Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

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, Hayden Pike, Jackie Pike

Additional Tags:

Texting Fic, WAG Ilya Rozanov, Not Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Fluff and Crack, Mistaken Identity

Language:

English

Series:

Part 1 of Wine Night, Eventually

Stats:

Published: 2025-12-30 Completed: 2025-12-31 Words: 12,098 Chapters: 7/7

Wine Night, Eventually

Summary

Ilya Rosanov gets added to a group chat under the wrong name and doesn’t correct it.

The Montreal WAGs are open and inviting.
What follows isn’t a lie so much as a pattern — one that becomes harder to undo the longer it goes on.

No one knows the truth.
Not the hockey world, and not the group chat.

Until they do.

By the time it arrives, everyone is already involved.

Notes

hiiii! I was inspired & could NOT get WAG ilya out of my head so here we are :)

• Inspired by please leave a message by subcorax

Chapter 1: one

Ilya is on Shane’s couch when it happens, which feels like a detail that should matter more than it does.

The couch is expensive in a way that pretends not to be—neutral fabric, deep cushions, the kind of furniture chosen to suggest adulthood without committing to taste. Montreal afternoon light slips through the blinds in pale stripes, catching on the edge of a practice bag, the heel of Ilya’s sock, the glass of water sweating on the coffee table. He’s folded in on himself out of habit, not discomfort. Guests do that. Even when they’ve been told they aren’t guests.

The apartment smells like detergent and stick tape and whatever Shane insists isn’t cologne. The bathroom door is shut. The shower has been running long enough that steam will have softened the mirror, the edges of Shane’s voice when he talks to himself in there, the tight coil he always brings home after practice.

Ilya scrolls because it’s easier than thinking. He scrolls because North America has taught him this reflex: phone in hand, attention split, silence filled with movement. He’s halfway through a news article he isn’t really reading when his phone vibrates.

Once.

Then again.

Then—

Mara added Lily to “Away Crew.”

Ilya blinks.

Lily.

The name sits at the top of the screen, neat and unbothered, like it’s always belonged there. He reads it twice, waiting for recognition to click into place. It doesn’t. It’s just a name. A soft one. A name without weight.

Below it, the chat loads.

Away Crew
Mara. Noelle. Rin. Tess.

Four names. Not the big group. Something smaller. Purpose-built. The kind of chat that exists to get things done, not to be loud about it.

A message appears almost immediately.

Mara: Hey! Hope this is okay — we realized Shane’s partner wasn’t in here and figured it was overdue.

Partner, not girlfriend. That helps.

Another message follows, a beat later.

Mara: Also, I had your number saved as Lily from the Boston trip — please correct me if that’s wrong!

Ilya exhales slowly.

So that’s it. A label applied out of convenience, not curiosity. It doesn’t feel malicious. It feels practical. Correcting it would mean explaining, and explaining would mean deciding how much of himself to hand over to a room he has just entered.

He looks at the name again.

Lily doesn’t come with history. Lily doesn’t raise eyebrows. Lily doesn’t invite questions.

For now, Lily can stay.

The others chime in, spaced and unhurried.

Noelle: hi!!
Tess: hello 😊
Rin: welcome 💛

They don’t flood him. They don’t interrogate. The chat pauses, like they’re waiting to see what kind of presence Lily will be.

Ilya types.

Deletes.

Types again.

English always asks him to choose between precision and safety. He chooses safety.

Lily: hi

It lands. Gently.

Noelle: polite queen
Tess: omg hi
Rin: hi! glad you’re here
Mara: This chat’s mostly for travel chaos + venting. Super low pressure.

Low pressure. He files that away.

Lily: thank you. my english is not great. sorry if slow.

Rin: you’re doing great
Noelle: english is fake anyway
Tess: agreed

The warmth is quiet. It doesn’t demand anything from him.

Down the hall, the shower shuts off. Steam escapes when the bathroom door opens, and Shane’s voice follows it—muffled, distracted, already decompressing. Ilya keeps reading, watching the rhythm of the chat settle into something manageable.

Schedules. Flights. A complaint about hotel coffee.

When Lily answers, she answers simply.

Lily: bus usually leaves early on back-to-backs.
Lily: traffic bad near arena tonight.

Mara: 👍
Noelle: thank you!!

The chat moves on.

It’s easy. That’s the dangerous part.

Shane emerges shirtless, hair damp, towel slung low on his hips. He heads straight for the kitchen, opens the fridge, stares into it like it has personally failed him.

“What’re you doing?” he asks, glancing over.

“Nothing,” Ilya says automatically.

Shane hums, unconvinced but uninterested in pushing. He grabs a water, twists the cap with his teeth, drinks half in one go. “You want food?”

“Later.”

Ilya’s phone vibrates again.

Mara: Are you in Montreal right now or still Boston-based?

He answers without thinking.

Lily: montreal now.

Tess: yay
Noelle: if you ever want to sit with us at a game, just say so
Rin: no pressure!

No pressure again. He appreciates the repetition.

Before he can stop himself, he adds:

Lily: shane is in shower. i am on couch.

The response is immediate, but contained.

Noelle: LMAO
Tess: 😭
Rin: “i am on couch” is killing me
Mara: relatable honestly

Ilya’s mouth curves. He doesn’t let it become a smile.

Shane drops onto the couch beside him, towel gone now, sweatpants on, hair still damp at the ends. His knee presses into Ilya’s thigh, familiar and grounding.

“You’re smiling,” Shane says.

“I am not.”

“You are,” Shane says, pleased. “Who’re you texting?”

“A group chat,” Ilya says.

“With who?”

Ilya lifts the phone slightly, then lowers it again. “Montreal.”

Shane squints. “That’s not an answer.”

“It is,” Ilya says calmly.

Shane watches him for a moment, curiosity flickering, then lets it go. He leans back, arm stretching along the back of the couch behind Ilya like an afterthought.

The phone buzzes again.

Noelle: okay serious question
Noelle: what is shane like at home

Ilya considers the truth—how Shane softens in quiet, how he gets worse before he gets better, how he wants closeness but hates asking for it.

He types something else.

Lily: same. but less clothes.

The chat pauses, then resumes with contained delight.

Tess: OH
Rin: 😂
Mara: fair answer
Noelle: noted

Shane glances over. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing important,” Ilya says.

Shane laughs softly. “You’re being weird.”

“You are always weird,” Ilya says.

“Rude,” Shane says, but he’s smiling.

Later, when the chat quiets and the apartment settles, Ilya reads back through the messages. Not obsessively. Carefully. He notices how often Lily is tagged now. How quickly people accept her presence.

By the end of the week, Lily has answered more questions than she’s asked.

No one has asked to meet her directly. Not yet. But the idea hovers at the edges of conversation—eventually, next time, when schedules line up.

Ilya sets his phone face-down on his thigh, letting the vibration hum through the fabric. Shane’s shoulder presses into his. The TV murmurs something forgettable.

They call him Lily.

For now, he lets them.

Wine night, he thinks—not now, not soon.

Eventually.

Chapter 2: two

Chapter Notes

i just love the WAGSSSS!!! thank you so much for all of the kudos already!! this will be a shorter fic but i've already written a good amount :)

The thing about the Away Crew chat is that it doesn’t ask Lily to be interesting.
It asks her to be available.

That turns out to be easier.

Days stack quietly. Weeks follow. The chat wakes early and sleeps late, its rhythm shaped by flight delays and practice schedules and the strange limbo that comes from living half your life in other cities. Ilya reads everything. He answers what he knows. He doesn’t speculate. He doesn’t vanish halfway through a conversation.

Lily: bus leaves earlier on back-to-backs.
Lily: hotel pharmacy closes at ten.
Lily: traffic worse if game goes to OT.

Noelle reacts with a skull emoji.
Tess thanks her like she’s been rescued.
Rin saves the messages without comment.

Mara starts tagging Lily directly.

It isn’t a decision. It’s efficiency. Lily answers quickly. Lily doesn’t editorialize. Lily doesn’t make things harder than they need to be. The chat adapts around that, the way systems always do when something works.

By the end of the second week, Lily is no longer new.

Later, the chat drifts into nothing in particular.

Tess: does anyone else forget socks exist until it’s too late
Noelle: every single time
Rin: i pack like i’m going to war and still forget socks

Lily: socks are important
Lily: feet get sad without them

Noelle: this feels like a threat
Lily: it is concern
Tess: i trust lily with my life now

Someone sends a photo of mismatched footwear. Someone else reacts with a skull. The conversation dissolves into jokes that don’t require replies.

Ilya doesn’t leave.
He doesn’t need to be entertaining. Just present.

Shane notices in pieces.

Not the content — Shane has never been particularly interested in content — but the timing. Ilya checks his phone while water boils, while commercials run, while Shane is tying his skates at the edge of the bed. It isn’t furtive. It isn’t obsessive.

It’s purposeful.

“You’ve got a lot going on,” Shane says one night, leaning against the counter while Ilya scrolls.

“I always had things,” Ilya says.

Shane hums. “Yeah, but this feels… organized.”

Ilya looks up. “It is.”

Shane watches him for a second longer than usual, eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “Who are you texting?”

“A group chat.”

“With who?”

Ilya shrugs. “People.”

