Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander & Hayden Pike & Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Hayden Pike, Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

Misunderstandings, Hayden Pike Finds Out About Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, POV Hayden Pike, Humor, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, once again Hayden is trying to be a good ally but making terrible choices, he is honestly not being a very good friend but his intentions are pure, Texting, Relationship Reveal, Shane Hollander & Hayden Pike Friendship, I cannot stress enough that hayden is a dumbass, Drunk Shane Hollander, Fanwork Creator Knows Nothing About Hockey, Hayden is living in a buddy comedy and Ilya is living in a neo noir crime thriller, Angst with a Happy Ending, Protective Ilya Rozanov, mentions of Ilya's mother's suicide, mentions of Ilya's father's abuse, struggling to tag this because the chapters have wildly different vibes, Ilya Rozanov Needs A Hug, POV Ilya Rozanov, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, POV Shane Hollander

Language:

English

Series:

Part 4 of Hayden Pike Allying too Close to the Sun

Stats:

Published: 2026-04-03 Updated: 2026-06-19 Words: 17,571 Chapters: 5/7

Hayden Pike's Gay Agenda

Summary

When Shane drunkenly confesses that he is gay to Hayden, Hayden starts forming a plan to help his friend get his happily ever after.

Step 1: break up Shane and Lily. Step 2: get Shane a boyfriend. Step 3: get Shane gay married. Step 4: prosper.

Should be easy enough.

OR: Hayden is trying to figure out how to break up Shane and Lily. Ilya is trying to figure out who is sending him threatening texts about his relationship with Shane.

Notes

This is set after the all stars game but before Ilya's father passes away. So they are not anything official, but the feelings are definitely there.

I had this idea two days ago and I've been writing furiously since. I worked 16 hours yesterday and still wrote 1k words when I got home lol. This fandom has truly reinvigorated me.

Originally I was going to post this as a one-shot, but I am a slut for interaction and wanted to get this out as soon as possible. No promises on how long I will take to update, but I do promise I will finish this fic!

I have no beta so feel free to point out any errors (but don't be mean or I will cry)

Chapter 1

Chapter Notes

Hayden was drunk but Shane was absolutely wasted.

Shane had been in a good mood lately and the team had actually convinced him to join for a night out for once, after demolishing Dallas. Even more surprisingly, Shane had been willing to drink. Once he discovered vodka mixed with ginger ale was an option, it was game over.

Now, four vodka ginger ales and three shots later, Hayden had finally managed to drag his stumbling friend back to their hotel room. After Shane had attempted to sit on a bar stool and had landed on the floor instead, Hayden had decided it was time for them to go. The rest of the team had been enjoying Shane become increasingly more uninhibited, but Hayden didn't want Shane to end up actually doing anything that would be too embarrassing or dangerous.

"Hayyyyyyyden, I want to go back to the club. I was having so much fun," Shane whined, despite the fact he had immediately collapsed on the bed upon their arrival, his face pushed into the duvet and only one leg actually on the bed.

"Why? You miss that girl that was dancing on you all night?" Hayden teased.

"What girl?" Shane asked, looking confused.

Hayden gaped. "What girl? The brunette in the gold mini dress who was grinding on you and giving you "fuck me" eyes all night?"

"Oh. No. Ew. She's not my type."

Ew? Hayden had seen the woman and was fairly certain she was everyone's type. Hayden was a happily taken man but he saw the way other men had gravitated toward her (including some noticeably annoyed teammates), even as she only had eyes for Shane. Apparently all for naught. "Well what is your type?" Shane was always secretive about his sex life and preferences. Hayden was willing to take advantage of Shane's inebriated state to finally get some details.

"Big."

"Big?" Hayden repeated back. Big as in plus-size? Unexpected, but nothing wrong with that. It was taboo enough that it made sense he would feel uncomfortable bringing any girl to meet the team. Especially for her sake. 

Shane nodded sagely. "Big dick."

Hayden started choking on air while Shane giggled like he hadn't just dropped a nuclear bomb. "Huh- but- what- you- I- Gay?!"

Shane blinked blearily at Hayden. "You're gay?"

"What? No."

"Hi gay. I'm Shane."

"Shane, what? You shouldn't be making dad jokes, I'm the dad here!" Hayden remembered the more pressing matter, "Also you're the one who said you're gay!"

"Why would I say I'm gay? That's a secret."

"I don't know, man, you're the one who said you like big dick."

Shane sighed dreamily like a lovesick lead in a chick flick. "I do. I love sucking big dick. I love riding big dick. I love-"

"Okay!" Hayden loudly cut Shane off. "I don't need the details. But, that's fine, man. You know I'm okay, with that, right?"

Shane lifted from where it had collapsed back on the bed. Creases were already showing up from where he had smushed his face into the covers. "Okay with what?"

"I'm okay with you being gay."

"Oh. Okay. That's good to know if I ever decide to tell you I'm gay." The words were barely intelligible with how much he was slurring his speech.

This conversation was going nowhere. But Hayden, in his own drunk state, couldn't stop himself from prying. "Wait, what about Rose Landry?"

"Oh I love Rose! She's the best! But we are not compatible," Shane giggled, "She has no peg for my hole."

Hayden felt himself turning green and tried not to think about the implications of that. He supposed this was a logical explanation. What straight man would willingly leave Rose Landry? Still, "Well, what about Lily?"

"Lily?"

"Why are you always texting some girl on your phone named Lily if you're gay?"

Shane managed to look very unimpressed, even with his eyes half-lidded. "Cannot be texting someone with man name. Then people see and find out secret. Would be very bad. So, then, woman it is. I text Lily and nobody knows secret and everything is okay. Duh."

Hayden wanted to cry. He'd had no idea his friend was dealing with this. Hiding this part of himself. Forcing himself to be with a woman just because he thought there was no other option.

Hayden had always been a fan of Lily, even if he didn't know her. She was the closest to a long term relationship Shane had ever had and he always played better after he hooked up with her (or at least that's what Hayden had always assumed he had been doing). Hayden had no idea why Shane kept her a secret, but Hayden had just been glad Shane had somebody.

Now, Hayden was second guessing everything. Shane always seemed so happy when he was texting Lily, but was it all a front so no one would know he was actually gay? When he went out to hook up with Lily, was he even actually going out with Lily, or was that also a cover? Did he keep her hidden because he feared if anyone saw them together, they would be able to tell he was not actually interested in her? Or did he really just try to avoid seeing her altogether?

And what about Lily? Did she know her situationship/boyfriend/whatever they were was gay?

Hayden felt his heart breaking. This was so unfair for both of them.

Hayden snapped himself out of his reverie. "Shane, buddy, you don't need to do that. You shouldn't force yourself to be in a relationship with a woman just to make other people happy," Hayden stood up and started pacing. "You deserve to be happy! You don't need to do this with Lily. You need to break up with her. We can find you a man. And then you can be happy together and you two can come on double dates with me and Jackie. The kids will be thrilled to have a second uncle. And then you can come out when you're ready. Don't worry, I'll make sure the team is cool about it. Or, um, I'll do my best. Not sure what I can do about Comeau, but who gives a fuck about him. I'll kick his ass if I have to. I'll kick any homophobe's ass! And then you can have a big gay wedding and I can be the best man, obviously, and Amber can be the ring bearer and-" Hayden stopped.

Shane was passed out, softly snoring. Hayden wasn't sure if Shane had caught a single thing he just said.

Hayden sighed fondly. Encouraging Shane to drink so much had probably been unwise (and Shane will definitely think it was unwise when he has to deal with the hangover), but Hayden couldn't help but be grateful that it finally got his friend to open up to him.

Hayden removed Shane's shoes, knowing he would be upset if he woke up and realized he got in bed with them on, and then positioned him into a more comfortable position. Shane probably would not be happy he slept in slacks, but Hayden wasn't going to undress him without his consent. 

Hayden placed a water bottle and a couple of Tylenol on the nightstand by Shane, having no doubt he would wake up with a killer hangover. He also grabbed Shane's phone so he could charge it.

When he grabbed the phone, Hayden noticed it was unlocked and open to his texts. He caught the name at the top of the screen. Lily. The most recent text had been sent only minutes before.

Shane: i mjsh hsir sjxisjx ssjdhshhahajj

Hayden snorted. Clearly Shane had passed out while sending that gibberish. He wondered what Shane had been trying to say, if anything at all.

Hayden glanced back at Shane, who was still conked out. He knew it was wrong to snoop, but Shane was always so paranoid about his phone and right now was a once in a lifetime opportunity to read his texts.

The angel on his shoulder (which sounded suspiciously like Jackie) told him to put down the phone and respect his friend's privacy. The devil on his shoulder (which sounded suspiciously like himself) was desperate to know what Shane even talked about with Lily, especially now that he knew Shane wasn't attracted to women.

Promising himself he would only look through the texts with Lily and not do any further digging, Hayden scrolled up to the top of the exchange. He was surprised by the limited amount of texts, only going back a week. Shane must have his phone set to only keep messages for that long. Damn, Hayden's best friend was paranoid.

Lily: send pic

Shane had replied with a picture of the view from the hotel room they had stayed at a week prior.

Lily: 🙄

Lily: boring

Lily: send dirty pic 😈

Shane: You know I'm not going to do that

Lily: boooo

Lily: 👿

Lily: always so boring

Lily: does this change your mind?

message deleted

Shane: Fuck off

Shane: You know I'm just going to delete that

Lily: i thought canadians were supposed to be nice

Shane: 🙄

message deleted

Lily: 👅

Hayden felt enraged on his friend's behalf, seeing this woman try to pressure him into sending nudes when he clearly wasn't comfortable. Sure, Lily probably didn't realize Shane had no interest in sex acts with women (based on the texts, this did not appear to be a mutually agreed upon beard situation), but consent was still important. She had no right to shame Shane for his boundaries, and then outright violate them with her unsolicited pictures. He could only assume that's what all of the deleted texts were.

Hayden scrolled down to where the texts recommenced a day later.

Shane: Did you watch the admirals game?

Lily: no

Lily: if i want to watch dinosaur, i watch jurassic park

Lily: 🦖

Shane: lol

Shane: Commentators are saying Hunter is having a comeback

Shane: It's important to keep up with his games

Shane: Even if his career will be extinct soon

Lily: 😂

Lily: not important for me

Lily: but very important for second best player )))

Shane: Fuck you

Shane: I have the most points this season

Lily: for now

Lily: you wont after boston beats philly tomorrow

Shane: Dream on

Lily: maybe you could be best if you worked on your weak backhand

Shane: Fuck off

Hayden couldn't keep reading. Who did this chick think she was?? Sure, he knew Lily was from Boston, but he assumed she would have the decency to be a Montreal fan for Shane. And worst, she was implying Ilya Rozanov was the best player in the league? How could somebody so mean and with such objectively incorrect opinions end up with Shane? Why was Shane even entertaining this? Based on the texts, it seemed like he couldn't stand her.

