Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, David Hollander & Shane Hollander & Yuna Hollander, Shane Hollander & Hayden Pike, Jean-Jacques Boiziau | J. J. Dagenais & Shane Hollander

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Jean-Jacques Boiziau | J. J. Dagenais, Ilya Rozanov, Hayden Pike, Yuna Hollander, David Hollander

Additional Tags:

Crack Treated Seriously, Silly, Light Angst, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Funny Shane Hollander, 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Episode: s01e06 The Cottage (Heated Rivalry), Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, POV Multiple

Language:

English

Collections:

Let Shane Be A Bitch ✨ HBIC, Subscriptions:Tracking

Stats:

Published: 2026-04-19 Updated: 2026-04-23 Words: 9,993 Chapters: 3/4

Life-Sized

Summary

Ilya does not plan to warn Shane because as much as this is about providing a weird, but thoughtful, gesture, he is also doing this to mess with Shane.

No heads up, just a box showing up at his door addressed to Jane [NoLastName] from Lily <3.

Ilya waits, follows his routine and Shane's calendar, and tries not to give anything away. The date of delivery was listed as five days after purchase, but Ilya gets a text three days after that sends him into a fit of giggles.

My Jane: What the hell is this?
 

or a 5+1 crack fic

Notes

for the sake of maximum hilarity: the cottage happened, but not david discovering them. shane and ilya are the only two people who know they're in love.

Chapter 1: ILYA

Chapter Summary

Ilya does not plan to warn Shane because as much as this is about providing a weird, but thoughtful, gesture, he is also doing this to mess with Shane.

No heads up, just a box showing up at his door addressed to Jane [NoLastName] from Lily <3.

Ilya waits, follows his routine and Shane's calendar, and tries not to give anything away. The date of delivery was listed as five days after purchase, but Ilya gets a text three days after that sends him into a fit of giggles.

My Jane: What the hell is this?

Chapter Notes

ilya pov, he started it

this chapter is a bit more emotional, but the next one is much more crack focused lol

Edit; I didn’t add the ucking Russian kololol

ILYA

While it technically starts as a joke, the idea is sparked after a rather depressing conversation Ilya has with his sad, beautiful boyfriend.

It starts with a call to Shane that he doesn't pick up. That is Ilya's first clue that there is something wrong with his boyfriend. After this past summer, Shane has done his best to always answer Ilya's calls and texts, and Ilya has made sure to return the favor. Shane had taken the initiative to share a calendar with Ilya, where all the little blocks of time they would be able to talk are listed. Ilya double checks that calendar now, frowning when he confirms that there should be about an hour of time where they can call each other this very night.

Ilya redials and listens as it rings and rings and—

"Hey," Shane greets, the exhaustion in his voice plain as day to Ilya. Shane sounds quiet on the other end, flat in a way that reminds Ilya of their conversation when he suggested marrying Svetlana for citizenship.

Ilya leans back on his couch, immediately narrowing his focus completely to Shane. "Ah, you are alive then? You do not write, you do not call..."

Shane lets out a cute little snort, the sound more alive than his greeting had been, but he says nothing in response, just keeps breathing shakily on the other side of their call.

"You are okay?" Ilya asks after a moment, brow furrowed, worry slowly creeping up his spine.

"It's been a day," Shane replies, his words slow to come out.

"Hm," Ilya hums in response, "bad one?"

"Yeah," Shane confirms, a little sigh escaping and echoing from Ilya's speaker. The exhale of air feels like it might be heavier than it sounds.

"You want to tell me why?" Ilya asks, shifting so he is laying down sprawled across his cushions. He turns his speaker phone on and lays his phone across his chest, staring up at the ceiling as he waits for Shane's reply.

There is only silence that follows for a long time. Ilya doesn't disturb the peace that has descended, simply let's Shane breathe with him like it's something they do all the time. It isn't, but maybe it could be? Ilya pictures it, phone calls that last hours, but are mostly silent. Just two people existing together in a comfortable silence.

He likes the picture it paints.

"I miss you," Shane whispers, breaking through the quiet and sending a sharp pain right through Ilya's heart. "I knew it would be different, now that we're like, together? But I don't think I realized how much."

"I miss you too, солнышко," Ilya half coos, longing coloring his own words.

Once that has been established, Shane seems to perk up some. He talks about training camp, about the new rookies and several new hires. He complains about something boring and Ilya tells him, "I would simply not let that happen to me," and Shane tells him to go fuck himself.

"No, I fuck you," Ilya insists, laughing when Shane tells him to shut up.

Their conversation turns sporadic after that, slowing down, the natural flow rising and falling as random tidbits are shared about their day, like they hadn't managed a fifteen minute call earlier this morning.

Ilya picks up his phone, scrolling through Twitter absently, letting Shane's cute little absentminded hums lull him into relaxing, when Shane finally decides to speak up.

"It's just weird," he mutters, his voice slightly muffled on his end.

Ilya waits patiently for him to continue, but when nothing comes, he asks, "What is weird?"

"Not seeing your face when I wake up."

Ilya is immediately choking up, heart swelling with affection.

"I know it was only a couple weeks, but…," Shane starts and then stops, sighing heavily, "…waking up with you every morning felt so right. Like that's how I'm supposed to wake up for the rest of my life."

Ilya is going to cry. Ilya is going to sob like a little baby because his boyfriend, who struggles to articulate his thoughts into words, decided that now was the time to be romantic. "You miss my face," Ilya sniffs, wiping away tears that Shane can't see, but can probably guess are there.

Shane allows Ilya to break the mood, laughing in response. "Yes, you asshole, I miss your stupid face."

"I understand, my face is gift," Ilya teases, turning to lay on his side, a soft smile spreading across his face. He feels no need to hide it or keep it from splitting his face open; he is alone here in his Boston home.

They say good night not long after and it leaves Ilya full of love and a devastating longing expanding in his chest. He too misses Shane like a phantom limb. Something once a part of his body that has now been surgically removed, cut off without any desire to have it gone.

He feels silly, maybe a little embarrassed, that they have only been a defined them for a few months and Ilya is already contemplating on what exactly he would be willing to give to be near Shane. He is already determined to follow though with the Ottawa plan; he wants to be closer to Shane and Ottawa is their best bet at doing that. Still, hearing that Shane seems to be feeling the same things? That maybe even with his determination to follow The Plan, he is also wishing that they could already have more.

He misses my face, Ilya thinks, sad and so in love it hurts.