Shane snorts. “You’re the worst at answering questions.”

“It is a skill,” Ilya says.

Shane grins. “You in some WAGs thing?”

“Yes.”

Shane lights up immediately, delighted in a way that feels almost boyish. “No way.”

“Yes.”

“You?” Shane laughs. “You’re in a WAGs chat?”

Ilya waits. He doesn’t know what he’s waiting for — jealousy, maybe, or teasing that tips too far. It doesn’t come.

“Do you guys talk about me?” Shane asks.

“Sometimes.”

“Am I hot?”

Ilya considers him — the way he fills space without meaning to, the way he reaches for Ilya without looking. “Yes.”

Shane beams. “Knew it.”

He flops onto the couch beside Ilya, bumping shoulders and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “Do you get, like, a membership card? A welcome email?”

“I am very official,” Ilya says.

Shane laughs, satisfied, and the moment passes. He doesn’t ask what name Ilya uses. He doesn’t ask who else is there.

The pattern stays.

Ilya gets added to the big WAGs chat on a Thursday afternoon, quietly, like a door opening that no one announces.

Rin added Lily to “MTL WAGs.”

There’s no welcome message. No pause. Just noise already in progress.

A bad call.
A photo of someone’s dog in a jersey.
A question about seating.

Ilya scrolls. She doesn’t introduce herself. She doesn’t respond unless she’s asked directly.

The real work stays in Away Crew.

When flights get delayed, Lily knows which connections still work.
When someone panics about packing, Lily reminds them what actually matters.
When Tess spirals late at night, Lily responds without urgency — which somehow steadies her.

Tess: am i overreacting
Lily: you are reacting. that is allowed.

Tess sends a heart. Noelle reacts with prayer hands. The conversation moves on.

Shane reads over Ilya’s shoulder, chin resting there without asking.

“Do they ever sleep?” he asks.

“No.”

“Respect,” Shane says. “What are they talking about now?”

“Shoes.”

Shane squints at the screen. “Those are ugly.”

“They are practical.”

“That’s worse.”

Ilya smiles despite himself.

Shane nudges his shoulder. “You’re doing great, by the way.”

“At shoes?”

“At… this.” Shane gestures vaguely at the phone. “People stuff.”

Ilya hums. “I answer questions.”

“Exactly.” Shane grins. “Underrated skill.”

He presses a quick kiss to Ilya’s temple and goes back to what he was doing, unconcerned.

The chat keeps moving. The moment passes.

The pattern holds.

They have dinner together once with Hayden and Jackie, early in the season.

After Hayden somewhat got over the fact that Lily was Ilya and Ilya was Lily. Jackie was neutral and not as surprised as Shane, and he had expected.

The dinner was framed as casual — just food, just catching up — but it was never going to be. Ilya opens the door before Shane finishes drying his hands, because it feels right to do so. Jackie notices immediately. The way Shane moves through the house like it belongs to both of them. The way Ilya touches him without hesitation, uncareful and unperformed. Domestic in a way that doesn’t ask permission.

The table feels too small for the tension sitting at it. Plates clink too loudly. No one reaches for the wine at the same time.

Hayden hates him on sight.

Loudly. Theatrically. Enough to be unmistakable — clipped answers, a jaw that tightens whenever Ilya speaks, the kind of hostility that’s been practiced for years and never questioned. Jackie sees that too. She’s good at reading rooms, at understanding what people bring with them before they ever sit down.

By the time Shane says it — this is my boyfriend — Jackie is already there. The words don’t surprise her so much as confirm the shape of something she’s been watching all night. Hayden reacts badly. Not violently. Just… predictably. Lots of looks and comments made towards Ilya. Of course, Ilya bites right back.

“The food is delicious,” Jackie said, probably wanting to steer the conversation away from whatever crude comment came out of Ilya or Hayden's mouth. “I didn’t even know you cooked.”

“He’s full of surprises,” Hayden grumbled.

Jackie doesn’t look at Hayden when he bristles. She watches Shane instead.

Ilya could see the tension in Shane’s jaw and in his eyes.

“I got into cooking this past year,” Shane said. He took a sip of water, and Ilya noticed a slight tremor in his fingers as he set the glass back down. “It’s something we’ve been doing together, when we get the chance.”

Hayden glares at Ilya then.

After they both push too far, Shane has to intervene. He doesn’t back down.

His voice shakes when he talks about fear — about years of it — and Jackie understands then what’s actually at stake. This isn’t new. This isn’t reckless. This isn’t something that will be undone by a bad night or a bad opinion.

It’s years.

When the dinner ends, Jackie hugs Shane longer than she needs to. She hugs Ilya and makes a comment about him truly feeling like a true WAG now. She thanks Ilya for the food like she means more than that. Hayden leaves unconvinced.

After that, Jackie pays attention.

So when the group chat jokes, she reframes instead of reacting. When someone suggests meeting Lily in person, she steps in smoothly. When assumptions start to pile up, she redirects the weight.

Jackie has already seen what matters.

Then the trade breaks.

It happens mid-afternoon, when everyone is half-working and half-scrolling. A push notification. A headline that spreads faster than clarification ever could.

ILYA ROSANOV TRADED TO OTTAWA

The WAGs chat explodes.

Noelle: WAIT
Noelle: is this real
Tess: oh my god
Rin: what???

Someone posts a link. Someone posts a screenshot. Someone posts a meme and deletes it thirty seconds later.

Ilya reads everything.

He doesn’t react.

The tone isn’t cruel. That would be easier.

It’s shocked. Dismissive. Pitying in that casual way people get when something doesn’t affect them directly.

Noelle: why would anyone choose ottawa
Tess: i’m sorry but that team is cursed
Rin: is this… good for him?

Ilya types once.

Lily: sometimes change is good.

A beat.

Noelle: totally
Noelle: still couldn’t be me 😭

Someone jokes about the weather. Someone mentions cheap rent. The chat slides on.

In Away Crew, the reaction softens.

Mara: That’s a big move.
Rin: how are you & shane holding up? I bet the media is all over him.

Ilya answers honestly.

Lily: it is change. not sure how he feels yet.

Jackie joins a few minutes later.

She doesn’t comment on the jokes. She reframes.

Jackie: He wanted more ice time, right?
Jackie: That’s not nothing.

It’s neutral. Reasonable. Protective without announcing itself.

The conversation shifts.

They have dinner together a week later — Shane and Ilya, Jackie and Hayden — a normal thing on paper. Pasta. Wine. Hockey mentioned only in passing.

Jackie watches more than she speaks.

She notices how Ilya answers questions and how he lets others pass. Notices how Shane leans without realizing it. Notices the phone lighting up on the table, turned face-down without urgency.

She doesn’t ask anything that sounds like an accusation.

She asks how Ottawa feels.

“Different,” Ilya says.

Jackie nods, like she understands more than he’s offered.

After that, things change.

When someone suggests meeting Lily after a game, Jackie steps in easily.

“Oh, she’s swamped right now.”
“Travel’s weird lately.”
“Let’s plan something when things settle.”

No one argues. Jackie doesn’t make it sound like a decision.

The protection is subtle. Intentional. Effective.

Ilya notices.

He doesn’t comment.

By the time months pass, Lily is no longer a novelty.

She’s infrastructure.

People expect her to answer. They plan around her replies. No one knows her face. No one knows her voice.

Everyone knows her reliability.

Late one night, Rin messages privately.

Rin: hey — hope this isn’t strange
Rin: i just wanted to say i’m really glad you’re here

Ilya stares at the message longer than necessary.

Lily: not strange.
Lily: me too.

He sets the phone down and looks at Shane asleep beside him, arm heavy across his waist, breathing slow and even. The hockey world is loud and convinced of things it doesn’t understand.

Here, the pattern feels almost gentle.

And like all patterns that last long enough, it’s beginning to feel permanent.

Chapter 3: three

Chapter Notes

i am so happy everyone loves WAG ilya just as much as me!!! thanks for reading!!! i know this fic is shorter but i am writing another wrong number/texting au that is longer if you are interested :)

The first time someone suggests meeting Lily in person, it feels harmless.
Casual, even.

It happens in the big WAGs chat, buried between complaints about travel delays and a photo of someone’s dog wearing a tiny jersey.

Noelle: wait is lily ever actually in montreal??

The question hangs there, unthreatening.

Ilya is making coffee. He watches the steam curl upward, waits for it to settle before answering.

Lily: not much lately.

Noelle: omg that’s a crime
Tess: next home stand you HAVE to come out with us

A flurry of agreement follows. Wine emojis. Heart eyes. Someone suggests a restaurant Ilya has already researched and never been to.

Ilya types, deletes, types again.

Jackie: travel’s been brutal lately
Jackie: maybe once things calm down?

It’s phrased like a suggestion. It lands like a decision.

No one pushes.

Ilya sets his phone down and exhales slowly.

Later that night, the chat is loud in the way it only ever is when no one is actually doing anything.

Noelle: okay serious question
Noelle: does anyone know how to remove red wine from white linen

Tess: no ❤️
Rin: you simply accept your fate

Noelle: this is not helpful

Lily: cold water
Lily: immediately
Lily: do not rub

Tess: oh my god
Tess: lily saves another life

Rin: lily should charge for this

Noelle: i owe you my firstborn

Lily: keep it
Lily: sounds loud

Jackie reacts with a laughing emoji.

