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Not Rated

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No Archive Warnings Apply

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M/M

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Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander & Hayden Pike, Shane Hollander & Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau, David Hollander & Shane Hollander & Yuna Hollander & Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander & Rose Landry, Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau & Ilya Rozanov, Jean-Jacques Boiziau | J. J. Dagenais & Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau, Hayden Pike, Yuna Hollander, David Hollander, Jean-Jacques Boiziau | J. J. Dagenais, Rose Landry, Svetlana Vetrova

Additional Tags:

Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Good Friend Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau, Good Friend Jean-Jacques Boiziau | J. J. Dagenais, Good Friend Rose Landry, Bad Friend Hayden Pike, Momager Yuna Hollander, helicopter parenting, Complicated Parental Relationships, Secret Relationship, Secret Wedding, Established Relationship, Relationship Reveal, Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov Relationship Timeline Reveal, Protective Shane Hollander, this just in: straight white man faces the consequences of his actions, Ilya and JJ friendship, lets fix that plz, make it a tag i'm begging, bros being bros

Language:

English

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Subscriptions:Tracking, RainyBugs_Hollanov_Yay!, Fics LunaK does not want to lose track of, My Close and Personal Friends Shane and Ilya, AHRFC, Hockey Boyfriends, Works to reread

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Published: 2026-05-20 Completed: 2026-06-30 Words: 49,106 Chapters: 18/18

this is why we can't have nice things

Summary

Remember when Hayden Pike punches Ilya after Shane said not to, right before the announcement of the Irina Foundation? Remember that that was the second time Hayden laid his hands on Ilya in the first month of knowing him?

Or, Shane gets rightfully fed up after the first month of Hayden's behavior towards Ilya. Punching Ilya was the final straw, so he tells Hayden to pretend he never found out. It sets off a chain of events landing him, happily, in Ottawa a year earlier and with a better support system for both him and Ilya.

Notes

the voices got me again and i'm on a roll. anyway i remembered this happened and got pissed off until there were 20k words and counting.
(also, yes, this is the third thing i've posted this morning. shut up <3)

Chapter 1: take an ax to a mended fence

Chapter Notes

November 2018

Shane made it to the parking lot before he whirled on Hayden, “I told you not to punch him,” he says, voice tight with anger. 

“Ugh,” Hayden groans, “and I said I wouldn’t if he wasn't a dick.”

“No, you punched him because you wanted to. We have a fucking press conference tomorrow Hayden.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Maybe it has to do with the fact that I don’t want my best friend fighting my boyfriend for no reason. I told you not to punch him, twice. It was the end of the game, no reason to drop gloves, and we have a press conference tomorrow.”

“Come on Shane, it’s not a big deal.”

BAM 

The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoes in the parking lot. Hayden reels back, “What the fuck, man?”

“Its not a big deal,” Shane’s mocking voice is almost worse than the sneer he wanted to level at his friend. He knows this behavior will surprise Hayden, and would surprise most people who think they know him. While it’s not wildly out of character, it is unusual for Shane to not only reach his limit, but act out because of it. But when it’s about Ilya, he’s always done the unexpected, and he’s reached his fucking limit with Hayden. He’s used to people giving him crap, but he won’t let people talk shit about his boyfriend, especially not his best friend, who’s done nothing but shit on Ilya since he found out. He tried to let it go that first dinner, he was stressed, and he knew his friend needed to adjust to the information and learn who Ilya was to Shane, off the ice. But it’s been a goddamn month and Hayden has shown no signs of coming around. 

“What the fuck?”

“You were being a dick,” Shane repeats Hayden's words back to him, still mockingly. He’s pissed. He should care that he just punched his best friend. He should care that he punched the one person who could ruin his life. But instead he’s just tired and angry.

“Oh, come on.” Hayden is still nursing his eye, glaring at Shane in betrayal.

“No, Hayden. I'm sick of it. Stop treating my boyfriend like some kind of disease I caught. Fuck this,” Shane hisses, “Fuck it all, go back to not knowing Hayden. I'd prefer that. If this is so fucking difficult for you, then fine, you don’t know anything. We can just pretend you never found out, ok?” He gets in his car without waiting for an answer. 

Shane does send a text when he gets home, before he goes inside, where Ilya is waiting for him.

Shane: Don't come to the conference tomorrow. If I see you, I’ll probably punch you again.

He turns his phone off without waiting for Hayden's response and climbs out of the car. He finds Ilya on the couch, already changed into sweats and shirtless, icing his eye.

“How's your face?” Shane asks, setting his own stuff down and standing where Ilya can see him. If he sits down, he’ll stand right back up again. Energy is buzzing in his veins and it’s overwhelming.

“Fine,” Ilya waves the ice pack to prove he's taking care of it. Shane nods at him, crossing his arms and chewing on his words for a minute. 

“I punched Hayden,” he confesses to his boyfriend. Ilya looks surprised and a little turned on.

“What? Why?”

“I told him to leave you alone, twice,” he emphasises, “then he said he still couldn’t believe you were my you know.”

“I know what? That I’m your boyfriend? Yes, Hollander, I do,” Ilya teases. Shane huffs, finally sitting on the edge of the couch, ignoring Ilya’s pout that he’s too far away.

“Apparently, Hayden doesn't. He said just that, you’re my you know. And not like he was trying to be discreet because we were on the ice. It’s not the first time, he acts like calling you my boyfriend would infect him or something.”

“Stupid thought from Montreal’s 15th best player, all his brain went through his dick and became a hundred children.”

“Probably,” agrees Shane. Ilya raises an eyebrow at him, the other still covered in an ice pack. “I’m pissed at him.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Shane’s voice pitches high in that special way that Ilya only hears when he’s done something he should know how to do, but fucked it up anyway. “Why, Ilya? Are you serious? He’s been nothing but disrespectful to you and by extension, me. He laid his hands on you today, Ilya, and it’s not the first time.”

Now he’s wearing his angry kitten face, except it’s more angry and less kitten. Ilya reaches his hand out for Shane to take, which he does, without moving more than one couch square over so he’s still too far away for Ilya’s liking.

“Moy lyubov, what are you talking about?”

“He hit you,” seethes his boyfriend, eyes now narrowed at the air in front of him. “I told him to drop it and he did it anyway. At the end of the game, for no reason except he hates you. I know you didn’t say anything to deserve it. On top of it all, we have a press conference tomorrow. He hit you, Ilya.”

“Shane, I know, I was there. Is not a big deal.”

“Yes it is. Fuck, have you really not noticed? You call him the 15th best player, he calls you a cheating slut.”

Ilya’s eyes go wide, jaw dropping, “Moy lyubov, I think I would know if he said that.”

“He did, at the cottage, that first time we had dinner, remember? He shoved you and threw your past in your face, told you you couldn’t possibly love me because you’re not ‘all the way gay,’ and said explicitly, several times, that you don’t deserve me. He wouldn’t stop. The whole night I had to listen to him. We could talk about what Shane sees in you? I bet he was drunk. What are you going to do when you break up? What’s your game? He thinks you don’t care about me, or that you’re doing this for fun like there are only consequences for me. The consequences are worse for you! He also forgets constantly that I’ve known you longer. Fuck!”

Shane stands and walks away. Ilya lets him go, a little stunned. He remembers Pike’s words. They’d hurt, but not as much as they’d clearly affected Shane. It was all stuff he expected to hear, and was willing to give grace to his boyfriend’s best friend. Having it laid out like that really sold the point home that today had been Shane’s final straw with his best friend.

“If it was just dinner and after that he made an effort to get to know you, the real you, the you I know, then maybe it wouldn’t matter as much. Maybe I could move on, but I can’t. I can’t, Ilya. I was so excited to have someone who knew, who I didn’t have to lie to. Instead, he just keeps talking. And to wrap it up! He was upset that I didn’t tell him. You could have told me, Shane. Clearly not! Clearly, I can’t tell you. First, there was nothing to tell, then you think I owe you my secrets because your my friend, fuck you. It hurts, he said. You should have told me, he said. Fuck that.”

“Shane,” Ilya says slowly, putting down the ice pack (Shane could yell at him later for the water on the couch), and standing. He approaches his boyfriend like he would a wild animal, “Shane, I need you to breathe. In and out, please. Good, thank you.”

“Sorry,” he says, letting his head fall onto Ilya’s shoulder. 

“No sorry, solnyshko,” comforts Ilya, stroking his hands down Shane’s back. “Yes, maybe it hurts a little, but I do not believe him. Is fine, Shane, I promise.”

“No, it’s not,” comes Shane’s muffled voice. “I hate it. I hate it so much and I can’t do very much about it. It scares me sometimes too,” he confesses, “that he knows and doesn’t like you. I’m scared of what he could do with our secrets. I don’t even know if it’s just my anxiety telling me that if I don’t placate Hayden, he’ll decide he hates you more than he likes me, or if that’s something I actually need to be worried about. I was hoping it would go well so that you could tell one of your friends, like Svetlana or Marlow or something, but now, I’m just terrified that the only place we’ll feel safe is when we’re alone.”

Ilya squeezes his boyfriend harder, staying silent. Truthfully, the thought of telling someone back in Boston about them rarely crossed his mind. It would be nice to tell people, he wanted to shout from the rooftops that Shane was his, but he knew why he couldn’t. Not only were their jobs on the line, but Ilya’s job was directly tied to his physical safety, something Shane took–pun intended–deathly seriously. But apparently, Shane still wanted Ilya to have support beyond him and his parents (and that came with its own baggage, for both of them). Shane wanted him to have his own best friend that knew, like Shane had the Pikes. He might not like Pike, but he was Shane’s friend, so he made an effort to get along with him. It was, admittedly, difficult to do when all Pike wanted was to take shots at him. Ilya wished he’d noticed how much of a toll it was taking on his boyfriend. Shane’s extreme peacekeeping tendencies suddenly made way more sense.

“Ok, Shane, ok,” he says, finally. “I’m sorry I didn’t see how much it hurt you.”

That’s the wrong thing to say, because Shane rears back suddenly, “The fuck? No, Ilya, fuck. Yes, it hurts me, but that’s because he’s saying awful things about you.”

“Ok, yes, but it still hurt you and I didn’t see. I will not chirp him in future, ok. Nothing to say then,” he shrugs. Shane’s angry face isn’t going away, fuck.

“He does it behind your back too. He says things like that to my face. Like the fact he can’t call you my boyfriend, just my you know. Or,” Shane lets out a humorless laugh, “how about our last day off that lined up, I was so excited to see you and he asked why I wasn’t coming to dinner. When I told him I was seeing you, he rolled his eyes and said ‘come on, Shane, you don’t have to spend all your time with him.’ I don’t see you for three hundred days of the year, he gets to see Jackie almost everyday. He gets to see me almost everyday. So, no, Ilya, you won’t chirp him again, unless it’s on the ice, because you’re not seeing him again.”

What? “What?”

Shane sighs, folding himself back into Ilya’s arms, “I told him to forget that he ever found out about you and we could just go back to before. I told him not to come tomorrow. My priority is you, so Hayden’s going to have to get used to reduced Shane time. Which is ridiculous, because like I said, he sees me almost everyday. If I can’t see him without you, I won’t see him as much.”

“Shane, you don’t have to do that–”

“Too bad, I am. It’ll be the same as your last year in Boston. We see each other as much as possible, except we pretend Hayden doesn’t know anymore, so anytime we’d go over as a couple, we will just have to spend together, alone.”

“Are you sure, Shane?” Ilya didn’t want his boyfriend to regret this. Regret possibly losing his best friend because of Ilya. Unfortunately, knowing someone intimately for a decade means they can read your mind.

“I’m not going to regret this, Ilya. He made his choice, so until he apologizes and wants to actually try, this is my choice.” He squeezes Ilya tighter, “Do you regret leaving Boston for me?”

“No,” he says immediately, “no, I don’t.”

“Good, I’m trusting that’s true. So trust me, please?”

“Ok, Shane.”

—

Shane does exactly what he promised. He doesn't bring up Ilya to Hayden, not outside relevant ‘yeah we’re friends, we did start a charity together, yes.’ context. Hayden, to his credit, doesn't try and force him into talking about it. Which he appreciates and hates in equal measure. On the one hand, Shane doesn't have to listen to Hayden complain about how much of an asshole Ilya is or how Shane could do better if he just gave it a try and JJ’s got so many options that would be better or watch Hayden's face scrunch while trying not to react because he’s trying to hide the disgust on his face when Shane talks about his boyfriend. 

He hates it because of how easily Hayden steps back into it. Back into ‘I know nothing.’ Shane hates it. He hates that it doesn't feel like he's losing something. He thought not having a safe space in the Pikes and their home would hurt, or be more obvious. But instead he feels relief. Relief that he doesn't have to pretend anymore. Because Shane realizes sometime in the weeks following the punch and the press conference, he was pretending. A different kind of pretending, but pretending. Yes, Ilya was his boyfriend when under the Pike’s roof. Yes, Hayden had graciously invited him into their home. But there was always an unspoken caveat that while they were invited, while they didn’t have to hide, per se, there also couldn't be evidence of their relationship. Hayden's face would get a crease when Ilya slung an arm around Shane's shoulders for movie night. Or the way Hayden couldn't find it in himself to even fake enthusiasm for Shane when it had been a month since the last time he’d seen Ilya and Hayden gets to see both him and his wife almost everyday. Shane already isn’t in a normal relationship, no matter what he wants, so can't he just have this one normal thing? But no, his best friend can't even do that without making it a production of how much he dislikes the situation. 

He hates the relief he feels when he doesn't have to brace for impact when Ilya is present, either in conversation or in person. He doesn't expect Ilya to stand down, not all the way at least; chirping is his love language, and he recognizes the effort Ilya is putting in. But Hayden is the one who can't let it go and it's exhausting. Hayden is the one exacerbating the problem and it’s unfair to Ilya to keep expecting him to be the one course-correcting. 

So yeah, he’s angry. He's pissed, even, at Hayden and his bullshit. 

The only, only, thing Hayden complains about now is how little Shane goes over anymore. This is the only time Shane allows himself to address the Ilya in the room. When Hayden invites him for dinner, or a movie, or asks him if he wants to babysit so Jackie and him can go out, he just says, it's date night, and leaves it at that. Hayden complains, to Shane, to Jackie, but he does, gratefully, keep Ilya’s name out of his mouth.

Chapter End Notes

i mean this in the nicest way possible, i find it so funny when i get comments about how much yall like my hayden pike and how realistic he feels without leaning cartoonish or going into that space that sometimes happens when bashing characters. here's my thought about that:
of course???? duh??? i'm using canon examples of his behavior. i'm not making things up (usually, but I do try and get in his head a little when i canon-diverge). The only difference is that i'm forcing him to face social consequences where in the books or in fanfics he usually is let off the hook. im not letting the people around him be overly tolerant of his behavior and i'm removing the rose colored glasses. so you're viewing his canon behavior (and whatever situations i apply it to) as both real and deserving of not being ignored and excused. i'm not shitting on him just to shit on him. I said once "(grits teeth) no one understands hayden pike like i do (derogatory)(clenches fist)" and i meant it. i can get in that man's head and it's not a good thing except when i can accurately bash his head in for you all! i love our little community here.

same with jj, i get comments(i love all of them) about how people who usually dislike him like the way i write him and him as a good friend. same thing, we don't know much about jj, but as a fandom we tend to villainize him for the singular question he asks, "did you? did you trip?". it stands out to shane because until then, no one dared question his hockey. he's used to (or expects) questions about ilya, but not about hockey. but jj's question comes from a place of deep hurt that he was left out and not trusted when they're supposed to be a trio of friends. it's a knee-jerk reaction that i do think he regrets and i think he has so much more potential. he's the most supportive when it comes to shane being gay, even more than hayden. JJ is someone who i think shane should be closer to, with them both being minorities in an extremely intolerant locker room. anyway, i see his potential. this is ramble-y, but does that make sense? i'll come update if i figure out how to word it better.

anyway, love all of your comments, and some of them make me laugh. to my bestie who gets screenshots of those comments, if you find this, no you didn't. I'm still not telling you my ao3 username, go away. its all a coincidence.

Chapter 2: it's nice to have a friend

Chapter Notes

heyyyyyy... i forgot to post the last few paragraphs of chapter one, so maybe go reread that chapter if you're coming straight for the update bc... oops. it's not very much, just a few paragraphs that technically could have gone at the beginning here, but i wanted to start this chapter how i did, so... yeah. go do that and come back for ch 2. thanks.

December 2018

JJ notices too, the fracture between him and Hayden. Fracture is the right word, but it’s also more like their friendship has taken several steps back. So, when practice ends early one day, JJ drapes an arm over his shoulder and drags him to his car, telling Shane that they’re getting coffee and no, he can’t get out of it.

When they’re sitting in a relatively private booth in a corner of a bakery in downtown Montreal, he asks, "What's going on with you and Hayden?”

Shane huffs, leaning back in the booth and crossing his arms, “Have you asked him?”

“No,” JJ answers, “because you’re not an easy going person, but you are a forgiving one. So, if something's up between you two, it’s Hayden’s fault and you finally stopped giving a shit. Also, he’s not acting like either of you are at fault, so it’s his fault. If it was yours, I would have heard about it from him.”

Shane rolls his eyes, but nods an affirmative to JJ, “Yeah, I’m fucking pissed at him.”

“And you’re swearing,” JJ grimaces, “How bad is it?”

Shane contemplates for a minute, chewing on the inside of his cheek, “Hold on.” He pulls his phone out and starts typing. JJ tries to interrupt, but Shane cuts him off.

“What are you–”

“Shh.”

Jane: Do you think it's a good idea to tell JJ? Not about us, but that I'm in a relationship?

Jane: He just sat me down to ask what's wrong with me and Hayden.

Jane: I want to explain without outing us. I’m still scared because of how Hayden reacted.

Lily: What was JJ reaction to gay thing?

Jane: Good. He's been the best actually. He has a bunch of gay friends. Which I know because he keeps trying to set me up. 

Jane: He’s been better than Hayden actually.

Jane: At least he's not weird about me being in a gay relationship. Or potentially being in one.

Ilya takes a minute to respond.

Lily: If you trust him to keep secret, tell him about relationship. You are right, no details. Tell him your boyfriend is not out because it’s not safe. If he has gay friends he will understand.

Lily: You should do this anyway, so he stops setting you on dates.

“Shane?” JJ is still waiting, Shane looks up at him and turns his phone off to put it back in his pocket. JJ sits up straighter, realizing Shane is going to tell him.

“Hayden figured out I'm in a relationship about two months ago and doesn't like my boyfriend,” Shane recrosses his arms, staring down at the table so he only has to watch JJ’s reaction from his periphery.

“What? Shane, mon ami, boyfriend?” JJ reaches out across the table, but stops halfway, “What do you mean, boyfriend? Since when?”

“Yeah, that’s who I was texting, my boyfriend. I needed to get permission.”

“Permission?”

“To tell you. Not everything, he’s not out and I'm not going to out him. But yeah, I'm in a relationship. I have a boyfriend. And please keep your voice down,” Shane winces.

“Oh,” JJ breathes, “Why didn't you tell me?” He gasps all of a sudden, “What the fuck, wait. Sorry. I was going to ask why you told Hayden but not me, but what do you mean Hayden hates your boyfriend. He’s the only other person who’s as excited about getting you into a relationship.”

Shane sighs, “He figured it out and I'm a shit liar. Do not take that as permission to guess, please.” He sighs again, “Hayden hates him. Doesn't approve, can’t even call him my boyfriend, calls him my you know.”

“Your you know? That’s kinda fucked up, captaine,” JJ says. “Why does he hate him so much? You also haven’t told me how long you’ve been letting me try and get you a boyfriend while you already had one.”

“I don’t know at this point. I got the shock, I got the trepidation, but now? Fuck, is it mean if I say it feels homophobic? Or biphobic, actually? Because he hates my boyfriend but not me. Like, I know Hayden doesn’t hate gay people, doesn’t hate me, but sometimes he says or does stuff that hurts.”

“What about biphobia?”

“Ugh,” Shane groans, “Il- my boyfriend had to explain the difference, cause apparently, it’s different than just regular homophobic, but like, Hayden thinks he's not serious about me, or that he's going to cheat on me and hurt me, or realize life would be easier with a woman, that kind of thing. It’s specifically aimed at my bisexual boyfriend about his bisexuality. ”

“What. The. Fuck.”

“He's not even trying to get along with him. I'm not asking for much, just stop insulting the man I love to my face. And his!” It all came pouring out of him. The anger, the hurtful words, everything, “The first time they met, Hayden accused him of not being able to love me enough because he’s not ‘fully gay.’”

“That is fucked up,” JJ says. “So you got in a fight about it, that's why you two are being weird and not talking.”

“We are talking, that's the problem. I punched him, told him to just forget he ever knew and we could go back to before,” Shane drops his head into his hands, dragging them down his face.

“You gave him that black eye!? I thought he walked into a door!”

“That’s what he's telling everyone,” Shane grimaces. “I don’t feel like correcting him. Or, you know, can’t without inviting more questions about it. Which I don’t want.”

“Merde, captaine. You told him to forget he knew about your deepest darkest secret, and he did, so it’s weird now.”

“Yeah, that’s about it. He’s not going to ruin my life, that I can count on, probably. At least for now. I just– fuck, JJ, I hate that he just went back so easily, like I didn’t have to relock away a big important part of me, the most important part of me. JJ, he’s” he takes a deep breath, “he's more important to me than hockey. My boyfriend, I mean. He pre-dates my career. We met when we were seventeen and just scared, dumb kids who were attracted to each other and not allowed to be,” he waves a hand, swallowing back the words that would definitely out Ilya’s identity. JJ wasn’t stupid, "I've been in love with him the whole time, even back when I didn’t want to admit it or know what it was. We weren't always exclusive, and maybe that's where Hayden is struggling, but he doesn't understand what it took to get here. He’s never had to hide a relationship. Not even a relationship, fuck, it wasnt even that even though we wanted it to be, but we couldn’t talk about it without hurting ourselves and each other. We don't have any pictures together. None, JJ, because it’s not safe. He’s not out because he could be killed if his family found out. He’s been there for me longer than anyone, except my parents, and I hate hiding him and I hate that everyone's forcing us to,” Shane swallows back the lump that’s appeared in his throat and blinks back the moisture in his eyes. 

“Shit, captaine, that's… merde, can I hug you?” Shane nods and JJ stands to engulf him, “You know, I’m not mad that you didn't tell me anymore. Because that sounds awful as fuck and of course you couldn’t just tell me. I'm also mad at Hayden now for being a dick because it didn't help you feel safe to tell other people.”

“No, you're right. It probably didn't help. It probably scared me so bad, I talked my boyfriend out of telling his friends like an asshole.” JJ sits back on his side of the booth, looking curious.

“Shit,” he says, “Do you have an idea for how any of them would act?”

“There are two that I think would probably be ok, but…” Shane trails off, thinking of Marlow and Svetlana. “Hayden’s supposed to be my best friend, and if that’s how he reacted, how will his best friends react.”

“You’re still scared.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“I'm extra scared because it would be him getting hurt, not me. I would be hurt because he's hurt, you know? And I feel like it would be my fault for suggesting it.”

“No, but that's very romantic of you. Also, you need therapy.”

“You two would get along,” Shane huffs, sitting back again.

“Then maybe there's something to the idea, Hollander.”

Shane sighs, “Maybe.”

“Well, I’m also your best friend and I think Hayden’s reaction is stupid. I haven’t met this man yet, but I don’t think you could send me running for the hills at this point. I’m too invested in this decade-long love story and proving Hayden wrong,” JJ says, to Shane’s returning snort. “I want to circle back to your boyfriend could be killed if his family found out.”

“I can't get more specific without giving too much away, but he's an immigrant, from a super homophobic country. He doesn't have a Canadian passport yet. What?” he says at the look JJ is leveling at him. 

“You said you've been in love since you were 17?”

“Yes?”

“And you love this guy so much you're both risking not only your career, but his life?

“Yes, JJ,” says Shane, “We’re in love and risking everything, thank you.”

“You, Shane Hollander, anxious, neurotic–said with love–angry cat, planner extraordinaire, didn't immediately think of marrying this guy?” The disbelief drips from JJ’s voice.

Shane flushes. It’s not that he hadn't thought about it, it was, “We can't. Not yet, at least. That kinda goes against the whole ‘keeping it a secret’ thing.”

“Shane,” JJ’s voice is patient, “no it doesn't.”

“Yes, it does,” Shane retorts. “It would leave a paper trail, if anyone went looking.”

“No, Shane, I had to get my Canadian passport when I became a dual citizen. I've looked into all the options. I can't believe you haven't,” he explains patiently, like he’s going to spook Shane with this information. “Marriage licenses aren't public record in Canada, not fully, and you can have the information sealed for a good reason, like, I don’t know,” JJ pretends to consider his options, waving his hand around, “political asylum on the basis of discrimination? Also, you can just elope, why have a big wedding if there's only going to be five guests…”

“Five?” Shane asks, already warring with himself. 

“Me, your parents, and your boyfriend's mystery friends, keep up,” he rolls his eyes. “Also, if no one knows to go looking for it, why would anyone suspect? Then, boom, extra layer of security on top of a PR card, which I'm assuming he's working on,” he waits for Shane’s nod before continuing, “Awesome. So why not get married? Unless, it's like a thing, which, no judgement.”

Shane is stunned, listening to JJ’s plan. Not a plan, just several facts laid out for Shane like he’s an idiot. Which he might be. When Ilya had mentioned proposing on the dock with a million candles, he’d pictured it in the future, some nebulous time when they announce their retirement and post a tasteful statement about their small, private ceremony. Suddenly, Shane realizes it's the same ‘wedding’ fantasy he's been having since he was old enough to learn that when you're an adult, you get married. From back before he knew he was gay and assumed he would marry a woman. He’s never imagined getting married because he wanted to, even to Ilya, which is a crazy realization to have at three in the afternoon.

“I’ve never…” he’s never thought about it. Not seriously, didn’t try and incorporate it into the plan. Nothing with Ilya has been according to plan, that's the whole point, the whole basis of their relationship. So why should they have a normal wedding? They did their whole relationship in the wrong order anyway. If he’s being honest, the idea of Ilya being his husband feels right. It also makes him a little horny. The added layer of protection it would provide… “JJ, will you help me pick out a ring?”

Chapter End Notes

also, i know i'm posting an update about a different authors note from a different fic, but there's so much overlap with my readers, i'm going to do it here:
i asked if anyone would be interested in helping beta read a runaway au i'm working on. I got a lot of responses, and i'm super grateful! follow up: is anyone from Brazil? or South America? or could specifically give me a good rundown to help me write that part of the fic? who would be willing/able to answer some questions so i can accurately write them running away there? i've got a list of anthropological questions about it if anyone would like to message me on tumblr. You don't have to beta read, but I would appreciate being able to accurately write about small village in northeastern Brazil welcoming in hollanov. i appreciate you all regardless!

Chapter 3: paper (meteorite) rings

Chapter Notes

more!
and thank you to everyone answering my questions about living in South America! there's a block of questions in the comments of the last chapter if anyone else would like to answer, or i'm on tumblr under the same username: apageinthisbook. any headcanons yall have about hollanov if Brazil or Argentina or South America in general, tell me!
I love yall and the time you're taking to read/comment/kudos, seriously, yall are the best!

“I can't believe we’re doing this.”

“You wanted to help,” Shane shoots back at his friend. They’re walking down the street, in the direction of a jeweler JJ says a friend of his swears by.

“I do, I’m not complaining, I just didn't expect that this is how my day would go. I’m literally helping you pick out an engagement ring for a man I've never met, but you've been in a relationship with for a decade.” Shane shoots him a funny look, debating if he should tell JJ he has met Ilya. Fuck it.

“You have met him,” says Shane, not stopping when JJ freezes several paces back.

“What? What do you mean I've met him?”

“Just not as my boyfriend,” clarifies Shane.

“When? Where? Shane!” Shane laughs and takes off in a run towards the park at the end of the block. JJ’s longer legs eventually outpace him and he wrestles Shane into a noogie, which he pulls out of quickly.

“Fuck you.”

“Sorry, JJ. I couldn't resist.” Then his face softens, “I’ll tell you, I promise. I just need to actually have a conversation with him first.”

“I get it, no meeting the groom before the wedding,” JJ is pouting, but Shane takes his words at face value. “I’ve really met him?”

“Fuck off, yes. I should tell you that he did want me to tell you about our relationship. Mostly so you'd stop setting me up, he can be a jealous asshole.” Shane bites his lip, wondering if he said too much to his friend and he’d piece it together.

JJ raises an eyebrow, “Should I be worried?”

Shane relaxes, “About me? No, I like when he's a jealous asshole. Besides I've got about five years worth of his hookup exploits to also be a jealous asshole about. You though?” He wiggles his hand back and forth, “Maybe. Just know if he's actually insulting you, that means he likes you at least a little. He’ll never go below the belt, but he will insult your hockey skills.”

“Wow, ok. I have been pinning down your type all wrong, haven't I Hollander? No nice guys for you.” JJ frowns, “Five years of hookups?” Shane grimaces, which JJ notices, so he sits on the bench closest to him, gesturing for his friend to join him. Luckily, the park is mostly empty. Just a few kids off at the playground being supervised. No one can overhear them here.

“This is where I think I lost Hayden. I told you he’s bisexual, well, he’s kinda well known for the amount of pussy he gets. It’s not like he could be an equal opportunity whore without, you know, the whole ‘his country and family hate him and he wouldn’t be able to go home’ thing. Part of it was protecting himself, but also, JJ, he just really likes sex,” he explains. JJ barks with laughter, both when Shane said pussy and when he admitted his boyfriend likes sex. It’s the most uninhibited conversation they’ve ever had. Shane is still talking, “Oh, when you meet him, I promise you'll judge my taste in men, but yeah, I would hate someone just like me.”

“Can I be honest about something?” Shane nods, “It’s about Hayden.”

“What about Hayden?”

“I don’t understand how that man bagged Jackie.” JJ lowers his voice, “Like, I’ve heard him talk about his sex life and, like, I know kids aren’t like an indicator of good sex, but I’m also shocked he has four.” Shane bursts into laughter, “I’m serious, Shane! He wants to rag on a healthy sex life, but I know that man wouldn’t know excitement in the bedroom if it fucked him in the ass. No offense.”

“No, I know,” Shane takes a few steadying breaths to get his laughter under control, “Don’t tell Hayden I told you, but we gossip about it all the time. He loves to talk about him and Jackie, and I know Jackie doesn’t mind because she gets details about us. But it’s so boring, like, I was having more exciting sex when I was a teenager.”

“Hayden’s heard all about your probably freaky gay sex life and still thinks your boyfriend doesn’t love you? Current slut to reformed slut, I just know that your man has the skills in the bedroom.” Shane flushes again.

“Actually, he doesn’t. Know about our sex life, I mean. He gets squirmy when we hold hands and kiss in front of him, I think he’d faint if he knew I wasn't doing 15 minutes of missionary.”

“Hayden gets what when you hold hands?” He looks at Shane incredulously, “He doesn’t know? Now that’s homophobic, and I don’t think I’m being sarcastic.” 

“He just gets a little uncomfortable. He doesn't say anything, but I can see it on his face. I told you, he really doesn't like my boyfriend,” defends Shane. “That doesn’t make him homophobic.”

