Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

F/M, Gen, M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Ottawa Centaurs Team Ensemble & Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander & Ottawa Centaurs Team Ensemble & Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander & Ottawa Centaurs Team Ensemble

Characters:

Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander, Ottawa Centaurs WAGs Ensemble (Game Changers), Ottawa Centaurs Team Ensemble (Game Changers), Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags:

Established Relationship, Married Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Post-Book 6: The Long Game (Game Changers), Supportive Ottawa Centaurs (Game Changers), Ottawa Centaurs Group Chat (Game Changers), Ottawa Centaurs WAGs Group Chat (Game Changers), Investigations, Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov Relationship Timeline Reveal, Team as Family, Team Bonding, Crack Treated Seriously, everyone wants to know the timeline, everyone wants to know about the relationship, Nosy Teammates, and also wags, who are called saps, em-dashes are all home grown, italics may be overused, I write with vibes

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-03-13 Words: 19,996 Chapters: 1/1

Centaurs & SAPs vs The Timeline

Summary

After a year and a half of playing with Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov, the Centaurs could agree on one thing about the couple: everyone still knew almost nothing about their relationship.

The conclusion was very clear: if they wanted answers, it was time to send in the SAPs.

OR

5 times the Centaurs send their partners on an investigation for the truth about Shane and Ilya's relationship, and one time the team gets the answers for themselves. And then they freak out about it in the group chat.

Notes

Hello!

Is it one in the morning? Yes! Could I have waited until morning to post this? Probably!
But now I'm here.

This one is pure fun. People figuring out the hollanov relationship AFTER everything happens. Also I've had Tessa and Isla for five minutes but if anything happens to them I will kill everyone in this room and then myself. Also giving these men first names was so hard??? For what reason???

Thank you Dani! For being the best beta and editor ever. I love you. Follow them here as @the_navistar_carol or on tumblr as @the-navistar-carol.

AND FUCK AI. These em-dashes are MINE. Home grown grammar mistakes. We hate AI in this bitch. All my homies hate AI.

Edit 7/11/2026: Didn't think I was ever going to have to say this, but PLEASE do not send me hate if you don't like this fic. I don't need to know. This is not a realistic fic and is not meant to portray real life relationships. It is a CRACK fic, as mentioned in the tags. Please, if you don't like it, just close the tab and leave. I do not get paid enough (at all) to be dealing with whatever hate you spew at me because you don't like it.

After a year and a half of playing with Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov, the Centaurs could agree on one thing about the couple: everyone still knew almost nothing about their relationship. They were married. They loved each other. They had a dog. All that was clear and undeniable. 

But details? 

No. There were no details. No anecdotes or explanations. They shared absolutely nothing about themselves. 

Or maybe that wasn’t entirely fair. They did share some things. Everyday things.

They talked about the broken sink and the grocery list, about Amazon packages that showed up unannounced. They spoke about date nights and dinner with Shane’s parents. They spoke of their shared friends, about traveling to see Rose Landry, or the Pikes, or Cliff Marlow. Sometimes they even mentioned Scott Hunter and the group chat they were in with him and his husband, Kip. 

But they knew nothing — not one thing — about their relationship before they were outed. All anyone knew was that Hayden Pike must have known, because it was his FanMail that had outed them. They were similarly certain that Yuna and David Hollander knew. 

Surely there were others, not that the couple would ever confirm. Surely they hadn’t gotten together mere months before they were outed and then married.

Their statement had said “several years.” They never clarified how many. 

They wouldn’t even talk about sex. They very obviously had a healthy sex life. Rozanov showed up with scratches down his back, Hollander arrived at practice with hickeys he didn’t bother hiding — but aside from an occasional innuendo or wink, they didn’t talk about it. Which was a shock, given Rozanov’s reputation. 

They didn’t talk about anything, and it was starting to piss the team off. They had questions. They asked questions. Even Harris had tried to get information out of them under the guise of media stuff, but they never budged. 

At first, they assumed it was just new. They’d spent so long not talking about it that being able to must have felt unnatural. No one could blame their captain — nor his husband — for wanting privacy after the shitshow that had been their coming out.

But then months passed. 

Then a year. 

Then a year and a half. 

Nothing. Not when they were at parties or bars, not even after a few drinks — they never opened up to the guys. Not even Luca, who had more than once learned more than he meant to because of Rozanov’s teasing. But no one could ever tell how much of it was real and how much of it was just chirps designed to make the kid blush. 

It was Bood who got the first clue that it was something about the team that made them apprehensive to share. And he got that hint from his lovely wife, Cassie — which, in hindsight, tracked.

Halfway through their second season with the married couple, Zane and Cassie Boodram hosted one of their frequent barbecues. Everyone showed up. They always did. Partners, kids, even the occasional player from another team during the summer. Players stretched out on the yard, kids ran through the house with the dogs, and partners often found themselves around the table with several empty wine bottles.

But after the barbecue, when they were cleaning up the house, Cassie had mentioned the (in)famous and elusive married couple. 

“They’re sweet together,” she had said. 

Bood, halfway through cleaning the grill, had been absolutely lost. There hadn’t been any new couples at the barbecue that afternoon. LaPointe had planned to bring his new girl, but something had come up at the last minute.

“Who?” 

“Shane and Ilya,” she had answered, like it should’ve been obvious. She picked up a plate and stuffed it into the trash bag she had hooked over her arm. “I talked to them for almost an hour tonight. I don’t think I’ve ever actually had that much time to sit down and ask how they’re settling in. We had Milo right around the time they got married, so I’ve always had a baby on my hip.” 

He blinked a few times, grill scrub in his hand. “And they answered you?”

She stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “Well, yeah,” she’d said. “I know I’m a woman, Zane, but I can handle hearing about two men in a sexual relationship.”

It took him forty-five minutes to explain to his wife that that was not what he meant.

Afterward, he went inside and called Wyatt. This was a breakthrough of epic proportions, and he needed to tell someone. 

He then found out that Hazy’s wife, Lisa, had also gotten information from the couple that evening. Actually, apparently, she’d been having conversations with the couple for an entire year. Real conversations. With real answers.

This discovery set off a domino effect. One by one, the guys realized that while their questions went unanswered, all of their SAPs — spouses and partners, because WAGs felt outdated now — were getting everything they wanted to know… with the exception of Harris, who was basically part of the team.

None of them had been sworn to secrecy either. They were perfectly free to go home and tell their husbands all about it.

It was Nick’s wife who finally said it out loud — that it wasn’t about secrecy at all.

“You are coworkers,” Selena Chouinard had told them. “You have to trust them in the locker room and on the ice. I’m sure it’s awkward for them to have you asking those questions. Especially when they were hiding it from the league they still play for.” 

Caitlin Dykstra had agreed with her. “They already told you how the commissioner reacted to their relationship,” she’d pointed out. “Why would they risk anyone thinking they’re making locker room culture unstable?” 

That was fair. They all knew nothing was going to make them uncomfortable at this point, but it was fair. Crowell had practically threatened them when everything came out. Hell, Hollzy had switched teams because of Montreal’s reaction. They weren’t hiding, just cautious about who they told the information to. 

The conclusion was very clear: if they wanted answers, it was time to send in the SAPs.

1. Hockey - Isla Pittman and Caitlin Dykstra 

They sent in Caitlin because she was a veteran SAP. She was fluent in hockey, fluent in locker-room politics, fluent in the particular brand of nonsense that came out of Roz’s mouth when he was feeling smug. She knew which questions to ask and how to ask them. She could talk systems, contracts, cap space. She could take a chirp and shoot one back twice as sharp.

They sent in Isla because she was decidedly not a veteran SAP. She was Holmberg’s girl, and as far as they knew, had almost no knowledge of the sport her boyfriend played. Her questions would be genuinely curious, and they knew Hollander would not pass up the opportunity to talk about hockey with someone who didn’t know the first thing about it. 

It was strategic. They would start soft.

Hockey was safe ground. They would talk about hockey, and talk about it often. They just wouldn’t touch the parts of it that had anything to do with their rivalry or relationship.

It was anyone’s guess how that had all unfolded. 

Caitlin and Isla were given the easiest task. Or, the one that looked easiest on paper. Every operation needed a soft launch.

They met at a coffee shop, and Roz and Hollander showed up fully prepared to answer hockey questions. They just didn’t know which ones.

And that was the point.

Isla spent half an hour easing them into the conversation by asking actual questions about the game. Some of it was simple, like the difference between a major and a minor, or why everyone hated the shootout. Other questions were more complex, like why the hell is it called “the crease?”

Somehow, Shane had an answer for her. Because of course he did. He’d clearly been waiting his whole life for that question.

Eventually, with a nudge from Caitlin, she was brave enough to very gently broach the subject. “So, you guys are, like, the best, right?” she asked, rather awkwardly. “I mean — just — Cal wouldn’t shut up about it when he found out you were going to be on the same team.”

Shane smiled to himself, but made no attempt to deny it. Ilya, on the other hand, was wearing his signature smirk.

“We are the best,” he agreed easily. “Holmberg would not know what that is like.” 

Shane immediately swatted at his husband’s shoulder. “Cal is very good. Obviously he’s good,” he said, because objectively, Holmberg was good. That was why he was on the team. “But, yeah. I mean, we… we’re the best.” 

Caitlin snorted into her coffee, shaking her head. “And somehow, this is them being modest,” she laughed. She turned to Isla as she set her cup back down. “They’ve been the best. From the second they were drafted, everyone knew they were the best. There’s a million Cups between them.” 

“Four,” the married couple corrected in unison. 

“Five after this season,” Ilya added. Typically, someone would have called him out for jinxing them, but it wasn’t much of a debate anymore. They had only lost a handful of games all season, and one of those had been when half the starting line was out with the flu. “But many awards between us, yes.” 

Caitlin recognized it as the opening it was. Her grin spread wide and toothy, and she turned back to Isla as if the couple wasn’t sitting directly across from her. “They used to compete for everything. Every year, all I heard was, ‘Do you think Hollander or Rozanov will win MVP? Do you think Rozanov or Hollander will score the most goals this season?’ It was endless!” 

Shane shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah, the whole rivalry thing started before we were even drafted,” he mumbled, staring into his cup. “Back in Juniors.” 

Ilya’s smirk faded — just a little. He ran his hand over the back of Shane’s neck, a soothing gesture that most of the team and SAPs had learned to recognize over the past year and a half.

“Was always respectful,” Ilya said. “Even when everyone thought it was not, we respected each other.” 

Isla leaned back in her chair. She had done this for Cal, of course, because his constant questions about the couple were becoming unbearable. That being said, she couldn’t deny her own curiosity.

Her next question wasn’t even one that they had planned on asking. 

“Did you guys ever share strategies over the years?” she asked. Most of the questions the guys wanted them to ask were silly. Things about points, or ego, or dumb locker-room rumors. And she wanted those answers too, but she was sitting in front of two of the best players of all time, and it all seemed wildly unimportant now.

“Sorry if that’s a dumb question. I don’t really know how hockey strategies work,” she admitted, a little sheepishly. “Like, can you share strategies?” 

Shane chuckled, though it was always hard to tell if his laugh was genuine or forced. “Not really, unless you’re on the same team,” he said. Most strategies were system-based, aside from how each player held their stick or chose to shoot a puck. “But we definitely picked up on some things about each other over the years.” 

“Like when he stole my wrist shot,” Ilya grumbled. 

“I did not steal it,” Shane shot back, squeezing his husband’s thigh in warning. “I learned how to do it. There’s a difference.” 

“Is called The Rozanov!” Ilya snapped. His tone was joking. Mostly. “You are thief.” 

“I am also Rozanov now,” Shane pointed out, eyebrows raised in a challenge. “Or did you forget, Mr. Hollander-Rozanov?” 

Ilya pretended to bristle, but they could all see the fond smile he was failing to hide. Caitlin caught it almost every time someone mentioned that they were married.

She figured they must have been a secret for a long time. No one had ever confirmed the timeline, and she knew better than to ask. That question wasn’t on the list. At least not for today.

They talked for a while about the rivalry, about the points race that happened every year — and had stubbornly followed them all the way to the current season, despite the rivalry clearly being over and done with. Or at least resolved.

At one point, the couple admitted to copying each other’s skate patterns during particularly vicious games back in their first few seasons. 

“We liked to chirp each other, and we always knew where the other was,” Ilya admitted with a shrug. “I wanted to make him mad, throw him off, so I copied his movement.” 

“And you didn’t notice?” Isla asked Shane. 

He snorted with a shake of his head. “Oh, no, I totally did! I just knew it would piss him off more if I pretended I didn’t.” He picked up a piece of Ilya’s banana bread and tossed it in his mouth. Ilya didn’t complain. Caitlin had noticed he barely touched it anyway — he just let Shane pick at it. “It worked. He stopped doing it after a few seasons.” 

They admitted to being aware of each other. Always. Even back in Juniors. How they didn’t need to look over their shoulder to know where the other was. To know when they needed to brace for impact. That had been noticeable since the beginning and was only made more obvious now that they played on the same team — especially when they played on the same line. 