A photo appears — a glass tipped on its side, crimson spreading like an accusation across the tablecloth.

Tess: it’s already too late isn’t it

Lily: yes
Lily: but we can pretend we tried

Noelle: queen behavior

Shane glances over from the couch. “What are they calling you now?”

“Queen,” Ilya says.

Shane snorts. “Figures.”

He reaches over, stealing Ilya’s phone just long enough to read the screen before tossing it back.

“You’re doing great,” Shane adds, casual. Fond. “They really like you.”

Ilya watches the chat scroll — jokes landing, reactions stacking, nothing sharp enough to draw blood.

“Yes,” he says.

The word feels easy.

The chat doesn’t slow down after that. If anything, it gets dumber.

It starts with a photo.

Tess: okay be honest
Tess: does this look insane or is it just me

It’s a blurry mirror selfie taken in what looks like a hotel bathroom. Tess is wearing a sequined top that appears to be actively attacking her neckline.

Noelle: i’m crying
Noelle: why does it look like it’s trying to escape

Rin: that top is fighting for its life

Tess: RUDE
Tess: i thought it was fun

Lily: it is fun
Lily: but it is also aggressive

Noelle: lily 😭

Rin: “aggressive” is the perfect word

Tess: am i going to regret this

Lily: yes
Lily: but in a memorable way

The reactions stack up — laughing emojis, fire emojis, one deeply unhelpful devil face.

Shane peers over Ilya’s shoulder. “What’s aggressive?”

“A shirt.”

Shane squints at the screen. “That thing’s a weapon.”

“I said aggressive,” Ilya replies.

Shane grins. “You’re polite.”

The chat continues to spiral.

Noelle: follow up question
Noelle: is there a dress code we’re not telling each other about

Rin: if there is i missed it

Tess: same i packed vibes not outfits

Lily: vibes are acceptable
Lily: shoes matter more

Noelle: oh no
Noelle: lily has standards

Rin: drop the shoe wisdom

Lily: comfortable
Lily: black
Lily: shoes you can walk home in

Tess: that feels ominous

Lily: i am planning for success

Noelle: OR ESCAPE???

Lily: both are important

Someone reacts with a crown emoji.

Rin: why do i trust lily more than google

Tess: same
Tess: lily feels like she’s seen things

Ilya exhales softly through his nose, amused.

Shane bumps his knee into Ilya’s. “You sound mysterious.”

“I am practical.”

“That’s worse,” Shane says fondly.

The chat veers, as it always does.

Noelle: also unrelated but
Noelle: do you think men know how loud they chew

Rin: they do not

Tess: they would be stopped if they did

Lily: some men chew with confidence

Noelle: STOP

Rin: that’s terrifying

Tess: lily why are you like this

Lily: observant

Shane laughs out loud this time. “Okay, that one’s on you.”

“I listen,” Ilya says again.

The chat slows, laughter tapering off into the comfortable hum of people half-watching TV, half-scrolling, half-existing.

A few minutes pass.

Then:

Rin: okay real talk
Rin: wine night at mine next friday
Rin: lily you better be there

And just like that, the air shifts.

There’s a pause this time. Not long enough to be obvious, but long enough for Ilya to feel it.

He’s sitting on the couch, Shane’s legs draped across his lap, the game replay murmuring on the television. He can feel the warmth of him through the fabric of his sweatpants, solid and real and uncomplicated.

“What’s that face?” Shane asks, glancing over.

“No face.”

“That’s definitely a face.”

Ilya tilts the phone so Shane can see the screen.

Shane reads. Hums. “Wine night, huh?”

“Yes.”

“You should go.”

Ilya looks at him.

“I mean it,” Shane says. “You talk to these people constantly. Might be nice.”

“They want Lily,” Ilya says. “Not me.”

Shane shrugs, unbothered. “Aren’t those the same thing?”

They are. And they aren’t.

Before Ilya can answer, Jackie steps in.

Jackie: next friday’s tough
Jackie: she’s got a road swing right after, right?

The message is perfectly timed. Reasonable. Impossible to argue with.

Rin: oh shit yeah
Tess: okay fair 😭 rain check

The chat moves on.

Shane watches the screen for a moment longer than necessary.

“You didn’t even have to say anything,” he notes.

Ilya locks the phone and sets it aside. “Jackie is efficient.”

“That’s one word for it.”

Shane doesn’t sound suspicious. Just thoughtful.

The chat derails the way it always does — abruptly, enthusiastically, and with no regard for dignity.

Noelle: hypothetical
Noelle: how mad are we allowed to be if they forget anniversaries

Tess: furious
Tess: historically furious

Rin: i once pretended not to notice
Rin: it was worse somehow

Lily: reminders exist
Lily: calendars are very advanced

Noelle: lily coming in with logic again

Jackie reacts with a skull emoji.

Someone drops a photo of a half-empty wine glass, lipstick smeared on the rim.

Tess: speaking of crimes
Tess: gil tried to be romantic and tripped over the dog

Noelle: did the dog survive
Rin: most important question

Tess: dog fine
Tess: gil’s pride is dead

Lily: acceptable casualty

The chat loses it.

Noelle: lily is ruthless
Rin: ice cold
Tess: please never change

Shane reads over Ilya’s shoulder, snorts.

“You sound like you’ve seen some things.”

“I listen,” Ilya says.

“Terrifying quality,” Shane replies fondly.

The messages keep coming — complaints, jokes, people oversharing just enough to be funny.

Noelle: sometimes i think men shouldn’t be allowed to surprise us

Lily: surprises should be discussed in advance
Lily: like consent

Rin: WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS RIGHT

Jackie reacts with a wine emoji.

Shane bumps his knee into Ilya’s. “They’re adopting you.”

“I answer questions.”

“That’s literally all it takes,” Shane says. “You’re doing great.”

The chat rolls on, easy and loud and unbothered.

No one is looking at Lily too closely.
No one is testing boundaries.

She’s just… there.
Useful. Familiar. Safe.

By the third time, it’s obvious.

It happens in Away Crew, late at night, when the tone is softer and people admit things they wouldn’t in daylight.

Mara: have you ever met any of them in person
Mara: like the montreal girls

Ilya hesitates.

Lily: not yet.

Mara: huh
Mara: weird

It’s not accusatory. Just observant.

Mara: feels like you’re everywhere but nowhere

Ilya stares at the words.

That’s it, really. The problem distilled.

Before she can respond, a new message appears — not in the chat, but private.

Jackie: you okay?

Ilya blinks.

Lily: yes.
Lily: are you?

A few seconds pass.

Jackie: I’m fine
Jackie: just checking in

Ilya considers her. The way she watches. The way she never asks the wrong question.

Lily: thank you.

Jackie sends a heart. Nothing else.

Shane doesn’t say anything right away.

He never does. That’s not how he notices things.

He notices the absences first — the way Ilya’s phone lights up and then goes dark without reply. The way conversations trail off when he walks into the room. The way Jackie’s name appears at exactly the right moments.

One night, as they’re getting ready for bed, Shane leans against the doorframe and says, “They really want to meet you.”

Ilya pauses, toothbrush halfway to his mouth.

“Yes.”

“You don’t want to.”

It’s not a question.

Ilya lowers the toothbrush. “It is complicated.”

Shane studies him, expression careful. “Is it complicated because of me?”

Ilya meets his eyes.

“No,” he says honestly. “It is complicated because of everything else.”

Shane nods slowly. He accepts that — for now.

Later, in the dark, Shane traces idle patterns on Ilya’s arm.

“You know,” he says quietly, “it’s kind of funny.”

“What?”

“You’re in all these group chats. You know everything. Everyone trusts you.” He smiles faintly. “And no one actually knows you.”

Ilya swallows.

“Yes,” he says.

The word sits heavy between them.

The chat explodes over something deeply stupid.

Noelle: emergency
Noelle: who taught them that haircut was acceptable

Tess: which one
Rin: that does not narrow it down

A screenshot appears — a badly cropped photo of Drew mid-interview, hair sticking up at an alarming angle.

Noelle: THIS
Noelle: he looks like he lost a fight with a leaf blower

Tess: i defended him last week
Tess: i retract my support

Lily: it will grow back
Lily: eventually

Rin: that’s what we said about the mustache

Lily: mistakes are part of growth

Noelle: lily is emotionally evolved

Jackie reacts with a single skull emoji.

Shane reads over Ilya’s shoulder and laughs outright. “That’s brutal.”

“I am kind,” Ilya says.

Shane tilts his head. “Are you?”

“I said eventually.”

Another photo drops into the chat — same Drew, different angle, somehow worse.

Tess: i cannot believe this is happening to us

Lily: he is confident
Lily: that helps

Noelle: does it

Lily: sometimes confidence replaces skill

The reactions pile up.

Rin: i’m crying
Tess: lily is a menace

Shane nudges Ilya’s thigh. “You’re enjoying this.”

“I am participating.”

“Same thing,” Shane says fondly.

The conversation drifts, laughter thinning into logistics, jokes giving way to plans that don’t require commitment.