JJ throws his hands in the air, exasperated, “I have been waiting years for Shane sex life details. I know he was too. We’re just so damn curious, because you have a reputation for being… you. I mean, I knew, I knew! it couldn't be 15 minutes of missionary. Just because you don't talk, doesn't mean you don't know. I've seen your face when stuff gets brought up in the locker room, you have opinions. And your face when Drapeau’s girlfriend wanted to try anal for the first time? Priceless. In hindsight, it's because you're gay, but at the time I thought you were just kinky.” Shane grimaces again, both at JJ’s crude language and the memory of their goalie bitching about how his girl didn’t like it so he was in the doghouse. “Point is, if Hayden’s getting uncomfortable by the thought of you having gay sex, enough for you of all people to notice, then it’s not you, it’s him. If he’s getting squeamish about you holding hands with your boyfriend, I don’t think a different boyfriend’s gonna cut it. No matter how much he hates him. In fact, unless there’s a woman you could date that would get the same reaction, it’s just homophobia I think.”

“I don’t know, I think it’s just who I’m dating, not that I’m dating a guy.”

“Ok, tabling this discussion for later, we’ll just go in circles. So, mon ami, because I need to get to know this guy, and because it sounds like you need to brag about him, tell me about him, so I have a little bit of a picture.”

“What?” Shane asks.

“Listen, when I do meet Mr. Jealous Asshole, I need to know what you think so I can just remind myself that this is the guy Shane picked and for these reasons.”

“Ok, well…” he’s a little taken aback by JJ’s request. He never gets to just brag about Ilya. “He accommodates my routines. Like, I do yoga and he watches me like a pervert. We have breakfast together and he’ll make my smoothie while I’m on my run even though he says it's gross.”

“It is gross, Hollander.”

Shane laughs, “You two would get along.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I think you'd bond,” Shane says distractedly. “He installed dimming lights in his gym just for me, he can talk me out of a panic attack before it starts. His presence just calms me, like I don't have to worry about anything. I can turn my brain off. Even in public sometimes, I can just trust that he’ll get my attention, or move me around, like I don't have to do all the usual work to keep up with a conversation.”

JJ is stunned at how much Shane is talking. It's like the words have never been allowed to see the sun and it makes him sad. He stands, pulling his friend up with him, “Come on, let’s go pick out that engagement ring. It sounds like you need to keep him.”

—

Shane let JJ go in first, to draw the attention of the lady behind the counter. 

“Hello, my fair lady, do you know anything about hockey?” JJ lays the charm on thick, though it seems to have little effect on the woman.

“Not really, I don't watch sports, but if you’re asking if I recognize you, yes, I know who Shane Hollander is. If you're asking if I can be discreet about why you're here, the answer is also yes. It's none of my business except the business. My name is Mary, how can I help you gentleman?”

Shane blinked, barely processing her words. Luckily JJ does, “You have a lot of famous clients?”

“I wouldn't tell you,” she says, voice steel, and something about her makes Shane trust her. When he does look up and get a good look at who will be helping him, he inexplicably relaxes at her no-nonsense vibe. How he knows it’s a vibe? No clue, he blames Ilya. But he doesn’t have another explanation for why he feels like she’s… safe.

JJ winks, “Good on you. Shane?” He waits for a wide-eyed nod from his friend, “We’re looking for rings, men's size… Shane, what size?”

Shane furrows his brow, lifts his hand, examines his fingers, “Can you measure to tell me?”

“Yes, I can.” She pulls out a ring sizer. Shane presents his middle finger on his left hand and the ring on his right. 

“These two sizes,” Shane says, “gold rings, please. Something simple.”

“Of course.” While Mary measures, JJ looks around the room. Shane keeps his attention on his hands. 

“Gold?” JJ asks.

“It’ll match–” he glances at the woman and lowers his voice even more, “–his chain.”

To her credit, Mary doesn’t flinch, or even make any indication she heard what Shane said. His heart is beating wildly. He just nonchalantly came out to a complete stranger. A stranger who will probably figure out that he’s buying an engagement ring and it’s for a man. A hand lands on his shoulder. It’s not Ilya.

“Breathe, captain,” JJ whispers in his ear. “You’re ok. Nothing’s going to happen.”

When Mary returns with three trays of rings, she lays them out and casually says, “My wife likes these ones,” gesturing to the tray of thinner, but not delicate, rings, “They’re simpler in design, but not bulky. Perfect for anyone who isn’t very flashy or won’t be wearing it on their finger very often. These,” she gestures to the next tray, “are more discrete. Easy to get engraved for anything really, an award, a lover, or just because you’ve decided you like jewelry, but want to keep it simple.”

Shane relaxes again, breath evening out. She just, very causally, informed him of two things. One, she’s also gay, or bi, and two, she isn’t going to sell him out. He looks over the trays. He likes the thinner band with rounded edges. It won’t catch on anything and will be easy to pass off as anything but an engagement ring. Another catches his eye, similar to the first, but a little wider, with a band of some crystal embedded through the middle. JJ examines over his shoulder, providing his admittedly meager opinions. He doesn't know what Shane's mystery man likes, but he’s happy to help. 

Shane points down at that ring, “What’s in the middle, there?”

Mary finds the one he’s pointing to and pulls it out, resting it on her open palm, “Mediorite. This is the Romeo & Juliet gold. There’s a matching one, one moment.” She wanders to another display case and pulls out another ring, leaving the tray in place. She presents both rings to Shane, they’re identical except for the slight discrepancy in size. “Meteorites travel for millions of years through space. It’s used in wedding rings to symbolize eternal love and permanence.”

“Wow,” JJ breathes, “My grandmama called them ‘rocks from the heavens.’ She believed that they’re sent by spirits trying to reach out with divine intervention or a message. So, if you find one, it’s someone trying to reach you to tell you something. Mixed with the eternal love thing, I think the universe is trying to tell you something.” His shoulder nudges Shane’s.

Shane couldn’t tear his eyes from the rings. They weren’t the most discrete, but they were beautiful and he felt drawn to them. Eternal love and permanence. Someone’s trying to tell you something. Romeo & Juliet. He feels a tear leak unexpectedly out of his eye and he reaches up to wipe it away.

“Romeo and Juliet, that’s the one about the families that hate each other, right? And the kids kill themselves because they can’t be together?”

“Jesus Christ, Shane,” exclaims JJ, “What the fuck? No, well, yes, it’s two enemy families and their kids fall in love and make a plan to run away to be together, but it goes wrong and they both die. But, it’s like, one of the greatest love stories. It’s about choosing who you love over your shitty family. Everyone thinks it’s a warning about teenagers falling in love, but it’s actually a warning to everyone else about stifling people and trying to control love. It’s about not letting hate and anger blind you because you think you know what’s best.”

“You’re very passionate,” Mary says. 

JJ nods decisively, “Oui. Shane, you ok, mon ami?”

Shane looks at him, tearing his attention away from the rings and his spiraling thoughts about eternallovepermanenceIrinaistryingtotellmesomethingromeoandjulietteenagersrivalswedonthateeachotherpermanencerunawaytobetogether.

“Huh, oh, yeah, I’m ok.”

“You sure? You got a little emotional.”

“JJ, I’m ok, I promise.” He turns back to Mary, “I’ll take them, both. They’re the right sizes?”

Leaving with the rings packaged nicely in velvet boxes and a plain brown bag feels like a miracle. They didn’t have to special order them and JJ offered to pay so Shane’s name wasn’t attached to the order–there was an immediate wire transfer from his bank account to JJ’s when they left, perhaps a little extra as a thank you. 

JJ offers to stop for food, but Shane just tells him to drive him back to the rink so Shane can get his car, “I love you, JJ, but I’m done for the day.”

“Not a problem, mon ami. You’ve got a proposal to plan. But I’ve still got you trapped in my car for another thirty minutes, so how about you tell me what you really thought about Drapeau’s attempt at anal.” Shane’s face scrunches and JJ laughs at the disgusted look on his face, “That bad?”

“His girlfriend doesn't dislike anal, he's just bad at anal. Like, if it happened like he described, then that's on him. I feel bad for his girlfriend. If it’s done right, it should feel good, not that,” the last word is spit.

“See, that’s what I'm talking about,” says JJ. “You know a lot more than people think, you just never bring it up.”

“I spent a quarter of a century suppressing my sexuality while also hooking up with the hottest man on the planet for a decade. Emphasis on man. I wasn’t exactly going to talk about gay sex to a room full of homophobic hockey players.”

“So… Do you like anal?”

“Jesus Christ, JJ. I'm a gay man, yes, I like anal.”

Chapter End Notes

shane knows ilya's ring size and uses his own finger to get the right measurement. also, i wrote this whole thing then it occurred to me that the rings (which are real, look up romeo&juliet gold meteorite) are boston colors. i did not do that on purpose, but i'm keeping it. also, these are the same rings i use in pull your knife out of my back, yes, they were used here first and i copied myself.

i continue to spread my 'shane hollander's gaydar only works on lesbians' agenda.

also, yes, i do believe shane would gossip, but only w ilya. you tell one of them something, you've told both. even during hookup era(tm), they gossip about people in the league. jackie and ilya have really only known each other a month before this fic starts, but i do believe they remain texting besties who talk about their sex lives, which means shane hears about it from both ilya and hayden. hayden doesnt know how extra vanilla his sex life is, i do believe that. do you know how easy it is to accidentally have kids?

Chapter 4: 10 year anniversary

Chapter Notes

short chapter, but that's cause i liked the way it ended. back to long chapters tomorrow! (anyone excited for yuna/david, that's tomorrow)

Shane hides the rings in the one place Ilya will never find them unless he goes looking: nowhere. Shane stands in his kitchen scanning for a good hiding spot that won’t give it away. Behind food Ilya won’t touch is a no, because Ilya won’t eat it, but he will make Shane food. He rules out anywhere in the bedroom immediately, as well as in the couch cushions, any of their drawers, the bookshelf, his car, and narrowly avoids convincing himself to put a hole in the wall and patching it up. Ilya would notice the difference and ask Shane about it and Shane can’t lie to him.

Which leaves him standing in the bathroom, opening drawers and thinking. A lightbulb goes off in the back of his mind, it sounds gross, but it’s the opposite of unsanitary and he owns gloves, so he walks back to the kitchen. He returns with a zip-lock bag, durable and water proof, and tape. The velvet boxes go into it and the bag itself, sealed and taped extra-securely, goes in the cistern. Shane stands, hands on hips, staring at the back of the toilet before nodding decisively. It’ll have to do for now, which means Shane will need to propose soon.

—

Shane texts his parents a few days before their break in December, asking if he and Ilya can spend the holiday alone. He promises to bring Ilya for dinner one of the days, but he wants to be alone with his boyfriend for the few days they can spend together without interruption. His mom reluctantly agrees, only the promise of actually seeing them at some point persuades her. 

So, on December 23, 2018, exactly ten years after he shook Ilya Rozanov’s hand in a parking lot in Regina for the first and second times, Shane wakes up in their cottage earlier than usual, mind already on the two rings still hiding in the spare tire compartment in his car. He slips out of bed, smoothing Ilya’s curls with a quiet, “Bathroom, go back to sleep.”

He’s never had to sneak out of his cottage before, but he makes it outside with his keys and very little noise. The (new) plastic bag the rings are in stares up at him from under the carpet in the back seat. Sneaking them out of the bathroom, re-bagging them, and managing to hide the rings in the car had his heart pounding. The entire time, he was waiting for Ilya to catch him, or at least get suspicious. It was a minor miracle the rings, and Shane’s squirrely behavior, had gone unnoticed as long as they did. Shane takes them out, opening the boxes individually to check them, and puts both rings in the pockets of his sweats. Sneaking back inside is a little harder, but manages not to make anything echo or creak through the still house. Shane slips back into bed, leaving the velvet boxes on the bedside table for Ilya to eventually notice. His boyfriend pulls him sleepily back into his arms, nuzzling the top of his head and pressing a kiss there. Shane wiggles, but finds himself unable to move so he stops fighting and curls into Ilya’s body heat. 

Dull, morning light filters through the windows, re-waking Shane where he’s still happily trapped in Ilya’s arms. Ilya is awake, he can tell by his breathing, but keeping his head buried in Shane’s neck. He wiggles one arm free to play with Ilya’s hair, pulling gently on the individual curls and letting them bounce back. A rumble interrupts him.

“What?” A soft hum is his answer. “Ok, I had plans today, but if you want to keep sleeping…”

“What kind of plans?” comes Ilya’s muffled, sleep-rough voice.

“The kind where we don’t leave this room unless we have to.”

“Hmmm, really?”

“Mmhm, I was kinda hoping we could find a reason to celebrate. Or a few reasons.”

Ilya pushes himself up, “What celebration?”

“Do you know what today is, Ilya?” asks Shane instead, deciding to fly by the seat of his pants and see what happened.

“No? I am one who remembers anniversaries, malysh, I am not forgetting one.” The confusion on Ilya’s rumpled morning face is adorable and Shane can’t help but lean in and kiss him. 

“Really? You remember all the big important dates in our relationship? From the very beginning?” It’s a gamble on whether Ilya will catch on or if he can drag this out. It’s true that Ilya’s impeccable memory will recall any anniversary they could conceivably celebrate. He claims it's to make up for the years they couldn’t celebrate. Shane doesn’t mind, any reason to tell Ilya he loves him and get railed within an inch of his life is reason enough. 

Ilya squints down at him, trying to connect their brains so he can figure out what Shane is talking about, “What is today, Hollander?”

“Oh, last name,” teases Shane. “It’s been ten years since this one.”

The clue helps, because Ilya’s eyes clear and he sits up a little higher to hover over Shane, “2008?” Shane nods, a small smile on his face.

“It’s been exactly ten years since we met.” 

That’s as far as he gets because Ilya starts peppering his face with kisses, throwing in Russian endearments when he comes up for air. One of these times, he adjusts himself, inadvertently catching sight of the newest additions to Shane’s bedside table and it causes him to freeze. Shane doesn’t need to turn his head to know what caught Ilya’s eye. Instead, he keeps watching his boyfriend’s face to catalog his reaction.

Ilya sits all the way up until his knees are under him and on either side of Shane’s hips. Ilya looks down at him, eyes big and impossibly bluer under the gloss that’s coated them. Shane nods, and Ilya reaches over slowly to grab the black box. Shane grabs his wrist before he can do anything else. They’re staring at each other, frozen in the moment.

“Shane…”

“Ilya.” Ilya shakes his head, lips pressed together. Shane pushes himself up as much as he can, keeping his hand on Ilya to steady him. He’s not sure what is about to come out of his mouth, but he takes a deep breath and trusts that his boyfriend will understand, “Ilya, I think the first time I heard your name was when I was fifteen. They were talking about this Russian teenager who was supposed to be as good as me. Even back then it was a competition for everyone else, I think. Only one of us could be the best at hockey. I didn’t care, I just really wanted to meet you. I thought you were fascinating, even before I ever saw you in person. That’s why I came up and introduced myself. I think it was the single best decision I ever made. It’s been ten years since that day, Ilya, and while I have so many things I could regret, I will never, ever regret you. I would do all of it the same exact way if it’s how we get here. It’s terrifying. And dangerous. But every minute is worth it because I love you and you love me.” Shane takes Ilya’s empty hand and moves it to the top of the ring box, prompting him to open it. Then he says, in Russian, what he’s spent the last week practicing, “Ilyusha, ty zhenishsya na mne?”

Chapter End Notes

of course ilya says yes and they fuck all day about it.

Chapter 5: long engagement

Chapter Notes

hehehehehehehe
canonical (but embellished) lack of boundaries anyone???
(and remember, we're only in dec of 2018, ilya JUST moved to Ottawa)

Ilya drives them to David and Yuna’s cottage on Christmas, right hand laced with Shane’s. He wished their rings were touching, but Shane had gotten them with the idea of wearing them on the right. “It’s tradition,” he’d said, “and it’ll be easier to pass off if I get caught wearing it. If it’s not on my left hand, it’s not a wedding ring. Besides, it’ll be on a chain most of the time, if I’m not with you or at home.”

Shane was probably right and Ilya wasn’t going to argue with his fiance. The only warning Shane had given him was to be careful with press because the rings did match, so if they both got caught with them, it would be pretty hard to explain away. 

They pull into the driveway. Before they get out of the car, Ilya squeezes his fiance’s hand, prompting Shane to look at him. “They will be excited for us, yes?”

The uncertainty bleeds into his voice. Yuna and David like him, and have welcomed him with open arms. But he sometimes wonders if there will be a limit to how much Shane and Ilya’s relationship can happen without them being aware of it. During one of the dinners, that first summer when Ilya extended his stay, Yuna had cornered him and attempted to grill him about the timeline of their relationship. She wanted details, down to when and where and everything between. Ilya felt like a deer in headlights, trying to explain that Shane didn’t want to share those things and feeling like he was failing a test. Emphasis on attempted. Shane has a built in Ilya-in-distress detector and appeared like a knight in shining armor to rescue him. 

He hadn’t been happy that his mother, one, was going behind his back for details and two, was grilling his boyfriend for them and three, wouldn’t take no for an answer. It devolved into a shouting match between mother and son. Yuna couldn’t stand not knowing, especially coupled with the fact that it had been happening for so long without both her knowledge and input. Shane hadn’t let that go, raising his voice to inform her that the only people who needed to know about his relationship was him and Ilya and the only people who got a say in their relationship was them. They didn’t owe her a drawn out explanation of every time they’d hooked up or what had been said or who had hurt who. Yuna wanted to be updated and informed of every development, something Ilya hadn’t been aware she’d been pestering Shane about. When her inquiry went unanswered to her satisfaction, she turned on Ilya.

The thing that fed Ilya’s anxieties is the texts Shane received reflected her desire to know every detail. When Ilya had done a post-game interview shirtless, inadvertently showing off a hickey Shane left behind, Yuna had gone–for lack of a better word–ballistic. Ilya liked that English word. He didn’t like the voicemail Shane received on behalf of both of them, asking when they could have possibly gotten together in order to leave marks. Wasn’t Ilya in Boston? Why wasn’t she informed that they’d met up during their days off? She needed to be prepared for these things, Shane. What if the media started to question it? Have you thought that this will set you back, Shane? Do you have marks I need to be aware of, Shane? What about your reputation, Shane? What about the sponsors, Shane?

That was only one example, and it made Ilya uncomfortable. He liked Yuna. He liked Shane more. It was his job to be steady and reliable for his fiance. It wasn’t his job to placate his mother-in-law or provide her with proof that he loved her son. It made Shane uncomfortable too, which was arguably worse to Ilya. Shane wasn’t blind, but there was an extent to how unaware he was to Yuna’s overbearing presence in his life until it was directed at the one thing he never let anyone have any say in: Ilya. So Shane had taken a step back, turned down sponsorships, changed the locks at the cottage and his apartment, only let dinner happen at the elder Hollander’s home or in public, and flat out refused to let his mom take over Ilya’s own portfolio. 

This was where Shane’s reputation helped: if Yuna insisted on a brand, but Shane refused to show up, there was very little Yuna could do except extend an apology to the company on Shane’s behalf. These people liked Shane, liked his reputation, it was why they reached out in the first place, so the first few times he ‘pulled out last minute’ (read: Yuna expected him to show up to the airport with little advance notice after being turned down.), they understood. Yuna got one email from a potential sponsor that expressed their surprise because they thought Shane would be more accommodating, but, of course, they understood his busy schedule. That phone call was fun. Now they were at a stalemate where Yuna couldn’t agree to anything without an explicit yes from Shane or she ran the risk of blowing up her hard work. Shane said yes to very little these days.

Ilya expressed his worry that he didn’t want to disrupt Shane’s relationship with his parents only to get a glare leveled at him and Shane informing him very bluntly that he’d already been forced to come out to them before he was ready, had been forced to share his relationship before he was ready, so he wasn’t going to let his parents run them over just because they were under the impression he still owed them something. He let his mother fill his time because he hadn’t had anything else to do, no other reason to say no. It was easier to lean into a curated image when he was still denying himself anything he Wanted. Now he had an actual relationship to dedicate his time to and didn’t need to distract himself from the truth curling around his ribs, aching to be heard. Shane would be damned if he continued to let anyone else have a say in his relationship after a decade of only listening to outside voices. It had cost him too much time, so in the effort of balance and being honest with himself when he could, he’d decided it was time to figure out who Shane was and let Hollander fall to the side. Despite what his mother thought, their relationship wasn’t a PR stunt, it wasn’t something to be displayed to the public, or made palatable for the media. It wasn’t some moral brand they needed to blunt and soften. It wasn’t something for sponsors to take advantage of for diversity points. This was Shane and Ilya’s relationship, no one else's.

“Yes, they will,” says Shane, defiant, pressing a kiss to Ilya’s ring. “I love you, I want to marry you, I want to protect you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. That should be enough for them.”

Dinner is on the table when they go inside. David whipped up chicken parm at Shane’s request. All he knew was Shane had something to tell them, so celebration chicken it was. It takes longer than he expects for someone to bring it up. Really, Ilya is shocked the rings weren’t the first thing noticed.

Yuna clears her throat, “Are you going to tell us why you skipped on the holidays?”

Shane puts his fork down and Ilya follows suit, “Well, mom, actually, Ilya and I have something to tell you guys.” Yuna raises her eyebrows, a silent prompt. Ilya catches David’s eye and sees a knowing look there. So the rings hadn’t gone entirely unnoticed. Shane picks up Ilya’s hand and holds it up and out for his parents. Yuna’s eyes immediately narrow in on the black and gold ring. “I proposed a few days ago.”

Silence. 

David breaks it by asking, “What’d he say?”

It breaks the tension in the air and Yuna finally seems to unfreeze, “Oh. You got engaged.”

Shane smiles at Ilya, who’s had a wide grin on his face since Shane picked up his hand, “Yeah, we did.” He holds his own hand out to show off his own, matching ring on his right hand. 

“Congragulations, boys,” says David. Warmth and sincerity coat his voice and Ilya relaxes. David might just be the most at ease with everything they throw his way and he wonders what would finally make him blink. Yuna still hasn’t said anything else.

“Mom?” Shane prompts.

“Sorry, of course I’m happy for you,” she smiles. “I just didn’t think you’d get engaged this fast.”

Shane frowns, “What do you mean?”

“Well, are you planning on coming out?”

“No, mom, you know why we can’t,” says Shane. “Why would us getting engaged change that?”

“I don’t mean anything by it, it’s just, you haven’t been in a real relationship very long.” She frowns, “You don’t think you’re moving too fast? You don’t even live together.”

The air is sucked from Ilya’s lungs. Too fast? Has she forgotten when they told her it had been going on since before rookie season? Has she forgotten why they can’t live together? Ilya might hate English, but he knows the difference between don’t and can’t and he knows which one he and Shane fall under. His fiance seems to be in a similar boat, floundering under the unexpected turn of conversation. 

“We can’t live together, Mom, you know that.” So Shane had picked up on that too. “It’s not too soon to think about marriage. We’ve been together, officially, for a year and a half, that’s three times as long as Hayden and Jackie knew each other before they got married.” Ilya squeezes Shane’s thigh. The Pikes were obviously still on his mind. He’s a little surprised Shane doesn’t bring up the decade they’ve known each other, but a glance at his fiance tells him that that was intentional. If his mom is going to forget, or, more likely, diminish their history, Shane is going to let her.

“I know honey, but you’re not the Pikes. This situation is entirely different.”

Shane’s scowl deepens, “No. It’s not different, Mom. Sure, we can’t exactly be open about it, but what’s the difference? We love each other and we want to get married, why should I be denied that just because we’re hiding?”

“Shane…” Yuna sighs, “Look, I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“And I’m trying to make sure Ilya’s safe,” retorts Shane. 

“So you’re getting married for citizenship? I thought we were working on his PR?” Shane rolls his eyes so hard Ilya is concerned.

“No!”

“Oh, good.” Good? Shane’s eyes narrow when his mom cuts him off. Ilya’s own heart has stopped in his chest, what could be good about this?

“Good?” hisses Shane, “Good?”

“Shane, I just want you to think this through. It’s not the time to get married. I thought the plan was to wait until you retire.”

“Plans change.”

“Not one this complicated.”

“You don’t want us to get married,” Shane questions. His voice has surpassed hard and landed in a dangerous territory Ilya rarely hears. It’s clear his parents don’t recognize it, at least not for what it is.

“Honey, of course I want you to get married. We love you, and Ilya, and we just want you to be happy. I don’t think getting married now is the right thing. You should wait until Ilya at least has his residency.” 

“You still think we’re doing this for citizenship?”

“Shane, the timing is a little suspicious, you have to agree. He just moved to Canada and I get that you want to protect him. Spousal endorsement isn’t the only way to go, though.”

“So what, I should take it back? Get un-engaged until you decide it’s the right time?”

“No, Shane,” Yuna says, rolling her eyes at the circling conversation. As if she’s not the one spinning it. “I don’t want you to take it back. I’m so happy you’re engaged, I just think you’re jumping the gun on marriage. It’s not exactly a decision you can take back.”

“Then we’ll do a fucking long engagement, Mom!” Shane shouts, “Jesus Christ, why is it such a big deal that I love my fiance? I wanted to propose, so I did!”

That takes her aback, “I’m sorry. You’re right, it’s not a big deal. You love Ilya, you only followed your heart.” She turns to Ilya then and he tenses infinitesimally, “Ilya, honey, I’m thrilled for you two. I really am. I don’t want it to seem like I’m not, I’m just worried and I think that’s coming across wrong.”

Ilya gives her a polite smile, gripping Shane’s fingers tighter under the table where they can’t be seen, “I know, Yuna. We worry too, but I love Shane. He loves me. That is what matters, I think.”

Something in her expression tightens, but the smile doesn’t leave her face. Ilya thinks there’s a part of her that is still bitter that Ilya usurped her spot as Most Important Person in Shane’s life and it’s plainly visible. He knows he’s held that spot longer than she thinks and a part of her blames him for Shane’s changed behavior. Which isn’t untrue, but is unfair to both him and Shane. Shane hasn’t changed, he’s just stopped pretending and suppressing himself. At least as much as he can, especially around his parents. Yuna reminds him of the figure skating coach he knew as a child in Russia, always determined to be the loudest voice in the room. If you were one of her skaters, she expected to be the only, or at least, the primary authority in your life. Until Ilya came along, or rather, until she was aware that Ilya was around, Yuna held her spot as the authority on Shane’s life. Being usurped unexpectedly was a surprising and difficult adjustment. Ilya thinks that’s why she intentionally leaves out the full extent of their history. Combined with their refusal to give her details, Yuna has decided their relationship is only as much as she can see. Because the truth is unacceptable to her: the Shane she thinks she knows isn’t the real one. The Shane she raised doesn’t hide things, especially not a relationship. Especially not this. So she makes Ilya the bad guy as much as she can. It’s not his fault she sold the idea of the Perfect Boy Next Door, Canada’s Darling so well even she bought it.

The conversation moves on, David taking the reins and redirecting the subject to something that wouldn’t set anyone off again. They make it though the rest of dinner, migrate successfully to the living room for presents, and manage a movie together. The tension never leaves Shane’s shoulders. 

Later in the car, when they’re finally out of earshot, Ilya asks, “Will we really do long engagement?”

Shane’s angry glare returns full force, and Ilya knows it’s not directed at him (never at him, not like this), but he doesn’t know why he asks when his fiance is still upset. This would be a better conversation for home.

“Fuck that,” says Shane, “I’m calling a courthouse tomorrow morning. The less time we spend engaged the better. If she can’t just be fucking happy for me, that’s on her. We’ll invite them to the vow renewal when we come out and can have a proper wedding.”

Tears well in Ilya’s eyes, fuck he loves this man, “Ok, solnyshko, whatever you want.”

Chapter End Notes

listen, i love yuna and david, but i enjoy a more imperfect version of them. i eat up the boy mom yuna enmeshment thread every time and i love shane standing up for himself and Ilya. it's always bothered me that shane and ilya dont really get a chance to establish themselves as a couple before they have momager yuna breathing down their necks and i think there's an interesting dichotomy there that especially shane would hate. he hates being out of control (forced out of the closet) and anyone messing with his baby (and their relationship). once shane no longer need to distract himself from Wanting Ilya, i do think he wants to take a step back from the public eye as much as he can and he's Not letting his mom step in to manage their relationship(that does extend to their public personas). he's worked too hard to Have this (a real relationship with the man he loves) and now that he has it, he's putting his foot down about things that he didn't even notice before. shane now has the space to grow into himself and yuna does Not Like that she's being forced to reckon with the real version of her son who is nothing like the version he's been presenting to not only everyone else, but also his parents(a version Yuna herself constructed!). does any of that make sense? if i could figure out how to link the tumblr post, i would, but alas, all my attempts have ended in disaster. anyway, ilya (any partner of shane's really) is a Threat not previously considered, and yuna is both trying to be a Good Mom and Ally! and also That's HER son get away from him, don't you see he's changing and that's Bad because I Didn't Approve of This Change and so it's Wrong and Not True to Himself.

Chapter 6: mystery jane OR shane makes a friend

Chapter Notes

i love cliff marlow. I think he and shane become fast friends. I think they're both very Jock in a way that Ilya and Shane's other friend's just aren't and I think Shane likes that. Do you know that one SNL sketch with travis kelce about gays having straight bro friends? that's cliff and shane, except eventually shane also turns into travis kelce. let shane be a jock w a jock-bro friend!

funniest comment from last chapter: "Shane: we want a long engagement. Like maybe another 10, 12 hours."
congrats - i've been cracking up thinking about it for days and will continue to do so. That's not what's happening here, but i appreciated it and absolutely love it. it's very shane.

January 2019

It was almost perfect, the way things lined up. Ottawa faced Boston on home ice the same day Montreal had a day off. So, Shane left practice the day before and didn't even make a pitstop at home (he'd done everything that morning) before heading straight to Ottawa. JJ noticed his giddy rush and caught up to him outside, “Hey, what's the rush? Seeing Romeo tonight?”

“Yeah, actually, we’re introducing me to one of his friends tomorrow.”

“Really!?”

“Yeah. I'm nervous, but…” he shrugs. 

“Well, go have fun with your man. Tell me all about it.”

“Thank you, I will. And if it goes well,” he shrugs again with a small smile, “We’ll see.”

JJ pumps his fist and waves goodbye with a final shout to say hello to Ilya for him. Shane finishes making his way to his car where Hayden is waiting for him, leaning against the driver’s door. The easy grin he’d put on his face slides off.

“Hey man, Jackie's making dinner if you wanna come over. Stay late, watch a movie. We've got a day off tomorrow.”

“Sorry Hayd. I'm driving to Ottawa. Right now, actually,” Shane keeps his voice light. He wishes Hayden would stop cornering him whenever he felt like Shane wasn’t talking to him enough, never mind that they’d just come off a long practice or that they talked every day. 

“What? Come on man, it's our day off, I want to spend it with my best friend,” whines Hayden.

“We hung out the last time we had a day off, and I'm pretty sure we’re taking your kids to the aquarium again next day off. It's in my calendar. Sorry, Hayden, I've got to go.” Shane unlocks his trunk to throw his hockey bag in next to his packed duffle.

“Really?” scoffs Hayden, “You're going to see him?”

Shane glares beneath the raised trunk, “I don't know who you're talking about, Hayden.”

“Shane… don't do that man. Come on.” Hayden's exasperated voice is paired with a full body eye roll. 

“You didn't want to hear about him, so you don't have to hear about him,” returns Shane, crossing his arms and wishing Hayden would pick up on the clear signal to get out of the way.

“You don't have to keep punishing me for punching him. I said I was sorry, ok?” 

Is that what he thinks this is? A punishment and Shane will come crawling back when he's satisfied? Fuck that. After the press conference, Hayden had tried to apologize, but Shane found it lacking in sincerity and content. Hayden had tried the same old argument he’d been using since he found out: it was Ilya’s fault, he started it and Hayden just finished it, he shouldn’t be held responsible for how he reacts to Ilya’s words and actions. When Shane said he had to apologize to Ilya still Hayden had flipped, refusing to do so until ‘that asshole apologizes first.’ So, Shane gave him an ultimatum: apologize to Ilya and Shane will ‘go back to normal.’

