asking that

Jane: I hate you

Lily: 😇

★ ★ ★

Shane thought it was bad enough having Hayden and J.J. obsessed with figuring out who Boston Lily was.

He hadn’t even begun to consider how much worse it would get when Cliff, from Boston, was added to the mix.

Hayden informs Cliff, “The only reason to keep it from us is if she’s famous or married.”

Shane’s eye twitches in irritation. “I can’t just keep my private life private?”

“We’re your friends, capitaine!” J.J. whines, betrayal written on his every feature. “We deserve to see pictures of your hot girlfriend!”

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Shane bristles the way he always does when he has to lie about this.

Cliff ponders all of this. “It’s not, like, one of the players’ sisters or anything, right? I don’t think I know a Lily.”

Every head in the locker room turns to him.

“Holy shit,” Hayden perks up. “We have an inside man.”

Shane continues getting ready, telling himself he shouldn’t engage but he can’t help himself. “It’s not like Marly knows everyone in Boston.”

Cliff shrugs. “My body count isn’t what one would call low.” He notices Shane uses Ilya’s nickname for him but doesn’t point it out. Just smiles to himself.

Every single break they got during Summer training that day was spent theorizing while Shane pointedly ignored them.

Lily: marly says the metros are talking about me??

Jane: I’m deleting that. They’re all trying to look at my phone more. Please I’m begging you to be subtle right now

Lily: what, you don’t want your hot sexy teammates to know how desperate you get when you’re underneath me, moaning my name

J.J. sees the text and relays it to the whole team.

They spend the rest of the week calling themselves Shane Hollander’s hot sexy teammates.

★ ★ ★

Lily: marly keeps trying to theorize about boston lily with me and i keep saying more and more insane things to try and throw him off but he kind of believes them all

Jane: This is mortifying. Imagine if we weren’t this and he was texting you about me like this. 

Lily: you reallyyyyy want to roleplay as if we don’t know each other

Jane: What are you talking about?

Lily: ever since marly traded there, you think about how it would be if we didnt fuck

Jane: I have to??? So he doesn’t catch us???

Lily: it’s kind of hot in a weird way i guess

Jane: We play Boston next week and we’re getting there a day early

Lily: yeah i told cliff i have plans

Jane: ??

Lily: with you dumbass

Jane: Fuck you. I know you meant me. I didn’t hear about plans

Lily: oh yeah you need to rsvp and get a ticket and stand in line. it is very big deal to fuck me in secret lately, everyone wants to do it

Jane: Just text me your address, asshole

Lily: [address attached]

★ ★ ★

Ilya makes tuna melts.

He uses Shane’s first name.

Shane leaves.

And the Ilya, Shane, and Cliff group chat goes dead silent for weeks.

Cliff: why don’t we talk here anymore

Cliff: hello?????

Cliff: what’s going on with you and hollander

Ilya: nothing

Cliff: wow convincing

Ilya: turns out we hate each other after all. summer was glitch

Cliff: ??? what the fuck did he do to you?

Ilya: i do not want to talk about him marly unless it is about how to crush him next game

It’s a few weeks later when Cliff sees the news about Shane and Rose. He makes the mistake of texting Ilya about it.

Ilya: she’s not even that pretty

Cliff: dude.

Cliff: she’s like #1 imdb star meter, on the cover of every magazine at grocery check out, she was a victoria secret model last year

Ilya: what the fuck is imdb star

Cliff: why are you being so weird? i fully remember you watching one of her movies on the team plane and spending a full week telling everyone about all your elaborate masturbation fantasies about her

Ilya: i don’t remember that

Cliff: is this because you’re mad at hollander?

Ilya: who?

Cliff: get over yourself. he’s my friend, brother. so if he really did something to hurt you, you need to tell me because i’m your ride or die, yeah? if something happened tell me and i’ll get revenge

Ilya: i can’t ruin your team chemistry like that

Cliff: oh so it was REALLY bad and i should kill him

Ilya: don’t kill him, it’s nothing

Cliff: very clearly not nothing but whatever. i’ll keep asking

Cliff texts Ilya while he watches a Boston game from home.

Cliff: you’ve been playing like shit ever since this fight with hollander

Ilya: i don’t know what you’re talking about

Cliff: what did he do to fuck you up this bad??? did he fuck your sister or something?????

Ilya: i don’t have a sister

Cliff: yeah i know so what the fuck did he do

Ilya leaves him on read.

★ ★ ★

The news comes just before the All-Star game and the timing couldn’t be worse.

The shock coursing through Ilya is the kind that they give you a blanket for. It’s not just mental, his body is in shock.

This is the kind of thing that was never supposed to happen to a player like him. Especially not mid-season. And especially not to Montreal.

The hockey world is in an uproar and Ilya Rozanov is on a plane to Montreal–movers hired, a new jersey awaiting him, and the last person he could possibly want to even be in the same room with as his new captain.

★ ★ ★

★ ★ ★

The timing couldn’t be better.

Shane had his talk with Rose and has never felt better about a breakup in his life.

He’s had some time to really process it and what it meant for him. What it meant for how he feels about Ilya.

And then the Metros coach called them in for an emergency meeting. Some of their best players would be cut and traded to Boston to make room for Ilya Rozanov in one of the most shocking overnight trades in franchise history.

Shane’s heart starts beating two times fast but he has no idea what he’s supposed to think or feel about this. His teammates are looking at him, his coach is looking at him. Should he be mad? Excited? Confused?

He feels all of those things, so maybe his real reaction is enough.

It’s Cliff’s gaze that he lingers on though.

Cliff looks… worried.

Shane finds him after practice and tries to ask him about Ilya.

Cliff’s expression closes off. “He’s been pissed at you for months and I’ve been respecting the fact that both of you have ghosted the group chat to deal with whatever happened, but if he’s on his way to Montreal then one of you needs to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Shane deflates. “It’s a misunderstanding.”

The man is so chill that Shane wouldn’t have thought it possible off the ice, but Cliff burns with rage. “I’ve never seen Roz so down and you’re acting like it’s nothing so if you’re not gonna tell me, I can only assume that you did something shitty to my best friend. I’ll trust you on the ice, cap, but that’s all I can do for you.” He storms off.

Shane watches him go.

Tomorrow morning Ilya Rozanov will be a Montreal Metro and Shane has to figure out how to act like they’re strangers while confessing to Ilya that he wants them to give this a try for real.

★ ★ ★

Shane sits in the parking lot before heading in for morning skate with his new teammate for the first time.

Jane: Can we talk?

Ilya doesn’t respond.

Probably because he knows it’s Shane’s worst nightmare of a social situation to not have a reaction prepared for this.

Shane takes some long, slow breaths before getting out of the car.

He’s usually earlier, but Shane couldn’t stand the idea of answering the same questions over and over as new people arrived so he’s here five minutes early.

The locker room is loud as Shane walks down the hallway and the moment he walks in they all look at him and go quiet before starting up again in whispers.

Shane expected this. He knew he’d have to make some kind of statement about the rivalry to his team.

He glances around and sees that Ilya isn’t here yet.

Is it better to do this now or once Ilya’s here? God, he has no idea. He wishes they would’ve talked about this.

He thinks about Ilya’s house in Boston. He thinks about walking away. About Rose. About the feelings he can no longer pretend aren’t there.

Bile rises in his throat. It’s too much.

Right as he opens his mouth to talk, the locker room door swings open again.

Ilya walks in, all swagger. He swings his arm around Shane’s shoulders. “Hey, Captain.” Then he presses his lips to Shane’s cheek and walks away.

The room goes silent.

Shane’s face turns bright red and every single thought in his brain whites out.

Shane’s going to kill him.

He’s going to actually kill him.

The only thing he can hold onto is the fact that he’s spent the last year thinking about what he and Ilya would be like if they weren’t fucking. So he has the capacity to see this from his teammates’ perspectives. There’s no way they’d jump to the conclusion of Shane and Ilya being fuck buddies. No, to them this is Ilya Rozanov pulling one of the most insane alpha dog moves of all time.

This is Ilya Rozanov at full I don’t give a shit after being traded away from the team he’s won cups for and losing his captaincy only to have to call his biggest rival captain instead.

But Shane knows this is also Ilya after Shane walked out on him, after Shane dated Rose. This is Ilya knowing exactly how to hurt Shane in this moment. By making their intimacy into a locker room joke.

Maybe he didn’t think it would be this bad, but Shane expected this. So he lets himself dissociate from his emotions and says what he planned to say. He doesn’t think about Ilya’s lips on his cheek in front of his team. He doesn’t think about months of radio silence.