“Were you ever jealous?” Caitlin asked carefully. Part of her already knew the answer — or thought she did. The two of them pretended to argue so often that she sometimes couldn’t tell which fights were teasing and which ones had teeth. “When you won the Cup or whatever?” 

“Yes, but…” Ilya trailed off, glancing over at his husband to find him already looking back. Something unbearable fond settled across Ilya’s face. “Also proud. I knew he worked hard. I knew it could be either of us. I wished it was me, but if it was not me-” 

“Then I was glad it was him,” Shane finished his sentence. They did that a lot — finishing each other’s sentences like they’d lived in each other’s heads for years. Maybe they had. 

Caitlin hummed, looking between the two of them. She knew they weren’t here to ask the more… intense questions. It was supposed to stay safely within hockey-adjacent topics. But part of her couldn’t ignore the thought nagging at the back of her mind. The voice in her head sounded a whole lot like her husband. 

“So,” she said casually, far too casually, “did you guys have insane sex after Cup wins, or did you ignore each other out of jealousy?”

Wildly off script. This was not on the list.

Isla nearly dropped her cup. Coffee sloshed over the rim and dripped onto the table as she scrambled to steady it. “Caitlin Elizabeth Dykstra!” she scolded. 

Ilya laughed loudly as Shane went red and buried his face in his hands. Shane muttered something sharp in Russian, which only made his husband laugh harder.

“It was summer,” Shane said quickly. Too quickly. The haste had Caitlin wondering how many Cups they’d actually been together for — Roz’s? Shane’s first? His second? “We didn’t really talk after the MLH Awards.” 

“Except for the last Cup,” Ilya chimed in. 

Shane paused, then nodded slowly in agreement. “Except for the last one.” 

Caitlin leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice. This time, when she asked, she directed her question more to Ilya. She knew he wouldn’t answer anything Shane didn’t want him to — that had been proven multiple times over the last year and a half — but he would say the things Shane never quite managed to voice out loud. “So, special, crazy sex. Right?” 

Ilya smirked at her, all proud and smug like the one he wore on the ice. But when he turned to Shane, the smirk softened. Instead, they looked at each other with soft smiles, as if remembering the same exact moment. 

Caitlin and Isla didn’t really need the answer after that. They could see it. Hell, anyone with eyes could see that the two of them adored each other. That everything between them was special, even the smallest act of picking up the right toothpaste from the store. 

“Special, yes,” Ilya answered, though he hadn’t taken his eyes off his husband. “Is special every time, but…” He shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid. 

Shane reached out and took Ilya’s hand on top of the table, brushing his thumb over Ilya’s knuckles. “But sometimes it’s extra special,” he continued. “Winning the Cup feels like you’re on top of the world. And then being with each other after…” He smiled privately to himself. “It just felt like more.”

Ilya hummed and leaned in, pressing a kiss to the side of Shane’s head.

Neither woman asked another question about their relationship after that. Caitlin sat back and let Isla ask more general hockey questions for another hour before they finally packed up and headed to their cars.

“Oh, ladies!” Ilya called from across the parking lot. Both women turned over their shoulders. “You may tell your boys what you learned today. We know they sent you.” 

Isla immediately went red, stammering half-apologies and pleas to not have it taken out on Holmberg. Caitlin tensed like she hadn’t suspected for even a second that the couple might figure out their scheme. 

Shane laughed as he opened the driver’s side door of the car. “It’s okay,” he assured them. “We don’t mind them knowing.”

Ilya winked, and the two of them got in the car before either woman could recover.

Of course they’d known.

🔐The Truth 🔐

Caitlin Dykstra: They figured us out.
Evan Dykstra: What?!
Cal(lum) Holmberg: HOW?
Caitlin Dykstra: I don’t know!
Caitlin Dykstra: Roz is very perceptive!
Isla Pittman (Holmberg): So is Hollander.
Zane Boodram: Cap is gonna be insufferable about this 🙄
Luca Haas: We will never hear the end of it.
Caitlin Dykstra: No, they seemed ok about it. Said they didn’t mind you knowing.
Cassie Boodram: So what did you find out? 👀👀👀👀
Caitlin Dykstra: They never intentionally shared strategies.
Caitlin Dykstra: But they copied each other A LOT just to piss each other off.
Isla Pittman(Holmberg): They also said they always respected each other.
Isla Pittman(Holmberg): and Caitlin asked them if they have crazy sex after Cup wins.
Lisa Hayes: CAITLIN!
Wyatt Hayes: CAITLIN?!
Evan Dykstra: CAITLIN!!!
Jennifer Boyle: CAITLIN! 😭
Caitlin Dykstra: WHAT?!
Caitlin Dykstra: I was curious. And you KNOW Roz wanted to talk about it.
Nick Chouinard: Yeah but that doesn’t mean you have to ASK
Noah LaPointe: HE’S GONNA TALK ABOUT IT ALL THE TIME NOW!
Noah LaPointe: … but what was his answer? 👀
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): Noah, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t ask that.
Logan Young: I’m not! What was the answer?
Wyatt Hayes: You’re wayyyy too invested in their sex life, kid.
Logan Young: Shut up! I like to know things.
Caitlin Dykstra: He said it was “special.” But followed it up by saying it was “always special.”
Isla Pittman (Holmberg): Hollander said “extra special.”
Isla Pittman (Holmberg): They’re so in love it’s honestly kind of gross.
Zane Boodram: Yeah, you never get used to it.
Troy Barrett: When and why would we have gotten used to it?
Troy Barrett: We genuinely thought they were trying to kill each other on the ice for YEARS.
Harris Drover: It was foreplay.
Logan Young: EWWW! 🤢
Luca Haas: NO!
Noah LaPointe: ABSOLUTELY NOT 🤮🤮🤮🤮
Cal(lum) Holmberg: 🤢DUDE! Those are our dads!

2. Tattoos - Tessa Reed (And Luca Haas? For some reason?) 

Tessa — the newest addition to the WAG chat after becoming official with LaPointe — was the perfect person to ask the couple about tattoos. She was a tattoo artist. A good one. She and LaPointe had met when he’d wandered into her shop intending to get something deeply stupid that she eventually talked him out of. The team decided that if she’d convinced him not to give her money and had given him her number instead, she was probably a keeper.

She had met Ilya and Shane at a handful of games and team outings over the past eight months, but she hadn’t actually sat down and had a real conversation with them yet. Of course, with this team being as chaotic as it was, they decided to throw her right into the deep end. 

Tessa didn’t mind. She talked to a lot of people in her profession — part of the job. It was truly shocking how many people got tattoos instead of going to therapy. 

She spent the first hour of the team get-together glued to Noah’s side, getting introduced to the people she hadn’t met yet. Inevitably, they gravitated toward Logan Young and Callum Holmberg. They were Noah’s closest friends on the team.

She liked them well enough. In controlled doses.

Young was loud in that way that filled whatever space he was in, and Holmberg tended to match whatever energy he was given — especially when Isla wasn’t around. Which she wasn’t tonight.

Tessa really liked Isla. She liked talking to her at parties, liked sitting next to her at games. They were the only two SAPs who weren’t married, and two of the four without kids. The easy rhythm she had with Isla made Holmberg easier to tolerate.

After fifteen deeply overstimulating minutes, Tessa spotted Luca Haas on one of the couches and made a beeline for him without thinking. He was probably her favorite of Noah’s friends — the fourth and final of the “kids” on the team, and the one Noah roomed with the most on the road. He was just as close to Noah as Young and Holmberg were, but quieter, less obnoxious. The kind of person who slipped out of groups without anyone really noticing.

“What’re you doing by yourself?” she asked, dropping down beside him. 

Luca shrugged, but didn’t answer her.

She didn’t mind the silence. Sometimes Luca just needed a minute to adjust to a new presence. She’d figured out quickly that he was quiet and artsy and, in a lot of ways, a lot like her.

They spent a while making small talk. She asked about the last game; he asked about the most recent tattoos she’d done. It was easy. Comfortable.

And then Ilya Rozanov plopped down on the chair next to the couch, and suddenly Tessa remembered that she had a mission tonight. Her first mission as a SAP, apparently. Before she’d even figured out where she was supposed to sit during away games.

“Tessa!” Ilya yelled enthusiastically. He had a cup in his hand that was surely filled with some kind of alcohol, and at this point it was hard to tell whether he was tipsy or just genuinely delighted. “I am glad you are here. I have many questions about you and Pointy.” 

Her eyes widened at his statement. She’d sort of assumed Noah calling him “Dad” was a joke, but suddenly she wasn’t so sure. “I, uh…” 

“What my husband means,” Shane cut in smoothly as he sat down on the arm of Ilya’s chair and draped over his shoulders, “is that we haven’t seen Pointy this happy in a while. We’re really glad you two are doing well.” 

Tessa let the tension loosen in her shoulders slightly. Right. She had been warned that some of the guys might try to chirp her. Especially Rozanov. According to Noah, the easiest way to get out of it was to lean in.

“I still can’t believe you guys call him Pointy,” she said, hoping her laugh sounded natural. “I mean, he’s a defender, right? Not really the points guy.” 

“Defenseman,” Luca corrected automatically.

He was the points guy. According to almost every hockey forum she’d accidentally memorized (and there were many after she realized exactly who she was dating — some of these people had spreadsheets about her boyfriend) Luca Haas was one of the points guys, just behind the Hollander-Rozanov statistical empire.

“And Pointy is just his nickname,” Luca continued. “I’m Haasy, Cap is Roz, Hollander is Hollzy.” 

Shane went on, “Holmberg is Bergy, Hayes is Hazy–” 

“I think she understands, my love,” Ilya interrupted. He placed a gentle hand on Shane’s knee and squeezed before turning back to Tessa. “Are the kids not being nice to you? Is why you are here with Haasy?” 

“No!” she answered, probably too quickly. “No, they’re great. I just… I’m not as energetic as they are.” Understatement of the year. But they didn’t need to know that.

Ilya seemed to consider it for a second, like trying to sniff out a lie, and then apparently decided she really was just antisocial. “You are tattoo artist, yes?” he asked. 

She nodded stiffly, half torn between confusion and relief. On the one hand, she had zero idea how they’d ended up on the topic. On the other hand, thank fuck they did, because that was exactly what she’d been sent here to ask about.

A small, suspicious part of her wondered if Rozanov already knew. If he’d taken pity on her because she was new. She wouldn’t have put it past Lisa or Cassie to throw her a bone. Wouldn’t have put it past them to warn the couple in advance so Tessa didn’t spend the entire night tying herself into knots.

“Do you only tattoo your own art,” Ilya continued, “or do you take other designs?”

Shane nudged him softly. “Ilya, not here. It’s a party.” 

“I am just asking,” he argued. “This is normal conversation. I am being polite. I am appealing to her interests.” 

Luca groaned beside her and let his head fall back on the top of the cushion. “Bood never should have taught you that phrase,” he grumbled. “We should have let you keep saying it wrong.” 

She laughed at Luca’s rare quip. He didn’t loosen up very often — maybe less often than Tessa did, actually — but when he did, it always landed. She liked being around him when Noah had his friends over for game nights or to watch a movie. He made the noise manageable.

Ilya was not deterred by either of the men scolding him. “Haasy designed a tattoo for me. I am looking for new artist,” he said. He quirked an eyebrow at Tessa, like the two of them were suddenly in on a secret no one else knew about. The Ottawa captain was charming, she decided. “My last artist moved to Vancouver, so now I must change.” 

That was her opening. 

“What other tattoos do you have?” she asked. It was a normal question — one she asked people all the time, especially potential clients. It still felt faintly like she was tricking him into it, and she didn’t like that feeling at all.

“Bear for Russia,” he said, tapping his chest. Then his arm. “Canadian wolf bird for my love.” 

For my love.

This was going to be easier than Tessa thought. 

“You have a tattoo for Hollzy?” Luca asked. He sounded shocked, and he had the self-awareness to realize he’d half-shouted the question. 

The fucker beat her to the question. 

Unbelievable. She’d orchestrated this entire social maneuver, and Luca just bulldozed it.

Ilya nodded far too casually. As if he had forgotten that this was an answer he’d been keeping from his teammates — and Tessa knew he’d been keeping it, because that was why they were making her ask it. “Next one will be for Shane too.” 

“Why a–” Tessa stopped herself, trying to recall his exact wording. Unfortunately, all she could remember was that he’d said something ridiculous. “Why a bird?” 

Ilya glanced fondly at his husband, who was mirroring his affection. “First time we spent summer together, I discovered stupid Canadian wolf bird. And that Shane could speak Bird,” Ilya explained. “I wanted all my summers to be like that, so I get tattoo of stupid bird.”

Shane slid his fingers into Ilya’s curls and hummed contently. “That’s a very simplified version. But that was the summer we realized we had to make it work, no matter how hard it was.” He smiled, all tangled up in his husband, and Tessa almost couldn’t imagine there was a time when they couldn’t reach for each other. “He didn’t tell me about the tattoo before he got it. I probably would have suggested something more subtle.” 