Hayden wasn't sure what to do, but he knew things couldn't continue as they were. Shane was stuck in a loveless, sexless relationship with an emotionally abusive woman. And seemingly all because he was scared of anyone finding out he was gay.

A plan started forming in Hayden's mind.

Step 1: break up Shane and Lily. Step 2: get Shane a boyfriend. Step 3: get Shane gay married. Step 4: prosper.

What to call the plan? Operation: Get Shane a Boyfriend? Hayden Pike's Guide to Being a Good Ally and Even Better Bro? How to Lose a Lily in 10 Days? The Hollander Project?

No. Obviously there was only one appropriate name for this.

The Gay Agenda.

The perfect plan and name, but how to execute it? Obviously, the biggest barrier at the moment would be getting Shane to leave Lily. He would need to have a conversation with Shane and convince him to end the relationship. Not only was Lily a bad fit, Shane needed to be true to himself. He deserved to be in a fulfilling relationship and get his happily ever after. Hayden wanted for Shane want he had with Jackie. 

He knew it would be difficult. Hayden had no idea how he would convince Shane he needed to leave Lily. If they had been talking so long and not even Rose Landry or his sexuality could convince him to end things, then there was clearly something tethering him. Hayden was sure fear played a factor, but fear of what? Of being outed? Of hurting Lily? Of losing something familiar?

Getting Shane to open up was like trying to make nice with a feral, half-blind cat. Anything too aggressive and he'd go running. Anything too subtle and he wouldn't even know you tried. After almost a decade of friendship, Shane had only opened up about his sexuality after he was so drunk he couldn't stand. Hayden had no idea how he would get him to actually talk about Lily.

The only alternative was to get Lily to break up with Shane, but Hayden had no way of doing that. He didn't know her and didn't have enough information to find her.

Except…

Hayden glanced down at Shane's phone. He had kept his thumb on the screen to keep it unlocked and realized, in doing so, he had just created a golden opportunity for himself.

Before he could think better of it, Hayden pulled up Lily's contact info and copied it into his phone.

Hayden finally plugged in Shane's phone and set it on his night stand. He started getting ready for bed and debated his best course of action.

It would be easiest to just come out for Shane, text Lily, "break up with your boyfriend. he's gay." But Hayden couldn't out Shane. If he hadn't told Lily yet, there must have been a reason.

Should he lie and say Shane cheated on her? Should he offer her money? Should he just politely request that she leave Shane and hope she doesn't ask any question?

He guzzled a glass of water to hopefully stave off any pending hangover, and then slipped under the covers. He knew he should probably wait until morning when he was sober to send any text, but there was no way he'd be able to sleep if he was still trying to come up with the perfect message.

Finally, he decided just to send something straightforward, but still vague enough he wouldn't reveal anything about Shane.

Hayden: i know about you and shane

Hayden: if you care about him you need to end it

There. Short and simple.

Hayden Pike's Gay Agenda was officially a go.

Chapter End Notes

Random notes about this chapter:
-Shane got really excited about ginger ale and vodka because he thought of it as a combo of him and Ilya and he misses him like crazy
-Shane was trying to text "I miss your big dick" to Ilya but passed out part way through, hence the gibberish
-the first deleted message was Ilya's nude. The second was Shane's. But Hayden simply cannot fathom the idea of his bestie being a freak like that
-I wanted to do more texts about hockey but I unfortunately know nothing about hockey so I decided Hayden just got too upset to read anymore lol

Thank you so much for all of the interaction I have had on my Hollanov fics so far. Idk why I am only capable of writing fics where Hayden is a dumbass, but I found my niche and I'm glad others are enjoying it. Some people have left incredibly kind comments and I think about them all the time. If that's you, I love you and everything I write is dedicated to you from now on

Next chapter will be Hayden POV, and then we'll get some Ilya POV. In the meantime, if you liked this fic, consider checking out my other HR fics! I love writing Hayden trying to be a good ally and failing miserably, and I recently posted an angsty fic with Ilya's POV on one such incident

Come say hi to me on my tumblr! Thanks for reading and eternal thanks if you decide to comment!

Chapter 2

Chapter Summary

The next day

Chapter Notes

I was dying at how many people were losing it at Hayden's text at the end. If you thought that was bad, just wait... You’re going to have to suspend your disbelief a bit with just how stupid he is in this one.

This was supposed to be short but Hayden was dying to be a more nuanced character so get ready for some Hayden introspection (he is still a dumbass though, don't worry)

Also warning for discussions of vomiting! Nothing graphic, just the natural consequences of getting black out drunk

Hayden awoke to the sound of wretching. For a moment, he thought it was Jackie. Her morning sickness was always miserable.

He opened his eyes, blinking tiredly against the bright sun breaking through partially opened curtains, bringing a flash of pain to his head. He looked around and realized with a jolt that he was in a hotel room, not at home. He also remembered he'd had a vasectomy after kid number four and it was mid-season, so the wretching was definitely not Jackie.

He couldn't blame himself for taking a moment to realize that it was Shane vomiting in the hotel bathroom. They had been rooming together for years, and he had never seen Shane more than mildly hungover. But as bits and pieces of the night came back, including a memory of Shane shaking his ass to Flo Rida's Low, he had no doubt who was the cause of the unfortunate noises that woke him up.

Hayden groaned and fumbled at the night stand until he located his phone. He unlocked the screen to check the time and blearily stared at the rather aggressive messages awaiting him.

Unknown: who the fuck is this?

Unknown: how did you get this number?

Unknown: you think this is funny?

Unknown: you have no idea what you are talking about

What the fuck did Hayden do last night that warranted these texts?

He remembered the team winning against Dallas, then everyone going out to the club to celebrate, including Shane. He remembered being shocked when Shane agreed to drink something other than ginger ale (granted, it was ginger ale with vodka, but still) and joining the rest of the team in egging Shane on until he was more wasted than Hayden had ever seen. Then, for maybe the first time in their friendship, it was Hayden who had to be responsible and drag Shane back to the hotel, despite his protests (and despite Hayden's own inebriation).

Eventually they had made it back to the hotel, just barely in one piece, and Hayden had realized he had definitely been wise to drag Shane out when he did, because suddenly Shane was confessing-

Holy fucking shit.

Hayden sat up with a gasp, and then covered his eyes to try to stave of the wave of dizziness that had brought on.

Shane had come out! Shane was gay!

Speaking of Shane, Hayden was jolted out of his trip down memory lane when a loud groan came from the bathroom. Hayden glanced at the nightstand and saw the water bottle and pills he had left were untouched. He had no doubt Shane had bolted to the bathroom as soon as he had awoken, and probably hadn't even noticed Hayden's kind gesture.

Well, only one way to fix that problem now. "Don't worry, buddy, I'm coming!" Hayden shouted. He chose to interpret the loud responding groan as a thank you.

Hayden ambled to the bathroom where the light was still out. Probably for the best. Shane disliked overhead flourescent lights on a good day; Hayden didn't want to see how he would react in this state.

Shane's head was hanging in the toilet bowl, and he must be in a bad state if he was willingly putting his face so close to a toilet seat.

"Aw, did somebody drink too much last night? I told you not to have that third shot but you-"

"Shut the fuck up, Hayd."

"Yup, that's exactly what you said before taking the shot," Hayden laughed. After the many, many times Shane had mocked Hayden through a brutal hangover (not to mention the lack of mercy shown during practices when he was hungover), it was nice to get his revenge.

Still, he did feel bad for Shane, who was pale and shaking. "Here, this should help," Hayden said, holding out the water bottle and medicine.

Shane finally lifted his head, blinking bloodshot eyes at Hayden. He snatched the water bottle out of his hands as soon as he realized what was being offered, and started guzzling.

"Whoa, slow down or you'll make yourself sick again!"

Shane pulled the water bottle away from his face so quickly that some water splashed onto his chest. He was apparently very put off by the idea of any further vomiting, which Hayden appreciated. He took the proffered pills and swallowed them with a small sip of water.

Shane leaned his head back against the bathroom wall, closing his eyes. Hayden sat down on the edge of the bathtub and contemplated about the night before while he waited for Shane to recover enough for a conversation.

So, Shane had come out. That finally answered the question of why Shane willingly ended a relationship with Rose Landry. But Hayden had still been confused about Lily-

Lily! That's who those texts were from. Shane had revealed that he only spoke to Lily because she was a woman and Shane couldn't afford to have anything with a man. After Shane had so rudely passed out in the middle of Hayden's supportive speech, Hayden had taken the opportunity to look through Shane's texts with Lily. Probably not his proudest moment, but Shane had practically served his phone up on a silver platter. Plus, it was clearly good that Hayden had looked, because now Hayden knew that Shane was stuck in a verbally abusive relationship with a woman who didn't respect boundaries and was a fan of Boston. Obviously, Hayden needed to do something to help his friend.

Hayden winced, thinking back to the texts he received this morning. So his Gay Agenda was clearly not off to a great start. In hindsight, Hayden should have expected such aggression from Lily. She was clearly evil and a little unhinged (who the fuck thought Shane Hollander had a weak backhand?). Which meant Hayden probably needed to return to his initial plan if he wanted to get Shane and Lily to break up. Talking to Shane. Ugh.

Hayden had an easier time trying to get Arthur to eat vegetables than getting Shane to open up about his private life, and Arthur had thrown spinach at Hayden's face last month. This was not going to be fun, but such was the life of a good bro.

"So… last night, was fun, right?" Hayden hedged, hoping to get an idea of how Shane was feeling about coming out.

"How the fuck would I know," Shane griped, "I don't remember 90% of what happened last night."

"What?" Hayden supposed he shouldn't have been surprised Shane had been blackout, but that put him in a difficult position. "So you don't remember our conversation last night?"

"No, I don't even remember coming back to the hotel."

Hayden frowned. "You really don't remember talking about… you know…"

Shane opened one eye to glare at Hayden. "What?"

"You… revealed some stuff to me last night."

Shane shot into an upright position so quickly that Hayden was scared he would get whiplash. He looked wide awake and he looked terrified. "What? What did I say?"

Hayden gaped at Shane, not sure how to proceed. Sure, he had realized that Shane had only come out because he was drunk, but he hadn't realized just how scared Shane was of anyone knowing his secret. Of Hayden knowing his secret.

"Hayden, are you fucking with me? Please tell me I didn't say anything crazy. If I did, I probably didn't even mean it, okay? I was drunk, you can't take anything I said seriously, okay? But I didn't. Say anything crazy, I mean. Right?" Shane's eyes were glassy and his breath was speeding up. Hayden realized with a jolt that Shane was working himself into a panic attack.

"No, you didn't say anything crazy," Hayden forced a grin onto his face. "You just finally opened up about Rose Landry a little bit, said you weren't compatible," Hayden swallowed down the truth that was desperate to break free, "Whatever that means."

Shane slouched back down, starting to relax. "Really? That's it?"

So telling Shane that he had come out as gay was off the table. Hayden was scared to see how he would react. And honestly, he wanted Shane to come out to Hayden on his own terms, because he trusted him. That moment had seemed to special to Hayden, and he wanted it to be real.