He thinks about a world where he and Ilya Rozanov never had sex and what it would take for them to be teammates, to be friends.

“Ilya Rozanov is one of the greatest players the league has ever seen.” Shane’s voice is even in a way he doubted it would be for a second. The laughter and whispers stop again, looking at him in disbelief. He even looks at Ilya before he continues. “I’ll say it again, just to make sure you all heard me. Ilya Rozanov is one of the greatest players the league has ever seen.”

He lets that sit for a second and then goes on. “I’m not gonna pretend this won’t be hard. It’s going to be an adjustment. For us, for the fans. I mean, fuck, the reporters aren’t gonna know what to do with themselves.” The room laughs a bit.

Even Ilya huffs a laugh before catching himself.

Shane looks everyone in the eye. This used to be harder but he’s good at this now, when he needs to be. “I’m sure Boston talks shit about me, about the Metros. So yeah, we’ve talked shit about you too, Rozanov. But now you’re with us. There’s a lot of bullshit we’re gonna have to deal with, but I know for a fact that if there’s one thing you want it’s another cup. So help us get a fucking cup, okay, Rozanov?”

Ilya’s a little peeved that Shane was resilient enough to not let the cheek kiss phase him. But to be fair, he’s never seen this side of Shane. He’s seen the hockey prodigy in faceoffs, his hook up in hotel rooms, but as captain in the locker room? Yeah, this is new.

Shane’s eyes are focused, strong.

Ilya studies every line of his body and looks for a sign that Shane is hurting.

There’s nothing until he finishes talking and all eyes turn to Ilya.

Then Shane softens, just for a moment. Just enough for Ilya to see it.

The fear Ilya was trying to ignore relents, just a bit.

Shane hasn’t moved on from this, from them.

Shane blinks and the emotion gets filed away as their teammates look between them again.

Ilya lets himself be an asshole, “Easy enough.”

Shane rolls his eyes and the tension breaks just a little as his lips quirk into a smile. “Okay, let’s go.”

As Shane turns away from the room to pull his skates on, Cliff tackles Ilya into a hug. “We’re fucking back.”

Ilya’s grin is shark-like as he grips the back of Cliff’s head, pressing their foreheads together. “We’re fucking back, Marly.”

It’s Cliff’s approval that makes the biggest impact on the team. 

There are uncountable reasons why Shane can’t vouch for Ilya more, why his opinion wouldn’t have much weight right now, but he thinks what he said had the effect he was aiming for.

They don’t need the chemistry to be perfect on day one, but if their captain can say Rozanov’s a great player, then the others can let themselves think it too. He’s not their enemy anymore. 

When they make it onto the ice, Shane finds himself surprised that Ilya mostly ignores him.

Then he realizes it makes perfect sense. Ilya’s an instigator, sure, but he’s a team player. He wants to show the team, their coaches, that he’s serious about the game. He’s not going to make this personal.

Part of Shane was braced for it, expecting to be checked into the boards and whispered to.

But he feels guilty for expecting that. Ilya’s a great player. This is how great players behave.

Practice ends and Ilya leaves the rink with Cliff.

Shane watches them go.

This isn’t what he fantasized about.

He thought, maybe, the team would all go out together and he could situate himself next to Ilya and tell him…

But Ilya leaves with Cliff.

And the terrible thing is, it makes sense.

★ ★ ★

Ilya drops onto Cliff’s couch and tries not to think about the last time he was here with Shane. He’s crashing with Cliff for now while he gets his life in order after this sudden change.

Cliff opens the fridge and grabs them beers without even asking.

Ilya accepts it and they both just sit on the couch for a minute.

Cliff breaks the silence, “You really thought hazing him was the best first impression you could make?”

“Power move,” Ilya says bluntly.

Cliff laughs, “Sure, brother.”

Ilya doesn’t offer anything else up.

Cliff nudges again, “So are you two still not talking?”

Ilya glares at him. “We were never talking.”

Cliff raises his eyebrows. “My group chat history begs to differ, Roz.”

Ilya presses his lips together. Letting Shane befriend Cliff was a bad idea. But how could they have known Ilya would be traded too?

The problem is that Ilya hasn’t been able to come up with a believable lie for why he’s been acting the way he’s been acting. He could say that Shane said something homophobic but that would spiral horribly. He can’t even make it about hockey because Shane so graciously said he thinks Ilya is a great player not only in front of Cliff but now in front of the entire Montreal team.

Shane is so buttoned up, how could Ilya ever explain what happened? How could he explain that he wanted more and Shane walked away?

There’s only one option and it’s the thing he’s been avoiding for months. 

He lets out a breath and says, “I’ll talk to him.”

“Fucking finally,” Cliff says and raises his beer to Ilya.

Ilya lets out a harsh breath and sits up. “Turn on the Xbox.”

While they play, Ilya thinks about how the fuck to do this. He lays out all the pieces of the problem:

1. Shane isn’t over him
2. Shane is dating a movie star
3. Ilya’s not a captain anymore
4. Ilya has to figure out how to work under a captain again
5. Shane is his new captain
6. Svetlana refuses to buy a Metros jersey
7. He needs to find a place to live
8. Everything is in fucking French
9. He’s on a team with Hayden Pike
10. The Montreal coach is kind of a dick
11. He’s not on the first line anymore
12. He’s not over Shane

★ ★ ★

Later that night, Ilya goes for a drive and he calls Shane.

“Hello?”

Ilya wonders if Shane will ever not be surprised when he calls him. “Hi, captain.”

Shane sighs. “You know, I’ve been trying to get you to talk to me for weeks. And now you’re calling me after whatever the fuck that was in the locker room this morning?”

Ilya should be pissed. He should be righteously infuriated by this lecture from Shane after all this time. But he can hear the affection threaded through every word. This is how Shane flirts and Ilya’s lips twitch into a smile despite himself. He’s weak. “Do you need to tell your girlfriend that a boy kissed you today?”

“We broke up.” Shane doesn’t talk around it. He rips off the bandaid.

Ilya nearly swerves off the road. “You broke up?”

“Yes,” Shane says with a laugh. “I’ve been trying to–”

Ilya has to pull over actually because laughter is bubbling up in him. He pulls into the parking lot of a fast food place and cracks up laughing. “Fuck, Hollander.”

“You sound insane.” Still, there’s that lilting tone in his voice.

“Yes,” Ilya agrees. “Was that first thing you wanted to do? Break up with your girlfriend and talk to me?”

“Kind of.” Shane admits, too earnest. He’s always too fucking earnest.

Fuck, Ilya lov–

“Text me your address.” Ilya says quickly.

“No,” Shane says immediately. “Early practice tomorrow.”

“Who the fuck cares, Hollander.”

Shane laughs sharply and that tone from the locker room is back. “If you thought I was boring for taking care of myself, you’re in for a shock now that you’re on my team, Rozanov. Now when you stay up late, you’re not fucking with Boston. You’re fucking with Montreal, my team. So no. I’m not texting you my address. You’re going to sleep and I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

Ilya tries again, desperate, “So fast, I just drive by and kiss you.”

“Night, Rozanov. 8 a.m. tomorrow.” Shane hangs up. But his lips are curved into the biggest smile as he hugs his phone to his chest.

God, they’re fucked.

But they’re winning this fucking cup.

★ ★ ★

★ ★ ★

Ilya shoots Shane a text in the locker room the next morning.

Lily: marly might figure it out if i’m gone tonight

Shane checks his phone and has an out of body experience.

It’s weird to get a text from “Lily” knowing that “she” is four stalls away from him.

Jane: How would that be enough to figure it out

Lily: because you will be nice to me today and then i won’t go home. unless you want to come back to my place and let him listen

Shane deletes all these texts. They’re too specific if anyone tries to look at his phone screen.

Jane: Then I won’t be nice to you

Lily: yes you will

Shane locks his phone and can’t resist glancing to his right.

Ilya is leaning back against his stall, phone in hand, shirt off. He raises his eyebrows at Shane.

Shane nearly gives himself whiplash turning away from him.

Maybe it was better when they weren’t talking.

Ilya behaves during practice again and it goes a long way with building trust with the team.

He gives genuine feedback and takes instruction when it’s given.

He does what he’s asked and he doesn’t complain. Not even when they test him out on a line with Pike. Hayden’s not thrilled about it either.

Shane ends up pulling Hayden aside to talk about it the same way Cliff pulls aside Ilya.

“Dude, chill out,” Shane says.

Hayden glares at him. “That’s rich coming from you. I spent years hating the guy and I thought you did too. It’s hard to adjust this quickly.”