As time goes on and the WAGs group continues to invite Lily — only to be declined — Jackie becomes somewhat protective.

As far as it goes for Ilya, he doesn’t have anyone on Shane’s team he can talk to about Shane, except for Jackie.

Jackie becomes more active. Not louder — just present.
When someone asks about Lily’s schedule, Jackie answers.
When someone pushes for details, Jackie redirects.
When assumptions start to form, Jackie dissolves them before they harden.

It’s subtle. Professional. Protective.

One afternoon, Ilya messages her directly.

Lily: you do not have to do this.

Jackie replies almost immediately.

Jackie: I know
Jackie: I want to

Ilya stares at the words.

Lily: why?

There’s a longer pause this time.

Jackie: because I’ve seen what happens when people feel entitled to answers they haven’t earned

Ilya exhales slowly.

Lily: thank you.

Jackie: anytime

By the time the season turns, the pattern is set.

Lily is still everywhere. Still indispensable. Still trusted.
She’s also untouchable.

No one pushes too hard anymore. No one jokes about it. The absence becomes normalized, folded neatly into the rhythm of things.

Shane notices that too.

One night, scrolling idly through the chat, he snorts. “You’re like a ghost.”

Ilya raises an eyebrow. “Ghosts are scary.”

“No,” Shane says, smiling softly.
He leans over and kisses Ilya’s temple. “They all really like you, you know.”

Ilya closes his eyes.

“That is the problem,” he says.

Shane doesn’t argue.

Outside, the hockey world keeps spinning — loud, speculative, convinced it knows the truth.
Inside, the pattern holds.

And like all patterns that survive pressure, it’s beginning to feel dangerous.

Chapter 4: four

Chapter Notes

I am just so obsessed with Jackie & Ilya's friendship and was not aware of how much i needed it.

The season keeps moving.

That’s the strangest part of it — how quickly things normalize. Schedules update. Jerseys change. New routines slide into place without ceremony.
Ottawa becomes a word people say casually.

Ilya wakes up in a hotel room that smells faintly of detergent and bad coffee and reaches for his phone before he’s fully conscious. Shane’s name is already there, half a dozen messages stacked between highlights and travel updates.

Shane: morning
Shane: you alive
Shane: say something or i’m assuming you died in ottawa

Ilya smiles into the pillow.

Ilya: still alive
Ilya: unfortunately for you

Shane: tragic
Shane: city still boring?

Ilya: city is fine
Ilya: team is… enthusiastic

Shane: that bad huh

Ilya: i am being generous

Shane sends a laughing emoji. A second later, a photo appears — Shane’s locker, his skates unlaced, someone’s stick clearly taped wrong in the background.

Shane: tell me you miss this

Ilya: i miss you
Ilya: this i can live without

Shane replies with a heart and nothing else. It’s enough.

Away Crew is already awake.

Mara: who’s up
Rin: flight delay again
Tess: why do airlines hate us personally

Lily: weather system moving east
Lily: you should still make the connection

Tess: i love you
Mara: lily for commissioner

Someone posts a screenshot of an airport breakfast. Someone else posts a picture of a goalie asleep in a chair.
The chat hums.

MTL WAGs is louder today.
A win always does that.

Noelle: WE’RE SO BACK
Tess: someone tell me why my voice is gone
Rin: screaming solves nothing and everything

Noelle: lily where were you last night

Ilya pauses mid-coffee.

Lily: watching quietly
Lily: as always

Noelle: unfair
Noelle: you’re our lucky charm now

Jackie reacts with a wine emoji.

Someone suggests drinks. Someone else suggests brunch. It’s all hypothetical, easy.
No pressure.

The chats develop personalities.
Away Crew is logistics and mild despair.
MTL WAGs is chaos. Always.

Sometimes they overlap in ways that feel vaguely illegal.

It’s midweek — the dead zone between games — when Noelle sends a message that immediately derails everything.

Noelle: important question
Noelle: do you think our men would survive without us

Tess: no
Tess: next question

Rin: some of them would perish within hours

Lily: perish is strong
Lily: but they would be inconvenienced

Noelle: lily 😭

Tess: define “inconvenienced”

Lily: wrong airport
Lily: no socks
Lily: emotionally confused

Shane is brushing his teeth when Ilya lets out a quiet huff of laughter.

“What?” Shane asks around toothpaste.

“Nothing.”

“That’s a lie.”

Ilya tilts the phone so Shane can see.

Shane squints, then laughs outright. “Hey. I know how airports work.”

“You once went to Newark instead of LaGuardia.”

“That was ONE time.”

Rin: okay but if we disappeared for 24 hours
Rin: what’s the first thing they mess up

Tess: laundry
Noelle: directions
Rin: emotions

Lily: hydration

There’s a beat.

Noelle: OH MY GOD
Noelle: LILY IS RIGHT

Tess: i’ve never seen a man drink water unless reminded
Rin: they think coffee counts

Lily: coffee is not water
Lily: this is important

Jackie reacts with a single, devastating checkmark emoji.

Shane leans his hip against the counter. “You’re terrifyingly competent.”

“I am attentive.”

“That’s worse.”

Another day, another spiral.
This one starts with Rin.

Rin: can someone tell me if this outfit is cute or if i’ve lost perspective

She sends a photo — mirror selfie, casual dress, sneakers that are objectively questionable.

Noelle: i love it
Tess: i love you but no

Rin: WHAT’S WRONG WITH THE SHOES

Lily: they are optimistic
Lily: but impractical

Rin: i don’t like that tone
Tess: lily said impractical with her whole chest

Noelle: lily what would you wear

Ilya considers this carefully.

Lily: something you can walk fast in
Lily: in case you need to leave

Rin: LEAVE WHAT

Lily: anything

Tess: queen behavior honestly

Shane reads over his shoulder. “Do you live like you’re constantly planning an escape?”

“Yes.”

“From what?”

Ilya thinks about it. Smiles slightly. “Inconvenience.”

The unhinged reputation sticks.

People start tagging Lily specifically when things go wrong.

Tess: emergency
Tess: gil put my sweater in the dryer

Noelle: that’s murder
Rin: is it ruined

Lily: maybe
Lily: how attached are you

Tess: EMOTIONALLY???

Lily: then yes

The chat explodes.

Noelle: lily is ruthless
Rin: she doesn’t sugarcoat
Tess: i respect it

Jackie reacts with a skull.

Shane notices the shift before Ilya does.

One night, sprawled across the couch, Shane scrolls lazily through the chat and pauses.

“They listen to you,” he says.

“They ask questions.”

“Yeah,” Shane replies. “And then they do what you say.”

Ilya hums. “Efficiency.”

Shane smiles, soft. “You’d be dangerous in charge.”

“I am already dangerous,” Ilya says mildly.

Shane laughs and presses a kiss to his jaw. “God help them.”

By the time the win happens — the one that makes everyone loud and hopeful and reckless — Lily is no longer a novelty.
She’s a fixture.

Shane calls after practice the next day.

“They were asking about you,” he says.

Ilya hums. “Which ones?”

“All of them.” Shane grins into the phone. “You’re very popular.”

“I answer messages.”

“That’s literally all it takes,” Shane says. “You’re doing better than most of us.”

“They miss Lily.”

“They miss you,” Shane corrects, gently.

Ilya doesn’t argue. He’s learned not to.

Ottawa is… fine.
Not hostile. Not welcoming. Just there.

Ilya learns the fastest route from his apartment to the rink. He finds a bakery that does decent bread. He stops unpacking halfway and never finishes.

In the chats, Ilya stays constant.

Rin: do i need boots or sneakers
Lily: boots
Lily: always boots

Tess: voice of reason
Noelle: voice of experience 😭

Someone starts calling Lily mom ironically. Ilya ignores it. Jackie shuts it down with a single raised-eyebrow emoji.

Jackie checks in, occasionally, privately.

Jackie: how’s the city treating you

Lily: tolerable
Lily: cold

Jackie: that tracks
Jackie: wine cures most things

Ilya snorts softly and doesn’t reply right away. When he does, it’s simple.

Lily: noted

Jackie sends a clinking-glasses emoji.

Shane visits once.

It’s a stolen weekend, wedged between games and obligations. They don’t go out. They order food. They stay in bed too long.

At some point, Shane scrolls through the WAGs chat and laughs.

“They’re planning a wine night again.”

Ilya rolls onto his side. “Yes?”

“Jackie says next month. She says ‘everyone when schedules calm down,’ which I think is fake news.”

“Schedules never calm down.”

“Exactly.” Shane grins. “She’s very smooth about it.”

“She always is.”

Shane studies him for a second. “You okay with all this?”

Ilya thinks about it. About Lily. About Ottawa. About the way everything fits without quite settling.

“Yes,” he says. “I am.”

Shane nods, satisfied, and pulls him closer. “Good.”

The chat is stupidly cheerful for a Tuesday.

Noelle: important poll
Noelle: red or white wine tonight

Tess: red
Rin: white

Tess: rin you’re wrong
Rin: i’m consistent

Lily: both
Lily: depends how the day went

Noelle: lily understands me on a spiritual level

Jackie reacts with a clinking-glasses emoji.

Jackie: wine night soon
Jackie: for real this time

Tess: don’t threaten us with a good time
Rin: manifesting

Ilya reads it from Shane’s bed, Shane half-asleep beside him, arm slung heavy across his waist.