The next morning Ilya is driving to practice, one hand on the wheel and another on his second McGriddle of the morning, and he is so distracted by making sure a slice of bacon doesn't escape from his sandwich that he misses his usual exit. He curses around a mouthful, checking his mirror before taking the next exit, grumbling to himself. He pauses at the light, sticky fingers tapping along to music as he waits for the light to change. He glances at the buildings around him, bored, when he feels himself visibly perk up in delight.

There, on a billboard in Boston, is Shane Hollander. It's an ad he did for Rolex, blown up and gorgeous. Ilya is grinning even as someone beeps behind him, the light having turned green while he was busy admiring his billboard boyfriend. He continues his drive and his mind starts to wander. He understands what Shane meant about seeing his face; they facetime, true, but it is not the same. They don't wake up and immediately see the other there with them. Just this random sighting has lifted Ilya's mood to unimaginable heights. He can't help but feel sad he doesn't do many partnerships; it is a nice thought that Ilya could also be on a billboard somewhere for Shane to see on his commute to his arena.

This thought tickles something in Ilya's brain and he finds himself occupied with it for the rest of the day. Practice is fine in the way practice always is, Ilya only a bit distracted by his simmering thoughts. He specifically chooses to drive the same way home, just to see that billboard with Shane's pretty freckles splashed across it.

Ilya doesn't have anything that would result in him on a billboard, however, maybe he could think a bit smaller? Rare for him, yes, but maybe he can help Shane a little while also getting to tease him.

He occupies his time before their daily call by opening his laptop and carefully looking up to see if his idea is even a thing that can be done. He's seen plenty of them before, mostly at gas stations, but that means they're probably available to purchase. Everything can be bought somewhere on the internet.

He stops his search during their call, his mind focused on something much sexier than a dozen open google chrome tabs, but he makes a decision once they hang up and he's washed his hands.

Ilya selects the image carefully, ensuring the quality matches the site requirements, and dutifully selects Life-Sized when asked. He types in Jane under the name field and enters Shane's actual address.

His smile has grown the closer he gets to actually hitting Purchase and Ilya takes just a moment to contemplate on what he's about to do. Shane misses him, wants to see him every day. The call and text often, facetime when they're guaranteed to be unbothered by their teammates, yet Shane still wanted more of Ilya. Wanted his face to be the first thing he sees in the morning. His smile is so wide he probably looks half demented.

He double checks his purchase, the size, eyes roaming the specific picture he has chosen for anything that would distort or ruin things.

"Perfect," he giggles to himself as he orders a life-sized cardboard cutout of himself in his jersey, sending it right to his poor boyfriend's front door.

Ilya does not plan to warn Shane because as much as this is about providing a weird, but thoughtful, gesture, he is also doing this to mess with Shane.

No heads up, just a box showing up at his door addressed to Jane [NoLastName] from Lily <3.

Ilya waits, follows his routine and Shane's calendar, and tries not to give anything away. The date of delivery was listed as five days after purchase, but Ilya gets a text three days after that sends him into a fit of giggles.

My Jane: What the hell is this?

A picture of the cutout follows the text. It's propped up in Shane's living room, slightly creased from where it was folded in the box. It stares into the camera, his own smug smirk directed back at him.

Ilya: oh, that is me )) we agree my face is a gift, yes?

There is a long pause where Ilya can see Shane has read his text, but says nothing in response. The typing bubble appears once and then goes away, this occurring multiple times, before Shane finally sends his text.

My Jane: I'm going to burn it.

Ilya has to sit down, his laughter bright and thrilled.

Ilya: you will not you miss me remember?

In a shock that delights and thrills Ilya, Shane does not follow through on his threat of burning the cutout. Ilya knows this because two days later he is greeted with the usual good morning text, but it is accompanied by a picture that sends Ilya into a tailspin full of affection for his boyfriend.

The photo shows the cardboard cutout sitting at Shane's kitchen table, a plate of toast in front of it. There is a single bite taken out of the crisp looking slice on the plate. Ilya can see Shane's grotesque smoothie beside it. Shane has taped a piece of paper onto the cutout, using the hockey stick blade to hang it, and has written a message in sharpie.

shane makes the best breakfast

Ilya has to take several moments to breath through his giggles, feeling bubbly and delighted at his boyfriend's humor.

Ilya: the toast looks more burnt than he is. you decide you miss my face after all, Hollander? also he is lying i would never say that

My Jane: I tried, but it looked at me weird. Couldn't go through with it.

Ilya: you were so stunned by handsome cardboard me you could not light match :P

My Jane: Shut up.

Ilya is delighted for days afterwards, flying high not only on Shane's incredulous reception of the cutout, but also pleased with the way he has gone along with Ilya's teasing. Ilya loves it when Shane takes the time and relaxes enough to get playful.

He is still a little surprised when, a week later, another picture is waiting for him.

The cutout is wearing sunglasses now, a pair Ilya recognizes as his own; he must have left them at the cottage and Shane had found them, taking them with him back to Montreal. Shane has managed to wrangle a Montreal hoodie onto the cutout, the piece of clothing sitting funny on the shape of the cutout. He has hilariously threaded the hockey stick through one of the arm holes, a new message taped to it.

don't wait up

Ilya: where is he going

My Jane: None of your business.

Ilya: he is on his way to beat montreal 9-0

My Jane: Fuck you.

Ilya loves this man. So, so much.

It is Canadian Thanksgiving and Ilya is stuck in Boston, unable to move things around in his schedule to see Shane for the holiday. Shane would be spending the day with his parents anyway, and they have yet to return to the discussion of when and how they should be told of their romantic relationship.

Ilya hates it, the way hiding is a necessity that weighs so heavily, but he loves Shane and he agreed to the plan for that exact reason.

He is sitting shirtless on his couch, waiting for the Toronto vs. Detroit game to start, when his phone dings. He unlocks his phone and chokes on his own spit, sound caught in his throat at what he sees.

The cutout is sat at the head of a fancy dining table, various dishes spread out before him. He is wearing the plaid button up Ilya had once borrowed while at the cottage, a brown toque stuffed onto the cutout's head. His plate is piled high with foods Ilya has never seen Shane touch.

i cooked all of this myself

Ilya: is he being a respectful guest

My Jane: He let my dad cut the turkey without any arguments, so I think he's making a good impression.

Ilya, suddenly reminded that Shane's parents were headed to his place for the holiday instead of hosting at their own, and so would be seeing the cutout, hoots with unrestrained delight. The fact Shane hasn't hidden the cutout, that he has dressed it once more and kept it out for his parents to see, makes Ilya's eyes water.

Ilya: i love you

My Jane: I love you too.