He didn’t tell Hayden that there was no ‘normal’ to return to. He’d made the ultimatum because he knew Hayden wouldn’t actually apologize to his fiance, even with Jackie’s interference. Besides, Shane could sniff out a Jackie text a mile away. So they were at a stalemate that Hayden hated. Shane was friendly, still chatted to him, didn’t let it affect hockey, went over to his house, and still babysat his kids occasionally. The difference is he wasn’t telling Hayden as much about his life, and their time spent together outside the rink decreased. He’d also stopped rooming with Hayden, taking JJ up on his offer to share with him instead.

“Hayden, get out of my way.” The steel in his tone moves Hayden a few inches to the left, enough for Shane to finally climb into the driver's seat and shut the door. He ignores whatever Hayden's doing, he catches a few gestures that he has no hope of deciphering without the added context of whatever Hayden is saying. Shane both can't hear him and isn't listening as he drives away. 

—

He can’t attend the game in person, but he does watch it from Ilya’s house with Svetlana. It’s the first time they’ve been left alone together since Ilya told her about Shane a few weeks ago. Shane was expecting it to be awkward, or for his latent jealousy to be obvious. But once the game started, Svetlana asked for his opinion on Boston’s newest rookie and they were able to settle into an easy conversation. 

Shane’s half-listening to whatever Svetlana’s saying, eyes narrowing at the tv, where Ilya’s being followed by one of Boston’s defensemen. It’s not obvious to anyone but Shane, and probably Svetlana, and it’s driving Shane crazy. 

He’s on his feet shouting, barely registering that Svetlana’s doing the same, cursing out the ref in Russian. The player hounding Ilya finally boarded him, hard, and definitely not a legal check either. The ref calls it incorrectly, sending both players back to their benches without a penalty for Boston. Shane is livid, Ilya is skating a little dazed to Ottawa’s bench. Luckily, Wiebe takes one look at him and sends him back into the tunnel to be checked out.

Shane sits with a huff, “Fucking ref and his stupid calls.”

“I recognize him, he usually refs in the states, I don’t know why he traveled all the way to Ottawa except he’s always favored Boston,” Svetlana explains.

“He’s pissed that Ilya moved? Typical,” Shane grumbles. “Players move teams all the time, asshole!” he shouts at the tv.

“He can’t hear you,” says Svetlana, amusement coloring her voice.

“I don’t care, I’ll haunt his dreams until he retires from shame.”

“Every ref's nightmare, being told they made a bad call by hockey god, Shane Hollander.”

“They should be,” says Shane, “I’ve never been wrong about a bad call. Especially against Ilya.” He side-eyes Ilya’s best friend out of the corner of his eye and makes a decision, “Do you remember the 2012-2013 season? When Ilya sprained his ankle because of a series of illegal checks and they let Toronto off?” 

Svetlana nods, “Da. I was livid. But someone, a fan I think, submitted a complaint so bad the referee who made the bad calls retired.”

“I know,” Shane grins, “that was me. I anonymously emailed the department of player safety with evidence and they thanked me for bringing it to their attention. The guy retired because the other option was to fire him publicly. It wasn’t his only infraction.”

He enjoys watching Svetlana’s jaw drop, “You? Shane Hollander, I’ve decided you are worthy of Ilushenka. He doesn’t need my approval, I know, but I like you. I already liked you, but now I like you more.”

“Oh,” says Shane, “thank you? I was worried about Ilya’s friends not liking me. Mine certainly don’t like him and it pisses me off, I would hate for Ilya to feel that way. It’s… it’s what I've been worried about,” he confesses quietly.

“Hmmm,” she hums, “what I think is that the real Ilya is wrapped up in a lot of layers that very few people get to see. You have seen it, so have I, and his teammates, old and new, have seen some of it. Your friends have not, or they refuse to see that he could be different than they know.”

“They won’t give him a chance,” explains Shane. “Well, I guess I’m really only talking about Hayden and my parents, but those three are supposed to be the people I’m closest to, and they can’t really see past who they’ve always seen him. My parents are trying, but it’s like I brought home an alien, instead of just my rival. I hate it,” he grumbles, “I wish they would trust me.”

“Yes, well, you can share us,” she says. “Ilya’s friends are your friends.”

“Thanks, Svetlana.”

—

Cliff is leaning against Ilya’s car when he walks out of the Tire Center, “Hey, man! I am pumped to finally meet your mystery Jane.”

Ilya grins, clapping his friend on the shoulder, “Get in, he is waiting for us at home.”

“Hell yeah,” says Cliff, climbing into the passenger seat. Ilya grins at his friend, revving the engine unnecessarily before peeling out of the parking lot. 

“Don’t tell him I did that,” he warns Cliff. “He will kill me if he knows I was driving like that.”

“Please, man, I’ve been keeping your secrets how long?” Cliff scoffs, “The bisexual thing didn’t even surprise me, that's how good I am at keeping your secrets.”

It’s true, when Ilya had been in Boston last, at the beginning of the month, he’d (separately) sat his two best friends down and told them he was bisexual and engaged to a man. Svetlana had immediately known it was Shane, demanding that she gets to meet him at the nearest opportunity. Cliff hadn’t put Jane=Shane together, but he had asked if it was his Montreal girl. He reminded Ilya of some drunken promise he had made years ago, that if Ilya ever managed to get a ring on his finger, he would let Cliff meet Jane.

Now Cliff was going to actually meet Shane and Ilya was praying it wouldn’t go terribly. Or that he wouldn’t get home to find a body or two. Both Shane and Sveta assured him that they could get along for a few hours, especially with a hockey game to watch, but he couldn’t help the worry.

Their chatter falls off when Ilya pulls into his driveway. Cliff takes one look at him and reaches over to put a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, Roz, it’ll be fine. I’m excited to meet this guy.”

“I know,” says Ilya. Then he sighs, “I am only worried because his friends don’t like me. Only one has actually met me, but it did not go well. His parents, too, aren’t thrilled he’s with me. They like me enough, but… Sveta likes him, but I still… I am worried. It is not you.”

“What’s not to like about you?” His friend asks, genuine surprise in his tone. Ilya gives him a look like he’s dumb. 

“Marly, I have, uh, reputation, you know?” He reminds Cliff. 

Cliff scoffs, “Yeah, but that’s just TMZ and shit. Anyone who gets to know you knows that’s not super real. You’re so much more than that. Everyone’s got a hockey rep for the cameras, why would you be different?”

“Thanks, Marly, but they do not see past that.”

“Does Jane?” Ilya gives him a questioning look, “Does Jane see past all that?”

“Of course, he knew me before all that. He knows it is not all real, and—”

“Then who cares?” Marlow cuts him off, “Jane knows, we, your friends, know. It sucks about his friends, but then that means I’ll just have to be his friend so he can have friends with good taste.”

Ilya laughs, Marly always knows how to make him feel better, “Come on. Let’s go meet him.”

He leads Cliff inside, motioning him to take his shoes off at the door. Not that Cliff needs reminding, he’s been to Ilya’s house enough to know, but Ilya’s gotten used to reminding people again. He loves the Centaurs, but come on Boyle, this isn’t America, shoes stay off. 

“We’re home,” Ilya calls. He can hear the tv still playing, so there’s hope that his fiance and his best friend are both alive. He leads Cliff into the living room, deciding the best way to rip the bandaid off is to just let him see and process. 

“Hey,” Ilya greets Shane, walking over behind the couch and leaning down to give him an upside down kiss. 

“Hey,” Shane greets softly back, “are you ok? That was a dirty hit.”

Ilya rolls his eyes, “I am fine, solnyshko. I was just a little dizzy. No problems.” Cliff clears his throat and Ilya turns to him, “Yes, Marly?”

“Nothing, Roz, just, that’s Shane Hollander,” he says, pointing at Shane. There’s a look of utter delight on his face and Shane can’t help but grin back. “You’re Shane Hollander.”

“Hi, Marlow,” he says. 

“Sup, Hollzy. So, Jane?” Shane nods. Cliff gives an impressed nod back and asks, pointing at Ilya, “Ilya, Il-ee-ah. Hm, not much that rhymes with that. Cecilia? Roz—Rose? No, uh…”

“Lily,” answers Shane. He’s smothering a laugh at Cliff’s attempt to immediately try and figure out Ilya’s fake name. It makes him feel better about it when Cliff doesn’t jump to Lily. Maybe they weren’t so obvious names after all. 

“Lily!” Cliff snaps and points at Shane, “Nice. Lily and Jane. Hey, Svetlana.”

“Clifford,” Svetlana greets him, deadpan. 

“Good, we all know each other,” says Ilya. Cliff gives his friend a lazy grin and sits down on the couch, joining Svetlana and Shane. 

“So, Shane,” he starts again, “how’d you and Roz end up bumpin’ uglies?”

Shane’s nose wrinkles at the image, “Gross. He was very persistent.”

“Yeah, he is. I remember him texting his Montreal girl, like, way back… wait, he’s been texting you for a while. How long have you two been…?” he trails off, waiting for an answer, knowing better than to repeat his earlier innuendo or come up with a new one.

It’s Ilya’s turn to grin, “Guess. Is longer than you think.”

Cliff looks between them, back and forth. He throws one look to Svetlana, who shrugs with an amused smile. 

“Ok, my last girlfriend was really into those detective novels and she made me read a ton. I can figure this out, don’t help me.” Cliff narrows his eyes, and Shane can see the gears turning in his head, “You would have met, what, two-thousand and nine? That’s when you would have played each other in juniors. Your rookie year started two-thousand ten, and I know you’ve been texting since at least twenty-thirteen. That’s like a year and a half when you two knew each other, but none of us. Except Svetlana.” Shane’s jaw drops halfway through. He’s impressed that Cliff remembered he and Ilya knew each other for a few years before they joined the NHL officially. There wasn’t much history there, but it was important history. At least to them. “Judging by your reaction, I’m going to say that this has been going on since the draft. That’s the only time I can think that you could have been together, alone, for enough time to at least talk unsupervised. And you’re surprised I guessed that far back, probably because you dated Rose Landry, and Roz was whoring around Boston, and then you have that insane chemistry at All-Stars that one year,” Cliff shrugs, “Am I right?”

Ilya is speechless, stuttering out sounds that are supposed to be words, but are getting lost in the surprise. Shane is in a similar state in front of him on the couch. Svetlana just looks impressed. 

“Guys?”

“Holy shit,” whispers Shane. “Yeah, you’re right. The draft is the starting point. Or a starting point, yeah. First juniors we played was two-thousand eight, December.”

“Oh, nice,” Cliff sits back, looking proud of himself. “So, all the way back to the draft. That’s insane. Good for you.”

“Sorry,” Shane apologizes, “I think I’m in shock a little. I’m used to people asking why, or assuming we haven’t been together very long.”

Cliff shrugs, “It makes sense, so I don’t know why. Roz said none of your friends like him very much, which I think is crazy. Roz is awesome. He’s also kind, and insanely good at hockey, and he likes dogs. If anyone’s gonna steal his heart, it’s you.”

“Thanks, Marlow,” says Shane, oddly touched. Marlow nods decisively. “Yeah, Hayden kinda guessed that we were together–it was supposed to be a stupid joke, but I’m a shit liar and I wasn’t expecting anyone to even…” he shakes his head, “and when we had him over for dinner… let's just say I got fed up after a month, so I told him to forget he ever found out.”

“Shit, really? I don’t know much about Pike. Is that, like, on theme?”

“I don’t know. He’s always disliked Ilya, you know, the rivalry and all that. But I thought, especially after he guessed about Ilya, he would come around. Learn to at least tolerate the guy I’ve been in love with my entire adult life, but…” Shane shakes his head, “I don’t know if you saw, but when we announced the charity a few months ago, Ilya’s black eye is from Hayden.”

“Is that how he got that shiner?” Shane nods. 

“Right at the end of the game, there was no reason for it except Hayden thought Ilya was being a dick. I told him not to punch Ilya and he did it anyway. That was my last straw. I’d been putting up with his behavior for a month, even when Ilya wasn’t there, or even a part of the conversation. Any chance to shit on him,” it’s Shane’s turn to shrug, “I hit him back and told him to forget he knew Ilya was Boston Lily. The worst part?” Shane is on a roll, but he can’t stop, “He did. It was so easy for him to just… move on. Pretend he’d never met Ilya, or knew he was my boyfriend, you know, pretend everything was normal. It fucking sucks.”

Cliff lets out a low whistle, “Guess that means I’ll have to take over. Roz, you’re being demoted to second bestie, Shane is my new best friend.”

Ilya sputters, “What? Marly–”

“Nope,” he says, “you’ve got Svetlana, so I’m taking Shane.”

“I-I don’t know–” Shane blinks in surprise, “I have other friends. JJ, for example. He hasn’t met Ilya, but he knows I have a boyfriend. And I actually trust that if I invite him to the wedding, he’ll behave.”

“You sure?”

Shane nods, “He knows what happened when Hayden found out and he’s determined to prove he’s better. He keeps asking me questions about Ilya so he can have a picture before he meets him, something about wanting to know what I like about him. It’s nice,” he adds, “to just be able to brag about Ilya without someone chiming in about how much of an asshole he is.”

“Yeahhhh,” Cliff drawls, “you and I are going to be good friends. We both love Roz a lot and we like to talk about how much we love Roz!” Shane laughs, “I’m serious, Hollzy! What do you love most about him?”

Shane thinks for a minute. There are a million things he loves about Ilya, and he finds more everyday. He gives the same answer he gave JJ, “He makes me feel safe and loved.” Shane looks back at his fiance, “He challenges me and makes me feel like I can be completely myself.”

Cliff nods along, a knowing look on his face, “Yeah. I don’t know exactly what you mean, I think that’s just for you, but he’s a very safe person. When my dad died, he made sure I didn’t drown.”

“Yeah,” says Shane. Then, just because he can, “And he’s got a big dick.”

“HA!” Cliff barks a surprised laugh, “That’s definitely a bonus.”

“Oh, and you would know?”

“I shared a locker room with him for eight years, Hollander,” says Cliff. “And I was his wingman most of that time. I’ve seen things.”

Shane breaks down in laughter. He can’t remember the last time he made a friend this fast, or felt this comfortable around someone so easily. He didn’t know if it was Cliff declaring they were friends, or if it was because he reminded Shane of Ilya, or if it was just Cliff himself, but Shane was completely ignoring the other two people in the room and one of those was his actual fiance. 

His fiance who was pouting from next to Svetlana, where he’d moved to sit next to her while Shane was talking with Cliff.

“Sorry, baby,” he reaches across the cushion to take Ilya’s hand. He pouts but lets Shane intertwine their fingers, “are we ignoring you?” Ilya’s pout deepens and Shane smiles while Cliff starts laughing again, “I thought you wanted me to be friends with your friends?”

“Yeah, Rozy, I thought you wanted us to be friends?”

“Not when you are ignoring me,” Ilya grumbles. “Is fine, Sveta and I will hang out without you. We will go somewhere else.” He tries to stand and bring Svetlana with him, but she doesn’t budge, pulling him back down and into her lap where he curls up and sticks his tongue out at his fiance.

“How about we talk about your wedding?” Svetlana suggests. “That is why we are all here, right? Ilyushenka hasn’t told me how you proposed.”

“Oh,” says Shane, “yeah, I can tell you.”

“You proposed?” asks Cliff. When Shane nods, he reaches over to get a high five, “Nice. So, how’d you do it?”

Shane launches into the story, starting with JJ telling him that they could seal the documents so no one could see them. He tells them about dragging JJ ring shopping and the story behind the meteorite rings and why he felt drawn to them. Cliff interrupts once to ask if he meant to get the rings in Boston’s colors, or if that was an accident. Horror dawns on Shane’s face as he looks down at his ring, then over to Ilya’s, then back to Cliff with a quiet, horrified, “No?”

The room erupts in laughter. Shane doesn’t care and tries to defend himself, but the Bear and former Bear are ribbing him relentlessly, so his efforts are in vain. When they finally let him finish, he picks up the story with his process of figuring out where to hide the rings. Ilya is surprised that he managed to hide them so well, asking where he ended up hiding them. Shane gives him a once over, deciding he might need that spot in the future and refuses to tell his fiance his hiding spot. He does lean over to whisper in Cliff’s ear. Cliff guffaws loudly, declaring that Shane was a genius. Nothing Ilya does will convince him or Shane to tell him the hiding spot.

Shane convinces him to move on by asking him to tell them about the morning Shane proposed. Ilya does, “When I woke up, Shane asked me if I remembered our anniversary, which is ridiculous, because I knew it wasn’t our anniversary. Not one I remembered about, anyway. But there they were on the nightstand, waiting for me. Shane gave big speech about how much he loved me and asked me to marry him,” Ilya grins, “in Russian.” Svetlana gives Shane an approving look.

“Awww,” coos Cliff. “What was the anniversary?”

“Huh,” asks Shane, tearing his eyes from his fiance.

“Your anniversary, what was it?”

“Oh, December twenty-third was exactly ten years to the day we met at World Juniors,” answers Shane. 

“Oh, that’s cute,” says Cliff. Shane nods back, he thought so too. “So when are you planning on getting married?”

Shane shrugs, “We were thinking All-Star weekend, actually. Or right after, while we still have time off. That’s when it’ll be easiest to get everyone together the soonest. Rose has a free weekend that she says lines up perfectly. Ilya and I will both be there, JJ’s going to tag along with me cause he’s not invited. We were hoping you two would also want to be there. Marlow, I know you’re going to be there regardless.”

“Of course, man. I’ll be there,” confirms Cliff, looking touched. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I will be Ilya’s plus one,” adds Svetlana. “You, Shane Hollander, will introduce me to Rose Landry.”

Chapter End Notes

shane definitely sends anonymous emails when he thinks he needs to. he's ended seven peoples careers both directly and indirectly. not all of them were hockey related, one was a manager at a store. ilya has no clue he does this. his parents have no clue he does this. one of those emails was sent from on set of a deal he didn't really want to take back in 2015-ish and the makeup artist was being rude to shane and his assistants. the email also got yuna in trouble and shane will take that it was his fault to the grave. she was NOT happy and went on a crusade to find the person.

anyway... anything else? oh, hope you enjoyed all 4000 words, i didn't know how to split it up.

Chapter 7: let jj ask weird questions

Chapter Notes

JJ's back!
also the word Ilya is looking for is 'ulterior'

February 2019

For the two best hockey players in the league, Shane and Ilya’s absence went mostly unnoticed. Sometimes being untouchable has its perks. Like renting out an empty conference room in a nice hotel to host a small, last minute wedding. Rose flew in the day before and, while everyone else was busy three blocks down at the rink, set everything up with Svetlana, who’d gotten the information she needed from Shane and took off. While the two women were bonding, Shane was slipping out of the after party and to his room to pack. JJ knocks a minute later, and Shane lets him into the room.

“Hey, are we going?” he asks.

“Yeah,” answers Shane, a little distracted by his suitcase. “Fiance and friends are meeting us there. Rose is setting everything up, so it’ll be ready to go. We’ll meet in her room, introduce everyone to each other, then Il– Fiance and I will be split up to get ready. We have the conference room until ten-thirty, so we should be down there by nine. JJ, I’m getting married at nine pm, is that crazy?”

JJ shrugs, “I guess it’s odd, but also, I don’t think any of this is normal so why start now?”

“Good point,” agrees Shane. “We have our marriage license, Svetlana is ordained in Canada for some reason, so she’ll perform the ceremony, and then we’ll just have to finish our paperwork and send it off to Farah.”

“Sounds like a plan, mon ami.”

Sneaking out of the hotel is a little easier than Shane anticipated, but he’s not complaining. Cliff and Ilya already made a scene to distract everyone from noticing them lumbering off to do whatever people assumed the two got up to, and dipped from the hotel already, sneaking out a side door.

They beat Shane and JJ to the hotel by a few minutes. Shane sends JJ to get the room key and meets him at the elevator, punching in Rose’s floor and tapping his foot impatiently. JJ side-eye’s his friend, reaching over to rest a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Shane. You’re getting married, no need to be nervous. And don’t be nervous about me, I’ve mentally prepared for this. I promise I’m going to be on my best behavior.” Shane gives him a grateful look, but JJ can see it’s still tinged with a little bit of worry, “Look, there are very few people I could meet today and react poorly.”

“Do you have an example?” Shane asks.

JJ shrugs, “Dallas Kent, for one, but I doubt it’s him.” 

The elevator dings and lets them off. Shane strides ahead in the empty hall and raps on Rose’s door. JJ gapes a little at the famous actress, but swallows his surprise and follows Shane into the room.

JJ freezes when he sees who else is in the room. He was already scanning for Shane’s future husband and his eyes land on the only two possible explanations: Cliff Marlow and Ilya Rozanov. The only other person is another woman, so JJ ignores her for now, eyes narrowing at the other two. Hayden hates him, rings in his ears, which doesn’t really narrow his options, except, he’s an asshole also rings out.

Every time Shane has ever said anything about Rozanov it's always been he's an asshole. That's it. Obviously it’s Ilya Rozanov, who else. All of the things Shane has said, from telling JJ he knows his fiance, to Hayden’s reactions, to all the things Shane has gushed about the man he loves. Mind made up, he stalks up to Rozanov, who straightens, eyeing him warily. He senses Shane's tense behind him and sees Rozanov’s friends brace. Reel it in, Boiziau, he reminds himself.

“If you switched bodies with Shane for a day, would you drink his gross smoothie?”

Rozanov blinks, but doesn’t say what? so JJ lets him take his time to process his question and find an answer.  

“I am in Shane's body and he is in mine?” asks Rozanov, still eyeing him, but his expression is more akin to confusion than what it was before.

“Oui,” says JJ, wondering where Rozanov will take this. The entire room is holding its breath and JJ feels like he’s the one being tested. Don’t worry everyone, JJ just needs to make sure Rozanov is going to take care of his friend. If he needs to ask a weird question, goddamn, he’s going to ask a weird question. It’s better than standing and staring in shock.

“Do I know it's happening? Do I know I will wake up as Shane?” JJ blinks. He wasn't expecting a clarifying question, but he's curious to see where Rozanov goes with this. 

“Yes,” he says. Rozanov nods. “You know you’re going to swap bodies for the day.”

“Ok, I go on run at 6am, then I drink smoothie and do yoga. Shane will watch to make sure I do it right. He will also do yoga in my body to prove a point. then we probably fuck all day, unless it is too weird, then we cuddle on couch and watch hockey until curse wears off. We both only eat bird food all day and I will only complain a little bit,” Rozanov pinches his fingers together. “Maybe at end of day I convince Shane to have ice cream because he is me.”

JJ holds his hand out to shake. Rozanov eyes it, but takes it, shaking firmly, “I like you,” says JJ. It’s true. He’s having a little trouble reconciling the picture Shane’s been contributing to over the last few months with what he knows about Rozanov–Ilya, but that’s why he asked Shane for details, so he could at least try and see the man underneath.

“Oh,” says Ro–Ilya softly and JJ hates the surprise on his face. Hayden had really fucked up, hadn’t he. JJ moves to sit on the couch in the room, next to Cliff Marlow.

“So, reformed man-whore, huh? It feel good to be retired and locked down?” he asks, trying to ease the tension in the room. He feels the moment everyone starts breathing again and looks over at Shane briefly to mouth, I told you, best behavior.

Ilya grins, “Da, good. I am sure you notice, Boiziau, I am marrying world's sexiest man. Cosmos hottest hockey player. I should retire and become wag. Dream job: Shane Hollanders WAG. So many people would be jealous of me,” he moans. “Everybody should be, he's mine. And he picked me!”

“That's been your dream job since the moment you met, huh? Saw Shane and planned your whole career around becoming his stay at home trophy husband?”

“Yes, saw small Shane Hollander on small tv in Russia and they all tell me, Ilya he is not as good as you, but be careful. You must train harder, Ilya, to beat him. Bah. I think he is fascinating. Then pretty Canadian with freckles shakes my hand and tells me I cannot smoke and I am ocharovannyy. So I make plan. I will come to America and be best hockey player, like mating call. It worked.”

“Fuck you, Rozanov,” Shane says, “maybe my plan all along was to make my childhood team the best team in sports. Maybe I saw teenage Ilya on those tapes and thought one day I’m going to get him on the Centaurs and then they'll actually go to the playoffs.”

“Ah, you admit then, you seduce me with–with,” the word escapes him, but it doesn’t deter Ilya from trying to have the last word, “Motive! You had motive to seduce me.”

JJ lets their bickering wash over him and turns to Marlow next to him, “I’d ask how you found out, but I already know.”

“Really?” Marlow asks him, scrunching his eyebrows.

“Yeah, the only thing I didn’t know was who Roz–Ilya was, but I’ve been getting Shane to tell me about him for a few months and he’s also kept me updated about the proposal and all of this,” JJ gestures around them to indicate the wedding.

“I’m glad you’re here. He deserves good friends.”

JJ nods, “Yes, he does. Pike certainly wasn’t gonna make the cut.”

A sharp whistle cuts them off. They turn to see the girls and the fiances staring at them.

“Not to interrupt,” says Rose, hands on hips, “but we should get these two dressed and married already!”

Marlow salutes and jumps up, “Right! Where do you want me?” JJ follows his lead.

“Cliff and Svetlana with Ilya, Shane give them the room key. JJ, you’re staying here with me and Shane.” The group splits, the first three ducking out of the room to head down the hall to the room Shane booked for them. JJ stays standing where he is, waiting for instructions from either his friend or his friend’s ex-girlfriend.

“Hey, JJ,” comes Shane’s voice. He looks over at his friend and sees that there’s a nervous glint in his eyes, “You’re really ok with this?”

There’s a lump in JJ’s throat, so he walks over and engulfs Shane in a hug, “I’m ok with this, I promise. I’m surprised, but mostly because I thought Ilya was straight. So that whole thing about you two becoming friends? He moved to Ottawa for you.”

Shane laughs, “Yeah, he did. We needed an excuse to be seen together in public without people freaking out. Soft-launching a friendship was what we came up with, especially now that he’s in Ottawa. It’s so much better only being two hours apart.”

“I bet, mon ami,” says JJ. “I’d say I don’t believe it, but if you were going to end up with anyone, of course it’s going to be your hockey rival.”

Rose whistles again, “Hey, nice talk, but Shane needs to get dressed, so multi-task please.” She shoves a hanger with a suit on it into Shane’s arms and pushes him towards the bathroom. Once the door is closed behind him, JJ holds his hand out.

“JJ Boiziau,” he introduces.

“Rose Landry,” she says, taking his hand in a firm shake. 

He grins, “I know. How’d you find out?”

“Shane told me,” she shrugs. “I knew there was someone, a man, before he dated me. Shane told me it was Rozanov probably…” she thinks, “a year ago? A little more? Once they became official, Shane told me he’d patched things up with the guy. After a few months, he told me it was Ilya.”

“I can hear you,” calls Shane from inside the bathroom.

“I know!” calls back Rose, “That’s why we're talking about you!”

“Fuck off!” Rose laughs and Shane emerges dressed in a white button down and suit pants. The blazer is thrown over his arm. “I’m not wearing a tie.”

“But what if Ilya wants to use it later?” Rose asks with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

“Then he can use his own tie,” gripes Shane. “If I wanted to be uncomfortable at my wedding I would have invited my parents and Hayden,” he eyes Rose, “or just married you and pretended to be straight.”

Rose wrinkles her nose, “Nuh-uh.” She rushes them through the last of the things then shoves them out the door. 

They meet Svetlana outside the conference room they’ve reserved. She’s leaning against the wall waiting and when she sees them, she straightens, “Perfect. Clifford is inside with Ilya. I will go in with Boiziau and when you hear the music you can come in with Shane,” she addresses Rose, who nods. JJ also nods, and follows Svetlana inside.

He sees Ilya and Marlow sitting against the wall. They scramble to their feet and Marlow starts to brush Ilya off and straighten his immaculate clothes. He looks good, in a dark turtleneck and slacks. JJ had the unbidden thought that Shane should’ve at least put the tie in his pocket.

“Ok, Rozy, breathe,” says Cliff. “You ready?”

Ilya looks a little dazed, like he can’t believe this is happening. Svetlana takes his head between her hands and says something to him in Russian. He nods at her and lets himself be maneuvered to the makeshift altar. Cliff waves JJ over and they finish hooking his phone up to the speakers in the room. JJ goes to stand where Svetlana directs him, on Shane’s side, opposite Rozanov. Cliff waits for her approval before starting the music and taking his place a step behind Ilya, facing JJ. They share a grin then turn to where the door has opened, Shane walking in on Rose’s arm. 

Walking into the room when the music starts, Shane’s eyes immediately find Ilya’s and his whole body relaxes. This is really happening, he’s getting married to Ilya, the love of his life. They’re going to be husbands. He’s grateful to Rose for basically guiding him down the aisle, her hand gripping his arm to keep him upright and moving. Or to keep him from sprinting to Ilya and leaping on him.

He can feel himself shaking, but nothing in the world could wipe the wide grin off his face, especially as he gets closer to Ilya. It’s not even just that he’s marrying Ilya, it’s the small group of friends they have with them. Four people who didn’t turn away from their relationship. None of these people had expressed anything but surprise and support for them.

There are unshed tears in his fiance’s eyes and one slips free as Ilya tries to blink them back when Rose puts Shane’s hand in his. He feels JJ reach out and clap his shoulder in support from behind. Rose moves to stand next to JJ and Svetlana starts her speech.

“Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov, we’re gathered today to witness you two celebrate your love and make the next step in commitment to each other. Your relationship has always been something quiet and private, out of necessity, yes, but also out of respect for each other. Your commitment does not need to be proven and your love does not need to be loud to be real.”

It’s true, Shane thinks. They both might have dreamed of a future where they could be public about their relationship, and Ilya especially likes the idea of showing Shane off, but neither of them particularly want the publicity that comes with being out. Shane doesn’t want to be the next Scott Hunter, a gay icon. He wants to play hockey, and he wants to be with Ilya. Not necessarily in that order. Ilya wants Shane to be comfortable and he doesn’t want people dissecting the details that are just for them. They also don’t like the idea of their relationship being put on display for people to dissect how much they really love each other based on the pieces they can see. Ilya already gets enough of that from Hayden and Shane’s parents. Shane doesn’t want more of it directed at his husband from the media, and Ilya doesn’t want the media to tear him apart on Ilya’s behalf because of his quieter tendencies. 

“Ilya, did you prepare vows?” Svetlana interrupts twin trains of thought. Ilya brings Shane’s hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, but shakes his head.

“We did vows already, privately,” he says. “I could just say I love you, again.”

“I love you, too,” whispers Shane back, unable to find most of his voice.

Svetlana nods, “Ok. Then, Ilya Rozanov, do you take Shane Hollander to be your husband, through the good and the bad, to celebrate his achievements and support his dreams, and to love him forever?”

“I do,” whispers Ilya, not even trying to hold back the tears anymore.

“Shane Hollander,” she turns her attention, “do you take Ilya Rozanov to be your husband, through the good and the bad, to celebrate his achievements and support his dreams, and to love him forever?”

“Of course I do,” says Shane. “I never want to do anything else.”

“Then by the power invested in me two weeks ago by the providence of Onterio, I pronounce you husband and husband, you may kiss the groom.”

Shane steps forward and pulls Ilya’s face towards him, angling their lips together. Ilya presses forward, deepening the kiss to several cheers and wolf-whistles from their friends. When he pulls back, Shane’s eyes are shiny and they’re both grinning. Ilya presses another peck to his lips and sweeps him up and spins him around. 

