Rating:

Not Rated

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Ottawa Centaurs Team Ensemble (Game Changers), Troy Barrett, Wyatt Hayes, Zane Boodram, Luca Haas, Harris Drover, Evan Dykstra

Additional Tags:

Coming Out, Relationship Reveal, Book 6: The Long Game (Game Changers), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coming Out On Their Own Terms !!, The plane crash never happened, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander is brave, Shane Hollander is Trying, Fluff, Supportive Ottawa Centaurs (Game Changers), Romantic Fluff, Ilya Rozanov Needs A Hug, Ottawa Centaurs Find Out About Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Established Relationship, Not Beta Read, Light Angst, yearning while dating

Language:

English

Collections:

Heated Rivalry fics I like

Stats:

Published: 2026-07-09 Words: 7,616 Chapters: 1/1

Next time I'll be braver

Summary

What if the plane crash never happened?
What if Shane decided to be a bit braver anyways?
--
A few months after the Boxing Day fight Shane decided to surprise Ilya and his teammates at Monk’s, the bar they frequent. He could just introduce himself as a friend, right?

Notes

I was listening to 'Never Enough' from the Greatest Showman, and this idea popped into my head.
This was very healing to write, for someone who wished it hadn't taken a big accident like the plane crash for Shane to realize that he didn't want to hide Ilya anymore.

That's how this was born :)

I kept going back and forth while writing some of the scenes, so I hope everything makes sense.

Their fight on Boxing Day had been so long ago, and while they sort of moved past it, Shane had never been able to get it out of his head. The torturous few days where they hadn't spoken, and then the emotional conversation they had when they finally saw each other again.

In their short time apart, even though it had felt like months, Shane realized that he hadn't been fair at all. Flinching back when Ilya had asked him his most feared question, instead of answering what had been on the tip of his tongue.

When they finally talked, Shane had told Ilya that of course he would choose him over hockey, but he hadn't missed the look on Ilya's face that said that he didn't entirely believe Shane. Ilya had told him that he was seeing a therapist, and that made Shane feel even worse, even though Ilya told him over and over again that it wasn't his fault.

Shane knew he had been unfair when he acted like his support system was comparable to whatever Ilya had at all. Ilya knew he had friends around him, he admitted as such, but it was not the same as getting to openly talk and gush about their relationship.

The overdue conversation had healed some cracks in their relationship, and Shane was so relieved that Ilya had finally started to open up to him a little more. And he had opened up to Ilya about the Metros locker room and how it weighed harder on him than he thought, hearing those slurs being thrown around every day.

But seeing how hard it was for Ilya to not be able to love him openly, Shane had decided that he would try to be braver. Maybe even take Ilya up on the offer to meet his team, albeit as just his friend. But it took him longer than he thought it would, and he could see it taking a toll on Ilya. Every time his boyfriend asked him to come to a team gathering, Shane would answer, saying, "Maybe next time, okay?"

He had said them so many times, they didn't even seem like words anymore. And he did really try. He tried figuring out a new plan, maybe coming out earlier than they had planned, but he hadn't shared any of those ideas with Ilya yet.

But he was determined to do something about his boyfriend's sad eyes, although lying again probably wasn't the best way to go about it.

Shane had a few days off, and normally he wouldn't hesitate to drive to Ottawa to spend time with Ilya, but when Ilya asked him about it, he had said that he had mandatory practice. Even over the phone he could hear it in the way Ilya sighed. He knew Shane wasn't telling the truth.

But Shane had a plan for tonight, and it involved surprising his boyfriend. He just didn't want to tell him and have to see the disappointed look on his face when he inevitably backed out, deciding to stay home instead. Ilya hadn't pushed, instead leaving their phone call yesterday with an "I love you" that churned Shane's heart, but he responded with "I love you more" as if that would somehow make it better.

Today's texts from Ilya sat unanswered in the pocket of his jeans, considering Shane didn't know how to say anything without revealing what he was planning to do.

With his phone put away, Shane stood in front of his closet at their house, or technically Ilya's house, but he was there so much that it felt more like home than his cold apartment in Montreal. There weren't many clothes here that fit going to a bar in Ottawa, but he supposed everyone already thought he was boring, it didn't matter if his clothes showed it.

He opted for the dark green knit sweater that Ilya swore brought out his eyes, no matter that Shane protested that green did nothing for brown eyes. He had matched it with the dark wash jeans he was wearing, fitting tight around his thighs, which might be a bad decision considering Ilya could never keep his hands off him when he was wearing these. His white Reeboks stuck out against the rest of his outfit, but his mom would kill him if he was photographed while wearing anything else.