But maybe there was still a way to further his Gay Agenda…

"Well, we also discussed Lily a bit. And about how maybe you weren't compatible with her either." That wasn't entirely the truth, but Hayden felt like it was basically true. Insofar as Shane was not compatible with any woman.

Shane snorted but he finally looked fully relaxed. "Well, clearly I didn't know what I was talking about. Why would I keep talking to Lily if we weren't compatible? Like I said, you should ignore everything I said last night. It was all nonsense."

Hayden smiled at Shane, and he was grateful the lights were out so Shane couldn't see how strained it was. "Totally," Hayden responded, as if he didn't know exactly why Shane would keep talking to somebody he wasn't compatible with. "Well, you should wash up. I'm gonna go find some greasy food. But don't worry, I'll find some bird food for you."

Shane groaned, "Ugh, I can't even think about eating right now."

"You need to eat something. We're going to the gym in a few hours, remember?"

Hayden laughed at Shane's resulting groan, smiling at his friend's misery. Pretending he wasn't stuck with the knowledge his friend was always miserable.

~~~

Hayden picked a bagel place a few blocks away to grab breakfast. He could have grabbed something from the hotel cafe downstairs, but he needed some time to think. Plus, he would prefer not to be present if Shane started vomiting again.

Hayden was at a loss for what to do. Usually, he would call and ask Jackie for advice. But asking Jackie would mean outing Shane, and even though he knew Jackie would be supportive and would take that secret to the grave, it still wasn't his secret to share. He remembered the look of terror on Shane's face at the prospect of Hayden knowing his secret. Even if Shane would never find out, he wouldn't break his friend's trust like that.

So Hayden had to figure this out on his own. Which sucked, because Hayden wasn't the most emotionally competent. He had tried to improve since marrying Jackie and becoming a father, but he was surrounded constantly by men who thought any emotion other than rage or confidence was simply a vulnerability ripe for exploitation.

But that wasn't the type of man Hayden wanted to be. Not for Jackie and not for his kids. And, now, not for Shane. He was just still trying to figure out what that meant. The new angle of trying to be a good ally was yet another complication he just hoped he would be able to manage. 

Talking to Shane was off the table, based on how their conversation in the bathroom went. Hayden would do his best to be supportive to Shane and show he could be trusted, and hopefully they could eventually reach a point where Shane felt comfortable enough to come out to Hayden, completely sober and of his own volition. But Hayden had no delusions that would happen any time soon. And he refused to let Shane stay in a toxic relationship that he, for some reason, was forcing himself to endure. Shane needed out, like yesterday.

So the only option that was left was back to talking to Lily. He just needed to convince her to end things, without revealing Shane's secret. And ideally without revealing his own identity, since he wasn't even supposed to have her phone number. And without knowing anything about her, other than that she was a terrible girlfriend with bad hockey takes. Sure, should be easy enough.

Hayden placed his order—a bacon, egg, and cheese with coffee for himself, and something with egg whites and kale plus a disgustingly green smoothie for Shane—and then pulled out his phone while he waited. He looked back at the messages with Lily, and saved her contact info. Not under "Lily," because he wasn't sure how he would explain that to Shane if he saw, but something more apt.

Hayden: i know about you and shane

Hayden: if you care about him you need to end it

Evil Lady: who the fuck is this?

Evil Lady: how did you get this number?

Evil Lady: you think this is funny?

Evil Lady: you have no idea what you are talking about

Hayden decided to respond, before he could think better of it. The sooner he could get Lily off Shane's back, the better.

Hayden: It doesn't matter who I am

Hayden: I am just a concerned friend

Hayden: Don't lie, I know you and shane have been something for years

Hayden: and I'm telling you that you need to cut this off

Hayden: or you will both be hurt

He really hoped Lily would just take him at his word, even if he knew he was being foolishly optimistic. Because this relationship was already hurting Shane, and no doubt Lily would also be hurt when she discovered Shane was gay, which seemed like an inevitability. He just had to hope the prospect of this relationship hurting her and Shane would be enough for her to end things, no matter how vague Hayden was.

Hayden walked back to the hotel, munching on his breakfast sandwich, and made a quick call to Jackie to see how the kids were doing. He already felt lighter, knowing he was helping his friend on his way to his own happily ever after. This Gay Agenda was stressful right now, but it would all be worth it once Shane had his own Jackie.

Shane was already up and dressed by the time Hayden got back to the hotel, fortunately no longer hunched over a toilet and instead watching hockey replays on his iPad, because of course he was. He eagerly took his breakfast, but made clear his head was still pounding too much to hold a conversation. That was fine with Hayden; he honestly wasn't sure how he was supposed to have a normal conversation with Shane without revealing what he knew.

Hayden settled into his respective bed and checked his phone to see if Lily had responded. He immediately started choking on air when he read her response.

Evil Lady: i will fucking hunt you down and gut you if you hurt him

What the actual fuck?

Hayden waved away Shane's concern at his coughing fit and tried to calm himself down. Okay, so this woman was actually a psychopath. It was kind of sweet she cared to much about Shane, in a way, but Hayden was getting nervous. It seemed like Lily might be legitimately dangerous. He was also a bit offended at the notion that he would hurt Shane, when Lily was the one actively harming Shane.

Hayden: I am not going to hurt him

Hayden: It's being with you that's hurting him

Lily responded in less than a minute.

Evil Lady: you want money? is that it?

Evil Lady: or you just want to feel like big tough man?

Evil Lady: that's why you make your little threats

Jeez who was this chick? Was she in the mafia or something? Why else would she immediately assume this was about money? Actually, now that Hayden thought about it, that did make sense. It explained her very aggressive and violent response, and explained why Shane was scared of leaving her. Hayden hoped he was wrong, but he felt all the more certain he needed to end this relationship ASAP and do it without revealing any sensitive information about himself or Shane.

Hayden: It's not a threat

Hayden: It is a promise

Hayden: You're both going to end up hurt if you don't end things

Hayden: Trust me, I know Shane and I know what I'm talking about

Hayden: So just end it

~~~

Lily didn't respond until a few hours later, when Hayden and Shane were already at the gym. Hayden almost fell off his treadmill in his haste to read her message.

Evil Lady: i do not believe you

Evil Lady: you are bluffing

Evil Lady: you know nothing

Evil Lady: you will lose this number if you know what is good for you

God, this woman was really starting to piss Hayden off. She was being so difficult and spoke like she was in the Godfather. He typed out an angry response without bothering to think it through.

Hayden: No you will lose Shane's number if you know what's good for you

Hayden: and for him

Hayden looked over at Shane, who was pedaling furiously on an exercise bike, hangover already forgotten, which seemed unfair. But that was just par for the course for Shane. He wouldn't let something as trivial as a hangover get in the way of training. He didn't let anything stop him from being the best. Hayden had been his teammate and occasional roommate for years; he knew that better than anyone.

Hayden was struck by that thought. Did he know Shane better than anyone? Was there anyone else who knew Shane was gay? Did he have a single person he trusted with that information? Was Hayden the only person who knew the real Shane? The only person in any position to help him?

Fuck Lily, she was the one who knew nothing. Hayden was the one who knew Shane best, and that's why he had to save his friend. He fired off another text.

Hayden: and I know plenty

Hayden: more than you

He couldn't reveal his relation to Shane, but he could still provide some proof. He snapped a quick photo of Shane, still on his exercise bike. It was a couple rows away and at an awkward angle, but still unmistakably Shane Hollander. He attached the photo and texted Lily.

Hayden: I know Shane

There, now Lily could no longer deny that Hayden knew Shane and knew what he was talking about. He really hoped this worked, because Hayden didn't know what else he could say while keeping his Shane's secret and hiding his identity.

He had honestly probably said too much already. With that picture, now Lily would know that the texts were sent by someone close to Shane. She could probably figure out it was a teammate, and then it would a logical guess that it would be the player Shane bunked with. Hayden just had to hope that she wasn't that invested in figuring it out. And hope that she wasn't some sort of a mob boss, or, if she was, that she wasn't vindictive. Based on her texts so far, that was probably a foolish hope.

Hayden was so lost in thought that he didn't even notice Shane approaching until he heard a throat clearing and almost fell off his treadmill (again).

"Jeez, I was just coming over to check if you were ready to head out, I didn't mean to scare you. I guess I'm not the only one who drank too much last night." Shane smirked, looking far too pleased at the thought of his friend sharing in his suffering.

Hayden lightly shoved Shane's shoulder, but got off the treadmill. "Yeah, whatever, I'm ready. I'm just a little tired. You may have already recovered from your hangover because you're freakishly healthy, but I'm sure you'll agree you are the one who drank too much when I show you the video I have of you attempting to twerk to Meghan Trainor."

