Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types, Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Yuna Hollander, David Hollander, Hayden Pike, Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau, Brad Hammersmith

Additional Tags:

Social Media, Hockey, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, basically they skip the situationship stage and go straight into the relationship stage, Secret Relationship, Humor, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Established Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Implied Sexual Content, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, guys I am hopping on the heated rivalry fic train because I felt left out and wanted to be included, Chaos Gremlin Ilya Rozanov, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Ilya Rozanov is a Menace, Ilya Rozanov is Whipped, Ilya Rozanov is a Little Shit

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-03-29 Completed: 2026-07-05 Words: 17,328 Chapters: 6/6

From His Lips to God's Ears

Summary

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ Happy to announce that I WILL be pounding Shane Hollander tonight! That ass is MINE!

@CliffMarleau✅Brother, please ask me before you post shit like this.

@BostonWAGOneDay pounding him into… the boards… right? RIGHT?

@HollanderBabe24 in my dreams 🙏🙏🙏

@HockeyFan81 PLEASE have someone proof-read this man’s Tweets.

@IllyaRozanovOfficial✅ what is ‘proof-read’? Internet tells me this mean
fix errors. What error? I said what I said.

@HockeyFan81 I’M SCREAMING

OR: Instead of just hooking up at the CCM shoot, Shane and Ilya start a serious relationship the summer before their rookie season. They are not public about their relationship, but Ilya sees no reason to lie when people ask him what he thinks of his biggest rival. Maybe it’s the Russian accent, though, because for some reason, everyone thinks he's joking.

Notes

This is the first fic I've been inspired to write in a long time. I have watched Heated Rivalry so many times now, and read so many fics, and I figured it was time to write one of my own.

Based on the singular thought 'what if Ilya said some suggestive shit during interviews and no one took him seriously, but my man was dead serious.'

Chapter 1

Chapter Notes

Shane did not have a lot of friends growing up. His mother used to tell him that it was normal to feel different. Shane had, in her words, his sights set on something greater. Not everyone would—or could—understand that. It was easier for him to accept her explanation. He had always felt weird compared to the other kids. Blaming his inability to connect with others on his drive was easier than acknowledging that something might actually be wrong with him. It was true, somewhat. It was hard to make friends when you turned down any invitation to hang out in favor of practice or travel games. Except, it was hard for Shane to make friends on his team, too.

Different. That’s what his father would say when Shane came back home from hockey practice sniffling away tears after being checked into the boards by one of the older kids. They had laughed at the way he had tried to correct their form when they were practicing slapshots. Calling him names. Saying, ‘aren’t you just a little know-it-all.’ There is nothing wrong with you, Shane. His father would tell him. You’re great. If they don’t see that, then something’s wrong with them.

No matter what his parents said, the weird, oil-slick shame he felt every time something happened that made him feel other followed him far past peewees, on into Juniors, and even the draft.

Then, there was that other problem. The girl problem.

Shane had one long-term girlfriend in high school—Jessica. But a lot of the time, it felt like she was sort of just there. If felt that being with her was something he did because it was another one of those things that he was supposed to do, not because he actually wanted to. Jessica was fine, nice, and by all accounts pretty. Except, Shane didn’t think that you were supposed to think your girlfriend was fine.

After the CCM photoshoot, things—changed, for Shane.

Being with Rozanov—Ilya, God, being with him had been more than just fine. Shane would have loved to be able to chock it up to some grand discovery that he maybe wasn’t one hundred percent straight. He would have loved for it to have nothing to do with the person and more to do with the fact that person was a man. Ilya felt like more than that, though. Shane had spent so much of his time growing up feeling as if he was speaking a different language than everyone else. It was like he was some animal at the zoo stuck behind a wall of glass, gazing out at the people passing by but never really being with them.

But with Ilya?

Ilya spoke English with a thick Russian accent and sentences with words missing, but somehow Shane felt understood.

‘You look pretty,’ he had said, face close. His tongue snapping on the t’s. Shane’s heart had done a stutter-step at the words, but he had scoffed them off anyway. It wouldn’t be the first time a hockey guy had teased him for being a pretty-boy. Except, when Ilya had repeated himself, there was an earnestness to it that Shane did not expect.

That, coupled with the fact that the shoot together had been Ilya’s idea, that Ilya had admitted to wanting to see him again, had Shane feeling warm and seen in a way he had never really felt before. When Ilya had asked Shane for his room number, he had given it gladly. When Ilya knocked, Shane opened.

*

The moment after the—encounter, for lack of a better word, was a precipice that Shane was teetering on the edge of. Ilya had said ‘I should go,’ and had headed for the door in what felt like slow motion. In front of Shane stretched two possibilities:

If Shane let Ilya leave, then maybe, maybe they would get more clandestine moments like this in the future. Maybe they would share looks across the ice. Maybe they would bump shoulders at MHL events. Maybe they would see each other again, but maybe not. The maybe not of it all cut Shane like a knife in a way he did not expect.

If Shane stopped him, maybe they could be something more. Maybe he would have someone who seemed to understand him, even as they spoke different languages. Maybe he would have someone look at him and, and really see him for once, and everything that Shane could never figure out how to say. Maybe he could have Ilya. Just the possibility of having Ilya sent him rocketing forward.

“Stay,” Shane said, the word punched out of him before he could fully think it through.

Ilya paused at the door, hand on the handle.

“Hollander,” Ilya huffed. His shoulders were tight, and he did not turn around.

“Shane,” he corrected, taking a single, brave step forward.

“Shane, then,” Ilya sighed, “this is not good idea.”

“If I recall correctly, it was your idea,” Shane joked, smile wry.

“Yes, yes. The—the messing around, maybe but,” Ilya waved a hand in the air as if it would encompass everything he could not find the words in English to explain, “staying is more, maybe too much.”

“It’s already more, isn’t it?” Shane asked desperately. He felt like a kid again then, off balance and unsure. Maybe Shane had misread things… again. It wouldn’t be unlike him to reach the wrong conclusions, to miss a social cue. Maybe today didn’t mean the same thing to Ilya as it had meant to Shane. Maybe all he wanted was an easy—

“Yes,” Ilya breathed, the word cutting off Shane’s spiraling thoughts. “Yes, I did not want it to be so, but, but I cannot escape you, Shane Hollander. I cannot escape your name, or your hockey, or your face, or your stupid, pretty freckles.” Ilya was still facing the door. His hand remained on the handle.

“Then stay,” Shane repeated, brave, begging, voice cracking, “please.”

Ilya let out a grumbling growl as he seemed to rip his fingers away from the door, turning back towards Shane and scooping him up by the thighs before lifting him back onto the bed. Shane let out a startled yelp.

“О боже, ты так прекрасна, умоляешь меня,” Ilya spoke the words into Shane’s neck, and Shane shivered with them, “okay, okay I stay.”

“How long?” Shane asked, breaths heavy, tilting his head back as Ilya pushed closer into him.

“I do not know, forever maybe, we will see,” Ilya answered, pressing another kiss into Shane’s skin.

Forever. The thought sent Shane reeling. He could have this forever.

*

“It wouldn’t be good… right? If we told people?” Shane asked, voice quiet. He rubbed the smooth fabric of the sheets between his fingers, attention fixed down.

“One blowjob and I am already getting ‘what are we’ talk?” Ilya smirked. His face softened when he saw the painful twist of Shane’s lips. “Hey, Hollander, we tell no one anything you do not want, ok? Anyways, is… would not be good for me, I think, if people knew,” Ilya said, words thick.

“Because of your family?” Shane asked, glancing upwards.

“Mmm,” Ilya hummed, “and because of Russia. Is not…good there. For people like me. I would not be able to go home again.”

“I’m sorry,” Shane breathed, lowering his head to rest on Ilya’s shoulder. He watched the way the warm light of the hotel room lamps shifted off of the cross dangling from Ilya’s neck.

“Is no great loss,” Ilya said, “my father—my brother—they have not… I have not had family for long time. Not since my mother. Even still. Is maybe best to not, what is word? Show off? No, ad-ver-tise.” The word stretched into three long syllables as he said it, like taffy on his tongue. “I think—hmm. I think maybe I will not lie, if someone ask. But maybe best until I have citizenship to not be—so obvious?”

“That makes sense,” Shane agreed, nodding from where he sank down against Ilya’s chest. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that kind of thing yet anyways—coming out. Maybe… I mean, someday obviously. But not now. Not so early in our careers. I don’t want to be known as—as the gay player, ya know? I’d like to be Shane Hollander, best center in the league, first.”

“Second best,” Ilya corrected firmly.

“Asshole,” Shane huffed, smacking him on his bare stomach lightly.

“Hey, hey! I just tell you I would not lie!” Ilya chuckled, swatting Shane’s hands away.

“I guess you’ll just have to work for it then,” Shane taunted.

“I guess I will,” Ilya smiled, and he leaned down and kissed Shane.

*            

“You will be Jane,” Ilya said, pulling Shane’s phone from his hands. They were standing next to each other by the hotel door, early morning sunlight drifting through the curtains. The both of them had put off getting up for as long as they could. Now there were flights to catch, and Shane’s mom had already knocked on his door once this morning before Shane had sent her away with a panicked, I’m getting dressed, wait for me in the lobby.

“And who will you be?” Shane asked, taking the phone back from Ilya. He felt a tug in his chest as their fingers brushed.

 Lily: Hi 😉

Shane looked at the message on his screen and smiled.

“It will be a while, yes, before I see you again?” Ilya asked. Ilya shifted heavily from one foot to the next as he said it, shoes scuffing softly against the rough hotel carpet.

“A few months,” Shane nodded.

“Then do not be stranger, Jane,” Ilya reached up to brush the freckles on Shane’s face with his thumb. “Gimme kiss,” he whispered.

Shane’s stomach flopped over at the words, and he leaned forward to press a kiss into Ilya’s lips.

“I will miss you,” Shane admitted quietly.

“да,” Ilya agreed. He gave Shane one last, sad smile as he slipped out the door and into the hall.

Shane stared at the door for a few long moments, even after it was shut.

*

@ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer✅ I would like to give a special thanks to CCM for the opportunity to collaborate! Thank you for having me! #CCMCampaign #Ad [Photo Attached]

@IlyaRozanovOfficial liked this tweet.

@HockeyStixxx His mom wrote this post and you cannot convince me
otherwise.

@MiaMetroz we are so excited to have you on the team this season!!! #RookieSeason

@LoverrErra what have hockey fans been hiding from meeeee send me to the boy aquariummmmmmm 🏒🐟

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ Is official, I am in new CCM ad, right next to pretty face of Shane Hollander. Only thing he can beat me in is beauty contest. #CCMCampaign #Ad [Photo Attached]

@ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer liked this tweet.

@HollanderBabe24 the man did not stutter. 😭

@BostonWAGOneDay already chirping at him before the season even starts. What kind of psychological warfare is this man waging???

            @TeamFreeWilly he’s Russian it’s in his blood.

@ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer✅ see you on the ice.

*

r/Hockey

u/BostonForTheCup: How do we all feel about Ilya Rozanov?

Ok everyone! This is a post mostly for the Boston fans, but if you want to have actual, nuanced takes in the comments and not just be an asshole because you hate Boston you are welcome to join in as well.

I was excited when we drafted Rozanov first overall. He was a strong player, won the Prospect Cup, and seemed like he could bring a kind of physicality to the game that the Raiders definitely need.

But now there’s this whole rivalry thing with Shane Hollander? I know they faced each other in Juniors a few times, obviously went 1-2 in the draft, and then there’s Montreal’s and Boston’s history… anyways my point is yes, there is a rivalry. The rivalry makes sense. But Shane Hollander seems to be like… the ‘golden boy’ of hockey. Butter couldn’t melt in that kid’s mouth. I’m just worried with the way Rozanov seems to be (i.e. a bit combative and cocky at times) that he’s going to be the villain in this story.