Ilya isn't surprised anymore to receive a new photo, simply pleased the purchase has clearly brought Shane some much needed joy.

The next one comes while Ilya is trying to force fake fangs onto his own teeth, grumbling about stupid costumes. He is running late already, supposed to have left for Connors' place half an hour ago for the team Halloween party. The stupid werewolf fangs are unwieldy though, and Ilya is struggling to get them to sit correctly in his mouth. His actual fake teeth were never this hard to deal with.

His phone pings and he glances down, immediately discarding the last fang onto the bathroom counter when he sees it's from Shane. He opens the text and cackles, the sound almost surprising him as he examines the image.

The cutout was clearly dressed as a ghost, a fresh white sheet thrown over it, two badly cut holes allowing for his eyes to be seen and nothing else. The message taped to the stick has been changed again.

boo. did i scare you?

Ilya is still running late, needs to get that last fang in still, so he sends a quick response and smiles for the rest of the time he spends getting ready.

Ilya: (~'o')~

The next photo is by far Ilya's favorite, sent to him as he's packing his bags for a visit to Shane's cottage. Ilya will arrive the day before Christmas, spend the day with Shane, and then entertain himself there when Shane has to go to his parents on actual Christmas Day. He will get Shane all to himself the day after, before they both have to return to their individual homes, the season resuming after the three day break.

The cutout was wearing a Boston Santa hat. Ilya feels gleeful at the idea that Shane spent actual money on Boston themed merch and it heightens his enjoyment of the photo tenfold. There are Christmas lights wrapped carefully around the cutout's shoulders. Shane has taped a printed picture of a mug of hot chocolate over the gloved hand holding the stick upright.

ho ho ho. happy holidays from the 2nd best hockey player

Ilya actually has to put his phone down because he can not stop grinning and his face hurts.

Ilya: finally admitting you are second best i am proud of you

My Jane: No, that's you saying it, not me!

Ilya: cardboard me did not write or send photo, he is only spreading your message

My Jane: Fuck you, you know that's not what I meant!

Ilya: you lose arguments to the cutout too? i know you do it is okay not your thing

Ilya is already waiting to answer the call he knows is coming.

The cutout continues to bring joy into his life even after the New Year. He always loves it when a new photo is sent, the funny little quips and silly outfits that Shane has taken the time to plan and execute.

The bubble of joy he feels is popped abruptly in late January when he learns that Shane's parents aren't the only people in his life who have gotten acquainted with his cardboard counterpart.

Ilya is tagged in the replies of a post on Twitter. It shows the cutout wearing the Christmas outfit from a few weeks ago, though it is a different photo than the one Shane had sent Ilya. It is posted on J.J. Boiziau's account and the caption simply reads: "Shane's new roommate is an asshole."

rozman47: why does Hollander have a cardboard cutout of Roz?

MiMiMoon: Does he pay rent?

hhaynehollyder: jj blink twice if he's holding you hostage

RozesQueen: officialrozanov81 have you seen this?

Ilya almost has a heart attack, worry and panic surfacing instantly at the sight. It is not the post itself that bothers him, nor the knowledge that others would know Shane has it. It is the thought of how scared Shane must be, how worried he is at what people might be thinking when they see this post. Ilya is ready to call Shane, to talk him down from a panic attack, when he notices that Shane has actually left a reply on the post.

ShaneHollanderNHL: I think he looks very polite

Ilya stares at it. Blinks twice before he refreshes the page, stunned that the comment was not a hallucination. Shane has not only responded on the post, but he has engaged with it in a way that wasn't an immediate and harsh dismissal. It is not some statement refusing to associate with the cardboard cutout but a direct interaction that is fun and silly.

Ilya feels something like optimism stir within him. Throughout this entire experience, he has slowly been coming to the conclusion that he does not want to hide as much as he assumed he wanted to. Russia is still a looming threat, that is true, but Ilya can see a future where they hide their love, where they don't come out until after retirement, and he despairs. Ilya would do it, would always follow Shane, but he is afraid to admit that he might be just a bit miserable while doing so.

Ilya doesn't want to hide forever and this makes him feel like maybe Shane is feeling the same things Ilya is, thinking the same thoughts even. That maybe their plan can go past the initial friendly in public conclusion they had come to.

officialrozanov81: very festive, hollander, i like :*

ShaneHollanderNHL: :)

Chapter End Notes

this is the only chapter of this fic I have written up. I don't know if I'll get the next chapter up next or switch back to my other fic first. I've written like 7k words in two days and I need to give myself a break before I burn out lol I have so many notes for so many different fics i need to calm down

солнышко Sunshine/little sun

Chapter 2: HAYDEN &amp; J. J.

Chapter Summary

He does look up once he's inside, though, and he lays eyes on the most hideous thing he has ever seen.

He drops both bags.

"What the hell is that?" Hayden asks, his tone dripping with horror. He knows what it looks like, can see plain as day a cardboard cut out of Ilya fucking Rozanov standing front and center in Shane Hollander's living room, but he's surely hallucinating. Surely there is not a cardboard cutout of his least favorite Russian asshole standing in his best friend's living room, sunglasses adorning to cover the thing's eyes and a note that is taped to the stick.

Chapter Notes

hayden and jj meet shane's roommate, hayden pov

HAYDEN & J.J.

Hayden lets himself into Shane's place because, well, why wouldn't he? Shane gave him a key because Hayden is his best friend and Shane likes it when Hayden comes over to hang out. They spend most of their time over at Hayden's, both of them wrangling kids so Jackie can have time for herself, but it's nice to hang out with Shane, just the two of them.

"Dude, you would not believe the day I have had," Hayden says as he's opening the door. He's juggling a few bags, one with health snacks for Shane to eat while playing video games and one filled with slightly less healthy snacks for himself, so he doesn't immediately notice.

He does look up once he's inside, though, and he lays eyes on the most hideous thing he has ever seen.

He drops both bags.

"What the hell is that?" Hayden asks, his tone dripping with horror. He knows what it looks like, can see plain as day a cardboard cut out of Ilya fucking Rozanov standing front and center in Shane Hollander's living room, but he's surely hallucinating. Surely there is not a cardboard cutout of his least favorite Russian asshole standing in his best friend's living room, sunglasses adorning to cover the thing's eyes and a note that is taped to the stick.

don't wait up

He stares, mouth agape. He blinks once, like maybe it would disappear if he closed his eyes, and then once more just to be thorough. "Shane?" he shouts again, not taking his eyes off the demon turned cardboard in front of him. It looks so smug, Hayden notices with disgust. The glasses look good on it too, like Hayden could see that asshole owning a similar pair and think he looked like hot shit.