Shane’s eyes find Ilya across the ice. “Give me a second.”

He skates over to Ilya and Cliff.

Ilya’s eyes slide to Shane as he approaches. “Captain.”

Shane’s eye twitches in irritation but he ignores the new nickname. “Say something nice to Hayden.”

Cliff raises his eyebrows. It’s an insane thing to say to a new player, but he supposes Shane and Ilya have been some form of friends the last few months.

Ilya frowns. “Why me? He can say something nice to me.”

Shane shoots back, “How good are Hayden’s chirps?”

“Shitty,” Ilya says immediately.

Shane raises his eyebrows. “Okay, so go say something nice to him.” He skates away.

It takes Ilya a second to realize what Shane means.

Ilya’s never been bothered by whatever nonsense Pike comes up with, but Hayden’s been taking Ilya’s chirps personally.

Fuck.

His eyes find Hayden who is glaring at him.

Shane’s a good captain. Ilya knew that, theoretically, but it’s different to see it in action like this. It’s different to see Shane being a good captain for him.

Cliff’s staring at Ilya. “So you and Hollander are good again?”

Ilya shakes off his reverie. “Hm? Yeah. We were never– It’s fine.”

After a sigh, Cliff shakes his head. “You know, if I was a smarter guy I’d be connecting some dots right now.”

Ilya’s brow furrows. “What the fuck are you saying, Marly?”

Cliff glances around and sees no one near them. “Bi, Montreal girl, Hollzy's Boston girl, your fight with Hollzy, your sudden hatred of Rose Landry. But I’m not smart enough to know what that means, right?”

Ilya refuses to look at Cliff. “There are no dots.”

“I won’t tell anyone, brother.” Cliff says gently.

Ilya nods, mouth a thin line.

Cliff pats him on the back and skates away.

Ilya breathes in deep, lets the sharp scent of ice fill his senses. 

He skates over to Hayden, “Your footwork is good. Use it to work your way up the wing on your own before you pass to center.”

Hayden stares at him, dumbstruck.

Ilya shrugs. “I might even pass it back for a one touch if you’re lucky.”

The next round of drills goes infinitely better.

Shane’s eyes follow the puck closely the entire time, calculating.

J.J. elbows him. “This must be insane for you.”

“Yeah,” Shane says blandly. He can only have this conversation so many times.

“No, I mean, like,” J.J. tries again. “When you sit here and think up dynamics and plays, you’ve never been able to slot in a player like him before. Besides yourself. Must be insane to have this kind of tool in your toolbelt, no?”

The words come out a little disjointed but Shane knows what he means because he was just thinking the same thing. He’s spent so much time trying to help organize his team around shutting Ilya down. It’s an entirely new, thrilling problem to figure out where Ilya will shine the brightest for them. “He should play with Marly, at least for now. But I don’t think Coach will put both the ex-Boston guys on one line.”

J.J. makes a sound of disgust. “That’s stupid.”

“Yeah,” Shane agrees.

“You think he can play with Hayden?” J.J. watches them on the ice.

Shane shrugs. “I think they can make do during practice but I wouldn’t trust it for a game.”

“Too bad I’m defense. Can’t help you, capitaine.” He skates away.

Shane thinks about what he would do. Not what their coach is suggesting. He thinks about the All-Star game next week and how that was supposed to be the first time he and Ilya played on the same team.

Now people will see them playing there together, but the scrutiny will be so much more intense since it sets the tone for the rest of the season.

Shane lets out a breath and goes to talk to their coach to suggest playing Ilya as his wing for practice until All-Stars.

It’s only when he’s saying it in Ilya’s earshot and sees the way Ilya’s eyebrows raise in interest that he really understands what he’s doing.

Ilya’s lips curl up at the corner and Shane thinks about kissing them.

He averts his eyes again, but when he glances back Ilya’s still staring at him expectantly.

Shane shrugs. “It’s just part of the mental game. I want the other teams to be scared of us after. If we don’t play well together, we’ll be a joke.”

Ilya laughs. “It’s just All-Star game, Hollander. It is a joke.”

Shane frowns. “Remember what I said about you being on my team now?”

The words sound more intense than what he’d say to other players and a couple of them overhear him.

He forgets for a second that that conversation was in private, that this implies that he and Ilya have been talking or fighting off the ice.

Ilya skates closer to him. “Yes, Hollander. I heard you about our team. I will skate hard for you, score you goals. Is what you want?”

To anyone else, it’s a taunt.

To Shane, it’s thinly veiled foreplay. “Score me a goal, then.” He says it with a challenge in his eyes.

Ilya licks his lips.

The entire team thinks they’re about to drop gloves.

It’s only Cliff Marleau whose jaw is on the floor.

They run a play with Shane as center and Ilya as one of his wings.

The passes are like lightning and suddenly the puck’s in the back of the net.

Shane stares at the puck, then lets his eyes drift to Ilya.

Ilya raises his eyebrows at Shane.

Shane nods once. His expression is neutral but all he can think about is pushing Ilya into the wall right now.

The Metros are reminded immediately that Shane and Ilya are on a different level than the rest of them.

J.J. whispers to Hayden. “We’re going to win the cup.”

Hayden whispers back. “If they don’t kill each other on the way there.”

Cliff can’t believe no one else is seeing what he’s seeing.

★ ★ ★

Naked in bed later that night, Shane’s hands cover his face. “This is insane.”

Ilya kisses down his chest. “It’s like a dream, Hollander. Playing with you. Fuck.”

“And Cliff knows?”

“I think maybe if he didn’t know I was bi, but yeah. He’s not stupid.”

Shane drops his hands and stares at Ilya, can’t really believe he’s here. With no curfew. No time limit. “What are we doing?”

“Fucking.”

“Rozan–” Shane stops himself and tries again. “Ilya.”

Ilya freezes. Suddenly it’s a few months ago and they’re in Boston and Shane is walking away and Ilya isn’t brave enough to say what Shane needs to hear. Isn’t brave enough to say this is real.

And now they’re in Montreal. And Shane is brave. “I don’t know how it would work, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t want this.”

Ilya needs to hear it. “Want what?”

Shane’s lips curl into a soft smile. “You.”

Ilya’s fingers slide through Shane’s hair as he kisses him. “This is very stupid.”

“I don’t care,” Shane says breathily. “Do you? Do you want…”

“Yes.” Ilya kisses him between words. “Yes, but… Shane…” 

Shane whimpers at his name in Ilya’s voice.

Ilya pulls away, breathing deeply. And he tells Shane everything. About his family, about Russia, about citizenship.

Shane holds him and he cries about everything he’s lost and everything he’s been too scared of losing to let himself gain.

★ ★ ★

It's when they're in bed in the hotel after winning the All-Star game that Ilya thinks about it again. “Remember when you were obsessed with roleplaying like we don't know each other?”

Shane's still a little unfocused from his orgasm. “What? Yeah, I mean. We're still doing that.”

“Hm.” Ilya says in the way that Shane knows means he has more to say.

“What.”

Ilya shrugs, tugging Shane’s head onto his chest. “What if we got to do it all again? Fall for each other on the same team. None of the rivalry or long distance.”

Shane's thoughts snag on fall for each other but he doesn't push. “It'd probably be worse. Hiding all the time, not just when we're in the same city.”

Ilya pulls away, leveling a look at him. “So now it is worse?”

“That's not what I meant.” Shane kisses his jaw.

Ilya prods, “What if the team thinks I have a crush on you?”

“The team does think that,” Shane says, pressing lazy kisses down Ilya’s neck.

“No, Shane. For real. What if we give ourselves a second chance, what if we get to see what it would’ve been like if it was easier?”

Shane lifts his head and looks at Ilya, brows furrowed. “We’re already–”

“When we’re with the team,” Ilya can tell Shane isn’t following. “We’ve never fucked. You don’t know I’m bi, or, I don’t know. Maybe you can tell. We’ve never kissed.”

Shane starts to follow. “And then we… start having crushes? And flirt, where people can see?”

“Mm,” Ilya agrees, studying Shane’s reaction.

He expects Shane to panic, to tell him they can’t.

But Shane’s thinking about it.

Finally, he says, “It’d be a good way to test the water. See how people react. If they’re mean about it–”

“I would keep doing it, even if they’re mean.”

Shane’s lips twitch up. “Yeah?”

“Mm, yeah.” Ilya says and he knows he looks besotted. He doesn’t care anymore. 

“Okay.” Shane says resolutely.

Ilya startles. He didn’t think it would be this easy to convince him. “Okay?”