While Tessa could agree that the enormous bird on Ilya’s shoulder wasn’t exactly elegant, she did think it was romantic. If someone did that for her, she thought she would have melted into a puddle.

“And what’s your next one?” she asked. 

Ilya glanced over at Luca with a soft smile — a genuine one, not just the smirk he so often wore. It was obvious that he really liked the kid. “I asked Haasy to design me something that is more obviously for Shane,” he said. “Hockey puck with his jersey number and a text he sent me many years ago. Have not seen it yet.” 

Luca slumped a little farther into the couch. “I haven’t finished it,” he admitted. And really, no one could blame him — the season had been chaos so far. Travel almost every week, injuries that had barely healed, that week where everyone got the flu.

Shane, however, seemed stuck on the part of the tattoo he didn’t know about yet. “What text?” he asked, eyebrows lifting. “You’d better not be putting a sext on your body, Ilya, or I swear to—”

“No,” Ilya interrupted gently. He linked their hands together, and Tessa watched the motion like she’d never seen anything like it. Maybe she hadn’t. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen two people quite this in love. “One you sent after Cup win. ‘The luckiest.’ With one of those winking faces.” 

Shane paused for a second, as if thinking about when he had sent that message. When it clicked, his brow furrowed. “But I was just–” 

“I know what it meant back then,” Ilya said softly, cutting in again. He lifted Shane’s hand and pressed a kiss to his wedding ring. “Means something different now, yes? Is still your words on my body. Is what I want.” 

Tessa watched Shane’s eyes become a little misty, and she looked away when he leaned down to kiss the top of Ilya’s head, whispering something in Russian that felt too private to overhear, even if she couldn’t understand it. Even now, it seemed like an honor to witness this version of them. She remembered when their relationship came out — how it had turned into headlines and debates and noise. None of that seemed to matter right now.

When it felt like enough time had passed, she cleared her throat and turned back to them. “What about you, Shane?” she asked. “Any tattoos?” 

He straightened on the armrest but didn’t pull his hand from Ilya’s. “None right now,” he answered. “But I’ve been thinking about getting one. For him.” 

Tessa caught the slightly stunned grin on the Ottawa captain’s face at his husband’s confession, but she didn’t comment on it. She charged on before she could talk herself out of it. “Oh, what are you thinking about getting?” 

Shane glanced down at his lap, a blush coloring his cheeks. “I’ve actually been thinking about it for a long time,” he murmured, still not looking up. “I want a bouquet of lilies, and I want to get the number eighty-one hidden somewhere in there. If I can make the design work, I’d like to get something in Russian too. Something that belongs to him.” 

This was not her place, but suddenly she had a very vivid image of what that tattoo could look like. The lilies. The eighty-one. The Russian script curved along the stems. If she’d had paper in front of her, she could have sketched it in ten minutes. 

“I can do it,” she blurted out, and then almost immediately covered her mouth. Oh God, Noah was going to kill her. She made it awkward. She had failed as a SAP. She’d been sent here to observe, not volunteer her professional services like a lunatic.

Congratulations, Tessa. First official team party, and you’ve turned it into a sales pitch.

“I’m sorry. That was inappropriate,” she mumbled. She tried to take a deep breath. Collect herself. Somehow make it sound not that bad. “I just — I mean, I have an idea of how it could work, if you really want it. And I have openings in my books.”

When she risked a glance in Shane’s direction, he was grinning at her like he’d just won the lottery. “Do you really?” he asked. “I’ve seen your work. LaPointe won’t shut up about it, actually. I just didn’t know how to ask without making it sound like I was taking advantage of… you know, your relationship.” 

Thank the Lord. For once, Tessa had not fucked up a social situation. 

And maybe being ballsy got people far in this particular group. It seemed to, considering ninety percent of the openly queer players in the MLH somehow ended up on this team.

“Are you drinking tonight?” she asked. At the shake of Shane’s head, she continued, “I have an opening tomorrow at noon. If you’re not busy. And there’s a private room in the back, so you don’t have to deal with people watching you get a tattoo.”

Shane finally let go of Ilya’s hand and pulled out his phone. “Put your number in,” he said. “Then text me the address.”

Yep. Being ballsy was the way to go with this group. 

🔐The Truth 🔐

Tessa Reed (LaPointe): I am giving Shane Hollander a tattoo.
Noah LaPointe: No. Tell them the full truth.
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): I am giving Shane Hollander a tattoo TODAY 🤪
Noah LaPointe: Thank you for your candor. 🙂‍↕️
Cal(lum) Holmberg: Was that a fucking Divergent reference?
Wyatt Hayes: Kid. Not important right now.
Wyatt Hayes: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE GIVING HOLLZY A TATTOO?? 🤯
Zane Boodram: HOLLZY is getting a tattoo?
Lisa Hayes: OUR Hollzy? You’re sure it’s not another Hollzy?
Cassie Boodram: I genuinely never thought I’d see this day.
Isla Pittman (Holmberg): Ooooooh what’s he getting?
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): Something for Ilya.
Logan Young: HE’S GETTING A TATTOO FOR CAP? ⁉️⁉️
Jennifer Boyle: Aw that’s kind of adorable.
Harris Drover: And so aggressively sweet.
Selena Chouinard: Soooo you got information out of them last night? 😌
Cal(lum) Holmberg: 🗣️SHARE! SHARE! SHARE! 🗣️
Troy Barrett: ok tone down the enthusiasm, kid.
Cal(lum) Holmberg: NEVER
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): Ilya already has one tattoo for Shane and is getting another.
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): Luca is designing it.
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): Shane is getting his first today. It’s for Ilya.
Nick Chouinard: Which one is for Shane?
Logan Young: What do you mean LUCA is designing Cap’s next tattoo?
Logan Young: LUCA HAAS! 😤RESPOND RIGHT NOW.
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): The bird is for Shane. He said it reminds him of the first summer they spent together as a couple.
Luca Haas: Yes, I’m designing a tattoo for Roz. No, I will not show you. You’ll see it when he gets it. I think Tessa is doing that one too.
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): I might. Depends on how Shane likes his today.
Noah LaPointe: He’ll love it.
Cassie Boodram: Of course he’ll love it.
Lisa Hayes: At this rate the entire team is going to get matching tattoos from you when they win the Cup this year.
Evan Dykstra: SHHHH SHUT UP!
Zane Boodram: ARE YOU TRYING TO JINX US?!
Logan Young: THE HOCKEY GODS WILL HEAR YOU!
Caitlin Dykstra: Damn. I forgot how deeply superstitious they all are.
Zane Boodram: DELETE THAT CUP MESSAGE.
Evan Dykstra: I AM BEGGING YOU
Cal(lum) Holmberg: Wait! What is Hollzy getting tattooed?
Troy Barrett: For once, the kid has a good question.
Cal(lum) Holmberg: ok fuck you, Barrett. 🖕
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): Lillies, the number 81, and “my soul” in Cyrillic 🥺
Harris Drover: Just when I think they can’t get more disgustingly in love, they permanently ink it on their bodies.

3. Rose Landry and Ilya the Man-Whore - Selena Chouinard

Selena never spent much time with the team at Monks. She was happy to let Nick have his nights with the boys after a win. But tonight the kids were with Nick’s parents, and she had questions to ask on behalf of the SAPs. Safe to say, it didn’t take much convincing to go out to the bar that night. Especially when she heard that the Hollander-Rozanovs would be there. 

She spent a long time thinking about how to bring up Rose Landry. It was the hardest question to ask casually, and she knew it, but it was also the one everyone wanted answered. Someone had to do it. Unfortunately, Selena had developed a reputation for handling difficult conversations with tact.

She guessed that came from having more kids than anyone else on the team. Three of them, all wildly different, all at different stages of development. Every conversation at home felt like navigating a minefield. She had plenty of practice in understanding when to push and when to wait.

Thank god Rose Landry just got a new boyfriend. That was the only possible way she was going to get anywhere close to this topic. 

So she very tactfully arranged herself at a table with the couple and Wyatt Hayes. And when the bar hit its loudest, most chaotic peak, she just as tactfully mentioned that she could use another drink. Hayes, being the stand-up guy he was (and also knowing exactly what she was doing) had immediately offered to go buy another round. And if he found himself standing with the younger players for a few minutes before he joined the ridiculously long line for drinks… well, that wasn’t Selena’s fault. 

It just meant she had more time alone with the famous hockey husbands. 

“So I saw Rose has a new boyfriend,” she said casually. She had met the actress at the couple’s wedding, and they both spoke of her often enough that calling her Rose Landry all the time felt oddly formal. “What do we think of him?” 

“He is not good enough for her,” Ilya grumbled into his drink. 

Shane rolled his eyes like he’d had this conversation before. “He’s fine, Ilya. We haven’t even met him yet.” 

“He is a smug Olympian who thinks money grows on trees and liquor falls from sky,” Ilya argued. He seemed much more opposed to Rose’s new love interest than Shane was, which was interesting to say the least. 

Rose’s new boyfriend was a smug Olympian — some kind of swimmer or diver, Selena thought. He had gotten some heat a few years earlier after declaring he was coming home with gold, despite not having cracked the top five among nationally ranked swimmers in his own country the year before. Most of the articles about him online — before Rose — were less about athletics and more about his party habits and promises no one had asked him to make.

“I should remind you,” Shane said slowly, “that you are also, technically, a smug Olympian.” 

Selena laughed at the look of pure outrage on Roz’s face as he stuttered out half-arguments and scoffs of offense. “At least I can win awards,” he snapped. “He has never touched first place in anything. Not even school spelling show.” 

“Spelling bee,” Shane corrected. He turned back to Selena as if choosing to disregard his husband entirely. “Ilya is protective of her. He doesn’t think anyone is good enough.” 

It caught her off guard, to be honest. She had heard the chirps about Shane’s brief relationship with Rose. She even assumed it to be a sore spot in their marriage — that Shane had continued a friendship with Rose, even if Ilya insisted upon hanging out with her too. 

Maybe that wasn’t the best way to approach the topic, but she couldn’t see another option. “So, there were never any hard feelings, then?” she asked. Both men tilted their heads at her like dogs who’d been given a command they didn’t understand. “About, like, Rose and Shane?” 

They turned to look at each other, slipping into one of those infamous silent conversations she’d witnessed plenty of times over the last two years. It went on. And on. Long enough for Selena to reconsider the question and several major life choices. Maybe this had, in fact, been a terrible idea.

“Was long time ago,” Ilya eventually said. He shrugged his shoulders, but there was tension there that hadn’t existed a moment ago. “I was jealous at first, but… she is good friend to Shane. She is good friend to me.”

“Besides, Ilya and I never would have happened if Rose and I never happened,” Shane added. He said it so casually that Selena almost missed that it wasn’t information she’d known before. That it wasn’t information anyone had known before. “Rose basically told me I was gay. Before that, I was pretending I didn’t have romantic feelings for Ilya at all.”

But that registered.

Selena didn’t know the timeline. They’d never shared anything concrete. She never would have guessed there was an Ilya and Shane before Rose Landry. Let alone that Rose Landry would have encouraged Shane to go be with him — knowingly or not. 

“Wait,” she said quickly, holding out her hand like she would to stop her kids from walking into oncoming traffic. “You guys were together before Rose?” 

Shane blanched as if he’d only just realized he’d said too much. Like he’d gotten too comfortable. “We, uh…” He trailed off, looking over to Ilya for help. 

“We were something,” Ilya suggested. It wasn’t much of an answer, but it was more than anyone else had ever gotten. Selena wondered why on earth she was the person they trusted with this. “But we were also scared to be something.” 

Shane nodded beside him, visibly relaxing at the non-answer his husband had provided. There was still nothing concrete there. They had been something, but they hadn’t said what that something actually was.

Maybe they were flirting. Maybe they were fucking. Maybe they had dated and realized it was too hard. Whatever it was, it had clearly mattered. That much was obvious in the way Ilya wouldn’t quite look at Shane. And whatever they had been, they weren’t ready to define it for her — and that was okay. 

But Selena still had questions. 

“Not to slut-shame, Roz,” she began, fully aware this was about to sound worse before it sounded better, “but weren’t you sleeping with half the continent at that point?” The tabloids alone had suggested impressive stamina.

Shane closed his eyes for a second. “Jesus Christ.”

Yes, they were going to talk about all the places his husband’s dick had been. Sorry, Hollzy, but the team had sent her here for answers.

Ilya shrugged and took another sip of his drink. Shane bristled beside him. “I got around, as Bood would say,” Ilya answered. “But I stopped when I knew I only wanted him. Forever.” 

“They called him a man-whore,” Shane bit out, clearly starting to feel the effects of his third beer. He leaned further into Ilya’s side, still looking straight at Selena as he spoke. “At first, I was jealous. Probably. Not that I would label what it was. Mostly it felt like I wasn’t as important to him as I thought I was. Like I mattered less. But after we were exclusive, it just made me mad for him.” 