I mean… they did a CCM ad together and he was already chirping him in his official Tweet! I just don’t want this to get messy. I want my team to focus on playing hockey, not dropping their gloves on and off the ice.

u/underthehill you’re telling me… you don’t want a hockey rivalry… to get messy?

u/byebyeboston look, that tweet probably was a contractually agreed upon jab. Everyone and their dog wants to make money off of this rivalry. They’re playing it up for the cameras.

u/RaidMeDaddy I don’t care if Boston becomes the villain in this story, so long as we win cups, who cares?

             u/HockeyHead 100% He could call Hollander a slur on live TV for all I care, so long as we’re winning.

                           u/RaidMeDaddy ok actually I would not go that far.  

*

“Ilya, Ilya!”

In the grainy video on Shane’s phone screen, reporters called out to Ilya from where he stood, sweaty and shirtless outside of his locker room. His curls were damp, and his chest seemed to heave from the exertion of the game he had just won, beating Scott Hunter and New York handily 4-2 in their first matchup.

“Your first game against Montreal is next week, can you tell us how you’re feeling?” one of the reports asked.

On Shane’s screen, Ilya smirked.

“Is—Canada, yes?” Ilya asked, brow scrunched up as if he was confused.

“It’s Shane Hollander’s team!” A voice called out from behind the camera.

“And he is… goalie, yes?” Ilya questioned. He paused for a moment before cracking a smile. “Yes, will be good to play number two center in the league. Finally, some decent competition.”

Shane, despite the cockiness in Ilya’s words, warmed at the compliment.

“So, do you think Hollander has a chance to beat you in the scoring race this year?” A reporter asked.

“Ah, Hollander is very good. Not so good as me, but then again, who is?” Ilya joked, and the crowd outside his locker room chuckled in response.

“Asshole,” Shane mumbled to himself, fond.

“And what do you have to say about your rivalry with Hollander? Or the rivalry between Boston and Montreal’s programs?” A man asked, pushing his microphone forward.

“Is nothing better,” Ilya answered, “I cannot wait. Has been long time since I have chance to face Hollander on ice. Too long. I am… ah… as Marly says, ‘fired up.’”

The video on Shane’s phone ended, and Shane closed the browser, still smiling. He opened up his messages and scrolled to Ilya’s contact.

Jane: I saw your interview after the New York game, asshole.

Jane: …are you really looking forward to playing me?

Lily: yes

Lily: of course.

Lily: Hunter is old and slow and all I could think about when I beat his sad team and made them cry was next week I get to see you. Get to play you for first time in so long. Get to touch you.

Lily: I

Lily: I have miss you, Солнышко

Jane: I’ve missed you too, Ilya.

Jane: I can’t wait to see you.

Jane: And I can’t wait to beat you 😉

Lily: And you call me asshole!

Lily: No!

Lily: You are true asshole!

Lily: Soon, I see you.

Jane: Soon.

*

“God,” his mother scoffed, sitting across from him at the restaurant, “did you see that interview Rozanov gave after his New York game?”

Shane tried hiding the edge of his smile behind his hand. It was lunchtime, and the restaurant around them was busy. Shane was meeting his parents for lunch for the first time in about a week.

His father glanced up from his menu, “did he say something?”

“Doesn’t he always? The attitude!” His mother seemed indignant. Shane could see why, given the circumstances, but he didn’t know what to say to make the situation any better. Instead, he kicked the ground with his foot absentmindedly and thumbed at his own menu.

“Asked if Montreal was in Canada!” His mom continued, turning towards Shane’s father, “acted like he didn’t know who Shane was!”

“Mom,” Shane said quietly.

“I mean—I mean come on—”

“Mom.” The word was firmer this time, and his mother stopped her rant to look up at him, “it’s fine.”

“He shouldn’t say things like that,” she protested.

“He was… he was making a joke, mom. It’s fine. He’s not a bad guy, really!” Shane explained.

She huffed, “I just think it isn’t very sportsmanlike is all.”

“He texted me, after—” Shane admitted quietly, a part of him, a big part of him, could not stand to hear his mother talk badly about Ilya, “I’ve had his number… since that CCM shoot? He told me after that he was looking forward to playing me next week. Honestly. He meant nothing by it. He was just making a scene for the cameras.”

“If you say so,” his mother drawled, rolling her eyes.

It was frustrating, for Shane. If he said too much, if he gave Ilya too much benefit of the doubt, then surely his mother and father would see right through him. Shane wasn’t good at making friends, they knew that. If he was somehow friends with Rozanov of all people, Shane was sure that they would put two-and-two together.

Shane wanted to fight his mother more on this. He wanted to tell her that Ilya was a good person. That sure, he was a cocky asshole, but that he… that he was nice, too. Kind. That he cared about Shane. Instead, he just gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the menu, shoving the feelings down. He didn’t like lying to his parents. He just couldn’t figure out how to tell them, either. Shane would, one day. He promised himself that.

*

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ Happy to announce that I WILL be pounding Shane Hollander tonight! That ass is MINE!

@CliffMarleau✅Brother, please ask me before you post shit like this.

@BostonWAGOneDay pounding him into… the boards… right? RIGHT?

@HollanderBabe24 in my dreams 🙏🙏🙏

@HockeyFan81 PLEASE have someone proof-read this man’s Tweets.

               @IllyaRozanovOfficial✅ what is ‘proof-read’? Internet tells me this mean fix errors. What error? I said what I said.

                             @HockeyFan81 I’M SCREAMING

                             @CliffMarleau✅🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️

Chapter End Notes

О боже, ты так прекрасна, умоляешь меня - Oh God, you are so beautiful—begging me. (or something like that).

More to come, but let me know if you like it!

Chapter 2

Chapter Summary

@HollanderBabe24 Ok now that we’ve all seen his latest photoshoot we can all agree that Shane Hollander is the prettiest guy in the league, right? RIGHT?

@IlyaRozanovOfficial liked this tweet.

@HollanderBabe24 Ilya babes, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE???

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅Oh, so what, I am not allowed to like true statement now? Is not free country???

            @CliffMarleau✅Brother.

            @HockeyFan81 I can’t defend this man anymore.

            @HollanderBabe24 that’s it. I’m starting a rumor.

Chapter Notes

Guys thank you so much for the kind words on the first chapter. I was pretty overwhelmed by the support for this fic, as it's been so long since I've tried my hand at writing, so I really appreciate it! :)

@HollanderBabe24 Ok now that we’ve all seen his latest photoshoot we can all agree that Shane Hollander is the prettiest guy in the league, right? RIGHT?

@IlyaRozanovOfficial liked this tweet.

@HollanderBabe24 Ilya babes, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE???

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅Oh, so what, I am not allowed to like true
statement now? Is not free country???

            @CliffMarleau✅Brother.

            @HockeyFan81 I can’t defend this man anymore.

            @HollanderBabe24 that’s it. I’m starting a rumor.

*

Shane found Ilya on the roof. Even so far removed from the party downstairs, the buzz of noise still traveled, muffled, up to their quiet sanctuary. Shane walked up to Ilya, quiet. His eyes scanned over the city lights stretched out before them.

“I’m sorry,” Shane started. He turned his head to look at Ilya bent over the railing, cigarette dangling from one hand.

“No ‘sorry,’” Ilya sighed, “you deserve award. What is saying… I will get you next year? But will not be Rookie of Year, will be MVP, yes? After I kiss cup?”

Shane let out a dry, startled laugh, “yeah. Yeah, that works.”

Ilya hummed. His gaze was still set forward, out toward the dark horizon. In the months that they’d been together, this was the first time that Shane truly felt wrong-footed and unsure of where he stood. If Ilya was feeling well, he would have continued on to say something like, but I kiss you first, and given him a cocky smile. With the low sounds of the city surrounding them, Shane was at a loss of what to say.

“I just… you seem upset, standing out here all alone,” Shane explained.

“Maybe, a little. Is not so much award, though,” Ilya admitted. He took another long drag from his cigarette.

Shane placed his hand on the railing in front of him and slid it over slowly so that his pinky brushed Ilya’s. This year—it was like a dream come true for him. He got to play first line center on the Metros, he got to win Rookie of the Year, and he got to have Ilya, even if it was only in stolen text conversations and meetings after games. He—Shane thought he was really starting to like Ilya. Ilya made him happy in a way he never really was before. He wanted to be able to make Ilya happy too.

“Is it… Russia?” Shane asked.

Ilya nodded, silent, as he sucked in a breath of smoke through his teeth.

“I know it’s more complicated than just not wanting to go home,” Shane told him. He nudged his hand firmer against Ilya’s, slipping it under so that he was finally grasping Ilya’s fingers with his own. He gave Ilya’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Ilya took another shaky inhale.

“I know things with your brother—your father—they’re complicated. I wish—I wish I could make it better, for you. That I could be better, for you,” Shane whispered.

“Нет, no, Солнышко,” now, Ilya turned to look at him, “you must understand. You are best thing.” Ilya stubbed his cigarette out on the railing and threw it to the ground to crush underneath his foot.

“Look at me,” he said, voice soft, but there was a desperate firmness to his words. He reached up with his freed hand to grasp at Shane’s chin. The motion dragged Shane’s gaze upward. “In my life, you are very best thing.”

“I’m supposed to be comforting you, I think,” Shane said, voice wet.

“Is no good, cannot have pretty boyfriend thinking he is not good enough, just because I am sad,” Ilya told him.

Shane’s face twisted into a small smile, “I don’t want you to be sad. I want to make you happy, like you make me happy.”

“You make me so, so happy котенок. I have no words for how happy you make me. Is other things which make me unhappy. Is stupid brother. Is sick father. Is…” Ilya trailed off slightly. He took the hand that was on Shane’s chin and dragged it up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing along Shane’s freckles, “is leaving you. I get so little time already, I cannot bear it.”

“Don’t go back to Russia,” Shane whispered. Ilya’s whole body seemed to still. “Stay, in Ottawa, with me.”

Ilya let out a shuddering breath, “I would love to, Shane. But I cannot. Not this year, not this summer. Maybe… maybe I get my… what is word? My things? My… my business?”

“Affairs,” Shane supplied.

“Yes, maybe this year I get my affairs in order and then… then maybe…” Ilya trailed off.

“I’m going to build a big cottage on a lake,” Shane told him, decisive, this time grasping both of Ilya’s hands with is own, “it’ll be nice, and quiet, and our own little world away from everything. And when you’re ready, you can join me there.”

“I would like that, yes,” Ilya breathed.

In the quiet night, Shane leaned up and kissed him.

*

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ So Shane Hollander win Rookie of the Year, so what? Rookie of the Year is like award for child. Ooooh you are best beginner. Fits for Hollander. Like baby deer standing on ice. He look like baby deer too. Big doe eyes and spotted freckles. Adorable, but not so good at hockey.

@MetroHaydenPike✅ You know, given that you were ALSO nominated for this award you are really only insulting yourself here…

            @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ Why is 15^th best metro in my mentions?

*

Jane: I found this really great plot of land on the water.

Jane: [photo attached]

Jane: My realtor suggested a pretty accomplished architect who is going to draw up some plans.

Jane: I can show you more pictures when I see you later :)

Jane: I hope you are going to love it there.

Ilya read Shane’s messages and smiled down at his phone. He was standing in the locker room after practice the day before their first game against the Metros. He hadn’t gotten to see Shane since he got back from Russia, but tonight he finally would get the chance to hold him again after months apart. It was a home game, and Montreal had flown in the day before. That meant Ilya would get all afternoon, evening, and then the whole next morning with Shane. Ilya was thrumming with the anticipation of it.

Lily: I will

Lily: Anywhere with you I will

Jane: I don’t think it will be ready by this summer, but next summer for sure.

Jane: Maybe we could… rent a cottage on the lake in the meantime?

Lily: You can tell me all about your plans tonight 😉

Ilya was just about to shove his phone into his bag when Marleau knocked shoulders with him.