Shane nods. “If things start to get weird, we can slow down. Check in. Rethink it if we need to. But… yeah. Not when we’re alone though, right? When we’re alone, we can still–”

“Yes, we can still.” Ilya says, capturing Shane’s lips with his own.

Shane melts into him and once again feels himself almost say it.

But he doesn’t want this to happen in a hotel room.

★ ★ ★

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are.” Cliff nudges Ilya at their first practice back from the All-Star game.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Marly.” Ilya says dryly.

“You stare at him all the time.”

“He’s the captain.”

“I don’t stare at him.”

“You should.”

“What if I did, would that make you jealous?”

“No. It would mean you have really good taste.”

Cliff rolls his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

★ ★ ★

Hayden and J.J. corner Shane out at dinner one night.

J.J. broaches the topic first, “You’ve gotten real buddy, buddy with Rozanov.”

Shane leans back in his chair and lets out a heavy sigh. “Isn’t that a good thing? We’re half way through the season and had a fucking wrench thrown into our team chemistry. Isn’t it good that he’s not actually a piece of shit to his teammates?”

Hayden frowns, “I think he’s playing nice for now and we’ll see his true colors later.”

Shane bites back a more intense response. He’s not supposed to know Ilya as well as he does. “That’s really pessimistic, man.”

“I don’t trust him,” Hayden says apologetically. “I wish I could.”

“You have to on the ice.” Shane says seriously. “That’s all I ask. You have to find a way to trust him when we’re out there together.”

Hayden shrugs unconvincingly. “I’ll try.”

And Shane realizes, as cheesy as it is, they need some team bonding time.

He frowns. “I need to host a barbeque, don’t I?”

J.J. perks up. “Oh, fuck yes, capitaine. I knew you were a genius. We have beers. We get along.”

Shane almost says that Ilya is good at the NHL game but stops himself. He shouldn’t know that. “Day after the game.” Shane says instead, “If we win.”

Hayden’s lips finally curl into a smile. “You really know how to motivate us.”

★ ★ ★

Historically, Shane doesn’t have people over his place very often.

Almost never.

He actually kind of hates it.

But there’s something about the team dynamic lately. As complicated as the trades have been, Shane feels more potential with this group than he ever has before and a lot of it, oddly enough, feels like it’s coming from their personalities blending.

He can’t imagine their coaches did that on purpose, but it’s a side effect he’s more than happy to contend with.

So it felt easier–not easy–to offer up his private space for a social hang.

And maybe it’s partly because he’s been eased into it with Ilya being here lately, in his real home.

The team mostly crowds around the TV playing Xbox. Cliff is out back grilling because he insisted on it as an American so Shane let him take over with a smirk. Hayden keeps asking if anyone else wants another beer and popping them open and handing them to people.

Shane finds himself hovering on the periphery of all of it. He had to ask Hayden and J.J. for beer recs, food recs, and J.J. hadn’t even let Shane think about the music. He just showed up with a Bluetooth speaker and a playlist.

Even off the ice, they make a good team. And he doesn’t know how to feel about that. Hockey has never been this for him. Hockey has always been, pun not intended, cold. But he looks around the room and he feels warm.

Ilya approaches him under the guise of grabbing a beer from the fridge, “Doing okay, Hollander?”

Shane nods, not trusting himself to speak. He wants more than anything to take comfort in Ilya right now but they can’t.

Ilya nods back, holding his new beer and standing awkwardly beside Shane. “It’s a nice space. Custom?”

Shane shoots him a confused look and then remembers the game. He relaxes into it. “Oh. Yeah. I’ve doing a lot of construction on it so I have, uh, a separate place that I’ve been crashing in a lot while the work was finished but I think it came together well.”

Ilya snorts. “Mr. Real Estate.” He shoots Shane a look that surely must break a nonexistent rule of their game.

Shane blushes. “I know it’s a weird hobby, but it’s kind of fun. Watching a project come together.”

“They have video games for that, you know. Like, um, Sims. You can build houses.”

Shane can’t fight back his smile. “Really? Maybe I should get into that.”

“Nooo,” Ilya says immediately. “You would be obsessed. You would forget about hockey.”

“How do you know that about me?” Shane teases, breaking some rules himself.

Ilya lifts an eyebrow. “You are very predictable, Hollander. Very tidy, very–what’s the word–precise, yes? You are very precise.” He pauses. “Passionate.”

Shane swallows. “You are too.” He responds. “Passionate.”

Real confusion enters Ilya’s eyes. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” Shane says without a second of doubt.

Ilya considers that. “Maybe.”

“Rozanov.” Shane says seriously. “You don’t get to be on our level without being passionate. I don’t care what else led you here.” He knows, of course. Knows about Ilya’s family. “You don’t make it this far without giving a shit.”

J.J. whistles as he approaches them. “You said something self-deprecating, huh? Capitaine has to talk some sense into you?”

Ilya withdraws into himself a little. “Self what?”

“You insulted yourself?” J.J. clarifies.

Ilya shrugs.

J.J. hums. “Hollander will never let you get away with it. He is always ready with, eh, they’re not even compliments really. He will just overwhelm you with every good stat you’ve ever had until you can’t feel bad about yourself ever again.”

Ilya’s eyes slide to Shane’s. “Really? He does this for everyone?”

J.J. nods, “He is not the most poetic captain of all time, but we don’t need him to be.”

Ilya lets that sit for a second before asking, “And does he do it for himself?”

Shane’s eyes widen slightly.

J.J. catches Shane’s shock and laughs loudly. “Oh, man. Wow, Hollander. He got you there. After all this time, you’ve got Rozanov looking after you now, huh?”

Shane’s teeth clench shut. “Something like that.”

Ilya winks at him.

Shane tries to think what this would feel like if they were actually starting over, if this was brand new.

It would probably feel a lot like the day of the draft in the hotel gym.

Ilya nods to the back door. “I’m going to see if Marly needs anything.”

Shane averts his eyes.

J.J. keeps staring at him. “Wow, Hollander. He stunned you into silence.”

Shane opens his mouth, closes it. “He’s just not what I expected. It’s surprising.”

J.J. hums, “I keep trying to convince Hayden he’s nice but Hayden thinks it’s a long con or something. He’s paranoid, man.”

Shane laughs softly. “I’m the last person people would expect to say this, but Rozanov’s a good guy. He’s good for the team.”

“I agree,” J.J. says happily. “Oh, I’m glad I’m not the only one who likes him. I know Marly likes him but they knew each other in Boston. The old school Metros keep trying to ice him out.”

Shane surveys the room, trying to see if he can tell if anyone is avoiding Ilya. The people huddled around the TV seem happy not to acknowledge him.

He decides not to do anything about it tonight, but he keeps it in mind. “And you’ve been good?” Shane asks instead.

J.J. sighs. “The breakup was months ago, man. I’m fine.”

Shane shoots him a look.

With a roll of his eyes, J.J. finally reaches into the fridge for another beer. “I’m getting there.”

Shane bumps their shoulders together. “We’re here for you, man.”

“Thanks, capitaine.”

Shane glances out the sliding glass doors and sees Ilya staring at him.

Ilya’s eyes slide down his body and then back up.

Shane’s entire body heats up but then Ilya looks away.

Testing the waters.

He did this back then too, didn’t he? Kept dropping hints, seeing how Shane reacted.

How was it so obvious to Ilya that Shane wanted him? How does no one else notice?

As things wind down, Ilya is one of the first to get up and leave.

People file out slowly, then more quickly as Hayden and J.J. help to pressure people to leave and Shane has never been more grateful for them.

Once everyone is gone, Shane calls Ilya. “They’re gone.”

“On my way.”

★ ★ ★

★ ★ ★

They’re in a hotel banquet hall for a team lunch during an away game and Hayden, Cliff, and J.J. find themselves at a table together.

J.J. leans in, whispering conspiratorially. “I think Hollander and Rozanov are soulmates.”

Cliff chokes on his sandwich.

J.J. is quick to explain himself. “Not like, dating. But like… they have so much in common, right? Now that Rozanov is nice.”

Cliff takes the easiest thing in that sentence to respond to. “Roz has always been nice, just not to Montreal.”

Hayden shoots him a look.

Cliff relents. “I mean, sure, he can be a dick but it’s how he shows he cares. Being assholes to each other is how Roz and I became friends.”

“Exactly,” J.J. says. “And Hollander and Rozanov have spent years being assholes to each other.”

Hayden snorts. “That’s different.”

J.J. starts his list, “They are both on a pillar. Untouchable kind of talent. Set against each other for years. We’ve all seen them play together. It’s like they read each other’s minds. And they barely even talk. So bam. Soulmates. Teammate soulmates.”