Footsteps sound behind him and Hayden finally looks away, whipping around to see Shane approaching with his hands in his hoodie pocket and one string secured firmly in his mouth. "Hey," Shane greets, greeting muffled as he chews slightly on the string.

"Hey?" Hayden asks, incredulous. "That's it? Hey?"

Shane's brow furrowed for a moment, a frown building on his face, before he blinks and smiles. "Oh, sorry, you said your day was bad. What happened?"

Hayden takes in a deep breath, reminds himself that Shane wouldn't torture him on purpose, and then slowly raises his arm to point at the abomination standing in the room with them. "What the fuck is that?"

Shane glances behind him and seems to freeze for a moment. He just stops moving, his face blank with no emotion. He holds himself still for almost five seconds before he meets Hayden's gaze and shrugs. "That's Ilya," he finally answers, voice deadpan.

Hayden doesn't know what to do with that. "No it's not," he says slowly, watching Shane carefully.

"Close enough," Shane says, shrugging.

Hayden looks at Shane, then the cutout, then back at Shane. "Why is it here?

"He lives here," Shane informs him, straight faced.

"No, he doesn't," Hayden denies.

"Yes, he does," Shane argues.

"No, he doesn't," Hayden stresses every single word just to get across exactly how he feels about the bullshit that Shane is trying to feed him.

"He pays half the rent, yes, he does," Shane responds, outright dismissing Hayden and pulling out his phone in the middle of their conversation.

Hayden hates when he does that!

"How would he pay rent? No, why would he pay rent? You own your condo," Hayden asks, genuine confusion making his voice high, highlighting the absurdity of his words.

"He's a good roommate," Shane replies absentmindedly, walking past Hayden and taking a seat on his couch.

"Who even gave it to you? Surely you didn't buy it, right?" Hayden asks, not willing to let whatever this was go on without getting an answer. "Why didn't you throw it away?"

Shane glances at him, at the cutout, then back at his phone, shrugging. "If I tossed him, who would sit there?" he asks, indicating the other end of his couch.

"Me?" Hayden offers, befuddled.

Shane gives him a look, something that Hayden is usually reluctant to call a bitch face, but Shane is pushing the level of bullshit Hayden can handle, so it is what it is. "No."

Hayden almost throws his arms up, completely confused at this point. "You can't be serious."

"About what?'

"This whole thing," Hayden shouts now, rapid gestures moving between Shane, the couch, and that damn Schrödinger's cutout. Hollander's cutout? Is he using that right? Jesus.

"Yeah," Shane confirms, calm.

Hayden realizes he doesn't know what to do here. Shane seems unusually committed to whatever bit this was, calm and confident in the idea that Rozanov's monster was an acceptable companion to keep just hanging around.

This wasn't normal. Hayden loves Shane's brand of weird, really, but this is weird in a way that has Hayden a little concerned. It's not normal to have a cardboard cutout of your rival that you dress up and tape messages to. Is Shane having a breakdown?

Oh, god, is Hayden?

Hayden doesn't even feel like he can move to check on Shane, make him look him in the eyes and talk, because he just knows if you walks pass that thing it's going to stare at him. The eyes probably follow you from behind those sunglasses. He's suddenly grateful for the accessory; he doesn't want to be able to see it watching him.

"I don't like the way it's watching me," Hayden finally speaks up, his voice a whisper.

Shane glances up at him, eyebrow raised. "He's wearing sunglasses."

"I can tell," Hayden hisses.

"It's a cardboard cutout," Shane shoots back.

"Yeah, of the devil," Hayden stresses.

"Still a cardboard cutout."

Hayden narrows his eyes at the dismissal. Shane is clearly not hearing him. "I feel judged."

"You should," Shane replies easily, unbothered by Hayden's ongoing breakdown.

"By cardboard?"

Shane shrugs, a slight smile appearing on his lips. "It knows things."

"I thought you said it was just a cutout," Hayden gasps, whipping around to face his nightmare. "You're doing this on purpose."

Hayden hears Shane laugh behind him and knows he's screwed.

He gets this confirmed because when he shows up at Shane's a few weeks later, the damn thing is still there. It is sitting on the couch, now wearing a Montreal hoodie along with the glasses, and a brand new message.

you look tired, pike. have you tried being better hockey player?

"We're not doing this," Hayden insists, glaring at the cutout. "No, I'm not allowing this."

Shane's chuckle is the only answer he gets.

"No, why is it talking to me?" Hayden hisses, edging his way back out of the apartment, eyeing the horror carefully.

"Come over here and sit down," Shane says, snorting at the look Hayden sends him.

"I'm not sitting next to that," Hayden replies, incredulous at the suggestion.

"Sit down," Shane insists. "It's not gonna do anything."

"You don't fucking know that," Hayden asserts.

Shane looks at him, not even a hint of understanding on his face. "It's cardboard."

Hayden points, jabbing his finger violently in its direction. "That's what it wants you to think!"

"You're being crazy," Shane states, a smile growing on his face. His amusement is not appreciated and Hayden does not like being laughed at for his very valid concern.

"I walked into your apartment and found him wearing your hoodie," Hayden points out, suddenly very tired.

"It's his hoodie, now," Shane replies pleasantly, leaning back to relax on his couch.

Hayden is disappointed to find that that thing becomes a permanent feature in Shane's living room. It mostly stays by the door or on the couch, but one time it was hidden behind the front door and Hayden had been so relieved when he hadn't seen it upon entry that he hadn't questioned where it went. He'd closed the door and almost had a heart attack, screeching obnoxiously in terror.

"It gives off a bad vibe!" Hayden yells, resisting the urge to tear out his hair.

"He doesn't have a vibe."

"It absolutely has a vibe," Hayden argues. "A bad vibe."

"He's cardboard."

"He's a demon sent by the devil to torment me," Hayden mourns.

He gets a panicked call from Shane the night of their team Halloween party, his captain upset that the cape he bought for his vampire costume has a rip, so Hayden puts on his pants, kisses his wife, and runs to three different stores trying to find a last minute black cape. This sets his timetable back by a good thirty minutes, so he goes to pick up J.J. slightly later than originally planned before heading over to Shane's, cape in hand.

"I still think your costume is incoherent," J.J. taunts, grinning at Hayden's glare.