“Who ya texting, brother?” He asked, craning his neck to peak at the phone screen. “Ah! Jane!” He exclaimed, clapping his hands together once, firm, “Hammersmith you owe me 20 bucks!”

“Shut up Marly you know I didn’t take that bet,” Hammersmith sighed, “we all know Rozy’s whipped.”

“Whipped?” Ilya asked, glancing around the room, “what is whipped?”

“It means when your girl calls, you answer,” Marleau grinned, shoving Ilya’s shoulder.

“Of course, why would I not do this?” Ilya asked, confused, he dramatically looked around the room at the other guys, “do you not treat your women well? You leave them unsatisfied and lonely, yes? I would not do this. My Jane is always very satisfied,” he smirked.

The locker room filled with a mix of wolf-whistles and groans.

The Raider’s knew that Ilya was a taken man and had been since he joined his rookie season. The first time he had been out at a club with the team after a victory, they had all asked him if he was going to let loose that night and live a little, maybe find someone to take home. He had soundly shut them down with a I am here for the drinks and my friends and nothing more. They knew his ‘girlfriend’ lived in Montreal, but Ilya wasn’t sure what they thought about her visiting any time Montreal played Boston at home. He suspected that they thought she worked for the Metros, but no one had ever said such a thing to him directly.

“You are too love-sick for your own good kid,” Marleau sighed, shaking his head. “When are we gonna get to meet her, man?”

Ilya turned back to his phone, rereading their last messages with a fond look on his face.

“You have met,” he said with a quirk of his lips.

“What?” Marleau huffed, “I’m pretty sure I would have remembered meeting your Montreal girl.”

“Is Shane Hollander,” Ilya told them, “now let’s beat him tomorrow, yes?”

“You’re a mad man, Rozy!” Hammersmith called out, as the room broke into laughs. This was not the first time that he had suggested ‘Jane’s’ true identity to his teammates, but for some reason, they never seemed to take the hint.

*

r/hockey

u/puckdropz: Can we talk about how Ilya Rozanov is like… weird about Shane Hollander?

At what point do his jokes cross a line, honestly? Obviously his tweets are… something. But then he made that comment in an interview last week about how Hollander was like… “made for him” or something? It’s just getting uncomfortable at this point. I know the MLH is like... the posterchild for homophobic sports leagues but come on, at some point it just becomes targeted. I just hope he doesn’t say anything else stupid after their game tomorrow night. I love Boston, I love the Raiders, hell I love Roz most of the time, but every time that man opens his mouth in an interview I am bracing myself to cringe.

u/BostonForTheCup I literally said something along these lines last year when I was worried Boston was going to become the villain in this rivalry, and I’m a little afraid my predictions are coming true.

u/HockeyHead God, everyone is so sensitive these days. You need to let it go. If Hollander can’t handle a little shit-talking he doesn’t belong in the league.

[u/HollanovTruther why can’t anyone consider the possibility that the man is not joking and is being 100% genuine?] mods have deleted this comment for being against community rules. Reason: trolling.

*

“Shane!” Hayden called out, “Boston Lily is calling!”

Shane barreled out of the bathroom toward his phone set on the edge of his hotel bed. The Metro’s plane had landed at Logan Airport an hour ago, right about the time the Raider’s practice had ended. Shane had texted Ilya the entire ride to the hotel from the airport about the spot on the lake he had found. Since then, Shane had been waiting for the all-clear that Ilya was home and ready for him—mostly killing the time by anxiously fixing his hair and straightening his clothes in the bathroom mirror. He had seen Hayden’s numerous side-eyes, but Shane was graciously choosing to ignore them.

“Thanks!” He nodded to Hayden before scooping up his phone, pressing it to his ear, and stepping out into the hall.

“You are still coming, yes?” Ilya’s voice asked over the line as soon as the call connected, “practice has ended, I got you only thing at Dunkin’ you find ac-cept-a-ble to drink, and now all I do is sit here and wait for you.”  

Shane was relieved that he didn’t seem to be the only one of them who was excited for today. He had talked to Ilya while he was in Russia, but a part of him had been nervous that maybe Shane missed Ilya more than Ilya missed him. Ilya’s words helped soothe those fears, but some of his doubt still remained.

“Yes, of course,” Shane answered, leaning back against the wall in the hallway. “You know, I’d be over there faster, but I was just rudely interrupted trying to get my things together.” Shane immediately smiled at the sound of Ilya’s dramatic groan over the line.

“Bahhhh you wound me, Hollander. Hurry, yes? I cannot wait to see you,” Ilya told him honestly.

“I can’t wait to see you, either,” Shane said, voice soft.

He hung up the phone and slinked back into the room to grab his overnight bag.

“Lily, eh?” Hayden said with a wink. As Hayden was his regular away-game roommate, it was not the first time Hayden had to bear witness to Shane slipping out of the team hotel to spend the night with Ilya.

“Shut up, man!” Shane protested, but he couldn’t fight the smile on his face as he said, “don’t wait up, alright?”

“When do I ever?” Hayden asked.

Shane laughed as he threw his jacket on over his shoulders and slipped out the door.

*

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅I overheard girls in line for Dunkin after practice playing Smash or Pass game. Say they would smash Hollander. I say no, they cannot do this, is my job, yes?

@HockeyStixxx I think you are misunderstanding the nature of the game…

            @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ I feel nature of game is obvious.  

                        @BostonWAGOneDay not this shit again 🤦‍♂️

                        @MrsIlyaRozanov are you sure babes?

*

“Missed you,” Ilya said, kissing down the sweaty line of Shane’s chest, “missed you very much, my Солнышко.”

Shane reached up to shove his fingers into Ilya’s curls, “me too. So, so much, Ilya.”

Shane felt warm under the weight of Ilya’s attention. The afternoon had slid by in a soft, desperate sort of reunion, and Shane was finally feeling settled after months apart. Shane hadn’t realized it at the time, but now that he was in Ilya’s presence, it was clear that over the last few months, he hadn’t felt as at home in his own skin as he did when Ilya was near.

“We talk on phone, is not enough. I watch you give interviews after game, I am thinking I wish you were with me instead,” Ilya admitted, pulling back slightly to look at Shane in the eyes.

“It never feels like enough,” Shane agreed. There were still so many questions about the future for them, about what they would be able to have and what kind of life they could carve out for themselves. Shane wasn’t sure that even if he got everything he could possibly imagine it would ever feel like enough. Shane would always want more of Ilya. More kisses. More soft words. More time.

“You are very special to me, Shane,” Ilya said quietly, leaning into to whisper the words against Shane’s lips, “Я тебя люблю.”

Shane’s whole body froze, before he melted into Ilya’s grip.

“I love you too,” Shane breathed.

Ilya gasped sharply and pulled back, eyes wild. “You—you understand Russian? When did you do this?”

“Not much!” Shane assured him, rubbing his hand up one of Ilya’s arms, “I was just… practicing. I thought it would be romantic, if I told you… in Russian.”

Ilya’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “Yes,” he nodded, “very romantic. Say it.”

“Ya teb-ya lyub-lyu,” Shane tried. His pronunciation was strained, but Ilya’s face split into a bright smile anyways.

“Yes, yes, I love you too, so, so much,” Ilya said, and he leaned down to kiss Shane soundly, “I will show you how much as many times as possible before game tomorrow.”

*

@ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer✅ We really whipped the Raiders into shape tonight! Grateful for my team and our 3-1 win over Boston!

@MetroHaydenPike✅ Love you, man!

@MiaMetroz Preach king 🙌

@HollanderBabe24 All we do is win, win, win no matter what.

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ Marly tell me ‘whipped’ means answering girlfriend’s call? But yes, I am very whipped 😊

            @HockeyFan81 . . .

Chapter End Notes

Shane in bed with Ilya, trying to draft that tweet: Am I doing it right???

Chapter 3

Chapter Summary

“Yes. Maybe organizers are cowards. Do not want to see me and Shane Hollander on same line. Would beat any competition. Would be boring to watch, maybe. So many goals against so few. Not for me though, would be magic,” Ilya’s blood thrummed at just the thought of it—the exhilaration of getting the chance to play with Shane for once, instead of against him.

“Magic? What do you mean by that?” A reporter asked.

“Me and Hollander have—what is word? Chemistry.”

Chapter Notes

Sorry this chapter took so long to post, I was hoping to have it out sooner, but I had a very long week and then caught a cold :/

“Ilya, another season, another All Star Game, how does it feel to be an All Star two years in a row?”

Ilya squinted against the bright lights of cameras in front of him. He was seated at the press table for the MLH All Star game, answering reporters’ questions. It was somewhat easier now, doing press than it had been his rookie season. His English comprehension was improving enough that Ilya was more confident in his own ability to understand what was being asked of him and respond, but he still got nervous sometimes. Being cocky in interviews usually helped him hide the nerves. Any slip-up he made could come off as just another Rozanov jab.

“Is great, is honor. Get to play with players I am usually playing against, too. Which can be fun,” Ilya told the crowd of reporters.

“Except for Shane Hollander, of course!” One called out. Shane had been on a different All Star team than him last year, too. Ilya suspected with their rivalry, it was a trend that would continue on for years to come.

“Yes. Maybe organizers are cowards. Do not want to see me and Shane Hollander on same line. Would beat any competition. Would be boring to watch, maybe. So many goals against so few. Not for me though, would be magic,” Ilya’s blood thrummed at just the thought of it—the exhilaration of getting the chance to play with Shane for once, instead of against him.

“Magic? What do you mean by that?” A reporter asked.

“Me and Hollander have—what is word? Chemistry.”

*

@ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer✅ On the ice, I work hard. Off the ice, I enjoy the refreshing taste of City Seltzer. This summer, be sure to kick back with their new Orange Creamsicle flavor! 🍊🍦#CitySeltzer #ad [Photo Attached]

@MiaMetroz You look thirsty. 🥵🥤

           @IlyaRozanovOfficial liked this tweet.

            @MetroMania @ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer I can help with that. [Gif of Katniss Everdeen yelling ‘I volunteer as tribute.’]

                        @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅no.

*

“I think I want to,” Shane whispered. It was their first summer together. Shane’s new cottage was being built about fifteen minutes away on the other side of the lake where they were staying, and his parents’ cottage was another five-minute drive from there.

Shane was sitting on the couch with Ilya’s head in his lap, carefully playing with Ilya’s hair.

“Want to what?” Ilya asked, glancing up at Shane.

“I think I want to tell my parents. I mean—if you’re… if you’re okay with that,” Shane said. He let out a shuddering breath.

It was something he had thought about a lot the past few months. He thought about it more every time his mom made a comment about Ilya or something he had said. As time went on, her dislike for him only seemed to grow. Shane was scared—of how they would react, of what they would say—but at this point, Shane knew Ilya was worth it. That he was worth everything. Shane wanted them to really know Ilya. To love him like Shane loved him. He didn’t want to hide anymore.

“Tell them… about us?” Ilya pushed himself up into a sitting position, and Shane slid over to give him room.

“Yeah,” Shane breathed, “yeah I think I want to tell them about us.”

“Okey,” Ilya smiled.

*

Shane had his hands clenched on the steering wheel from where he sat in his car outside of his parent’s cottage. His grip was hard enough to hurt, but the feeling seemed to ground Shane, somewhat. He took one deep breath, then another.

“Hey,” Ilya said, clutching the back of Shane’s neck and shushing him softly, “hey, is okay. They are your parents. It will be okay.”

Shane made a sound in the back of his throat and nodded. “I know, I know, it’s just—” Shane lowered his head to rest it on his steering wheel. One more breath. In – out. No matter how much he wanted to tell his parents, the uncertainty of it all still made his insides twist.

“Mmm,” Ilya hummed, understanding, “is scary. But I will be with you, so is not so scary, yes?” The hand on the back of Shane’s neck squeezed once, reassuring.

Shane cracked a smile. “Yeah,” he sighed.

“Now deep breath, and then we go in. I am pretty sure they can see us from big glass window,” Ilya said, tilting his head towards the house.