Selena kept her mouth shut this time. She was nosy as hell, but she knew when to step back. Whatever feelings they had about their sexual pasts were theirs. She’d asked the questions, and she didn’t feel bad about nudging them in this direction, but she did feel bad about making Shane relive whatever anger was currently spilling out of him. 

He gripped his glass so tight that his knuckles went white, his face pinched up into a hard scowl. “They tried to, like, shame him for having sex,” Shane said, voice rising. “Like it isn’t a very human thing most of us do.” Ilya had started to run his hand up and down Shane’s bicep, steadying, patient, practiced — but he wasn’t cooling off at all. “It would be different if people were coming out and saying he was a bad guy, or he was selfish in bed, but they weren’t. Every woman — or man — Ilya slept with has said good things about him. And then when he stopped sleeping around, they just made up rumors about that instead. They wouldn’t just leave him alone!”

When he was single, he was reckless. When he settled down, he was suspicious. There was no version of him they didn’t twist. That was the only Ilya they cared about.

Suddenly, Selena’s tongue felt too heavy in her mouth. Because, yeah — that was exactly what the tabloids had done. What the team had done, too, when Roz first came to Ottawa. Hell, it was kind of what they were doing right now.

It was ugly and undeniable — complicity didn’t disappear just because you felt bad about it, and visibility was not an invitation.

“I’m sorry you guys had to deal with that,” she whispered, and she meant it. If she could have, she would have reached over and squeezed their hands. Would have offered something, anything, that resembled comfort. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy hearing that kind of stuff about your partners.”

There had been rumors about Shane, too — just fewer of them. A few women early in his career. A few men who’d spoken up after Shane was outed and became suddenly, overwhelmingly visible in queer spaces. She was certain Ilya carried around his own version of this anger, tucked away and ready to explode.

Especially when gossip blogs still insisted Shane and Rose were getting back together.

Very gay, very married Shane.

“While we are being honest,” Ilya cut in. “I was… seething about Shane and Rose. Was terrible about it. My team in Boston was scared of me for months, I think. They did not know why I was angry. It took a long time for me to stop being jealous of Rose.” 

Oh. 

Oh, Selena had read this whole thing very, very wrong. 

“I did not know what to do with it. Wanting Shane and not having him,” Ilya admitted, trudging on as if Selena’s whole understanding of them hadn’t just shattered. “It made me terrible.”

She leaned back in her chair and scanned the bar for Wyatt, half-hoping he’d reappear and mercifully end the conversation. There was very little that shook her, but being this wrong had certainly left her off balance. Ilya Rozanov wasn’t supposed to be the jealous one in this relationship — at least not in the narrative she and everyone else had spoon-fed themselves.

“I wish I could say something that makes it better,” Selena offered quietly. It was the most sincere thing she could manage. There wasn’t anything that would fix it. Certainly not something that she could say or do. 

Ilya slid an arm around Shane’s shoulders and pulled him close. Shane, despite the fact that he was still visibly upset, went willingly. When he was close enough, he pressed a kiss to Ilya’s shoulder.

“We’re good now,” Shane said. “It’s over now.” 

Ilya hummed in agreement and set his empty glass at the edge of the table. “We know which rumors were true. We talked about how we felt back before we were exclusive.” He rubbed a steady hand up and down Shane’s back. “We were very stupid and very irresponsible back then. Not so much anymore.” 

And just like that, Shane’s shoulders loosened. Ilya Hollander-Rozanov was very good at making Shane Hollander-Rozanov calm down. That much had always been evident.

Shane continued to grumble under his breath, but he’d relaxed considerably. Something Ilya had said had gotten through to him, even if Selena couldn’t figure out what. 

This time, Selena did lean across the table and squeeze Ilya’s hand. “I’m glad you guys figured it out,” she said softly, and she meant it. “You two are… solid. In a way that’s rare.”

Shane shrugged against his husband’s side. “We match,” he said simply. 

Yes. Yes, they did. 

🔐The Truth 🔐

Selena Chouinard: Abort! Abort mission! We were so so wrong! ❌
Wyatt Hayes: I was gone for ten minutes! What could have happened??
Luca Haas: Wrong about what?
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): Selena you cannot just drop that and disappear!
Evan Dykstra: I just wanna know if this is going to hurt us at practice tomorrow tbh
Selena Chouinard: Their whole dynamic.
Selena Chouinard: Their whole timeline.
Selena Chouinard: The Rose Landry Thing.
Selena Chouinard: Ilya’s Hoe Phase.
Selena Chouinard: All of it. We were wrong about all of it.
Caitlin Dykstra: Can you tell us instead of sending a hundred messages?
Nick Chouinard: Yeah, babe. I love you, but this is a lot.
Logan Young: TELL US ABOUT THE ROSE LANDRY THING!
Zane Boodram: Kid. You have GOT to chill out about this whole thing.
Cal(lum) Holmberg: 🙄Dude it’s Rose fucking Landry. We do NOT need to chill.
Isla Pittman (Holmberg): I must agree with Cal on this one. Rose Landry.
Noah LaPointe: Of course you agree with Bergy. He’s your boyfriend.
Troy Barrett: Children, please take your domestic disputes to the Baby Chat we all know exists.
Luca Haas: Don’t make fun of the Baby Chat. YOU are the one who keeps calling us kids.
Troy Barrett: Touché.
Cassie Boodram: Back to Selena! Please.
Selena Chouinard: Right!
Selena Chouinard: I need everyone to understand that we built the ENTIRE narrative wrong.
Logan Young: I AM GOING TO THROW UP. EXPLAIN. NOW.
Selena Chouinard: Gonna send this as one big paragraph: So, turns out, they were “something” before Hollzy dated Rose. Roz apparently lost his mind over it. According to him, Boston was briefly terrified because he was so angry and no one knew why. And Hollzy was at some point jealous of Roz’s man whore phase, but only because it made him feel “not as important” as he thought he was. But more than anything, they were upset about the rumors people made about them/their sex lives. Especially after they were exclusive. They just wanted people to leave them alone about it. I would guess it’s because they were sleeping with each other and couldn’t exactly talk about that.
Selena Chouinard: Oh, and Roz is really protective of Rose Landry now, but said it took him a long time to stop being jealous of her.
Selena Chouinard: Ok. I’m done. 😮‍💨
Lisa Hayes: Holy? Shit? 🫠
Nick Chouinard: That’s… a lot. Give me a sec.
Logan Young: WHAT DO YOU MEAN HOLLZY CHEATED ON CAP WITH ROSE FUCKING LANDRY?!
Harris Drover: Hey! Not cheated. Don’t say that. They weren’t exclusive yet.
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): Also, we don’t even know if they were actually together. Just that they were “something.”
Zane Boodram: They were fucking rivals is what they were.
Caitlin Dykstra: But what does “something” mean? Were they sleeping together? Did they just know they were interested in each other?
Luca Haas: I don’t think I want to know. 
Noah LaPointe: I do! I want to know! 🤚
Daniel Boyle: I cannot believe you guys are still speculating about this.
Evan Dykstra: Shut up Boyle. Don’t pretend you don’t want to know as much as the rest of us.
Daniel Boyle: 👀I plead the fifth.
Wyatt Hayes: This is Canada, bitch. We don’t have the fifth.
Isla Pittman (Holmberg): No, but that’s so sad. What do you mean they were jealous over each other but weren’t together yet? 😢
Selena Chouinard: I wanted to give them a hug. 😭I don’t think I’ve ever seen Hollzy that angry before. He was so mad about the rumors people made about Roz.
Jennifer Boyle: Was he mad at you for asking?
Selena Chouinard: No. They both assured me they only said things they wanted to say and wouldn’t mind me talking about. I think the only accidental slip was the thing about being “something” before Rose came along.
Luca Haas: Shane and Rose started dating in 2016.
Cal(lum) Holmberg: HOLY FUCK CAP AND HOLLZY WERE A THING IN 2016?
Noah LaPointe: Bro I was still in high school 😭
Zane Boodram: And that’s enough for the night! Thanks for making us all feel old, kid. 👍

4. Proposal - Jennifer Boyle

Jennifer Boyle could admit that she was a hopeless romantic. Rom-coms were her favorite genre, Valentine’s Day her favorite holiday, and when she started dating Daniel, she’d warned him upfront that she expected flowers at least once a week. He had never missed a week, even when he was on the road. 

So, really, it did not come as a surprise to her that the group had assigned her the most romantic of the questions. It was probably also one of the easiest, which was assigned to her because she was currently six months into her third pregnancy. 

Typically, family days weren’t much for talking. Everyone was usually wrapped up in their own people, and aside from the occasional introduction or social media moment, everyone had their own stuff to do. This year, though, Jennifer couldn’t be on the ice with her three kids and her husband. Instead, she watched from the bench as Daniel helped the kids wobble their way around the rink.

Hollander’s parents were out of town this year, and Rozanov’s friend Svetlana worked for the Raiders now, so she couldn’t show up to “the enemy’s event.” The couple still came, but they spent most of their time drifting from group to group, chatting with everyone else’s families.

Eventually, they made their way over to the bench to talk to her. Jennifer had half expected it, especially after she’d seen them skating with the twins. The boys had told them where their mom was — had even pointed her out.

“Hello, Jennifer!” Ilya Rozanov was always the first and loudest to greet her. She had grown used to his antics over the years. More than that, she had grown fond of his antics. “How is baby Boyle?” 

Jennifer ran a hand over her bump and smiled warmly. “She’s doing great,” she said. “I’m looking forward to finally evening the numbers between boys and girls in the house again.”

Ilya threw his head back in a laugh and leaned on the board that separated them. “Is that why you decided to have a fourth?” he asked, eyebrows jumping. “Just to even numbers? What if she had been a boy?” 

Jennifer smirked at him, hand still clutched over her belly. “Then we would have had to try for twins again,” she joked. Honestly, she didn’t hate the idea of having a fifth. She loved kids, and she especially loved her own. Six, though? Six made her want to scream. They would have to buy a fucking bus just to get around town. They were definitely stopping after five. “But we’d have to pray they were twin girls that time.”

Ilya let out a low whistle, eyes wide in exaggerated horror. “Is too many,” he declared. “Shane and I are stopping at two.” 

“Stopping at two what?” Shane asked as he skated up next to his husband. He turned to Jennifer with a small, polite smile and nodded in greeting. He had always been a little awkward, and he never fully warmed up. “It’s nice to see you, Jen.” 

Maybe it was pregnancy hormones, but Jennifer couldn’t help but beam at him. Only her dearest friends called her Jen, and it was nice to add Shane Hollander to that list after nearly two years of shared arenas, birthday parties, and long playoff runs.

“Likewise,” she said softly, and she meant it. 

“Two babies,” Ilya answered. He leaned over as if gravity demanded it and pressed a sloppy kiss to Shane’s cheek. “We are stopping at two babies. And they will be two years apart.” 

Jennifer laughed at the couple, a little disbelieving. “Wow. You really have this whole thing planned out.”

Although she would suppose they had to. It wasn’t like they could get each other pregnant. They did have to plan it all out — especially if they wanted to go the surrogate route, which it certainly sounded like they did. 

She wondered if they already had surrogates picked out. Jennifer didn’t hate being pregnant, and she was half-Japanese just like Shane was. Maybe in a few years, after a few Stanley Cups and a while without a baby in her body, she would offer to be a surrogate for them.

Of course, she’d have to talk to Daniel first. And that was all assuming they hadn’t already lined someone up. Rose Landry seemed like a good enough friend that they might ask her to do it. 

“We’ve had it planned since before we were married,” Shane offered with a shrug.

That was wise, Jennifer thought. She’d heard horror stories of SAPs who found out after marriage that their visions of the future didn’t exactly align with their hockey-player husbands’.

“Actually,” Shane added, glancing at Ilya with a smirk he rarely wore in public, “I think he had it planned before we were even engaged.”

At this point, Jennifer was convinced they had spies in the group chat. There was no way they kept handing out these easy openings by accident. But if they did have spies, they clearly weren’t trying to steer them away from the topic. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard your engagement story,” Jennifer said, aiming for casual and probably failing. Sue her. She was pregnant. She was allowed to be obvious. “How did Ilya propose?” 

Shane’s brow furrowed for a second as he looked at her. Not angry, just… confused. Really fucking confused. She watched his eyes flick between hers, watched his mouth open and close again as he tried to process the question.

“He didn’t,” he said eventually. 

And now Jennifer was confused. They got engaged — got married — but there hadn’t been a proposal? That didn’t even make sense!

Ilya cleared his throat and rocked back and forth on his skates. “Shane proposed.”

Oh.

Oh shit. 

It had genuinely never occurred to her that Shane might’ve been the one to do it. Shane, who barely raised his voice and hated attention. Shane, who looked uncomfortable when people sang him Happy Birthday.

