Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Rose Landry & Svetlana Vetrova, David Hollander/Yuna Hollander, Hayden Pike/Jackie Pike

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, David Hollander, Yuna Hollander, Rose Landry, Svetlana Vetrova, Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau, Hayden Pike, Various Ottawa Players

Additional Tags:

Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Marriage Proposal, Ilya Rozanov Needs A Hug, marriage proposal gone wrong, ilya rozanov trauma, Candles, lilies, Moonlight, Texting, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, Debbie The Lamp

Language:

English

Series:

Part 5 of Lovely Lights

Stats:

Published: 2026-06-22 Updated: 2026-07-06 Words: 4,863 Chapters: 4/?

Bioluminescence

Summary

Shane proposes, Ilya panics and doesn't say yes. Somehow, they still end up standing at the alter on their wedding day. Will be explicit in later chapters!

Notes

This is the next multi-chapter fic for Lovely Lights! As a reminder, Hayden didn't out Hollanov, they came out on their own. Don't worry, this ends with our boys married and happy but as usual for me, there's some bumps on the way. Boys got trauma and when theirs gets tired I project my own.

Chapter 1: Baby Don't Ask Me

Ilya was positive from a very young age he would never get married.

He saw the toll marriage took on his mother, saw the inconvenience it was for his father. Decided it wasn’t worth it.

Then he grew up a little. He loved sex, he loved meeting people, he loved charming the literal pants off lovers, but he didn’t think actual romance was in the cards for him. No woman was satisfying enough to be long term and no man was worth the trouble it would get him in.

And would be crazy enough to want to marry him anyway?

Then he met Shane Hollander and knew he needed to know that man carnally.

Then skip some “crazy lore” as the Centaurs rookies call it, and he and Shane became boyfriends and he allowed the occasional thought of “it might be okay, might even be wonderful, to have him forever” to slip in.

But when the plane nearly crashed he thought “right, of course, I don’t get to marry him” and that was that. Even after he landed safely and dealt with his prematurely grieving boyfriend, he figured it was a warning. A cautious sign that he was getting too close to the fire, playing it too risky with his heart, dreaming of a life he wasn’t designed for.

So he pushed the idea away.

It seems silly now, as he stands in their shared foyer with his bags from a trip to see Svetlana in Boston and takes in the decor. Shane clearly, had not pushed the idea away.

He knows what this is immediately.

“Shane, is not funny! I do not like this interior design choice! We give haunted house vibes, or crypt.”

The path of flower petals, not roses but he isn’t sure what the pink petals are, lead deeper into the cottage. There’s fake candles flickering from every available surface, the stairs, the shelves, lining the floor. It’s downright cinematic and so, painfully romantic with its intentions. He thinks he might throw up from excitement and nerves.

He drops his bags, hastily throws his shoes and coat to the floor, and takes a large steadying breath. He whips out his phone to his group chat with Rose and Sveta and simply types “you fuckers knew, didnt you?????” before heading in.

There’s no lights anywhere else in the house except for the little plastic candles. The trail, edges marked by delicate cream tea lights, guide him to the back deck, where he stops. He sees, down on the dock, Shane pacing back and forth, hand flying animatedly as he talks to himself. The words don’t carry up to him, but he can tell Shane is panicked, and his heartbeat triples in speed.

He feels underdressed. He’s wearing travel clothes, joggers and a hoodie. He’s not showered properly since this morning and his mouth is dry from airplane air. His hair is probably flat from how it was smooshed against the side of the plane while he napped.

Shane looks radiant in the dusky orange light.

He’s wearing nice pants and a button up, Ilya can tell from here, but his hair is clearly disheveled from where he’s been anxiously running his hands through it.

He doesn’t fucking deserve this.

“Shane?” He calls, voice cracking and failing to reach his boyfriend.

He steps carefully off the deck, still staying on the petal path, until he’s at the edge of the dock. Shane has noticed him crossing the lawn and stares at Ilya like one of them is about to murder the other. Ilya’s eyes drink in the scene, which is lathered so heavily in love and romance his heart feels like it’s been checked into the boards.