The noise Shane let out sounded like a dying bird, and Hayden laughed all the way back to their hotel room.

~~~

Lily didn't text until a little under an hour later, after Hayden had already showered and Shane had taken over the bathroom. But it wasn't Hayden she texted, it was Shane.

Hayden was playing candy crush in his hotel bed but was distracted when Shane's phone chimed. Shane had left it on the nightstand while he showered. Hayden had to check, desperate to know if it was Lily. He rolled his eyes when he saw that it was, annoyed that she still wasn't listening to him, only to feel a rush of relief when he actually read the notification.

Lily: we cannot do this anymore. I'm sorry

Oh my god. Hayden had done it. He actually broke them up. Shane was finally free!

Hayden still hated Lily, but he appreciated that she cared enough about Shane's well being to end things. It seemed like realizing the texts were coming from a friend of Shane's made her realize the concern was genuine and ending things really was for the best. Hayden respected that. He sent her a text from his own phone.

Hayden: Thank you

Hayden: You will see this is for the best

Hayden beamed as he opened up Google and started searching for gay bars in Montreal. He would have to ask Jackie if she had any gay friends who were single. Hayden was so excited to start on step two of his Gay Agenda. He would share about this moment in his best man speech and everyone would laugh. He could not wait.

Man, he was such a good ally.

Chapter End Notes

Oh Hayden...

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Up next, we see how Ilya is dealing with these texts. Super well, as I'm sure you can guess

As always, thank you for all the comments and interaction! I don't respond to many comments but I love and cherish each of them and they are what inspire me to write!

Also I changed up the formatting for the texts a little bit. Lmk if it is better or worse or if I should do something else.

Thanks for reading and eternal thanks if you comment :)

Chapter 3

Chapter Summary

Ilya's POV of the last two chapters. Prepare for some major angst.

Chapter Notes

Please forgive me for this chapter. Like I said in the tags, this is a comedy for Hayden, but Ilya is actually living through a nightmare. There is major angst and canon typical discussion of Ilya's depression and childhood, including his father's abuse and his mother's suicide. I updated the tags but please let me know if I should add more. Hopefully this is not actually quite as intense as I am making it sound, I just figure it's better safe than sorry!

Ilya would never admit how widely he smiled when he saw the text from Shane. He didn't need anymore fuel for the (true) rumors that he was whipped.

Ever since All-Stars, something had shifted between him and Shane. It's not like they had a label or anything. He still knew they could never be anything real or long term.

But it felt real. Ilya had long ago succumbed to the realization that Shane consumed his thoughts. He tried to ignore it. He tried going out to clubs, getting wasted, dancing with beautiful women, chasing the dopamine boosts that used to be the norm for him.

But it was never enough. No matter what he did, all he could think about was a hockey player with freckles.

It was no longer just sex and, even if he had only admitted it recently, it hadn't been for years. He wanted Shane's face to be the first he saw every morning. He wanted to talk to him about anything and everything, about hockey and life. He wanted to meet Shane's parents. He wanted a house and a dog and a family with Shane.

He wanted things he was not allowed to want. But he had stopped resisting, and accepted that he could not change it. He allowed himself these desires in private, even knowing they were not possible.

He had almost lost it all. After the tuna melt fiasco, he had been sure what he had with Shane, whatever it was, was over. He got too needy. He whispered "Shane" and showed his hand, showed he was losing control of himself and the meaning of casual. And Shane had wisened up. He had seen the red flags and fled Ilya's house like it was a crime scene.

And Ilya couldn't even blame him. Ilya had been overzealous with his tuna melts and ginger ale and actual sleeping together; he had reached for the moon and landed flat on his ass. He had been devastated when he saw the Rose Landry pap photos, and he had felt angry. But never with Hollander. Shane was doing the smart thing. The thing Ilya was too weak to do. Shane deserved to live freely and openly. Golden boy Shane didn't need or deserve a dirty little secret like Ilya.

And yet. Somehow, for some reason, Shane came back. And Ilya was too selfish, too weak, too addicted to shut it down.

So now they were in limbo, some in between where they pretended to be something they could never be. And Ilya loved it. He had been riding on cloud nine. His teammates had noticed and he was too happy to care. Shane and him texted like they were friends. It was no longer just sex. And as much as he would pester Shane for photos and sexts, it was the mundane texts that made his heart flutter. Gave him butterflies like he was a teenager. Because it was proof that Shane thought of him the way Ilya thought of him. Constantly.

So when he woke up to notifications on his screen, his eyes searched for "Jane" like a honing missile, like always. And when he saw an absolutely gibberish text from Shane and knew Shane had drunk texted him—that Shane had thought of him while he was drunk—he was practically giddy.

But that feeling plummeted away when he read the other notifications.

Unknown: i know about you and shane

Unknown: if you care about him you need to end it

It was something out of Ilya's nightmares. Somehow, Ilya had been too reckless, and he had unwittingly exposed the secret he had spent the past almost decade painstakingly covering up.

His first thought was to text Shane. To let him know that somebody knew about them and it was probably Ilya's fault. That somebody knew and was using that info to try and tear them apart.

But then Ilya thought of the terror he saw on Shane's face after uttering his name in his home. The way he had fled. The agony of watching him be with somebody else and knowing it was for the best.

And then he thought of All-Stars. Of Shane confessing to actually liking Ilya. Liking him too much. He was aware of the risk and somehow still thought Ilya was worth it.

And he thought of the high he had been riding since then. The stolen moments they now shared even when in separate cities, their constant texts, Shane's dry humor and Ilya's poking and prodding. What seemed like nothing but was everything.

And Ilya knew in his bones, if he texted Shane informing him of these texts, what they had been building for the past couple of weeks would come crumbling down.

He knew how paranoid Shane was, and that this would surely send him spiraling. He could already hear Shane berating himself for being too careless, for giving in to something as sentimental and trivial as love feelings.

Ilya didn't know if Shane would ever forgive him, and he didn't know if he was strong enough for that.

So, telling himself it was to protect Shane but knowing it was to protect himself, Ilya resolved not to tell Shane. He would figure out what the anonymous texted wanted, and make a plan from there. 

First, he responded to Shane, allowing himself to put off the terrifying situation awaiting him in his inbox for a brief moment of bliss.

Lily: having fun without me?

He could already imagine Shane's angry reactions. His cute face when he glared at his screen. Ilya couldn't lose that.

Now to text the scum who somehow figured him out. It appeared to be a Montréal number and came only minutes after Shane's text. Was there a connection? Could this have to do with Shane getting drunk last night? But Shane was in Dallas and the most neurotic person Ilya knew. He couldn't imagine Shane revealing anything, even drunk. Plus, how would they have gotten Ilya's number, when Shane clearly had his phone if he was sending texts?

For all Ilya knew, this person did not actually know anything about Shane. They hadn't said anything specific. They could be referring to his rivalry with Shane. Or maybe it was in reference to their budding friendship that a small but vocal part of the internet had been rooting for ever since All-Stars. He knew nothing.

Unfortunately, the only way he would find anything out was by engaging.

Ilya: who the fuck is this?

Ilya: how did you get this number?

Ilya: you think this is funny?

Ilya: you have no idea what you are talking about

Hopefully this was just some sort of prank, and he could scare them off. His reputation preceded him and he hoped whoever this was would realize it wasn't worth fucking with him.

He spent the next hour flinching at every new notification that popped up. He felt sick with anticipation. With every minute that passed without a response from Shane or the unknown number, his thoughts spiraled further.

He tried telling himself that this was good. No response from Shane meant he was either sleeping in or nursing a hangover after cutting loose for once in his life. No response from the unknown number meant Ilya might have scared them away. Made them realize just how ill-conceived of an idea it was to fuck with Ilya Rozanov.

But… what if it was something worse? What if someone had stolen Shane's phone, and that's how they got Ilya's number? Or what if someone had drugged Shane? What if the text wasn't drunken rambling but the desperate attempt to reach out for help while too incoherent to even type, and Ilya had just laughed? God, what if they had Shane right now? What if someone had drugged Shane and stolen his phone and then kidnapped him and what if they killed him and what if Ilya never got to tell him he loved him and-

Ilya physically shook his head to break himself out of his panic. He was being ridiculous. He always felt too much when it came to Hollander but this was just pathetic. There was no basis for any of those fears and Ilya was just an idiot who lived in constant terror of losing the people he loved had a flare for the dramatic.

Still, he couldn't help but send Shane another text.

Lily: are you ok?

Ilya cringed as soon as he sent it. He needed to get a grip. He knew intensity and clinginess scared Shane. He couldn't let these mystery texts stress him to the point he ended up ruining everything all by himself.

He got up and went to the bathroom, started getting ready for the day. They didn't have a game today but he did have training in a few hours. He allowed himself a long, hot shower, and forced himself to relax.

The relaxation was zapped away as soon as he got out of the shower and looked at his screen. Multiple notifications from the unknown number and from Shane. His whole body tensed, feeling like a cornered animal.

He read Shane's texts first, because Shane always came first.

Jane: Fuck off

Jane: How do you do this so often?

Jane: Why do you do this so often?

Jane: I'm never drinking again

Jane: I feel like my brain is going to pound out of my skull

Ilya felt a smile forming, despite himself. No matter what was going on his life, talking to Shane always brought a spark of joy.

Lily: russians do not get hungover

Lily: i understand why you do not usually drink

Lily: your weak canadian blood cannot handle alcohol

Lily: only ginger ale

Ilya wished he could be there with Shane right now. Was he sick, leaned over a toilet bowl? Or was he laying in bed? Ilya wished he could be there, to rub his back and bring him ginger ale and kiss his forehead.

His domestic fantasy popped and he was snapped back to reality, reminded why those fantasies would only ever be fantasies, when he read the other texts awaiting him.

Unknown: It doesn't matter who I am

Unknown: I am just a concerned friend

Unknown: Don't lie, I know you and shane have been something for years

Unknown: and I'm telling you that you need to cut this off

Unknown: or you will both be hurt

Who the fuck was this person, threatening both him and Shane?

His mind flew to Russia, the place it always ended back, no matter how far he ran. The cold and miserable place that took his mother and he feared would one day take him too. Could that be where this "concerned friend" was from? He knew how many people from his home country would be angered if whatever he had with Shane was ever revealed. Could this be someone who really was trying to protect him, who was aware the threat of Russia was looming closer than he realized? Or was it someone angered at the idea of him disgracing his people, personally warning him of the hell that would be unleashed upon both him and Shane if this continued? With his status as the as the family member of respected police officers, and his status as an a top player of the league, an unwitting representative of his country, there were no limits on enemies who would want his relationship buried before it could become uncovered. It could be someone tied to the government. To the bratva. To his family. Or it could be somebody with no connection to Russia. It could somebody tied to the league. To the media. To Hollander.

Ilya knew nothing. But this was not the first time scum had tried exerting control over him. He had learned long ago that little was gained from rolling over and accepting threats. Survival required fighting back.

Ilya: i will fucking hunt you down and gut you if you hurt him

This mystery person wasn't the only one who could make threats. And this was a threat Ilya intended to keep. He logically knew between him and Shane, he had the most to lose if their relationship was revealed. He would either never be able to return to Russia, or, worse, be forced back to Russia for a fate he would rather not imagine. But that thought was in the background, eclipsed by the rage and fear he felt at the thought of somebody hurting Shane. Whoever this person was, if they hurt Shane—physically, mentally, financially—Ilya would end them.

Unknown: I am not going to hurt him

Unknown: it's being with you that's hurting him

The messages only enraged Ilya further. His whole life, the blame was always placed on him. His father wouldn't have to hurt him if he stopped being such a lazy, little shit. His brother wouldn't need to contact him for money if he just provided more. His mother wouldn't have left him if he had been a better son.

His entire life he was hurt and told it was his fault. And now, he was told Shane would be hurt and it was his fault, all for the crime of loving him.

And, just like that little boy who stared at his mother's grave and wondered what he did wrong, he didn't know why.

Ilya: you want money? is that it?

Ilya: or you just want to feel like big tough man?

Ilya: that's why you make your little threats

In his experience, it always led back to greed or insecurity. People hurt him because of their own shortcomings. They blamed him because they could not accept their own inferiority. He would not let one of these pieces of shit ruin what he had with Shane.

Unknown: It is not a threat

Unknown: It is a promise

Unknown: You're both going to end up hurt if you don't end things

Unknown: Trust me, I know Shane and I know what I'm talking about

Unknown: So just end it

Ilya wanted to scream. Whoever this person was, the only thing they wanted was for Ilya to not be with Shane. They were threatening him and Shane both and offering no alternative. No explanation. Just a guarantee of pain. How was Ilya supposed to work with that?

Ilya cursed when he realized the time. He had to be at the rink in half an hour. There was nothing he wanted more than to skip practice and resolve this issue, but he was the captain, and he had a responsibility to his team. He headed to the rink. 

~~~~~

Most of the team steered clear of Ilya in the dressing room, able to tell he was in one of his moods. He heard Carmichael whispering in the locker room, asking if Montreal Jane had left him again, but just tuned him out. All he could do at the moment was focus on hockey. He would make it up to the team once he got this blackmail bullshit sorted.