A proposal just seemed like a very Ilya thing to do. He loved being dramatic. He loved being sappy. And he loved Shane Hollander-Rozanov. It seemed exactly his forte: grand gestures, long speeches, maybe fireworks.

“I didn’t realize,” she mumbled, now slightly embarrassed. The couple smiled at each other softly, seemingly not too offended by her fumble. That was good, at least. “So, how did it happen?” 

Shane looked back at her, and his smile hadn’t faded. “Well, I proposed, but it was kind of Ilya’s idea,” he admitted. “When we first started dating officially, he told me he was going to propose on the dock at our cottage with a hundred candles.” 

Ilya hummed in agreement, slipping an arm around Shane’s waist with an easy familiarity. They always seemed to drift back into each other like that. “Was very romantic,” he said with a shrug. “Too bad it was too cold for you to do outside.” 

Shane leaned into Ilya as much as he could while still on the ice. “Well, I still got the candles,” he sighed. For just a second, his smile faltered. “It was right after the plane incident.” 

Jennifer felt the familiar chill crawl up her spine at the mention of it. She had never been so terrified in her life. Even now, her chest tightened every time the team got on a plane, which was almost every week. 

“I saw the news and I just… I needed him. Forever.” Shane swallowed hard. He turned his eyes back to Ilya, and without hesitation leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was soft and chaste. Nothing anyone should turn an eye at, and yet Jennifer couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen them do something that openly tender in public. “So I took his proposal idea and raced to his house. Set everything up before he got there. I proposed as soon as he walked in the door.” 

“I said yes, obviously,” Ilya added with a nod. “Was a perfect proposal. I know because it was my idea.” 

Shane rolled his eyes as he pulled away. “Alright, asshole. You weren’t complaining at the time.”

Jennifer suddenly felt the overwhelming, stupidly embarrassing urge to cry. Pregnancy hormones. Surely that’s all it was.

“That’s a really beautiful story,” she practically whimpered, voice wobbling despite her best efforts.

Ilya grinned proudly and attached himself to his husband’s back like superglue had stuck him there. “Of course! I have beautiful husband,” he exclaimed. He pressed several exaggerated, obnoxious kisses to the back of Shane’s neck while tugging him away from the boards. “We will be back in fifteen minutes to talk to you more. We have to go see Milo Boodram.” 

Shane rolled his eyes as he was dragged across the ice, but he didn’t make any effort to escape. “We’ll be back to check on you,” he called over his shoulder. “Yell if you need anything before then, Jen.”

She waved them off and didn’t bother them again until they came back around exactly fifteen minutes later. She already had everything she needed. Though, if they happened to bring her a Sprite from the vending machine, she wouldn’t complain too much. 

🔐The Truth 🔐

Jennifer Boyle: We were wrong again.
Daniel Boyle: Again?!
Zane Boodram: Ohhh so who’s invested now? 🤨
Evan Dykstra: Remember when you said it was silly, Boyle? 🧐
Daniel Boyle: Shut up. My wife got invested, so now I’m invested.
Cassie Boodram: What were we wrong about this time?
Jennifer Boyle: Roz didn’t propose. Hollzy did.
Lisa Hayes: WHAT?! 🤯
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): I did not see that coming actually.
Isla Pittman (Holmberg): Me neither
Caitlin Dykstra: What else did they say????
Jennifer Boyle: I will tell you, BUT it has to do with the Traumatic Thing™️, so if you don’t want to hear about that, leave now.
Harris Drover: I don’t care anymore, tell us.
Evan Dykstra: We’ve all had mandated therapy about it.
Wyatt Hayes: I think we’re all good.
Logan Young: WE DON’T CARE ABOUT THE PLANE TELL US ABOUT THE PROPOSAL
Troy Barrett: Still too excited about it, kid.
Logan Young: SHUT UP BARRETT. 🤬 I’LL TELL HOLLZY YOU HAD A CRUSH ON HIM.
Troy Barrett: So did you!
Logan Young: SHUT. UP.
Noah LaPointe: Okay.. so, Young’s gay awakening aside… 😶
Noah LaPointe: What about the plane?
Luca Haas: Why is this team so gay?
Selena Chouinard: Don’t be homophobic.
Nick Chouinard: No, babe, Haasy is one of them.
Selena Chouinard: Oh my bad. Carry on. 🏳️‍🌈
Jennifer Boyle: Okay! Hollzy proposed after the plane. He said he realized he wanted Roz forever and he just did it.
Cassie Boodram: Awww 🥹that’s adorable.
Isla Pittman (Holmberg): They set the bar for romance wayyyy too high. 🙄
Cal(lum) Holmberg: Okay no one read into that like I am.
Noah LaPointe: Too late, we’re gonna FLAME you in the baby chat.
Cal(lum) Holmberg: fuck.
Jennifer Boyle: But he took Roz’s proposal idea.
Daniel Boyle: No he didn’t! Omg Hollzy PLEASE
Evan Dykstra: Remember when you thought we were “too invested?” 🧐
Daniel Boyle: SHUT UP 🖕
Jennifer Boyle: I guess Roz told him when they first started dating that he was going to propose on a dock with a hundred candles.
Jennifer Boyle: So Hollzy proposed with a hundred (electric) candles. In their living room because it was too cold outside.
Jennifer Boyle: He drove from Montreal so that he beat Roz home after that trip. Proposed the second they saw each other.
Wyatt Hayes: Roz did miss that next practice
Wyatt Hayes: And showed up with his ring the next time he showed his face. 👀
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): Omg that’s so sweet! 🥰
Zane Boodram: Hold on I need a minute to process how sickeningly in love they are.
Cassie Boodram: LMAO ZANE IS CRYING 💀💀
Zane Boodram: No I’m not!
Cassie Boodram: Don’t listen to him. He is literally crying on the couch next to me.
Noah LaPointe: Well now I want to know how long they’ve been together. How do they know each other that well?
Troy Barrett: Every time I think I’m done learning shocking things about them, they get fucking cuter and it SUCKS.
Troy Barrett: I don’t want them to be cute! They’re not supposed to be cute!
Harris Drover: Unfortunately, hon, I think they will only get cuter now that they can be public.
Luca Haas: At least we know our dads will never get divorced.
Logan Young: Amen 🙌

5. Sex and Attraction - Cassie Boodram and Lisa Hayes

It made perfect sense to send in Cassie and Lisa as the last two SAPs. Not only were they the boldest, but they were arguably the closest to the couple. If anyone could get answers to the raunchy, deeply personal, slightly unhinged questions sitting in the group chat, it was them. The questions were bold, intimate, a little inappropriate. Just like Cassie and Lisa.

There was a very good chance the couple would flat-out refuse to answer some of these questions, which would have been fine. Or, well, Shane would refuse. They all knew Ilya would answer almost anything, as long as he had Shane’s blessing and no one asked him to say a single bad word about his husband.

Cassie and Zane were hosting another barbecue right before playoffs started. One last hurrah before everyone collectively lost their minds for two months. They did this every year the team made the playoffs… so only the last three years. But Cassie wouldn’t bring that up. Not today, at least. 

Lisa had been sitting with Shane and Ilya for a while now, as the other party-goers walked around or played with the kids and dogs. A few hours in, about half the team had started drinking. The other half had sworn off alcohol until the Cup was in their hands. An even split, with each side silently judging the other. 

Cassie joined the trio after dropping her husband off to play sewer ball with Dykstra and Chouinard. She handed a glass of wine to Lisa before she sat down. Ilya had been nursing the same beer for nearly an hour and a half. Shane, predictably, was sticking to ginger ale.

“So,” Cassie began with a loud sigh. “You know we have to ask you questions.” 

It had been too many months at this point, and she knew Shane and Ilya had figured out the plan with the SAPs. They’d definitely figured out Caitlin and Isla during that very first conversation, and it was naïve to think they hadn’t connected the dots about the rest of them by now.

Lisa snorted, swatting Cassie’s thigh as she laughed. “Real subtle, babe.” Lisa and Cassie had been best friends ever since Wyatt got traded to the team. They did all the WAG things together until the acronym changed to SAP, and now they did all of those things together as well. “But she’s right. We were given a list. It’s very detailed.” 

Shane chuckled to himself as he leaned back against his husband’s chest. “At least you two are honest about it,” he said. “I was starting to think you guys thought we were stupid.” 

Ilya tightened his hold around Shane’s waist with a hum. “Many concussions, but not stupid yet.” 

Lisa set her wine on the table and clapped her hands together once, decisively. “Alright. Let’s get into it.” Her eyes flicked to Shane. “How the fuck did you lock down Ilya Rozanov?”

That was a big question in the group. Not because Ilya was out of Shane’s league or anything — he definitely wasn’t — but because Ilya, for lack of a better word, was a whore. Had been for years before he moved to Ottawa. Most people still couldn’t wrap their heads around the complete 180. 

Shane practically giggled at the question, shaking his head. “I didn’t.” 

Ilya laughed too, but didn’t offer his own answer. He didn’t really need to. Everyone had noticed the way he looked at Shane. Hayden Pike had dubbed it heart-eyes, and it was hard to argue with that assessment, even if it physically pained them to agree with a Metro. 

Cassie frowned. She tipped her wine glass between the two of them like an accusation. “What does that mean?” she demanded. “He’s obviously not sleeping around anymore, so you obviously did something.”

Shane shrugged and took a sip from his can. “I never asked him to stop,” he said calmly. “He chose to. And then we got together a few months later.” 

This time, Ilya had something to add. “When I realized nothing else felt like Shane, I stopped trying,” he explained. It all sounded very casual, which it definitely wasn’t. “When I realized he felt the same, I was glad I stopped.” 

The women stared for a second, blinking in shock. Shane didn’t even have to ask? Ilya just decided and hoped Shane felt the same? He just hoped they’d become exclusive? 

What the fuck kind of dark magic did Shane Hollander have? 

Cassie leaned forward so far that she almost tumbled off her seat. “Follow-up question,” she said quickly. “Ilya, how did you get Shane Hollander interested in you?”

Maybe that was the question they should’ve started with. It was obvious that Ilya would want Shane. He slept with a lot of people, and Shane was objectively hot. It was less obvious why the Golden Boy of Hockey would want to risk everything to sleep with his rival. 

Ilya laughed loudly behind his husband, proud as he leaned in to playfully bite Shane’s shoulder. “I was very attractive, very annoying, and very persistent,” he answered. It was still kind of vague, but it was more information than they’d had before. 

It was a lot more, actually: Ilya pursued Shane. Not the other way around. 

Had they gotten anything right about this relationship?

“So when did you first realize?” Lisa asked. She was well aware that this question was walking the edge of a timeline question, and they all knew that was something they were not getting answers to. “That you were attracted to each other, that is.” 

“The first time we saw each other, probably,” Ilya answered with a shrug. “Does not mean we acted on it, just that we knew.” 

Shane knocked his head back against Ilya’s chest softly. “Maybe,” he agreed quietly. “But mostly I just thought you were an asshole.” 

“You were the first person who joked with me,” Ilya murmured into the side of Shane’s head.

He looked so hopelessly besotted with his husband, it was almost indecent. It would have been, maybe, if it was anyone else. They were practically tangled together on the loveseat.

“Everyone else got mad at my chirps,” Ilya continued. “On ice. In locker room. They thought I was serious.” He nudged his nose against Shane’s hair. “But you… you played along. I say, ‘Keep up,’ you say, ‘Eat my dust.’ I say, ‘I will win,’ you say, ‘Not a chance.’ I say, ‘Fuck you,’ you say ‘Harder.’” 

“O–kay!” Shane reached back and clapped a hand over Ilya’s mouth. He’d turned slightly red at the last comment, but not nearly as red as he would have gone a year ago. He was comfortable now. “But yes, I knew from the first time we met that your chirping was meant to be fun. Most of it is harmless. You just don’t know when to stop.” 

Lisa smiled at them, picking up her wine from the table to take a sip. She really did love them together — loved being friends with them, loved watching whatever this was unfold in real time.

“So… all the rivalry stuff,” she started cautiously. “That was just foreplay?” 

Ilya snorted. Shane immediately hid his face and muttered something that sounded a lot like oh my god. He wasn’t that comfortable yet.

“In some way, yes,” Ilya said. He was very obviously enjoying this, but probably only because it was making his husband squirm. “We always want to beat each other. Makes us play better, but sometimes it was fun for other reasons.” 

Shane squirmed harder in Ilya’s arms, but didn’t get very far from Ilya’s tight grip on him. “I cannot believe you are telling people this,” he grumbled, but made no further protest. 

Ilya apologized silently with a kiss on his husband’s cheek, but made no effort to end the conversation. Actually, he motioned for the women to continue like he was having a great time.

Cassie leaned back in her seat, blowing out a long breath as she considered the next question. “Listen, you know they want me to ask this, and I want you to know that you can tell me to fuck off if you don’t want to answer,” she said. Honestly, she was hesitant to ask this. It felt too personal. More personal than the others. “How do you decide who… tops between you two?” 

Shane finally lifted his head. He didn’t look offended. If anything, he just looked genuinely baffled. “What do you mean ‘decide?’”