The house was quiet without Ilya, and he had gotten so used to his boyfriend wrapping around him any chance he got, that even the bathroom and kitchen felt empty without him. Even though he was skittish and nervous, he also felt some sense of calm, knowing that there were no expectations for him tonight.

He grabbed his keys and phone, quickly swiping out their still opened text thread to put in the address to Monk's. He knew Ilya had his car with him, considering it wasn't in the garage, and although he was completely planning to go home together tonight, it would be less suspicious if they left in separate cars. And it wasn't like he planned to drink, since he rarely did that anyway.

The drive to the bar only took ten minutes, most of it being in the direction of the Centaurs Arena. It felt weird that he had never been to the spot that Ilya and his teammates seemed to frequent, and that he even had to follow directions to get there.

The closer he got, the more nervous he got. His hands were shaking lightly where he had them on the steering wheel, and he almost considered turning around, before he realized how much it would mean to Ilya if he showed up. And it would be fine, he would say that he was in the neighborhood, which wasn't unheard of since his parents lived in Ottawa, and he would introduce himself as Ilya's friend. It would be okay.

He didn't know if he was trying to convince himself, or if it was simply the truth laid bare. Factually he knew the Centaurs were good guys, Ilya had said so on multiple occasions, and it had been proved when he saw their support of Troy at Pride Night. Seeing the team huddled around him, proudly watching him as he publicly came out, had settled something inside Shane, even though he also felt a sting of jealousy.

He had met a few of the guys here and there, at the summer camps of the Irina Foundation, or at earlier All Star Games. Separately he knew they were good, but there was a difference between supporting a teammate that came out, or finding out your captain had been in a relationship with his rival for years. There was nothing that could prepare a man for that.

But that wasn't what he was planning to reveal tonight, as he reminded himself when he parked his car outside the bar. Suddenly he was nervous about something else. He knew Ilya had wanted him to meet his team for so long, but what if it wasn't at all what he wanted to be doing tonight? What if Shane was just crashing a fun team night, showing up being all awkward with nothing to say?

He took a deep breath, composing himself for whatever situation he would be encountering. He had thought about this for days on end, preparing what he was going to say, how he was going to act and how he would make the best impression on the team that had so quickly become Ilya’s friends.

Once he wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans, he stepped out of the car, closing the door behind him and making his way to the entrance of the bar. The green neon letters above the door wrote out Monk’s, one of them flickering lightly, as if it wouldn’t be long until it stopped working entirely.

Shane stepped inside, taking in the groups of people scattered around the bar. It was loud, but not as noisy as some clubs in Montreal could be. There was no booming box of music, instead only a calm song mostly used as background noise, not intended to entertain their audience completely.

Laughter filled his ears and Shane breathed it in, trying to get used to his surroundings before taking the plunge to walk right into it. He scanned the bar, the almost empty floor in the middle, clearly reserved for people who wanted to dance, until his eyes settled on a booth in the back corner. It was easy to recognize Hayes, having worked with him multiple times over the past summers.

Next to him sat a younger boy, who Shane recognized as Haas, having ‘met’ on the ice. Although he looked even younger off of it. The two teammates were enough for him to make his way to the table, assuming that that was where Ilya and the rest of the team were.

When Shane got closer, he could see the mop of curls peeking over the booth, Ilya having his back turned to him. Perfect surprise then. He scurried closer until he stood next to their table. Haas’s eyes widened, while Hayes face lit up, opening his mouth to say something.

But Shane was faster, not wanting to let him ruin the surprise, and his voice was surprisingly steady, not at all representative of how he felt, when he said, “Mind if I join?”

Ilya’s head whipped around at world record speed, and Shane couldn’t help but grin at the shock written all over his face.

“What are you doing here?” Ilya asked breathlessly.

The man next to Ilya, that Shane vaguely recognized as Boodram, laughed, hitting him on his shoulder as he said, “Way to make a man feel welcome, Roz.”

Ilya turned to him, probably sending him an angry glare, but he turned back to Shane before anyone could even register it.

Shane tried to look casual, as he shrugged. “Had a few days off, was in town and you said you’d be here, so I thought I’d drop by for a while. If that’s okay?”

Ilya’s face lit up, breaking into a smile so wide that was usually reserved for Shane when they saw each other after a long time apart. It felt good to see it in public, and Shane felt warm, knowing that he was the one that put it there.

“Yes, very okay,” Ilya grinned, as he scooted over and patted on the spot next to him, gesturing for Shane to sit there.