Ilya let his brain turn off on the ice, letting himself run through the routines that came as naturally as breathing. By the time it ended, he wasn't quite relaxed, but he had calmed down, allowed himself to think rationally.

He had catastrophized when he had read the texts, so used to expecting the worst, but those texts had been nothing more than vague threats. They could say they "knew" Shane and Ilya were something, but that didn't mean they had any proof. This was a person too cowardly to reveal themsevles, hiding behind a screen, and it was silly for Ilya to work himself into a panic. This person had no leverage and Ilya was giving them power over him they did not deserve.

He wanted to just let it go, stop responding and continue on with his life.

But he couldn't stop himself from sending another text once he got back home. He knew thoughts of this menace would fester in the back of his mind if he didn't address this. And he had always had a bad habit of needing the last word.

Ilya: i do not believe you

Ilya: you are bluffing

Ilya: you know nothing

Ilya: you will lose this number if you know what is good for you

He exited out of the chat, hoping that would be the end of that, and switched to the unopened text he had from Shane.

Jane: Fuck you

Jane: There's nothing wrong with ginger ale

Jane: It's a good drink

Ilya smiled and typed a response.

Lily: no nothing wrong with it

Lily: perfect drink for you

Lily: boring drink for boring canadian

Ilya stared at the message, waiting to see if the grey bubbles would pop up. He would never admit the way he would just stare at his chat with Shane after sending a message some days, like a dog eagerly waiting at the door for their owner to come home.

But instead of a text from Shane, he got a notification from the unknown number.

Unknown: No you will lose Shane's number if you know what's good for you

Unknown: and for him

Ilya rolled his eyes. Wow, what a clever threat. Ilya was so scared.

Two more texts came through in rapid succession.

Unknown: and I know plenty

Unknown: more than you

His cockiness vanished and was replaced with a pit of dread when another text came through, this time with a photo attached.

Oh god, it was going to be a photo of him and Shane, wasn't it? Actual, tangible blackmail material that would force Ilya's hand. He would have to choose between his relationship with Shane, or both of their careers and safety. How could he make that decision?

With shaking fingers, he opened the photo.

It was not a picture of him and Shane, and he felt a moment of relief, until the dread started creeping back.

It was a picture of Shane, one that was clearly not professional. The picture was somewhat blurry, but it was clearly Shane, riding an exercise bike. The photo was taken at angle and from behind, multiple pieces of exercise equipment in between Shane and the photographer, like the photographer didn't want to be noticed. It looked like a typical celebrity spotting he would see on twitter, an excited fan sharing that they had been at the gym at the same time as The Shane Hollander, but were too shy or polite to approach him. But he had never seen this photo (and he maybe followed a couple dozen Shane Hollander update accounts and saw most photos of Shane—a sad substitute for having personal photos of Shane on his phone, but the only option that was safe).

He could feel a cold pit forming in his stomach.

Ilya quickly saved the photo and put it into reverse image search, hoping and praying this would pop up as a recent sighting from a fan that Ilya simply had yet to see and that the mystery texter thought they were clever sending.

Zero results.

Another text.

Unknown: I know Shane

Fuck.

This mystery person was stalking Shane.

Ilya desperately hoped he was wrong, and sent a text to Shane as a final hail mary.

Lily: what are you doing right now?

He bit a hangnail on his thumb, tugging at until it bled, while he waited for Shane to respond. He needed Shane to say he was at his hotel room, or at lunch, or at the airport. Anything except-

Jane: Just finishing up at the gym

Jane: Had a set on an exercise bike

Jane: Fortunately there were no annoying Russians nearby trying to race me to death ;)

Jane: Although I could definitely beat you now

Jane: Even hungover

Jane: Also I am still in public so don't even try to start something

Jane: If that's why you are asking

Ilya was going to be sick. This was worse than just a threat of a forced outing. 

This person who promised they would hurt Shane if Ilya did not break up with him was watching Shane at this very moment. Following him. And Shane had no idea he was in danger. This person could have a weapon, or even unarmed, if they were big enough, they could seriously harm Shane when he was unguarded. And it would be all Ilya's fault.

Ilya felt like the room was losing oxygen. Horrific images filled his mind. His typical thought of Shane's smiling, freckled face, now bloody and bruised. Shane with his arm at an awkward angle, Shane with a knife protruding from his side, Shane coughing up blood.

Shane lying limp on the floor, eyes glazed over, dead just like his mama.

Ilya ran to the restroom and heaved into the toilet, realizing he had forgotten to eat anything all day when only bile came out. Tears collected in his eyes and he wasn't sure if it was from his harsh gagging or his all encompassing fear.

Fuck. Ilya realized with sudden clarity two horrible truths all at once.

One, Ilya Rozanov was in love with Shane Hollander.

Two, Ilya would do anything to protect Shane, even if it meant losing him.

It felt like a stab to the heart, the idea of breaking up with Shane (could it even be called breaking up if they were nothing to begin with? not that it mattered now) after everything they had been through, but the pain paled in comparison to the idea that Shane could be hurt because of Ilya. He would rather rip his own heart out.

Ilya forced himself away from the toilet. He needed a plan. Crying like a child wouldn't fix anything.

Ilya stood at the sink and splashed water on his face. He needed to pull himself together. For Shane.

Think.

Was there anyway he could come out of this with heart in tact—Shane safe and still part of Ilya's life. Shane's safety took priority, but he couldn't give up on the most important thing in his life without a fight.

Ilya desperately wished he could go to somebody for help. Should he go to the cops? No, there would be no way to explain this without revealing his relationship with Shane. He had spent his whole life seeing crooked cops, and he knew that would just be begging for a leak.

There was nobody he could go to, because there was nobody who knew about them. Only Ilya and Shane.

Shane… Shane would know what to do. He always had a plan. Ilya could try contacting Shane, but who knew what would happen if the stalker realized that Ilya had reached out to Shane. What pain would they inflict on him?

No, if he wanted to talk to Shane, he needed to get the stalker off his scent first. He needed the stalker to believe that Ilya complied with their wishes and ended things. But once he convinced them he had ended things, then he could reach out to Shane, and Shane would have a plan, and everything would be alright.

Yes, that's what he would do. He would text the stalker that he ended things, wait a few hours, and then call Shane.

He hated to do it, but he knew the best way to convince the stalker would be with actual evidence. Taking a deep breath, he composed a message to Shane, and desperately hoped Shane would forgive him.

Lily: we cannot do this anymore. I'm sorry

He paused before sending. He knew how badly this would hurt Shane, especially after their conversation in Tampa. Hurting Shane was the last thing he wanted to do, but it was better than the alternative of Shane being physically hurt, and he could clarify everything soon, and Shane would understand. He was always so understanding with Ilya.

Ilya sent the text.

He took a screenshot and prepared to send the message to the unknown number. Hopefully this would be enough for them, and they would leave Shane alone. The next steps could only come after he knew Shane was no longer in immediate danger.

But before Ilya could send the text, the stalker sent a text of their own.

Unknown: Thank you

Unknown: You will see this is for the best

The pit of despair in his stomach grew into a chasm.

They knew. Ilya hadn't sent the text yet and they already knew.

The stalker had access to either his or Shane's messages, or both. Not only did that mean this person was an even greater threat than he originally anticipated, it meant they would know if Ilya reached out to Shane.

FUCK.

Ilya threw his phone across the room, disgusted and horrified at the thought of this monster using it to spy on him.

The stalker had won. Ilya had just ended things with Shane, and he couldn't even explain that he didn't mean it. Worst of all, maybe he did mean it. This was too much. The risk was too great. The only way Ilya could keep Shane safe was by removing himself from the equation.

Ilya finally let the tears fall. Maybe this was simply what he deserved. Maybe Ilya wasn't meant to love or be loved.

Still, he couldn't stop the agony at the realization he would never get to tell Shane he loved him.

Chapter End Notes

Yeah, Ilya is really going through it... Hope you enjoyed this chapter despite the major tonal shift! I simply cannot write Ilya as anything other than an angst-fueled lover boy. If you liked this chapter, you should check out my fic When The World Falls Apart, also featuring Ilya being extremely angsty while Hayden fails horribly at trying to be a good ally. If you didn't like this chapter... sorry ig lmao.

Please share your thoughts in the comments and thank you so much to everyone who has commented so far! And do not despair. The boys will get their happy ending eventually (and Hayden will suffer lol)

Chapter 4

Chapter Summary

Shane's POV of the last two chapters

Chapter Notes

If you were hoping to see what happens next... whoops, sorry. You get this instead.

Ignore the fact the chapter count went up again. I have no control over this story.

Apologies if this chapter is a bit of a mess. I have no beta and I'm too exhausted to be an effective editor. Hope you still enjoy and feel free to (politely) point out any mistakes!

Shane was only slightly ashamed to admit that upon waking up, his first thought was of Ilya. It always was.

His second thought was, Oh fuck, I'm going to vomit.

He did, in fact, proceed to vomit. At least he had the wherewithal to make it the toilet first.

As he crouched over the hotel toilet, he tried to remember what had happened the night before. He remembered going to a club with his team, and somebody had offered him a ginger ale mixed with vodka. He had been practically giddy at the way the drink made him think of Ilya; a physical manifestation of the two of them intertwined. The warmth that filled his belly with each sip was addicting (at the time he had assumed it was the reminder of Ilya, but in hindsight was probably just the vodka).

Shane couldn't remember anything after his second drink, but based on the pounding in his head and the contents in the toilet, he had to assume it was quite a bit more alcohol. He hadn't been blackout drunk since the last time he won the Stanley Cup, and this was a great reminder of why he usually avoided drinking altogether during the season.

But he had felt so much looser in the past few weeks. Ever since he had confessed his feelings to Ilya at the all-stars game, and confessed his sexuality to himself for the first time shortly before that, he had been feeling free in a way he never had before. He didn't realize how much he was burdened by his own self-denial until he was no longer carrying that weight.

The downside of the decreased anxiety was an apparent increase in recklessness. Now, his body was paying the price.

A couple minutes into his suffering, Hayden entered the bathroom, and Shane ignored the twinge of disappointment he felt that it wasn't Ilya. Which was a ridiculous way to feel, since he would be mortified if Ilya actually saw him in this state. At least he had seen Hayden just as bad, if not worse, on many occassions. Shane had never seen Ilya anything less than sexy. To be fair, Shane probably would find Ilya sexy even if he was the one sweating and trembling while puking into a hotel toilet, but he doubted the feeling would be mutual. So he should just be grateful that Ilya was not around to see Shane at his worst. But apparently being hungover brought out a disgusting level of sentimentality in Shane, or maybe it was just being in love.

"Aw, did somebody drink too much last night? I told you not to have that third shot but you-"

"Shut the fuck up, Hayd," Shane groaned. He had certainly chirped Hayden just as mercilessly through many hangovers, but he was not enjoying being on the receiving end (Hayden was not the person Shane would like to be on the receiving end with anyway).