Luckily, Lisa seemed to have the rest of this covered. Some of the guys had asked some truly imaginative questions. “Like, is it based on who scored more goals that game? Or who feels like it that night?” She took a sip of her wine. “Harris says most gay couples switch, so people got curious.”

There was a unison scoff from the couple, and Ilya’s eyebrows raised. “We did not have to decide,” he said with a smirk. “Is obvious, no?” 

Cassie Boodram would like to think she was a very open-minded, calm, and collected woman. She married and lived with a hockey player. She had a toddler. She had survived sleep deprivation, trade rumors, and locker-room drama. God herself could descend from the heavens and smite her, and Cassie Boodram would find a way to live through it. 

That being said, she was fucking blushing at that implication. 

Lisa, who was apparently a stronger woman than Cassie — probably the Doctor side of her that had compartmentalized this whole thing as biologically normal — leaned forward to ask follow-ups. “So you never switch? Shane is always the bottom?” 

“I mean, yeah.” Shane shrugged. His cheeks were still flushed, and he’d all but burrowed into his husband’s chest, but he didn’t seem panicked. Not like he used to be about these topics. “We know what we like, and we’re good at it. Neither of us has really felt the need to change things.”

“Ever?” Cassie yelled.

It drew the attention of a few people nearby, but they turned away as soon as they realized who had yelled and, predictably, why. Hell, even Cassie switched things up in the bedroom sometimes. She’d pegged her husband more than once. She couldn’t imagine never being curious.

“That doesn’t get boring?” she demanded, mostly for her own peace of mind.

“Sometimes Ilya wants my fingers,” Shane answered, still not seeming to understand how unhinged that sounded to her. “But he’s never really wanted to bottom, and I’ve never been inclined to top.” 

“We switch things up in other ways,” Ilya added. “We have toys, we try positions, different rooms. Is never boring. My husband is… very sexy. Have you seen him? I am not suffering.” 

“You love boring. You married boring,” Shane argued. Which was probably true because they had all heard Ilya call him boring more than once. “But he’s right. About our sex life not being boring. If something changes, we’ll talk about it. If we want something different, we’ll say so. For now, we’re happy with what we do.”

“How did you know you were going to be compatible like that?” Lisa asked. She was more invested in this than either woman originally thought she was going to be. She had asked questions that weren’t even on the list. “Like, what if you showed up, and you were both tops? Or both bottoms? How did you know that was going to work?” 

Gossip was a long-standing and deeply cherished SAP tradition. They usually knew exactly what they were doing with it. Still, even they could hear the edge of eagerness in Lisa’s voice now, the way it tipped from curious into a little too much. 

But Ilya didn’t seem to mind. He just smirked and tightened his hold on Shane. “He liked to be told what to do,” he said simply. 

Shane kicked his foot into his husband’s shin. “Shut up, Ilya.” 

Somehow, that worked. Ilya leaned back on the loveseat and sipped his beer. He seemed perfectly content to leave the conversation there. Cassie had a sudden, unfortunate flash of a term she’d skimmed on Google while preparing for this whole ordeal: power bottom. 

Oh. Okay. 

It made sense after all. 

Cassie took a long sip of her drink. She didn’t look at Shane. No one asked another question.

🔐The Truth 🔐

Noah LaPointe: Cassie. Lisa.
Noah LaPointe: We all saw you guys talking to Roz and Hollzy at the bbq yesterday. 👀
Logan Young: Anything to share, ladies?
Luca Haas: I still don’t think we should be talking about their sex life.
Evan Dykstra: Shut up, rook. We’re past the point of no return.
Luca Haas: I haven’t been a rookie in years. I am a grown man.
Logan Young: BOO! 🍅🍅I wanna know!
Cassie Boodram: We asked some questions. We got some answers.
Lisa Hayes: I honestly don’t know where to start.
Luca Haas: With something NOT about their sex life!
Logan Young: BOOOOO! 🍅🍅
Lisa Hayes: Well, they said they were attracted to each other the first time they saw each other.
Lisa Hayes: Although Shane said his first impression was that Ilya was an asshole.
Noah LaPointe: LMAO💀
Troy Barrett: No, his instincts were correct. He should’ve stuck to that.
Harris Drover: But then they wouldn’t be married!
Cassie Boodram: I’m pretty sure they’re married BECAUSE Ilya is an asshole.
Cassie Boodram: He said Shane was the first person who actually understood his chirping. First person he could really have fun with on the ice.
Isla Pittman (Holmberg): That makes a lot of the stuff they told me about hockey make a lot more sense actually.
Cal(lum) Holmberg: I don’t normally get sappy but I’m hungover so:
Cal(lum) Holmberg: THAT’S SO SWEET???? THEY HAVE FUN TOGETHER?? THEY WERE THE FIRST PEOPLE WHO LET EACH OTHER HAVE FUN ON THE ICE??? 😭😭😭
Zane Boodram: Fucking hell we broke Bergy.
Luca Haas: It was bound to happen. He’s weak.
Wyatt Hayes: GODDAMN HAASY 😆
Noah LaPointe: Brutal. That was murder by blunt force trauma to his pride.
Evan Dykstra: Who the hell taught the rook how to chirp? 🤣
Luca Haas: Still not a rookie!
Luca Haas: Also Roz keeps calling himself my dad, so…🤷‍♂️
Troy Barrett: Well now we know why, goddamn. 😮‍💨
Wyatt Hayes: What else did you guys learn?
Lisa Hayes: The rivalry was foreplay.
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): Figures.
Cal(lum) Holmberg: EW 🤢
Noah LaPointe: 🤮EWWWWWW!
Logan Young: I’ll never see them the same.
Troy Barrett: How did you not figure this out already?
Caitlin Dykstra: Did you ask how they figure out who tops? Is it stats-based? I have money on this.
Daniel Boyle: WHY do you have money on this?
Caitlin Dykstra: Because I’m more interesting than you.
Jennifer Boyle: He’s acting like we haven’t had this debate already.
Daniel Boyle: STOP TALKING.
Cassie Boodram: They laughed in our face at that question.
Lisa Hayes: They said it was obvious. Shane is always the bottom. They never switch.
Harris Drover: NEVER?! 🤯
Troy Barrett: Jesus Christ.
Troy Barrett: Harris just shrieked into my ear and I can’t even blame him because NEVER?!
Cassie Boodram: Correct.
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): I guess if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. 🤷‍♀️
Lisa Hayes: They basically said the same thing. They just don’t have any desire to switch it up.
Cal(lum) Holmberg: I mean, it’s not like straight people switch it up.
Cassie Boodram: Oh you sweet summer child.
Cal(lum) Holmberg: … 🤨
Cal(lum) Holmberg: wut?
Zane Boodram: Honey, that’s enough talking for now. 😊
Nick Chouinard: LMAO BOOD GOT PEGGED💀
Zane Boodram: STOP.
Noah LaPointe: Nothing to be ashamed of, king 💪
Cal(lum) Holmberg: WHAT?
Logan Young: Has EVERYONE on this team had something in their ass except me and Bergy?! 😧
Selena Chouinard: Probably.
Zane Boodram: NICK YOU FUCKING HYPOCRITE.
Luca Haas: I told you not to go digging into their sex life.
Luca Haas: But do you listen to me?
Luca Haas: No. No you don’t.
Isla Pittman (Holmberg): Personally I find this conversation very enlightening.
Logan Young: Good luck, Bergy. 🫡
Harris Drover: I thought their sex life would be wild tbh
Cassie Boodram: Ilya was insistent that it’s not boring.
Cassie Boodram: He said they use toys. And also switch rooms and positions to spice things up. He would not describe it as boring.
Lisa Hayes: And Shane said they’re very “good” at what they like. So no complaints from either of them. 🙃
Cassie Boodram: Also the most shocking discovery was that Ilya pursued Shane.
Cassie Boodram: He stopped sleeping around before they were official because he just hoped Shane felt the same way.
Lisa Hayes: Oh yeah, Ilya said he was very hot, very annoying, and very persistent. But essentially it was Ilya who stopped sleeping around because no one else ever made him feel the way Shane did.
Wyatt Hayes: WHAT???
Jennifer Boyle: I’M SORRY?
Noah LaPointe: DAD DID WHAT NOW?
Luca Haas: Not even I could have seen that coming.
Troy Barrett: WHAT?!
Harris Drover: ILYA CHASED SHANE!?
Selena Chouinard: ILYA ROZANOV? PURSUED SHANE HOLLANDER?
Evan Dykstra: VERY ANNOYING AND VERY PERSISTENT???
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): Damn.
Logan Young: HUH?
Isla Pittman (Holmberg): I WOULD NOT HAVE GUESSED
Nick Chouinard: I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS!
Zane Boodram: ROZ IS WHIPPED. HE’S BEEN WHIPPED THE WHOLE TIME.
Caitlin Dykstra: I FEEL CRAZY
Daniel Boyle: I WILL NOW ADMIT THAT I’M INVESTED AND I NEED THE TIMELINE.
Cal(lum) Holmberg: HOLLZY DIDN’T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING? ROZ CHASED HIM? HOLLZY JUST HAD TO LOOK GOOD AND ROZ STOPPED BEING A SLUT FOR HIM?
Lisa Hayes: So in hindsight, maybe we should not have shared this. I think my phone is about to explode. 

+1 Timeline - The Team 

It happened in the locker room.

Game Seven of the Stanley Cup Finals was two days away, and the Cup was in their grasp. The goalie from Colorado had been injured in Game Five, and their starting center had gone down that night in Game Six. 

The Centaurs didn’t need the advantage to win the Cup, but they had it. And they were going into the last game with one hell of a leg up. They knew they were going to win. They had gotten so confident that they didn’t even mind jinxing themselves. And they were going to win on home ice, which made it even sweeter.  

Colorado was limping into Game Seven. The Centaurs were not.

“I’m going to Disney World,” Wyatt said with a grin. “That’s what people say after the Super Bowl in the U.S., right? I’ve never been. Lisa and I want to do the Avengers stuff.”

That earned some good-natured ribbing about him being a nerd, but none of them could argue with the logic. Bood even said he’d consider going just to “drink around the world” at EPCOT. Some of the guys were swayed by that. By the time someone floated the idea of turning it into a full team “family trip,” it was already gaining momentum.

Bergy threw his glove into his bag and started bouncing on the balls of his feet like a kid on Christmas morning. “If we win, I’m asking Isla to marry me!” he declared. No one was surprised. He’d been talking about proposing to Isla for months. He’d had the ring for weeks. They had been together for two years — this was moving slowly, by league standards.

“Hell yeah, Bergy!” LaPointe shouted, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. “Can I be your best man, or is that going to Young?”

“Why won’t it be me?” Haas snapped, clearly offended. “I’m the one who cleaned the puke off his rug before Isla came over last month.” 

Young laughed at him as he tied his tie into knots. “Yeah, but we all know your idea of a bachelor party would be a quiet night in or a book club,” he chirped. “I’m buying a sports car to celebrate.” 

“Don’t do that,” Shane muttered from his stall. He and Ilya had been quiet for most of the night after the game, but to be fair, they were the ones who had to do press after this. They had to pretend not to be thrilled about the other team’s misfortune. They were also the only two in the room who had won the Cup before. “Sports cars are dangerous.” 

Young spluttered, half offended and half desperately trying not to piss off one half of his hockey parents. “That’s what Roz did!” he protested. “He bought his Porsche after his Cup!”

Shane dragged a hand down his very clearly exhausted face and stood to finish buttoning his shirt. “Yeah, well,” he said flatly, “Roz was also fucking his rival at nineteen, so maybe we don’t do everything Roz does.”

It took about thirty full seconds for him to realize what he’d said. He only noticed because Ilya started choking on the water he was drinking and everyone else in the room had gone silent. And not silent in the way they did right before a game — full of adrenaline and a thirst for blood. This was different. This was just… silence. 

And then it was pandemonium. 

“Nineteen?!” 

No one could place who exactly had shouted the age first. Hell, it might have been all of them. Half the room was already on their feet, and the other half had jumped onto the nearest bench just to get a better vantage point of the couple. 

“Nineteen what?”

“Nineteen years old?”

“What do you mean he was fucking his rival at nineteen?” Bood shouted over the chaos. It barely carried. The question dissolved into the noise before it ever reached Shane or Ilya.

Shane had gone a catastrophic shade of red. His ears were burning, color creeping down his neck. If anyone could see beneath his collar, they were certain his chest would be just as pink. He had buried his face in his hands, trying and failing to hide the flush at his own mistake.

Ilya had finally stood from the bench, buttoning his suit jacket in a move that seemed far too casual for the situation they were in. It took him several attempts to wrestle the room back under control.

“Alright! Alright!” he shouted. “We must go talk to press. Meet at Monks. We will explain.” 

He reached out and placed a hand on Shane’s shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze that probably didn’t do much to calm him. “I’m sorry,” Shane muttered through his fingers. “I didn’t mean to say that. I just didn’t want Young to buy a sports car.” 