Shane glanced up to where his parents were standing by the front window, looking out at them.

“Shit, fuck,” Shane swore, scrambling to undo his seatbelt.

“Breathe, Shane. Will be ok,” Ilya soothed, following Shane calmly out of the car.

Ilya stayed a foot or two behind Shane as he walked up to the door, and remained at that distance as they entered, standing somewhat awkwardly in the hall.

“Hi mom, dad,” Shane said, voice stilted. He could feel the weight of his parents’ gaze in a way that made his stomach flop. The beat of silence between his greeting and their response made Shane’s heartbeat quicken.

Ilya reached out with his fingers to snag Shane’s back beltloop, a reminder of the presence right behind him. Shane felt the gentle tug as he tried to calm the stutter-step of his heart.

“Hello Shane,” Yuna started. David and Yuna stood in the living room, tense. A mix of concern and confusion twisted on their faces. Shane watched as Yuna’s eyes shifted from him to his father, her eyes asking something that Shane could not read.  

“And this is… Ilya. Rozanov,” Shane introduced, “but you knew that.” Shane held out a hand at his side and Ilya stepped forward into the space next to Shane to take it into his own.

“Hello,” Ilya said, the word stretching into two, flat syllables. He gave Yuna and David a polite nod.

Shane took another breath, focusing on the weight of Ilya’s hand, the warmth of Ilya at his side.

“To what do we…” David paused, shifting awkwardly and glancing at Yuna, “owe the pleasure?”

“Well uh… can we sit?” Shane asked, the question unsure.

Yuna said nothing, just turned sharply on her heel and walked over to the dining table with stilted steps.

The silence made Shane queasy. He knew that his mother was not a fan of Ilya. He knew that she felt like Ilya had taken something from Shane when he was picked first in the draft. Yuna was a die-hard Montreal fan long before Shane was drafted, but Shane knew that getting drafted to her home team was soured in her mind by the fact that Ilya was drafted first. He knew that she cringed every time Ilya brought Shane up in an interview. He knew that she couldn’t stand that Ilya’s accomplishments rivaled Shane’s own.

Shane didn’t know if he would be able to explain to her that none of that mattered—to him. That as much as he loved hockey, loved winning, loved being the best—none of it meant anything, anymore, as much as Ilya did.

“Well?” Yuna asked expectantly once they had all sat down. She stared at him from across the table, eyebrows raised.

Shane was struck by a strange feeling… sitting in this house, with so many good memories. There were photos of his childhood on the walls. There was evidence of his existence in scuffs on the floor, on notches in the doorframes. For a brief moment, before he said anything at all, Shane wondered if his parents would be able to look at him the same, after this. Shane wondered if what he was about to say would make them forget the memory of the little boy that lived between these walls.

“I um… I’m gay,” Shane said with a shrug of his shoulders. “I wanted to tell you but—I was scared, I guess. I didn’t think you’d be bad about it but… I don’t know…” Shane trailed off.

Shane felt Ilya’s foot tap his under the table. He took a fortifying breath before he continued.

“But—I’m gay. And I’m seeing… I’ve been… Ilya and I are together.” The words fell out of Shane in a rush.

Yuna put a hand over her mouth, sucking in a shaky breath. David straightened in his seat.

“Boyfriends,” Ilya nodded sagely.

“I don’t—understand,” Yuna said with a shake of her head.

“I guess, I guess we always suspected you might be—gay,” David agreed, voice careful and calm. He reached over to take his wife’s hand, “but… Rozanov?”

“Ilya,” Shane corrected.

“Ilya, sorry,” David acknowledged. He smiled at the two of them kindly.

“He always says the worst things about you in interviews! Posts the most horrible jokes about you, Shane!” Yuna protested, her voice raised.

“Like what?” Shane questioned, voice hard and defensive, “That I’m… pretty? That he… wants me?”

“Is not joke,” Ilya told them, “he is very pretty, no?” He turned to smile fondly at Shane.

“Exactly,” Shane said, blushing and looking down at the table to avoid his parents’ gazes, “everyone thinks he’s joking when he says shit like that. They assume he must be what, messing with me? That he’s being some kind of asshole. And his is, an asshole I mean but… but I love him too. I’ve loved him for a while now.”

“How long has this been going on?” Yuna asked, brow furrowed.

“Rookie season,” Shane admitted.

“No, no. Is not true. Before that, summer before,” Ilya corrected. Shane felt the weight of Ilya’s hand on his thigh.

Yuna sucked in a sharp breath, “you’ve been in love since—”

“Yes,” Shane and Ilya agreed. Ilya squeezed Shane’s thigh under the table as they said it.

“Wow,” David’s voice was little more than a breath, but his face twisted into an amazed sort of smile.

“Two years?” Yuna asked, dumbfounded, “this whole time? So, the rivalry—”

“It’s real—in the sense that I love playing against him. No one matches me like Ilya does,” Shane told them honestly. He turned to give Ilya a slanted grin.

“Yes, although I am best hockey player, Shane is close second,” Ilya joked.

Yuna scoffed, offended.

“Mom,” Shane pleaded.

“I tell jokes, Mrs. Hollander. But I admire your son. He is great player, dedicated. No one works as hard as Shane, not even me,” Ilya said, voice serious. His words were slow and careful as he spoke. Shane could tell that Ilya wanted to get this just right.

“You’re right about that,” Yuna said.

“I love him very much,” Ilya assured her.  

Across the table, David put his arm around Yuna.

“We are very happy for you,” David told them, “It is a shock, for both of us, but we are so, so happy for you.”

Yuna nodded, eyes watery, “I’m sorry if I made it seem like—if you felt like you couldn’t tell me. That I wouldn’t understand. It is—this is a lot but…” she reached across the table to brush the hair out of Shane’s eyes, “I want you to be happy, baby. And if… if Ilya makes you happy…”

“He does,” Shane said, firm.

“Then we love him too,” Yuna told him.

Shane felt like his whole body relaxed with her words. Of all the worst-case scenarios his mind had thrown at him, none of them had happened. His parents had been shocked, but they weren’t mad at him. They didn’t yell at him, disown him, or tell them to leave. They listened. They still loved him. Maybe, one day, they would really love Ilya, too.

“So, what’s the plan?” Yuna asked.

“I was hoping that maybe you could help us with that,” Shane answered.

*

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ Happy American Thanksgiving to all who celebrate. The Raiders tell me I must make post about what I am grateful for. Team spirit and Holiday spirit they say. So three things I can not live without: 1) Cigarette, 2) Russian Vodka, 3) Shane Hollander (not in this order). #HappyThanksgiving #GoRaiders

@ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer liked this tweet.

@HollanderBabe24 Literallyyyyyy. This man is just like me for real. #facts

@BostonWAGOneDay uh

@MonTreeAll is no one going to acknowledge that Shane Hollander liked this?

@CliffMarleau✅Brother, you have got to be kidding me with this shit.

            @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ No no you are right, I lie. I am trying to quit smoking. #whipped #anythingformylove

@TMZ✅Boston Raider’s MLH player Ilya Rozanov admits to quitting smoking for secret girlfriend in Thanksgiving Day Twitter post, read about it below…

*

The roar of TD Arena surrounded him, but at center ice, Shane’s focus narrowed onto just the man across from him. Shane stared down Ilya across the face-off circle. Ilya shot him a wicked smirk in return.

“Ready to lose?” Shane taunted.

“Mmm, like hissing kitten, very cute of you котенок,” Ilya grinned.

The two of them jostled sticks for a moment, then the puck dropped.

*

“Hollander, Hollander!” A reporter called out from the crowd, “how does it feel to win against the Raiders in Boston after an early season loss to them just a couple months ago?”

“Montreal and Boston have a lot of history, a storied rivalry. It is always an honor to bring a win back home to Montreal,” Shane said.

“You and Rozanov appeared very talkative in the faceoff circle today, can you give us any insights into what was said?” Another reporter asked.

“It would not be the first time that Rozanov and I traded words across the ice, and it won’t be the last. Just some friendly competition,” Shane explained.

“That is an interesting way to describe your long-time rivalry with Rozanov. ‘Friendly competition,’” the reporter pointed out.

“The media wants us to be a lot of things, but in all honesty, I’ve known Rozanov for many years now. Longer than our time here in the MLH. He is a strong player. He is a professional. And he is a lot of fun to beat,” Shane smiled with the words, “There is no bad blood there.”

“Rozanov seems to take personal entertainment in taunting you both on and off the ice,” one reported started, “do you have any comment on that?”

“I’m not sure what you are referring to,” Shane said.

“Surely you’ve noticed the social media posts!” The reporter exclaimed.

“We seem to have very different definitions of ‘taunting,’” Shane smirked, “if anything, I take it as a compliment.”

*

r/hockey

u/HollanovTruther: Why Hollanov is 100% real and I can prove it.

Ok ok ok, I know I’m going to have a LOT of haters in the comments here, but I’m just here to spread the good word of Hollanov. Obviously, everybody knows that Ilya Rozanov likes to chirp at Shane Hollander, often in ways the internet describes as ‘homophobic’ or even that Rozanov’s English is too bad to understand what he is actually implying (I think this take is a little xenophobic honestly). Here’s the thing though… I think the man is being genuine. We’ve had some bangers like Ilya Rozanov liking a tweet calling Shane Hollander the prettiest player in the league and then defending himself for liking it. We have… Ilya Rozanov saying he would smash Hollander in a game of smash or pass. All of this is great, yes… but we ALSO have golden boy Hollander getting in on this. In Ilya’s Thanksgiving tweet this year, he said he was grateful for Shane Hollander, and Shane LIKED THE TWEET. In his most recent post-game interview, Shane even said he took Ilya’s comments as a COMPLIMENT. So really, there are two possibilities here: 1) Ilya really is some homophobic asshole who posts tweets sexualizing his rival and calling him a pretty boy, but Hollander isn’t bothered by it because he is being the bigger person in all of this. Or 2) Hollander isn’t bothered by it for a very different reason (and that reason is they’re fucking). I think it’s the second one.

u/byebyeboston MODS

u/MetroDynasty You people are delusional. Rozanov is literally out here trolling every other day, and you think he’s… what? Hitting on Shane Hollander? Give me a fucking break.

u/ShaneHollandersLeftBoob *nods seriously* yes, yes… of course… GUARDS!

u/HockeyHead The mods in this subreddit have really been dropping the ball lately, letting crap like this stay posted.  

Mods have deleted this post for being against community rules. Reason: spam and trolling.

*

@MrsIlyaRozanov I’m beginning to think that Ilya Rozanov is like those guys in high school who say their girlfriend lives in Canada (read: she is not real). All this yapping about how he is whipped, how he is in love, and yet she has never been seen with him in public.

@CliffMarleau✅ @IlyaRozanovOfficial Has Montreal Girl been fake this whole time???

            @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅Is not lie, my love lives in Canada. <3

            @MiaMetroz MONTREAL GIRL?????????????????????

            @HockeyFan81 Imagine Ilya Rozanov getting a Montreal girlfriend just to stake his claim on Hollander’s town. LOL

Chapter End Notes

"I totally have a girlfriend!"

"Then why have we never met her?"

"Uh.... she goes to a different school... in... Canada."

Chapter 4

Chapter Summary

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅My Christmas wish this year would be for Stanley Cup, but that is already a given, so would be waste of a wish #RaiderNation #MetrosareBad #ScottHunterIsOld

@CliffMarleau✅ You know it! #RaiderNation

@MetroHaydenPike✅ 🙄🙄🙄

@Hunter5Ever Not Scotty catching strays 😭

            @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅🦕

@HollanderBabe24 I must have Stockholm syndrome or something because I definitely thought this was going to be a post about how his Christmas wish is to take a bite out of Shane Hollander’s ass or something.

            @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅Do not need to wish for, already have 🤷

                        @HollanderBabe24 aaaaaand there it is.