Cream tapered candles line the dock from inside glass globes and refract off the water, softly flickering and casting the whole space in a nebulous glimmer that makes him feel dizzy with comfort. The old wood creaks softly as the water laps against the bottom, the peep frogs sing so sweetly and loons call so tenderly, it feels like they are in a romance novel. The entire world is bending for this moment, time itself has paused so Ilya Rozanov can experience pure, unrestrained love from another person.

“Ilya.” Shane greets, voice soft and so very loving.

“Hi.” He is speechless. He has literally no words in any language to fill this space. To begin to explain the noise in his chest.

“How was your flight? Sorry I didn’t call you, I was busy.”

The absolute audacity of Shane to make small talk like they aren’t standing in the middle of the most romantic set up Ilya has ever seen.

“Fine, no turbulence.”

“That’s how we like it.” Shane says, a hint of strain to his voice.

“What is all this, moy lyubimyy?”

“We have known each other for our entire careers. I have loved you for almost my entire career too. I love you, Ilya. Maybe since Tampa, maybe since the CMM shoot, maybe since I shook your hand twice outside the arena in 2008. And I… I want to love you for the rest of our lives too.”

He watches, in a cocktail of horror and fascination and overwhelming elation, as Shane gets down on one knee.

Shane thrusts forward a ring box. He opens it to reveal a gold band inset with a row of tiny little diamonds. Ilya aches to reach out and touch it, to have tangible proof that this moment is happening.

“Ilya Rozanov, will you marry me?”

And Ilya knows, deep down, he was born to yes. There was never a world where he would look at Shane Hollander down on one knee and say no.

So that’s what makes the next several moments of his life so complexing.

“Shane, I… I need to go.”

And then he races back up the pink petal path, tea lights rolling in the grass, and locks himself into the spare bedroom, hyperventilating.

Chapter 2: Baby It's A Let Down

Chapter Summary

Ilya ignores some messages and lets the negative thoughts win

Chapter Notes

See y'all tomorrow with a Shane POV!

He sits on the floor on the opposite side of the spare bed, so he can’t see the door. He stares at the beige carpet where the moonlight illuminates it and wonders if he could shrink down small enough to get lost in it.

His mind is both blank, and running through a million spiralling thoughts all at once. 

His phone has been buzzing in his pocket nonstop since he hid here. Rose, Sveta, fucking Hayden, and most devastingly, David. He reads each message without responding, feeling detached and away from his body.

 

9:43pm, From: Rose🌹

You okay?

Shane’s freaked, saying you left?

Svetlana is going to call you, plz answer if you can

 

9:46pm, 3 missed calls From: Sveta🦊

9:48pm, From: Sveta🦊

Ilya Rozanov pick up now

wtf babe????

Ilya you left????

you love him you literally worship the ice he skates on

you moved to fucking ottawa for him dont tell me you are shy now

Are you ok? Call me. Soon.

 

9:55pm, From: Best Metro🧋

dude wtf

this qualifies as a reason I can murder u btw

u ok??

 

10pm, 7 missed calls From: Sveta🦊

 

10:16pm, From: David🧩

It’s okay son. It’s scary, I get it. Take time. What matters is that you are safe. Shane will be alright. Text me or someone when you can, but take time to cool down.

 

His brain locks onto something small, something he can manage to think about and understand, so he turns to Google to try to determine what flower Shane had spread throughout the cottage. Turns out to be fucking lilies. Stargazer lilies, if the white edges he recalls are accurate. God he loves Shane.

With that mystery over he turns his phone fully off as Sveta calls again. He slides it across the floor away from him and buries his head in his hands.

He tries to remember all the stupid grounding techniques Shane’s learned, tries to remember bad things don’t always happen to him, tries to remember he deserves to be happy, tries to figure out his next move.

He tries to figure out why he left the love of his life kneeling on the dock with a ring instead of saying yes.

Why did he do that? He wanted to say yes. There was nothing in the world Ilya wanted more than to be able to have Shane in a public and permanent way. Wanted to be legally bound to the man, wanted to have and hold him for the rest of their lives, wanted to wake up every single day and see that ring and know he belonged to Shane, wanted to be able to say, “this is Shane, my husband”, wanted to tie their legacies together in history, and wanted get to know that when they died their bodies would be side by side in the dirt with one fucking headstone.