Hayden rolls his eyes. “You said it yourself, man. They barely talk.”

J.J. gestures across the room.

Shane and Ilya are both hovering by the buffet, grabbing food and talking out of earshot of anyone else.

And Hayden… has never seen Shane smile like that.

Ilya leans in and whispers something to him and Shane’s smile somehow gets softer.

Shane steps away from him and shakes it off, schooling his expression. Then he looks up and spots Hayden.

J.J. blinks. “That was… something.”

Cliff glances at Hayden and J.J. and says absolutely nothing.

Hayden’s brow is furrowed while Shane sits down beside him. 

“Hey, guys.”

Hayden doesn’t start with a greeting, “What did Rozanov just say to you?”

Shane clears his throat. “Uh, that we’re gonna win tonight. And we are.”

Cliff, Hayden, and J.J. all share looks.

Shane catches it. “What?”

J.J. nudges, “What did he actually say?”

Shane’s eyes slide to Cliff.

Cliff presses his lips together.

Shane looks down at his food. “Nothing, I don’t know. He said I look better in blue than him.”

Five minutes ago Hayden would’ve assumed that it was a dig against Montreal, but after seeing the way Shane blushed he’s not so sure anymore. He writes it off as his imagination. That can’t have been what he thought it was.

★ ★ ★

The next day they’re in a new city. Their manager shuffles their room assignments at the new hotel and draws names from a hat so it’s totally random. In previous seasons, Shane would disagree with these tactics for team building lately. It’s likely to throw people off with their routines and mess with superstitions. But this year… somehow, he thinks it’s helping. No one else has complained either which speaks volumes.

Ilya’s name gets drawn and there’s a moment of weird tension.

Shane scans the room to see who is still being weird about Ilya and makes mental notes about it. He’s so focused he almost doesn’t hear his own name being called.

His eyebrows shoot up.

Ilya smirks at him. “Hi, roomie.”

Oh. This is bad.

The team had sent them off with jokes about which of them will be alive in the morning.

Ilya and Shane shuffle awkwardly into their hotel room and the moment the door is closed, Shane is on him.

Ilya catches his hips. “And here I thought you were going to lecture me.”

“No sex, I mean, like no… fucking but… we have to be so fucking quiet, Ilya. Olsson and Berkes are right next door.”

Ilya looks offended. “I can be quiet. No problem. You’re the one who can’t be quiet.”

“Fuck you, I can be quiet.”

Ilya raises his eyebrows.

Shane blushes. “No fucking.”

“Yes, I heard you. Get on your knees.”

The good thing about a room with two beds is they can mess one up and then sleep in the other one.

They curl together and Shane almost likes this part better than sex. “I think Hayden and J.J. saw you flirting with me at lunch yesterday.”

“Good,” Ilya says easily. “That’s the point, right? To start over again where people can see it.”

Shane thinks about it before he says anything. “It felt… I don’t know. Scary but exhilarating. I told them what you said. I didn’t even lie.”

Ilya grins. “Oh yeah? You’re telling your friends about your crush? What did they say about me?”

“They all got kind of awkward and changed the topic.”

Ilya blows a raspberry. “Boring.”

Shane folds his arms on Ilya's chest and looks at him. “Do you tell your friends about me?”

Ilya hums. “Cliff knows but I am acting like nothing is happening so I don’t think he knows it’s serious. I think he thinks it’s just a crush. I mean, he knows when I’m gone for the night but I don’t know if he actually thinks you’re the one I’m out fucking.”

“It’s serious, huh?” Shane loves when Ilya admits that.

“Of course, it is.” He brushes his fingers through Shane’s hair delicately.

Shane’s smug. “It’s fun. Like, it’s stupid that we’re doing this. Treating it like a game. But it’s really fun to just have a crush on you. See how our friends react.”

“Did I tell you I loved this part? At the beginning. Figuring out how to fluster you. Figuring out what was too much and made you shut down or what made your eyes light up. I loved learning how to seduce you.”

“You got really good at it.” Shane says with faux ire.

Ilya smiles, grabbing Shane’s hand to kiss his palm. “You think so?”

“You know you are.”

Ilya runs his hands down Shane’s bare back and grabs his ass. “Shame I can’t fuck you.”

Shane rolls his eyes, getting up to turn off the lamp. “You’re a real charmer, Rozanov.”

“You love it, Hollander.”

There’s a moment before the light turns off where Ilya had said You love– and Shane’s eyes had gone wide. And then he hit the switch.

It’s silent for a moment as Shane slowly lies back down, settling into the warmth of Ilya’s body.

They don’t talk anymore.

★ ★ ★

They’re down 1-4 to Minnesota in the 3rd period with twelve minutes on the clock and their coach makes a gut decision. “New line: Hollander center, Marleau right wing, Rozanov left wing. Score some fucking goals.”

Shane and Ilya get on the ice together for the first time as teammates in an MHL game and the arena erupts.

They barely hear it.

Shane wrests the puck from the Minnesota center and whips it to Ilya as he repositions.

Marleau is already where he needs to be like magic.

They keep possession as they encroach on the opposing goal.

Ilya takes the puck behind the net and rockets it through the legs of a defender right to Shane as he skates in to one touch it.

The puck is in the net.

For a moment, Shane is furious it’s not on home ice and they don’t get a buzzer to celebrate with but it’s their first professional goal together and Ilya is slamming him into the glass speaking incomprehensibly fast Russian. When Shane asks him to translate later, he answers honestly that he said, “You are so fucking beautiful, I knew you’d be there. I didn’t even see you. I just knew you’d be there if I sent the puck there.”

Shane had expected something more crass but he’s not actually surprised. That’s how he felt about it too.

They know each other on and off the ice. They trust each other on and off the ice.

They switch off and when their line returns to the ice, they score another one. 

Then another one.

With 2 minutes left, Minnesota is getting pissed at the change in momentum and it shows.

Shane doesn’t know what the fuck Ilya is saying during this face off but he can tell it’s nothing good.

The puck drops and they battle for it and then out of nowhere, the Minnesota player drops gloves.

Ilya scraps with him, but he looks actually angry. Not the cocky look he usually gets after successfully goading someone into a penalty.

Shane doesn’t ask. It doesn’t matter right now.

What does matter is that they get to play with a man advantage for the entire rest of the period.

It takes a while for Shane to get it out of him, but Ilya eventually admits that the guy kept asking him what it was like to have “Hollander holding your leash” and when it got too annoying Ilya had said, “If you’re jealous, I can give you his number.”

The game ends with a hat trick for Shane, one goal for Cliff, and the game winning goal for Ilya. 

All anyone in the hockey world can talk about for the next two weeks is how terrifying it must be to be on the ice against Hollander and Rozanov.

Shane spends the next two weeks reminding people they couldn't have done it without Marleau.

Ilya spends the next two weeks telling him to shut the fuck up and enjoy it.

The team goes out to celebrate after and Shane actually drinks.

It catches Ilya totally by surprise to see Shane accept a cocktail without hesitation.

This is their last away game before they head back, sure, but it’s still unusual.

Ilya loses track of him for a bit, but when he finds him again there’s a different glass in his hand and it’s almost empty.

Ilya tries to keep eyes on him after that.

Olsson notices. “Dude, why are you in guard dog mode with Hollander. He’s an adult. He can drink if he wants.”

Ilya averts his gaze. “I’ve never seen him drunk. It’s interesting.”

Olsson laughs. “Oh shit. You should’ve seen him when we won the cup. He gets like this after a win sometimes. If he’s really feeling good. I guess playing with you makes him act like he won a cup. It was scary, man. You two on the ice together. Boston’s probably shaking in their fucking boots getting ready to come face us in Montreal next week.”

Ilya has too many emotions about all of that so he just nods.

He watches as Shane says something to J.J. then J.J.’s eyes snap to Ilya across the room. He loudly says, “You’re drunk, man!”

Ilya has to know what’s happening over there. “He looks like he needs another drink, yeah?” He holds up a glass of water as he walks over to Shane.

Olsson laughs, shaking his head as he leans over to someone else. “Didn’t take Rozanov as a worrier.”

The other guy says, “He used to be his team’s captain. Maybe old habits die hard.”

Sure. That's what it is.

Ilya presses the water into Shane’s hand as he takes the empty cocktail glass away from him and places it on a table to be bussed.

“Water’s so good!” Shane says brightly.

J.J. can’t quite look Ilya in the eye.

Ilya looks between the two of them. “Everything good here?” He’s a little too worried about drunk Shane to play their game right now.