“What are they plotting now?” Shane asks, voice rough.

“Wine,” Ilya says.

Shane hums. “Again?”

“Yes.”

“I like that they assume I’ll just be there.”

“You will,” Ilya says.

Shane smiles without opening his eyes. “Yeah. I will.”

Ilya types once, carefully.

Lily: i will bring something
Lily: if schedules allow

Noelle: SHE’S COMING
Tess: everyone stay calm
Rin: nobody stay calm

Jackie sends a single heart.

Shane shifts closer, pressing a kiss to Ilya’s shoulder. “You’re really in it now.”

“Yes,” Ilya says softly.

He doesn’t feel trapped.
He doesn’t feel watched.
He feels… included.

The phone buzzes again — another joke, another reaction, another easy moment folded into routine.

Ilya sets the phone face-down and pulls Shane closer.

Outside the room, the world keeps turning.
Inside, everything feels settled.

When Shane leaves, the apartment feels quieter but not empty.

The chats keep moving. Jokes land. Plans stay vague. No one asks questions they don’t need answered.

Lily answers. Lily laughs. Lily stays.

From the outside, it looks easy.
From the inside, it feels… sustainable.

And for now, that’s enough.

Chapter 5: five

Chapter Notes

HI THANK YOU for ALL of the kudos & comments!!! they truly make my day & i love replying to them all :))

enjoy this chapter... i was going to post in the morning, but for those who see it sooner, think of it as a gift for all the kindness i have received for this fic!!!

The morning is supposed to be quiet.

Ilya knows this because Shane has already told him — not directly, not in words — but in the way he kisses him slowly, unhurried, like there’s nowhere else to be. In the way Anya is sprawled across the bed like she owns it, one paw pressed into Ilya’s thigh. In the way Shane’s hand keeps finding his hip, his waist, the familiar places, as if he’s memorizing him again before the drive back to Ottawa.

Ilya is good at noticing patterns.

This one means stay.

Shane has a list of ways he wants to spend the morning before Ilya leaves. Ilya doesn’t know all of them, but he knows the shape: bed, maybe a walk, maybe food, maybe nothing at all. None of it involves clothes yet. None of it involves reality.

None of it involves the doorbell ringing at nine in the morning.

Anya’s ears prick first. Her body goes tense, coiled, offended.

Then the doorbell rings again.

Shane pulls back abruptly, blinking like someone’s turned on a light. “Did you order more dog toys?”

“No,” Ilya says. His voice is still rough with sleep. “She has many toys.”

Anya launches herself off the bed, already barking.

Shane sighs, rolls away from him, and reaches for the edge of the mattress. The absence is immediate. Ilya feels it like a draft.

“I’ll get it,” Shane says, already pulling on pajama pants. “Probably nothing.”

Nothing does not ring the doorbell twice.

Ilya sits up slowly as Shane disappears down the stairs, Anya’s nails skittering ahead of him. He pulls on sweatpants and follows, stopping halfway when he hears a voice he does not expect.

Hayden.

Ilya leans on the banister and looks down.

Hayden stands in the doorway like someone waiting for bad news to be confirmed. His shoulders are hunched. His face is pale. He looks… wrong. Not angry. Not defensive. Unsettled.

That is worse.

“Hayden?” Ilya says.

Hayden flinches. “Hey. Uh. Sorry. Can we—can we sit?”

Shane is already ushering him inside, concern written plainly across his face. “What’s wrong? Is Jackie okay? The kids?”

“They’re fine,” Hayden says quickly. “Everyone’s fine. I just—yeah. Sitting would be good.”

Ilya comes down the stairs and joins Shane on the couch. He sits close, knee pressed against Shane’s, grounding himself in the contact. Hayden takes the armchair opposite, elbows on his knees, fingers laced together like he’s bracing for impact.

Ilya watches him carefully.

Hayden does not look like someone here to fight.

“Have you guys been online today?” Hayden asks.

“No,” Shane says. “Why?”

Hayden exhales through his nose and scrubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Okay. So. You know how I recorded that FanMail video yesterday?”

Shane nods, already impatient. Ilya feels it — the tension tightening in Shane’s shoulders.

Hayden keeps talking, rambling now. “I was in my trophy room. You know, the one with the mirror. And the windows. And I didn’t realize the angle was—”

“Hayden,” Ilya says flatly. “What happened?”

Hayden looks up at him.

And for the first time since Ilya has known him, Hayden Pike looks apologetic without being defensive.

“The internet noticed,” Hayden says quietly. “You. In the reflection. With Shane.”

The silence that follows feels physical.

Shane’s phone buzzes.

Then again.

Ilya doesn’t need to look at his own phone to know it’s happening there too. He already feels it — the shift, the pattern breaking apart, the moment where something private slips into public space.

Shane looks down at his screen, color draining from his face. “Oh.”

Ilya exhales slowly.

So this is how it happens.

Not with a plan. Not with a choice. With a mirror and a mistake and a morning that was supposed to be gentle.

Ilya opens his phone.

Away Crew first. Always.

It feels safer. Predictable.

The messages are stacked in uneven bursts, timestamps overlapping, people clearly typing at the same time.

Mara: hey
Mara: hey lily are you awake

Rin: i don’t like this
Rin: please tell me you’re not finding out through twitter

Tess: i’m really confused
Tess: but mostly i’m worried

There’s a link.
A screenshot.
Someone has circled the mirror in red like it’s evidence.

Ilya’s thumb hovers.

Then:

Lily: i am here

The typing bubbles bloom immediately.

Mara: oh thank god

Rin: okay
Rin: okay good

Tess: so you’re not—
Tess: like gone

Ilya swallows.

Lily: no
Lily: i am still me

A pause. Longer this time.

Rin: can i ask something and you tell me if it’s okay to answer

Ilya exhales slowly.

Lily: yes

Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.

Rin: are you ilya rosanov

The name looks wrong in this space. Too sharp.

Ilya closes his eyes.

Lily: yes

The chat goes quiet.
Ten seconds.
Fifteen.

Then:

Mara: wow

Tess: okay
Tess: i need a second
Tess: but this actually explains a LOT

Rin: i’m not mad
Rin: i just feel like my brain fell down the stairs

Ilya lets out a soft huff of a laugh.

Lily: that is understandable

Tess: WAIT
Tess: does this mean you were the one who knew where the hotel pharmacy was in nashville

Lily: yes

Mara: holy shit

Rin: you helped me pack for three road trips
Rin: i trusted you with my skincare bag

Lily: your serums are expensive

That breaks something open.

Tess: i KNEW you were too competent to be real

Mara: did you mean to lie to us

The question lands gently. Carefully.

Ilya types slower.

Lily: no
Lily: i did not know how to correct it once it started
Lily: and then it felt late

Tess: yeah
Tess: that tracks

Rin: i wish you’d told us sooner
Rin: but i get why you didn’t

Ilya’s chest tightens.

Lily: thank you for understanding

Mara: are you okay though
Mara: like actually

Ilya glances up at Shane — still pacing, still furious on his behalf, still here.

Lily: yes
Lily: i am not alone

He sets the phone down for a moment before opening MTL WAGs.

It’s louder.
Less organized.
Everyone talking at once.

Noelle: UM
Noelle: HELLO

Tess: i feel sick

Rin: is shane cheating though

Noelle: WHO IS LILY
Noelle: PLEASE SAY SOMETHING

Ilya winces.

Lily: i am sorry
Lily: i never meant to deceive you

Noelle: okay
Noelle: thank you for saying that

Tess: i’m not mad
Tess: i just don’t understand how this happened

Rin: yeah
Rin: same
Rin: my brain is melting

Noelle: so you were just… there
Noelle: the whole time

Lily: yes

Noelle: oh my god

Someone reacts with a skull. Someone deletes a message.

Then Jackie.

Jackie: everyone take a breath
Jackie: we can talk when things settle

The effect is immediate.
The pace slows. The tone shifts.

Tess: yeah
Tess: sorry lily

Noelle: same
Noelle: i just— this is a lot

Lily: i understand

A beat.

Rin: are you and shane okay

Ilya doesn’t hesitate.

Lily: yes

Noelle: good
Noelle: that’s all i really care about

Something warm settles in his chest.

A private message comes in.
From Jackie.

Jackie: thank you for telling us yourself
Jackie: i know that couldn’t have been easy

Ilya stares at it longer than necessary.

Lily: thank you for giving me time

Jackie: always

Ilya sets the phone down.

The noise outside the room is still loud.
The internet is still spinning.

But here — in these messages — the shape has changed, not collapsed.

The noise fades unevenly.

Not all at once — never that clean — but in pockets. People peel away to work, to kids, to the rest of their days. What’s left behind feels different. Slower. More deliberate.

Ilya doesn’t realize how tense he still is until his shoulders start to ache.

His phone buzzes again. Away Crew pings again.

Tess: hey
Tess: just checking in again
Tess: no pressure to answer

Lily: i am still here

Tess: okay
Tess: good
Tess: i was worried you’d disappear once it got weird

Lily: i do not disappear easily

Rin: that’s objectively true
Rin: you survived three airline meltdowns with us

Mara: and my emotional breakdown in vegas

Lily: you recovered

Mara: because you told me to drink water and breathe

A pause.