"Just because you're too stupid to get it doesn't means others won't," Hayden argues. He glances down at his cow print shirt, tugging it down slightly, and then lifts his hand to make sure the halo on his head sits correctly. "Besides, you're dressed as a damn pylon. Real original." It had taken some maneuvering to get J.J. and his stupid traffic cone costume into Hayden's van.

He isn't thinking about it when he walks into the apartment, which is honestly his bad, he knows better at this point.

"Jesus," Hayden jumps, hand against his chest to lay atop his rapidly beating heart.

"Holy cow," J.J. is equally as startled, running right into Hayden's back.

Oh, now he gets the costume, Hayden thinks angrily, eyeing the damn monstrosity with blatant loathing. It's covered in a simple white sheet, eye holes making it clear it's supposed to be a ghost. The stick sign has changed to fit the holiday.

boo. did i scare you?

"Shane, why is there a ghost in your living room?" J.J. asks, amusement finally superseding his initial shock.

"Roommate," Shane predictably responds, marching in from the hallway. "Thanks, Hayds, I appreciate it.

Hayden hands the cape over, eyeing Shane's costume with appreciation. His friend looks good; it's a typical vampire costume, one that Hayden has seen a dozen times over, but the material is clearly more expensive than the typical store-bought fair. He feels a little guilty at the quality of cape he chose now that he's seen it, but Shane doesn't seem all that bothered.

The deep red vest he's wearing has a subtle black pattern on it, reminiscent of some type of flower pattern. The vest has shiny gold buttons and a small chain accent that lays across Shane's chest. Underneath it sits a white shirt with a dramatic ruffled front; it really pulls the whole 'vampire' outfit together. The cape is draped over his shoulders and Hayden winces slightly at the clear fabric difference. Hopefully Shane doesn't take a close look at the cape's material; Hayden knows Shane wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it for the rest of the night, overthinking what people will assume about the effort he put into his costume if such a cheap cape was noticed.

"Who is your friend, capitaine?" J.J. asks, reaching for the sheet covered cutout and lifting it to take a look. There's a pause while J.J. takes in the sight, a brief moment where Hayden can see his mind racing, before J.J. drops the sheet and takes a step back. He spins around, eyebrow raised. "Why is Ilya Rozanov hiding under your bedsheets?"

Shane makes a face at J.J.'s words, his mouth twitching, before he shrugs. "He lives here."

"Why that image, though? He looks very smug," J.J. asks. Hayden does not understand his curiosity. Hayden wants to kill it with fire, not ask about the logistics of the decision making behind the cutout.

"It was a gift," Shane explains, grinning when J.J. actually laughs at his response.

"This was clearly a threat, not a gift, cap," J.J. exclaims, smile still wide. "You are insane for keeping it."

"That's why I kept it," Shane seems very pleased at J.J.'s amusement, shooting Hayden a pointed look that Hayden personally feels is completely unnecessary.

"How often does he talk?" J.J. asks, examining the paper note taped to the stick.

"Sometimes."

"Only sometimes?"

"Depends on his mood," Shane chuckles, crouching down to lace up his fancy-looking black shoes.

J.J.'s laughter is sharp as he looks down at Shane. "Incroyable, you've given him a personality!"

"He came that way," is Shane's response.

Hayden is clearly the only one with any sense of danger; that thing is likely going to murder Shane in his sleep. There is nothing funny about it.

J.J. continues to think it's funny and even starts offering ideas to Shane as soon as they're buckled up and on their way to Miity's.

"Are you only dressing him up for holidays? You should have different outfits for different days."

"No," Hayden interrupts, grimacing at the reminder of the second time he ever saw the cutout.

"Hear me out!" J.J. insists, but Hayden just keeps shaking his head, sternly saying, "No!" every time J.J. tries to add something.

"You could do themes," J.J. says, raising his voice to speak over Hayden's denials. "Formal wear on Fridays; give him a tiny bowtie."

"Shane, do not buy a tiny bowtie for a cardboard cutout of your rival!" Hayden needs to keep his eyes on the road, but he turns just enough to give Shane, who sits in his passenger seat, a very pointed glare.

"Fine, Hayden, I won't buy him a tiny bowtie," Shane accepts, laughing softly, cheeks pink with something like delight. Hayden watches him a moment longer, eyes narrowed, before he turns back to the road.

"I'll buy one," J.J. inserts himself back into the conversation. Hayden glances at him using his rearview mirror and is indignant to see him scrolling on his phone, clearly looking up tiny bowties to buy.

Hayden does not end up winning this argument, resigned when he visits Shane at his place a few weeks before Christmas, greeted by the cutout in a tiny bowtie, cup of coffee taped to cover the glove holding the stick.

move, i am late for very important business meeting with your mother

J.J. is already there, smugly watching Hayden's defeated expression. "Doesn't he look great?

"He looks very employed," Shane adds from his position on the couch, eyes glued to the hockey game starting on his television.

"He needs to pay his rent somehow," J.J. cackles, leaving Hayden to his misery to join Shane. 

Hayden spends the entire night forced to watch the real Rozanov score a hattrick while his cardboard double is probably planning his murder from five feet away.

Hayden visits Shane several times in the next two weeks, something always coming up that forces him to head over to his friend's place, and he notices that the damn thing has started to really travel around the condo. Instead of by the door or on the couch, he starts seeing it in the kitchen, half hidden behind the television, and, in a very memorable jump scare, waiting for Hayden to find it in Shane's guest bathroom.

"Is it still here?" Hayden asks immediately after he clocks its absence when he first walks in the day before Christmas break.

"Yeah," Shane responds without glancing up from his phone, nonchalantly standing in his kitchen while something spins in his microwave.

"Where?"

"Somewhere," Shane gestures at everything, smiling at something he reads on his screen.

Hayden loves Shane so much, he's his best friend, but when he finally notices the damn thing peaking out from his hallway, all creep style, he has to fight the urge to strangle him.

"Why would you put it there?!"

"I didn't."

"You absolutely did, Shane!"

"It was already there."

"Because you moved it there! It didn't move on it's own, Shane!"

"You don't know that."

"I do know that!"

Hayden has managed to avoid being anywhere near Shane's place for a few weeks, so he doesn't see the Christmas outfit in person. Instead, he sees it while scrolling mindlessly on twitter, choking on his own spit when he realizes J.J. has posted the picture for the entire internet to see.

"Okay, walk me through why you still have it and why you allowed J.J. to post that picture?" Hayden begs as soon as Shane picks up his call.

"No."

"Shane, please."

"It's funny."

"That's not a good enough reason."

"It is for me."

"But it's not normal, dude," Hayden has to keep himself from shouting, exhausted by the whole thing.