He’s not expecting Cliff to sweep Shane into a hug, booming laughter echoing as he takes his turn to spin his husband around. Ilya is distracted by two sets of arms encircling him from both sides, and looking reveals Svetlana and Rose squeezing him tight and grinning at him. He laughs and throws his arms around their shoulders.

JJ’s joined Shane and Cliff, jumping up and down around them and pulling his friend away to give Shane his own hug. Cliff throws his arms around both of them, then he spots Ilya and shouts, “Rozy!”

Ilya is released by the girls only to be barreled off his feet by an enthusiastic Cliff Marlow.

“You’re fucking married, bro!” his best friend shouts in his face, “Fuckin married to Shane Hollander!”

“I know, Marly!” Ilya shouts back into his face, wide grin giving him away.

“Hey!” Shane complains, “I married Ilya Rozanov!”

“Hell yeah, brother!” And Marlow is back to congratulating his husband. Ilya loves Marlow’s enthusiasm, and that it extends to his relationship. Not only that, Cliff genuinely is becoming friends with Shane, who admitted to Ilya that he enjoys Cliff’s company. 

JJ is holding his hand out. Ilya blinks and focuses his attention on the man in front of him.

“Hey, man,” he says. Ilya takes his hand, expecting a firm handshake, instead Shane’s friend pulls him into a bear hug, thumping his back a few times, “Congratulations. You’re good for him. Thanks for trusting me.”

Oh, Ilya thinks. Boiziau had been thrown into this rather suddenly. He’s known for months about Ilya, sans name, but even meeting him today, he’d only asked his weird question. Boiziau was now congratulating him on marrying his friend and thanking him. Ilya belatedly squeezes JJ back, not letting him escape quite yet.

“Thank you, JJ. You are good friend to him.”

“I’m trying,” JJ says, pulling back. “I could be better, and I’m trying. I hope he knows that.”

“He does,” says Ilya.

Chapter End Notes

not related to this work, but who wants to hear something sad that's been haunting me *cue haunted soldier meme*: the shane hollander in the long game/end of the long game relates more to the shane that tried to date rose than the shane that invited ilya to the cottage.
we need to acknowledge more that shane was RIGHT! at the end of heated rivalry he's so so so excited to be in a relationship and start sharing it with their close friends. I hope season 2 (bc JT wants to show the actual coming out to the metros scene) really SHOWS what shane goes through in the locker room post-coming out bc whatever happened (combined with being forced out of the closet to his parents and how hayden reacted (who he also was forced to share his relationship w before he was ready) something went really really wrong and SHANE WAS RIGHT TO BE AFRAID. HE WAS RIGHT AND EVERYTHING WENT WRONG!!! yes, he's on ilya's team now and they don't have to hide and yes, that's awesome, but also Shane didn't have the opportunity to do any of that on HIS terms or by HIS choice and over and over again his choices are taken away from him when it comes to his personal life(we and ilya dont acknowledge that ilya got to make a lot of his own choices about his life, obviously i'm not talking about being outed, but the rest? yes, his depression was warping a lot of his thought process, but HE brought up moving to Ottawa, HE got to make the choice to move, HE got to come out to several friends(troy/svetlana) and have it go WELL). and this wasn't supposed to be a rant it was supposed to be two sentences and now i'm going to go write more of my runaway au bc FUCK shane should be allowed to crash out and move to the middle of the woods where no one ever talks to him again unless they schedule a meeting during Office Hours (when he feels like coming down to visit ottawa). anyway...

Chapter 8: reception (heads up!)

Chapter Notes

Shane and Ilya are allowed to head up for their wedding night while everyone stays behind to clean up before they’re kicked out. The next morning though, sometime late, pushing noon, there’s rapid knocking at their door and Rose’s voice comes through, “Get up love birds. You need to be in my room in twenty minutes, we have breakfast. Consider it your reception, Cliff has a speech and Sveta got champagne and vodka. Chop chop, lover boys.”

Shane groans, and buries himself deeper into his husband. The wedding had ended before ten, but they hadn’t gotten to sleep until nearly two. Then, Ilya woke him up around nine for round… whatever they were on. Ilya huffs into his hair, stroking the growing strands. Shane had been convinced to start leting it grow out, and Ilya was loving the length of it. 

“Come, solnyshko, we can’t keep our friends waiting.” Ilya is a fucking hypocrite, Shane thinks, because even as he says they should get up, Ilya is making no move to get up either. In fact, his actions are allowing Shane to drift back off. Shane groans again. “Ok, ok. We get up now so we can shower. I don’t think we should show up in Rose’s room smelling like sex.”

Fifteen minutes later, and only three minutes late, they’re knocking on a different hotel room door. It swings open to reveal JJ, who opens the door wider to let them in. There’s a room service cart laden with food and alcohol. 

“Come on sit,” Rose instructs. Shane pulls Ilya into his lap on the love seat. They could sit side-by-side, but Shane doesn’t want to. Ilya likes it, being held by Shane, especially in front of their friends. It’s a small claim he can make, so he does. Rose hands each husband a mimosa, to match everyone else, and raises hers.

“Ok, a toast, to our best friends and their relationship,” everyone else raises their flutes, “we wish you a long, happy marriage. May you always find your way back to each other and may the sex be always hot and may the honeymoon never end. To the Hollander-Rozanovs!”

Everyone gives their own shout of to the happy couple, Shane and Ilya and drinks to them. Shane sips from his own glass, but lets Ilya take it from him after. He’ll celebrate, but he still doesn’t want to drink right now. No one comments on it.

Cliff and JJ wheel the cart over and once everyone’s helped themselves to brunch, they all settle back to eat. Ilya feeds his husband between bites of his own. When plates are cleared, and drinks refilled, Cliff stands up.

“I know it’s only the six of us here, but I’ve been waiting a decade to give Rozy’s best man speech, so I’m going to do it. I’ve also spent the last decade watching Roz pine over his Montreal girl, so I’m so happy to kill both birds with one stone. Shane, I might not have known who you were, but I can tell you that you’re the best thing that’s happened to Ilya. All those years, I was just waiting for you guys to finally figure it out. Don’t let anyone blame you for how long it took, cause I know how much Ilya was denying his feelings. He once asked us if it was possible to be horny, but not for sex, for like cuddling and hanging out and shit. Was funny as fuck to watch him deny that it was a crush, but he’s been head over heels for you as long as I’ve known him. You steady him, and I like that, he needs that. Roz, I’m very happy for you. I always thought you’d just float around forever, you needed someone like Shane and I’m glad even in denial, he was always there. Still pissed you left us hanging in Boston, but I get it, so go off and live your dream of being Shane Hollander’s trophy husband. Also, I’ve decided I like Hollander more, so if you fuck this up, I will help him hide your body.”

Ilya scoffs, but it’s tempered by the fresh tears in his eyes, “Fuck you, Marly.”

“Don’t be mad at me,” Cliff defends, sitting back down, “you also like him more than me.”

Everyone laughs at that and Rose stands up, “My turn.”

She laughs when Shane groans, “Oh no.”

“The day I told Shane he was gay, he also admitted to me that there was a guy he’d been seeing that he’d totally fucked things up with. So, like any best friend, I got him a stylist, helped him prepare an apology, and sent him off to Florida to get his man back. Shane, I’m pissed you made me eat all that breakup ice cream by myself, but I’m also glad it wasn’t needed. I’m also still a little pissed I didn’t figure out you were gay sooner or at least that you had someone, because I would have marched your ass back to Boston so fast…” Shane laughs, “Ilya, I don’t know you very well, but you’d better keep him happy. I know you already do, but I have to say it. He also better keep you happy, because you deserve it and I’ll drag him back by the ear if I need to. Shane and Ilya, I love you guys and I wish you the longest, happiest life together.”

“Ilyushenka,” Sveta says, in Russian, “your mother would be very proud of you. You deserve to be happy, let Shane love you. You have so much love to give, but he has so much to give you right back. He is the best choice you could have made.”

Ilya stands up to give her a hug, whispering, “spasibo,” in her ear, before sitting back down on Shane’s lap and kissing him deeply. Shane could translate most of those words, but he was sure that it meant much more than he knew. It was for Ilya, so he doesn’t ask further, just kisses Ilya back and wraps his arms around his husband. 

“Is it my turn?” JJ asks, standing with his empty flute. He takes a moment, making a show of pouring himself more champagne and splashing a little orange juice into the glass, “Ok, I only found out yesterday that Shane somehow managed to pull Ilya Rozanov. But I’ve known for months about Shane’s boyfriend. Someone I knew he’d been in love with since he was seventeen and just trying to play hockey. What I know about Ilya Rozanov is this: he makes Shane laugh, he’s the person Shane feels safest around, he’s good with kids, he challenges Shane, and he also makes Shane’s gross smoothies while complaining the whole time. But he’s never made Shane feel less, he’s never made Shane doubt his love. In a line up, I don’t think I ever would have pointed to Rozanov as Shane’s type, much less a viable option for boyfriend or husband. But I would pick Ilya. Everything I know about you makes you the perfect match for my best friend here, and I don’t know what it’s like to be either of you, or hide a relationship, or love. But I do know that if you managed this far, you’re sticking it out forever. I really don’t think there’s anyone more perfect for either of you. And the best part, I’m sure Marly will agree, both of you are so obsessed with hockey, you managed to marry it. Or the closest equivalent. Ilya, I can’t wait to get to know you better, I’ve got ideas and I think we’ll get along great. Shane, I’m really proud of you and thank you for trusting me to be here. Love you both,” he raises his glass again and the others follow suit. Shane puts Ilya next to him so he can stand up to give JJ a hug. He buries his face into his friend’s neck and whispers his thanks. “Of course, mon ami. I wouldn’t miss this, are you kidding me? It’s basically the royal wedding of hockey!”

The room erupts into laughter and Shane finally pulls back, mirth on his face and in his voice, “Fuck you.”

“I think your husband would kill me, actually,” JJ laughs. Ilya nods with the most serious face he can muster, setting off more laughter. 

“Ok, embarrassing stories about Shane and Ilya, who has one?” Rose asks once she catches her breath.

“Oh!” Cliff’s hand shoots up, “I’ve got one about Roz from twenty-fifteen.”

He launches into the story, Ilya laughing along with a beet-red face. Shane is sitting forward with rapt-attention, soaking up anything about Ilya from someone who’s known him as long, but differently than Shane. Those years that they wasted pretending they had nothing were an odd gap in their knowledge about each other. He eagerly lapped up any information about his husband in normal circumstances, and he suspected his and Cliff’s friendship was going to be built on a foundation of swapping Ilya stories and, if the way Cliff was telling this story was any indication, gushing about him like high school girls who liked the same guy.

Shane couldn’t find it in him to be jealous of Cliff and he didn’t know why, but he wasn’t going to question it.

When Cliff was done, JJ took his turn to launch into a story about Shane from his third year with Montreal, followed by a story from that time they went to Mexico. Shane blushed when JJ described losing him at some point, and he informed them that he’d disappeared to get laid. Ilya frowns at him, but Shane just raises an eyebrow and looks at him pointedly, which starts up a round of ribbing Ilya about his retired-slut status.

They spend the day swapping stories and laughing. Cliff and Svetlana go out to pick up lunch when the afternoon drags on, leaving behind Rose and JJ with the happy couple. Which just turns into them finding games they can play together on their phones, which leads to Cliff and Sveta returning to a room in complete disarray.

Rose is standing on the bed, phone held horizontally against her forehead and she’s screaming in JJ’s face, “George Washington! Is it George?? AHHHHH! FINE, I’LL SKIP IT!”

“Oh!” Shane jumps up when the new word appears, “Ok, this is that actor you hate for no reason!”

“AHHH!” Rose screams, scrambling to get the right name out, “Elijah Wood!”

“Time!” Ilya shouts and everyone groans.

“What the fuck is happening?” Cliff asks, standing near the door and sounding unnerved.

“Head’s up,” answers Shane. “It’s like charades, but you have to talk to help someone guess the word. There’s a timer too.”

“Uhhh, ok?” says Cliff, “Why is Rose on the bed?”

“It got intense,” says JJ. “Wanna play? It’s Roz’s turn and it’s funny when either him or Shane are up.”

“What?”

“Yeah, cause Shane doesn’t understand any pop culture and Roz’s pop culture is really random and they can read each other’s minds, so it sometimes goes well and sometimes it’s really bad,” explains Rose. “We have to do pop culture because if we do random words in any other category, they not only will win, it’ll be a really high score and it’s not fair.”

“Even if it is impressive,” adds JJ.

“No,” says Svetlana, “it is my turn, teach me.”

Rose hands over Shane’s phone and explains how the game works. Svetlana nods and takes her place in front of the couch. She’s not quite ready to stand on the bed. The game starts and they’re off. Ilya immediately starts trying to give her the word in Russian, but he’s smothered by his husband who calls him a cheater while whacking him with a pillow.

After Svetlana, Cliff wants a turn and to everyone’s surprise, he and Ilya communicate terribly, but Shane is ready with the right thing to help Cliff guess.

“What the fuck, Shane? He is my best friend, why are you two so good at this?” Ilya complains, slouching into the couch and pouting. Shane laughs and takes the phone for his turn.

“Well, why don’t we pick a new category and we can show them how it’s done?” Shane offers, “Would you like that, baby?”

The teasing doesn’t do anything except turn Ilya on, who sits up with a hunger on his face, “Da, prove we are best at this. I am ready.”

(They are the best at it.) 

Chapter End Notes

head's up is a real app and a real game. it's fucking awesome and i do imagine that hollanov spent so long not being able to speak publicly that they have their own telepathy (also, between them they speak at least three languages, as a polyglot from a polyglot family, they communicate the weirdest way that only makes sense to them)

Chapter 9: breath of relief

Chapter Notes

The rest of the season goes as follows: no one except the four people who were there, Farah, and whatever government worker had to file the paperwork and process the request to privatize it are aware that Shane and Ilya got married in February. Ilya wears his ring on his chain most of the time. The gold blends into gold and other than a few curious glances by the Centaurs, no one mentions it. Shane wears his on a similar chain while he’s at work, slipping it onto his right ring finger when he’s not. No one raises an eyebrow at it except a few people who complement his new jewelry. Hayden gives it a particular side-eye and asks Shane if he has any news to share. He just shrugs and tries to hide the way his lips tug into a small smile. He doesn’t miss the way Hayden’s mouth pinches like he bit into something unexpectedly sour, but he ignores it. If Hayden wanted to ask more questions, there was nothing stopping him except himself and at this point, with the kind of support he currently had behind him, he’s not looking for Hayden’s approval. Especially not when it comes like this, like he’s reluctantly holding himself back for Shane’s sake, like there’s things he wants to say but won’t because he’s afraid of alienating himself more.

So they remain at a stalemate regarding the Ilya-shaped elephant in the room.

He doesn’t tell his parents either, keeping up the ‘long engagement’ lie he told them. Shane hates that a decade of lying about Ilya specifically gave him the practice needed to talk around the truth. But he and Ilya made a decision together about their future and regardless of how much he loves his parents, this is their relationship and they will handle it as they see fit. Shane accepted advice in the past, but he’s not dictating his and Ilya’s lives based around his mom’s spreadsheets and ideas.

Around the end of March, Shane starts seriously considering another crucial part of his future: retiring with the Voyageurs. He describes the feeling to Ilya; waking up already filled with dread about going to practice, the way his eye has started to twitch when he hears words muttered under his teammates breath, the tense atmosphere whenever he enters a room, the lack of already rare invitations out. Ilya very haltingly asks him if he’s considered talking to someone, confessing when Shane asks that he’s been looking into therapists for his own suspected depression. (They both end up in bed in tears and calling out of practice the next day to recover from the very long, very emotional conversation.)

After the Centaurs are eliminated in the first round of the playoffs, Ilya, with Shane’s blessing, comes out to his team. He whistles loudly in the locker room to get their attention. 

“Hey!” All eyes turn to him while the noise finally dies down. “Thank you. You all did very good job out there, I am very proud of each of you. Next year is our year, yes?” He cuts the cheers off preemptively, but with a grin, “Yes, yes. Celebrate later, I have news. I am telling you only part, but because I trust you and I trust this information will not leave team, yes?”

“Get on with it, cap!” Wyatt calls.

“Ok,” Ilya takes a deep breath, “I am bisexual. I am in relationship with man, is why I moved to Ottawa.” He keeps talking over anyone attempting to give a verbal reaction, “No, you cannot meet him yet and I am telling you no other information. We have been secret long time and maybe are trying to stop being secret.”

Boyle raises his hand and Ilya points at him, “Is that why you don’t come to team things that often?”

“Yes, I’m sorry about that. We are long distance, even once I moved, we are closer, but still too far and too busy to see each other as much as we like.”

“But that’s going to change now?” asks Bood, “Cause your boyfriend is invited to any BBQs going forward and we do want to meet him once he’s ready.”

“Maybe, in future, but sooner than original plan. Yes, I will introduce you,” answers Ilya. “There is big thing we are working on that we cannot tell you until it happens, but when it does, you will be first to know.”

It satisfies the team, who keep firing questions about what kind of man Ilya is dating, but he just shakes his head with a grin and refuses to give them any additional information about Shane. Just being able to come out to them and give them a better excuse for why he’s been as distant as he has been is good.

Montreal gets knocked out soon after Ottawa, with Ilya watching the final game from Shane's couch in his apartment with the Hollander’s. Shane gets a hat trick despite his team rather than because of them. JJ is the only teammate consistently defending him from the other team and it’s obvious on tv, so Ilya doesn’t want to imagine how bad it looks from the ice. In the end, it’s not enough and the Voyageurs are going home.

3rd best voyager: my whole fucking left side is bruised to hell and we didn’t even win FML

3rd best voyager: i hope you’re in town bc jfc the room is BAD. he needs some tlc stat, and also therapy and also a diff team.

3rd best voyager: don’t tell anyone i said that

3rd best voyager: but seriously, hes a fee age t next season does ottawa do hometown discounts?

3rd best voyager: *free agent.

3rd best voyager: are uou interested in retiring and becoming his trophy wife so he can play without taking a paycut?

Shane’s Lily: shhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Shane’s Lily: you know nothing about any transfers happening

Shane’s Lily: dw i will take care of him. Tell him i am at condo, he will know where.

Shane’s Lily: punch someone for me. Or tell me who to punch next season, they won’t see it coming.

3rd best voyager: you're a genius. I have a list.

Ilya grins down at his messages from JJ. He’s enjoyed getting to know this particular teammate of Shane’s, their outgoing personalities and immigrant-to-Canada statuses complimenting each other. 

“Texting Shane?” Yuna asks, noticing his smile.

“Hmm?” Ilya glances up at her, “Oh, no, a friend. But I’m going to go meet Shane now, if that’s ok. He needs…” he squints at his phone, “what is tlc?”

“Tender loving care,” answers David, “and you’re right, he probably does. Go get him and we’ll do family dinner another night, ok?”

“Ok,” Ilya says, “thank you. We will text later, yes? Stay in the guest room,” he offers, “I don’t think we will be back tonight.”

“Where are you staying?” Yuna asks, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You’re not planning on going out all night?”

Ilya freezes. Shane’s parents still don’t know about the condo he’d purchased just to hook up with Ilya. It had been the first thing he bought without his parent’s approval or knowledge and somehow managed to keep it off their radar for a decade. Once they’d become official, Shane confessed both this and that it was the one place no one could find him when he wanted to hide. Ilya had been a little offended that Shane still wanted to meet up in the sex condo and wouldn’t bring him to his apartment, but his (then) boyfriend had just avoided eye contact with red cheeks and mumbled out how Ilya was the only other person who’d been inside and he always thought of it as their space, not just a secret hookup location. So they kept it.

“Ah, I will see what Shane wants, but no, not out all night, promise,” is his non-answer. Before he can be questioned further, he kisses Yuna on the cheek, pats David on the shoulder and all but flees Shane’s apartment and his in-laws. He doesn’t want to know how Yuna will react to Shane hiding an entire building from her, or what Shane would do to him if he spilled the secret. Ilya also manages not to make a single innuendo on his way out about why he and Shane wouldn’t be returning tonight. Even without a second location, Yuna and David are still staying with them. It should be obvious what they’re planning and, Ilya privately thought, if a little thought was put in, they would come to the conclusion that perhaps they would get a hotel as to not have loud, raucous, celebratory (or in this case, the opposite) sex in the same building as Shane’s parents. There was a reason they’d changed the locks and codes on any residence the Hollanders knew about. Really, they should have done it after that first inciting incident.

Shane doesn’t beat him to the condo, but he’s only an hour behind Ilya, who stopped for takeout and a few extra presents for his husband on the way. He’s got the bath running and full of gently scented bubbles when he finally hears the front door open.

“Ilya?” Shane calls.

“Bathroom!” Shane wanders in and sees his husband hunched, clad only in boxers, over the side of the generous tub. “Welcome home, solnyshko.”

“Why are you drawing a bath?” Ilya can hear the exhaustion in his voice, the weary way he’s forcing words to translate into an audible format and make their way to Ilya’s ears. That right there is the reason Ilya is drawing him a bath.

“Because you need tlc,” says Ilya. 

“Who the fuck taught you tlc?”

“JJ,” answers Ilya. “You did good job tonight, but you are very tired and deserve to be appreciated.”

“What do you mean?” Ilya doesn’t answer at first, just steps forward and tugs at the hem of Shane’s shirt. His husband raises his arms and allows Ilya to strip him and situate them both in the bath, Shane’s back to Ilya’s front and his head rested back against his shoulder. Despite his confusion, the second he’s submerged in the warm water, Shane can’t help the sigh that escapes. Ilya runs his hands over Shane’s skin, stroking and massaging him into a deeper state of relaxation.

“I mean,” he murmurs low in Shane’s ear, “you are best goddamn player in the entire league, and your team would rather let you prove it despite them then show the whole world what Shane Hollander can do when he has a good team behind him. No, they don’t deserve you. You and Boiziau were the only ones playing game tonight. So,” he drawls, “I am going to show you how much I appreciate you. I am going to prove how much I love you,” Shane moans, eyes still closed, and Ilya lets his hand drift lower, resting it lightly on his husband’s half-hard dick, “and you are going to take it without complaint. I think you have enough to complain about, so you will let me show you, da?”

Ilya pulls his hand away, soothing a hand through Shane’s hair when he whines at the loss. He then takes his time to gently urge him out of the cooling water and dries him before urging him to their room. It’s been set up already with Ilya’s plans in mind. A large, soft towel has been laid out, which he pushes Shane down onto, climbing over him and layering kisses anywhere he can reach until he gets to claim Shane’s mouth. The kiss is deep, Ilya pouring every ounce of love he can into it. Licking his way in and trying to simultaneously suck Shane’s soul into his own and fuse them together permanently. Reluctantly pulling away, he gives the same devotion to Shane’s face, down his neck, focusing on long-memorized spots that urge the most delicious noises out of the man below him. By the time he’s covered both arms in kisses and compliments, strong arms, perfectly trained muscles, hands made for scoring goals, and made his way down Shane’s torso with the same attention, and past his groin to do the same down one leg and up the other, Shane is a writhing mess. Ilya only stopped to tie his hands above him when he was done with them, securing his husband in place.

“Ilya, Ilya,” Shane is begging breathlessly, “please.”

“Is ok, shhh,” whispers Ilya into his ear, fingers finally breaching his hole, causing Shane’s arms to tense and the long column of his throat to stretch deliciously within biting distance of Ilya’s mouth. Nibbling on his Adam's apple, Ilya works Shane open on one, then two, then three fingers, all while lathering attention on his neck and murmuring praises in both English and Russian, “So good for me, letting me show you how good you are. You’re perfect, my perfect husband.”

With a long press to his prostate, Shane finally comes with a cry. Ilya works him through it, keeping up the steady stream of whatever words he can find. Before Shane can come down, Ilya is readjusting and positioning himself to slide into Shane. He does so, eliciting a whimper from his husband. Bringing him to a second orgasm takes almost no time in comparison, Shane already on the edge from the cumulation of the entire evening. Ilya stills inside him, using every bit of strength to hold off his own orgasm while Shane clenches around him.

“Good boy,” Ilya praises. “That’s two. I think one more? Go for hat trick?”

Through the haze, Shane laughs, short and breathy, cut off with another moan from deep in his chest when Ilya starts to thrust. He avoids Shane’s prostate the best he can to give him time to recover a little. The third build is slower, but no less intense when Ilya starts fucking Shane the way he likes, hard, fast, and precise, following him over the edge this time.

Ilya uncuffs Shane, rubbing feeling back into his arms and legs as he lays each limb out on the mattress. He rolls his husband over onto a fresh towel and Shane buries his face into the pillow, already drifting off. Ilya has a different plan, and Shane doesn’t say a word when his husband readjusts his legs, spreading them enough to crawl between them and spread his asscheeks. Cleaning Shane out with his tongue is a favorite way to end their usual escapades. Sometimes, if Ilya is lucky, he can urge one more orgasm out of Shane. He’s gripping the pillow under his head and groaning in a way that is accompanied by the grinding of his hips into the mattress. Ilya grins into the meat of Shane’s ass, renewing his efforts and is rewarded a few minutes later. He takes the time to clean up properly, fetching a wet cloth and throwing it and the used towels into the hamper before crawling into bed beside his husband.

He thought Shane was already asleep, but he rolls over and sleepily wraps an arm around Ilya’s waist and pulls him in to be the little spoon. Ilya acquiesces, and falls asleep to the satisfied and even breathing on the back of his neck.

Chapter End Notes

ilya comes out to his team, but doesn't tell them about Shane. Ilya and Shane talk about the future and therapy! JJ and Ilya friendship! David and Yuna forget that their son has sex with his boyfriend! little spoon Ilya!

Chapter 10: summer camps

Chapter Notes

god, i've been working hard on two works i haven't even posted yet, but i promise i'm still making time to finish this and time travel. Once those two are done (fingers crossed) I'll be done with my other works so I can post them.

anyway, JJ and Ilya bonding a lil and hayden being a dumbdumb

As soon as they’re released to split into their groups to go over the individual plans, JJ beelines towards Rozanov, hand up to clap his and pull him into a bear hug, “Fuck yeah, man! Dream team here, am I right?”

Ilya laughs, “Fuck yeah. We will have best kids, they will learn so much from best player in league and third best player on Voyageurs.”

“Um, fuck you two,” Wyatt Hayes interupts, joining them. “What about best goalie on the Centaurs?”

“Yes, of course,” Ilya turns to his teammate, “Boiziau, you know Hazy, best goalie in east.”

JJ holds out his hand for Wyatt to shake, “Course. Anyone who can get a compliment out of this guy has to be good. I can’t wait to work with you, Hayes.”

“You too. The two of you seem friendly,” he notes, nodding between JJ and Ilya. 

“Ah, Hollander introduced us,” explains Ilya, sticking as close to the truth as possible, “at All-Star weekend.”

“Yeah, I went as a plus one just for fun,” says JJ. “We really hit it off.”

A piercing whistle cuts through their chatter, effectively silencing the room. All attention turns back towards Shane, “Ok, everyone has their groups and assignments. Kids will start showing up in an hour, so take this time to get to know the other coaches you’ll be working with. Once again, thank you all for coming and helping Rozanov and I.”

—

Hayden stands with the rest of the group of gathered hockey players that will be acting as coaches for the next two weeks of the Irina Foundation camps. Shane is standing with a clipboard in front of them while Rozanov stands next to him. Hayden wished he knew more about what was going on between them, but despite his best efforts, Shane had chosen to keep him in the dark about his relationship. At first, Hayden figured he must have crossed a line when he punched Rozanov and had attempted several times to apologize to Shane for it, but his friend wanted him to apologize to Rozanov, who Hayden will continue to swear up and down was at fault for the whole thing. But now he wondered if there was something else going on he wasn’t aware of. He might not want to hear about Rozanov, but Shane stopped telling him things entirely. It’s eerily reminiscent of when Shane was still lying to him, except now pushing him to open up only backfired. So Hayden was stuck waiting for Shane to stop being mad at him.

Hayden listens to Shane divide them up into groups, grateful that he wasn’t in Rozanov’s group and put out that he wasn’t in Shane’s either. He watches JJ go and stand next to Rozanov, shouting his glee and embracing him enthusiastically. The two lean in to whisper conspiratorially while he makes his way over to stand in his group with Boodram from the Centaurs.

“Hey,” he says and receives his own welcome from the group. Hayden puts his attention back on Shane. His group is gathered and Shane isn’t paying attention to them, still reviewing the clipboard and handing out last minute instructions. A loud laugh distracts him and when he looks towards the source, he sees JJ leaning on an equally gleeful Rozanov, doubled over in laughter with Hayes. Something shoots through him at the sight and he wonders when JJ decided that he would be friendly with Rozanov. They look like they’ve been friends for years. A glance at Shane tells him that it’s either not registering to his distracted best friend or he already knows and doesn’t care. Hayden would have heard if JJ found out about the relationship, he’s not great at keeping secrets and JJ’s desire to get Shane into a happy relationship is an open one amongst the Voyageurs. JJ wouldn’t have let Shane off the hook if he found out what kind of person Shane attached himself to, this Hayden is sure of, so he’s back to square one about JJ’s sudden friendliness with the asshole. 

Later, when they’re wrapping up the day, after the kids have gone home, Hayden finds himself putting equipment away at the same time JJ enters the equipment room to do the same. He gives Hayden a lazy smile, “Good day today, huh?”

“Yeah,” Hayden returns. “Glad I wasn’t stuck with Rozanov all day.”

“Naw, he’s great. Really funny and good with the kids,” JJ says. He’s got an eyebrow crooked at Hayden like he’s in on something Hayden isn’t.

“Yeah, I saw you guys laughing it up,” he says back, petulance entering his tone. “When did you decide that?”

JJ shrugs, “Listen man, this might be a hockey camp, but we’re leaving all that hockey shit for the season. Roz is a good person and if you spent any time with him, I think you’d get that.”

Hayden scoffs, “Really? You too? First Shane becomes friends with the guy, now you’re all aboard the Rozanov train too?”

“Yeah, Hayd, I’m on the Rozanov train,” JJ says, voice hardening. “You don’t have to like him, but keep whatever attitude this is out of the camps. If you ruin this for Shane, I promise you’ll have like twelve people after your ass.”

“What the fuck? Is that a fucking threat?”

“No,” JJ laughs, “it’s me promising that this is bigger than whatever bullshit you’ve bought into about Rozanov.”

“What bullshit!?” Hayden exclaims, “He’s an asshole, always has been! I get it, he’s doing a good thing by starting this charity with Shane, but I don’t know why everyone’s sucking his dick all of a sudden. He’s the same guy we’ve always known, why am I crazy for being the only one to see it?”

He doesn’t notice when JJ’s face goes still, rearranging itself to be as neutral as possible. Without a word, JJ nods at him, turns, and walks out of the equipment room. He throws a casual, “See you tomorrow, Pike,” behind him as he goes and doesn’t bother catching the door before it slams loudly, leaving Hayden alone in the room.

JJ stalks away, pissed beyond belief at his teammate. If he had stayed, tried to talk sense into Hayden, or tried to defend Shane or Ilya, he would have said something he’d regret or couldn’t take back. Hayden didn’t know that JJ knew about their relationship and JJ didn’t want to reveal that little tidbit, even if it would be satisfying to see Pike’s face when he learns that he’s not the only one who knows. Not just that, the fact that Shane trusted JJ with the information, when Pike had only learned about it because of a stupid joke. Then to be shut down when he proved Shane couldn’t trust him with the secret. He wanted to believe that Hayden would come around to the idea of Shane and Ilya, but it was more likely that he’d be as blindsided as the rest of the world when they finally got to come out. 