So why didn’t he say yes?

It would have been so easy to reach out and slip on the ring. So easy to let Shane kiss him and smile and then go inside and have really fucking good sex. So easy, and yet seemingly impossible.

The answer was simple, really. He was terrified.

Not about what the league might say or about fan approval. Not about never being able to return to Russia. No, he was terrified that saying yes would ruin the best thing to ever happen to him.

And if he lost Shane, he lost his reason to live.

Ilya isn’t crafted for good things. He’s known this his whole life. He spoils everything he touches, tarnishes people’s lives until they either despise him or die, sometimes they hate him up until they die.

He just wasn’t built to hold love.

His time with Shane, from the moment they first shook hands in Saskatchewan, has been doomed. That’s why he spent so many years keeping it strictly physical. You can’t fuck up someone’s life when there’s no emotion involved. 

But he’s greedy and wanted more.

Then Shane had gotten hurt, had invited him to the cottage, and even though Ilya knew it had to end, knew he needed to leave and cut ties before this exploded in their faces, he went to the cottage.

And then he said those three little words.

And Shane said them back.

And everything was so, so good.

Then the plane went down and Shane smashed a million light fixtures and ruined poor Debbie and Ilya stayed. Ilya stayed and stayed through every instance where he should’ve ducked out and ended the scene.

Shane and him came out, they joined the Centaurs together, everything has been so good.

And good things don’t last for Ilya.

So he can’t have this too. Can’t allow himself to get even more tangled and ensnared by Shane Hollander because someday some other metaphorical plane will go down and it will detonate their happy little world like an atom bomb. Something always happens. Something always gets in the way.

Ilya Rozanov does not get a happy ending.

So no, he can’t marry Shane. No matter how desperately he wants to, no matter how much it will kill him to pack up his shit and leave Shane devastated in this house alone. It would be kinder to end things now.

Even if he really wishes he could stay.

Ilya curses and slumps over, laying in the fetal position on the carpet, moonlight in his eyes, and cries. He bawls like a little baby because he is breaking his own heart and knows he will have to leave this room and shatter Shane’s too.

Shane who wants to marry him.

Shane who hasn’t knocked on the door.

The ache in his chest is so severe he wonders if he’s having a cardiac event. He clutches at his hoodie, gasping for air, and sobs into the boring carpet.

He knows what he should do, he just doesn’t know how he’s going to do it. It might just kill them both.

Chapter 3: Baby We're Going Down Swinging

Chapter Summary

They talk!

Chapter Notes

My area is going through some storms right now so updates are a bit delayed! Will hopefully get back on track shortly!

Shane packs up each little tea light. He snuffs the dock candles. He sweeps up the lily petals.

He texts everyone who had been expecting an engagement announcement.

He turns off his phone.

Shane sits on the living room couch and stares at the space where Deb sits. She and Ira are the only lights on in the room. Briefly, he considers smashing them too. Just to feel something other than embarrassment and anger and confusion and rejection and and and and…

What did he do wrong?

Was it the lilies?

Was it the fake candles indoors?

Was his speech too short? Too forward?

Did Ilya just not feel the same?

He’d thought they’d been building a future, hurtling towards this proposal together and both simply too nervous to ever bring it up to the other in any sort of non-joke way.

Clearly he was mistaken.

Ilya had taken one look at him down on his knee and fled. He’d literally sprinted up into the cottage so fast that Shane was still kneeling when the porch door closed.

He knows Ilya is still in the cottage, his keys and shoes are still by the door, but he isn’t sure if he should go confront him on this or let Ilya come to him.

He just wishes he knew what he did wrong.

He’d been researching perfect proposals for months, spent forever tweaking the design of the ring, had exchanged countless messages with Rose and Sevtlana about what he should wear and how to decorate the cottage. He had been so confident that he got everything right.

Shane flicks the little knob on Deb to turn her off. He sighs and leans back, his head thunking against the wood of Ira’s end table as he misjudges how much space he has behind him on the couch.

Tears spring up, and he’s only half confident he can blame the pain of hitting his head.

He thought tonight would end with tears, he just hadn’t expected this sort.