Tess: can i say something without it being weird

Lily: yes

Tess: i liked lily
Tess: but i also like you
Tess: so i think that’s okay

Ilya stares at the screen longer than necessary.

Lily: thank you

Rin: yeah
Rin: same
Rin: you’re still the person who knew where to find cough drops at midnight

Lily: they were lemon

Rin: exactly

Someone reacts with a heart.

The chat drifts into lighter territory — jokes about Ottawa weather, complaints about team schedules, someone sending a blurry photo of airport coffee with the caption this should be illegal.

Ilya doesn’t leave.

He doesn’t need to explain anything further.

A private message comes in.

Noelle.

Noelle: hey
Noelle: i just wanted to say i’m sorry if anything we said hurt you

Ilya types slowly.

Lily: thank you
Lily: i understand the shock

Noelle: for what it’s worth
Noelle: i never felt like you didn’t belong

That one settles somewhere warm.

Another message.
Jackie.

Jackie: are you holding up

Ilya answers honestly.

Lily: yes
Lily: tired

Jackie: that makes sense
Jackie: you did a brave thing today

Ilya frowns at the word.

Lily: i did not plan to

Jackie: that doesn’t make it less true

Ilya sets the phone down after that.

The house has gone still again.
Hayden left an hour ago, apologetic and awkward and visibly shaken by the magnitude of his mistake. Shane had walked him to the door, voice low, anger contained but not gone. Ilya hadn’t followed. He didn’t need to.

Now Shane finally sits beside him on the couch.
Not touching at first.
Just there.

Ilya notices the way Shane leans in — close enough that their knees brush, close enough that the warmth is unmistakable. He notices the way Shane waits, giving him space without withdrawing.

Eventually, Shane reaches out.
He laces their fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” Shane says quietly. “About all of it.”

Ilya squeezes his hand. “I know.”

“I should have protected you better.”

“You did,” Ilya says. He turns his head, resting his temple against Shane’s shoulder. “You always do.”

Shane exhales, the sound shaky. “I hate that you had to explain yourself to anyone.”

“I did not explain,” Ilya says gently. “I answered.”

That earns a soft, humorless laugh.

Shane presses a kiss into Ilya’s hair. “You okay?”

Ilya thinks about the messages. The concern. The recalibration. The way no one vanished.

“Yes,” he says. “I am… surprised.”

“In a bad way?”

“In a good one,” Ilya admits. “They did not leave.”

Shane’s grip tightens. “Of course they didn’t.”

Ilya leans fully into him then, fitting himself into Shane’s side like it’s muscle memory. Like it’s always been this easy.

Outside, the world is still loud.
Inside, the noise has softened into something manageable.

The pattern broke.
But something better replaced it.

And for the first time, Ilya doesn’t feel like he’s bracing for the fallout.

He feels like he’s arrived.

Chapter End Notes

also depending on how this fic is perceived, this could be a series if there were certain things you guys wanted to see.... in the meantime i am still writing two other longer fics that take up a lot of my writing skills lol

andddd don't think i forgot about lily agreeing to wine night... i didn't.... fav chapters coming up!!!

Chapter 6: six

Chapter Notes

ENJOY!!!!! only one more chapter after this ;'(((

thank you aagin for all the sweet comments & i am heavily considering make a series of this so comment if there is something in particular you want to see!

The house is quiet in the way that only comes after something big.

Not tense — just emptied out. Like a room after a storm has passed through and left the furniture rearranged but standing.

Ilya is the first to move.

He drifts into the kitchen barefoot, pulling one of Shane’s hoodies on over his head, sleeves swallowing his hands. He opens the fridge and stares into it with the intensity of someone hoping it will offer answers.

It does not.

Anya trots in behind him and sits pointedly at his feet.

“Yes,” Ilya tells her. “I see you.”

Her tail thumps once.

“You had breakfast,” he continues. “This is extortion.”

She blinks up at him, unrepentant.

Shane appears in the doorway a moment later, hair still damp from the shower, wearing sleep pants and absolutely no sense of urgency. He watches Ilya for a second, amused.

“You negotiating with the dog again?”

“She is manipulative,” Ilya says. “She pretends to starve.”

Shane grins. “Just like you.”

“I have never pretended.”

Shane crosses the kitchen and crowds him gently, boxing Ilya in between the counter and his body. He reaches around him for the coffee mugs, deliberately close.

“You pretending you didn’t eat half my granola last night?”

Ilya tips his head back against Shane’s shoulder. “It was stale.”

“It was new.”

“Then it was emotionally stale.”

Shane laughs, low and fond, and presses a kiss into Ilya’s hair. The sound settles something in Ilya’s chest that still feels loose from the morning.

Coffee brews. Toast pops. Normal noises return.

Shane pours milk and sets the mug in front of Ilya like it’s always been this way.

Ilya checks his phone.

A message from Away Crew waits, unhurried now.

A message from Away Crew waits, unhurried now.

Rin: just fyi we’re still expecting you to tell us when flights are fake delayed

Ilya snorts.

“What?” Shane asks.

“They still want my help.”

“Good,” Shane says easily. “You’d be offended if they didn’t.”

Ilya considers that. “Yes.”

Shane leans on the counter across from him, sipping his coffee. He watches Ilya with the careful attention of someone checking for cracks.

“How are you really?” Shane asks.

Ilya thinks about it.
He thinks about confusion that didn’t turn cruel.
About people adjusting instead of rejecting.
About Jackie’s heart emoji.

“I am… fine,” he says finally. “Better than expected.”

Shane exhales, relief clear. “Good.”

They stand there a moment longer, quiet.

Then Shane squints at Ilya’s phone. “Are you trending?”

“I refuse to look.”

“Coward.”

“Pragmatist.”

Shane laughs. “Fair.”

Later, they take Anya out.

It’s cold enough that Shane complains and Ilya pretends not to notice how close Shane walks to him. They pass people who glance twice, then away. Nothing dramatic. Nothing sharp.
Just awareness.

Shane’s hand finds Ilya’s gloved one anyway.

They don’t comment on it.

Anya insists on greeting every other dog. Shane lets her. Ilya watches Shane crouch to pet someone else’s golden retriever and feels that familiar, stupid fondness bloom.

“You’re staring,” Shane says without looking up.

“You are very approachable,” Ilya says.

“I am not.”

“You have golden retriever energy.”

Shane gasps. “Rude.”

“You tail wag emotionally.”

Shane straightens, affronted. “I do not wag.”

Ilya smiles. “You are wagging now.”

Shane tackles him lightly, nearly slipping on the icy sidewalk. They steady each other, laughing, breath puffing white between them.

For a few minutes, the world forgets them.

Back at the house, Shane stretches out on the couch and drags Ilya down with him. Anya wedges herself between their legs like she’s been personally invited.

Shane scrolls aimlessly through his phone.

“Oh my god,” he says suddenly.

“What.”

“Someone in the Montreal chat just said you have ‘dad energy.’”

Ilya stiffens. “Explain.”

“Like—” Shane squints. “Responsible. Calm. Fixes things. Knows where Advil is.”

Ilya considers this. “I do fix things.”

“You absolutely do,” Shane agrees. “Emotionally. Logistically.”

Ilya hums. “I accept this.”

Shane laughs. “You’re thirty, not fifty.”

“Experience transcends age.”

Shane tilts his head. “Did you just say you’re hot?”

“Yes.”

Shane grins. “Correct.”

They fall into comfortable silence again. Shane’s thumb drags absent circles against Ilya’s wrist.

“I liked them,” Shane says eventually.

“Who.”

“The chats. The people. I get why you stayed.”

Ilya glances at him. “You were not angry?”

“No,” Shane says without hesitation. “I was worried you’d feel alone.”

Ilya presses closer. “I did not.”

Shane smiles softly at that.

In the afternoon, Ilya cooks.

Not because anyone asked — because he wants to.

Shane sits at the counter pretending not to steal ingredients while Ilya swats him away with a wooden spoon.

“You are banned,” Ilya tells him.

“I live here.”

“Then you should behave.”

Shane steals a mushroom anyway.

“Hayden still hates you,” Shane says casually.

“Yes.”

“But Jackie texted me,” Shane continues. “She said she’s proud of you.”

Ilya pauses, knife mid-slice.

“Oh,” he says quietly.

Shane reaches out and bumps their shoulders together. “She means it.”

Ilya nods. Goes back to chopping.

The phone buzzes again while Ilya is rinsing his hands at the sink.

He glances down, distracted, and replies without thinking.

Noelle: okay wait
Noelle: lily are you in ottawa or montreal this week

Lily: ottawa

A beat.

Tess: oh right duh

Rin: forgot he got traded for a second

Another beat.

Ilya blinks at the screen.

Lily: i
Lily: sorry
Lily: he

There’s a pause — not sharp, not suspicious. Just processing.

Then:

Noelle: oh right
Noelle: my brain’s mush 

Tess: same
Tess: i don’t even know where i am half the time

Rin: wait
Rin: hold on

The typing bubble appears. Disappears. Appears again.

Rin: are we still calling you lily
Rin: or should we update this

Ilya exhales slowly.