Chapter Notes

This one took me a while in part because I think a lot of important plot moments happen in this one, and I wanted to get them right. Thank you all for the kind words on the last chapter! Almost done :)

“Shane!” Ilya yelled from the other room.

Shane glanced up from the book he was reading on the couch—an autobiography of an old Ottawa goal tender.

“What?” He called back, craning his neck from where he was lying against the armrest to look back at the door leading to the kitchen.

“Come! It is EMERGENCY!” Ilya demanded.

Shane sighed heavily. He was quite certain it was, in fact, not an emergency. He marked his page in the book before setting it on the coffee table.

When Shane arrived at the ‘scene of the crime,’ he saw his father and Ilya standing over the kitchen table, looking at what appeared to be a finished puzzle, except for a single piece missing.

“Look!” Ilya exclaimed, motioning wildly at the table.

Shane shot a glance at his father, who was standing with his arms crossed.

“It’s a new box,” David shrugged, “so we know the piece has to be here somewhere.”

This summer, Shane and Ilya spent some more time down by the lake in a cottage they were renting, but they had also been spending some of their days at Shane’s parent’s house. David had been teaching Ilya how to cook and also had instilled, apparently, a love of jigsaw puzzles.

“It is relaxing,” Ilya had told him the first time Shane found him putting a puzzle together with Shane’s father, “you like relaxing Mr. Yoga Man.” For all Ilya insisted puzzles were relaxing, he seemed to take to the task with a level of serious precision. But—now that Shane thought about it—that was also how he treated yoga.

“I mean—” Shane shrugged, “surely it’s just on the floor or something.” He leaned down to look at the floor under the table. It was spotless. “And if it’s not there—I’m not sure how I’d be much help.”

“Ох, чёрт!” Ilya swore. He went back to searching the surrounding area—ducking under the table, moving chairs, picking up the box and putting it back down as if checking under it again would somehow reveal the piece.

David looked on, helpless.

“What’s going on in here?” Yuna asked, walking into the kitchen, brow furrowed. The clatter and commotion must have been loud even from the other room where she had been looking over some of Shane’s recent contracts.

“They’re missing a piece,” Shane explained, waving a hand toward the table.

Yuna huffed a laugh, before pulling out a puzzle piece from her pocket and snapping it into place.

“I win,” She said simply, patting David on the chest and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“You don’t win at puzzles!” David protested.

Ilya stared at her, affronted.

“I just did,” Yuna smiled.

*

Ilya traced patterns on Shane’s bare chest, fingers dragging across sweat-slick skin. In a moment of temptation, he leaned down to suck a mark onto the skin over Shane’s heart. The Raiders had just played the Metros in their first match-up of the season, and the two of them were currently wrapped up in the sheets at Shane’s apartment.

Shane hummed, leaning into the sensation.

Ilya pulled back and returned to drawing shapes as Shane tugged at Ilya’s curls.  

Ilya was quiet for a long moment, deep in thought.

“I do not want you to speak to me when we are in Russia,” Ilya said. Shane had told him, after they were both selected for their respective Olympic teams, that he was excited to go to Russia for the first time, with Ilya. That he was excited to see the place that Ilya called home. At the time, Ilya did not have the heart to tell him his true feelings about the time they would spend in Russia.

Shane looked at him sharply, his face twisting into hurt.

“No, no моя любовь, not like this, I do not mean it like this,” Ilya soothed, pressing his palm firmly down against Shane’s chest, smoothing it across Shane’s skin is firm, soothing motions, “just listen.”

Shane relaxed slightly, but he was still tense as he let Ilya continue.  

“Russia is not a kind place—to people like me, and you,” Ilya told him, “you know this.”

Shane nodded slightly.

“I am afraid, especially at Olympics, with so many eyes on me, with so much expectation, that it would not be safe. Not to be seen together—to be seen friendly,” Ilya explained, “I do not want you to get hurt because of me.”

“Ilya—” Shane started.

“No, no, let me finish. I love you very much, котенок. I do not want you to think I am ever ashamed of you,” Ilya said honestly.

“Me too,” Shane told him.

“But I also know—my father, my brother, my government… they are not nice people. I want to keep you safe. I want to protect you. Even if only from the things they might say,” Ilya admitted. “Please, I do not know what I would do if—” Ilya’s voice cracked.

“Hey, hey—” Shane shushed, he leaned his face down so that he could press a kiss to Ilya’s cheek, “it’s okay. I’ll do whatever you need me to do when we’re there, OK? It is still months from now. Whatever you need from me, you think about it, and then tell me. I’ll do it, okay? Don’t worry, don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” Ilya breathed. He snaked his arm over Shane and pulled him closer, holding him tight.

*

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅My Christmas wish this year would be for Stanley Cup, but that is already a given, so would be waste of a wish #RaiderNation #MetrosareBad #ScottHunterIsOld

@CliffMarleau✅ You know it! #RaiderNation

@MetroHaydenPike✅ 🙄🙄🙄

@Hunter5Ever Not Scotty catching strays 😭

            @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅🦕

@HollanderBabe24 I must have Stockholm syndrome or something because I definitely thought this was going to be a post about how his Christmas wish is to take a bite out of Shane Hollander’s ass or something.

            @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅Do not need to wish for, already have 🤷

                        @HollanderBabe24 aaaaaand there it is.

*

Shane knew, because Ilya had told him, that things would be different, in Russia. Shane was not prepared for how different it actually felt.

Shane had spotted Ilya a couple of times around the village. He had tried to catch his eye on more than one occasion, just for a glance, a moment of I’m still here. Not for Shane so much as for Ilya. To let Ilya know that even here, in Sochi, in Russia, he had someone who would always be on his side. None of it mattered, anyways. Ilya was doing his damndest to avoid his gaze whenever they were in the same room. Shane wasn’t hurt by it, but he did hurt for Ilya.

Shane had been under strict orders from Ilya not to text him, so Shane didn’t. No “good morning :)” or “good luck at the game tomorrow!” texts. In all honesty, those first few days at the Olympics were probably the longest period of time they hadn’t spoken in years. Not since before the night of the CCM shoot, when everything had changed.

When Russia had lost in the first round, Shane couldn’t stop himself from texting.

Jane: I’m sorry.

Jane: Are you doing OK?

A part of Shane knew that Ilya wasn’t going to answer, but Shane still bit his lip and nervously watched his phone for any sign of life.

Later, when he went to watch figure skating with Vaughn and Hunter, Shane spotted Ilya in the arena.

Shane met his eyes from a distance. He expected a brush-off, a shake of the head to tell him to stay away. Instead, Ilya gave him one, short nod.

“I’ll uh—I’ll be right back,” Shane said to Vaughn and Hunter as he scrambled up from his seat, eager to get to the overlook where Ilya had been standing.

He found Ilya by the railing near the top of the arena; his eyes trained on the skating in front of him.

“Ilya,” he breathed. Shane’s fingers twitched with the desire to reach out and touch him, but Shane knew it wasn’t safe to do that here. Instead, he found a place next to Ilya on the railing, close enough to feel his warmth, but too far to touch. “How are you?” Shane asked, unsure under the weight of Ilya’s silence, “you played well—even if your team didn’t.”

“That is not what the people are saying, the tv, my father,” Ilya spat bitterly.

Shane watched as Ilya’s fingers clenched over the railing, his whole body wound tight.

“I know,” Shane acknowledged, “I know, I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is,” Ilya said.

“что есть, то есть,” Shane replied under his breath.

Ilya finally turned to look at him, a spark in his gaze, “Your Russian is getting better.”

 “I’m learning,” Shane smiled, “I want to—you speak in English for me and I want to be able to speak in Russian for you. I want you to be able to talk to me when—when the words are hard to find.”

“Thank you,” Ilya spoke, voice watery. “I do not think I want to stay here, anymore.”

“Oh,” Shane said, “are you going back to Boston already? Not going to stay for the closing ceremonies?”

“Is not what I mean,” Ilya told him. His voice dropped so that the words could only be heard by Shane, “I do not want to be in Russia, anymore. Forever.”

“What?” Shane asked, brow furrowed.

“This place is not home, anymore. I think—I think Russia is… На душе стужа—ah… its soul is cold? It is too cold to love,” Ilya turned his gaze away again and shook his head. Shane watched as his curls bounced with the movement. “The loss has only made that more clear. My place is not here, anymore. Not in my father’s house, not in Russia. Once I leave, I do not think I will ever return.”

“Ilya,” Shane said, the word strangled.

“Is sad, yes,” Ilya acknowledged, “but not so sad. I have had long time to think about it. I think I have a place now that I would rather be.” Ilya shot Shane a sideways glance and a lopsided smile. “I will get my affairs in order—set up care for my father because my useless brother will not, set up trust for my niece so that my brother cannot gamble her life away…” Ilya trailed off for a moment. “There is one thing I think I would like to do before I leave, and I—I would like it, very much, if you would come with me.”

“Anything,” Shane told him, “of course, anything.”

*

@Hole4Hockey Ok guys… weird post. As some of you may know, I made the trek out to Russia to watch some Olympics. I will probably never be in a situation to take a trip to Russia ever again, so I figured I’d see some sights while I was here. Sochi first for the games, but then on to Moscow and St. Petersburg. So tell me why, while sitting in the Moscow airport waiting for my flight to St. Petersburg, did I see Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander getting off a flight from Sochi… together????

@Hunter5Ever uh, maybe because they were both just at the Olympics?

            @Hole4Hockey sure but… why would they be getting off a flight to Moscow together. They aren’t on the same team and are like notorious rivals.

                        @Hunter5Ever Bro I dunno, maybe they just had the same connection?

                                    @HockeyFan81 this is literally the only explanation I can think of that makes any sort of sense.               

*

“привет мама,” Ilya said softly. He pressed a kiss to his fingers before placing his hand onto the headstone, “Это моя любовь Shane.”

“привет,” Shane breathed, stepping up so he stood next to where Ilya knelt. “It is good to meet you. I want you to know that I love your son very much.”

Ilya reached out to squeeze Shane’s ankle. Shane placed a hand in Ilya’s curls, running his fingers through Ilya’s hair gently.

“I will give you some time alone?” Shane asked.

Ilya nodded, and Shane walked over to a bench under a tree, far enough away to give Ilya some privacy.  

The sun hung low in the sky by the time they left.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

*

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅Hello Boston. I am back bitches.

@CliffMarleau✅ Good to have you back, brother.

@MetroHaydenPike✅ boooooooo go home

            @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅surely 15^th best metro is not speaking to me right now.

                        @MetroHaydenPike✅Posture all you want, Rozanov. My boy @ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer proved he was better than you back in Russia.

                                    @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅You are in his DMs📱 but I am sharing his tickets in first class ✈️😎 You tell me which is better 🤷🤷🤷

                                                @MetroHaydenPike✅… what …

                                                @Hunter5Ever are you confirming that you were on that plane… together??????????????

*

Ilya felt the sweat pouring down his face, his neck, his back. His breaths came in heavy, ragged gasps from where he sat on the bench, eyes trained on the ice in front of him. He glanced up at the scoreboard. Tie game, a minute and a half left on the clock.

“First line!” LeClaire called out, and Ilya stood, ready to jump the boards.

He could feel the seconds tick away along with the steady thud of his heart.

The shift came, Ilya charged out onto the ice.

The roar of the crowd blurred out into silence. His focus only on the ice in front of him, and the puck.

Marly, who had come out on top after a scuffle for the puck up against the boards, slipped a sharp pass across the ice. Ilya skated up to meet it. He turned sharply to avoid the oncoming defenseman from San Francisco and snapped the puck back out to the wing.

Seconds, seconds left, and Ilya could feel it, could taste it.

A quick return, Ilya settled the puck against his stick, and in a beautiful execution of a backhand, Ilya slipped the puck right between the San Francisco goalie’s knees.

The buzzer sounded. The clock ran out.

Pandemonium.

Sound rushed back into Ilya’s senses as sticks were thrown in the air, as helmets hit the ice. The glass of the arena shook as the crowd beat up against it with their fists. The team poured out into the rink.