3rd best voyager: why the fuck does pike hate you so much

Shane’s Lily: a lot of reasons. why?

3rd best voyager: he’s a dick

Shane’s Lily: i know. I think he is upset that Shane picked me over him

3rd best voyager: that makes sense. he’s always been territorial about Shane.

3rd best voyager: he said he doesn’t know why everyone is sucking your dick all of a sudden

Shane’s Lily: ? only Shane is sucking my dick

3rd best voyager: he was being gross about everyone suddenly liking you

Shane’s Lily: oh 

3rd best voyager: yeah. i dont know if he was being homophobic, but i walked away before i said something i regret

Shane’s Lily: he is jealous no one is sucking his dick

Shane’s Lily: especially Shane

3rd best voyager: i just snorted water out of my nose you cant say that

Shane’s Lily: is true

3rd best voyager: one day, when it wont get you in trouble, i want to watch you say that to his face

Shane’s Lily: only if you secretly record it so i have it forever

3rd best voyager: deal

3rd best voyager: do you guys have plans tonight?

Shane’s Lily: i am sucking dick

3rd best voyager: well i’m going out, but have fun!

Shane’s Lily: we will. see you tomorrow.

—

Hayden scrolls, hoping for any clue that will help him figure out what’s going on with Shane and why his best friend is pulling away more and more. His texts don’t reveal anything of substance, which might be exactly the issue. Shane never tells him about important things anymore, not since he’d lost control and punched Hayden, promising additional violence if he showed up to the foundation’s press conference. That’s of note, Shane doesn’t throw punches when he’s upset. Sure, Hayden’s seen Shane defend himself on the ice, but in other circumstances? Shane isn’t like that, but Hayden knows who is. It adds to his hypothesis that Rozanov is behind Shane’s change in behavior. Before Rozanov, Shane never would have presented an ultimatum. He never would have barred Hayden from attending an event to support him. 

And for the next two weeks, Hayden hardly has time to say good morning to Shane, much less find the time to talk to him about something that wasn’t camp related. He’s not sure if it’s on purpose or not. Sure, any time he approaches Shane, his friend has a frantic energy surrounding him and Shane will brush him off with, “Not right now, Hayd.”

But he also has to watch Rozanov get close, lean in a whisper in Shane’s ear to make him blush during drills or between activities. It’s distracting enough to watch the pair while knowing what he does–despite Shane telling him to forget and how desperately he wishes he could–not to mention the distraction that is Rozanov himself skating between groups, injecting himself to speak to the kids or offer advice to his fellow coaches. 

And now JJ has decided the asshold can’t be that bad. It’s been a day and he’s already losing allies. The conversation they had was odd, but when Hayden reviews it, he can’t quite put his finger on if JJ’s figured it out or not. He wonders if there’s a way to ask JJ without revealing the relationship. Shane’s still mad enough to be pushed over into pissed if Hayden drops the bomb on someone, even if that someone is JJ. Not to mention whatever Rozanov will do to him for letting the cat out of the bag, and for upsetting Shane. 

He groans and turns his phone off. Rolling over, Hayden buries his face in his pillow, careful not to wake Jackie with the movement. He could at least ask JJ how trying to find Shane a date is going. 

—

Ilya snorts at his phone, shooting a text back to JJ before rolling on top of his husband. “You’ll never believe what happened today.”

Shane raises an eyebrow, not looking away from his phone until Ilya plucks it out of his hands and tosses it to the other side of the bed. “Fine, I’ll bite. What happened today?”

Ilya grins, “Pike asked JJ today if he found you a boyfriend.”

“What?” Shane furrows his eyebrows. 

“Pike asked how his search is going. To find you a boyfriend.”

“Hayden asked JJ how his blind date attempts were going?” Ilya shrugs. “Hayden Pike, who–despite what I said–knows I have a partner, asked JJ if he was having success setting me up on dates with other men?”

“Yes, look.” Ilya pulls up his messages with JJ.

“Who’s the second best Voyager?” Shane asks, distractedly while he scrolls through the conversation.

“Bill.”

Shane looks up, “The janitor?”

“He is nice.”

“Ok, weirdo,” Shane says, returning to Ilya’s texts. “I can’t believe him. God, I’m so fucking glad I told JJ.”

“Me too,” says Ilya. “Pike talked to him today at camps.”

“I see that,” Shane murmurs, glaring at the messages. “Fuck, he can’t stop, can he?”

“He does not like me.”

“Yeah, but I thought he liked me.”

Ilya shrugs, “He thinks he does. Is why he is trying to break us up.”

“Fucking, fuck,” Shane turns off Ilya’s phone and tosses it near his. “He doesn’t trust me to make my own choices. Fuck him. Fuck…”

Biting into the thigh nearest his teeth, Ilya bats his eyelashes up at his husband, “Do you want distraction?”

Shane threads his fingers through Ilya’s curls and smirks, “I think you should remind me why I married you, instead of taking Hayden up on his poor match making. Think, I could have ended up with a boring personal trainer named Dave.”

With a growl, Ilya pounces.

Chapter 11: blurring lines

Chapter Notes

i plagiarized myself again... but it's like a small, cute, domestic scene and not like plot load-bearing, so it's fine. also, tentative chapter count. i'm working on the last two and then this work is complete! My goal is to have this work, TTDGYOOP, and it's mine alone to disgrace done by the end of the month. fingers crossed!

After the camps wrap, Shane is about done interacting with people, adults and children alike, and is ready to lock him and his husband in their cottage for a month.

So he does. He makes it clear that he doesn’t want to be bothered until the season starts and that he will be ignoring his phone for the most part, so unless there’s an emergency, don’t expect a text back. Hayden grumbles, but gives him a thumbs up, JJ salutes with a wink, Cliff sticks his tongue out at Shane, and his parents exchange a look that Shane has no energy to decipher. 

Shane hasn’t felt this relaxed in months, he realizes, once he and Ilya are settled in. In fact, he’s starting to realize that the only time he feels his shoulders loosen and his jaw unclench is when he’s with Ilya, which is few and far between outside of their summers. The thought sits with him, not uncomfortably, just ever-present in his mind. It keeps him awake longer into the night as he ruminates. He feels similar to that first summer, when he was trying to figure out how all the puzzle pieces fit together to get Ilya closer.

—

Shane gets back from his morning run to find a quiet cottage. Preparing a smoothie takes minutes, and he goes in search of his husband. What he finds instead is a sticky note stuck to his current book that says went for a swim, love ))

He smiles, swiping the book and turning back towards the back door, stopping to put the sticky note on the fridge, secured with a magnet next to the polaroids.

Ilya is doing a handstand when Shane gets to the dock, when he comes up for air he says, “Shane!”

“You’re gonna hit your head.” Shane retorts, half-serious, setting his towel and book on the chair he keeps down here. Ilya groans. 

“Is fine, solynishko. I am not down here long.” Ilya swims closer to the dock, “Come here, gimme kiss.”

“Are you just going to pull me in?” Shane stays back, hands on hips. The playful smirk gives the game away. “If I promise to get in the water later, will you wait until I have my smoothie?”

Ilya pretends to contemplate the idea, before pushing himself up and making kissy faces at Shane. He walks forward, stopping short of his husband and leans down to peck his lips. “Do you want a sip?”

He holds out his smoothie for a taste, “There’s actually fruit in here.”

Ilya takes a loud slurp from the straw, “Hmm. Good, I like it.”

Shane kisses him again and retreats to read his book on the deck chair. Ilya launches himself back into the water and continues his play. 

When Shane does strip his shirt and jump into the water, it’s a moment when Ilya’s back is turned. Shane pops out of the water and immediately starts swimming away from his husband. Ilya converges on him like a shark, wrapping them together. 

“Ilya, let go.”

“Neyt. You splashed me.”

“You splash me all the time.”

Ilya lets go, “We race, there and back.”

Shane raises an eyebrow, “Where and back?”

Ilya just shrugs and takes off. 

“Cheater!” Shane takes off after him for a minute before stopping and deciding to turn around. Two can play at that game. 

Ilya catches up to him just before he can hit the dock, dragging him backwards by the waist. 

“Who is cheater now?” he growls, to Shane’s laughter. Ilya scoops his husband into his arms, bridal style, and carries them up around the dock to the shoreline and around to Shane’s abandoned chair. 

“Come on, put me down.” Ilya does. Shane gathers his stuff. “I skipped my morning yoga.”

“Oh, yes. You go do yoga, I will watch.”

“You could do yoga with me, you know.”

“Why? When I can watch sexy husband instead?” Shane tries to dodge Ilya’s attempt to feel up his ass, heading in the direction of the cottage, Ilya giving chase. He catches his husband around the waist, using the momentum to spin him around and away from the sliding door which he was seconds away from reaching. Shane lets himself be manhandled, laughing the whole time. Ilya is growling in Russian in his ear, arms tightening around him, pinning his arms to his chest. 

“Let me go,” Shane squirms, “I need to do my yoga–”

“But I have another idea for your… flexibility,” Ilya croons in his ear. 

Shane relaxes, leaning back into Ilya, “Hmmm, what ideas?”

—

Shane is facedown, moaning into the pillow every time Ilya hits his prostate. Ilya’s pace doesn’t change, thrusting hard and fast into his husband, praise spilling from his lips with each thrust. Shane feels his orgasm building, despite the cock ring snug around his dick. It’s right–

Knockknockknockknock

Someone’s at the door. Shane groans in annoyance at the interruption. Ilya, too, stills, buried deep in Shane, “Are you expecting someone?”

Shane whines, annoyed, “No.”

“Maybe they will go away,” Ilya suggests with another punctuated thrust. Shane is too deep in his mind to form many coherent thoughts, but he does have an idea about who is knocking.

“It’s, hah, it’s my parents,” Shane forces out, voice muffled by the pillow. Ilya stops the slow grinding of his hips.

“What?”

“Check your phone, or mine, see if anyone texted,” Shane instructs. He’s positive about who’s outside right now. Unless one of their friends had texted and showed up in the last hour, there’s only two people close enough to just swing by. Ilya reaches over to Shane’s nightstand, where, on his phone, is a single text from Yuna informing them that she’s stopping by with some things to discuss. Nothing else, just her wanting to review a few summer deals with Shane in person, where it’s harder for him to turn her down. Ilya reads the text out and Shane groans. And it’s not a sexy groan either, it’s a my-mother-showed-up-unannounced-while-I-was-having-sex groan.

“Ignore it,” he says. Ilya hesitates, but Shane reaches back to grab Ilya’s ass, pulling him close so his dick nudges Shane’s prostate again, prompting a sexy groan. Ilya readjusts his knees and starts up a steady pace again. Shane moans, “I, huh, told her… fuck, not to bother us. Especially… especially not with work.”

Ilya doesn’t argue, just keeps thrusting, picking his pace up. The knocking eventually stops, but when it does, Ilya sees Shane’s phone light up with a silent call. Yuna tries to call twice more, but Ilya ignores it. He only freezes when there’s movement on the other side of the window. The blinds are mostly down, so no one can see in, but that doesn’t stop Yuna from circling the property. A noise close to their bedroom stops him. Ilya slaps a hand over Shane’s mouth to stop the whine that wants to escape.

“Shhh, solnyshko, we don’t want to be heard,” he comforts in a low voice. Right now they have the advantage of claiming they weren’t home, but if they’re caught now, Yuna will wait outside until they’re done. Shane’s eyes are glossy, but nods the best he can where he’s pressed into the pillow. Ilya continues the slow grind of his hips without pulling out. It’s torture for both of them, but they’re not world-class athletes for nothing. 

Eventually, there’s the sound of a car starting and the crunch of gravel. Ilya removes his hand and without warning, pulls out and snaps his hips forward.

—

Yuna: I don’t think you were home when I stopped by. Let me know when is good.

Shane stares at the text, coming after the one informing him she’s going to come over. The last part of the text, asking–no, telling Shane to let her know when she can come over is what Shane keeps returning to. If she had started with that, maybe Shane would be open to carving out an hour or so of his time to talk to her, but instead it’s a measure added on after. Because it’s still not about what Shane wants, it’s about what’s convenient. It’s about Shane Hollander. Setting boundaries with his parents, his mother especially, was something he was working on. He loved them, but even prior to starting therapy with Ilya, trying to draw lines in the sand was a tall order. Either he ended up caving, or pushing them away completely, and he craved a balance between the two. It would help if his mom would listen to him, not just listen, but listen. The more she toed lines or acted like she was exempt or like the intensity of the boundary didn’t apply, the more Shane pulled back, which only created a feedback loop of irritation.

Above all, it hurt. It hurt that when Shane wanted to talk to his mom, his manager showed up. It hurt that when he needed his mom to be his manager, she suddenly remembered she had raised him-blurring lines further in a way that made less and less sense to Shane. When he was younger, it was easier–letting Yuna talk to the people Shane didn’t want to, managing the deals that would keep him comfortable if things went south–as Shane got older there started to be a pushback anytime Shane wanted to take over some aspect of his career he felt was no longer necessary to be managed by someone other than himself. With no reason to strain the relationship, Shane retreated. But now he had Ilya, and standing his ground was a lot more satisfying when he knew who he was doing it for. His therapist didn’t think it was healthy to only stand up to his mother because he was protecting Ilya and was working on getting him to realize his own safety and happiness deserved the same care and attention. (Shane privately thought that was Ilya’s job. It was why they worked so well, too busy taking care of the other to worry about themselves. Ilya laughed, Galina did not. Shane was too scared of Emma to mention it directly, but she probably already knew.)

Shane: I will be available to discuss work on Aug 26th

It’s not entirely out of character, but it’ll raise an eyebrow. If Yuna wants to play this game, she’s unprepared to face her son. Against Ilya, Shane rarely uses his full strength, the fighting or wrestling half-hearted with the end goal of leaving Shane overpowered. Like Ilya, Shane has never gone up against his mother fully powered; he’s never had a need. Unlike Ilya, it’s not because Shane enjoys acquiescing control. It’s because he’s never had a reason to. Putting his foot down was rare, and because of that, usually heeded. 

The sheer volume of denials and new behavior parameters defining their relationship was creating a pushback. Redefining the status quo that had gone almost thirty years without change.  

Yuna: I don’t need a decision made. I just have some ideas for you to look over.

Shane stands and walks over to the counter to bury his face in his husband’s back, sucking in a deep breath and groaning louder than he needs to. Ilya stops chewing. Shane stays wrapped around him.

“Nothing,” he says. “I’m fine, I just need to not yell at my mom.”

“Ok.” Shane stays where he is while Ilya returns to his lunch, soaking in his husband’s presence and letting his mind run through several things. When he separates from Ilya, there’s another text waiting for him.

Yuna: I didn’t mean to bother you. It’s the off season, you’re not usually up to anything.

Shane snorts. Of course he’s not up to anything, that’s the point of his break, to not be up to anything. It helps balance the rest of the year where he’s up to so many things he can hardly breathe. 

Shane: I’ll look it over at the end of August. 

Turning his phone off, he puts it face down on the coffee table and returns to his husband. There’s no reason to be on his phone, so he’s going to continue to ignore it. Ilya holds out his fork for him and Shane leans it to bite it off the utensil. 

“Want to go on a hike tomorrow?” he asks. “Get out of the house?”

“Sure,” agrees Ilya. Shane nods decisively. 

“We can pack a lunch and I’ll show you a spot I’ve never shared with anyone.” Shane doesn’t mention that he can feel buzzing under his skin and if he doesn’t get that energy out somehow, he’s going to start clawing it off himself. If he does mention this, Ilya will look at him like he’s crazy. “I’m going to email Emma. I feel like I’m going crazy with my mom and I should talk to her about how to handle mom before I go back.”

Ilya nods slowly, “Ok. That is good, yes? Take issue to professional before it becomes problem.”

“I think it’s already a problem,” Shane snorts. “It was a problem when she said we shouldn’t get married yet. It’ll be a problem when she finds out I’m transferring teams. It was a problem before that, too. I just want…” he chews on his lip, “I want my mom back. And I know I shouldn’t be complaining–”

Ilya reaches out to tug Shane into his arms, effectively cutting him off. “No. No apologizing, you are having rough time. Talk to Emma, yes? She can help make it better.”

“She can give me the tools to make it better on my own,” quotes Shane back at Ilya. It was something both of their therapists had drilled into them repeatedly. They couldn’t fix things, but they could help them solve their own issues. “What if it doesn’t get better?” Shane asks in a small voice.

Ilya shrugs, “I don’t know. But maybe we try to make it better first?”

“Yeah, ok.”

Chapter 12: one year anniversary

Chapter Notes

October 2019

Shane stares at Farah through the screen. She stares back, one eyebrow raised with a neutral face perfectly conveying nothing except a fascinated incredulity. 

“You understand the pay cut you’d be taking?”

“Yes,” answers Shane. “I promise I’ve thought this through. I’m not asking permission, I’m asking how to get it done.”

“That’s why you pay me,” Farah shrugs. “I’ll put feelers out, discreetly, and get back to you. Usually, Yuna would get involved—”

“No,” Shane cuts her off. “I’d appreciate leaving her out of this for now. I know she’s helped in the past, but it’s not part of her job.”

“Got it,” says Farah, making a note. “While I have you, I can let you know that your marriage license has been filed and sealed per your request. I’ll forward the email to you.”

“That’d be great, thank you.”

“Anything else?”

Shane shakes his head, “Nope. Thanks again, Farah.”

“Anytime, Shane. I’ll keep you updated on Ottawa.”

Shane closes the laptop once his agent hangs up their call, leaning back and sinking into the couch. As luck would have it, Shane is a free agent at the end of the season. Montreal is expecting him to resign for another eight years and if Shane’s life had gone any other way, he might have. But after the last year—his dying friendship with Hayden, getting married, the increased fighting with his parents, making new friends—Shane was taking serious stock of what he wanted out of his future. 

Did he want to keep playing in Montreal? Of course. They’d been his team for going on eleven years, he’d grown as an adult here, he dreamed of hanging his number in the rafters after he retired. But he also wanted his relationship to flourish, and the routine they had now, and were planning on continuing, wasn’t sustainable. 

Therapy helped a lot, his therapist helping him push the rigid boundaries he’d long ago established and never questioned or changed. One of those was sitting back and taking stock of what, exactly, would make him happiest while balancing what he wanted and ignoring how those decisions would make other people in his life feel. 

Thus the serious discussions Shane had with his husband regarding the sacrifices they were both willing to make (and had made) to make the relationship work. In the end, with Shane UFA status coming up, and combined with other outside factors in his life that could, admittedly, be improved upon, Shane was going to sign with the Ottawa Centaurs next season. 

Unfortunately, due to other outside factors in his life that could, admittedly, be improved upon, Shane and Ilya were also operating under the utmost secrecy. Only the two of them and Farah knew what was happening behind the scenes. The last thing Shane wanted—and Ilya and his therapist agreed—was for Yuna or Hayden or Montreal’s management to try and convince him to reconsider. Or guilt him into changing his mind. 

It scared Shane a little that he wasn’t sure if they’d be able to or not, so keeping them out of it was the solution. It wasn’t about his commitment to the choice he was making, but it was about being able to stand his ground. Right now Shane feels unmoored in the midst of accepting the changes happening and risking the crashing guilt if someone in his life makes a Good Point before he’s fully satisfied with where he’s going is something Shane wants to avoid. 

The sound of his phone ringing interrupts his thoughts. 

“Hey.”

“Hello, solnyshko,” says Ilya. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Shane lays fully on the couch, propping his head on a pillow to see Ilya better. “What’s up?”

Ilya rolls his eyes, “I can’t call to talk to my husband? See how his day is going?”

“Fuck off.”

“Ok, If you want me too–” Ilya makes like he’s going to hang up.

“Fuck off,” Shane repeats, “you’re always allowed to call me. I just wasn’t expecting you to call, that’s all. How is your day?”

“Fine,” says Ilya. Shane admires Ilya’s face filling the screen, tracing his eyes across a strong brow, down to his cheek, where Shane’s favorite mole to kiss hung out, up to a nose crooked just out of place, and down to his husband’s lips. He loved Ilya’s lips, kissing him, marking his body with heated, wet trails, wrapped around his cock, stretched to the side in that particular smirk that drove Shane crazy…

“What are you thinking about?” Ilya’s voice interrupts his thoughts. Shane blinks and finds Ilya’s eyes–sharp, blue, and Shane’s favorite part of Ilya’s face. He liked the way Ilya’s pupils blew wide, leaving the faintest ring, or when Shane watched them soften, radiating warmth and love. 

“You,” says Shane. And rolls his eyes at Ilya’s answering teasing grin, “I miss you, I was thinking about how much I love your face.”

Ilya bursts out a laugh, “You like my face?”

Shane scowls, “Yes, I like my husband’s face. Is that so crazy? Do you not like my face?”

“No, no, malysh, I do like your face. Very much.” Ilya’s smirk goes soft at Shane’s continued scowl, “Kotenok, I do love your face. I love all of you. I have told you how much I love your freckles, yes? Like little sozvezdiya, I can count them and kiss them and they are so ocharovatel'nyy.”

Now Shane is smiling, “Ok, I believe you.”

“Good, anytime, I will remind you how much I love you. And your freckles.”

“I love you too.” 

Shane takes the hoodie string he’s been messing between his fingers and sticks the end in his mouth to chew on. “When’s your next day off?”

“Next Thursday,” says Ilya. Shane already knows this—it’s in their calendar. Asking is more of a reminder. 

“Eight more days,” says Shane. “Do you want to do anything specific?”

“With our whole forty-eight hours?” jokes Ilya. “I can think of a few things,” he says with an eyebrow wiggle. Shane laughs at his husband. “I want to make that soup I like.”

“Sure,” agrees Shane, easily. It’s more time than they usually get, and Shane wants to make the most of it. Whatever Ilya wants, he’ll get. “I’ll pick up groceries on my way.”

—

February 2020

Because of the way the calendar works–and the NHL–their actual anniversary date was a week before All-Star weekend. It didn’t stop Ilya from waking up to a large bouquet of lilies on his porch with a small note on the morning of their first wedding anniversary. Happy one year. Lilies for my Lily <3 ~Love, Jane. Ilya smiles, snaps a picture and sends it to his husband. They both have a game tonight, so celebrating has been resignedly rescheduled. 

Ilya spends all of their pre-game time alternating between actually being the captain of a professional hockey team and texting Shane. His husband is complaining about the Voyagers, nothing that can’t be said to an opposing team’s captain, but complaining all the same. It’s the same as it’s been all year, and the way it’s been since Shane came out (in increasing incidents): cold shoulders, reluctant listening, behind the back whispers. And that’s just what Shane will tell Ilya. JJ helps where he can, but there’s only so much he can do as a singular voice. Pike is as useless as ever, complaining after practice about the guys behavior, but won’t speak up in the locker room beyond telling some of them to knock it off when they get too loud about their displeasure. 

Despite tensions, the Voyagers win their game, if barely, and Ilya considers it the least they can do as a late wedding present. Ilya’s own high from the day inspires the Centaurs enough to pull out a win by one point–an equally adequate anniversary present Ilya thinks. 

—

Shane loiters against the wall of the hotel’s lobby, waiting until he sees Ilya walk in. His husband catches his eye briefly to acknowledge that he’s there, and gets in line at the front desk. Shane pushes away from where he’s standing and heads for the elevator.

“Rook,” Scott Hunter greets him as the elevator door dings open.

“Hunter,” says Shane. “I see the retirement home is branching out with their approved off-campus activities.”

“You too?” Hunter groans, “Jesus, you two are really sound like each other sometimes.”

Seven years ago, a similar comment had resulted in a rather surprising fight from everyone’s perspectives. Today, happily married to the man that, back then, he hadn’t allowed himself to like, much less love, Shane raises an eyebrow, trying to ignore the frantic way his heartbeat picks up.

“I ran into Rozanov outside the hotel, he made a similar comment about retirement homes,” Hunter explains, seeing the questioning look on Shane’s face.

“Crazy,” says Shane. He’s willing the elevator to go faster. “Have you considered that you really are just old and people are catching on?”

“I’m three years older than you,” Scott deadpans. “You’re older than I was the first time Rozanov called me old. One day, someone’s going to call you old and then…”

“Yeah, but I’m young and hot and sexy,” counters Shane, suddenly feeling confident. “You’ve got skeletal cousins hanging out in natural history museums, we’re not the same. “

The elevator finally opens at Shane’s floor and he steps out, turning to give a bitchy little wave at Hunter as the door closes again, separating them. He needs to talk to Ilya about how on earth Hunter hasn’t pieced it together yet with all of the times he’s been close enough to gather clues. Also, they need to stop chirping at people the same way. Or using the same insults; it’s becoming obvious. 

Ilya ducks into the room less than twenty minutes later, having used Marlow as a smoke screen to sneak away. Shane locks the door behind him and lets his body go lax against it when Ilya’s mouth finds him. Ilya’s hands are pinning his hips, so Shane’s hands tangle in his husband’s curls, tugging his face closer.

“Happy anniversary,” Ilya says against his neck, punctuating with a sharp nip. 

“Happy anniversary.” Shane tugs his face up to look his husband in the eye. “Hi. I missed you.”

The lustful look doesn’t leave, but Ilya’s face melts into a gooey smile. “Hello, solnyshko, I missed you too. I also missed your dick,” he growls playfully.

Shane slides his hands to Ilya’s chest and starts pushing him back, walking them to the bed. Ilya strips his shirt and drops it on the ground; he scoots back against the pillows, pushing clothes off his lower half as he goes. Shane’s own t-shirt and sweats join his husband’s and Shane crawls over him, kissing Ilya into the mattress. 

—

The alarm reminding them that they need to make appearances today wakes Ilya, who silences it quickly and tucks his face back into his husband’s neck with a deep sigh. He mentally calculates the number of weeks left before Shane is a free agent and they can start planning his move to Ottawa. Not the team, though that is a reason to celebrate, but physically move into the house he and Ilya picked out when Ilya himself moved. It’s keeping him afloat during the harder stretches between seeing his husband.

“We have to get up,” Shane grumbles above him, but otherwise makes no move to do anything except lay there. They’d worn each other out last night with weeks of built up tension and the added delayed anniversary celebration. Ilya’s whole body was the good kind of sore and he was sure that Shane’s was in a similar–if probably worse–state. 

Ilya groans in response.

“Good idea,” Shane murmurs, fingers coming up to thread through Ilya’s hair, “We can just stay here and go back to sleep.”

“Hmm.” Ilya takes advantage of his position to nose along the underside of Shane’s jaw, finding a sensitive spot and sucking the skin between his teeth, eliciting a moan. Shane’s fingers tighten, but don’t push Ilya away, prompting him to suck harder. It’ll definitely leave a mark. Shane groans again, pulling Ilya up to kiss him. If he was trying to get out of bed, it backfires. Tongue in mouth, Ilya devours Shane’s lips. His arms come up to wrap around Ilya’s shoulders, tugging him closer so Shane can slip his own tongue into his husband’s mouth. Nails scratch at his neck and Ilya gets a hand between them to play with Shane’s nipple while grinding his bare hips down.

Shane throws his head back with another moan and Ilya latches onto his neck, kissing and sucking lightly. His back stings where Shane’s fingernails are still scrambling for purchase over healing wounds from last night, but Ilya stays focused on trailing appreciatively down to his husband’s dick and wrapping his lips around it. He wants to take his time, but he’s already pushing it with a quick blowjob, so he bobs his head and deploys every trick needed to get Shane off, all while grinding his own hips desperately into the mattress.

While Shane comes down, Ilya recovers with his head laying on his husband’s thigh, pressing light kisses into the sensitive skin there, trying to ignore his own twitching, overstimulated dick still trapped between his body and the rough fabric of the hotel duvet. 

“We’re going to be late,” Shane complains. Ilya pops his head up and slaps Shane’s stomach in the process of pushing himself all the way up. His suitcase has an extra outfit laid out on top for the express purpose of changing quickly into something clean. He grabs his clothes and heads for the bathroom to start the shower. 

“That is why we set early alarm,” Ilya reminds him. “I’ll go down first. You have time to shower and I’ll see you for events, yes?”

“Yeah,” mumbles Shane, pulling Ilya down for a quick kiss. Ilya showers quickly and trades with his husband who eyes the marks left behind by his nails with a mixture of pride and resignation that Ilya will be leaving like that. His own hips are starting to show off their own discoloration, not to mention the bruises around his pecs and under his jaw. With luck, he’ll take a hit to explain them away without boasting an actual injury. 

“Bye.” Ilya leaves Shane to his own routine with a last parting kiss.

Chapter End Notes

I'm having fun with the last few chapters, even if splitting up the work into equal chapters the way i like is difficult. sometimes i go on and on and sometimes i'm staring at the screen willing the scene to not end abruptly. but alas, i prevail. either way, it'll all come out.

scott's broken gaydar is everything to me. that man knows Nothing and i do believe that wholeheartedly.

Chapter 13: the simple, ugly truth

Chapter Notes

sometimes there isn't a fight. sometimes you just finally, explicitly say what you've been avoiding because you realize you can't talk around it anymore. sometimes you have to hear what you've been stubbornly avoiding confronting.

and yes, I think with a little work (and letting people's assumptions see and believe what they want) Shane can hide his move to Ottawa from his mom.

July 2020

Shane lets himself into his parents house. Montreal lost in round two of the playoffs and Shane spent the week Ilya was still playing packing up his Montreal apartment. It wasn’t completely done, but the essentials had been driven down to Ottawa the same day the Centaurs had been eliminated from the playoffs. He still had to wait a day for his husband to get home, but that only gave him twenty-four hours to dream up a few things in preparation. At some point he was going to have to head back to Montreal to pack up the rest of his stuff, but he could put it off for a few weeks.

Before they really got into summer and into preparing for Shane’s new schedule, he wanted–needed–to sit down with his mom. His Rolex contract wasn’t done for another year, and Reebok still had him for eight months, but the rest were only waiting on extensions, or on confirmation that Shane would do another campaign with them. Those companies were about to be very disappointed. Shane was grateful it hadn’t devolved into too much of an argument. He agreed to revisit his two remaining contracts again when the time came, but made no additional promises to keep them. That compromise had gone a long way in keeping Yuna from pushing. That, and that Shane was actually at the table discussing things with her, even if she didn’t like the outcome. The last thing was his move to Ottawa.

“You’re a free agent,” his mom says. Shane nods. “I know Farah’s been handling your contract, she told me you requested that she handle it all without my input.”

“I did. Say that, I mean.”

Yuna nods, “Ok. I know things have been tense this year, between us, so I don’t think I’m surprised. I just… wanted to touch base. Are you trying to negotiate a higher pay? Is management causing trouble?

“No, none of that.” Shane shakes his head. “I did ask that Farah handle my contract negotiations without you,” he says haltingly. “I didn’t want to give you the chance to talk me out of it before negotiations went through.”

“Talk you out of what?”

Shane hesitates, “I’m a free agent.”

“I know.”

“I’m not resigning with Montreal.”

“What?” 

“I’m not resigning with Montreal,” repeats Shane. “I signed with Ottawa. Four year contract, so Ilya and I are on the same timeline.”

“You didn’t resign with Montreal,” Yuna says again. Her voice sounds a little dazed, like her son just admitted to a crime and not that he was leaving the hockey team he’d captained to three cups and dreamed about retiring with. 

“I know–” Shane cuts himself off, “Ilya and I talked it over. Even two hours apart wasn’t enough long term, so I’m moving. That’s not the only reason; things in Montreal aren’t great and I promise none of the guys are that torn up about me leaving. Or they won’t be, except to call me a traitor. We want to live together, actually get the chance to be a normal couple, and this is what we decided would be best.”

“You’re–you’re moving to Ottawa,” Yuna asks. “You and Ilya have talked about this.”