“Is okay, moy lyubimyy,” he whispered.

But they both knew it wouldn’t really be okay. Not tonight. Tonight meant a bar, and too many questions, and explanations they’d successfully avoided until now.

Sure enough, the entire team was already seated at Monks by the time Shane and Ilya arrived. None of them had even changed out of their suits, and none of them had stopped to pick up their wives or partners — aside from Harris, who had already been at the rink. 

None of them had gotten a drink, Shane noticed. Either because they all knew the Cup finals were two days away, or because they wanted to be stone-cold sober for this interrogation.

Not that it mattered. Shane hadn’t planned on drinking anyway, and he would have legitimately smothered Ilya in his sleep if he tried to get drunk two days before they won the Cup. 

They took their seats silently, feeling rather like prey being stalked. All eyes were on them, and they could feel it. Like a chill down their spine or a needle in their shoe. 

Ilya took Shane’s hand and then, gently, took the lead. Shane was still reeling from his own spectacular flub, and Ilya knew it.

“Okay. You will raise your hand like at school. You only ask questions if I call on you. Understand?” he asked. The entire team nodded at their captain eagerly, and he let out a long breath before pointing to his first interrogator. “Bood.” 

“What the hell do you mean nineteen?” Bood asked without hesitation. It was like the question was waiting to be released from a cage. Feral. “That was thirteen years ago!” 

Ilya nodded and ran his thumb over Shane’s wedding ring, grounding them both. “Yes. Was thirteen years ago when we hooked up for first time,” he answered honestly. 

They hadn’t discussed how much of their timeline to share until the drive over. Until now, it had always belonged only to them. Not because they didn’t trust the team. Not because they’d planned to keep it secret forever. They just… wanted it to be theirs for a while.

And it had been.

That beginning had been fragile once. Private. Just two nineteen-year-olds trying to figure it out. And eventually, it became less fragile. Less private.

They’d been out for three years. Married for two and a half. They had kept it to themselves for that long. And after this, it would still belong to them. It still wouldn’t be public. The circle of people who knew would just widen a little bit. 

And that was okay. They had decided, somewhere between the rink and Monks, that it was okay. 

Shane pointed out the next teammate. “Chouinard,” he said. “Choose your question carefully because we’re not giving you another.” 

Nick nodded slowly and then thought for a long time. Long enough that a few of the others started to fidget.

“Was it the whole time?” he finally asked. “Like consistently since you were nineteen?” 

Shane and Ilya looked at each other for a second, not saying anything. One of their wordless conversations — the same way they spoke silently on the ice, or at parties, or in bars.

“More or less,” Shane answered. “Ilya tried to break it off in 2014, I tried in 2016, but obviously that didn’t work. We ended up back together anyway.” 

There was a collective huff from the team. Slightly surprised and still understanding. Maybe the fact that they were on-and-off was the least startling part of all this. To be fair, they barely understood their own timeline. It was impressive that they managed to keep track of it all.

“Dykstra,” Ilya called out next.

They hadn’t discussed taking turns answering, but they fell into it naturally. Fifty-fifty. Like their relationship. Like their marriage. Even.

“So were you… together that whole time?” he asked sheepishly. “Did you drive to each other or just meet up when you could or–” 

“Not until 2017,” Ilya cut him off. He didn’t like thinking about the years before that. About how much they’d wasted trying not to want each other. The years he’d swallowed his feelings for Shane. The years Shane had done the same. He was grateful for them, always would be, but it still hurt sometimes. “We became official in 2017. Until then, was casual. Met after games we played against each other, at All-Stars, at awards. When it was… easy.” 

“Convenient,” Shane offered instead, because he knew that was the word Ilya was actually looking for. “We met when it was convenient, but we always made it hard on ourselves. Never admitted what it was. Always pretended it wasn’t going to happen again.” He huffed softly. “I didn’t even let Ilya into my actual house until 2017. Before that, we were using my investment property.”

“You were paranoid,” Ilya joked, and Shane didn’t really have an argument for that. He had been paranoid.

They could see some of the team doing the math. Seven years. It took seven years of hooking up before they made it anything close to official. Before Shane brought Ilya home. Before the two of them admitted to being anything more than rivals who got each other off. 

It might have been sad, if it hadn’t also been necessary. If it hadn’t led them here. 

Shane took a slow, steadying breath and leaned into Ilya before calling out the next name. “Boyle.” 

“What happened? Those two times you tried to call it off?” he asked. Boyle’s questions were always like that. Direct, whether it was hockey or relationships. “2016 was Rose Landry, right?” 

Shane nodded. He wasn’t embarrassed about Rose. He loved her dearly. Without her, there wouldn’t be an Ilya. But he was embarrassed about why he’d run to her in the first place.

“Yeah, in 2016 something changed between us,” he said quietly. If the rest of the group wasn’t absolutely silent, he doubted they would have heard him. “Ilya asked me to stay over for the first time. We ate a real meal together. It felt like something, and I knew that wasn’t possible, so I ran.” He glanced down at his hands. It wasn’t the sleepover that had scared him — it was the wanting to stay. “I met Rose a few months later. I did really like her. Just… not like that.”

That, at least, explained why they were still friends. He could practically feel a few follow-up questions dying in people’s throats.

That afternoon, in 2016, they had crossed a line they both pretended didn’t exist. It stopped being casual, and Shane wasn’t ready. He panicked.

“2014 was when I noticed it was different with Shane,” Ilya said. There had been a lot happening that year. Shane had forgiven him, but Ilya still struggled with the version of himself he’d been back then. “Was also Olympics. I knew I cared about him. And I knew I couldn’t afford to in Russia.” His jaw tightened slightly. “We did not speak for months. I was too scared.”

The silence from their teammates lasted much longer this time. Somehow, in this bar, you could hear a pin drop. Shane noticed there were no other patrons inside, and he wondered if one of their teammates had somehow rented it for the night when they got there. 

Twice. They had broken up twice, for the exact same reason. The simple fear that it had become real. 

“Hazy,” Ilya called. “Ask something, please.” 

Wyatt shifted in his seat, looking around at their teammates. Suddenly, he felt a lot of pressure to ask the right question. He’d noticed a lot of things as a goalie over the years, trained himself to read chaos and patterns, but right now he felt adrift in the middle of the fucking ocean.

“Why did you run from it?” he asked, as blunt as possible. He would regret it later, after he got the answer. 

“Because we thought we were alone,” Ilya said. That was simply it. There were other factors, of course. They had probably known, somewhere deep down, that there had to be other queer players. But no one was out. Not then. “No one had come out yet. I still had ties to Russia, where it was — is illegal to love Shane out loud. We had no option.” 

Scott had changed things. For them. For a lot of people. For some of the people sitting at this table. But that was a different story, and not one they planned on sharing. 

“Alright, Bergy, I can see you vibrating in your seat.” Shane managed a smile in the younger player’s direction. He was excitable, but practically the heart of the team at this point. “What do you want to ask?” 

Callum Holmberg practically jumped out of his seat and clapped his hands the second he was called on. “Who said ‘I love you’ first?” he demanded. “Isla and I have literally argued about this.”

Ilya let out a loud, unrestrained laugh and slung an arm around Shane’s shoulders for the first time since arriving. It was nice to have an easier question. A lighter one. It finally felt like they could relax. 

“Ilya said it first,” Shane replied. He knew the answer was more complicated than just that, but he let it sit for a moment.

There was an outraged cry from some of the team, each of them calling Ilya some variation of down bad. That part, at least, wasn’t news. What they didn’t know was—

“He said it in Russian a few months before he said it in English,” Shane continued. “Over the phone while he was in fucking Moscow.” He shook his head, still disbelieving at his own damn story. “I had no idea what he’d said. Then, a few months later, we became official. He said it in English, and that was when I finally got to say it back.”

“Ilya, no you didn’t!” Harris shouted, absolutely horrified by the information. “What were you thinking? What is wrong with you?” 

Ilya pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the team’s head of communications. “I will answer,” he said evenly, “but that counts as your question.”

Harris gave half an outcry before realizing he didn’t really have anything better to ask. He just nodded and accepted the terms.

“I was thinking that I was in Russia for my father’s funeral, and for some reason I only wanted Shane,” Ilya said.

The room went very, very still. It had been league news when Ilya’s father died. He had disappeared from Boston, out of the game for nearly two weeks. They remembered.

“I had Sveta with me. Family. But I did not want to talk to them. I wanted Shane.” His voice stayed steady, but his hands were clenched in his lap. “We started calling while I was gone. Every day. I looked forward to hearing his voice.” He took a deep breath, but it didn’t feel like enough. “So when he told me to get everything off my chest in Russian, even though he could not understand, just so he could be the person who listened to me… I thought I will only ever love him like this. No one else. And I thought maybe no one else would ever love me like that. He listened to me. He let me cry over the phone in my language and asked how else he could help. So I said it out loud.” 

People were crying — Harris was crying. But Harris cried about everything, so it hardly counted. But the others… well, that seemed to mean something. 

Shane knew, in theory, that the way he loved Ilya was singular. Sometimes it felt like his heart might burst from how much he loved him. His heart beat for Ilya, and only Ilya. He knew, just as surely, that Ilya’s heart answered in kind.

But now, as he looked at his overly-emotional teammates, as he told their story, he wondered if anyone else in the world loved each other like he and Ilya did. 

The scope of it felt absurd. No one ever seemed to understand the depth of it. He had told people to compare it to how they felt about their own partners, and that never seemed sufficient enough. And maybe that was arrogant — to think he loved his husband more fiercely than anyone had loved before — but that’s what it felt like. 

“Barrett,” Shane said quickly, before he could start crying himself. He was pretty sure they could hear the shake in his voice anyway. He didn’t trust himself to look at Ilya just yet. “You have a question?” 

Troy stared down at his hands, pulling at his fingers. He’d known the longest — or at least, he’d suspected long before anyone else had. Ilya had never confirmed it, but he’d never denied it either. And silence, in this case, hadn’t felt like denial.

“How did you know you loved each other?” Troy asked softly. He ignored the gentle ribbing from the guys around him. Their teasing was half-hearted at best — they wanted to know too. “And when?” 

Shane took a deep breath as Ilya rested his hand on Shane’s thigh and squeezed. They had talked about this, of course. Years ago. They talked about the moment they fell in love versus the moment they acknowledged it. The moment they got scared of it. 

That didn’t make it easier. How different their timelines were. How much time it felt like they wasted by running away from something they were never going to escape. 

And they knew that acknowledging it sooner wouldn’t have changed anything — not until Scott came out, at least — but that didn’t mean it didn’t ache. It always would, in that quiet, bittersweet way. 

Sometimes Shane wondered what it would have been like if they were both braver back then. But there was no alternate timeline where they would have worked sooner. Loving Ilya had always felt like standing a little too close to the fire: warm, and dangerous, and impossible not to reach for.

In the end, they’d still found each other. That was all that mattered.

“There are different answers,” Shane said finally.

It was complicated. Too complicated to fully explain, even if he wanted to try. Explaining it to Ilya had been hard enough.

“I knew in early 2016. We were taking a shower after… after.” He cleared his throat, convincing himself half-heartedly that the men sitting in front of him already knew about his sex life and he did not need to be embarrassed about it. “Ilya pointed at this mark on my shoulder and said, ‘This is new. What happened?’ And I just—” He sighed softly. “I just knew. He was it for me. That scared the shit out of me.”

He turned to look at Ilya, who was smiling softly back at him. Yes, Shane had known then, even if he didn’t want to. He hadn’t been ready yet.

“But I think the first time I realized it was different was Sochi. 2014. I wouldn’t admit it then, but the whole time I just wanted to check on him. Make sure he was okay.” He had kept checking his phone while he was there, even though he kept telling himself he didn’t care. “I don’t think I would’ve cared like that if I didn’t love him.” 

Ilya trailed his hand up and down Shane’s thigh. He knew all that, of course. He had heard it before, he had asked Shane to repeat it to him.

He had been halfway falling in Sochi too. Part of him wished he had said something then. Another part of him knew it hadn’t been safe. 

“I was falling from first time I saw him, I think,” Ilya mumbled. That was true, too. Freckles and a handshake and the indescribable warmth in his chest that had scared him half to death. He had definitely started falling by the time he saw Shane in the gym after the draft. “Very early, he folded his clothes before we hooked up, and I was so… I know the word, hold on.” 

He turned his gaze to his lap and thought for a long minute. Shane had told him this word before, and if he wasn’t so wrapped up in emotions, he probably would have remembered it without the pause. As it was, his mind was swimming with so many images of Shane over the years, and he couldn’t imagine any English word that fully described how much he loved him. How much he had loved him, even back then. 

Shane leaned in close and pressed a kiss to the space between his cheek and his ear. “Endeared,” he whispered, quiet enough that no one else would hear him. “That’s the word you used before.” 

God, Ilya loved this man.