Lily: lily is fine
Lily: it is just a name

Another pause.

Then, without commentary:

Rin changed Lily’s nickname to Ilya.

Noelle: oh that feels better actually

Tess: yeah
Tess: that makes sense

Rin: lily energy
Rin: ilya name

Noelle: best of both worlds

Jackie reacts with a single checkmark emoji.

Ilya stares at the screen longer than he needs to.

Ilya: you did not have to do that

Rin: we wanted to

Tess: also lily is still you
Tess: vibes don’t change

Noelle: exactly
Noelle: you’re still our emotional support wags

Ilya: i cannot replace you
Ilya: or be replaced

Tess: see this is why we like you

Jackie sends a heart.

The chat drifts on — immediately, easily — to something else entirely.

Noelle: unrelated but
Noelle: if my man forgets his passport again i’m filing paperwork

Ilya locks the phone.
The food smells good. Familiar. Real.

Later, they end up back in bed, clothes on, legs tangled, Anya snoring at their feet.

Shane traces the line of Ilya’s jaw.

“You know,” Shane says, “you could’ve corrected them.”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.”

Shane smiles. “I think I liked Lily.”

Ilya raises an eyebrow. “You are dating Lily.”

“No,” Shane says. “I’m dating the guy who answers texts and remembers pharmacy hours and tells people things are okay.”

Ilya swallows.

Shane kisses him — slow, lingering, unhurried.

“Still you,” Shane murmurs.

Ilya rests his forehead against Shane’s. “Still us.”

Outside, the world is loud again.
Inside, everything feels—
Normal.
For a while.

The messages don’t stop.
They change.

The urgency drains out of them, replaced by the familiar low-level hum of people talking to pass the time — which Ilya recognizes as the real sign of safety.

Away Crew resurfaces first.

Rin: okay but real talk
Rin: do you still have that spreadsheet

Ilya smiles faintly.

Ilya: yes

Mara: the one with airport food rankings

Ilya: yes

Tess: the one where you called pretzels “emotionally deceptive”

Ilya: they promise more than they give

Rin: never been so seen

Someone sends a photo of a boarding pass. Someone else reacts with a heart.

The conversation drifts, as it always does.

A new chat lights up on Shane’s phone as he hands it to Ilya.

Team.

Ilya hesitates before opening it. He hasn’t looked yet. He’s let Shane field most of it — the locker room, the texts, the quiet check-ins.

Shane nudges his leg from where he’s sprawled on the couch. “You don’t have to read it.”

“I want to,” Ilya says.

He opens it.

The last twenty messages are… fine. Better than fine.

Drew: so i guess congrats are in order??

JJ: yeah man
JJ: about time you stopped being mysterious

JJ: does this mean we get double the cooking at team dinners

Shane: absolutely not

JJ: coward

Ilya scrolls.

Hayden: tell ilya his timing is impeccable
Hayden: we’re on a win streak

Drew: seriously though
Drew: happy for you both

JJ: also ilya
JJ: i owe you an apology for the ottawa jokes

JJ: i will still make them
JJ: but with respect

Ilya exhales, slow and careful.

“Your team is… nice,” he says.

Shane grins. “They like you.”

“They fear me.”

“Same thing.”

MTL WAGs reappears later, cautiously.

Noelle: okay important question
Noelle: do we still get your travel tips

Ilya: yes

Tess: thank god

Rin: also
Rin: can i just say
Rin: your vibes were always immaculate

Ilya: thank you

Noelle: i feel like i owe you wine

Jackie reacts with a wine glass emoji.

Shane peers over Ilya’s shoulder. “Is that an invitation?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Shane says. “I was worried we’d have to drink alone like weird hermits.”

“We already do that.”

“True.”

A private message comes in.
Rin.

Rin: hey
Rin: not to be weird
Rin: but i really liked lily

Ilya types carefully.

Ilya: she was me

Rin: yeah
Rin: i know
Rin: i think that’s why it worked. we like you as you are ilya.

Ilya stares at that for a long moment.

Ilya: thank you

The chat scrolls lazily for a while — nothing urgent, just noise.

Then:

Noelle: okay i was doing some thinking ilya

Ilya: this could be bad

Rin: THE SPICE HAHA

Jackie: wow

Ilya: sorry sorry i’m ready
Ilya: go on

Noelle: choosing to ignore that but
Noelle: i hope you haven’t been replacing us with troy and harris & your team 😭

Ilya doesn’t even pause.

Ilya: impossible
Ilya: you are not replaceable

There’s a beat.

Tess: oh my god

Rin: that was fast

Noelle: 🥹

Ilya: also
Ilya: they do not know where snacks are kept

Tess: see this is why we’re safe

Rin: emotional AND practical reassurance

Jackie reacts with a single heart.

The chat moves on immediately — as if nothing monumental was said at all.
And somehow, that makes it matter more.

Later, when Shane is half-asleep again and Ilya is scrolling absently, another message pops up in Away Crew.
Jackie.

Jackie: thinking of having people over soon
Jackie: nothing fancy
Jackie: just wine and snacks

Ilya glances at Shane, sprawled across the couch, one arm flung over his eyes.

Ilya: i think that would be nice

Jackie: good
Jackie: i’ll text everyone when you’re ready

Rin: i've been waiting for this day!!!!!!!

Ilya sets the phone down.

Shane peeks at him through his fingers. “Is wine night official?”

“Yes.”

Shane smiles — slow, pleased, relieved. “Good.”

Ilya watches the smile linger.

Outside, people are still talking.
Inside the chats, jokes have returned.
Inside the house, everything feels… steady.

The truth didn’t scatter anyone.
It reorganized them.

And when they gather next, it won’t be to interrogate or explain.
It’ll be to drink wine and argue about bad calls and let Lily exist as Ilya — openly, finally, without translation.

Chapter End Notes

it is just SO important to me that shane's teammates are more supportive than in the long game because that CRUSHED me so here they are (just a snippet) but if you guys like them i could always add them to the series...

i saw comments about his teammates reactions but i hope you guys like the other way i went with this :)

Chapter 7: seven

Chapter Notes

my last thank you!!! & ANNOUNCEMENT that this WILL be a series and I am already working on some one-shots & other ideas for it as well! I will read all the comments so if there is anything you want to see lmk ;)

now... enjoy what we have all been waiting for... WINE NIGHTTT!!

The excitement starts hours early.
Ilya knows this because his phone won’t stop lighting up while he’s standing in Shane’s kitchen, tying his shoes.
MTL WAGs has reached the specific volume that means nothing productive will happen.

Noelle: okay so what are we wearing
Noelle: not like fancy
Noelle: but also not sad

Tess: i’m wearing the shirt that makes me feel like i could commit a crime

Rin: that’s every shirt you own

Jackie: wine. snacks. gossip.
Jackie: no expectations beyond survival

Noelle: ilya are you READY

Ilya types calmly, seated on the counter while Shane pretends not to hover.

Ilya: yes

Tess: that’s ominous

Rin: we are going to DRINK

Noelle: and GOSSIP

Noelle: and maybe cry

Jackie: absolutely no crying before the second bottle

Ilya smiles faintly and pockets his phone.
Shane watches him from the doorway.

“You excited?” Shane asks.

“Yes.”

“You sure?” Shane presses, gentler now. “You don’t have to go if—”

“I want to,” Ilya says, immediately. “They are… enthusiastic.”

Shane laughs. “That’s one word for it.”

Shane’s phone buzzes while Ilya is tugging on his jacket.

He ignores it once. Then twice.

The third time, Shane snorts and turns the screen toward him. “You’ve apparently started something.”

Ilya glances down.

JJ: you alive?!

Drew: he’s busy being famous now

Olsson: famous?

Gilbert: he got OUTED by a MIRROR, that’s cursed

Patrice: i don’t understand phones and i still know mirrors are evil

Hayden: tell him i’m suing glass

Roy: mirrors have been suspicious since the beginning
Roy: hayden he should be suing YOU

Alex: this is why i cover mine

JJ: hayden you act like this wasn't your fault
JJ: do you need a ride or are you going to pretend you’re fine like always

Hayden: trust me ilya has made it clear it is my fault i do not need more of you assholes shaming me
Hayden: i'll release jackie on you guys

Shane: i’m fine

Drew: that’s not an answer

Shane: ilya is going to wine night

JJ: WHAT

Olsson: what is wine night

Patrice: a ritual

Gilbert: if he needs rescuing blink twice

Roy: i can be there in ten

Alex: same

Shane: i’m not even there

Hayden: LMAO he’s sending his boyfriend into the lion’s den alone

Drew: Growth
Drew: Rin said she's excited... hope he's ready for thatIlya’s mouth quirks.

“They are dramatic,” he says.

Shane shrugs, entirely unbothered. “They are taking this well.”

“They're just scared of me, I told you.”

“Maybe,” Shane says easily, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Ilya hums, pleased, and finishes tying his shoes.

He hands Ilya his jacket. “Text me if you need rescuing.”

“I will not.”

“Text me anyway.”

Ilya kisses him once, quick and sure. “Behave.”

Shane grins. “I never do.”

Wine night is already in progress when Ilya arrives.
Music is too loud. Shoes are already kicked off. There are at least three open bottles and no visible plan. Jackie hands him a glass without comment.