"Yup, that's exactly what you said before taking the shot," Hayden laughed, because apparently Shane's best friend was evil.

He quickly followed up with an offering of a water bottle and medicine, so maybe he wasn't so evil afterall.

Shane snatched the water bottle and started guzzling, hit with sudden realization of just how thirsty he was. He had forgotten the way being hungover left him feeling more like he had spent the night in the desert than a sleazy club.

"Whoa, slow down or you'll make yourself sick again!"

Shane shoved the water bottle away from his face so quickly that some water splashed onto his chest. He didn't think his body could take it if he was sick again. He already felt like some of his guts must have come out in the upheaval. He took the proffered pills and swallowed them with a small sip of water.

Shane leaned his head back against the bathroom wall, closing his eyes, grateful that Hayden was staying silent. He needed quiet while he waited for the water and pill to hopefully rid him of this awful headache.

"So… last night, was fun, right?" Hayden asked. So much for silence. Shane was back to believing Hayden was evil.

"How the fuck would I know," Shane griped, "I don't remember 90% of what happened last night."

"What?" Shane had no idea why Hayden sounded so surprised. He would think seeing Shane pale and shaking over a toilet would be a good indicator of just how drunk he had been, but Hayden never was the brightest. Shane assumed that was the natural consequence of years of sleep deprivation from having four young kids. "So you don't remember our conversation last night?"

"No, I don't even remember coming back to the hotel," Shane admitted. He had to assume Hayden was the reason Shane made it back safely, and reminded himself to thank him when he no longer felt like he was dying and no longer felt like Hayden was evil.

Hayden frowned. "You really don't remember talking about… you know…"

Shane really wished Hayden would stop drawing this out. His head was still killing him and he just wanted quiet. He was sure if Hayden's reluctance was the result of his aforementioned stupidity or evilness, but it was pissing him off either way. He opened one eye to glare at Hayden. "What?"

"You… revealed some stuff to me last night," Hayden hesitantly responded.

Instantly, the headache was the least of Shane's worries and all playful thoughts vanished. He felt another wave of nausea that he pushed down. Oh fuck, what did that mean? What did Shane reveal that made Hayden so nervous? Shane knew better than to get so inebriated when there was so much at stake. There was a reason Shane always kept himself so in control, and it was because he couldn't afford not to be. How could he be so stupid? He straightened up and stared directly at Hayden, desperate to see a hint on his face as to what he might have said. "What? What did I say?"

Hayden stared at Shane with his mouth ajar. Was he startled by Shane's reaction, or was it because of the absurdity of what Shane revealed last night? Shane could think of exactly one giant, earth-shatting secret that would warrant such a reaction, and he desperately hoped that he was wrong. Outing himself would be one thing, but he would never forgive himself if he outed Ilya as well. His mind was bombarded with thoughts of what could happen if he had revealed his relationship with Ilya. They could lose their careers, and that would be the least of their worries. Ilya could lose his work visa, he could be deported and arrested or worse. Shane would never see Ilya again and Ilya would never know just how deeply Shane's feelings ran. Shane would be relegated to the role of the person who ruined Ilya Rozanov's life. Shane wasn't sure he could survive that.

"Hayden, are you fucking with me? Please tell me I didn't say anything crazy. If I did, I probably didn't even mean it, okay? I was drunk, you can't take anything I said seriously, okay? But I didn't. Say anything crazy, I mean. Right?" Shane felt like he couldn't breathe. He begged the universe with every fiber of his being that he didn't reveal anything, even as he desperately attempted damage control.

After what felt like a lifetime but was probably mere seconds, Hayden finally responded. "No, you didn't say anything crazy," he smiled, "You just finally opened up about Rose Landry a little bit, said you weren't 'compatible.' Whatever that means."

The tension slowly started to ease out of Shane's body. That was so much better than he feared. It sounded like he unintentionally came out to Hayden, but luckily Hayden was too dense or too straight to pick up on the hidden meaning to Shane's words. Thank god his best friend was so oblivious. Maybe his idiocy was a good thing. "Really? That's it?"

Hayden hesitated for a moment, seemingly picking his words carefully, and Shane felt another spike of anxiety. "Well, we also discussed Lily a bit. And about how maybe you weren't compatible with her either."

Shane snorted and the ball of nerves uncoiled. He guessed he really had been so drunk he was speaking nonsense. At this point, Shane feared "Lily" was the only person on earth he was compatible with. Shane should have guessed that even inebriated, he would be so conscious of his secret that he would be trying to throw Hayden off his scent. "Well, clearly I didn't know what I was talking about. Why would I keep talking to Lily if we weren't compatible? Like I said, you should ignore everything I said last night. It was all nonsense." Sober, he realized there was nothing wrong with letting Hayden think he was attracted "Lily," someone Hayden had known about for years, but he was glad nonetheless he had managed to keep his secret so close to his chest. What he had with Ilya was sacred and he refused to let his own carelessness threaten it.

Much to Shane's relief, Hayden smiled back at him. "Totally!"

Shane was back to feeling like Hayden was evil after the emotional rollercoaster he just sent Shane on, but the relief was so intense he couldn't even really care.

Hayden clapped his hands on his knees before standing up. "Well, you should wash up. I'm gonna go find some greasy food. But don't worry, I'll find some bird food for you."

Shane groaned, the mention of food reminding him of the nausea still roiling in his stomach, both from the hangover and the unexpected anxiety. "Ugh, I can't even think about eating right now."

"You need to eat something. We're going to the gym in a few hours, remember?" Shane groaned even louder. Yup, Hayden was definitely evil. Shane had no idea how his teammates managed to attend practice hungover so frequently, and genuinely wondered for a moment if their poor decision-making was the result of CTE. Even standing felt like too much work, and Shane wasn't sure how he would make it to the gym.

Nevertheless, Shane pulled himself up a couple minutes after Hayden left. He brushed his teeth to get out the lingering taste of vomit and finished off the rest of the water bottle.

His hair was greasy and he cringed at the stale smell of sweat sticking to the clothes he now realized he wore to the club last night. Drunk people were disgusting. He desperately needed a shower, but he wondered to the bedside table to grab his phone first. His morning routine usually involved checking for any texts from Ilya, and his skin felt itchy with the knowledge he had disrupted his routine with his impromptu bathroom emergency. He knew he wouldn't feel settled until he checked for any messages from Ilya (which was a totally normal way to feel about your casual, on-again, off-again fuckbuddy of almost ten years, right?).

Shane winced when he saw two notifications from Lily. Based on the texts, he could already guess he had said something embarassing.

Lily: having fun without me?

Lily: are you ok?

He opened the messages and was proven correct.

Jane: i mjsh hsir sjxisjx ssjdhshhahajj

What the fuck had he even been trying to say? Shane wasn't sure if he was more relieved that whatever no doubt embarassing thing he was attempting to type turned out unintelligible, or more embarassed that he had been so plastered he couldn't even text correctly. He didn't need Ilya to know just how bad Shane was at holding his liquor. With their competitive natures, he had no doubt Ilya would hold this over him, always looking for a way to prove superiority. They both knew Ilya had more experience being drunk, but he didn't need Ilya to have such concrete proof of Shane's inability to handle alcohol.

He looked back at Ilya's response and rolled his eyes. He chose to interpret the texts as their typical chirping. That was what they did, and it's what he could handle. It was easiest to accept the tenuous relationship they found themselves in as an extension of what they had always done; he would not allow himself any delusions that the texts were born of genuine concern. He simply did not have the mental strength to allow himself to go down that road, especially not hungover.

Jane: Fuck off

Jane: How do you do this so often?

Jane: Why do you do this so often?

Jane: I'm never drinking again

Jane: I feel like my brain is going to pound out of my skull

Ilya responded only moments later.

Lily: russians do not get hungover

Lily: i understand why you do not usually drink

Lily: your weak canadian blood cannot handle alcohol

Lily: only ginger ale

Yup, there was the asshole Shane knew and loved tolerated.

Jane: Fuck you

Jane: There's nothing wrong with ginger ale

Jane: It's a good drink

It's not like he actually had to defend his choice of beverage. The last (and only) time Shane had been to Ilya's house, he had been stocked up with ginger ale. The visit had turned out disastrous, ruined by Shane's own insecurities, so he typically tried not to think about that night. But he still felt a flutter in his stomach when he remembered the casual way Ilya had prepared his home to allow Shane to seamlessly slot into his life. The innate sense of belonging Shane had felt that had become so overwhelming it sent him running.

Lily: no nothing wrong with it

Lily: perfect drink for you

Lily: boring drink for boring canadian

Shane blushed. He didn't know what was wrong with him that being called boring felt like intimate flirting, but he was the past the point of being able to do anything about it.

Shane set down his phone, knowing that if their texting continued, he would be tempted to start something he would be unable to finish before Hayden returned, and headed back to the bathroom so he could take a much needed shower.

Shane was showered and dressed by the time Hayden returned, finally feeling clean and like a functional human being. Hayden had brought him a kale smoothie and a breakfast sandwich with egg whites that fit into his diet, and Shane felt a surge of gratitude for his best friend. Shane loved his team, but he often felt like Hayden was the only one who cared to know Shane on any personal level. After a lifetime of struggling to find space for himself in other people's lives, the way Hayden had carved a space for Shane in his family, accommodating his quirks without complaint, was not something Shane took for granted.

As he sat in companionable silence with Hayden, reviewing hockey tapes and sipping on his smoothie, Shane returned to his common pondering of what might happen if he were to come out to Hayden.

Although homophobia was the default in the hockey world, Shane felt fairly certain Hayden would be supportive if Shane came out. At the very least he wouldn't hate him, and would stop trying to set him up with women. There was a niggling fear that Hayden would feel discomfort in the locker room and perhaps request they no longer room together, but that was rooted more in a general anxiety than any basis in Hayden's actions.

But Shane's real fears laid in the questions that would come with his coming out. Questions about if Shane was seeing anyone; his type; why he wasn't interested in dating; the identity of Boston Lily.

Questions that all led back to Ilya.

Any fantasies Shane allowed himself involving Ilya tended to lead to Shane catastrophizing. He didn't think Hayden would be malicious, but it wasn't like Hayden liked Ilya (or had any reason to—as much as Shane loved when Ilya was an asshole, he was aware that wasn't the general consensus). If Hayden let the secret slip to the wrong person, both Shane and Ilya could lose everything. The looming threat of Russia was a dark cloud over ever daydream Shane had about a future where people could know about the two of them.

So, Hayden couldn't know about Shane. Nobody could. It was isolating, but he never felt less alone than when he was with Ilya, and that made it all worth it. Shane was finally brave enough to admit that. Now that he had accepted what he wanted, he would do whatever he needed to keep it. Shane would take a lifetime of hiding for more stolen moments with Ilya.

Around two hours later, it was time for Shane and Hayden to go to the gym. They weren't meeting anyone so they could have easily rescheduled in light of their hangovers, but Shane appreciated that Hayden knew him well enough to know it would take far worse than a hangover to make Shane change his routine.