The past several hours have passed with him wondering if he should give Ilya space, or go find him and demand a proper answer. A true explanation. Turns out, Ilya will bring the decision to him.

There’s a thumping on the stairs, then a loud sniffle, followed by several quiet Russian curses.

“Ilya?” He calls, heart thumping wildly.

All sounds from the stairs stop, then, “Shane?” Ilya comes around the corner, eyes widening when he sees Shane on the couch, then scrubs his hands over his face. The heels press into his eyes as he stands there and says nothing further.

“Are you okay?”

Ilya, maybe without meaning to, shakes his head just a minute little bit. “Can we talk?”

“Of course.”

Shane expects Ilya to cross the room, maybe even sit down next to him on the couch, but instead Ilya takes in a large breath, and from the bottom of the stairs opens his mouth to speak.

But no sound comes out.

He opens and closes his mouth repeatedly, words forming, but not a single sound leaves his lips. Tears form in the corners of his eyes and he wipes them before they can fully fall.

“Ilya, baby, come here.” Shane pats the couch. “I’m not mad at you, I just want to know why.”

“Shane.” He falls onto the couch in a hurry, burrowing his face into Shane’s chest, tears soaking Shane’s shirt almost immediately. “I am sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s alright. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No, but I have to. I do not want to.”

Shane cocks his head, trying to decipher that. It hits him all at once.

Oh. His poor, sweet, depressed boyfriend.

He takes control of the situation before Ilya can speak again, heart thumping harder than it did on the dock earlier. “Svetlana loves you.”

Ilya freezes but doesn't say anything. Shane runs a slow hand through Ilya’s hair, playing with the curls and picking out tangles.

“My parents love you, the guys on the team love you, Cliff loves you, Jackie and the kids love you, Rose loves you. Are you going to run away from all of them too? Are you going to push everyone who loves you away just because you don’t think they should?”

Ilya grumbles into Shane’s shirt, a hand coming up to take a fistful of it as he clutches onto him. He plants his face between Shane’s torso and the couch cushion.

“You deserve good things. Your past does not define your future.”

There’s peace for a moment, both their heart rates settling, their breathing slowing, their tears drying. Shane keeps one hand loose on Ilya’s back and the other scrubbing at the curls at the nap of Ilya’s neck.

“I ruin them. I always ruin the good things.” It’s said so softly and so sadly, it’s as if Ilya can’t see them as anything other than one hundred percent true.

Shane’s heart drops a thousand stories and shatters on the pavement. “You don’t, baby. Bad things happen to you, but they aren’t your fault. Your mum dying, that was a bad thing, but it wasn’t your fault at all. Your dad and brother, not able to love you for the amazing person you are? Not your fault either.”

“And you?”

“Nothing’s ruined with me.” Shane says, burrowing his nose into soft hair that smells like green apple. “You just need time, that’s alright.”

Neither speak again, the occasional hitch in his breath the only sign that he’s not asleep. Shane looks down at the top of Ilya’s head, admires the way Ira’s rainbow colors wash over the golden curls and make them look bronze. He wishes Ilya could accept that people love him, wishes his childhood had been kinder, wishes he hadn’t lost his mother, wishes his family had shown him love wasn’t something you had to earn but inherently deserved. He wished love had been shone down onto Ilya the way Shane’s parents had shone it onto him.

Ilya lifts his head slowly, giving Shane time to sit up, his watery eyes shining as he looks up at Shane. His blue eyes look incandescent in the lamp light, reflecting with all the light of a million little rainbows.

“I am sorry. I was scared. I am scared.”

“That’s okay.”

“I am afraid you will go away. Something will happen. Some accident or plane crash or you will not love me anymore.”

“Well, I can’t promise that I won’t get hurt, or that I will always be safe, but I can promise I will always try to come back to you. I will always love you. I think I’ve loved you since the first time we fucked. Maybe the first time we kissed. Maybe before we even met, and I was Googling all your stats and translating the Russian so I could know as much about your play style as possible. I memorized all the ways you handled your stick.”

A smile plays on the edges of Ilya’s face and he visibly perks up. “You did what? Why didn’t I know this? Is that how you knew what I looked like outside the rink before our game?”