“Yes, we have. Our relationship is more important to both of us than anything else. Ilya already proved it when he moved for me, I’m just repaying the favor.”

“You’re leaving Montreal to make things even?” Yuna sounds incredulous and a little accusatory. Shane doesn’t appreciate the note of it in her voice.

“I’m leaving Montreal because it’s best for me. Yes, that means my relationship. It’s also what I’ve decided is best for my career. Ilya didn’t force me to choose, he also wasn’t the one who suggested I move teams, but he’s thrilled to be living together. And he’s thrilled we’re going to be playing together.”

Several different emotions are at war on Yuna’s face, and she’s clenching her jaw while she searches for words. “Won’t this make it harder on the two of you?”

“No,” Shane disagrees, “If anything, it’ll be easier. Sure, we’re still not out and we have to be careful in public, but living together will make things easier.”

“What if something happens?”

“Then we deal with it, mom.” Shane sighs, “We’re not planning on coming out yet, but we’d like to settle down and then we’re going to review the rest of the plan. Maybe move a few things around. We know we can’t hide forever and we don’t want to. It’s been hard enough, so we want to come out sooner.”

“Just like that? I thought we had a plan, Shane?”

“We do. Ilya and I have a plan. We’re also revising that plan because it’s no longer working.” Shane watches his mom process the information. She’s not happy, that much is clear, but it’s also clear how much restraint she’s putting into not pushing Shane out the door with her words. “Look, I know there have been a lot of changes the last few years. I’m still processing a lot of it. But life changes; I can’t keep doing what I have been. Things have always been a certain way when it comes to me and my career, but that routine isn’t working. It’s not going to keep working, no matter how hard you try and force it. I’m sorry. I don’t–” Shane rubs his eyes, “I don’t like fighting. I don’t like keeping you in the dark, but sometimes I feel like I don’t have a choice. If I want any privacy or space to think things over or time to myself, I have to. Otherwise,” he shrugs, “I feel like I’m losing myself as a person. Sometimes, I don’t know who Shane Hollander is except a-a-a… product to sell. It was fine at first, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t, mom. I need to find myself, as cliche as that sounds.”

Yuna’s eyes have filled with tears, but her face remains set in stone. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. When she opens them again, she opens her mouth to try and speak. Nothing comes out. Yuna closes her mouth. Shane is sitting across from her. This is a business meeting, she realizes. Not a mother and son reconnecting. Yuna nods at her son, once, and stands. 

“Okay.” She nods again, more to herself, and tries any other words. Something to convey that she needs a minute. Needs a fucking month to process what she’s just learned. Nothing happens. “Okay.”

Shane watches his mother stand and walk away from the table towards the back door. His eyes don’t follow her. That would require turning around and his gaze is firmly on the opposite wall, holding back his own tears. Swallowing hard, he hears the click of the back door and he’s alone at the table. He could stay, wait for his mother to come back inside, continue their discussion, talk in more circles that hurt. They hadn’t fought. Voices weren’t raised. Just a simple, ugly truth finally being addressed. A cumulation of tension over years that finally snapped. The rose-colored glasses had been removed by both parties. 

Instead he stands up, brushing invisible dirt from his pants, and gently rinses his glass to put it in the dishwasher. No tears fall on his way out the door. Nor do they fall in the car on his way back to their house. Nor do they fall on his way inside, nor down the hallway to bed, nor once he’s curled under the covers and successfully hidden from the rest of the world. His gaze stays blank and forward, hardly processing the color of the wall, much less anything else going on around him. 

It’s how Ilya finds him when he comes upstairs from the gym. He heard his husband get home and was expecting Shane to come find him. When that didn’t happen, he finished his workout and assumed Shane must have done something else when he got home. Wearing his best pout, and still sweaty, he goes in search of his husband. 

The playful look is wiped off his face when he enters their bedroom to find a very still lump. “Shane?”

No answer. Ilya moves closer, climbing onto the bed and over to Shane. The blank look doesn’t do Ilya’s heart any favors and the moment his hand makes contact with his husband’s shoulder, Shane sobs. A shaky, shuttering thing accompanied by tears leaking out of his eyes and sliding down his face to be absorbed by the pillow.

“Oh, solnyshko, come here.” Ilya readjusts so he’s laying down when Shane rolls over. It takes some maneuvering to belatedly get under the covers, but he manages it and finally gets his arms around Shane. From the safety of Ilya’s arms and with his face hidden in his neck, Shane breaks down. He stops holding back the tears that have been threatening to fall for the better part of an hour. He stops trying to keep it all in, stops trying to rationalize, stops trying to understand and just lets it go. Shane doesn’t make much noise beyond the occasional hiccup or sob. Ilya doesn’t speak. He traces his hands over Shane’s back and arms, detouring occasionally to scratch at his husband’s scalp or to squeeze the back of his neck. 

“I told her.” Ilya hums. “I just finally told her that it was too much. That I didn’t feel like a real person… She already wasn’t happy about me moving, I think that was the final straw. She walked out. She didn’t say anything, she just walked out. I left right after. I couldn’t face it. I don’t– I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if we just need time, or if something just broke that I can’t fix.”

Ilya rolls them so that he’s fully on top of his husband, squishing him into the mattress the way Shane likes. “I don’t have solution, malysh. I wish I did. I wish I could tell you it will be ok. But I also don’t know. But I do know that your mom loves you. And David loves you. And I love you. And everything is different now, but those things won’t change. I promised even when it was hard, I would always be here, remember?” 

“I remember,” whispers Shane. “I love you too.”

“Good. It will work out, Shane.” Ilya can’t promise anything concrete, but he can promise not to leave.

—

Yuna returns to the kitchen to find it empty. She shouldn’t be surprised, but she allows herself to feel disappointed. An empty kitchen, reflecting how she feels inside after the afternoon. In one afternoon her whole life has flipped upside down. One could argue that she should have seen this coming, after all, it’s been over a year of Shane pushing back against her place in his professional life. But Yuna didn’t just get fired, she found out things she regarded as truth were false. She stands in her empty kitchen, looking around like an answer to a nebulous, unformed question will pop out. Yuna is unmoored, her email empty of its usual distractions, her phone silent without its usual notifications flooding in. 

She doesn’t know what to do. Literally, has no clue how to fill the current time and it occurs to her that she doesn’t know how to fill her time going forward at all. For fifteen years, her life has revolved around Shane and hockey. Now those things, the little, in between things, are gone. Out of her hands. Done.

Who is she without it?

That’s how Shane feels, a small voice whispers, didn’t he just say he has no clue who he is outside of his job? And Yuna feels a stab in her heart for her son. At war are the two halves of her. One that is desperate to reach out to her son, comfort him, beg for instruction about how to fix this. She doesn’t want him to feel this way, she never did. She did what she thought was best. That part also understands that it would do the opposite. The other part of her is still confused and upset. Shane is walking away from the team that drafted him. The team he led to three cups. For a team that only made the playoffs because they signed Ilya Rozanov. Who only moved to Ottawa to be with her son. Who is also moving to Ottawa to be with his boyfriend. Because they love each other more than they love hockey.

Yuna sinks into Shane’s abandoned chair and puts her head in her hands with a shaky breath. 

Chapter 14: friendships

Chapter Notes

JJ and Ilya are so much fun to write. I wish the fandom recognized the real frenemy situation is JJ and Ilya, not hayden and Ilya.

also, you know when someone starts picking up the habits of their partner? when hayden is mad/wants answers, he copies Jackie's pose, which she does to their kids and also to hayden, but he doesn't realize that he looks like a mom who just caught their kid eating dirt. he would be insulted by the comparison.

July 2020

He calls JJ and Hayden to help him pack up the last of his things. There might still be a part of him that’s pissed at Hayden, but it’s mostly faded into a dull bruise alongside the friendship. Shane will never be as close to Hayden as he used to be, but he can’t forget about the decade of friendship they have behind them, as tainted as the last few years have been. JJ is the only person he still has in Montreal worth being upset over leaving behind. But Hayden is still a friend, so Shane extends the invitation, hoping he can get a few good hours out of seeing him. At least JJ will be there, keeping Hayden from trying to corner Shane about Ilya. 

JJ arrives far earlier in the morning than Shane expected, but welcomes him inside nonetheless. 

“Is Roz not here?” JJ asks, looking around.

“Uh, no? JJ, did you come over to hang out with my husband?” JJ doesn’t have the decency to look sheepish.

“Uh, yeah? I thought he would be with you.”

“No, I came to pack up the rest of my stuff. He stayed in Ottawa.”

“Damn.”

“I’m sorry? No, fuck off. I was your friend first,” argues Shane. He flips JJ off and storms off to the living room.

“Boooo, Hollander!” JJ calls after him. “Fine, I’ll just call him.”

“What?” Shane pops his head back in towards the kitchen, but JJ is already on facetime.

“You really live like this, mec? Your husband leaves you all alone at home?” JJ teases Ilya who laughs.

“Yes, he left me behind, can you believe it?”

JJ tsks, “How dare he! Shane! Why do you leave your poor husband at home?”

“Fuck both of you!” Shane calls loud enough for Ilya to hear him. “Ilya, you told me you’d break out in hives if you stepped foot in Montreal outside of ‘official hockey reasons’ and said you’d shouldn’t be let around Hayden for his own sanity. You didn’t want to come!” Ilya must be pouting because JJ starts laughing at him and also Shane knows his husband. He points at JJ, “And you. I invited my friends over to help me pack because I’m moving to a different city and I would like to hang out with you. Instead you only came to hang out with my husband! Traitors! Both of you!”

He stalks off to the sound of laughter. Shane’s not actually upset, he’s thrilled that JJ and Ilya get along so well, even if it is annoying that JJ seems to like his husband more. Which he can’t really complain about without sounding like a hypocrite. Him and Cliff text more than Cliff texts Ilya.

JJ follows him into the living room eventually, Ilya still on the phone, but he sits down to help Shane assemble boxes. An easy conversation starts up between them and Shane won’t admit that having his husband virtually in the room is better. 

“I thought Pike was supposed to help out?” JJ asks. Shane looks up from where he’s consulting a packing list. 

“He is,” answers Shane. “I told you guys to come around eleven, it’s barely ten.”

“Are you finally going to tell him I know?”

Shane shrugs, “If it comes up, maybe. I’m not as concerned about Hayden knowing anymore. Maybe I should be, but first someone would have to believe him. And I’ll be in Ottawa anyway, plus Ilya’s seven layers of protection.”

“Can I tell him?” Shane turns his attention to his husband’s voice still on the phone. 

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to him?”

“Bah,” Ilya scoffs. “I want to see look on his face.”

“When what? He technically already knows we’re in a relationship,” counters Shane.

“Yes, but he thinks he’s the only person who knows,” says Ilya.

“Oh, as soon as I’m allowed to tell people I was at the wedding, I absolutely will record his face,” JJ chimes in.

“Yes, do that,” says Ilya. “I want video of his stupid face when he finds out.”

“Don’t worry, I was always going to send it to you.”

“You’re going to get yourself punched,” grumbles Shane, who can’t deny, but is loathe to admit it outloud, kinda likes the idea of seeing Hayden’s face when he learns he wasn’t invited to the wedding. Even spelled out by Shane and Jackie, he’ll have a hard time wrapping his head around the idea that Shane didn’t trust him enough to invite him, or that Shane didn’t want a party-pooper at his wedding. Because that’s exactly what Hayden would have done if he was invited–complian and try to talk Shane out of it.

“Worth it,” says JJ. “What’s that look for?”

“What look?” Shane’s look intensifies. JJ raises an eyebrow and grabs the phone to show Ilya his husband’s face.

“That is definitely a look,” Ilya agrees. “Shane, why are you grumpy?”

“I’m not grumpy,” he counters. 

“Maybe grumpy is wrong word, but your face is all,” Ilya lifts a hand and makes a claw at Shane, scrunching his fingers a few times. “Like kotenok.”

“Fuck off.” Shane caps his pen and sits back, “I was thinking about Hayden’s reaction to learning he wasn’t invited to the wedding. He’s going to freak out.”

“Duh,” says JJ. “That’s why I want a picture.”

Shane rolls his eyes. “How many times do you think Jackie’s going to have to explain to him that it’s his own fault for being mean to Ilya in front of me?”

“Shane, moy lyubov, it will be ten more years and Pike still won’t be able to admit he is wrong,” Ilya laughs. 

“Your husband is right, mon ami,” JJ adds. “Hayden is great, usually, but he’s not the sharpest tool. It’ll be Roz’s fault until the day he dies.”

“I hate that you’re right,” Shane complains. “But I can’t feel bad because then I imagine what kind of speech he would have given and I want to punch him again.” JJ and Ilya laugh. Shane stands up, “I’m going to start grabbing things.”

Shane is shoving a box into the trunk of his car when Hayden pulls up an hour later. JJ is inside being insane with the sharpie and labeling the boxes Shane finished. He slams his trunk closed and waves at Hayden.

“Hey, dude.”

“Hey, man,” Hayden greets. Shane leads him inside, explaining as he goes.

“JJ’s here already. We’re, well,” Shane faces Hayden fully, “I’m moving.”

“What?” Hayden asks. “What do you mean moving? Like houses?”

“No, Hayden,” Shane shakes his head.

“Sup, Pike,” JJ says from his spot leaning against the kitchen counter. He stole one of Ilya’s leftover cokes from the fridge and is draining the last of it.

“Hi, JJ.” Hayden briefly says hello before focusing back on Shane. “What do you mean you’re moving?”

Shane sighs, “I’m moving cities. I need you to not freak out, but you know I became a free agent when the season was over. I didn’t resign with Montreal.”

Hayden’s jaw drops, “You’re not… you didn’t re-sign with Montreal? What the fuck dude? Tell me you’re joking!”

“I can’t. I signed with a different team. I’m finishing the move this week. The transfer’s going to be announced right after the camps finish up in a few weeks, so I’m trying to get settled before that happens.”

“You–wha–Shane! What team?” Hayden stumbles over his words.

Shane raises an eyebrow at him, “What team do you think, Hayden?”

He shoots JJ a quick look, hesitating before he says, “Not– no, Shane, please tell me you’re not moving–”

A snort from the counter interrupts. JJ crushes the can and turns to Hayden, “You can say it, I already know.”

“You know?” Hayden asks with confusion.

“I know,” JJ confirms with a smug look. 

“You know.” It’s said with disbelief this time.

“Yes, I know. Shane told me like a week ago he was officially not resigning with Montreal. It was easy enough to guess he was moving to Ottawa, keep up.”

“No,” Hayden looks confused now, “I mean–wait, it was easy to guess Shane was moving to Ottawa? Shane, does he really know about…”

“Yes, I really know about…” JJ mimics.

“I was talking to Shane,” Hayden counters.

“Shane gave me permission to tell you that I know.” Hayden crosses his arms and glares. “I know about Ilya Rozanov and I know that he and Shane have been bumping uglies for a decade!”

“Jesus, JJ,” Shane puts his head in his hands. “People need to stop saying it like that.”

Hayden is gaping like a fish, “JJ knows about you and Rozanov?”

“Yes, JJ knows about Ilya,” says Shane with a deep sigh. “I told him I wasn’t resigning with Montreal last week because he was offered the captaincy in my place. Theriault apparently wanted to move on from me as fast as possible.”

Hayden continues to gape like a fish, “When did he find out about Rozanov?”

“I’m over here, you can ask me.” JJ rolls his eyes. “I found out, what? Two years ago?”

“Something like that,” confirms Shane. 

“Two years!”

“Yes, two years,” says JJ. He’s wearing a particularly smug look now. 

“Shane!”

“What do you want Hayden?” he asks. “You had your chance to get to know Ilya, and us as a couple. You didn’t want to. JJ did.”

“So you just told him everything? I thought this was supposed to be a big secret?”

“It was, so imagine my surprise when my best friend guesses about it as a joke,” Shane throws back. “And imagine my surprise when said best friend turns around and hates him so much I can’t even talk about it. Yes, I told JJ. All he needed to know was that I was happy, and I just wanted a friend to talk about my boyfriend with. You weren’t exactly giving Ilya a fair shot.”

Hayden turns to the other person in the room, “And you’re just ok with this? With Rozanov?”

JJ shrugs with look that says who gives a fuck? “He’s cool.”

“Cool?” disbelief coats Hayden’s voice. “Cool?”

“Yeah, he’s cool.” JJ crosses his arms. “I do like Roz. I like him for Shane and I like him as a person. I don’t feel threatened by his place in Shane’s life.”

“You can’t–”

“Hayden,” Shane speaks up, effectively cutting off the pissing contest, “I’m moving to Ottawa. Ilya and I are going to be on the same team. It’s something we both want. It’s happening. You don’t have to be happy about it, but I thought you might still like me more than you hate him. If you’re going to complain about him the whole time, you can just go home.”

He stands there, looking between Shane and JJ, weighing his options. “Fine. Fine, I’ll help you pack. That’s why I came, right? I’m happy that you’re happy.”

“Thank you,” says Shane. JJ catches his eye behind Hayden’s back, but he just shakes his head. Shane mostly directs his friends to gather things while he continues to arrange them in cardboard according to the labels. 

Hayden returns with an armful of spare linens and dumps them on the couch for Shane to sort through. “What are you doing?”

JJ looks up from his phone, “Texting.”

“I thought we were helping?” Hayden puts his hands on his hips and Shane really wants to point out that he looks just like Jackie when she’s scolding the twins, but keeps his mouth shut. It’s unfair to Jackie to insinuate her husband looks like an adult capable of parenting children by himself. Shane mentally pinches himself for the rude thought, but files it away to share with Ilya later. 

“I am helping,” counters JJ, returning his attention to his phone. “Shane, Roz wants you to answer your phone.”

“What? Fuck off,” Shane grumbles, reaching for his phone, which has been abandoned upside down on the armchair. “That asshole.”

“What?” Hayden asks, not enjoying being out of the loop.

“Ilya wants a dog.”

JJ looks up at Hayden and grins, “He’s at a shelter with a few of the Centaurs right now.”

“I’ve told him we can talk about it later this year,” Shane grumbles, sending off another text and turning his phone back off. “JJ, don’t encourage him.”

“I’m not encouraging him,” JJ defends. “I’m simply commenting on how cute the dogs are.”

“Why don’t the two of you move in together and adopt a dog?”

“Because if I moved to Ottawa, I’d break out in hives,” JJ deadpans.

“You text him?” Hayden’s voice cuts through the conversation. “You’re texting Rozanov?”

“Yeah,” answers JJ. “I probably text Roz more than I text Shane.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s cool?” JJ says it like a question, “Because he’s Shane’s partner? Also, I like talking to him. We have a lot in common.”

“Drives me crazy,” Shane mumbles.

“Fuck off, Hollander,” JJ grins, “I know how much Roz complains about you and Marly.”

Shane goes searching in his pocket and emerges with a middle finger for JJ, “Fuck you.”

“Marly?” Hayden’s voice pipes up, questioningly.

“Cliff Marlow also knows,” Shane explains, shooting JJ a look. “He’s one of Ilya’s closest friends and he already knew Ilya was bisexual, so we told him.”

Hayden is once again stunned into silence, “Ok, then.”

JJ laughs, typing something on his phone. “Shane, I’m stealing him.”

Shane looks up at the ceiling, begging someone for patience, “I love that the two of you get along, but I’d like to get laid tonight and in order to do that, I need to be on the road by two, please. I’ll break out in hives if I stay in Montreal any longer. Can we finish packing?”

JJ raises an eyebrow and, while maintaining eye contact with his friend, slowly types out another text and sends it. A few seconds go by before there’s a loud ringing from Shane’s phone and JJ slips his phone into his pocket.

“I’m going to kill you,” Shane says, ignoring his phone. JJ is desperately trying not to laugh, pressing his lips together and nodding. The ringing stops only to start back up a second later. “JJ, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

—

With the trunk firmly shut, Shane slides into the driver’s seat and starts his car. He’d done one last walk through, confirming there was nothing else he needed to take. The house would be put on the market next week, fully furnished as Shane had no need for the furniture. Hayden leans down to look in the window at him.

“You’re really doing this?”

“It’s already done.”

“You didn’t tell me.” Hayden’s voice borders on jealousy. Or maybe it’s a complaint.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why?” Shane sighs.

“You would have tried to talk me out of it.”

“Damn right,” Hayden says. “I–I’m just looking out for you. Rozanov is–he’s Rozanvov, and you’re just leaving Montreal for him? What about your career? What about retiring here? The seven cups you dreamed of?”

“Dreams change,” says Shane. “Plans change. I never expected Ilya to be a part of it, but he’s more important to me than anything else. Including, yes, hockey.”

“What about him? What is he giving up in this grand plan?”

“Are you serious, Hayden?” Shane is giving him a look that betrays his surprise at Hayden’s obliviousness. Or sheer stupidity. “Hayden, he already did all the big sacrifices. He moved countries for me. He gave up his ability to ever go home again, to see his mother’s grave. Ilya moved to Ottawa fully thinking we wouldn’t be able to live together for another decade. That’s what he gave up in this grand plan. Plus so much more I’m not telling you. This,” Shane gestures vaguely, “is the least I can do in return. And I’m doing it for me as much as I’m doing it for him.”

Hayden straightens and looks around, searching for something. “Ok, ok, fine. I hope he’s worth it.”

“I decided he was worth everything in two-thousand ten, before I ever met any of you. He was worth it back when we were almost nobody. He’ll be worth it long after we’ve both retired and they’ve got two new rookies to pit against each other for money.”

Hayden doesn’t have anything to say to that. “I’m going to miss you, dude.”

Shane’s jaw clenches, “I’m not dying, Hayden. I’m only moving. Really, two hours isn’t that much.”

The reference to one of Hayden’s lower moments regarding his relationship doesn’t pass without grinding teeth, but Hayden doesn’t comment on it otherwise. Shane puts his sunglasses on and buckles his seatbelt.

“Bye, Shane.”

“Goodbye, Hayden.”

Chapter 15: new year and new friends

Chapter Notes

Harris and Shane friendship is becoming as dear to me as Ilya&JJ and Shane&Cliff. i just think they have a lot in common and harris' acceptance of his sexuality while also being comfortable in his masculinity would really do it for shane in a friendship sort of way. shane's presence does change a little of troy/harris story, but not enough that they're not getting together on roughly the same timeline.
Disclaimer, I haven't read role model, so all my knowledge of Troy/harris is fanfics and tumblr and fandom wiki (yes i braved the website just for yall).

They’re not avoiding each other. But they’re also not not avoiding each other. David and Ilya still text and Shane speaks with his dad regularly, the way he always has. Anytime one of them has to go over, Yuna is mysteriously and conveniently nowhere to be found. 

Shane doesn’t know if he feels better or worse that his dad doesn’t say anything to him about it. He knows his husband and his dad are talking about it behind their backs. Not gossiping, just keeping each other updated. Ilya hasn’t said anything to him about it, so he assumes David hasn’t said anything to Yuna either. To be fair, he hasn’t brought it up with Ilya either beyond telling him what happened. Ilya hasn’t encouraged him to spill or asked him to apologize or to hear Yuna out. 

With nothing work related forcing them to communicate, they’re at a stalemate. Neither wants to be the first to reach out. Neither knows where the middle ground is and both are scared to try. In lieu of talking to his mom, Shane starts journaling at the bequest of his therapist. Incoherent ramblings never meant to see the light of day, Shane rehashes what occurs to him as it does. All those little details that escape him in the heat of the moment, when frozen in the face of confrontation, he writes down, he argues with the paper, he scribbles messily until the pencil isn’t making words anymore. When he’s done, he feels better, like another thing has resolved itself. One down, a lifetime to go.

The news drops and the Centaurs officially welcome him onto the team. He’s tight lipped about his reasons for switching teams, but no one pushes too much. Someone makes a comment about Roz being the same way when he first came to Ottawa. “But you’ll see we’re all really close here, not even Rozanov was immune!”

Shane doesn’t talk to his mom, instead he rests his notebook on Ilya’s back and uses it as a table to write out a chart: First Day on the Centaurs / First Day on the Voyageurs. Ilya doesn’t mind, content to doze with his face smushed against his husband’s abs, letting him air his swirling thoughts with both comfort and privacy.

The preseason has an energy Shane can’t quite identify. The team is clicking. They work together well. Shane has a rookie practically attached to him at all times. Reporters find every way to ask Shane why and Shane finds just as many ways to not answer. People want to know about him and Ilya on the same team. Will this impact the foundation? Was this planned? How does the rivalry affect this? How does this affect the rivalry? Are things tense in the locker room? We know you said you were friends, but that wasn’t really real, right?

He locks himself in their bathroom and almost tears the paper with how hard he illegibly scratches out how much he hates reporters and their stupid, asinine questions and all of their media related cousins: producers, photographers, directors, etc. 

Shane and Ilya receive zero ice time during the preseason. Not together, at least. Wiebe wants to keep their power play a surprise. It’s one thing to study someone’s gameplay for a decade and have the ability to mesh with that person. But it’s another to be married to your teammate, initiating near-telepathic communication while also being the two best players in your sport.

Objectively, the hockey is good and one thing that always connected him to his mom was talking about good hockey. Shane stares at his mothers contact for far too long, wondering if it would be worth the awkwardness to gush about how much fun it is to play with his partner. He doesn’t have to reveal the husband part yet. The date staring up at him from the last time they texted outside of the group chat causes a burning behind his eyes. He turns his phone off.

The season starts and Ottawa plays Winnipeg at home. They win. Shane still hasn’t talked to his mother. Ottawa gets on the road to start a winning streak spanning the east coast. Shane and Ilya room together. No one bats an eye. No one hears anything they shouldn’t. (Maybe a few suspicious squeaks, but it’s nothing worth investigating.)

Driving to work separately is more convenient than a real secret keeper. Ilya often has to be in early for captain duties. Shane likes to be early, but not that early, so he arrives later. It’s easier to split up after work on the days they go out with the team, or one of them does. Shane would still prefer to head back early and settle into bed with his book and wait for Ilya. Unlike Montreal, none of the Centaurs make him feel bad for this decision. In return, Shane actually enjoys showing up to BBQ’s and weekend bonding activities. 

They debated back and forth on whether or not they should come out to the team and when. They already knew Ilya was bisexual and in a relationship. If Shane’s arrival to the team hadn’t tipped any of them off, they obviously hadn’t made the connection. Shane still held a hesitance to come out based on past experience, even if there were positive memories associated with the same thing. So Ilya suggested something neither of them could resist: a bet. How long would it take for their team to put their relationship together? Shane wouldn’t come out unless an opportunity to mention it came up organically. They would keep hiding it, but they wouldn’t go through great lengths to do so or to explain away things like when they carpooled. 

So far, Shane was convinced Haas knew and didn’t want to say anything out of fear and Ilya knew Wyatt knew something and suspected Troy knew but wouldn’t say anything. 

Harris definitely knew.

“Hey, Shane, can I speak to you?” He nodded and followed Harris to the hallway. “So, I want to start with I don’t care, I’m not going to say anything, but maybe, if you don’t want to be caught, maybe don’t have sex in the parking lot. There weren’t any other cars, but I don’t always drive, so…”

A blush crept its way up Shane’s face and he brought a hand up to cover his face. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“I mean, don’t be. Just…”

“No, you’re right.” Shane lets out a mortified giggle. “Shit, Ilya’s going to win.”

“Win?” Shane removes his hand and gives Harris a little half-smile.

“We have a bet about how long it will take the Centaurs to notice we’re in a relationship.”

“What?” Harris yelps and immediately lowers his voice again, “What?”

“Ilya and I are together, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Harris repeats, motioning for Shane to keep going.

“I’m not out to the team, but I know he is. We’re still hiding it, but we’re also not being as careful as we should be around the team to see if they even notice or question it.”

“Oh,” Harris gasps and has to cover his mouth to stifle laughter, “Am I the first–?” Shane nods and they both break down into quiet laughter. “Holy shit, I won’t say a word, that’s amazing. Can I ask how long…?”

“You can, but I would rather you try and guess, because no one ever gets it right. Or they’re very surprised by the answer.”

“Fuck, Shane, you’re killing me,” groans Harris. “Fine. I’m going searching for an answer and I’ll get back to you.”

Harris calls him two weeks later and demands his address along with a shrieked, “Tell me it wasn’t your rookie all-star game. Tell me, Shane! I need to know what happened with that interview. So help me, we are sitting down and you’re telling me everything.” 

They sit on the couch until Ilya waltzes in and insists that they need to go to bed because it’s getting late. Harris leaves armed with the knowledge of how and when Shane and Ilya got together, filthy sex details Shane was thrilled to share with a fellow gay man who understood, a detailed list of what not to do when trying to date Troy (who Harris confessed thought Harris had a crush on Shane. Which dissolved into giggles and a game of smash or pass after Harris taught Shane the rules), a deeper appreciation for what hockey players could do in bed, and a new best friend. 

Laying in bed with his husband, Shane doesn’t think he can compare the feeling to anything except how he felt the night before his first day of practice with the Voyagers. He made a friend. All by himself. Someone who he wasn’t forced to interact with (ignoring that technically, yes, while Harris was something akin to a coworker, he wasn’t a hockey player), someone who he enjoyed talking to, who enjoyed talking to him, and someone who got him. Shane didn’t have any other gay friends. He hardly had other friends as much as he loved and got along with JJ and Cliff.

“Ilya?” His husband groans into his armpit, where his face has been shoved for the night. “I made a friend.”

“Da, Shanya, a friend. Now is bedtime, yes? Sleep time,” Ilya mumbles.

“I really like Harris,” whispers Shane. It’s not directed at Ilya, exactly, but his husband groans again and pushes himself up to hover over Shane.

“Da, I like Harris too.” Ilya closes the space between them and kisses Shane lazily for a few seconds and nudges Shane’s cheek with his nose, “Sle-ep, Shanya.”

Shane smiles and pushes Ilya back down and maneuvers both of them until he has Ilya on his side and can snuggle in behind him, one arm thrown over his husband and holding him securely against his chest. “Ya tebya lyublyu, Ilyusha. Good night.”

“Hmmm, night, Shane. Ya tebya lyublyu.”

Shane wakes up to an invitation to the Drover family farm from Harris. He still doesn’t call his mom.

In January, their flight to Florida is interrupted by engine failure. Ilya is slumped into Shane’s side, dozing while listening to whatever home renovation show his husband put on when there’s a jerk and a voice comes on over the speakers. Headphones come out of Shane’s ears immediately, his eyes going wide as the information processes. Ilya’s grip on his fingers tightens and Shane is bypassing his hands entirely to pull him close and wrap his arm around his husband. Ilya bends his head down, uncaring of what any of their teammates see. Shane and Ilya grip each other, foreheads pressed together, and whisper frantically in Russian while the whole plane shakes. 

They don’t let go of the other the whole way off the plane and to the hotel. A few teammates spare a glance, but the white-knuckled hand-holding goes unremarked upon. Some people go to the bar, others go to call loved ones. Shane pulls out his phone while Ilya collects their keys.

Shane: Ilya and I are ok. We just made it to the hotel. No injuries.

They silently walk to their room. Once inside, the energy is frantic, reassurance coming through in kisses and wandering hands. A need to trace the outline of the person they love the most and remind themselves that they’re both still here, still alive, still together.

Ilya breaks down in his husband’s arms, curled into his lap on the bed, while Shane strokes his hair and comforts him. When Ilya finally passes out, Shane calls his mom.

“Shane! David, it’s– yes, it’s Shane. Shane, are you ok? We saw the news then your text–”

“I’m ok, mom. I promise,” cuts off Shane. 

“Good, good. And Ilya?”

“He’s ok, too.” Shane looks down at the lump of husband in his lap. “It was scary, but we’re together. The team has a hotel and we’re all just trying to recover. No injuries–maybe a few bruises–no one needed medical attention. We’re fine.”