Shane went through his typical reps, finished up on a stationary bike. Even all these years later, his thoughts always went back to that night in the hotel gym, furiously racing against Rozanov, when a feeling ignited in him that he had never felt before. He had tried to convince himself it was nothing more than their rivalry, a drive to beat Rozanov in any way he could. But even then, he knew the heat simmering beneath his skin wasn't just from exertion.

The same heat that started to pool in his stomach when a text popped up from Lily.

Lily: what are you doing right now?

Shane rolled his eyes, even as his cheeks turned rosy. He had received texts exactly like that from Ilya dozens of times, and almost always with the same intention. He pretended the sweat running down his forehead and his increased heartrate was only from the rigorous workout, and not the thought of what that text could lead to.

Jane: Just finishing up at the gym

Jane: Had a set on an exercise bike

Jane: Fortunately there were no annoying Russians nearby trying to race me to death ;)

Jane: Although I could definitely beat you now

He wondered if Ilya also thought of Shane when he used an exercise bike. If he got the same feeling Shane got every time anything reminded him of Ilya (which these days, was everything); some combination of nerves and desire. Like butterflies on fire in his stomach.

On second thought, that was somewhat disturbing imagery. Hopefully Ilya had more pleasant analogies for the feelings Shane gave him.

Because there was no way Shane was the only one with these feelings, right?

Fuck, Shane needed to pull himself together. Who got sentimental and horny about exercise equipment?

Jane: Also I am still in public so don't even try to start something

Jane: If that's why you are asking

Shane pocketed his phone when he approached Hayden so they could head out. He had no faith that Ilya wouldn't attempt something, and he did not need to deal with getting a dick pic in front of Hayden yet again.

Shane was pleased when he managed to startle Hayden bad enough that he almost fell off his treadmill. Life was so much better when Shane was the one being evil and Hayden was the one suffering; with the amount of shit Shane had to take from Ilya, he needed a relationship where he got to be the asshole.

Hayden quickly stole that title back when he informed Shane of some truly questionable dance decisions had made while wasted the night before. Why did Shane surround himself with men who loved to watch him suffer? He supposed that was just the price of being a professional hockey player.

Shane's certainty of the evil of his fellow hockey players solidified when he opened his long muted team chat, which he checked no more than once a day, and was bombarded with some of the most horrific videos he had ever seen. They luckily weren't all of him, but one particular video of him (incorrectly) screaming the lyrics to Party in the USA did make him want to throw his phone into the ocean and become a monk.

And Ilya wasn't even responding to his texts.

The universe truly was hellbent on making him remember to never drink again.

He left his phone on the nightstand (since no ocean was readily available) when he traded places with Hayden to shower so he wouldn't have to face anymore potential reminders of the hazards of alcohol.

And maybe a little bit because he knew himself well enough to know any additional texts from Ilya while he was in the shower could lead to some further bad decisions.

He had never needed alcohol to make bad decisions with Ilya. Ilya was Shane's own personal vice, his only addiction.

And, unlike alcohol, Shane didn't think there were any consequences the universe could throw his way that would make him quit. Not even embarassing, drunken texts.

But Ilya sure seemed determined to test his limits.

Lily: we cannot do this anymore. I'm sorry

Shane's heart dropped to his stomach for just a moment when he read the notification from Ilya upon getting out of the shower.

It sounded like a breakup text—could you even be broken up with when you weren't anything official to begin with? That just seemed unfair—but Shane quickly soothed himself with the reminder that this was Ilya Rozanov he was talking too. A perpetual asshole and maybe the horniest person Shane knew, who loved to push all of Shane's buttons every chance he got. When Shane remembered his last text had been a preemptive rejection of any funny business, he realized this was just Ilya being an even bigger asshole than usual. Which was par for the course for the day Shane was having.

With the amount of assholery Shane already had to deal with from his teammates, Shane sometimes had to question his own sanity that he had somehow fallen in love with into bed with one of the most infamous assholes in the league.

Jane: Really? Because I won't sext you in public?

Jane: You can't possibly think that is going to work

Jane: You're such a child 🙄

Jane: How many times do I have to tell you that no amount of whining is going to change my mind?

Jane: You're lucky I know you're too horny to actually give up that easily, otherwise I would actually be pissed off

Jane: This is a pathetic attempt, even for you

Jane: If you can just be patient, I'll call you when I'm back in Montreal

Jane: I promise it will be worth the wait ;)

It was only hours later, after Shane made it back to the privacy of his Montreal apartment and allowed himself to check their message thread after receiving no response, that Shane realized the texts never went through.

And then everything began to come crumbling down.

Chapter End Notes

A bit of a more lighthearted chapter before we get back into the angst! Unfortunately, the next chapter is going to be rough... Lots of Shangst. I wanted to let him have some casual suffering before we get to the heavy stuff. I hope I did a good job with Shane's POV. I'm trying to make the characterization feel unique and character accurate each time I change POV, but it's hard to know if I am succeeding or if it all just sounds like me lol.

Sorry about the delay on getting this update out. It will happen again. My job is keeping me perpetually busy, but everyone's comments keep me coming back! So I promise I will not be abandoning this story (unless my job actually kills me...). The delay is also because I wrote another fic that kind of blew up and that took up a lot of my focus. Trust me, if I could make it my full time job to just focus on fanfic, I absolutely would. But alas.

Anyway, thank you so much to anyone who has commented on any of my fics, recommended my writing, messaged me on Tumblr, etc. I am really so obsessed with this fandom. I hope my stories bring even a fraction of the joy that this fandom brings me.

Love you!!!

Chapter 5

Chapter Summary

Shane deals with the fallout. AKA more shangst

Chapter Notes

Sorry for the delay, turns out the ao3 curse is real. The chapter got extra angsty because I've been extra angsty lol. And because I love to make my boy suffer. But hopefully you guys still enjoy!

Also everyone say thank you to my lovely beta genderenaissance because oof this would have been a lot rougher without them. They are amazing!!

Shane had gone through the five stages of grief since Ilya had ended things. As if he had a right to grieve something that had never been real to begin with (it had felt so real to him; he had thought it felt real to Ilya too).

one.

Denial had come without the realization he was even meant to be grieving. He had brushed off Ilya's text as a joke. Shane had always struggled to tell when someone was messing with him in good fun vs. with malice, and while he rarely had that issue in person with Ilya—somehow always able to read his taunts as the chirping and flirting they were—texts could be different. Without the warm look in Ilya's eyes, sometimes the tone of a text was lost on Shane. But ever since they had reunited in Tampa, since the spark they had been suppressing for years finally kindled into something more, everything between them had been light and fun. 

So he had assumed Ilya's text that they "couldn't do this anymore" following his refusal to sext was nothing more than lighthearted ribbing. Not particularly funny, and crueler in its humor than Ilya usually was with Shane, but nothing worth spiraling over. Shane had learned his lesson about overreacting after all these years of back-and-forth with Ilya. 

Except the real lesson Shane should have learned, apparently, was that he and Ilya could never, would never be anything. How many times had Ilya told him that they were nothing? How many times had Ilya reminded him they were a bad idea? How many times had Ilya ignored Shane when he got too intense? How many times had Ilya talked about other people he fucked and how much he loved it? Ilya had even explicitly said that they could never be anything more when Shane had confessed to him in Tampa. And Shane had naively ignored it all, like a lovesick idiot. 

That lesson only set in when Shane had returned to Montreal after a taxing flight from Dallas and realized that Ilya had never responded. Worse, Shane's texts had never delivered.

At first Shane had wondered if Ilya's phone had simply died. That's what he tried to tell himself when he went to sleep, but it didn't stop him from tossing and turning all night, desperately combatting the thoughts plaguing him that Ilya's text may not have been a joke. Still, when he woke up at his usual alarm, groggy after a restless night, he had eagerly checked his messages with a flicker of hope that there would be a response from Ilya. 

Nothing. 

He had tried calling just to see, but the call went straight to voicemail. And it finally hit Shane with sudden clarity that Ilya had actually ended things. And then blocked him.

two.

That's when the anger came. 

How the fuck could Ilya do this to him? After everything they had been through together, he ended it with a text? Didn't even offer a reason? And was so desperate for the last word he didn't even give Shane a chance to respond?

The constant push-and-pull between them, the running away and crashing back into each other was par for the course. Ilya cutting Shane off was precedented. But to completely shut down any means of communication, without explanation? As if Shane didn't deserve one? After Shane had finally been vulnerable and confessed his feelings? Shane had surmounted the shame that ruled his life just for a chance with Ilya. He had accepted his deepest secret, the one he had denied for so long out of self-preservation, because he decided Ilya was worth the risk. He was going to invite Ilya to his cottage! His safe haven! He was finally going to plan a future with Ilya that involved more than secret hookups. He had carved open his chest and served his heart on a silver platter, and Ilya had discarded it like it was nothing. 

Who the fuck did Ilya think he was? He had no right to treat Shane like that. It was selfish and immature and cruel. 

Shane was restless in his anger. In practice, he checked his own teammates harder than he would normally check his opponents. He found himself almost wishing someone would push back. He wanted to fight. He wanted to throw his gloves and bloody his fists and leave the tumultuous feelings consuming him all out on the ice. He wanted to hurt somebody the way Ilya had hurt him. 

Because Ilya had hurt him in a way he had never been hurt before. As a hockey player, he was used to cruelty, but he had spent years building up an armor, guarding himself from any potential hurt. But he had peeled away his armor for Ilya. He was furious at Ilya for taking advantage of his vulnerability, and he was even more furious at himself for being vulnerable. But he had no outlet and no answers. All he could do was stew in his anger and wonder why. What could have possibly done to deserve this?

It just didn't make sense. After a decade knowing Ilya, learning about him inside and out, connecting with him in a way he had never connected with anyone before, Shane thought he knew Ilya better than that. The Ilya he knew would never be so cruel, at least not to Shane. The Ilya who cried into Shane's chest at a hotel room in Tampa could not be the same Ilya who would shut down their finally blossoming relationship with a single text. 

three.

So maybe Shane was wrong. Maybe this was all a misunderstanding. Surely if Shane could just talk to Ilya, they could figure this out. After everything they had been through, every obstacle they had overcome, every time they had attempted to end things only to fall back into each other's arms, this couldn't be the end. Right? Shane forgave Ilya when he ghosted him for six months. And Ilya forgave Shane when he ran away and entered a relationship with a movie star in a final desperate attempt at heterosexuality. When things got too real, one of them would go running, but there was a magnetic force between them that always brought them back together. This had to just be Ilya feeling overwhelmed after their emotional breakthrough in Tampa. A delayed reaction, but something Shane should have anticipated. Shane just had to find a way for them to work through this. 

So came the bargaining.