They had done it. They had won the cup.

Later, as he lifted the cup above his head, he called out, “Для тебя, мама!”

*

Shane was waiting for Ilya at the cottage when he arrived.

The house had been finished only a couple of weeks earlier, and it would be the first time either of them had stepped foot into the completed home. Shane, even though he had been back in Ottawa since the Metros had been knocked out of the playoffs, had stayed at his parents’ cottage instead of his own, wanting for his first time seeing it to be with Ilya.

“Are you ready?” Shane asked, taking a breath.

Ilya took his hand where they stood by the front door and nodded.

The two of them wandered around the house, smiling and admiring the fixtures, chatting idly about what would end up in each room. Aside from the furniture they had ordered and the decorations and other things the designer had set up, both of them would still need to officially move their things into the home.

It did not take long for them to christen the bedroom.

When Shane woke, the sun was setting outside the windows overlooking the lake, and the bed was empty.

Shane’s eyes caught on the dock in the distance, what looked like candlelight flickering on the shadowed edge of the lake. Shane could make out Ilya’s silhouette cloaked in darkness as he looked out toward the water.

Shane’s brow furrowed as he got out of bed, glancing at the view every so often as he pulled on clothes. Once dressed, he headed out the back door and down to the dock.

Up close, Shane could tell that Ilya had covered the thing in candles.

“Ilya?” Shane asked, “what is this?”

Ilya turned, reaching out a hand toward Shane. Shane took it, and Ilya tugged him forward so that they stood at the center of the dock in the middle of the candles. The light of the flickering flames and the deep orange of the setting sun made Ilya glow golden.

Ilya took a deep breath. “I win Stanely Cup and I think—‘wow I have everything.’ Except, is not true. I go home to perfect boyfriend in perfect new house knowing I kissed perfect cup, and all I can think about is how he is ‘boyfriend.’ Is no good.”

“No good?” Shane repeated, bewildered. His heart kicked up in his chest.

“No. Should be ‘husband.’” Ilya sank to one knee and pulled out a ring from his pocket. It was an intricate, three ring band of gold. “Was my mothers,” Ilya said, voice soft, “I know she would have loved you, like I love you.”

“Ilya,” Shane gasped, voice shaky, “holy shit.” He reached down to cup at Ilya’s face. “Are you sure?”

“Never more sure,” Ilya stated.

“Okay, okay,” Shane nodded, “yes, of course.”

*

Later that night, as they lay sprawled out over the sheets, Shane turned to Ilya.

“You know this means we’re going to have to start telling people… right?”

*

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ Happy to announce that I have locked @ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer down. Please do not contact him for 48 to 72 hours, we will be occupied 😏👅

@MiaMetroz DID YOU KIDNAP SHANE HOLLANDER???????

@HollanderBabe24 SHANE?????? Is this an honest to god hostage situation?

            @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ Is not hostage situation if he is right where he wants to be.

            @CliffMarleau✅ Please tell me you do not have Shane Hollander tied up in your basement Roz.

                        @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ *our basement 💗🥰😻

                                    @HockeyFan81 what does this MEAN

Chapter End Notes

Part of the proposal scene was one of the first things I wrote when I had this idea for a fic, and I have been so so patient for the plot to actually get us there lol. I hope you liked it :)

Chapter 5

Chapter Summary

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ So thankful to be playing my husband @ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer tonight! 🙏God gives many gifts, but none sweeter than my злой котенок after loss to Boston, yes?

@HockeyFan81 My man’s delusional, it’s ok.

@MiaMetroz Uhm????????

@ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer✅ Delete this. We’re not even married yet.

            @HockeyFan81 ?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

            @Hole4Hockey …yet?

             @HollanderBabe24 [gif of Buzzfeed Unsolved ‘I’ve connected two dots/you didn’t connect shit’]

Chapter Notes

I am sorry this one took so long! My life was crazy for a bit, and then when I /did/ sit down to write this chapter it just kept getting longer and longer. (So, you might notice I added one more chapter to the chapter count). Thank you all for your patience and your kind words on the last chapter!

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ So thankful to be playing my husband @ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer tonight! 🙏God gives many gifts, but none sweeter than my злой котенок after loss to Boston, yes?

@HockeyFan81 My man’s delusional, it’s ok.

@MiaMetroz Uhm????????

@ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer✅ Delete this. We’re not even married yet.

            @HockeyFan81 ?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

            @Hole4Hockey …yet?

             @HollanderBabe24 [gif of Buzzfeed Unsolved ‘I’ve connected two dots/you didn’t connect shit’]

*

Ilya swung open the front door of his house. Marleau was standing out front, bottle of vodka in one hand and a case of Sam Adams in the other.

“Hey brother! Thanks for having me tonight!” Marleau greeted, smile wide, “it’s been forever since we’ve hung out like this, seems like you’re always busy nowadays.”

Ilya stepped aside and pulled the door open wider to let Marleau in. Marleau hooked the other man into a half hug with the arm holding the bottle of vodka.

“Yes, yes,” Ilya said, waving Marleau into the house.

Ilya followed Marleau into the kitchen where he sat the booze on the counter.

“So, what are the plans for tonight? I think the Metros Admirals game is on tonight? Or we could get a movie on demand if you don’t want to see Hollander’s dumb face,” Marleau chuckled. “Also, I was thinking pizza? From that same place as last time? Damn I’ve been dreaming of it ever since.”

“We can do whatever you want, Marly. First—look can we sit? Talk?” Ilya asked. He fidgeted slightly with his fingers. Ilya had wanted to get this over with quickly. As soon as Shane and him had decided they needed to start telling people, Ilya knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it from Marleau very long. Cliff was his best friend and somehow was always able to tell if there was something on his mind. Ilya had needed to act fast, and tell Marleau earlier in the season, or Marleau would surely notice that Ilya was hiding something from him. Hence—pizza night.

“Sure brother. Is something wrong? Is it your pops?” Marleau turned to look at him seriously, the wide smile had faded away.

“Ah—no. Is not my father. It’s—let’s sit, yes?” Ilya nodded towards the living room.

Marleau’s face twisted up in concern, but he followed Ilya over to the couch. Ilya didn’t think that Marleau would be bad about it, but there was still a twinge of nervousness in Ilya’s stomach.

“Okay,” Ilya took a steadying breath, “I was wondering if you would be my best man.”

Marleau was quiet for only a moment before reacting.

“No shit, man!” Marleau practically whooped, jumping up from the couch. “Montreal Girl locked you down?” Marleau grinned.

Ilya dropped eye contact for a moment. “Montreal… boy.” Ilya could feel the thud of his heart in the silence that followed.

“Woah,” Marleau exhaled, returning to his place on the couch, “wow man that’s—” He paused and shook his head, “I’m happy for you, Roz.” He clapped Ilya on the shoulder with an open palm.

“Thank you,” Ilya sighed, relieved.

“So, when do I get to meet him? Before the wedding, hopefully!” Marleau chuckled.

“You have met,” Ilya said.

“What?” Marleau’s brow scrunched in confusion.

“Is Shane Hollander, you have met him,” Ilya told him slowly. A part of Ilya had expected everything to click for Marleau as soon as he had admitted his Fiancé was a man, it was not like Ilya hid his feelings for Shane publicly. Ilya didn’t even hide the engagement publicly. Surely Marleau did not have enough head injuries to be unable to put two and two together.

Marleau stared blank faced for a moment, before breaking out into large belly laughs.

“Oh brother, you really had me going. Are you even getting married, or was this whole serious ‘we need to talk’ thing just to fuck with me.”

“Is not joke, Marly. I am marrying Shane Hollander,” Ilya stated, trying to keep his voice as even as possible to get the message across.  

“Sure, sure. And you honestly meant every joke you’ve told on twitter for the past half a decade,” Marleau dismissed.  

“Yes,” Ilya said, exasperated. He wasn’t quite sure what he needed to say to get Marleau to believe him.  

“I—what?”

“Yes, I never joke about these things. I do not do this. I love Shane, and he loves me, and we are getting married this summer,” Ilya explained.  

“You being into dudes I can buy—you’ve got that whole European vibe going for you…” Marleau started, waving at Ilya with his hand, "but man, how did you pull Hollander?”

“What?” It was Ilya’s turn to be confused.

“I mean, love is love and all that jazz. My cousin is gay. I just—dude he’s way out of your league. That’s Calvin Klein model Shane Hollander we’re talking about here,” Marleau breathed.  

“I tell you, ‘I am engaged to Shane Hollander,’ ‘we are getting married,’ ‘I need best man,’ and you are most stuck on how I convinced Shane Hollander to be with me?” Ilya asked.

“It is the most unbelievable part of this entire thing, yes,” Marleau nodded.

“Yes, yes, my Shane is very attractive, very sweet golden boy everyone knows this,” Ilya agreed, somewhat offended at the implication of it all.

“Yeah, and you’re—Roz man you know I love you but you’re kind of an asshole,” Marleau laughed.  

“Yes, but his asshole is mine,” Ilya smirked.

“You mean you’re his asshole,” Marleau corrected.

“Yes, that too,” Ilya nodded seriously.  

*

@HollanovTruther (1/12) Why I think that Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander are dating, a 12 part thread with receipts. #hollanovisreal

@StickHandlerr77 please get some help.

@MiaMetroz 🙄🙄🙄 you people are delusional 🙄🙄🙄

@PikesPeak Can I get ‘things that never happened’ for 1000, Alex?

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ For record, only 8 of these things are true.

            @HockeyFan81 Uhhhhhh

            @HollanovTruther !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

            @HollanovTruther WAIT! WHICH 8????????????????????

*

“Mom, the wedding is months away. Why do we have to discuss this? It’s going to be at the cottage, we’ll let the people we want to invite know… it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal,” Shane complained. It was Christmas break, and Shane was being subjected to a large binder his mom had pulled out from the bookshelf with “WEDDING PLANNING” written in bold on the cover. Shane had rolled his eyes when he first saw it.

Now, after having to decide which forks he wanted at the reception, Shane was starting to lose it a little bit.

“No son of mine is going to have a wedding where you forget to order chairs Shane. Now do you like the white wrap or the natural wood?” Yuna asked, pointing at two different pictures of two very normal looking chairs. Shane couldn’t tell why it mattered.

Ilya leaned over Shane’s shoulder to look, “Mmm, the wood, definitely. Will match the trees better.” He smacked a wet kiss on the side of Shane’s face.

“Thank you, Ilya,” Yuna sighed, “Now, how do we feel about these centerpiece options.”

*

It was late into the season by the time Shane attempted to tell Hayden. Shane could admit to himself it was absolutely because he was trying to avoid the conversation altogether. Ilya had told Cliff Marleau months ago now, and Shane hadn’t even considered bringing it up to Hayden. It was really getting to the point where it was now or never.

Shane was at Hayden’s house, sitting on his couch, posture stiff, as he nervously played with the pull tab on his can of ginger ale.

Ruby and Jade went with Jackie to the grocery store, so it was a rare moment of quiet in the Pike household.

Hayden glanced at Shane from across the couch. Some movie that Hayden had insisted Shane watch is playing on the TV, but Shane had absorbed absolutely none of it in the last hour. He fully intended to tell Hayden about Ilya and the wedding today. He just—hadn’t worked up to it yet.

Hayden reached for the remote on the coffee table in front of them and pressed pause.

“Hey man, are you alright? If you hate the movie we don’t have to watch it. It’s just now with the girls here I’m strictly relegated to PG or below and I’ve been wanting to see this one for a while,” Hayden explained.

Shane shook his head once, eyes trained firmly on his can, “no, no the movie is fine it’s just… can we talk for a minute?”

“Woah this seems like… are you getting traded?” Hayden asked.

“No! No! Not… yet,” Shane protested.

“Yet?” Hayden drew out the word slowly. The question hung between them. Playing on the same team with Ilya was a dream that Shand hadn’t let himself look at too closely, and it was definitely not what he was here to talk about. That was another bridge to cross when he got to it.