J.J. nods nervously. “He’s just been saying some insane shit.”

“Like what?” Ilya asks, lips quirked.

“Nothing worth repeating!” J.J. tries to help.

But Shane’s too far gone. “That I’m obsessed with your eyes after you score. Never saw it on TV and was too mad when it was against me to notice.”

Ilya studies J.J.’s reaction for a moment. “Oh really? What else, Hollander?”

J.J. makes a fuss out of separating them before Shane can say anything else. “My client will not speak without a lawyer.”

“You are his lawyer then, he can speak.” Ilya says smugly, sipping his drink.

J.J. tries to find Hayden. “Let me deal with him while he’s being weird. Don’t worry about it.”

Ilya is decidedly quite sober but he enjoys chaos. “When you are on the bench, Hollander. Tracking the play. Your eyes are gorgeous too.”

J.J.’s dumbstruck.

Ilya walks away.

Shane tries to follow him but J.J. snaps out of it and stops him.

★ ★ ★

J.J. and Hayden spend the entire flight back to Montreal hiding their phones so they can text about it.

Boiziau: shane’s been weird, right?

Pike: YES

Pike: Did you just notice???

Boiziau: i mean, no. i just thought it was sweet that he was working so hard to make sure the team accepted rozanov but… its… 

Pike: Is Shane gay?? How did we not know that Shane’s gay?

Boiziau: we don’t know that!!!

Pike: He’s obsessed with Rozanov’s eyes after he scores????

Boiziau: who among us hasnt said gay shit about our teammates while drunk after a win!!!!

Pike: You’re the one calling them soulmates or whatever

Boiziau: yes, hockey soulmates! i didn’t think they were… compatible

Pike: And Rozanov has been weird too?

Boiziau: by weird do you mean nice to each other

Pike: It’s little more than what i’d define as just “nice”

Boiziau: rozanov kissed him on the cheek day one. it’s just posturing, no? theyre messing with each other

Pike: Yeah, probably. I mean Shane’s just a weird guy sometimes and he’s obsessed with hockey. How is it surprising that he’s a little obsessed with Rozanov if they’re both as stupid good at hockey as each other

Boiziau: that is such a good point you’re so right. we’re reading into it. shane loves hockey. he’s fixated on rozanov.

Pike: Yeah.

They almost believe it.

★ ★ ★

They’re back in Montreal, prepping to settle into a media room to study their away games.

All the players are raiding the snack table to claim whatever they can before they sit down.

Some of the guys are talking about Olsson’s new girlfriend.

Berkes whistles. “She’s a fucking rocket.”

Ilya rolls his eyes, but he catches a glimpse of the phone screen and, well, yeah. They’re not wrong.

Berkes catches him looking. “Hot, right?”

Ilya shrugs. “Not my type.”

Shane sits up a little straighter on the other side of the room. He’s pretending not to listen but it’s a small room.

Olsson practically wheezes. “Not your type? Dude, she’s everyone’s type.”

Berkes agrees, “What the hell is your type then?”

Ilya humors them. “Dark hair. I don’t really go for blondes. Skinny is fine but I prefer muscles, more athletic in bed, you know?”

Shane doesn’t mean to laugh. It forces its way out of him as he drops his head into his hands.

Olsson is high fiving Ilya when Shane’s lack of volume control makes everyone turn to look at him.

At the silence, Shane sits up and startles at the attention. “What?”

J.J. and Hayden are already sitting in the back of the room, watching all of this with jaws dropped.

“What’s your type, captain? You used to take home blondes, right? Before this mysterious Boston Lily?”

Ilya raises a very interested eyebrow in Shane’s direction.

Shane clears his throat. “I don’t think I really have a type.”

The whole room boos him.

J.J. stirs the pot, “What color is Lily’s hair?”

It takes every ounce of willpower he has for Shane not to look at Ilya. “...blonde.”

The room erupts in friendly jeering.

Their coaches walk in. “I don’t wanna know. Everyone shut up and sit down.”

Ilya finally catches Shane’s eye across the room and winks at him.

Shane ignores him.

★ ★ ★

Ilya had found his own place, but he and Cliff co-host a team dinner at Cliff’s to watch Boston play Vancouver so they could spend the entire night telling the team all of Boston’s secrets and each player’s tells.

It turns into a kind of comedy routine.

Shane knows some of this already from years of trading notes with Ilya, but a lot of it is more in depth stuff that they wouldn’t have dared spill to their opponent before now. 

He watches the room. His list of people to keep an eye on for Ilya’s sake has gotten smaller and smaller.

There are only a couple of hold outs now and he can see them actively warming to Ilya tonight.

It’s right as Shane is feeling weirdly platonically proud of Ilya as his teammate that he hears Ilya say, “And their new captain isn’t half as sexy as ours.”

Shane turns to look at Ilya, shocked and confused. “Thank you?” The entire team seems thrown.

Ilya shrugs. “Is objectively true, Hollander. Not a compliment. We don’t need your ego getting bigger. Their new captain is ugly is all I mean.”

Shane looks at Hayden.

Hayden looks baffled.

Ilya carries on like everything he’s said is totally normal. “Maybe one day we have sexier captain, but who knows where we can find someone like that.” He runs a hand through his hair dramatically and the entire team cracks up.

Nothing makes straight boys laugh more than an invitation to laugh it off right after you make them question their sexuality.

Ilya can’t help himself. “Hollander, you agree, yes?”

Shane rolls his eyes. “Well, the question isn’t better captain so sure, Roz. You’d be a sexier captain.” It’s the kind of thing he’d usually never feel confident enough to joke about. It doesn’t mean anything and he didn’t say it like he was flirting, but it still feels like a huge risk.

Ilya celebrates like he scored a goal. “Finally, the rivalry is dead. I won.”

Shane rolls his eyes. “I need another beer.”

Hayden hands him one immediately like he was waiting for the request.

★ ★ ★

Lily: you canadians work fast

Jane: What is this about

Lily: [photo attached]

Jane: …is that… are you a canadian citizen????

Lily: they even gave me a little flag lol

Shane thinks back to holding Ilya in his arms, listening to all the reasons why them being together was a risk. And Ilya admitted it was a risk he was willing to take.

Shane calls him. 

“Hello, fellow Canadian.” Ilya answers with this worst Canadian accent.

Shane doesn’t even laugh. He’s focused on the fact that– “You can’t be deported,” he says breathily.

“No. I’m, um, I’m safe, Shane.” Ilya’s voice is wet with emotion.

Shane grabs his keys. “I’m coming over.”

Ilya’s lying in bed with the stupid little flag they gave him that he’s actually way too emotional about. “Okay.” There are tears in his eyes. “I was thinking, um, and I wanted to tell you. I want to come out to the team. As bi.”

Shane’s phone is connecting to his car. “Really? Already?”

Ilya nods even though Shane can’t see him. “It’s too late. I would’ve done it sooner. I mean, I’ve dropped hints. But they might think I’m just one of those straight guys who jokes about it or whatever. I want them to know my type is strong, hockey players with freckles.”

Shane laughs. “Well that’s not the definition of bisexual last time I checked but maybe there’s a label for that.”

“Canadian-sexual.”

“Nope.”

“Hollander-sexual.”

“Don’t bring my family into this.”

“Boring-sexual.”

Shane huffs with a smile, “You know, that sounds right.”

They listen to each other breathe over the phone until Shane parks in Ilya’s driveway and hangs up.

They meet at the door.

As soon as the door is closed, they’re kissing.

When they finally pull away, a tear slips down Ilya’s cheek. “I love you.”

Shane’s face lights up. “I love you too.”

They don’t even have sex. They just lie in bed and kiss and talk for hours.

★ ★ ★

Shane spent the entire morning of the day Ilya wanted to come out to the team trying to decide how he should react to hearing that Ilya is bisexual.

If they were flirting back and forth all this time, he’d have figured that out already, right? But if he acts like he knew already, the jig is up.

Surprised and hopeful, is what he lands on.

The announcement makes some of the people who had come around to Ilya back off again. It’s disappointing, but they both expected some pushback. Especially until some of the surprise of it wore off.

Shane doesn’t know where Ilya finds the strength. So many of the guys start being weird about the locker room and Ilya just jokes. “I am hottest guy here. You all look at me. I promise it’s not worth looking at you.”

Which earns him a snort from Shane and a sly smile in return from Ilya.

Hayden, J.J., and Cliff all clock this.

★ ★ ★

Boiziau: CODE RED

Marleau: i’ve known roz is bi for years

Boiziau: AND YOU DIDNT TELL US?