Shane tried to brainstorm ways to get in contact with Ilya. He felt so certain that, if they could talk, Ilya would explain that he had never meant to break Shane's heart. Maybe Ilya had been feeling too emotionally vulnerable and this was a last ditch effort to protect himself—Shane certainly couldn't fault him for that. Or maybe the text really had been a joke, and Shane was being oversensitive and getting worked up over nothing. Maybe Ilya had blocked Shane on accident. Maybe Ilya was spiraling the exact same way Shane was, confused and heartbroken at the lack of messages. That was possible, right? It seemed at least equally likely to Ilya so carelessly stomping on Shane's heart. 

Shane considered trying to reach out to Ilya on social media, in case there was an issue with his phone, but his manager (aka his mom) had access to all of his accounts, and that was a can of worms he did not want to open. Not to mention that even if there was a problem with Ilya's phone, he should have bought a new one by now. Shane also couldn't reach out to anyone in Ilya's life, because nobody knew Shane was anything other than Ilya's rival. He couldn't fly to Boston and knock on Ilya's door (although he came closer to breaking and booking a flight than he would like to admit) because that came with the risk of being spotted. No matter how much Ilya had hurt him, he would never out him, especially knowing the dangers that could present with the looming threat of Russia. 

In an eventual fit of desperation, Shane bought a burner phone. Maybe Ilya had blocked him on accident. Or maybe Ilya would realize he had been rash if Shane just got a chance to plead his case. Remind him everything they had been through. Three nights after Ilya had broken things off, Shane was sending Ilya texts with a cheap flip phone, feeling ridiculous typing on the too small keypad. 

Unknown: This is Jane. Please call me. 

Unknown: I deserve answers.

And an hour later.

Unknown: Please, just tell me what I did wrong. 

Unknown: I can fix it. You just have to give me a chance.

And then at 2am, after hours staring at the screen and praying for a response, he caved and texted again. 

Unknown: Please

Unknown: I love you

four.

Shane had cried himself to sleep after that, knowing that he wouldn't be getting a response. If Ilya wanted to talk to Shane, he would have already. If he had broken his phone, he would have bought a new one by now; even if he had a new number, he would still have Shane’s number. And if he had actually blocked Shane, accidentally or not, he would have been able to respond to these texts if he wanted to. And it wasn’t like something had happened to Ilya; he hadn’t missed a single game since breaking up with Shane. 

The ball was in Ilya’s court, but Ilya no longer wanted to play. 

The fact was Shane had finally been able to admit that he was in love with Ilya Rozanov, and it was too late. 

Or maybe too late was the wrong phrase, because that implied it would have made a difference if he had accepted the truth sooner. But maybe the truth was that there was no universe where they ended up with a happily ever after. Just like Ilya had tried to warn him. Really, this was Shane's fault. No matter how many times Ilya spelled it out, Shane just wouldn't accept Ilya's insistence that they would never work. Ilya had no choice but to be as blunt as possible for Shane to finally get the message. He must have been so exhausted of always having to try to push Shane away, and blocking Shane was a final mercy to protect him from humiliating himself by trying to beg (so much for that). 

Shane gave up after that. What else could he do? The only other person on earth who knew about the two of them was Ilya, and he had completely iced him out. There wasn't even anyone that Shane could go to for comfort or advice. 

He had always been so wary about giving his heart to Ilya, so afraid of the fallout. He was always thinking about how his career would be affected, his reputation, his legacy; or how everything could go wrong for Ilya: deportation, criminalization, imprisonment. He had been so consumed by those concerns, he hadn't even considered how emotionally vulnerable he was making himself. At some point, he had deluded himself so thoroughly into believing that the feelings were mutual that he had been unprepared for the possibility of Ilya being the one to shatter his heart. He had been riding the high of loving Ilya, but had forgotten to brace for the fall. 

So, as much as it pained Shane to admit, he found himself depressed, which was about the time he finally noticed his emotional fallout was following the stages of grief. If he could have found humor in anything, he would have laughed at his dramatics. Instead, it just left him more hollowed out. He couldn't believe how pathetic he was. He shouldn’t have been so thrown. His whole life, he had struggled to connect with people. Kids in school thought he was weird, his teammates thought he was intense. The only people who ever seemed to truly care about him were the people who benefited from his hockey skills; even his parents he often felt saw his worth directly connected to his talent. Beyond that, what did he have to offer? Sure, the sex with Ilya was mindblowing, and he didn’t doubt Ilya enjoyed it too, but Ilya could–and did–get that anywhere. He didn’t need Shane for that. 

The past few weeks, they had been texted like friends, like maybe something more, and Shane should have known that was a mistake. He wasn’t someone people enjoyed talking to. Ilya must have been so annoyed. And then Shane got so clingy that he was drunk texting Ilya? Jesus Christ, it was a miracle Ilya put up with Shane as long as he did. Ilya was wise to run. 

That realization made everything all the more painful. This wasn't the first time that Ilya had hurt Shane, but this was the first time he was genuinely heartbroken. This was the first time Shane's heart was broken, period. He had never felt so alone. He had never felt so devoid of joy. He went through his days feeling like the world was muted. The voices of his teammates were static. Everything looked grey. He felt like there was nothing left for him. 

Because that was the horrible truth. Ilya hadn't just ruined Shane for everyone—because Shane knew he would never feel about anyone else the way he felt about Ilya—he had ruined Shane for everything. 

Shane felt like there was nothing in his life that didn't bring stabbing pain with it, because everything was so connected to Ilya. Hockey was his life for as long as he could remember, it was what had always given him meaning, but now even that was ruined. Watching hockey, playing hockey, talking about hockey. It all just made him think about Ilya. About the way Ilya would chirp him in a face off. About the exhilaration every time he got to play against Ilya, the only person at his level. About the shameful warmth he felt in his gut when Ilya checked him against a board. About the competitive energy that burned bright between them, always pushing them to be the best. Hockey was the reason Shane had Ilya. But somewhere, along the way, Ilya had become Shane's reason for hockey. Ilya had become a constant presence in him, he ignited the spark that kept him going and pushing, forever striving to be the best. He always assumed one day it would burn too bright, collapsing like a dying star in a spectacular fashion. He didn’t think Ilya would simply snuff the flame. But now that the fire inside him had extinguished, the ice just felt cold. For the first time, hockey became something Shane dreaded. 

For so long, everything Shane did was for hockey. The strict diet he followed, the rigorous workout routine he kept up with religiously, the books he read, the tapes he watched. Everything was for hockey. Which, somehow, at some point, without Shane's consent, meant that everything was for Ilya. So now there was nothing left.

Even the people in Shane's life were a reminder of what he lost. He felt like he couldn't talk to his parents without thinking about the way he had been lying to them for years, a fundamental part of himself he had hidden, protecting something that was doomed from the start. Rose was a reminder that Ilya was it for Shane; he had managed to find a woman who was beautiful and loved hockey and thought he was funny and was genuinely a joy to spend time with, and he still went crawling back to Ilya. His teammates were a reminder of the culture that had made his love something shameful, something impossible. Everywhere he turned, Ilya's absence was glaring. 

Fortunately (or maybe unfortunately), nobody seemed to have noticed just how deeply Shane was spiraling, so nobody bothered to pry. Everyone assumed Shane was simply being overly intense in the way he so often was in the lead up to the playoffs. He played with the single-minded intensity he always did. He still scored goals. What did it matter he no longer celebrated? What did it matter he was silent in the locker room? As long as Shane kept his stats up, there was no reason for concern.  

The only person who seemed to be viewing newfound melancholy as an issue that needed addressing was Hayden. Or at least, Shane assumed that was what was happening. Hayden was constantly inviting Shane out, nearly daily, despite learning years ago that was typically futile. Perhaps Shane's outing at the bar had given him a false sense of hope that such outings would become a regular occurrence. Maybe Hayden would have been right, if that hadn’t preceded one of the worst moments of his life. Hayden's insistence grated on him more than usual, but he knew it wasn’t his fault, so he tried to be polite in his rejections and mostly just tuned Hayden out. 

five.

But Shane, eventually, had to pull himself together, the way he always did. Because he was Shane fucking Hollander. He was a captain and he had a team that was counting on him. He was the pride of an entire city. Shane had played through countless injuries; he could play through a broken heart. He just had to keep pushing until the season ended, and he could hide away for the summer and lick his wounds and try not to focus on the future he had lost before it even started.

So now, just over a week after Ilya had ended things so abruptly, Shane had sped through the five stages of grief for a relationship that never was, finally settling on acceptance. Or at least, that's what he was telling himself. He had no choice but to accept what had happened, because Montreal was playing Boston the next day. Shane would have to face Ilya on the ice, and the only option was to pretend he was fine. Even if he felt like he had nothing, he could at least cling on to his dignity. He would not let Ilya see that he was broken. If not for his own pride, then to spare Ilya the guilt. He didn’t think he would be able to endure Ilya realizing the massive imbalance in their feelings. He could think of nothing worse than Ilya looking at him with pity. 

In his quest to prove just how fine he was, he finally accepted one of Hayden's invites. He told Hayden he wasn't up to going out but agreed to hang out. Hayden just seemed relieved to have a normal human interaction with Shane, and invited him to his house while Jackie and the kids were away for the weekend. As much as Shane loved Jackie, he was relieved. He wasn't sure he could handle seeing the happy couple together; the reminder of what Shane would never have. Not to mention the screaming children that might actually crack his sanity. 

Hayden had originally suggested they could review tape of someone of Boston's games to prep for the upcoming game, and had seemed (rightfully) shocked when Shane suggested they just put on a movie instead. He really didn't need to collapse into tears on Hayden's couch while watching Ilya play. He had kept their secret this long; what a joke it would be if he accidentally revealed everything after it was already over. 

Shane sat silently for most of the movie. He honestly wasn't sure what they were even watching. Hayden gave a constant stream of commentary, and Shane chuckled when it seemed appropriate, even if he didn’t really register what was being said. Everything was on autopilot. 

But that was fine. Shane didn’t need to enjoy the movie. Or enjoy his friend’s presence. Or enjoy anything. He just had to act normal. He just had to act fine, because he was fine. Really.

Minutes before the movie came to an end, somebody rang the doorbell. Hayden flinched but Shane stayed frozen, unbothered. Hayden made a comment about it probably being a delivery and got up to check, while Shane stayed seated, staring blankly at the screen. Anything else felt like too much effort. 

Shane kicked into gear, though, when he heard Hayden loudly shout, "What the f-"

Shane jumped off the couch and turned to the front door so quickly he almost lost his balance, immediately alarmed. 

He steadied himself and looked over just in time to see an impossible sight. 

Ilya Rozanov was at Hayden’s front door. 

And he was punching Hayden in the face. 

What the fuck?

Chapter End Notes

All of the comments about wanting Hayden to get punched always made me laugh because that was the plan from the beginning haha. Comment any predictions on how Ilya ended up at Hayden's doorstep! Next chapter is his POV of the past week and all will be revealed. No idea when I will get the next chapter up bc my work and personal life are trying to take me out but I promise it will come eventually! And all of you lovely commenters always keep me motivated <3