“Nice to meet you all,” Shane said, looking around the table before dropping down next to his boyfriend. His hands ached to touch him, and with the way Ilya was beaming at him, he really, really wanted to kiss him. But he held himself back, casually settling his hands in his lap.

“We’re happy to have you, man,” someone across the table said.

Shane smiled and nodded back, while he turned the gears in his head to try and figure out who everyone was. As always, Ilya knew what he was thinking before Shane even had the chance to say it out loud, as he went around the table, introducing everyone.

“We have Bood, Barrett, who you already may know from when he used to cuss you out on the ice, and his much sweeter and funnier boyfriend Harris…”

“Seriously?” Troy groaned, but Harris didn’t seem to care about his boyfriend being insulted, because he was too busy beaming at Ilya singing his praises.

Ilya ignored Troy, grinning as he continued. “We have Chouinard here, next to him is Dykstra, Haas, and Hayes, who you already know.” He slung his right arm around Shane’s shoulder, and Shane blushed as he got pulled into Ilya, their sides pressed together. “Everyone, this is my very good friend Shane Hollander.”

Shane glanced up at Ilya, the weight of his arm steady and warm around him, and he noticed Ilya looking proudly around the table. He couldn’t believe that he had robbed him of this for so long, especially since he felt weirdly loved with how proud Ilya looked to only be able to call him his friend.

“So, you guys are actually friends?” Luca said, eyes widened in wonder, still star-struck seeing Shane Hollander sit around their table.

Ilya frowned, hugging Shane tighter, almost being too obvious. “Yes Luca, I have told you this multiple times.”

“Yeah… But you’re never seen around each other, and well…” Luca shrugged. “You kind of know how to exaggerate a bit.”

Ilya gasped, feigning shock as his left hand came up to grab his heart. “You thought I was lying?”

Shane could see that Ilya didn’t actually mind Luca asking that question, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty. The only reason they were actually questioning their friendship was because he never wanted to be seen together.

Shane was about to say something, although he didn’t yet know what, when Hayes popped into the conversation.

“Clearly you haven’t seen them together at the hockey camps,” Wyatt grinned, nudging Haas who was next to him. “They’re inseparable man, Roz is always chirping Hollzy here and getting flipped off for it.”

Shane stiffened under Ilya’s arm. Were they really that obvious? He always tried to keep a professional distance, the only exception being when they got caught making out by Ryan Price. He grimaced at the thought.

Ilya seemed to notice his discomfort, prompting to slide his arm off Shane’s shoulders and wrapping his hand around the glass in front of him. Shane immediately felt better, now being able to keep a casual distance. He had seen Ilya initiate physical contact with his friends before, so it shouldn’t have to be a problem, but one way or another, he felt like people would be able to see the chemistry between them.

“Hollander is just too easy to chirp,” Ilya said smoothly, smirking like the unspoken interaction between them hadn’t just happened. “Are so many jokes to make about boring Canadian.”

Shane huffed, nudging him with his shoulder. “Fuck off, asshole.”

Ilya turned to him, a slight smile dancing on his lips. This was familiar territory for them.

“Ah, I see what you mean, Hazy,” Dykstra cut in, chuckling at them.

Hayes sighed. “You haven’t seen nothing, man.”

“Hey, if you don’t like working with us, we can just call up another goalie to come help coach the kids,” Shane suggested, trying to keep his face as serious as possible.

“What? No!” Hayes spluttered, his eyes scanning back and forth between him and Ilya, trying to figure out if this was a real suggestion.

Ilya shrugged and dropped his head to hide the smile on his face. Shane took this as his confirmation that he could keep the act up a little more.

“Yeah, I mean I have my eyes on that new goalie for Detroit, I think his name is Maddox,” Shane continued. “He had a shutout his last game, and I think the three games before that as well. I could always call him up? I’m sure he would love to do it.”

“No! I love coaching the camps, I love the kids, having something to do in the summer,” Wyatt scrambled to say, about to open his mouth again, when he caught Shane smirking at him. Wyatt squinted his eyes, pointing his finger at him. “You’re fucking with me.”

Shane laughed freely now. “I’m sure he would love to, but yes, for now I think we’re good with just you.”

But Wyatt just sighed, clearly relieved. “Thank god, man.”

Laughter went around the table, most of it aimed at Hayes, with a few faraway comments thrown their way.

“Hollzy’s got jokes!”

“Hazy, I have not even seen you this scared when you have a puck coming at you!”

“Roz, why did you keep him to yourself for so long?”

Ilya laughed with them, his eyes twinkling as he made eye contact with him. Shane blushed at the attention, pleased with how easily the team embraced his presence, and how Ilya seemed to have fun having him here.