Shane physically feels his face warm so he knows he’s blushing even as he averts his eyes. “No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm. Tell me, at what point did you start to fantasize about my dick over my stick?”

“Fuck off!” Shane laughs, pushing a hand against Ilya’s cheek. The wetness of not-yet-dried tears brings the somberness back into the room. “Since that night after the draft. In the gym.”

Ilya smirks, then sinks his head back onto Shane’s chest. He faces out this time, so Shane knows the conversation will continue.

“It’s okay, if you don’t want to get married.”

“I want to marry you. Of course I want to. Are you insane?”

“Oh.” This is news to Shane. Several events tonight have made it seem as if Ilya did not want to get married.

“I was going to leave. Break your heart, run away scared, and hide forever.”

“Oh.” This is not the turn he anticipated this conversation taking.

“But I do not want to do that. I do not want to break up. I do not want to ruin what we have on purpose. I am more afraid to lose you than to marry you, I think.”

“Have you talked to Galina about this?” It’s a totally out of place thought, something he should say tomorrow over breakfast or lunch when they’ve both settled down, not right now when they’re both so emotionally worked up, but he’s curious and it’s a valid question.

“Yes. She says I have anxious attachment.”

“Ah.” He only knows what that is because Rose had once gotten into a huge rabbit hole of trying to identify which of her friends fell into which of the four types.

“But she says I cannot let that stop me from marrying you. That I should keep working on it with her but shouldn’t let it control my life either.”

Sometimes, Shane thinks he’s really quite grateful for Galina.

“Okay, so what do you want to do now?” Shane yawns, tired from the late hour and the high-strung emotions of the night.

Ilya hums sleepily. “Can we try again?”

“You want me to propose again? Right now or?”

“No, another time. When it is surprise again. Very romantic that way. Something good to tell everyone.”

He laughs despite himself. “Everyone already knows it went poorly tonight.”

“Then something good to tell the children and team.”

He chooses to ignore the line about children for now because the only thing that comes to mind is snarky. “Alright, we’ll do it again for the team.”

“Yes, I think they would appreciate a good proposal. We should film it. Oh god, Shane, tell me you did not film this one.” He says the last sentence in pure horror, a whisper of humor still there.

“No, I didn’t, thank god.” Shane is glad Ilya isn’t looking as he struggles to hide his smile at the thought.

“Good. We try again another time then. Then you will say yes.” Ilya says, barely awake.

Giving up trying to keep his own eyes open, Shane smiles and hums. “Sure, whatever you say.”

 

Chapter 4: Baby It Takes A Team

It’s been four months and neither have broached the subject again. Ilya isn’t even sure where Shane hid the ring and has been too afraid to go looking for it.

They’ve just played their first game of the season when Hayes comes swinging out of the showers, clapping Ilya on the shoulder as he passes.

“You see that left winger kept checking Hollander out? You gotta lock him down man or people might try to make a pass.” It’s said with a bright grin and big laugh.

They hadn’t told anyone on the team about the failed proposal, and it hadn’t really even occurred to Ilya that it would be a problem until this very second.

“Ha, everyone knows Hollander is mine. Very big deal to MHL, yes?” Ilya forces out, pasting on a quick flash of a smile. He wonders if Shane can hear from the showers.

“Yeah, but imagine the headlines for your wedding! You’d be like… hockey’s royal wedding.” Dykstra calls out as he tugs on a shirt.

“The Taylor and Travis.” Haas adds. “All secretive but everyone wants to go.”

“You better let us know in advance so I can get the best suit.” Bood shouts. “I gotta be the sharpest dressed in pics.”

“Oh fuck off!” Hayes groans. “Not a shot in hell you’ll dress better than Rozy on his big day. You just better hope you get to be a groomsman.”

And then the room erupts into debate on who would make a better best man, Bood claiming it would be him because he can deal with catering, while Barrett argues it should be him because he’s known Ilya was bi the longest.

“What are we shouting about?” Shane asks, slipping a hand around Ilya’s waist for just a second, fingers brushing lightly over his stomach. “I thought I heard someone say something about cake?”