“Good, that’s good,” Yuna breathes a sigh of relief. “We were so worried.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” says Yuna. “I just wanted to make sure you’re ok. You and Ilya.”

“Thanks for checking in,” murmurs Shane. He’s holding back tears, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Shane.”

Another voice chimes in, a little further away, “I love you boys too!”

Shane can’t help the laugh that escapes him, “I love you too, dad. Ilya loves you guys too. He’d tell you himself, but he just fell asleep.”

“That’s ok,” Yuna reassures. “Let him sleep, it’s been a long day. We’ll let you get some rest too, ok? I love you.”

“I love you too. Bye.”

“Bye, Shane.”

Chapter End Notes

hehehe plane malfunction but if shane and ilya were both on the plane.

more on yuna and shane! we're working on it, but they're both avoidant and scared to make the first move. good thing a good near death experience will bring anyone together!
---
shane, laying awake, trying not to kick his feet like a schoolgirl: Ilya i made a friend. with no help. he's gay, like me.
ilya, who can't fall asleep bc shane is wiggling with excitement: please i love you i am begging you to go to sleep now.

Chapter 16: the truth, the beach, and the cup

Chapter Notes

franken-chapter because I refuse to cut anything and because my splitting it up gave me a baby chapter and a normal length one, but between splitting by word count or content, i'll never split content that needs to go together. so almost 4k chapter it is!

Morning means they arrive together for breakfast. Ilya squeezes Shane’s shoulder and reluctantly leaves him at the table sitting next to Harris to go get both of them some food. Shane almost doesn’t let him go, but decides that as long as Ilya stays in view, they can be physically separated. 

“You guys ok?” Harris keeps his voice low. Shane’s eyes are still tracking his husband in the hotel buffet line. 

“Yeah,” he says, not looking back at his friend. “Shaken up.”

“I get that. Fucking terrifying.” Shane hums. “You want to hear what happened last night with me and Troy?”

Shane twitches, like he’s going to look at Harris next to him, but his attention stays firmly on Ilya. A small smile graces his face and he tilts his head to indicate that he’s listening, “Of course. He doesn’t still think you have a crush on me?”

“I don’t know,” Harris says. “But we had sex last night.”

“Harris!” That does briefly turn Shane’s head.

“I know! He practically ran out this morning, so I don’t know if it was just his first time with a man or what, but I’m trying not to get my hopes up.” They’re lucky no one else is at the table, the rest of the Centaurs scattered around the hotel lobby are slowly forming a mass of hockey players. Shane and Harris are sitting on the outskirts of the group. Ilya returns with three plates laden with food and sets them down in front of Shane. 

“I got some of everything,” he says, also sitting down. “Hi, Harris. Have you spoken to Barrett?”

“Hey, Ilya. I did last night,” he answers. “We had sex and then he left this morning and I haven’t seen him.”

Ilya grumbles something in Russian under his breath that makes Shane snort and pinch him. “I will talk to him.”

“You don’t have to do that, Ilya.”

“Yes, he is being stupid,” Ilya interrupts. “I have experience being stupid about love, so I will tell him not to.”

“Ilya–” 

“Hey! Mind if we join you?” Wyatt appears to tower over the table. Harris nods and Shane gestures for them to sit. Bood takes the seat across from Ilya, Wyatt across from Harris, leaving the seat across from Shane empty. “Thanks. How are y’all holding up?”

“Y’all? You listen to Dykstra too much,” Ilya complains. “Shane, waffle.”

Shane rolls his eyes at his husband, but spears a bite of fruit covered waffle and shoves it in his mouth. A second bite gets loaded onto the fork and held out for Ilya to also take a bite. 

“We’ve moved on to feeding each other?” Wyatt asks, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline as he stares at his teammates. Bood puts down the strawberry he’d just picked up.

“You know, I wanted to ask about that,” he says. “Not the feeding each other, though Hazy brings up a good point. I mean the way you guys share deodorant and think no one notices. Or the way Roz won’t invite us over anymore, but I know you’ve been to his house.”

“We could talk about that time I roomed next to you in Nashville, if we wanted. I didn’t know a human man could make those noises,” adds Wyatt. He’s not even looking at the slowly reddening couple. Wyatt keeps his attention on buttering his bagel.

“Or how about the fact that you cuddle on roadtrips. You’re almost always sitting together in the back and snuggling.”

“Oh!” Wyatt points in faux-surprise at Bood like he suddenly remembered something, “We could talk about them holding hands right now.”

That finally breaks Harris and the peals of laughter burst free.

“Harris, stop laughing,” Shane elbows his friend. It overbalances Harris, who catches himself loudly on the table with his bicep.

“Ow. Sorry, I can’t.” Harris hides his smile behind his hand and uses the other to rub where a bruise is definitely forming. “Who wins? We’re only five months into the season.”

“I win,” Shane sighs. “Ilya thought no one would notice until playoffs if no one figured it out when I joined the team. I thought either we’d have to announce it ourselves to clue everyone in or you’d all figure it out by Christmas.”

“What?” Shane levels his own faux-surprise look at his teammates. 

“You tell me, I think you’ve figured it out.” He punctuates the end of his sentence by taking the bite Ilya is holding up for him without breaking eye contact. “Thank you, moy lyubov.”

“Pozhaluysta, dorogoy,” Ilya says, raising their joined hands above the table to press a kiss to the back of Shane’s. 

“Ah-ba, huh, what?” Wyatt’s jaw is on the floor and Bood isn’t faring much better. “I’m sorry? This is actually– this… what?”

“English, please, Hazy,” Shane requests. “Or Russian, if you can.”

“I knew something, I wasn’t expecting you to just tell us. Also, now I’m not entirely sure what I know.”

“I think,” Bood leans over to stage-whisper to Wyatt, “they’re confirming they’re in a relationship.”

Ilya nods, “Good job, Bood. Yes, Shane and I are in a relationship.”

“So, last year, last season, when you said you were bisexual and in a relationship with a man, you meant Hollander?” Bood asks.

“Yes,” confirms Shane. “I really thought you would put it together when I joined the team.”

“I can’t believe we didn’t,” says Wyatt. “So you two are really… Like, actually in a relationship?”

“Yes, a very real relationship.” 

“Wow.”

“Crazy.” Bood squints at Shane, “Hollzy, did Roz move to Ottawa to be with you? And then did you also move to Ottawa to be with Roz? Holy shit, the media’s been going nuts over both of you moving to Ottawa and you’ve given them nothing.”

Shane shakes his head, “We’re still keeping it a secret. At least for now. We want to come out on our own time, but we couldn’t keep doing long distance, so we moved up the timeline and, yes, I moved to Ottawa as part of that plan.”

“Jesus, that’s nuts.”

“So wait, Harris knew?” Wyatt asks.

“I saw them having sex in the parking lot,” Harris grins.

“Who had sex in the parking lot?” The rookies appear and settle into the surrounding tables. Young asks his question again, “Harris saw someone having sex?”

The man in question glances nervously at Shane who just rolls his eyes and nods. “Shane and Ilya.”

“Shane and Ilya what?” Holmberg asks.

“Shane and Ilya had sex in the rink parking lot and Harris caught them.”

“What!”

With an acknowledging foot tap from his husband, Ilya takes pity on their rookies, “Shane and I are in a relationship.”

“Ahhhhh,” Young and Holmberg point at each other with twin looks of understanding on their faces.

“Really?” Haas squeaks out, eyes wide. Shane tamps down the laugh he wants to let out at the look in Haasy’s face.

“Really,” he confirms. “We’re still not out, but we’re not really hiding that hard from the team.”

“So, how long have you guys been together?” Holmberg asks. “Cause, like, it’s crazy that you two are together, I can’t even think of when you would have started going out. Like, there’s the charity, obviously, but…”

Young picks up, “But that was after Roz moved here and there’s a lot that goes into something like that, so it has to be before that, right?”

“Yeah, then there’s the all-star game where you guys played together. That’s like, burned into my memory cause of how awesome it was.”

“I wasn’t even an adult yet! I wasn’t even playing professionally!” Young says excitedly. “How insane is that? Was it twenty-seventeen? Or before that?”

“Hollander dated Rose Landry before that, but it was only like two weeks, right?” Holmberg adds. Neither boy is giving anyone else time to jump in. Shane is staring slack-jawed at his rookies, akin to the way he was surprised by Cliff putting the clues together. “There was a lot of speculation on certain corners of the internet that Hollandry was a PR relationship.”

“Shane and Ilya played their worst games during that time,” Luca pipes up. “Statistically, the worst BOS-MTL game they’ve played against each other was during Hollandry.”

Young points at Luca, “That. So, I think all-stars was you guys getting back together, but I don’t have a guess for when you got together before that.” 

Holmberg nods along and Haas is desperately trying to will his face to drain of color. Harris looks delighted. Wyatt and Bood are stunned by the analysis that just came out of the twenty-year-old’s mouths.

“Where the fuck is that deduction when we’re reviewing tape?” Bood asks. “No, seriously, you can come up with that on the fly, but I have to remind you to tape your stick before practice?”

Holmberg shrugs, “This is more interesting.”

“Than hockey?”

“This is technically hockey history!” Young looks affronted at the insinuation that their captain’s relationship isn’t interesting. 

“Ok!” Shane interrupts. “Do any of you want answers? Or are you going to keep gossiping like teenagers?”

“Answers,” Haasy says quickly, slapping a hand over Young’s (the closest to him) mouth. “We want answers.”

“So ask,” Shane says at the same time Ilya says,

“Eleven years.”

The table rattles under the force of Wyatt jumping up, “Eleven!” he hisses. He turns to Bood, “Eleven.” He turns to the shocked rookies, “E-lev-en.”

“Eleven,” sighs Shane. He can’t help the small smirk and he lifts their joined hands to leave Ilya his own kiss.

“That would be, what? Two-thousand nine?” Luca’s eyes go wide at Young’s clarifying question.

“That was the year you were drafted,” he whispers.

“The… I’m sorry, the year you were drafted?” Wyatt clarifies.

“I think Ilya was talking from two-thousand eight, actually,” says Shane. “But yeah. We played against each other in juniors twice. Once in December of ‘08, then we were drafted in ‘09, then we played again at the end of that year. As the rooks pointed out, twenty-seventeen was a turning point. That’s when we got back together and decided that making a relationship work was important to both of us.”

“Is this the twilight zone?” Bood asks, looking around. “What is happening? I came over here to tease the two of you for being weird and slightly co-dependant for two former rivals. Maybe make a joke about Roz having a crush, but now I find out that when I was drafted to the Centaurs in twenty-thirteen, you guys were sneaking around behind everyone’s backs?”

“Uhhhh,” Shane exchanges a look with his husband, “yes?”

“Ok,” Ilya stands and takes the empty plates from the table, “enough questions. Wiebe knows, so you can tell rest of team if you want. Do not tell anyone else. Shane and I are going to go now.”

“Go? Go where?” Wyatt pouts.

“To recover from almost dying and convince coach to let us drive home.”

—

A text from Harris a few hours later lets the couple know that the rest of the team is heading to the beach to distract themselves for the rest of the day. He also informs Shane that he’s going to need help either cornering Troy or help avoiding Troy. Shane sends back a thumbs up to both messages and tells him that he and Ilya will be down in a minute. 

The beach isn’t empty, but it’s close to it. A boon of living in Canada’s climate–Florida in January is perfect beach weather. Shane settles onto a towel and stares not-so-subtly at his husband playing in the water. Harris settles down next to him to stare a little more subtly at Troy. 

“I’m surprised no one noticed the rings,” Harris comments. “How long have you guys been engaged?”

Shane pushes his sunglasses up to look at Harris for a minute, then settles back, “We’re not.”

“Not? Not engaged?” Harris sounds surprised. “Sorry, just the matching rings– Shane Hollander, are you married?”

“I’m not technically allowed to confirm or deny,” says Shane.

“Oh my god, how long?” Shane shakes his head.

“We eloped,” he explains. “There are some important people who don’t know we’re married, who still think we’re engaged, and a few who don’t even know that much. We’re keeping that securely under wraps for now, so don’t mention it.”

“Booo, Hollander,” says Harris, but he settles back onto his own towel. “But fine. I won’t ask.”

“It’s not anything against anyone,” Shane sighs. “The only people who know are the few of our friends who we trusted to be there. Ilya and I decided that if people ask, we’re only saying we’re together, not that we’re married. We don’t want that news to get out before we’re ready.”

“That makes sense. But I’m still sad I didn’t get to go.”

“Harris, you didn’t even know me then.”

“But I did know Ilya?” Harris asks with a teasing grin. Shane can’t help but return it and flail a hand to slap his friend playfully resulting in laughter. “Ok, ok. Fuck.”

“What?” Shane scrunches his forehead in confusion over Harris’ change in attitude.

“Troy was just looking over here,” says Harris. “Don’t look!”

Shane belatedly snapped his head back to Harris before Troy could catch him looking. “Sorry. Why are you freaking out? Don’t you want him to look?”

“Yeah, but he’s got that grouchy face on.” Harris groans, “Fuck, I don’t know if anyone told him you and Ilya are together.”

“So he’s jealous?” Shane asks, sneaking a look over his sunglasses and out of the corner of his eye. “Sorry, wasn’t he the one that ran away after you two hooked up? Why is he jealous of me?”

Harris laughs, “Shane–”

“What?”

“Shane,” Harris covers his mouth with his hand, “you do know that you’re Shane Hollander, right? Of course he’s jealous. I don’t think a single gay man in the last decade hasn’t had a crush on you. Actually, there are probably plenty of straight men who would go gay just for you. Ask me how I know.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

Harris raises an eyebrow, “I’m being serious. I don’t know if Troy is jealous of you for talking to me, or of me for talking to you.”

Shane risks a glance over his shoulder and sees that Troy has joined the game of beach volleyball Bood roped everyone into with Ilya’s help. He can tell that Ilya is showing off for him, but he can also see that Troy is showing off. “I think he’s showing off for you.”

“Huh?” Harris leans to look around Shane. “He does look good.”

“Ilya’s showing off,” Shane says, not tearing his eyes from his husband. “He knows what it does to me.”

“The sweaty muscles and the short shorts?” Harris hums. “Yeah, Troy’s back looks insane. And those shorts. Yum.”

Shane giggles and hides a snort in his shoulder, “I didn’t know Ilya knew how to play volleyball.”

“Hmmm, do you know how to play volleyball?”

“Nope,” Shane pops the p, “but whatever Ilya’s doing, I think he’s winning, so…” They exchange an understanding look, “Yum.” 

He catches Ilya’s eye and waves. Ilya grins back and is promptly yelled at by his teammates to focus on the game and not his boyfriend. Shane raises an eyebrow when Troy’s head whips around to look at where he’s sitting with Harris, making eye contact with Shane. From the distance, and with the sun high in the sky, Shane can’t quite tell if the cherry color is from the heat of the day or if Troy is blushing, but he nudges Harris and leans in to whisper, “Lean in towards me. He can’t hear us, but I think he’s trying to figure out if the boys are being serious about Ilya. He’s blushing, it’ll make him more jealous.”

Harris ducks his head, but keeps shooting Troy glances out of the corner of his eye, “He’s blushing? Do we want to make him jealous?”

“In my experience,” Shane murmurs back, “jealousy sex is hot. When he just loses control and takes what he knows is his… mmhmn.”

“Oh?”

“Yup.” 

“Hot.”

“Yup.” The duo break down into more laughter. 

Ilya watches his husband bond with Harris. The two had really become good friends over the few months since Shane joined the Centaurs. They got along like a house on fire, despite their differences, but it worked. If Ilya could just get Troy to pull his head out of his ass, they’d be able to go on double dates–something that was enticing to the couple. Ilya also liked that Shane had made a friend in a fellow gay man, especially one that was comfortable with his sexuality. 

“Roz!” Ilya tears his gaze from his husband, “Stop staring at your boyfriend and get your head in the game!”

“Fuck you! I am only one scoring right now,” he shouts back. “Maybe you should focus on being better at volleyball.”

—

Their second wedding anniversary passed with little fanfare. It fell on an off day this year, after an earlier All-Stars weekend than usual. They unfortunately spent the day traveling; an evening game followed by an unusually enthusiastic celebration and an early departure time. Fortunately, it was only Winnipeg, meaning they were home by the afternoon. Ilya abandons pretense and shoves his husband back onto their bed and climbs over him before protests about unpacking can escape. Shane doesn’t complain, just eagerly strips between trying to suck Ilya’s soul out of his mouth.

“Two years,” Ilya murmurs into Shane’s lips. “Two years between first time we met and first hook up.”

“I remember,” Shane gasps, barely resisting the urge to thrust forward into Ilya’s hand. “Only a year between that and the next time.”

“All-Stars two-thousand eleven, yes,” Ilya says. Then grins, “Ten years ago.”

“That’s a long time,” Shane hums. He smooths his hands down Ilya’s chest, squeezing his tits before running his hands back up to cup the back of his neck. “We’ve been together for a long time.”

“Yes, we have,” Ilya agrees. “Thirteen years. Twelve and a half.”

Shane hums, “We were seventeen.”

“Yes, we were,” says Ilya. “Children.”

“Babies, really,” Shane grins. “We grew up together. I said something similar to JJ. Something about how you’re the person I’ve been in love with my whole adult life.”

Ilya kisses him deeply; Shane can feel the decade of love pouring into it and returns it feverishly. Ilya pulls back to rest their foreheads together, his eyes still closed. His voice is choked when he says, “I met my future husband. When you found me and shook my hand, we didn’t even know that we would get married one day.”

Shane sniffles, “That’s insane. This whole time, you’ve always been my future husband.”

“Nyet, now I am your husband.”

“Yeah,” Shane cups his husband’s face and pulls him in for another kiss, “I lost my virginity to my husband. Kinda.”

A wet laugh escapes Ilya and he noses at Shane’s face, “I love you. I’m so happy you’re mine. My husband.”

—

March 2021

“Harris.” Shane stares at his best friend, arms crossed.

“Shane.” 

“Did you invite us over so you could convince me to get a dog?”

“No, I invited you over for dinner because I wanted to introduce you guys to my family and also, yes, we had a puppy abandoned and I thought Ilya would like to meet her.”

“Harris…”

“She’s cute! And she needs a home,” Harris points out. Shane looks over to where Ilya is rolling around in the grass while a scruffy dog barks happily and chases him. “I know you’ve been talking about getting a dog.”

Shane sighs, “We have been talking about getting a dog. I was thinking more like the summer, when we have time to train her and get used to the new routine.”

“But?”

“But,” Shane repeats, “Ilya looks happy and I don’t think I can put my foot down.”

“You like her.”

“Probably,” Shane agrees. “But Ilya loves her and I love him.”

Harris hums and reaches down to pet his own dog, Chiron, who is happily laying at his feet. The ball Ilya is throwing lands near them and the mutt he’s playing with sprints towards where it landed at Shane’s feet. He scoops up the ball before she reaches it and holds it where she can’t reach. She barks and runs in a few circles around him, occasionally crouching like she’s waiting for him to throw it.

“You want it?” Shane asks, unable to keep the grin off his face and shaking the ball before launching it, “Fetch!” The dog takes off back towards Ilya. “Ok, fine. I like her.”

—

They face Boston in round one and Ilya keeps pinching Shane to keep him from looking over at their bench and making faces with Cliff. It only works as long as it takes for one of them to take the ice and then Shane is back to sending threats to his friend with his eyes. Marly pins him to the boards, trying to stop him from getting the puck to a teammate. Shane gets an elbow between them and hisses, “This is homophobic. You can’t let the first husbands of hockey lose the Staley cup!”

Marly barks out a surprised laugh and paired with the elbow, is enough for Shane to get the puck away and follow shortly after it. Boston puts up a good fight, but they’re no match for the Centaurs who pull out on top, 5-3.

The Centaurs advance to round two in five games. They advance to conference finals in six. They advanced to the Stanley Cup Finals in another six games.

It’s game seven against Seattle, both teams fighting to bring the Cup home for the first time. Shane chews angrily on his mouth guard, glaring at the opposing goalie and planning personal revenge against the man. Each game had gone back and forth between the teams and game seven was on Ottawa’s ice. Ilya systematically taps his foot against Shane’s skate, a mini pep talk between husbands. It’s been a rough two periods and half way through the third, none of the Centaurs wanted to go into overtime against such a finicky team. Even the rookies are blank-faced with focus, eyes tracking every movement on the ice.

Shane crouches, facing off against Seattle’s center, Ilya on one wing, Troy on the other. A line that Wiebe employed for times just like this: when they needed a fucking miracle. 

Time slows, Shane snaps the puck towards his husband and takes off. In a dizzying two minutes, Shane has the puck again. He can almost hear the ticking of the clock; he passes to Barrett, who passes to Ilya, who fakes out the defenseman on him and passes to empty space. It would be empty, except Shane appears and snatches up the puck. The goalie blocks the shot, but Shane anticipates and is in place for the rebound, shooting it back to his husband again, who lines up and executes a perfect Rozanov.

There’s not enough time for Seattle to catch up; Ottawa wins the Stanley Cup.

Chapter 17: here's to my mama

Chapter Notes

so... i thought i'd be back with another normal length chapter, but it ended up being another 4k instead. so... enjoy!

it's the yuna chapter!

The view stretches out, the golden sun catching the tops of the trees in the valley below. Yuna doesn’t feel embarrassed collapsing to the ground and throwing her fist up in victory with a shout. After she’d stood in her kitchen in a daze for far longer than she meant to, Yuna had done a deep dive on what she absolutely refused to call a mid-life crisis. What she had googled was something more along the lines of what to do when your kids don’t need your help anymore and ended up twelve tabs later on a blog talking about reinventing your life instead of wallowing in being an empty nester. The woman recommended finding or making a bucket list of everything you couldn’t do or try because of your kids.

Yuna didn’t love the implication that she’d been miserable while parenting or that she’d been limiting herself while raising Shane–even well into adulthood and her hand guiding the non-hockey parts of his career. 

But it was the first advice that she felt like she could reasonably listen to.

So she does her research: different hobbies she could take up, facebook groups, book clubs, outdoor activities, crafts, experiences, skills. Anything that sounded interesting, she wrote it down in a spreadsheet divided into categories. There were a few that she brought to David, asking if he’d like to go white-water rafting or parasailing with her. 

“Honey, I’d follow you into hell, but not into the air,” he said. “I’ll cheer from the boat if you want. And take pictures.”

Yuna starts small, joining a book club that she quits in a fit of rage after three months of the most sugar-sweet, substance lacking, absolute waste of a tree books (her words) and instead joins an explicitly-stated multi-genre book recommendation facebook group. She still doesn’t read a lot, but she does find the time here and there. 

Several arts and crafts fail. She’s never been good at sitting docile and extending her patience to the kind of repetitive movements required. Plus the sheer amount of time required? Yuna appreciated a job well done, but she doesn’t have to be the one doing the job.

Around Christmas she joins a welding class. It’s not something long-term, but it’s fun. It’s not fun when one of her classmates drops the news in the middle of their break.

“Hey, Yuna! Isn’t your son on the Centaurs?” Bill calls across the room. She looks up.

“Yes.”

“You should see this,” he says, motioning her over, “looks like their plane had engine failure. They had to make an emergency landing in Tampa.”

She’s across the room with Bill’s phone in her hand, scrolling through the article before the word emergency is out of his mouth. Hands trembling, Yuna scrolls, taking in as much information as she can. Engine failure, emergency landing, minor injuries.

The instructor sends her home immediately and she arrives home to David waiting on the porch. On her phone is a text that must have come through while she was driving.

Shane: Ilya and I are ok. We just made it to the hotel. No injuries.

Yuna sobs into her husband’s arms. Once she manages to pull herself together, she calls Shane. When he picks up, she can’t help the shaky breath releasing from her lungs.

—

The conversation doesn’t improve, but even the stilted, jagged communication is better than the radio silence. There are a few times one of them toes too close to the line they’ve drawn in the sand. Shane starts telling her life things again. Nothing big, just updates them when they get a dog and sends a picture. Or he’ll mention something funny Ilya did. He brings up hanging out with Harris the social media guy a few times or going to team events and Yuna wants to hug him and tell him how proud she is that he’s making friends. She doesn’t know how to say it without sounding like she’s fishing for information. So, she keeps her comments mild, her reactions contained. 

The weather gets nicer and Yuna buys a good pair of hiking boots and a local guidebook. She starts medium, refusing to give any attention to the flatter, easier hikes. She’s not that old or inexperienced with Canadian terrain. Two months in, she has her favorites. David comes with her sometimes, when he has a day off, but most times she goes alone. It’s freeing. Yuna can clear her head, ruminate on what’s plaguing her, solve her problems all while keeping her body moving. There’s never anyone around to bother her and the ambient sounds of nature soothe her better than music.

Yuna rolls and pulls her legs under her to sit criss-cross on the dirt. It’s one of the harder hikes, but it’s rewarding. Her small pack comes off and she digs around for her snack. The burn in her legs, the harsh mountain air in her lungs, the flush to her cheeks all serve as proof that she accomplished something. 

Almost a year ago, her son sat her down and told her he needed to find himself. She didn’t get it then, thought that she was being punished, that Shane was changing into someone unrecognizable and it was a bad thing. 

The tension of the years before that used to give weight to her theory, now they just prove Shane’s point. The decade of secrecy behind those years were further evidence that Yuna didn’t know her son as well as she thought. It didn’t have to be a bad thing, she was realizing. She made it a bad thing when she tried to control the change, the new information. She clung so hard to the version she thought was real that she didn’t think of course he’s changing, he’s been hiding for ten years. It’s obvious, in hindsight, Shane admitted it himself several times: he was so focused on being Shane Hollander he doesn’t know who he is outside of that. 

Shane is like her almost too much, she thinks. When faced with the problem of who is Shane Hollander? He decided to start fresh, strip himself clean of everything that he didn’t know he loved and build from the ground up. Yuna had seen that process as him stripping their cast iron of it’s seasoning.

Yuna stops chewing on her granola bar; that was a weird analogy to make about her son. She shrugs. It’s not inaccurate, and her son had actually been deadheading a rosebush (She learned a lot in that class, but ultimately only reinforced her black thumb). The point she was making to herself was the disconnect between Shane’s intentions (which, she would admit silently as a form of reprieve, he had been poor about communicating) and what she thought his intentions were.

When she gets back to her car at the bottom of the mountain, there’s a text from Shane waiting for her.

Shane: I think Emma is going to kill me if I keep suggesting putting it off. Would you come to therapy with me next Wednesday? If you would be more comfortable, we can talk at home, but I think we need a mediator. If you’re not ready to talk, that’s ok too. We can wait until after playoffs.

A lump forms in her throat and her eyes go blurry, obscuring the message she’s reading and re-reading. 

Yuna: What time do I need to be there?

—

Yuna leaps to her feet when the goal lights turn red, confirming that Ilya had just scored the winning goal. Her voice is hoarse from screaming for an hour. Beside her, David is cheering just as loud, pointing down at the ice and shouting unintelligibly.

She’s so proud of her son–her sons. As skeptical as she was about Ottawa, she knows she didn’t need to be. Not because they won the cup, but because she’s been watching from the outside how happy Shane is now. Watching Shane and Ilya celebrate with their teammates, watching them hoist the cup together, it’s surreal. Yuna never thought Shane would leave Montreal. She also never thought he’d get together with Ilya Rozanov. Engaged to, her mind whispers to her, reminding Yuna of one of the first fights that started the quick derailment of their relationship.

Plans change, her mind whispers to her, It’s been like this for so long, but it’s not working anymore.

And she resisted the change. She resisted something she didn’t want to change because she was scared, because she thought she knew best. But life moved on without her, while she was stubbornly digging her heels in, Shane kept living his life the way he needed to and that included leaving Yuna behind. She can’t blame him, not anymore. She can’t blame Ilya. She can’t blame David. She doesn’t know how to keep fixing it, but by god is she going to keep trying.

Attending a therapy session with her son had gone well, all things considered. She could see why he liked Emma, she was no nonsense and didn’t need to raise her voice to keep the conversation on track. The entire thing was set up to facilitate the conversation that needed to happen between mother and son.

Starting with the changed locks.

Then onto an argument about communication styles,

Back to two grown men in a relationship and a very red Shane forced to say the words very active sex life to his mother and Yuna being forced to confront several things in hindsight in real time.

Which leads them to the brand deals.

And around to Shane explaining (very eloquently; he practiced) what it was like being gay and hiding that fact from everyone while trying to live the life everyone expected of him. A frustrated, blinking back tears, eyes down rant, spilling the kinds of things he never talked about with anyone. The pressure of everything holding him back for reasons he can’t control and only, only wanting to play the sport he loved and, if he could swing it, be with the man he loved. One of those things propelled him into the career he dreamed of, and the other was a cruel reminder of the incompatibility of his desires.

Until Scott Hunter came out. Then there was a reason to try.

Separating Ilya and Hockey in Shane’s life is an impossible task. Almost. Shane explains that it wasn’t until he was introducing Ilya as the love of his life to his parents that there was a divide between the two. It was very faint, very small, almost indetectable. In some universes, that sliver is bigger, more noticeable, or seen before that particular moment. No one else saw it. People can’t separate the person from the hockey player and the two of them together only makes it worse. People don’t stop to see the two kids who pushed each other to greater and greater heights in a race more akin to puppies playing than a ruthless endeavor to be the best. They only see the superstars, see them together, and decide that it’s only hockey holding them together. 

But it is there, and Shane saw it for the first time at the table over pasta. For the first time, it wasn’t about hockey. Shane had people now, a space where it didn’t have to be about hockey and that was okay.

Except it wasn’t. It was still about hockey.

It hurt the most when his own parents couldn’t separate the two, because it proved–to Shane!–that his parents didn’t know him. They knew Shane Hollander. Yuna wanted to take over Ilya’s own professional portfolio and Shane saw it as evidence that they weren’t a real couple to her. Or that they were, but it was still all about hockey. 

Yuna gets her two cents in, near the end, and all in all they declare it successful. Emma says something to Shane in Russian, to which he shakes his head and responds in the same language. She’s shocked at the level of fluency, but only comments that he’s getting good.

One session doesn’t magically make everything better, but it helps. They’re talking again, for one. Yuna knows where the lines are, and makes a point to avoid them. Shane and Ilya start going over for dinner again. There are long stretches of silence when tension starts to bleed into the air. Yuna and Shane still argue and walk off with huffs. They make a point now, to find each other and resolve it or at least find a stopping point before either leaves.

When the boys get back from the MLH awards in Vegas, Shane stops her on the way out the door after family dinner hosted at their cottage. 

“There’s still some things I need to tell you,” he says, worrying his lip between his teeth. “It’s good news, but it’s hard to share.”

She nods, “Ok. That means you’re worried about my reaction to a secret you’ve been keeping, but it’s nothing bad.”

“Yeah,” agrees Shane. “Like when I told you I was gay. Surprising, secret, not bad, still worried.”

“When do you want to talk?”

“I–Will you call me when you’re ready to hear it?” Shane scrubs his face, “Sorry, that’s not–”

“I can do that,” Yuna interrupts. “That’s probably a good idea. I’ll call you when I’m in the right mood. That would be best for both of us. I’ll call you.”

“Thanks, mom.” Shane allows her to pull him in for a hug. “I love you. Thanks for coming to dinner.”

“I love you too, Shane.”

—

Shane picks up the phone, idly greeting his mother, “Hey.”

“How do you feel about a hike today?” she asks. “You told me to call you when I was ready for the hard, but good news.”

Shane hums, “A hike sounds good. Do you have one in mind?”