The rest of the conversations flowed easier than Shane thought they would, and he found out that he could actually engage with them a lot. They started off talking about hockey, with that being the thing they had most in common, but eventually Ilya’s teammates started talking about other things.

Somewhere in between conversations, someone set a drink in front of him. When he noticed it was a ginger ale, he knew Ilya must have asked someone to get it. He shuffled closer to him, almost feeling the warmth of his body even though they weren't touching. He smiled at Ilya, who rotated towards him, clearly feeling it too.

No one else noticed that Ilya happened to know Shane’s favorite drink and just continued talking. Shane let everything wash over him.

Pictures of kids were shown, and the conversation ended up with Ilya begging Harris to show pictures of his kids, which were of course the many dogs at the Harris farm. The married men around the table bragged about their wives, and not in the way Shane was used to with Montreal.

They weren't talking about how much pussy they got or the freaky stuff they finally got to try out in the bedroom, after begging until it was impossible for their wife to say no. Instead, they bragged about date nights, how beautiful they looked, or how hard they worked at their jobs. Every one of Ilya’s teammates seemed not only happy to have a wife, but they were also happy to be a husband.

Hayes boasted about his massaging skills, and how he could make Lisa relax after a long shift at the hospital. Bood disagreed, swearing Cassie said he had golden fingers. They went back and forth for a while, and Shane could only smile, letting out a chuckle every now and then.

It only confirmed what Ilya had been telling him for ages. This was a good team.

Ilya nudged him, watching him intensely, and leaning in as he whispered, “They are good, yes?”

“Yeah,” Shane nodded, smiling back at him.

The answer clearly satisfied Ilya, and he turned back to the group. “Enough, enough, you both win. Unless you both want to give me a massage right now, so I can settle the score?”

Everyone laughed, and Bood made grabby fingers towards Ilya. “Come here, Roz, let me show you what these fingers are made of.”

Ilya made a big show of turning his back towards Bood, now facing Shane and giving him a wink. Bood put his hands on Ilya’s shoulders, and pressed his fingers in deep, kneading the tight muscles below them.

Ilya moaned loudly, though exaggerated the sound went right to Shane’s dick, which was unfortunate, because he really couldn’t get hard right now. Ilya clearly noticed, because he winked again, his gaze trailing down Shane’s body. It was dangerous, even for him, and Shane slightly shook his head, making sure Ilya wouldn’t be trying anything else.

Ilya gave him a stiff nod and straightened his back.

Bood responded by letting his hands fall off his shoulders. “Did I win?”

“Sure, you win,” Ilya said, his lips turning into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey! I didn’t even get a turn yet,” Hayes said exasperated.

Bood grinned. “Didn’t need to get a turn to know the real winner, I guess.”

Shane noticed a change in Ilya’s demeanor after that, less comfortable around his team and a bit more stiff than usual. He knew he was the cause for that, making a big deal out of something that clearly nobody else noticed. And he hadn’t wanted to do that. Obviously, Ilya couldn’t control the way Shane reacted to him doing something. In any other situation, Ilya would already be teasing him with how easily he was affected.

He tried to focus on everyone around him, but he couldn’t ignore the way Ilya’s fingers twitched around his glass, as if he wanted to touch Shane, but knew that he wasn’t allowed to. Shane was itching to reach out and hold him and tell him that it was okay, but he couldn’t do it.

He had come here with a clear plan to make Ilya feel better, but watching the grimace on his face, it looked like he was only making it worse. Shane knew he wasn’t the only one to blame, they both agreed to make their appearances as friends first, but he didn’t know how to act friendly with Ilya.

Every time they touched, he just wanted more and more. If he allowed Ilya to touch him now, he wasn’t sure he would be able to stop. He couldn’t let that happen. So, he kept his distance. Even now, when they were so close, it felt like they were light years away.

Shane fiddled with the coaster in front of him, trying to calm his nerves. Ilya’s eyes flicked over to him, and he raised his eyebrows, as a silent: ‘Are you okay?’. Shane nodded, his smile wobblier than he wanted. Besides everything, Ilya was still checking on him, as thoughtful as always. He blinked away the tears prickling behind his eyes, refusing to let this be the night that he finally let them fall.

He joined in every now and then but mostly kept to himself for the rest of the night.

After a while Dykstra stood up, gesturing at the rest to do the same. “Everybody, lets dance!”

Everyone started groaning, but Shane could see them smiling as they stood up. Barrett was the only one staying seated, but not for long, because Harris was pulling on his arm, begging for his boyfriend to come with him. Troy indulged Harris immediately, not even bothering to keep the ruse going. 