“Thank you, moy lyubimyy,” he whispered back before turning to the team again. “He folded his clothes, and I was so endeared. I couldn’t stop smiling. Was the first time sex had been so… fun.” He smiled faintly at the memory. At how light it had felt. “I knew no one else was going to make me feel like that, but it was so early, and I couldn’t have him, so I did not admit it.”

He didn’t mention that it had been the first time they hooked up. That was just for them.

“But when I noticed… it was 2014,” he continued. “After MLH Awards, I did not kiss him. I spent entire summer wishing I had, and I knew then.” He had tried to push his feelings away by not kissing Shane that night. In the end, he’d only confirmed everything he was scared of. “I would not have been sad about anyone else if we did not kiss. Was only Shane. I loved him.” 

They had spent that summer texting. Of course Ilya knew then. He barely texted his teammates, barely answered anyone at all — but he found himself waiting for Shane to light up his phone. Looking forward to it in a way that felt suspiciously like hope.

That was when Sveta first noticed that Jane wasn’t just a passing hookup. 

It was nice to know that Shane had felt the same back then, even if he hadn’t realized. It made those years feel less pathetic. 

“Young, what is your question?” Ilya asked, though somewhat reluctantly. The kid was overexcited at the best of times, and he knew this question was likely going to be out of pocket, as the kids said. 

Logan Young, unfortunately, had been preparing for this. He’d been writing down his questions for the couple in a notebook and passing it on to whatever SAP was next in the lineup. He knew exactly what he wanted his question to be tonight. “You told Cassie and Lisa that you’ve been attracted to each other since you met,” he said. “Is that when you first hooked up? Or did you wait?” 

Okay, not as bad as they thought it was going to be. 

Actually, fairly tame for Young. 

“We did not hook up the first time we met,” Ilya said. Not that he hadn’t thought about it. Of course he had. Who could look at Shane Hollander and not think about sleeping with him? Or maybe that was just an Ilya thing. “We met in 2008 at World Juniors. We spoke, he told me to stop smoking, I noticed his freckles.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He really did love those freckles. “We met again in 2009 at draft. Still did not hook up, but saw each other in the gym. Was late at night. We flirted.” 

That was a condensed version of events. The guys didn’t need to know how they had chirped each other in the handshake line, or how they had laughed together about Shane’s lingering irritation over being the second draft pick. 

They didn’t need to know that they had sought each other out at every possible opportunity. How their eyes would find each other without trying. How they had thought about each other constantly and convinced themselves it was nothing but jealousy. Rivalry. Anything other than what it really was.

Those years had been confusing. Seeing each other for two or three days and being inexplicably drawn to each other despite everyone saying they needed to hate one another. They pretended the heat between them was rivalry. They pretended the attraction was obsession. And some of that was true, but it was never the full story. 

“We hooked up in 2010,” Shane continued. That was the first time they’d given in and pretended it wouldn’t happen again. Of course, that was never an option. “This idiot started jerking off at me in the shower, and we couldn’t ignore it anymore. We hooked up that night. And after that, we just… kept doing it.” 

“You were hard in the shower,” Ilya pointed out, half argument and half teasing. Sure, Ilya was bold, and he hadn’t hidden what he wanted from Shane, but he wouldn’t have done it unprompted. “You wanted me.” 

Shane hummed and nudged his knee against Ilya’s. “I did. Even if I didn’t know what it meant at the time,” he agreed. It was easy to admit that now, knowing what he did. Back then, it hadn’t felt simple at all. “LaPointe. You have one question. Pick wisely.” 

LaPointe had been waiting patiently for his turn, but now he wasn’t sure what to ask.

He had gotten over the star-struck feeling that usually accompanied being around Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov. But that didn’t erase the fact that, before they were teammates, he had been a fan. A big fan. Like everyone else sitting at the table. He’d watched them on television before he’d ever imagined sharing a locker room with them.

Noah LaPointe knew their careers. He knew them well. He knew the years they’d played, their stats from Juniors, the time of day they were drafted, and he had watched their first games in the league.

He had been ten at the time. 

“That was before your rookie season,” he pointed out. Part of him thought he should be embarrassed by how quickly that math came to him. Right now, he couldn’t be bothered. “You were together before you ever played an MLH game?” 

The simple thought of that made everyone pause. Holy shit.

In theory, they had all pieced that together by this point in the conversation, but it was different to have it so plainly stated. They had been together before their first game. Before Boston. Before Montreal. Before Cups or MVPs or the move to Ottawa.

They’d been together the whole time. 

Ilya nodded, answering before Shane had to. “Yes,” he said simply. But it was clear that wasn’t enough, given the wide eyes and gaping mouths in front of him. “Summer before rookie season was when we started. Was casual until 2017, and then not casual anymore. You all know what happened after that.” 

Yes. They did. 

Roz moved to Ottawa. They started the charity. They became public friends. And then they were outed, and they got married, and Hollzy moved to Ottawa too. 

And all of it started in 2010. 

“Haasy. Last question,” Ilya declared. 

Luca Haas was an even bigger fan than LaPointe had admitted to being. He had posters on his walls, he’d followed their careers and social lives online, he had a Tumblr blog devoted to them.

He knew what had happened during those years. When they had seen each other in 2008 and 2009 and 2014, 2016, 2017. He knew. 

So he knew, with an almost-certainty, when their first hookup had been. If they denied it, he might have just called them liars. 

“Was it the CCM shoot?” he asked carefully. “The one right before your rookie season?”

He’d had that poster on his wall too. Maybe he would feel different about it now. Or maybe it would make it more special, knowing that was when his Hockey Dads had gotten together. It was strange to think that something so formative for him had been formative for them too.

Shane smiled to himself — small and soft, and the same way he always did when he thought about Ilya. About the things Ilya had done, quietly and stubbornly, to keep them tethered to each other all those years.

“Yes, that was the first time.” He tangled his fingers with Ilya’s again, hoping that would hold him over since he couldn’t physically crawl inside his husband’s chest. “Ilya arranged it. He was supposed to have a solo-shoot. He sold them the rivalry instead, so we could do it together. After about five hours, we started laughing at how ridiculous the whole thing was.” 

Ilya chuckled beside him at the memory. “They kept telling us to be serious,” he said. It was never going to work. After five hours, they were exhausted. They were also nineteen. Being serious was hardly something they could manage outside of a game. “But I wanted to see him again. I knew I had to, even if nothing happened.” 

Though he was glad something had happened. Very glad. It was the start of their messy story, and that was always going to mean something. Even if no one else knew — even if everyone did. 

The team was quiet for a long time, processing the information they were handed. It wasn’t easy to re-contextualize everything they thought they knew. The rivalry. The bickering. The press conferences. All of it was different now. 

After a while, there was a long exhale, and the room settled into something more comfortable. It was different to know the truth, but nothing had really changed. They were still Roz and Hollzy. Still the married couple that put the rest of their relationships to shame with how much they adored one another. 

Bood was the one who broke the silence. “Jesus,” he muttered. There was a murmur of agreement from the other guys, even Harris. None of them really knew what to say. “Roz was fucking whipped. Since 2008!” 

Maybe that was the best way to put it. 

Maybe that was the easiest answer. 

🔐The Truth 🔐

Nick Chouinard: 2010 👍
Isla Pittman (Holmberg): What?
Selena Chouinard: Nick, my love, you can’t just say a random year with no context.
Logan Young: That’s when Roz and Hollzy hooked up for the first time. 2010.
Cassie Boodram: I’m sorry WHAT?
Jennifer Boyle: 2010?!
Cal(lum) Holmberg: Trust me, we were also shocked.
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): Wouldn’t they have been like 20 in 2010?
Harris Drover: 19.
Selena Chouinard: THEY WERE HOOKING UP AT 19?!
Zane Boodram: Before their rookie season.
Caitlin Dykstra: HOW did you find this out????
Daniel Boyle: Hollzy accidentally said it in the locker room
Daniel Boyle: And then we rented out Monks and they let us ask one question each.
Isla Pittman (Holmberg): THAT’S WHY Y’ALL DIDN’T COME HOME AFTER THE GAME?
Cal(lum) Holmberg: Yes. Sorry. I meant to text you but my brain fully shut down.
Lisa Hayes: What else did they say????
Logan Young: Enough to make me rethink my entire life.
Caitlin Dykstra: THAT’S NOT AN ANSWER YOUNG! 🤬
Wyatt Hayes: Leave the kid alone. I think he’s in shock. So are the rest of us.
Lisa Hayes: Wyatt, love of my life, if you don’t start talking, we’re getting a divorce.
Evan Dykstra: Damn that’s cold.
Caitlin Dykstra: No I’m with Lisa on this one. It’s warranted.
Wyatt Hayes: Calm yourselves. It’s a lot to type. Give me a second.
Wyatt Hayes: They hooked up in 2010 for the first time at their CCM shoot. Roz arranged it because he wanted to see Hollzy again. They kept it going whenever they saw each other (games, All-Stars, Awards) until 2014, when Roz got scared and tried to break it off.
Wyatt Hayes: Then they got back together.
Wyatt Hayes: In 2016 HOLLZY got scared and tried to end it (Rose Landry).
Wyatt Hayes: But then they got back together AGAIN and made it official in 2017.
Wyatt Hayes: There. Timeline.
Noah LaPointe: But that’s not everything.
Luca Haas: I’m seriously rethinking every moment. I’m at home looking through old footage instead of preparing for the Cup game.
Zane Boodram: Pretending I didn’t read that! 😁
Cassie Boodram: Zane, I know you’re the AC, but now is not the time. 🙄
Isla Pittman (Holmberg): They were so young. That’s devastating actually.
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): What else did you learn????
Harris Drover: When they started loving each other.
Harris Drover: Which is even more sick and twisted than I could have imagined.
Troy Barrett: He means that in a good way. It’s very sweet actually. Some of us cried.
Daniel Boyle: ALL of us cried.
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): TELL US
Tessa Reed (LaPointe): Jesus you’d think some of you would know how to get to a point.
Jennifer Boyle: You’ll get used to it after a while of dating LaPointe.
Daniel Boyle: Roz realized he loved Hollzy in 2014 after they didn’t kiss and he spent all summer agonizing over it. But he said he started falling from the beginning.
Daniel Boyle: Especially after he saw Hollzy fold his clothes?? 🤨 For some reason? 🤨
Logan Young: And Hollzy said he realized in 2016 in the shower when Roz pointed out a mark on his shoulder and said it was new. But he was falling in 2014 during the Olympics in Sochi. He kept wanting to check in on Roz.
Cassie Boodram: Oh I think I’m crying.
Troy Barrett: Don’t start yet. It gets sweeter.
Nick Chouinard: Indeed it does.
Cassie Boodram: How the fuck does it get sweeter than that?
Troy Barrett: The first “I love you”
Luca Haas: You all continue to underestimate how much our captain and his husband love each other.
Luca Haas: Which is impressive because I thought we all agreed they love each other more than humanly possible.
Noah LaPointe: Agreed. 🤝
Cal(lum) Holmberg: Agreed. 🤝
Logan Young: Agreed. 🤝
Logan Young: Our Dads have a deeply stable and emotionally catastrophic relationship. Now.
Caitlin Dykstra: Boys! 👏 FOCUS.
Caitlin Dykstra: The first “I love you.”
Luca Haas: Right.
Luca Haas: Roz said it in Russian first. On the phone while he was in Moscow.
Evan Dykstra: Said that even though he was surrounded by family and his best friend, the only person he wanted was Hollzy. Called him almost every day while he was gone for his father’s funeral.
Wyatt Hayes: AND
Wyatt Hayes: Hollzy told him to get everything off his chest in Russian, even though he wouldn’t understand it. He just wanted to be the person who would listen to Roz.
Wyatt Hayes: Apparently Cap cried over the phone, realized no one else was ever going to love him that much, and confessed his love in a language Hollzy did not understand.
Tessa LaPointe: WHAT.
Harris Drover: They said it in English a few months later when they became official.
Cassie Boodram: Oh
Cassie Boodram: You were right.
Cassie Boodram: it DID get sweeter.
Cassie Boodram: I’m crying harder. I can barely see my screen.
Noah LaPointe: Before. Their. Rookie. Season.
Noah LaPointe: They had this going BEFORE their rookie season.
Logan Young: IT’S BEEN THIRTEEN YEARS 👴
Wyatt Hayes: I will never question them ever again. I think they know the secret of life.
Jennifer Boyle: Well they certainly knew something, otherwise they would’ve crashed and burned.
Zane Boodram: I don’t know. I think they would’ve figured it out regardless.
Zane Boodram: They love each other.
Harris Drover: They love each other so much it’s actually crazy.
Lisa Hayes: Well that much is obvious.
Logan Young: Case closed on Dads.
Logan Young: Not because we understand any better than before, but because I don’t think we’d be able to comprehend it even if we had a time machine to go back and watch it happen in real time.
Cal(lum) Holmberg: I second this. 🙋‍♂️
Zane Boodram: Group chat adjourned. 👨‍⚖️

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