“This conversation is not about me hypothetically being traded right before the trade deadline,” Shane insisted, “it’s about… I’m gay.”

“Oh, thank God,” Hayden breathed out in a rush. “I mean—not thank God you’re gay—I mean—it’s not a bad thing that you’re gay I’m just not like—I mean—I’m glad you’re not getting traded is what I mean. It’s fine that you’re gay. I’m—I’m gonna stop talking now.”

“Ok,” Shane nodded, “probably a good idea.”

“That does not mean you stop talking! What about Lily! Haven’t you been seeing her like—forever? Oh my god, is Boston Lily a MAN?” Hayden exclaimed, standing up from his seat.

“I thought you were going to stop talking?” Shane groaned.

“Ok, ok, I will stop talking if you explain,” Hayden told him.

“Boston Lily is a man. He’s—Ilya Rozanov. We’re getting married this summer. This is me inviting you and also asking you to be my best man,” Shane explained. Most of the words came out in one long rushed string.  

Hayden stared at him silently for a moment before breaking into a wide grin, “Okay, this is officially the funniest joke you have ever told.”

“It’s not a joke, Hayden,” Shane sighed.

“I mean—Ilya Rozanov? Inspired,” Hayden continued, “I actually didn’t think you had this kind of humor in you.”

“Hayd.”

“It would have been more believable if you had picked literally anybody else, but the joke just wouldn’t land with the same oomph ya know?”

“Hayden it isn’t a joke. Ilya and I are getting married this summer,” Shane stated firmly.  

Hayden blinked once. Twice.

“No. No I will not let Ilya Rozanov become my best friend in law. He bullies me on Twitter, Shane!” Hayden whined.

“I’ll talk to him?” Shane said weakly.

“You’re ruining my life!” Hayden groaned.

“Can’t you just be happy for me?” Shane asked softly.

“Fine,” Hayden signed, he reached over to pull Shane into a gentle half-hug, “I’m happy for you and you’re ruining my life. Both things can be true.”  

*

@MetroHaydenPike✅ Fuck you @IlyaRozanovOfficial

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ I would never lower my standards to 15^th best Metro when I have first best. See you this summer! 😘😘😘

            @CliffMarleau✅Honestly can’t even disagree with this one.

            @ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer✅ @IlyaRozanovOfficial this is what I meant when I told you to stop bullying Hayden on Twitter.

                        @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅He started it!

                                    @PikesPeak WHY ARE YOU ALL HERE?????????????

*

“What the fuck am I looking at right now?” JJ asked, incredulous. He held in his hand a flashcard that had, in neat penmanship, the time and place of Shane and Ilya’s wedding.

JJ had pulled it out of his locker when he spotted it peeking out from the top shelf. A quick glance around the room revealed that other lockers had also gotten the same 3x5 card treatment.

Hayden glanced at the card from over Shane’s shoulder, before groaning.

“Shane, man. Please tell me you did not give everyone on the team the ‘I’m in third grade having a birthday party at the arcade, my mom reserved the pizza room at the back, everyone has an invite in their cubby’ treatment for your fucking wedding invites.”

“I just thought it would be convenient! Save on postage!” Shane protested. The truth had a little bit more to do with the desire to avoid answering any complicated questions more than once, but he didn’t have to admit to that.

The other guys in the locker room were slowly realizing they too had ‘wedding invites.’

“Convenient? Save on postage? You’re a fucking multimillionaire, Shane,” Hayden scoffed.

“Well excuse me for thinking about the environment,” Shane huffed.

“Wait, Hollander is getting married?” Mitty asked, face scrunched in confusion, “I didn’t even know he was seeing somebody.”

“Oh my god, is it Lily?” JJ yelped, “Ça alors!”  

“Ah—yeah. About that. Lily is… I mean. Lily is Ilya… Rozanov,” Shane admitted. He expertly avoided eye contact with all of the guys in the locker room at once and rubbed a nervous hand on his neck.

The locker room dipped into silence.

After a few moments of quiet, Shane looked around at the room of guys, half of them with their jaws dropped open.

“I mean… c’mon guys, it’s not like it was a secret,” Shane said sheepishly. “I mean… you all know the things he says on the internet.”

“Jokes!” JJ protested, “Chirps! Not—not real.”

“Real,” Shane nodded.

“Unfortunately,” Hayden agreed.

*

Shane supposed the most anti-climactic part of it all was that the game ended 4 to 1. Minnesota hadn’t scored since the first, and Shane had put the game to bed early in the third when he finished his hat trick to put Montreal up by three.

The adrenaline thrum that had been buzzing through him since the cup had first felt close enough to touch still thrummed in him, but as the last couple of minutes ticked off of the game clock, a self-satisfied calm filled its place. Shane knew, with certainty, he was about to win his first Stanley Cup.

Ilya was at home, waiting for him. Watching him on their couch in the glow of the TV light.

Ilya had kissed him hard when he had left for the rink, whispering “У тебя всё получится,” in his ear like a promise, “You will come home Champion? Yes?”

“Я вернусь домой к своему Чемпиону,” Shane had responded. Ilya had gone fond at the words.

“I wish you could be there, with me,” Shane had admitted, voice quiet as he held Ilya’s hands in his own. The two of them had stood in the doorway, both reluctant for him to leave.

“I will be here,” Ilya had promised, “waiting. And next year, you can come down onto the ice when I win again.” He had said the words with a smirk.

Shane had shoved him lightly, before leaning in for one last good luck kiss.

When Shane held the cup over his head, tears streaming down his face, smile wide, he looked straight at the camera and mouthed, “Я тебя люблю.”

*

@MontrealMania Does anyone know what Shane mouthed at the camera? Got any lip readers on this website?

@AdMITTedly I couldn’t tell you, I can only lip read in English.

            @PikesPeak What is that supposed to mean?

                        @AdMITTedly Whatever he said, it wasn’t in English.

                                     @MontrealMania He also speaks French, doesn’t he?

                                     @HollanovTruther ………………WAS IT IN RUSSIAN?????

*

Shane could admit, if he hadn’t let his mother plan his wedding, it definitely would have involved more milling about in the grass and a lot less chairs.

Shane didn’t notice most of it, though. The whole day, it was like the world had narrowed down to just him and Ilya. The realization that this was something he could have for the rest of his life. He was practically walking on air. Floating. Fuck the chairs, Shane would never touch the ground again.

They had both cried during the vows. Ilya had assured him afterwards that it was “very tasteful crying, you always look so beautiful when you cry моя любовь.”

Shane had shoved him, but then snaked his hand into Ilya’s own, their rings pressed up against each other’s skin.

Shane wasn’t surprised that not all of the guys came out to the wedding. Not all of them could get past him marrying Ilya. He was pleasantly surprised by the number of guys who did show up, though.

Maybe it was the high of just winning the Stanley Cup. Maybe reality would come crashing down into them when the season started again, and they would all realize they weren’t really okay with it. Shane couldn’t find it in himself to care. He had everything he ever wanted.

*

Shane and Ilya sat in chairs by the dying embers of their bonfire. Summer was coming to an end, and pre-season was fast approaching. Neither of them felt fully ready to leave the quiet cocoon they had built for themselves.

A few days after Ilya’s proposal, a little over a year ago now, Shane had left the cottage for a few hours and returned with a wedding band of Ilya’s own—a gold band engraved with intricate, swirling designs. Both rings were on their right hands now, as was traditional for Russian Orthodox. Neither of them had taken them off of their fingers since the wedding two weeks before. Ilya knew once the season started it would spend less time on his hand and more time on his chain—during practice, games, workouts—and as he sat watching the firelight die, he savored the weight of it on his finger.

“I think I will not extend my contract,” Ilya said suddenly.

“What?” Shane asked, startled out of his own silent thoughts.

“My contract is up next season. I could extend…but now… after the wedding… I do not want to be married to you and be a whole country away,” Ilya admitted.

“You’d leave Boston?” Shane questioned, brow furrowed.

Ilya nodded firmly.

“Mine is, too,” Shane said.

Ilya turned, a question on his face.

“I signed an extension contract after the draft contract same as you,” Shane told him, “mine is up at the same time.”

“What are you saying to me?” Ilya asked.

“I’m saying—I don’t know what I’m saying. Maybe…maybe there is somewhere with enough salary cap, with enough space that they might… take us both?” Shane suggested, a barely there twinge of hope in his voice.

“You would want to play with me?” Ilya asked, dumbfounded.

“I’d want nothing more than to play with you, Ilya.”

Chapter 6

Chapter Summary

@BreakingHockeyNews In shocking news, Ilya Rozanov’s team have officially announced he will not renew his contract with the Boston Raiders at the end of this season and plans to enter free agency.

@RaiderNation Traitor.
@HockeyFan81 I know that one reddit post said this was going to happen, but I didn’t want to believe it. 😔
@StickHandlerr77 I have no words.
@BostonBoyz This cannot be happening to me right now. God hates me specifically. We will never touch a cup again.

Chapter Notes

Gahhhh I was not planning on this chapter taking me so long to write, but life kind of hit me with a brick this last month. My apologies. But as promised-please enjoy the final chapter.

When Ilya had told Shane that he couldn’t stand being married and a whole country away, Shane understood what he meant—theoretically.

In the moment, Shane knew that being apart from one another would suck like being apart had always sucked. He had also realized that being married and apart would be—in some ways— different. Shane had hoped that it wouldn’t be as bad as Ilya had made it sound. Surely the security of knowing that they were, for all intents and purposes, together forever, and that Ilya’s permanent residency was processing, would make some of it easier, instead of harder.

Unfortunately, Shane found the reality of missing Ilya was much different in practice.

They called nightly at this point. No matter what. If Ilya went out with his team, he would still make sure to call Shane as soon as he got home, even if it meant waking Shane up from a dead sleep. Not that Shane could sleep particularly well without his phone call.

The first time that Ilya had skipped calling because it was well past a reasonable hour to phone, Shane had called Ilya at two in the morning, breathless and worried and on the verge of tears. Shane’s reaction had surprised even himself. Ilya had soothed him over the phone anyways, with quiet Russian endearments and promises to always call, no matter the hour he got home.

The few times during the season the two of them could meet up, they made the most of it. Pressing kisses into each other’s skin like a brand, whispering promises to each other between shared breaths. “Soon, soon, soon,” a mantra crossed between them.

Just one more season, and then nothing could keep them apart again.

Shane could not wait for it to end.

*

Shane knew that Ilya was watching the game—from the stands this time. Not at home watching it on the couch. He was up there somewhere in the crowd, sitting next to Shane’s parents. His husband.

Ilya’s permanent residency had been approved just a few weeks ago, right after Boston was knocked out of the playoffs. They didn’t really have anything left to be afraid of, anymore. Any reason for Ilya to not be sitting up in the stands, cheering him on, was gone. He was safe, and next year, they would get to play on the same team. Maybe even win the next cup… together.

Ilya still refused to wear the Metros jersey, though—Deciding instead to wear an official Team Canada jersey with Shane’s name and number on the back.

“I am Canadian now, yes?” Ilya had said when he first put it on. Shane didn’t have the heart to tell him that wasn’t how it worked. He was too busy smiling at his husband to correct him anyways.

There was something about it—the feeling of knowing Ilya was watching him, sandwiched between his mom and dad—that made Shane want to show off, a little. So, when Shane took a shot on goal late in the third, he did it with a little of Ilya’s own flare.

“The Rozanov, really?” Hayden laughed as he skated up to Shane in congratulations.

“Rozanov-Hollander now, Hayd, get it right,” Shane corrected, smile splitting his face.

Hayden shoved him in return.

This time, when Shane hoisted the cup over his head, Ilya was rushing down onto the ice, too. Ilya was scooping Shane up into a hug and spinning him around in congratulations. Ilya Ilya Ilya.

In that moment, Shane knew he had just about everything he could ever want.