Shane racked his brain for an excuse not having to dance, considering he was very bad at it and also didn’t really feel like trying.

“We will sit this one out I think,” Ilya said, winking at Shane.

He felt better instantly, not having to be the only one who backed out. But of course, they couldn’t let it be, obviously way too excited to have Ilya here with them for once.

Bood threw his hands up, gesturing wildly at the random people scuffled on the makeshift dance floor. “Come on, Roz, show us what you’ve got, huh?”

“Yeah, where are all those moves, you had in Boston?” Dykstra said, moving his hips around in a suggestive way.

It didn’t even come close to how sexy Ilya was when he danced, and Shane had seen that firsthand on a dance floor in Montreal. Even though he didn’t like to think about it, it wasn’t a secret that he had been secretly aroused by Ilya that night. And as much as he would like to see those moves again, Shane could feel himself panicking at the thought of Ilya giving in and leaving him alone at the table.

“Eh no,” Ilya doubled down. “I have very important Foundation business to discuss with Shane here.”

Shane blushed, as he still did every time Ilya publicly addressed him by his first name. It was stupid, considering the whole first-name debate had been so long ago, and he should be used to it by now. Except he wasn’t, and Ilya was calling him ‘Shane’ towards his teammates like it was a normal thing to do.

He shot a thankful smile Ilya’s way and cleared his throat. “Yes, a lot of planning to do for the upcoming summer.”

After a lot of grumbling and complaining, the Centaurs took off and left them alone.

“Thank you,” Shane said earnestly, turning his body to face Ilya.

Ilya smiled. “You do not have to thank me for this, lyubimyy, I know you do not like to dance.”

“Yeah,” Shane sighed. “You could have though.”

Ilya nudged him. “I would not have been able to enjoy myself if I knew you were sitting here alone.”

It was completely unnecessary, but incredibly thoughtful and Shane could feel the heat creeping up his neck. This was the side of Ilya barely anyone got to see, and Shane wouldn’t know how to explain to anyone how sweet Ilya could be, but to him it was glaringly obvious.

“You like them?” Ilya asked, raising his brows in question.

“Yeah,” Shane nodded. “You were right you know, they’re really nice. It’s a good team.”

Ilya gave him a curt nod and his eyebrows creased, undeniably thinking about something.

Shane frowned. “What is wrong?”

It could be hard to read Ilya, and even though they got better at communicating, Shane still found himself wondering what he was thinking sometimes.

“I knew you were free, but then you did not say if you were coming to Ottawa,” Ilya started, nervously circling the rim of his glass, before turning his attention to Shane and continuing. “I thought maybe you did not want to come? But now you show up here and suddenly want to meet my team?”

Shane froze, anxiety creeping over him. “You didn’t want me to?”

“Of course I wanted you to!” Ilya said a little too loud, and Shane flinched.

“Sorry,” Ilya grimaced, and his voice was softer as he said, “Of course I did. I have wanted you to come with me for months.”

“I know,” Shane sighed. “I didn’t want to tell you, in case I backed out. I didn’t want to get your hopes up and then disappoint you.”

He stared at the table, not wanting to look at Ilya. It was hard to explain, and he knew Ilya would try to understand anyway. Sometimes it was too much. Sometimes he wanted Ilya to get angry at him again, like he did on Boxing Day. Sometimes it felt like that was the only time that Ilya was truly, completely honest with him.

“Sweetheart, I could never be disappointed with you,” Ilya sighed, reaching out to touch Shane’s hand on the table.

Shane jerked back slightly, his voice high as he said, “You can't say that here, and you can't touch me like that.” He looked around if anyone caught that, and of course they didn’t, because no one was watching them, everyone too busy being involved in their own things.

The damage was already done as Ilya stiffened, moving back on his seat, creating an even bigger distance between them. Shane felt that with everything that was in him and he regretted saying it right away.

“I'm sorry,” he mumbled, feeling the need to do something about the cold tension between them.

Ilya looked sad. “I know.”

“I don’t want you to be afraid to touch me,” Shane said quietly, once again fumbling with his own coaster. The top layer was almost completely peeled off, so he gave it one last tug. Instead of coming off entirely, the last bit tore, leaving him with a broken coaster and with what felt like a broken relationship.

He choked back a laugh at the symbolism, tears forming in his eyes.

“Shane, look at me,” Ilya said, getting his attention.

He looked up, and Ilya was watching him, his beautiful face set in a worried frown. Shane wanted to kiss it off him, but he couldn’t, so instead the energy went to his leg, now rapidly moving up and down.