"Neither am I," Shane replies, his voice unbothered and toneless over the speaker.

"That's not—this is a different level or not normal," Hayden tells him, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to keep an oncoming headache from getting any worse. "Shane, what do you get out of it? Do you like, talk to it?"

"No."

"…Does it talk to you?" Hayden hates that he feels like he has to ask this question.

Shane doesn't say anything for a long moment and Hayden goes from confused to deeply concerned in a second flat. He's seriously considering whether he should bring in the big guns and get Shane's mother involved in whatever kind of episode Shane is going through, but Shane makes a noise on the other end, so Hayden puts those desperate measure on pause.

"There are speech bubbles."

That's not what I meant, Hayden thinks, immediately picking up where his thoughts left off.

He watches the numbers on the tweet build into one of J.J.'s most reposted tweets. Hayden feels a bit better when he sees the majority of people are just as confused as he is, but there are a small amount of comments that are just as willing to run with a 'funny' joke as J.J. is.

Unfortunately for Hayden, Ilya Rozanov (the real one), is one such person ready to go all in on the joke.

ShaneHollanderNHL: I think he looks very polite

officialrozanov81: very festive, hollander, i like :*

ShaneHollanderNHL: :)

Hayden makes the executive decision that he's going to forget he ever saw that stupid cardboard cutout. It's existence is gone, poof, wiped from his brain. This is the only way he will ever feel peace again.

Chapter End Notes

j.j. is here for a good time not a long time. hayden despairs. shane is :)

Chapter 3: YUNA &amp; DAVID

Chapter Summary

The fourth plate already has food piled high on it, perfectly arranged so that some foods are no where near each other while a couple less offensive combinations are touching. This is a little odd, but something Yuna could easily ignore, except the seat placed behind the plate is currently occupied.

Occupied, Yuna notices, feeling faint, by a cardboard cutout of Ilya Rozanov.

"David," Yuna whispers, not taking her eyes off the cutout. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"I hope not?" David replies, his answer more of a question than anything.

Chapter Notes

this is a little later than I originally planned to post today; I went to buc-ee's for the first time today and spent over $100. i love a gimmick. and a burrito

YUNA & DAVID

They don't celebrate Thanksgiving every year; Shane had gotten so invested in hockey at such a young age that Yuna knew that they wouldn't always be able to be together during the holiday. Not everyone celebrates and more than one league had zero issues scheduling games that left it almost impossible to sit down together as a family and enjoy a holiday meal.

When the schedule comes out and it's clear Shane doesn't play the day of Thanksgiving and then doesn't start his road trip until two days after that, it's David that proposes they have a sit down dinner for the holiday. He always loves to cook for them, pleased when Yuna puts aside her work for once and when Shane actually eats more than his restrictive diet usually allows him.

Shane agrees, which brings Yuna some relief. After he was hurt last year, he'd been somewhat distant. She knows she can be a bit overbearing at times, so she wasn't surprised when he left for his own cottage fairly soon after he was cleared by medical. She also isn't surprised when he voluntarily decides to do a silent retreat, asking both of them not to disturb him.

It sounds like something her son would love; quiet and solitary, just himself and the peace that his cottage brings. Yuna doesn't fight him on it, really tries her hardest to leash her more persistent personality in order to let Shane just be for a few weeks. She stops herself from calling every night, from worrying herself into a frenzy, and even goes out to buy David an entirely new charging cable just so he doesn't need to go bother Shane for the extra he keeps there after his one at home snaps.

Shane seems different after his silent retreat; a confidence in himself that Yuna doesn't think she's ever seen in him. He quicker to smile, always laughing at something on his phone. Yuna loves to see him like that, which is why she's so worried when his mood seems to dip at the beginning of the season.

He's still obsessed with his phone, always willing to smile at whatever Hayden has sent him now, but he seems sadder overall. His mood turns melancholy in a way that feels almost heartbroken.

All of this accumulates to Yuna feeling genuine shock that Shane not only agrees to having a nice holiday dinner, but then insists that he will make and host the dinner himself.

"Honey, are you sure?" Yuna asks, meeting David's raised eyebrow with a look of her own. He takes a sip of his coffee, returning his attention to the newspaper in front of him.

"Yes, mom, I'm sure," Shane replies. He sounds exasperated, which Yuna doesn't appreciate, but she can tell he's going through something, so she graciously lets it slide for now. She'll ask about his attitude at a later date.

"It's just—your father loves cooking for us; he's been collecting recipes that fit your diet for weeks, just for this!"

"And I appreciate that," Shane replies, "but I want to make dinner for your guys. I promise it will be good."

Yuna instantly feels a little bad about the doubt she feels at those words. Shane isn't a bad cook, per se, but he's perfected the food he eats regularly; food that Yuna suspects is rather bland just from some of the pictures Shane has occasionally sent them. She often wants to ask what exactly Montreal's dietician is thinking, but Yuna has learned to back off on this particular topic. Too many times she's tried to get Shane to indulge and too many times he's snapped back, cornered and visibly frustrated. She doesn't want to cause him any more stress that he is already under at the beginning of the season.

"Okay, sweetheart, just let us know if you need us to bring anything," Yuna concedes.

So they let Shane plan the menu without input, Yuna keeping her thoughts to herself. He doesn't say much about what he's planning, just that he thinks it will be good, so she makes a note to have David cook a bit more for dinner the day before, just so there's something in their fridge when they get home that night.

Just in case.

Yuna pictures what she's going to walk into when they arrive: a meticulously prepared meal that is maybe only slightly burned, dishes altered and prepped to fit within Shane's macrobiotic diet. Yuna has some hope that it won't be quite done when they arrive, that maybe David can offer to taste-test some things and mitigate any seasoning disasters that might be in the works.

That is not what they are greeted with when they let themselves into Shane's condo.

The first thing Yuna notices is the smell. It's so surprising, the delicious aroma that greets them when they open the door, that she fully stops walking, David brushing up from behind her to take a surprised sniff of the air.

"Smells good," he offers, meeting her gaze before laying a gentle hand on her lower back. He escorts her the rest of the way in, his hand rising to rub her shoulders slightly in support, before he pulls away, hanging up his own jacket and then hers when she hands it to him.

Yuna wipes her hands on her slacks, nerves threatening to get the best of her, before she steels herself. It smells good, which means maybe she won't have to pretend, that she can honestly tell Shane how well he's done, no embellishment necessary.

"Shane, we're here," she calls out, smiling when Shane appears from the kitchen, towel in hand.