Marleau: think about that for a second

Boiziau: okay no i’m so sorry you’re right. youre a really good friend

Boiziau: hayden???

Pike: Is Rozanov the first guy to come out in the MHL ever??? Did he just…make history???

Marleau: shit, maybe. i mean theres no way to know for sure if people are good at keeping secrets

Boiziau: and we all looked at shanes reaction, yes? shy and excited??? gay??????????? 

Pike: Shane’s a good guy! Of course he’s like awkward but supportive. We still can’t know if he’s gay

Boiziau: it’s not bad if he is, hayden

Pike: That’s not what I mean! I’m just saying how could we know that based on his reaction

Boiziau: ughhhhhh i mean i guess you’re right but the vibes are gay

Marleau: pike, you have to admit that the vibes are gay

Pike: Fine, the vibes are a little gay

Boiziau: 🏳️‍🌈

★ ★ ★

Montreal clinches playoffs and the flirting ramps up.

During games, they’re serious. They don’t slip at all. On the bench, on the ice, they’re teammates. They both know what it takes to win the cup and this time they get to do it for each other, with each other. Ilya has never loved hockey more than when he’s on the ice with Shane during playoffs.

They start sitting next to each other on planes and at team dinners.

Hayden had given Shane a look the first time it happened. Shane had stoically shrugged it off. By the third time, Hayden sat in a different seat and sent off a text.

Hayden: So he’s your best friend now?

Shane: No it’s still you. I mean it’s Rose. But on the team it’s you

Hayden: Does anyone ever tell you you’re an asshole sometimes

Shane: Not really! 😇

Hayden: So are you two like strategizing or something? Talking about hockey in a way mere mortals couldn’t possibly understand?

Shane: The entire team is incredible. Rozanov and I aren’t that special

Hayden: Shane you don’t have to be humble about this

Shane: It’s nice that he understands

Hayden: Is that all it is?

Shane: What do you mean?

Hayden: I don’t mean anything. Just if there’s something you want to tell me you can tell me. I’d accept it

There’s a long pause where Hayden thinks maybe Shane won’t respond. Then he finally gets another text.

Shane: Do you wanna come over for dinner when we’re back in Montreal?

Hayden lets Shane go through the motions. They talk about other games this week, the scoring race, even about some prospects in the minor leagues that might move up next season.

There’s a game on tonight so they turn it on and when it cuts to an ad break for the first intermission, Shane mutes the TV. “You were right. That I need to tell you something.” He keeps his eyes on the TV.

Hayden had talked to Jackie about how to handle this, how to be the best friend he can be for Shane. She told him to give Shane the space to speak, to say what he needs. So Hayden nods and says nothing.

Shane’s eyes flick to Hayden, brows furrowed. “I don’t know how to, um… I’ve never really told anyone before.” He sighs, closing his eyes for a moment.

He opens his eyes and turns on the couch to square his shoulders with Hayden, determination in his eyes as he says, “I’m gay.”

Hayden feels his lips curl up in the corner. “Okay.”

Shane blinks, caught off guard by the lack of reaction. “Oh. Um, okay. Cool.”

Hayden hesitates. “Sorry, do I need to say more? That’s totally fine, man.”

Shane stammers. “You knew?”

Hayden grimaces. “You’ve been… dropping hints. I guess not on purpose.”

Shane sighs but there’s laughter in it. “The hints were kind of on purpose but I couldn’t tell how obvious it was.”

The curiosity gets the better of him and Hayden has to ask, “Is there maybe someone that you… god, I sound like a teenager. I don’t know. It kind of seems like you have a crush?”

Shane’s cheeks flush red.

Holy shit.

This is real.

Shane nods once. “Um. Yeah. I guess I do have a crush.”

Hayden tries to stay quiet again, but he can feel his eyebrows raising slowly the longer Shane doesn’t elaborate.

Shane laughs and leans back against the couch. “I guess you know about that already too, huh?”

Hayden handles this delicately. “You’ve been different since he was traded here, man. You’re more relaxed, more confident. I mean, the tension when he first got here was crazy. I really thought you two were going to kill each other. But it turned into… whatever it is now. You trust each other. It shows.”

Shane covers his face with his hands. “Is it really that obvious?”

“Maybe to me, Marly, and J.J. I don’t think the other guys know you as well as we do. But… you’re not subtle.”

And this is the part that Shane gets to have fun with. This is the game he and Ilya designed for themselves. If it feels too much like lying, he’ll come clean to Hayden and J.J. but for now he wants to have this. He wants to know what it would’ve been like to have this. He keeps his face covered and asks, “Do you think he likes me too?”

Hayden’s scandalized. “Dude. Are you kidding me?”

Shane drops his hands to see Hayden’s expression. “What?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s obsessed with you.”

Shane’s shaking his head. “No, that’s just how he is. He flirts with everyone.”

They pause for a second and acknowledge how true that is. Even before he came out as bi, he told everyone that they look good in their game day suits. He notices when people bulk up. He whistles appreciatively when they show him pictures of the girls they’re seeing. He chats up the bartender at every single bar they’ve been to.

Shane adds on, “And he’s extremely good at hockey. He just respects me. Like you said, he trusts me. It’s hard to tell if it’s…”

Hayden can’t take this. “I’ve seen him check you out. I’ve seen him flirt with you and you get all blushy. What are you waiting for?”

Shane makes a distressed sound. “It’s the playoffs! I’m not risking anything changing in the middle of the fucking playoffs.”

Hayden lets out a breath. “Okay, that’s fair. Besides, Rozanov will probably make the first move, right?”

Shane’s lips curl into a wry smile. “Yeah, probably.”

“Are you going to tell J.J. and Marly?”

Shane waves his hand back and forth. “I’ll probably tell J.J. but, uh, I mean, Marly is Ilya’s best friend.”

Hayden raises his eyebrows. “Ilya?”

Shane turns a furious shade of red. “Rozanov. Whatever.”

“Oh, you’re down bad.”

“Shut up, I call you by your first name.”

“Yeah after 5 years of playing together. Not 5 weeks.”

Shane unmutes the game as the ad break ends.

Hayden laughs as Shane tries to change the topic. “Wow, I’ve never gotten to tease you about a crush before. This is crazy.”

“I think Ottawa could win this one.” Shane says blandly.

Hayden ignores that. “So what was it that made you change your mind about him? Was it the hockey? You said you’re into blondes, is it just looks?”

Shane keeps his eyes tracking the puck on the TV but nervously says. “I don’t know, all of it.”

Hayden whistles. “If you’d have told me I’d be hearing you say this 2 months ago, I’d have told you to start concussion protocols.”

Shane smirks. “I’m surprised too.”

“But you’re happy, right?”

Shane nods, making eye contact with Hayden. “Yeah. I’m happy.”

Hayden punches his shoulder. “That’s all that matters, man.”

★ ★ ★

★ ★ ★

Their 7 game playoff series against Toronto ends at game 4. Four straight victories.

Shane and Ilya have been sleeping at each other’s places so often that it’s become a challenge of its own to not show up together to the rink for morning practices.

Their first practice after winning the quarter-finals, the guys kind of linger in the locker room before leaving.

They’re all hyped up on the energy of the wins and they want to ride the high as much as they can.

Shane sits on the bench and just watches his team socialize.

Cliff and J.J. are fighting about stick tape.

Hayden’s lobbing compliments at their goalie nonstop.

And Ilya’s the bright center of a cluster of players. Shane’s thrilled to see some of the skeptical guys with him, smiling at him.

Turns out being really fucking good at hockey can sometimes overpower homophobia. Shane thinks about some players who got traded away and how they probably wouldn’t have been so easily convinced.

They got lucky.

Ilya’s eyes find Shane’s across the locker room, “But, of course, how could I score all those sexy goals without our sexy captain?”

Shane sighs but can’t help smiling. “I’m leading you with points.”

Ilya waves him off, “No one cares about points, they care about goals. And who is leading the league with goals? Hollander, you know stats. Can you tell me who is leading goals?”

Shane shakes his head, lips quirked up. “You.”

Cliff chimes in. “I’m catching up!”

Hayden snorts. “It’s really a race for 3rd. We should disqualify Roz and Hollzy. It’s not fair.”

Ilya’s unbothered. “You could just be better, Pike. Have you tried that?”

“Oh, fuck off.” But he’s smiling.

Ilya crosses the room to Shane, smiling down at him.

Shane smiles up at him. 

It’s hard to remember to play the game when he’s thinking about being in Ilya’s bed last night, hearing the Russian words for I love you whispered into his skin. “Everyone keeps calling us generational talents, dynamic duo. Unstoppable pair. We are better together than as rivals.” 