Ilya shuffled closer, putting his hand on Shane’s thigh, trying to calm him down, but Shane recoiled as if it struck. He wished he hadn’t, because his boyfriend looked saddened at the idea that Shane had felt the need to do that.

“It is okay, no one cares.” Ilya smiled softly and gestured to the dance floor, where Troy and Harris were pressed up together, the rest of the team dancing around them, not having a care in the world.

Shane’s eyes roamed around, taking notice of other people around the couple, but they didn’t even seem to look twice at two guys dancing up against each other. His eyes burned, and he didn’t know if it was jealousy what he was feeling, or something completely different.

He was angry at himself for flinching again, he was maybe angry at Ilya for putting him in a situation where he had to flinch again, but he was mostly angry that it couldn’t be a simple for them as it was for any other queer couple.

People could be out and proud. Dance together. And instead he sat here, keeping a respectable distance from his boyfriend, his hands to himself, in case someone suddenly decided to crawl underneath the table and saw them holding each other.

He tore his gaze away from Ilya’s dancing teammates, instead looking at the man himself besides him. And the worst part was that Ilya nodded at him, still smiling, as if he understood what Shane was thinking and was okay with him once again putting distance between them.

Shane couldn’t take it anymore, and mumbled, “I can't.”

He stood up, sliding out of the booth, pretending that he didn’t see the broken-hearted look on his Ilya’s face as he left. Even though ran out would be a better word for what he did. He made his way to the exit as fast as he could, moving past groups of people huddled together, mumbling a few sorrys, as he squeezed between them. When he finally got outside, he let out a breath, leaning against the wall in the alley next to the bar.

This wasn’t at all how he planned for tonight to go. It was supposed to be a good night not whatever shitshow it had turned into. Or worse, that he had made it turn into. Because it was very clear to Shane that this wasn’t anyone’s fault but his.

Ilya hadn’t done anything crazy. He had just wanted to hold Shane, underneath the table, out of sight from everyone, and even that had been too much.

He sank to the ground, not caring if it was dirty. He didn’t want to leave just yet, knowing that Ilya was inside, and he was pretty sure they wouldn’t be going home together tonight. He tried focusing on his breathing, hopefully staving off a panic attack.

Shane sat there for a few minutes, when his phone buzzed with a notification, and he fumbled to get it out of his pocket, desperate for a distraction.

He ignored how his hands were shaking, taking way too long to find the button to turn it on. It wasn’t what he hoped. It wasn’t a text from Rose, telling him about a movie, or a text from Hayden asking him to come over for dinner. It was a notification from Instagram.

Ilyarozanov81 added a post

Shane clicked on it, his chest heaving. In about two seconds he would see a picture of Ilya having fun with his teammates. He would be fine with Shane leaving, getting to dance with them, instead of sitting around, having a serious conversation in the middle of a bar.

He should have known what it would be. Ilya’s Instagram was one of the reasons Shane realized how much he actually cared. Just like this time. He finally let a tear slip from his eyes, as he looked at the post.

It was a picture of the table, their coasters the only thing in frame. Ilya’s still had his glass on it, while Shane’s was rearranged, the torn off part carefully on top of it, almost seeming whole again. They were nearly touching, only an inch apart, reminding Shane of how close together him and Ilya had been sitting. The post was captioned.

Nights are always fun at Monk’s💓

It was almost too much. Once again, the post was dedicated to Shane, as were all the others on Ilya’s Instagram. He could have posted about anything and anyone, and even though Shane ran away, he still posted about this.

His phone slipped out of his fingers, and he couldn’t care less as it fell flat on the ground. Shane pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his face in his hands. Everything backfired. His plan to surprise Ilya was supposed to have been fun, not whatever this was.

And all because he was scared. Why did he have to be so scared? They wouldn’t be the first out players in the league, Scott Hunter already had that title. Ilya had a good contract with the Centaurs, and they were good people, who most likely wouldn’t drop him if they knew he was bisexual. And Ilya was clearly not too worried about Russia, especially since they had contingency plans in place if they were to get outed.

So why was Shane so scared? He was already out to his teammates, which was a shitshow, sure, but how much worse could it get?

Yes, there were many reasons, but those reasons would still exist a year from now. Or in three years. How long would he be able to stick it out? If he was already aching to touch Ilya now, how would he fare years from now?

Maybe he had been holding himself back for too long. Maybe he had been too busy thinking about what he might lose, that he hadn’t considered that being the reason he lost Ilya. Shane was fairly certain Ilya wouldn’t leave him, but that was the problem wasn’t it? He would stick it out with Shane, even until they retired for god’s sake.