*

@HollanovTruther Y’all saw Rozanov down on the ice tonight, too, right? It was not just a Hollanov Hallucination?

@MiaMetroz Yes 🫣

@HollanderBabe24 It is getting harder to deny…

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅Hockey player found on ice. Breaking news: fork found in kitchen.

       @HollanovTruther sir.

              @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅😜🏒🏆 🫦 👅💦

                     @HollanovTruther SIR

*

u/BostonBaby: Rumor has it: major moves next season.

I know what you’re all going to say, but MODS PLEASE DO NOT TAKE THIS DOWN. I know this is going to seem like rampant speculation at this point but hear me out. I have a friend who works on the Raiders, no I will not say who, and no I will not say what they do for the organization (it would give too much away and I don’t want to see them in deep shit). What I know is this: I was out drinking with a group of friends last night, and Raider Friend gets drunk, drunker than usual in a way that… worries me. Of course, I ask them what’s up. They tell me work is a shit show right now because someone is refusing to sign their contract. I made a joke downplaying it, right? Like ‘oh what, they only want blue Gatorade or something?’ Friend shakes their head. Says, ‘no amount of money seems to be able to get him to stay. Apparently, they threw the entire remaining salary cap at him and he is saying no dice. He’s a free agent at the end of the season, and for some reason no one in the front office can fathom, we’re going to lose him.’ It’s obvious to me the only person in Boston /anyone/ would be willing to toss their entire salary cap for is Ilya Rozanov. So that’s what I have for you guys. Look out for free agency, it seems like Ilya Rozanov is on the move.

u/byebyeboston I have prayed for times like these. Boston will never see another cup.   

u/HockeyHead There is literally no way this is real actually. That man is the face of the franchise. This has to be rage bait.

u/BostonForTheCup As much as I think that Rozanov has been a homophobic asshole over the years… if this is true Boston is well and truly screwed.

*

@BreakingHockeyNews In shocking news, Ilya Rozanov’s team have officially announced he will not renew his contract with the Boston Raiders at the end of this season and plans to enter free agency.

@RaiderNation Traitor.

@HockeyFan81 I know that one reddit post said this was going to happen, but I didn’t want to believe it. 😔

@StickHandlerr77 I have no words.

@BostonBoyz This cannot be happening to me right now. God hates me specifically. We will never touch a cup again.

*

@BreakingHockeyNews In shocking news, Shane Hollander’s team have officially announced he will not renew his contract with the Montreal Metros at the end of this season and plans to enter free agency.

@HollanderBabe24 SHANE?????

@MiaMetroz I don’t think I’m at a point in my life that I can handle this right now.

@MoonriseOverMontreal Please tell me you’re LYING 😶

@HockeyStixxx both Boston and Montreal just lost their captains at the same time? What is going on with hockey right now?

@MonTREEal I just KNOW Yuna Hollander had nothing to do with this.

*            

@BreakingHockeyNews Shake up of the century, the Ottawa Centaurs announce the signing of both Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander. Contract details have not been released, but sources suggest both players will need to take pay cuts in order for the Centaurs to remain under salary cap.

@LadyRozanov I DON’T WANT TO ROOT FOR OTTAWA THEY ARE SO BADDDDDD 😭😭😭

@HockeyFan81 Oh my god.

@MiaMetroz ………………………………………………….

@HollanderBabe24 Is this real life?

@HollanovTruther 🎵War is over🎵

*

Playing on the same team as Ilya was better than Shane could have ever imagined. The two of them came out to their new team almost immediately, and their teammates, coaches, and staff all took it in stride. There were no secrets in Ottawa, nothing left to hide, and no one seemed to judge them for any of it. Though there was a good amount of teasing.

One day at practice, Shane hit “a particularly sexy shot” according to Ilya, which was announced loudly enough to the rest of the ice that Shane was left blushing furiously. Some of the team were in the middle of chirping the two of them for being so obvious about their feelings for one another while at work, when Bood cut in.

“Hasn’t Roz been thirst-tweeting about Shane for years publicly anyways?” Bood asked.

“Wait, oh my god, all these years and you were never joking! The internet was convinced Rozy was homophobic!” Dykstra had realized.

Ilya had only shrugged in response.

Even with that realization, most of the team hadn’t exactly been surprised by the initial admission the two of them were together.  

“I mean,” Wyatt had confessed to Shane one night at Monk’s after a game, “honestly, it made sense as soon as you told me. I had been trying to figure out for weeks why the two of you would have changed teams at the height of your career.”

But it wasn’t just living in the same house, seeing each other every day, and getting to be open and free around their teammates that was nice about being on the same team—the hockey was electric.

Shane and Ilya together on the power play was a two-headed monster. The two of them moved together like they had one mind. Plays were fast, passes were seamless, and the results catapulted the Ottawa Centaurs from a bottom of the barrel team to the team to watch.

It was therefore both surprising and not when Ottawa made it to the playoffs for the first time in over a decade. Of course, now Ottawa had the two best players in the league on the team, but they were still trying to find their stride. Despite that, the Centaurs made it to the first round of the playoffs, all the way into a hotly contested game seven against the raiders.

When Marleau crashed into Shane, it was a clean hit.

There was no bad blood between them after Ilya left Boston. Marly was understanding. He was even supposed to meet them after the game for some drinks.

Instead—Ilya had to watch as Shane was carted off the ice on a stretcher.

Ilya had leaned over Shane on the ice, whispering quietly to him in Russian so those around them could not understand. Desperate breaths of are you okay and please and let me come with you.

Shane had looked at him, half-conscious and disoriented, as he said, “you gotta stay, Ilya. It’s the first period. They don’t stand a chance if both of us are off the ice.”

“Screw winning,” Ilya had growled, and one of the medics attempted to push Ilya away.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Shane had mumbled, consciousness waning, “I’m okay Ilya, I promise. Come see me, after,” he emphasized.

The Centaurs did not beat Boston, too thrown off by Shane’s injury. A devastating end to a record season.

Ilya did not spare the results of the game a second thought. As soon as the team was off the ice, Ilya was rushing to grab his and Shane’s things from the lockers.

“Whoa man,” Boodram said, hands up as he blocked Ilya’s path out of the locker room.

“Bood, I must go. Shane is at hospital,” Ilya huffed.

“No, I know man. You’re just in no state to drive right now. Let me, okay?” He offered.

“Okay, okay. Just hurry,” Ilya conceded, not even wasting time on protesting.

*

Ilya didn’t let Bood put the car in park before he was jumping out into the parking lot and rushing through the hospital doors.

“Hi,” he greeted the woman at the desk, breathless, “I am here for Shane Hollander.”

She typed the name into the computer, and Ilya’s skin buzzed with impatience.

“Sorry,” she apologized, “it looks like family only at the moment.”

“I am family,” Ilya corrected.

“Sir, I understand your desire to go see your… friend…” She trailed off.

“We are not friends,” Ilya started, the word tasted bitter in his mouth.

“Teammate, then,” she interrupted, “But right now, given his condition and his status, we’re leaving visitors to family only,” the nurse emphasized. Her placating voice grated on Ilya’s nerves.  

“I am family,” Ilya repeated, “he is my husband.”

“Sir,” the nurse sighed, irritated.

At that moment David came around the corner.

“Ilya!” He called, “perfect timing, I was hoping you would be here. Shane just woke up and is asking for you. I’ll show you back.”

 Ilya sagged with relief, before turning and raising his eyebrows at the nurse as if to say “see?”

*

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ What is this everyone saying, “Scott Hunter first gay hockey player in NHL.” First gay Dinosaur maybe. Certainly not first gay player.

@Hunter5Ever He is the first ‘out’ player. There might be others still in the closet.

       @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ What is this ‘out’?

              @Hunter5Ever Like… public?

                              @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅Are me and Hollander not public? I have professed my love to him for many years. No one make big deal over it. I get no applause or award.

                                     @HollanderBabe24 You and me both 🥵

                                     @StickHandlerr77 This has been a generationally long bit.

                                            @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅ Is bit like joke? I do not do this. [Photo of Shane and Ilya kissing, wedding ring visible as Ilya cups the side of Shane’s face.]

                                                   @StickHandlerr77 bro is photoshoppping now.

*

“Shane, I post picture of us kissing. Still, they do not believe me!” Ilya exclaimed, shoving his phone into Shane’s face who was snuggled into bed next to him, reading on his Kindle. It was one of Ilya’s favorite times to spend with Shane, close in bed, just… together. This, though, this was an atrocity.

Shane glanced over at Ilya above his glasses, nose scrunched, “What are you talking about?”

Ilya wanted to lean over and kiss Shane’s stupid, wonderful freckles, but he stayed focused.

“Everyone is celebrating Scott Hunter as being first gay player! I tell them ‘no, is not true!’ They steal your lightning, котенок!” Ilya exclaimed.

“Thunder,” Shane corrected absentmindedly.

“What?” Ilya asked, confused.

“They steal my thunder,” Shane explained.

“It is the same thing, Shane. Cannot have one without the other,” Ilya dismissed, waving a hand in the air.  

“I don’t think that’s true, actually,” Shane said, brow furrowed like it got when he was about to think deeply about something that was definitely not the point right now.

“Is not the point, Shane. The point is I post beautiful picture of kissing my pretty husband, and people say it is not real!” Ilya whined.

“Okay,” Shane nodded, “so we tell them.”

“I just told you, Shane, the do not believe me,” Ilya huffed.

“Not on twitter, Ilya. Like—formally. It hasn’t been a secret for years, obviously but… we never did say anything officially. Maybe it’s time?” Shane suggested.

“Yes,” Ilya agreed, voice rough, “yes, is time for whole world to know you are mine and they cannot have you.”

Then finally, finally Ilya rolled over onto Shane to kiss his stupid, pretty freckles.

*

“We never formally announced our relationship, but it isn’t like we hid it,” Shane stated. Cameras flashed in their faces as they sat at the press table. Yuna and Farah had organized a press conference relatively quickly after Shane and Ilya had decided they were finally going to make a statement.

“I beg to differ. I have said many times how I like Shane Hollander. How I am with Shane Hollander. How I marry Shane Hollander,” Ilya said, smiling wide.

“Are you saying that all of the comments you’ve made about Shane Hollander have been… genuine?” One reporter asked, his face twisted in confusion.

“I do not know why everyone would assume I was joking?” Ilya shrugged.

“To be honest, I think we still kind of assume you are joking,” the reported said. There were scattered hums of agreement through the crowd.  

“I don’t even—” Shane sighed, not sure where to begin.

Ilya grabbed Shane’s face and kissed him square on the mouth in front of the cameras.

“Does this look like joke? Ha ha, I married Shane Hollander as joke after loving him since before rookie season. I move to Ottawa for Shane Hollander. I kiss Shane Hollander on mouth. Very funny joke, no?” Ilya stated, before smacking three more kisses across Shane’s face. “Mwah, mwah, mwah,” he punctuated each one.

“Are you saying the whole relationship is a sham?” A reporter Shane recognized from ESPN called out.

“What? No. It is sarcasm,” Ilya sighed.  

“So, you kissed because you are actually together?” Another voice asked.

“I don’t get what is so hard to understand about this,” Shane said, genuinely confused, “We’re married? It’s public record? We live in the same house together? We sleep in the same bed?”

*

@HollanderBabe24 “We sleep in the same bed together” yeah ya do 👅

@HockeyFan81 I think my brain is melting.

@HollanovTruther All I do is win win win no matter what.

@TMZ✅MLH player Ilya Rozanov admits to being in fake relationship with Shane Hollander in years-long prank, read about it below…

@IlyaRozanovOfficial✅🤦

@ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer✅We’re MARRIED. The only joke here is TMZ for reporting this crap.

       @IlyaRozanovOfficial✅😾😾😾<-- you 🥰🥰🥰

Chapter End Notes

😾 <- Shane

But seriously everyone, thank you so much for sticking with me through this even if it took forever.