“Yeah, I was thinking we go before it gets hot. Think you could meet me at the trailhead in an hour?” 

Considering the option and weighing up a few others, Shane extends the next olive branch, “Why don’t you come pick me up? I can be ready in forty-five minutes.”

“Ok,” he can hear his mom clear her throat, “yeah, I’ll come pick you up. See you soon.”

“See you soon, mom.”

—

The drive isn’t entirely silent, but conversation is stilted. Shane is too nervous about revealing the elopement to focus on maintaining another topic and Yuna is trying to split her attention between driving safely and checking in on her son. She’s picked an easier hike. Not because she doesn’t think they can’t do a harder one, but because they’re here to talk and she’s not trapping them seven miles uphill with each other.

“Oh,” Shane comments when he gets out of the car, “Ilya and I did this last summer.”

She gives a non-committal hum, “Did you like it? I found it a few months ago when I started hiking regularly.”

“We did.”

They settle into easy conversation for the first part of the hike, avoiding topics they know will cause the wrong kind of reaction, and before they know it, they’re laughing as they walk. Yuna wonders–and searches her memory–if she’s ever spent time with Shane like this. Alone and doing something that isn’t work related. Even when Shane was younger, the focus was hockey. Back then it was because that’s what Shane loved most, and what he wanted to spend his time on. Yuna and David encouraged it, thrilled he was picking up the sport and was good at it. Sometime between then and now, Yuna had flanderized her own life.

They come to a stop at a fork and Yuna points down the right. “That way loops back to the parking lot. The left goes uphill for a few more miles.”

Instead of choosing a path, Shane sits on a log and pats next to him for her to take a seat. “I think I should talk now. Before I lose my nerve.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Yuna says. She takes the spot next to her son on the log and they both stare off into the distance. Shane’s leg is bouncing lightly and she can almost hear the gears turning, figuring out where to start. She knows it’s good news; she also knows it’s news that will be hard to hear. “Whatever it is, I trust you. I know it hasn’t seemed like it, but that’s not on you. You’re an adult and I should have been treating you like one.”

“You remember a few years ago,” Shane starts, “when Ilya and I got engaged?”

“Yeah,” Yuna sighs. “I have to apologize for how I acted. I shouldn’t have taken my surprise out on you. I reacted poorly because I didn’t see it coming and I was scared of how many things were changing.”

“I know. Emma thought that was a likely reason. But I should also apologize for my reaction to your reaction.”

“What do you mean?” Yuna doesn’t remember Shane acting out at dinner. He’d let the entire argument go with ease–after he got his two cents in. But a dread starts to trickle down her spine.

“I mean,” Shane blows out a harsh breath, “I mean, I said we would do a long engagement. I lied.”

“You lied?”

“Ilya and I eloped.” Shane risks a look over at his shocked mother. Her jaw is on the floor and she seems to be trying to process the information.

“I’m sorry?”

“After All-Star weekend a few months later,” he explains, “we rented out a hotel to have a small ceremony. It was just us and a few friends; Sveta, Rose, Cliff, JJ,” he lists. Yuna has recovered enough that she’s blinking rapidly, opening and closing her mouth searching for words. 

“You… you got married?”

“I know you were concerned about a paper trail, and so were we, but… JJ mentioned that we could have the paperwork sealed, so we did. No one else knows, just those four.”

“You eloped?” Yuna whispers, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m… I’m not upset at you.”

“But you’re upset,” says Shane, nodding. “That’s ok. We did elope without telling you. You’re allowed to be upset about that.”

Yuna barks out a laugh, “Did your therapist tell you that?”

“She reminded me that you are allowed to feel your own feelings about it,” confirms Shane. “And that I was also allowed to elope if that’s what we wanted to do.”

“And did you?” Yuna asks. “Want to elope?”

Shane shrugs, “We wanted to get married. We knew we couldn’t have a big wedding, but we didn’t want that. Eloping the way we did felt like the easiest option for what we did want: getting married, having something small and intimate, and keeping it a secret.”

Yuna’s gaze finds the ring Shane wears on his left hand. The ring he’s been wearing on his finger. Yuna assumed that when she shut down the idea of getting hitched right away and Shane backed down, that he hadn’t gone behind her back. It’s a stupid assumption in hindsight, when has forbidding Shane from doing anything–explicitly or not–stopped him from doing something he wants anyway?

“I don’t like it,” Yuna says. “I hate that I missed it, I mean. But I… I understand. Would you and Ilya consider doing a vow renewal or another ceremony after you do come out? Or before, just to invite more people, if you come out to more friends?”

“We’ve thought about it,” says Shane hesitantly. “I don’t know. Probably, because then everyone who wants to be there will be there.”

Yuna hears it this time, the deferral to what other people want. “Only if you want to. Don’t feel like you need to redo it just because people complain about missing it.”

“No, that’s not it.” Shane stands up and reaches a hand to pull his mom to her feet. “I would marry Ilya every day if I could. It would be nice to show off for people by having a vow renewal, but we’re just not sure who we’d invite right now. Everything is so busy, and when we do come out, it’s going to be shit-show. Maybe in a few years, is what I’m trying to say.”

“Ok,” says Yuna. “Until then, how do you feel about a belated celebratory dinner, just your parents.”

Shane grins, “I’d like that. So would Ilya.”

“Then we should head back and tell your father.”

Shane grimaces, “I think he might already know? We didn’t tell him, but dad’s scarily perceptive sometimes and he’s made a few comments that make me think the marriage isn’t going to be much of a surprise.”

Yuna nods and presses her lips together to smother the laughter threatening to escape. “That… yeah, he probably knows.”

—

David does know, but he acts appropriately surprised and taken aback for two whole minutes, until Shane rolls his eyes and tells him to knock it off. He does, but he also wraps Shane in a big hug and tells him how proud he is. He does the same to Ilya.

“You boys have been through a lot of shit,” he says, arms squeezing the life out of his son-in-law. “I’m glad we have a reason to celebrate.”

Once they’re sat for dinner, digging into celebratory chicken parm, Yuna decides to ask, “As your mom,” Shane raises an eyebrow, but Yuna only raises one back and repeats, “as your mom, what’s the new plan for coming out? You’re on the same team, living together, married… is there anything we need to be aware of? Any way we can help?”

Shane exchanges a look with his husband. “I think everyone important knows we’re together by now. Our team only caught on after the plane… so, they all know we’re together, not that we’re married. Plus Sveta, Rose, JJ, and Cliff. So,” he shrugs, “we’re still planning on keeping it a secret, but we’re not being as careful with it as we were in the past. Like you said, we’re on the same team and living together, people are bound to notice something’s weird. But trying too hard is likely to backfire, so we’re mostly taking the ‘let people assume and don’t mention it’ approach.”

“We were thinking, maybe, another season or two, depending,” Ilya says, “then coming out.”

“I think you’re right, people are bound to notice that you two live together and the timeline is weird surrounding both moves, but you said your team knows?” Shane nods. “Then you have more people helping you keep it secret, that will help.”

“You…” Shane bites his lip and puts his fork down, “You think it’s a good idea to come out in the next year or so?”

“I think…” Yuna says slowly, “that it’s going to be harder to hide the longer you’re together and you both already hate it. If you put together something and come out, you have a better chance of telling people yourselves, instead of being outed.”

“That’s what we were thinking,” Shane agrees with a relieved breath. “We were thinking, well, JJ was thinking, and Rose, that we should just hard launch with wedding photos and a caption about celebrating our wedding anniversary.”

David starts laughing and he waves his hand to try and get the attention off him, “Sorry, sorry. I can only imagine opening facebook and seeing Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov wedding pictures with the caption that you've been married for a few years. I would assume I was crazy and missed the wedding the first time around.”

Ilya grins and joins in the laughter.

Shane looks at his mom and she raises her wine glass in a mock-toast.

“He’s right, Shane. The world is going to go nuts.”

Chapter End Notes

for everyone who wants more david, i started a new wip that focuses on him and shane. and for everyone who wants shane to have a story where he goes no contact w yuna, it’s the same story (well, actually there’s two) but i’m having fun writing it, yes, even through my heaving sobs

Chapter 18: the most interesting things...

Chapter Notes

oh i had so much fun with this chapter.

February 2022

Just because the NHL was banned from participating in the winter Olympics, didn’t mean that Shane was going to waste their two weeks off. Their third anniversary fell right before their time off this time and Shane had a plan. Three days before their anniversary, Shane and Ilya dual posted on instagram. The first picture dug up from their first All-Stars and the joint interview they gave, the second of Ilya kissing Shane’s helmet the one time they were on the same team in 2017, and the third is one JJ took of Shane looking wide eyed and nervous and giddy standing in his hotel room in his suit.

Ilya posts the same first two pictures and replaces the third with one of him and Cliff while they’re waiting in the room they reserved. He’s squatted with a look of wide-eyed anticipation on his face while Cliff takes a grinning selfie, most of the focus on Ilya in the background.

They both caption the photos the same way: 

shanehollanderhockeyplayer and ilyarozanov81 posted Shame we’re missing All-Stars this year. The most interesting things always happen… 📱💋💍

The internet exploded, as several people had predicted. People were trying to figure out what the posts could mean. People debate the emojis, the matching captions, the pictures. It’s clear when the first two are from–they can be found online. The last two are clearly meant to match, even if the other isn’t in it. 

What certainly doesn’t help is JJ and Cliff posting their own pictures (with permission) a few hours later.

—

[img: JJ giving Ilya a piggyback ride and running down a hallway with crazy looks on their faces]

boiziau16 friendship with Shane CANCELLED, Ilya Rozanov is my best friend

—

[img: Cliff being shoved off a couch by Shane while they’re playing video games.]

clifffffff07 friendship with Roz CANCELLED, Shane is my new best friend

—

If Shane thought the internet went nuts with their post, they almost break instagram with the addition of their best friends posting. Fans wanted to know why there was a friend swap. They wanted to know if this was a soft launch of Shane and Ilya’s relationship. They wanted to know where the pictures came from. Was there a wedding? Was it theirs? Or someone else's?

It’s not until the day of their actual anniversary of their wedding that they give any concrete answers. It’s the first day of break (for them, with the way the schedule worked out), so they have two weeks to let the immediate fallout happen. The early post was a tease, a taste, a test, now they were ready to blow minds. They’re curled together on the couch, picking pictures and coordinating with their friends' own posts. Ilya shows Shane the draft to get his approval before posting. He leans in to kiss his husband and refreshes the page.

“Fuck.” Shane furrows his eyebrows.

“What?” Ilya turns his phone around to show Shane the error message currently being displayed. “Ilya… did our wedding post crash the app?”

“Da, I think so.” Ilya purses his lips and Shane covers his mouth. “Our love is too strong, solnyshko.”

That breaks them and they dissolve into peals of laughter.

—

[img] [Shane/Ilya holding up the stanley cup] [Shane/Ilya smooshed on a couch, surrounded by Rose, Svetlana, Cliff, and JJ, smiling while JJ takes the picture, selfie mode] [Shane carrying Ilya bridal style in suits while Cliff and JJ cheer behind them] [The lilies from their first anniversary with the note visible] [Anya asleep on top of an equally asleep Ilya, on the couch. Shane is sitting on the floor in front taking the picture and smiling at them fondly]

shanehollanderhockeyplayer Three years ago I proposed to the love of my life and convinced him to elope with me 💍🥰

—

[img] [the lilies with the note visible] [Shane/Ilya snuggled in a hammock] [Same post-wedding selfie] [Ilya with his arms around Shane, kissing in front of Svetlana. Shane’s feet are a few inches off the ground] [Shane/Ilya holding the stanley cup] [Shane/Ilya/Anya asleep on the couch in a pile]

ilyarozanov81 Three years ago I said yes, it didn’t take much convincing to agree 💍😘

—

They end up fielding less phone calls than they thought, but Wyatt mentions that he's calling on behalf of the rest of the team. 

"You've been married for three years!" he shouts as soon as Shane picks up the call. "When we all found out about you guys, you were already married? And didn't think to mention it?"

Shane shrugs, uncaring that Wyatt can't see the action. He uses his foot to shove his husband, who's giggling on the other end of the couch. "We had our reasons. At that point the only people who knew about it were the people there. We didn't hide the marriage because we didn't trust you guys or anything. We would have done a better job at hiding our relationship if we really didn't want you guys to piece it together. We just kept the marriage part quiet."

"What do you mean hidden your relationship better?" Wyatt's voice goes up several octaves. 

"I mean," Shane stresses, "that all those things you guys noticed, you only noticed because we didn't bother hiding those behaviors."

"What the fuck?" Wyatt curses. "Really? We thought we were being so smart about it..."

"Did you forget we've been hiding this secret for almost fifteen years?" Shane laughs. 

"Oh."

"Yeah, if we didn't want you to know, it would have been a lot harder to tell."

"Fair," says Wyatt. "So, the wedding we were all so excited to attend in the future?"

"We'll do a vow renewal at some point," says Shane. "I don't know when, but we were thinking when we retire. So don't worry, we'll probably do a wedding for everyone."

Wyatt hangs up soon after that, needing to share what he's learned with the rest of the team. Shane doesn't have time to put his phone down before it's lighting up again, this time with a call from his dad. He answers and can't get a word in because David is just laughing on the other end. Full, hysterical, belly laughs. The kind that start to infect anyone who hears it-especially when they know why you're laughing like that. Shane joins in, putting his dad on speaker so Ilya can join in. David eventually gets himself under control enough to say, "That was beautiful." before hanging up.

—

[img] [Sveta doing something to Ilya’s curls in a hotel room] [Ilya in Shane’s lap, kissing him. They’re both raising champagne glasses]

sveta_lana There’s no one else I would trust with Ilyushka’s heart. And no one else who would put up with him.

—

[img] [Ilya and Cliff in Boston jerseys] [Shane asleep on the couch, Ilya laying on top of him so you can barely see Shane] [JJ, Shane, and Ilya having a group hug in the conference room. Rose and Sveta in the background] [The six sitting in various positions on a bed playing a card game]

cliffffff07 I’ve been waiting to be the best man at this wedding since 2012, when I first saw Roz blushing over his ‘Montreal Girl’ 😍💘this man is whiiiiiiiped. 😝I’m so happy you found each other❣️

—

[img] [Rose, Shane, and Ilya recreating the ‘guy looking at another girl’ meme, except Shane is looking back at Ilya] [Rose kissing Shane’s cheek] [screenshot from a FT call. Shane has a sand merman tail that Ilya is adding to in the background]

roselandry I regifted Shane back to Ilya, now they can’t be legally separated. 

—

Ilya’s phone lights up later into the afternoon, while he's out with Anya. Checking it, he sees that JJ sent him a video. 

3rd best voyager: [video]

3rd best voyager: I saw the opportunity and took it. 

—

JJ knows the plan. He’s a part of the plan. On the last day of Montreal’s practice before the Olympics kick off, he sticks close to Hayden without making it obvious that he’s waiting for him to say something about JJ’s cryptic post and Marly’s matching one. Or for him to bring up the vague All-Star post from Shane and Ilya.

Nothing.

So after practice, JJ follows Hayden into the parking lot and enacts the plan he’s been thinking about since he realized he had the opportunity. He pulls his phone out and makes a noise of surprise.

“What?” Hayden asks and JJ, instead of scrolling instagram like he’s pretending, opens his camera and starts recording, holding his phone to record Hayden without being obvious.

“Shane posted something, so did Roz. You should see it.” Hayden listens and JJ takes the opportunity to slip his phone into the pocket on his shirt, perfectly angled to keep capturing the other man. Hayden’s jaw drops.

“What the fuck am I looking at?”

“I think they’re wedding pictures,” says JJ, enjoying the moment so much. “That’s what they look like, at least.”

“Wedding? No, I would know if Shane was getting married,” counters Hayden, still staring at his screen, clicking around like the information will rearrange itself to make sense. It won’t. “JJ, you’re in these pictures.”

“Oh, yeah, I would be,” JJ agrees.

“JJ…” Hayden’s face is a mix of disbelief and anger. JJ pinches his lips together to keep laughter in. “JJ, why are you in these pictures Shane just posted about eloping three years ago?”

“Probably because I was at the wedding?” JJ shrugs, so glad he thought to record the interaction.

“You… were… at the wedding?” more disbelief seeps into his voice. “JJ…”

“Yes, I was at the wedding, Hayden,” says JJ. “Three years ago when they got married.”

“Why didn’t Shane say anything about it? Why were you invited? Why were you invited but not me? Why didn’t I know about this?” Hayden could probably keep going, but JJ finally loses his battle with laughter. “What the fuck, dude?”

“Sorry, sorry,” JJ wipes his eyes, “just, why do you think Shane didn’t tell you? Was it perhaps that you hate his husband? Maybe he didn’t want a heckler at his wedding? Why do you think Hayd?”

Hayden is floundering, “I–That’s not fair.”

“It’s perfectly fair,” says JJ. “Shane eloped with a handful of people who supported him and Roz, that’s all there is to it. I was one of those people.”

“I’m Shane’s best friend, I should have been there,” Hayden argues. 

JJ shakes his head, “I can’t speak for him, but I wouldn’t be so sure that’s true anymore. When was the last time you two spoke?” Hayden can’t come up with an answer fast enough, which is all JJ needs. “Way back when you two were fighting, when Shane was still on the team, I took him out to get coffee. I wanted to know why he was mad at you. He told me how much you hated his boyfriend. That’s all I knew then, just that Shane had a boyfriend that you didn’t like. One thing led to another and I convinced him to get a ring.”

He can see the moment it lands. Hayden’s face twists before smoothing out again and settling into a more acceptable anger. 

“How do you hear that Shane is dating someone I don’t approve of and come to the conclusion that they need to be married? Why didn’t you talk to me, find out why I don’t like him? We’re supposed to all be friends, I would have thought that my word counted for something! Remember that chick from Baltimore? We set you straight on that, why wouldn’t we help Shane?”

“Do you even hear yourself?” JJ chooses a few choice words in French to send Hayden’s way. “Why the fuck does it matter if you don’t approve? Not one thing Shane told me about Rozanov before I knew who he was raised any flags. I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why you didn’t like him other than just biphobia.”

Haden flinches like he’s been shot. “I am not… what? Biphobic. I’m not.”

JJ has to laugh, “Wow, you know that’s not how that works, right? Like, you can’t just decide you’re not, this is more of an actions speak louder than words situation. I didn’t consult you because what Shane chose to share with me was between us. You didn’t come tell me about Roz when you found out and I would have been disappointed if you did. That’s not cool, dude.”

“How did you meet him and not change your mind? He’s Rozanov,” Hayden tries. “He’s–”

“Give it a rest, dude,” JJ rolls his eyes, “stop saying that like it means something other than you just don’t like him. Sure, he chirps. Sure, he’s an asshole. Congrats, you’ve figured out what Shane likes about him in the first place!”

“What are you talking about?” JJ has to stop and process the implication.

“Hayden… do you think that Shane doesn’t like it when Roz is an asshole?”

“I don’t understand how anyone could like someone who’s that mean all the time. Like–” Hayden glowers at hysterical JJ. “Stop laughing, asshole.”

“Pike, not everyone is as vanilla as you,” JJ snorts. “Some people do like being pushed around. Or being chirped at. Shane loves it when Ilya is mean; to him or other people. Jesus Christ, wow.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Forget about it, Pike,” JJ waves him off. “I’ll tell you when you're older.”

“Fine, Shane likes Rozanov,” Hayden rewinds. “I–”

“Loves,” JJ interrupts, “loves Rozanov, not likes.”

“Jesus, I can see why you get along. You’re turning into him.” Hayden watches as JJ loses it completely to a joke he doesn’t understand. 

“You hate me now too, Pike?” 

“I hate that my so-called friends are going behind my back a-a-an-and-and betraying what I thought was a mutual friendship,” Hayden struggles to get out. 

“God, it’s just the pity party with you, isn’t it?” JJ spits. “It’s like you’re jealous or something.”

It’s an established, effective way to get under someone’s skin. Especially someone like Hayden Pike, who jumps to his own defense, sputtering out denials like they’ll save him from death row. 

“Yeah,” JJ decides, “jealous. You wish Shane was sucking your dick instead of Rozanov’s.”

The reaction is immediate. The sheer disgust and discomfort radiating off of Pike is almost visible. “I-no-what? Why would you say that? I’m not gay.”

“Hmm, I don’t hear you denying that you want Shane to suck your dick,” JJ points out. He’s delighted, the phone is still recording and the look on Hayden’s face is something he’ll treasure forever. He only wished Ilya was here to see it in person.

Hayden sputters some more, but finally manages to string together, “I don’t want Shane to suck my dick.”

“Mmnhm, that sounded convincing,” says JJ. “You know, you sound like Shane every time he used to call Roz an asshole.”

“I’m not gay.”

“Don’t worry, you’ve convinced me,” JJ placates with a judgmental eyebrow. “I don’t think you’re gay. Cause, you know, bisexual people exist.” If he thought Hayden’s face couldn’t produce any more colors, the shade of red that JJ manages to bring out with the bisexual comment is beautiful, if clashing with Pike’s choice of athleisure. Well, JJ’s still tempted to find the color in paint form. It would make for a nice accent in his bathroom. Or… Shane was also talking about remodeling the bathroom. Maybe JJ and Roz can go together. “Why does the idea of sucking dick make you uncomfortable? Is it just yours? Or is it imagining Shane and Ilya?”

“JJ,” Hayden growls, “stop. This isn’t funny. You and Shane might be having a grand old time with this, but how do you think I feel? I just found out I was excluded from my best friend's wedding, that he married an asshole who’s gonna break his heart, and all you’re doing is making jokes.”

“Oh, oh no,” JJ chuckles. “No, it’s not a joke. You’re right, none of this is funny. Because Shane thought he could trust you with his secret. Not just his, Ilya’s as well. A very, very dangerous secret. And you acted like an entitled brat because you didn’t get your way. You think because you didn’t approve that Shane would just listen? He’s been with Rozanov for almost fifteen years. At this point, nothing is going to break them apart. Your opinion never mattered to Shane and you acted like it should be law. That’s why you didn’t get invited to the wedding. I found out that Shane was marrying Ilya the day they got married. I knew Shane was getting married, like I said, I helped pick out the ring, but I didn’t know who he was marrying because I knew it wasn’t my secret to know until Shane and Ilya decided I needed to know. I remember even in the elevator on the way up to meet Roz he was still so nervous for me to meet him.”

“And what? That’s it? A whole decade of rivalry, of him being the enemy, out the window?”

JJ throws his head back and laughs, “Yeah, dude. I wasn’t there to play hockey or anything, I was there for a wedding. They’re literally perfect for each other and I can’t believe you don’t see it. I really don’t know what’s up with you, Hayd,” JJ shrugs. “I said a lot of things just now, but I don’t actually know what’s going on in your head. It’s just what I’ve noticed and what Shane’s mentioned. I extrapolated from there. Did you know Roz introduced me to this girl who’s studying psychology? She’s got some great insights about people.”

“Rozanov …introduced you…”

“Yeah, we went out. He’s in a relationship, but he’s always down to play wingman.”

Hayden nods, and nods, looking around like answers will appear in the air. “Ok. Ok. So, where do we go from here?”

“From here?” JJ shrugs. “I’m going home and texting Shane to see if I can interrupt his sexcation to hang out. You," he points at Hayden, "I don't know. But I'll see you in a few weeks when the Olympics are over."

—

Shane’s lily: you are the best

Shane’s lily: yes you can interrupt sexcation for 1 day. I’ll talk to Shane.

3rd best voyager: we should do brunch. and invite shane's new friend. the social media guy. harris?

Shane’s lily: good idea

Shane's lily: and yes, his name is Harris

Shane’s lily: also, thank you. 

Shane’s lily: for defending us to idiot pike

3rd best voyager: anytime. I really don’t understand him.

3rd best voyager: luckily my contract is up in 2 years. We’ll see what happens.

Shane's lily: boston has space

3rd best voyager: fuck off

3rd best voyager: that would be really funny

3rd best voyager: i'm going to make my post now

—

[img] [Shane has a phone to his head and he’s screaming in Ilya’s face. Ilya is screaming back] [JJ facedown on the floor, Ilya is doubled over in laughter and Shane is facepalming] [Cliff and JJ shaking hands and pointing at each other excitedly] [video] [Shane opens a small box and shows off the ring inside to the camera, saying, I just bought these… they’re for, uh, I don’t want to say on camera, but I’m going to propose soon. He grins. Thank you for helping me pick them out, JJ. He’s gonna love it. First, though, I have to find a hiding spot he won’t find.]

boiziau16 Not to brag, but I’m the one who convinced Shane to propose… an hour after I learned he had a boyfriend. AND I got invited to the wedding. 

—

December 24th, 2022

Shane walks into their kitchen, fresh from the shower and holding his phone. Without saying anything, he waits for his husband to turn. He does and jumps.

“Malysh,” Ilya presses a hand to his heart, “don’t do that. I am out of my skin with fear. You are not wearing clothes.”

Shane doesn’t acknowledge his husband’s observation, instead pressing something on his phone so the voice of Scott Hunter rings out.

“–teen years! Fourteen years, Kip! I can’t believe– oh. Shane Hollander, rook, kid, what the fuck am I looking at? I’m pretty sure I hallucinated that you announced you were married to Rozanov, but this really takes the cake. What do you mean fourteen years? What kind– Jesus, that’s… That’s before you even joined the league! I’m wracking my brain for any clues and I’m coming up empty. I’m no stranger to hiding my sexuality or a relationship, but how on earth did the two of you manage fourteen years? I simply can’t– no, Kip, I’m not– No, I can’t believe that they managed to hide from everyone this whole time! I’m gay too! I should have figured it out! There has to be a piece I’m missing, because otherwise I’m really as blind and deaf as Rozanov always claims! Hollander, what am I missing? When on earth? Why on earth? How on earth? I’m I really old? Jesus, I can’t do this. You and Rozanov. I’m sorry, that’s an insane combination. What do you even have in common? Besides hockey?................. Oh. Oh, no. oh. Never mind, don’t answer that. Why the fuck would you choose Rozanov? Surely there were other men. No, that’s… if you love him… that’s what matters. Even if I think your taste is shit, I’m not going to… Hollander–Shane, I don’t even know at this point. I’m glad you’re happy, I guess. I stand by the hallucination. You can’t expect me to be normal about waking up to that, that was insane. Why did you have to announce it like that. …I don’t know, Kip, but hard launching on instagram just broke everyone’s brains. No, it’s different from what we did. People saw it play out in real time and were better prepared as a whole. Give me one person who expected Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov to get married. Or even be in a relationship in the first place! Oh my god, Hollander, did you both move teams to be close to each other? No, that’s… Rozanov moved to Ottawa for you and you followed him. Do you know the state of league group chats everywhere when Ottawa’s 2020 lineup was announced? I’m pretty sure you directly caused a number of retirements.”

It keeps going and while Ilya is wheezing, unsuccessfully trying to suck air into his lungs, squatted and hunched over on the floor, Shane is still standing stock still, butt naked in his own kitchen, staring straight at the wall with his lips pinched together. When the voicemail finally ends–a whopping seven and a half minutes–Shane presses a few things and his phone starts ringing. 

“Hello? Hollander?” Scott’s real-time voice comes out of the tiny speaker and Ilya snorts. “What?”

“You, Scott Hunter, have a terrible gaydar. I can think of at least four times you–and I do mean you, Scott Hunter specifically–should have caught us. I’m sure there are more. I can’t decide if your gaydar is just rusted from age and lack of use or if you predate the invention of gaydar, so you unfortunately weren’t equipped with one. I’ve got a shitty gaydar too, but at least mine works, even if it’s hyper specific, but wow, Scott.”

Ilya is facedown, having lost the ability to hold himself upright at all and he sounds like a dying hyena. Anya is pawing at her papa while he tries desperately to breathe without making a noise like her favorite squeaker. 

“I get that you live in kumbya-gay heaven out in New York, but some of us were on the run from the literal government. I’ll let you sparse out which one, or let Kip do it. He seems to have the functioning equipment in the relationship, let him spell it out. I’m sorry your geriatrician doesn’t cover heart attacks, but I’ll make sure I gently roll out any other life changing news just so your boyfriend doesn’t become a widower at his age–” Ilya loses what little control he regained and collapses back onto the tile with a wheeze “–but I’m sure there are other prehistoric relics we could find if that’s his type; isn’t he studying history? Next time you think Ilya and I sound alike, you should dust off that raisin in your head and use it, maybe you’ll come to some fun conclusions. And while you’re at it, why don’t you figure out which decade you lost your ability to skate, then you can call me to ask stupid questions.”

The cackling, whistling, honking, laughter coming from his husband’s tear streaked face raise in volume once Shane hangs up. With shaking arms, Ilya pushes himself up to face Shane. He’s nearly inaudible from lack of air.

“S-shane… please…” he sucks in a few deliberate and audible breaths, “Shane, did you just…” Shane raises an eyebrow, but Ilya can tell he’s on the verge of breaking. “Did you just tell Scott Hunter that his brain and his dick don’t work? He’s the one with functioning equipment.”

“Yes, I did.” Shane finally gives in to the smile he’s been fighting and slowly starts laughing. “I can’t–I can’t believe I just did that. Oh my god.”

“Shane, that was most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed,” Ilya says, struggling to his feet. “I love you so much.”

“Oh my god, Ilya,” Shane puts his face in his hands, “we can never tell him that his kiss with Kip was what got us together officially.”

“Yes,” agrees Ilya. “He can never know.”

—

December 23, 2022 

It’s a picture Yuna had dug up from the International Prospect Cup. Shane was in the forefront, smiling in the lobby of the rink. Behind him, you can see a few of the young Russian players in a huddle, Ilya leaning against a pole. The only way you can tell it’s him is the curls and the ROZANOV (a few letters blocked with the hood) and the 81 on the back of his hoodie. A second image of a teenage Shane studying game tape intensely. Player 81 on the screen can be seen, very faintly, but it’s undeniable who it is.

Shane puts both pictures up and types out his caption.

shanehollanderhockeyplayer Almost fourteen years later, I can only imagine the look on seventeen-year-old Shane’s face if I could tell him he just met his future husband 🏒😍

Comments flood in. Some ask if this is a timeline reveal. Some want to know if it’s real, not quite ready to believe that Hollander and Rozanov are hitched. Shane doesn’t answer any of them.

Not willing to be outdone, Ilya posts a video. It’s dark, taken late in the night from bed.

“Solnyshko? Would you love me if I was a worm?” Ilya’s voice is soft, but startling.

“Ilya, I would love you if you were a loon,” comes Shane’s voice and the sound of sheets rustling. “Why the fuck are you awake?”

A sniffle is heard, and Ilya’s choked voice says, “You’d love me if I was a loon?”

A groan, more rustling sheets, the sound of a soft kiss, “Yes, I would love you no matter what. Can we go to bed now?”

Silence for about fifteen seconds.

“I’d also love you if you were a loon,” says Ilya. “Even though that’s the scariest animal you could be.”

“Good-night, Ilya.”

ilyarozanov81 how to keep the relationship alive after fourteen years 🦆 #thewholetime #loveofmylife 

Chapter End Notes

first! HAPPY PRIDE TO EVERYONE!!!

damn yall are excited for a david/shane fic with yuna no-contact. i am actively writing it, dw. it’ll go up as soon as it’s mine alone to disgrace is done. but, for fun, here’s two little snippets:

{“I didn’t choose this,” says Shane. He has to swallow against the lump in his throat.
“Then why is Ilya Rozanov in my house?”
That was the easiest answer Shane could give her, “Because I love him.”}

{“I don’t get it, but you’re my son and I want you to be happy. It might mean we don’t see you—I won’t see you very often, and it might kill me, but if he’s your forever person, I want you to choose him.”}