Everything Ilya had done was for Shane. He moved to Ottawa. He was prepared to give up Russia. And Shane was here, worried about what? Losing hockey?

Months ago, he had told Ilya he would choose him over hockey, but what did Ilya have to show for it? Shane flinching away when he tried to touch him under the table? A lousy joke told to his friends, to make them believe that they actually talked now, instead of only being rivals?

It hadn’t been just words, he had meant it when he said it. He would choose Ilya over hockey if it came to it. But it hadn’t come to it yet, so for now they were just words. And now that Shane was thinking about it, thinking about Ilya’s face when he had said that, thinking about what he looked like just now, understanding but in pain, because he was not able to touch him, Shane didn’t know if his boyfriend believed him.

There was one thing he could do to make him believe it.

Shane lifted his head, resting it against the wall, and breathed in deeply. He let himself feel. Not the fear or the anger. Not his anxiety. Not anything like that.

Instead, he closed his eyes and thought about Ilya. Thought about summers at the cottage. Swimming in the lake, free to show affection in some public setting, without anyone seeing it. Dinners with his parents, who maybe loved Ilya as a son more than they did Shane.

He thought about love confessions in Russian, whispered in a tunnel after maybe one of the worst days of Ilya’s life, but he had decided to call Shane. He thought about being on the same team at All-Stars, able to celebrate a goal together, without anyone thinking twice about it.

He thought about the Irina Foundation, born out of Ilya finally sharing the most broken parts from his childhood. And how they were transforming that for the better, donating money to mental health. Creating hockey camps, that were inclusive and open to all kids who just wanted a chance to skate.

He thought about how good Ilya was with those kids, and how when he saw that he so desperately wanted a family of his own with him, Anya being their trial run for it.

How long could he wait to have that? Because he wanted those things now. And he wanted to share everything about their life with their friends, even with the rest of the world, although they didn’t owe anyone anything.

He wanted Ilya to be able to touch him openly. Show him affection like he did in the quiet moments at home. But not only did he want that, he wanted to touch Ilya too. He wanted to snuggle up to him. He wanted to add to conversations, and brag about what a great boyfriend Ilya was.

He wanted everything. And he would do anything to make sure he didn’t lose it. That he wouldn’t lose Ilya.

Shane sat up straighter, breathing in again. He was determined to show Ilya how much he cared about him, and he would make sure he never doubted it again. He loved Ilya, more than he loved anything, and he would show him that. For Ilya, he would be brave.

He shook his hands, literally shaking off his nerves as he stood up and made his way to the entrance again. The neon letters of Monk’s still stood out in the dark of night, one of them now officially flickered out.

He stepped inside, moving through groups of people who not too long ago had seen him leave, although no one seemed to recognize him. Maybe he overestimated his importance in Ottawa. Not many people cared, just like they hadn’t cared about Troy and Harris dancing.

He kept walking, and it didn’t take too long before his eyes found Ilya, now having joined his friends on the dance floor. He was dancing with his hands above his head, completely in his own world.

Shane stood there for a moment, enthralled with how beautiful Ilya looked.

But there was something in his movements. He was next to his team, but he wasn’t dancing with them. He was dancing alone. Leaving space in front of him, as if he was waiting for someone.

Shane’s heart clenched. Ilya knew he had left, he had seen him do it, but still he left space for him, hoping he would return.

He felt himself get angry at how selfish he was, but pushed it away. That wasn’t what he needed to be feeling right now.  

He breathed in deeply, forcing himself to walk over to his boyfriend, one foot in front of the other. He kept looking at Ilya while he was walking towards him, unable to tear his eyes away.

Ilya didn’t notice him, his eyes closed while he was dancing.

Shane stopped right in front of him. “Hi.”

Ilya’s arms dropped and he stilled. It took him a second to open his eyes as if it didn’t register that Shane was actually in front of him. He stuck his hand out, as if to touch Shane, but dropped it again, deciding to say something instead.

“What are you still doing here?”  

Shane smiled sadly. He knew Ilya dropped his hand on his accord. But luckily, he was here to rectify that.

“I love you,” Shane said.

“I know,” Ilya answered, but his expression was pained as he said it.  

Shane shook his head. “No, I don’t think you do.” He moved closer as he placed one hand on Ilya’s cheek, forcing him to look at him. His other hand grabbed Ilya’s, and pushed it onto his chest, right above his heart.

“This,” Shane said firmly, as he felt his heart thumping hard below their hands. “My heart, it beats for you. Without you I would be nothing but an empty shell. Shane Hollander is nothing if he couldn’t love Ilya Rozanov, you understand?”