“Ah, they are, uh…” Ilya clears his throat, trying to catch anyone’s eye to get them to change the subject quickly. No luck. “They are talking about who gets to be my best man at our wedding.”

“Not mine?” Shane raises an eyebrow, a trait he’s picked up from Ilya.

“No, nobody cares to be boring Shane Hollander’s best man.” He says it loud enough to catch the attention of the room.

Haas immediately sits upright in his cubby, slamming his head off the shelf above it. “I would be so down to be your best man!”

“‘So down’ he says, as if that’s proof of his abilities talking to planners.” Chouinard chirps. “It should obviously go to whoever of us has been married the longest.”

“No way! I got married more recently so I know all the good business still around here.” Hayes argues.

“Enough! You all whine like little babies. If this becomes relevant you can all fight about it then. Right now, how about we all go fucking home for the night, yes?” Ilya shouts over the group of men.

The team seems to let the subject drop after that, but he’s pretty sure he can still hear whispers from some of the further away cubbies.

Shane smiles up at him, sweetly. “You didn’t have to do that. They were having fun.”

“They were getting on my nerves.”

Shane’s smile dips on the edges, eyes bouncing around the locker room to see if anyone is watching them. “Oh.”

“Why talk about something that isn’t even happening?”

Fuck, that was the wrong thing to say. He can see it instantly, in the way Shane turns slightly away, maybe just shifting back to his own cubby to pack up his bag to the untrained ‘Shane Hollander Behavior Expert’ eye, but to Ilya, creating distance between them to hide his hurt. Shane stuffs his extra clothes into his bag carelessly, not folding them in the slightest. 

“Shane, I-”

He hoists his bag over his shoulder and mumbles, “I’ll wait for you in the car.”

Shane leaves the locker room, and immediately eleven pairs of eyes shift to him. All conversation and motion has come to a halt.

“What?” He asks, pulling on shorts as if this is a totally normal end of practice.

“Dude, Hollander left without you. What did you do?” Dykstra asks, eyes wide.

He rolls his eyes, digging around his bag for a hoodie. Turned down his marriage proposal, no biggie. “Do I ask you why your wife looks pissed when she picks you up from bar? No, so don’t worry about why Hollander is pissed.”

“Was it us? Does he not want us to talk about the wedding?” Haas asks.

“What fucking wedding? There is no wedding!” Ilya doesn’t even put on socks before stuffing his feet into his sneakers.

“Well, not yet.” Hayes says, though he sounds unsure. “Surely someday soon?”

“No, not ever. We’re not getting married because I said no when he asked and he hasn’t asked again since.” He is so done with this humiliation ritual. He jams his phone into his hoodie pocket and heads for the door, but Barrett stops him, putting his hand to Ilya’s chest.

“What do you mean, you said no? Why would you say no? You two are massively, grossly, in love. Everyone who knows hockey fucking knows it like it’s one of your stats.”

“I said no because…” And Ilya tries to pick out the least degrading sounding words about himself. “Because I was scared. And now we don’t talk about it so we just are never getting married even though I want to now.”

There’s about four seconds between him saying that, and an almost visible lightbulb going off above Barrett’s head.

“Well, why don’t you propose to him this time?”

“What?”

“Yeah! If he won’t do it, why don’t you?” Young asks, looking eager. “We could even help you plan a whole thing, to like, work him into the idea.”

“A whole thing?”

“Yes, with Harris’ help too. A little forced media, a few awkward questions for socials… he’ll have more ideas.” Barrett says. “We can turn this around.”

Bood nods. “Captain, you better go pick out a ring, we’ll have you engaged in no time.”

Several whoops echo in the room. An annoying little smile worms its way onto his face. 

“Fine. You can help me fix this. I will start group chat, we will start tomorrow.”

“Yes! We’re getting our royal wedding!” Haas hisses to Young, and both men start grinning like they’ve won the Cup.

He leaves the locker room feeling a little lighter, despite the angry boyfriend he’s going to have to have a painful conversation with on the car ride home. He’s so confident the team can help him pull this off, he almost can’t even stop smiling as he slides into the passenger seat.

Shane gives him one annoyed look before starting the car, and the elation only deflates a little.