Everyone in the room pretends to not be listening in, but the silence gives them away.

Shane stands up and they’re eye to eye. “Boston was so fucking stupid to let you go.”

Lightning crackles in Ilya’s eyes. “Even after all the wins I got them, they still fucked up too much to make playoffs. Embarrassing for them.”

Shane lets Ilya rile him up. “We’ll just have to embarrass Minnesota like we embarrassed Toronto. Who the fuck can keep up with us?”

Ilya grabs the back of Shane’s neck and pulls their foreheads together, “Fucking no one, beautiful.” He says the last word in Russian.

Shane doesn’t even notice as he mirrors the position. He’s so used to the word whispered into his skin that he forgets it’s a different language.

Someone whistles from the corner, a teasing lilt to their voice, “Get a room.”

Shane startles, pulling away from Ilya.

All it does is spur on the teasing. The cat calls start coming from everyone.

“Is that the secret to good line chemistry?”

“We should make them roommates more often.”

“Boston Lily who?”

Shane’s face gets redder by the second.

Ilya watches his expression, fascinated.

Shane looks into Ilya’s eyes.

Ilya raises his eyebrows at Shane.

It’s weird.

It’s weird to be teased… positively.

The team is joking. Shane knows that they’re joking.

But they also know Ilya is bisexual.

Shane can’t think of a single word to say.

Game or no game, he’s stumped.

Ilya takes pity on him.

Only in as much as he breaks the silence but he does so by choosing violence.

Ilya winks at Shane and says, “You have my number, captain.”

The room erupts. A couple of the guys scream, “No sex during playoffs!”

Shane mumbles a weak, “Fuck off,” but barely anyone hears it.

As soon as he gets home, he checks his phone to see a text in his group chat with J.J. and Hayden.

Hayden: “Do you think he likes me?”

Shane: Shut up

Hayden: “He flirts with everyone!!!”

Shane: I know!!!

J.J.: if i didn’t know any better i would think you two have hooked up already

Shane: It’s the playoffs!!!!

Hayden: Shane. I get that lots of us are superstitious about sex during the playoffs but I don’t think that includes intense makeout sessions. Just a suggestion. A recommendation even. From me and Jackie

Shane: Oh my god don’t bring Jackie into this

Hayden: Jackie has BEEN in this

J.J.: if you don’t kiss the man who has been scoring our game winning goals for weeks, i will. someone needs to. i will do it if no one else will

Shane: This is crazy

Hayden: Imagine how I feel!!! I’m actively encouraging you to kiss Ilya fucking Rozanov right now. Because you have a CRUSH on him and your chemistry is INSANE and you somehow think the only guy on our entire team brave enough to step into your personal space in the locker room doesn’t like you back

J.J.: oh be more specific, hayden. rozanov is the only person that shane ALLOWS into his personal space in the locker room and rozanov KNOWS IT

Shane: Please tell me you’re joking and I’m not actually this obviously desperate in front of the guys

Hayden: I WISH I COULD, MAN

Shane: Fuck

Shane: Okay. Maybe I do need to do something about this during playoffs. So it’s not like… distracting people

J.J.: shane please do not kiss a boy because you are worried about distracting your hockey team. you like him, no? it’s not just that you think he’s hot or whatever. you like him?

Shane: Yeah, I like him

J.J.: kiss him because you like him. not because of hockey

Shane stares at his phone as Ilya walks up behind him, arms wrapping around his middle as he kisses Shane’s jaw and reads over his shoulder.

“How does it feel?” Ilya asks between soft kisses. “Knowing that your friends like me?”

Shane relaxes into Ilya’s arms. “Incredible. Hard to believe but…yeah, incredible.”

Shane puts his phone away and spins in Ilya’s arms. “I like you.”

Ilya smirks. “Oh yeah? That’s why you let me stand close to you in the locker room?”

Shane nods.

“Why you told me your door code so I can let myself into your most private space whenever I want?” 

Shane nods again.

“Why you let me fuck you within an inch of your life when we assist each other’s goals?”

Shane smirks, “Which happens nearly every game now. At least once if not more.”

Ilya moans, kissing him hard. “I want every other MHL team to hate us. I want them to be sick of us celebrating goals in each other’s arms. I want to be in their fucking nightmares, Shane.”

Shane pushes Ilya towards the bedroom. “I think I can make that happen.”

When they recover enough from extremely pressing afternoon post-practice sex, Ilya heads to the living room to turn on game analysis for Minnesota’s first round of playoffs.

Fuck, Shane loves him. He takes a picture of Ilya in his living room watching hockey on his TV.

“Can I tell Hayden and J.J. that I invited you over for dinner?”

Ilya looks over his shoulder at Shane. “What, like a date?”

Shane nods.

For a moment, Ilya looks like he did in the back alley at the Prospect Cup in 2008. There’s a boyish kind of joy in his eyes as he says, “Of course, love.”

Shane: [photo attached]

Shane: So I invited him over for dinner

J.J.: HELLO

J.J.: AND DID YOU KISS YET?????

Hayden: Fuck, you act fact, Hollander

Shane sits on the couch beside him and shows Ilya the texts.

Ilya immediately steals Shane’s phone and opens the camera, turning it to selfie mode before leaning over and kissing Shane.

Shane: [photo attached]

Shane: i’m open to letting you kiss me, boiziau. but you will need to ask for shane’s permission first

J.J.: YOU SHOWED HIM OUR TEXTS????

Hayden: 1. This is a deep betrayal of the bro code 2. FUCK, YOU ACT FAST, HOLLANDER

Hayden: ALSO. Did he call you Shane???????

Shane: Please don’t tell the rest of the team yet! Let us do that

J.J.: your secret is safe with me, hockey gods on my team that also kiss each other now

Ilya snorts at the text, “We should probably tell Marly.”

Shane hums. “I’ll leave that to you. You deserve this too.”

Ilya smiles stupidly. “I will tell him same thing. Hold on, go into the kitchen like you’re making dinner.”

Shane frowns. “I thought we were ordering in.”

Ilya shrugs. “Okay, so go pace behind the couch like you are ordering food on the phone with a takeout menu.”

Shane rolls his eyes and pulls a menu out of a drawer, pretending to be on the phone so Ilya can snap a picture.

Ilya: [photo attached]

Ilya: he invited me over for dinner

Cliff: FINALLY

Cliff: and have you made it clear that you want this to be a not platonic dinner???

Ilya sends himself the selfie from Shane’s phone.

Ilya: [photo attached]

Ilya: very clear

Cliff: WE’RE GONNA WIN THE FUCKING CUP

Ilya wheezes and shows Shane his phone.

Shane’s smile nears on manic. “All our friends are just as insane about hockey as we are.”

Ilya tsks, “No one is as insane about hockey as you, Shane.”

Shane straddles him on the couch to kiss him.

Ilya grabs the menu from him, “Are we actually ordering?”

Shane collapses on the couch next to him. “You do it.”

Ilya laughs softly and does as he’s told.

★ ★ ★

Epilogue

★ ★ ★

Ilya and Shane spend the entirety of the semi-finals in each other’s personal space as much as possible.

It only gets worse for the finals.

They don’t kiss in front of the whole team or anything, but rumors are flying.

When they have team dinners, they catch Ilya’s hand on the small of Shane’s back.

When they’re on buses or planes, Ilya and Shane fall asleep on each other’s shoulders.

When they go out for drinks, Ilya goes to the bar and gets two drinks and hands one to Shane without asking for his order.

When they win the cup, everyone gets sprayed with champagne as press and their social team capture footage of the celebration but the moment the locker room clears and it’s just the team showering off and getting ready to head out for days if not weeks of celebration, Ilya and Shane run into each other’s arms.

They kiss like they were starving for it and in a lot of ways they were.

The room erupts in cheers.

Shane and Ilya never imagined this, didn’t dare to imagine this. The best they could picture was a world where they disclosed their relationship as an unexpected shock to their teams. But their team (singular) watched this happen. Their team watched them fall for each other, watched them flirt, watched them grow closer. So it wasn’t a surprise to see them kiss. It’s what their team has been rooting for.

They already decided they’d tell Hayden, J.J., and Cliff the real story later but for today they break the news of their relationship to their cup winning team. 

Today, everybody wins.

★ ★ ★

THE END

★ ★ ★

End Notes

i kept thinking about how to get scott in here but i fear the fic would have to be like 7k longer to make that happen. but know that in the canon of this canon divergence, they DO all go to the kingfisher together often when montreal plays in new york

thanks for reading!