"Hey, mom, dad, glad you could make it," Shane greets as he gives her a hug. He seems nervous, eyes darting around towards the direction of his dining room more than once.

"Of course!" David assures him, getting his own hug from his son. "We're very excited to see what you've cooked up; smells amazing."

"Thanks," Shane mutters, head ducking down briefly with embarrassment. "I hope it's okay. I'm just finishing up in the kitchen, go ahead and take your seats in the dining room."

Yuna gives his arm a squeeze before she heads towards the dining room, David a step behind her. The table that usually sits in the room has had the extender added to it, giving the food a little bit more room to spread out. There is a small turkey on the table, golden and delicious looking. Fluffy mashed potatoes sit in front of it, a gravy boat with a matching pattern right beside it. A casserole dish with dressing is settled on the other side of the turkey, still faintly steaming. A bowl of corn and green beans add two pops of color to the otherwise golden meal. Four plates are set out, the shiny chinaware perfectly placed for them to sit. Two places on one side of the long table, one set across from them, and then a fourth at the head of the table.

The fourth plate already has food piled high on it, perfectly arranged so that some foods are no where near each other while a couple less offensive combinations are touching. This is a little odd, but something Yuna could easily ignore, except the seat placed behind the plate is currently occupied.

Occupied, Yuna notices, feeling faint, by a cardboard cutout of Ilya Rozanov.

"David," Yuna whispers, not taking her eyes off the cutout. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"I hope not?" David replies, his answer more of a question than anything.

"Excuse me," Shane says as he squeezes past their frozen forms, a basket of bread held in his arms.

Yuna watches him place the basket, adjusting the placement until he seems satisfied. He heads to the other side of the dining room, picking up a bundle off the top of a wooden cabinet sitting there. He walks over to the cutout Yuna wants to believe she is hallucinating and he starts unraveling the bundle into a brown and orange plaid button up shirt. He slips it over the cutout's shoulders, threading the stick through one of the arm holes. Shane buttons the shirt, tugging on it until it settles smoothly over the cutout. He then pulls a brown toque out of the shirt's bulging front pocket and slips it onto its head.

Yuna stares, unmoving.

Shane continues to ignore them as he pulls a pen and slip of paper out of his back pocket, writing something on the paper and then slapping it onto the stick. It stays there, so Yuna can only assume there was tape already on the stick.

i cooked all of this myself

"Shane," Yuna starts and then stops, unsure on how she wants to start this conversation.

"Yeah?" he asks, completely calm and put together as he rounds the table to the other side, raising his phone to take a picture of his creation.

"What are you doing?" she finally decides on.

"Getting him ready," Shane replies, checking the photo he took and frowning. He must not like it because he raises his phone to take several more in quick succession.

"Ready for...?" Yuna pushes for a follow up, because what?

"Thanksgiving," Shane responds, taking a moment to give her an odd look like she has just asked some crazy question.

Yuna takes a moment to fortify herself, to fully gather her thoughts until she's ready to take on whatever this is. She looks at Shane, back at the cardboard cutout, takes a moment to sneak a glance over at David, who is looking far too calm about all of this, before she clears her throat.

"Honey, what is that?"

"This is Ilya," Shane says, gesturing towards the cutout.

"That's not a a real person," David says from beside her.

"Well, no," Shane says and then he does not follow up with anything coherent.

David stares at him and Yuna can see his curiosity growing. She thinks he should maybe join her in her panic, but he seems to find this entire scenario no where near as alarming as she does.

"Where did you get it?"

Yuna crosses her arms, turning back to Shane, because David has a point; where did he get it?

"Mail."

"Mail?"

"Yeah."

"Who sent it?"

Shane shrugs, turning away from them again to take a look at his phone, his thumbing tapping against it slightly with nerves. "Ilya."

"He sent you a life-sized cardboard cutout of himself?" Yuna asks, her anger sparking. She feels a righteous fury start to build in her gut at the thought; the arrogance of the Russian to taunt her son like this, to invade his privacy by getting his address and then harassing him with unwanted attention and childish pranks.

"And you kept it?" David asks, breaking Yuna from her fury.

"Yeah," Shane replies.

"Why?" Yuna demands.

Shane's phone buzzes in his hands and he takes a moment to look at it. He smiles, a soft pleased thing, and Yuna wishes Hayden would leave her son alone long enough for her to get answers out of him.

"It would be rude not to," is what Shane finally decides on, locking his phone and slipping it into his back pocket.

"Rude to who?" David asks, his confusion visible on his scrunched face.

Shane fully gestures towards the cutout while raising an eyebrow in an expression Yuna finds incredibly familiar. "Him."

Yuna can no longer keep herself frozen in her spot, so she slowly moves towards the cutout, finding herself reluctantly inspecting it. She doesn't know what she's looking for, nor what she dreads she might find.

Whatever detail or explanation she was looking for, it is not located on the cardboard cutout. All she sees is a smug arrogant asshole now covered in a flannel that has belonged to her son since he was in high school.

"You dressed it," Yuna finally voices.

"I didn't want him to get cold."

"It's cardboard."

"He still deserves to be festive."

David snorts at Shane's rebuttal and Yuna sends him that familiar eyebrow raise.

"What if I'm cold?" David asks Shane, his lips twitching as he tries not to smile. "You didn't offer me anything to keep warm."

"You have a coat," Shane shoots back.

"Not the point, son," David actually chuckles, finally stepping further into the room to stand next to her.

Yuna points at the improvised speech bubble, barely holding back a building scream. "What is this?"

"He talks sometimes."

"He does not talk," Yuna disagrees, unwilling to let this delusion go that far.

"Well, not out loud," Shane concedes.

"Are you hearing this?" Yuna turns to David, her worry starting to spill over. Whatever is going on, Shane is clearly having some kind of breakdown.

"Yes, I hear it," David responds, a smile on his face.

"Do you understand it?" Yuna asks, incredulous. Why was he smiling when their son was talking about a cardboard cutout of his rival like it was real? He served him an entire plate like the thing was going to pick up a fork and eat dinner with them.

"No, but I'm choosing to accept it," David responds.

"You can't just accept this!" Yuna hisses, unable to understand what the hell her husband was saying.

"I don't think fighting it is going to help," David tells her, resting a hand on her shoulder. He holds it there for a moment, gives her a small squeeze, before he lets her go and heads towards the side of the table with two chairs.

"Does it really need a seat?" Yuna huffs as she finally gives in, following David to take the seat at his side.

"Yeah," Shane replies as he adjusts the cutout slightly, pushing it up where it had started to lean to the side. He takes his own seat, unfurling the cloth napkin next to his plate.