Ilya nodded quietly, tears forming in his eyes.

Shane smiled, brushing his finger over Ilya’s forehead and pushing a wild curl to the side. “I don’t care about all the people here, I don’t care about the league, I don’t care about hockey, I only need you.”

“Shane—," Ilya choked out a sob while shaking his head.

“I love you,” Shane interrupted him. “I love you more than anything, you understand me?”

He was aware of all the people around him, some even looking in their direction, watching everything unfold. But he only had eyes for his boyfriend, the tears in his eyes as if he couldn’t believe Shane might actually do something like this. Shane had never seen him look so unsure, and it broke his heart.

Maybe that’s when he decided it. Or maybe it was when he came barging back into the bar, desperate to wipe the uncertainty off his boyfriend’s face. Or maybe it was when he planned his surprise visit, unknowingly ready for something more. Or even earlier this year, when he had been scrolling through Ilya’s Instagram, and finding out it was a shrine dedicated to their relationship. Or maybe when they fought on boxing day, and Ilya asked him if he would choose hockey over him, and Shane had known in his heart that when it came to it, he would always, always choose Ilya, even when he had not been ready to permanently say it out loud.

Shane knew he might regret this in the morning. But there was only one thing he needed right now, whole world be damned. And if Ilya didn’t know what ends Shane would go to to make him happy, Shane would show him.

Ilya looked beautiful, the soft lights turning his curls almost into a golden color. His eyes were glassy, but somehow that made the icy blue color stand out even more. The love of his life, who didn’t even know how lost Shane would be if he didn’t have him.

Their hands were still tangled together on top of his heart and Shane’s other hand moved to the nape of Ilya’s neck, pulling him a little closer. Ilya’s eyes widened, searching his face for an inkling of what was happening.

“I love you,” Shane said, smiling softly, and then repeating, “I love you. I love you. I love you,” until there was nothing left but his words, and Shane was never surer of anything in his life when he surged forward and pressed their lips together.

The bar became a blur around them, the loud noise of people talking over each other reduced to a murmur, the dancing merely an accessory to their quiet bubble.

Ilya froze as if he wasn’t sure that this was actually happening but instinctively leaned into him anyway. Shane shifted closer, stepping forward so he could press their bodies together head to toe, and he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. That was when Ilya’s free hand came around his waist, pulling him in even closer and he licked into Shane’s mouth with the desperation of a man who had been denied of this for years.

They stood there kissing, for what might have been minutes or hours, in the middle of the dance floor of a random bar in Ottawa. Shane dropped his hand from where it was stuck between their bodies and buried it in Ilya’s curls, his other hand moving to grip tight onto the back of Ilya’s shirt. In turn Ilya grabbed the back of Shane’s head, tightening his fingers deep into his hair.

Pulling and grabbing at each other their kiss turned filthier than it should for two people who had an audience, but neither of them cared. They were in a bar, where it was common practice anyway, and they had years to make up for. And where Shane would normally feel worried and aware of all the eyes on him, he felt safe here in Ilya’s arms. Whatever came at them from this point forward, they would face it together.

They finally broke away, a line of spit still connecting their lips. Ilya was looking at him, and Shane thought he could finally see the heart eyes Hayden mentioned not that long ago. His pupils were dilated, and his eyes were completely focused on Shane, while his mouth curved into a lazy smile.

“What are you doing?” Ilya breathed.

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” Shane said, grinning up at Ilya.

Ilya’s smile grew wider. “You are insane.”

Shane tilted his head and let his eyes roam over Ilya’s face, taking in every ounce of happiness displayed on it. “You love it.”

“I do,” Ilya grinned. “So, so much.”

Shane leaned in again, opting for a small peck on the lips this time. But apparently Ilya had other ideas, kissing him just as fiercely as he had done mere seconds ago.

That’s when Shane heard noise swelling up. He could feel the fear already creeping in, but then he realized it wasn’t booing what he was hearing. It was cheering.

He pushed Ilya away, in favor of being able to look around, but he pulled him close, not wanting to let him go now that he was finally allowed to touch. Ilya’s arm came around his waist, and he pressed a kiss to Shane’s temple. Shane snuck a glance at him, and he saw Ilya beaming at everyone around them.

People were clapping, the Centaurs being the closest, but also loudest, whooping and hollering at them. Shane wasn’t completely sure if any of these people knew who they were cheering for, but it felt good regardless.

Shane tilted his head, whispering in Ilya’s ear. “I love you.”

“I know,” Ilya said, smiling at him, and this time there was nothing unsure about it.

And just for that it was worth it.