"Does it really need that seat?" Yuna inquires, frustrated. She does not understand why this cutout is here, why it needs a seat, and if it really does need a seat, why it needs the seat at the head of the table.

Shane gives her a look, the same one he used to give her when he was nine and feeling particularly bratty. "Where else would he sit?"

"Nowhere, Shane, it is a cardboard cutout," Yuna mutters to herself, taking the mashed potatoes from David when he passes the bowl to her.

"He's eating with us," Shane argues. Yuna is so frustrated and confused that she barely even clocks the fact he actually has his own serving of mashed potatoes on his plate, something he usually wouldn't let anywhere near him during the season.

"It's cardboard."

"It's Thanksgiving," Shane shoots back in response.

"He does already have a plate set for him," David says, shrugging when Yuna turns to glare at him.

"Shane," Yuna stresses his name just so he can really hear how frustrated she is. She pinches the bridge of her nose too, not to chase a headache away, but to really enhance her overall image of exasperation.

"Yeah?"

"Look at me and explain this," Yuna demands, pointing at the cardboard cutout.

It's still just sitting there, she notes with disgust. Ilya Rozanov is not actually here, yet his presence is still somehow ruining what is supposed to be a fun and relaxing family dinner. This should be the opportunity for Shane to show off his surprising new cooking skills and yet it's been ruined by that thing.

Shane looks at her, actually meets her eyes for a moment, before he looks back down, slipping a slice of turkey off of the serving tray and onto his plate. "It's Ilya," Shane says, not explaining anything at all.

"I know that's what you call it."

"That's who it is."

"It is a cardboard cutout of him."

"Yeah."

"And you are treating it like a guest," Yuna replies with exasperation, waving David away when he offers her a slice of the bread from Shane's basket.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Shane pauses right before taking a bite, taking a moment to think before he answers her. She watches his face go through several emotions, from his own frustration to a blank look she often associates with him being vaguely overstimulated. "I don't know," he offers. "It's funny."

This is somehow the only answer that holds some level of honesty during this entire conversation and it leaves Yuna speechless.

David laughs in response, unrepentant at his amusement over this entire conversation. "I'm sorry, dear, it is kind of funny."

"It's not funny," Yuna disagrees vehemently.

"It's a little funny."

"It's concerning!"

"It can be both," David laughs in her face.

Dinner continues from there, silent and awkward until David chooses to completely ignore the first half of dinner and starts telling Shane about his newest puzzle.

Yuna can't help but glance at the offensive cutout every few minutes, full plate untouched because it is a cardboard cutout.

David, because he can not let Yuna know any peace during this entire ordeal, gestures casually towards the cutout once he has cleared his plate of food. "So, does he help with the dishes?"

"No," Shane replies with a smile, snorting when he glances at the cutout, "he's useless."

"Wow," David responds, "classic Rozanov."

"You're both insane," Yuna observes, finally resigned to not understand what is going on.

Their day moves on from there, Yuna finishing her meal while feeling vaguely nauseous, and they're by the door with their coats on within two hours of their arrival.

"It was delicious, sweetheart," Yuna says offering a small olive branch. They weren't done with whatever the hell today was, but she's willing to wait to actually talk about it; she needs the time to think about how she can convince Shane to see someone for the stress that is clearly negatively affecting him.

"It was," David agrees. He pauses just a moment before a mischievous little grin is thrown Shane's way. "What did Rozanov have to say about it?

Shane stares at him for a moment, blinking as he looks for something on his dad's face. What ever he is looking for, he must find it, because he returns David's grin with a smile of his own. "He says I overcooked the turkey."

"Can't make everybody happy," David chuckles, leaning forward to give Shane a goodbye hug.

Yuna gives him her own hug, promising to call him tomorrow to talk about the contracts she very graciously did not bring up during dinner, and then climbs into the passenger side of David's car.

"Yuna," David says after they've been on the road for almost thirty minutes, breaking the previously heavy silence.

"I'm not speaking to you," Yuna huffs, arms crossed.

"Yes, dear," David replies easily, smile still on his face as he changes lanes.

Yuna speaks to him again eventually, trying to get him to support her idea for getting Shane some help, but he dismisses her with a shake of his head, fully convinced Shane was honest about thinking the entire thing was just funny.

Yuna is not convinced.

She is watching Montreal play an away game in Boston a few days later, David banished to his study, and she grimaces when the camera locks onto Rozanov. He is dangerously close to the center line, clearly taunting her son while he's trying to stretch. Yuna glares at him, fury rising every second his smug smirk is shown on her screen, and the feelings don't dissipate until Shane shifts on the ice, his face lifting and suddenly in full view of the camera.

Yuna feels all of her anger leave as she stops breathing; it's for only a second, and she is positive no one else will read anything into it, but Shane has a look on his face. It's subtle in the way he only ever manages when he's trying to keep his emotions under control. The camera is focused on his face long enough to pick up the tick of his eyebrow, the way his lips start to curl up before he can stop himself, his eyes shining as he says something to Rozanov in return. She can't see his face anymore, the camera solely on Shane, but she sees the way Shane ducks his head, his body shaking slightly like he's trying to hold in a laugh.

The camera pans away to show both teams during warm ups, a typical wide shot of the arena Yuna has seen dozens of times before. She stays there on the couch, not truly seeing anything else.

She remembers the way Shane looks when texting Hayden—who he has always told her was Hayden. His smile, fondness evident in his eyes and the way he bites briefly at his bottom lip. Yuna feels the shift as she processes what she has just witnessed. Replacing Hayden with him, replacing friendship with feelings that can cause her baby boy to do something ridiculous like dress up a cardboard cutout of his supposed rival and then invite his parent over for a holiday dinner, and she wonders.

She doesn't follow most of the first period, lost in thought, but she clocks Rozanov checking Shane into the boards, a replay showing both of them grinning afterwards.

Maybe, she thinks to herself, Shane is trying to say something without having to say it.

She wrinkles her nose when she pulls her phone out and types in the search Boston Santa hat, but she thinks maybe this is the way she can answer her son without having to make him say the words. Supporting his interests, even if they cause Yuna an unbelievable amount of stress.

God, the things she would do for her son.

Chapter End Notes

wrote most of this while the pens were losing to the flyers and then edited it during the first two periods of game 3 between the stars and wild. my bracket says go wild

the next chapter of avarice is technically set to be posted tomorrow, but I'm not sure if I'll switch so I finish this first and then avarice. I'm working tomorrow and have to drive a couple hours after that. we;ll see.