“Welcome,” she says. “You’re late.”

“I was on time,” Ilya says.

“That’s late,” Noelle insists from the couch.

They drink.
Immediately.

The conversation ricochets — bad refs, worse flights, who said what in which locker room. Ilya is barely through half a glass before someone leans in.

“Okay,” Tess says. “Now that we’re together.”

“Here it comes,” Rin mutters.

Tess points at Ilya. “You’re real.”

“Yes.”

“No,” Noelle says. “Like confirmed real.”

“Yes.”

“And Shane is—”

“Also real,” Ilya says.

They laugh, but the alcohol is doing something dangerous now. 

“So,” Rin says, narrowing her eyes. “Hypothetically.”

“Dangerous,” Jackie warns.

“If we wanted proof—”

“No,” Jackie says immediately.

“—not like proof-proof,” Tess amends. “Just… vibes.”

Noelle gasps. “FACETIME.”

Jackie pinches the bridge of her nose. “Absolutely not.”

“Yes,” Ilya says.

Every head snaps toward him.

“Yes?” Tess echoes.

“Yes,” Ilya repeats. “That is reasonable.”

Jackie stares. “You are drunk.”

“Only slightly.”

“You don’t have to—” Jackie starts.

Ilya is already pulling out his phone.

Shane answers on the third ring.
He’s clearly at home — hoodie, hair damp, confusion written all over his face.

“Hey,” Shane says. “Everything okay?”

The room explodes.

“HI SHANE.”

“Oh my god.”

“WAIT TURN IT.”

Shane blinks. “What is happening.”

Ilya lifts the phone slightly, framing himself. “Hello.”

Shane’s expression softens instantly. “Hey.”

The shift is unmistakable.

Noelle squints. “Okay that was… .”

“Disgusting,” Tess says, delighted.

Jackie sighs. “I apologize in advance.”

Shane laughs nervously. “Are you all drinking?”

“Yes,” everyone says at once.

Rin leans in. “So. Just to be clear.”

“Oh no,” Shane mutters.

“You and Ilya are—”

“Yes,” Shane says quickly. “Together.”

“And happy?”

“Yes.”

“And real?”

Shane squints. “I’m on FaceTime where everyone can see aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

Ilya tilts his head. “They needed reassurance.”

Shane exhales. “You could’ve just told them.”

“I did.”

“But—” Shane stops himself. “Okay. Hi. I’m real. He’s real. This is my face.”

“That’s not proof,” Noelle says solemnly.

Shane stares. “What kind of proof do you want.”

Ilya leans closer to the camera, voice calm, precise.

“Shane,” he says. “Tell them what you said last night when you thought I was asleep.”

Dead silence.

Shane’s face goes bright red.

“Ilya,” Shane hisses.

“I am curious,” Tess whispers.

“No,” Shane says firmly. “We are not doing this.”

“What did he say,” Rin demands.

Shane covers his face with his hand. “I cannot believe you.”

Ilya’s eyes flick to the screen. “You said,” he pauses, deliberate, “that you like it better when I tell you what to do. Всегда мой холодильник."

The room erupts.

“Oh my GOD.”

“THAT’S SO HOT.”

“That’s illegal.”

Shane drops his hand, mortified. “I said it quietly.”

“You did,” Ilya agrees.

“TO NO ONE.”

“I was awake.”

Shane groans. “I’m hanging up.”

“No wait—” Jackie starts.

Shane points at the screen. “I love you. I am proud of you. Please stop.”

Shane pauses, "wait was the name this time?"

Ilya shakes his head and smiles. “Goodnight.”

The call ends.
The room is unhinged.

“I need air.”

“That was HOT.”

“I feel like I witnessed something sacred.”

Jackie drains her glass. “I warned everyone.”

Ilya sits back, perfectly composed, and takes another sip of wine.

“He blushes easily,” he offers.

They scream.

The room does not recover quickly.
There is a solid thirty seconds of overlapping noise of laughter, shouting, someone knocking over a coaster, and Jackie muttering something that sounds like I knew this was a bad idea while pouring herself more wine.

“I need it on record,” Tess says, clutching her chest, “that I have never been so happy to be right about something.”

“About what?” Rin asks.

“That he’s a menace,” Tess says, pointing at Ilya. “A calm menace.”

Ilya lifts his glass. “Thank you.”

Noelle squints at him. “You really just did that.”

“Yes.”

“You weaponized him being absolutely whipped.”

“Only lightly.”

Jackie drops onto the chair beside him. “I want you to know that if Shane ever files a formal complaint, I will be a character witness.”

“I appreciate that,” Ilya says solemnly.

The energy shifts after that, a much looser feeling in the air than before.

People start talking over each other in smaller clusters as Noelle puts on worse music, Tess immediately changing it. The snacks disappear faster than seems physically possible.

Rin ends up cross-legged on the floor, leaning back against the couch. “Okay but I have questions.”

“No,” Jackie says automatically.

“Yes,” Ilya says at the same time.

Jackie glares at him. “Stop encouraging them.”

“They are curious,” Ilya says. His clear accent making the girls smile.

“No, we’re nosy,” Noelle corrects.

“Same thing.”

Tess raises her glass. “I just want to say that Lily slash Ilya slash whatever your government name is—”

“Ilya is fine.”

“—has immaculate energy,” Tess continues. “You came into our lives, fixed our problems, destabilized Shane Hollander emotionally, and left.”

“I did not leave,” Ilya says. “I am here.”

“For now,” Rin says meaningfully.

They all laugh.

Someone brings up smash or pass again.
This is a mistake.

“I still can’t believe you played along,” Noelle says. “With us.”

“I am competitive,” Ilya says.

“And you didn’t hesitate,” Tess adds. “Not once.”

“I had strong opinions.”

Jackie rubs her temples. “I hosted this.”

“Okay but,” Rin says, leaning forward, eyes bright, “what was it like hearing us thirst over your boyfriend?”

Ilya considers this seriously. “Affirming.”

Shane, miles away, sneezes.

“That’s so rude,” Noelle laughs. “You could’ve said awkward.”

“It was awkward,” Ilya agrees. “And affirming.”

Tess howls. “That’s worse.”

Someone refills everyone’s glasses. No one remembers who poured last.

Rin is laughing so hard she has to sit on the floor.

“I still can’t believe you said that,” Noelle says, pointing at Ilya like she’s accusing him of a crime. “On FaceTime. In front of him.”

“I was being honest,” Ilya says mildly, which makes it worse.

Jackie wipes under her eye. “You embarrassed him in two languages.”

“That was unintentional.”

“Untrue,” Tess says. “You switched languages on purpose.”

There’s a chorus of agreement. Someone knocks over a coaster. No one helps.

Noelle leans forward, eyes bright. “Okay, okay, but—” she gestures vaguely with her glass, wine sloshing dangerously, “—remember when I said you better not replace us with Troy and Harris?”

Ilya nods. “Yes.”

“And you said—” She squints, concentrating. “What did you say?”

“I said,” Ilya repeats calmly, “that you are not replaceable.”

The room erupts.

“Oh my GOD,” Rin groans, face in her hands.
“That’s it,” Tess says. “That’s the whole thing.”
“No one else gets to have him,” Noelle declares, thumping the table. “We’ve been claimed.”

Jackie lifts her glass, smiling. “To not being replaced.”

“To the WAGs,” Tess adds.

“To Ilya,” Rin says.

Ilya raises his glass last. “To you,” he says simply.

They drink.

Someone brings up the FaceTime again and starts laughing anew. Someone else says Shane’s name like it’s a punchline. Someone insists Ilya has to admit he knew what he was doing.

“I did not,” Ilya says, lying badly.

Jackie watches him over the rim of her glass, amused and fond. “You did.”

Ilya smiles into his wine.

Across the room, his phone buzzes.
A single message.

Shane: so. am i forgiven if i never forget that sentence for the rest of my life?

Ilya types back without looking.

Ilya: yes.
Ilya: but you will be teased forever.

He locks the phone and looks up.
The room is loud. Warm. A little unsteady. Entirely his.

Someone hands him another glass.

“No replacing us, right ilya??” Noelle says, pointing again.

“Never could replace my favorite WAGs,” Ilya says.

And this time, no one laughs—because they already know it’s true.

Later, when they’re all a little drunker and a little softer, Noelle nudges Ilya’s knee.

“Can I ask something not stupid?”

“Possibly,” Ilya says.

She takes a breath. “Were you scared?”

The room quiets — not sharply, just enough to listen.

Ilya thinks about it.

“Yes,” he says simply. “I did not want to lose this.”

Rin nods. “You didn’t.”

“I know now.”

Jackie lifts her glass. “To not losing things that matter.”

They drink.

The conversation drifts again.

Someone shows old photos. Someone admits they thought Lily was British for two months. Someone else confesses they googled ‘is Lily secretly a genius’ once.

“That was you,” Tess says to Rin.

“IT WAS A VALID QUESTION.”

Ilya laughs, head tipping back slightly, shoulders loose for the first time all night.
Jackie watches him with quiet satisfaction.

Near the end of the night, as people start collecting coats and shoes, Noelle pauses in the doorway.

“Hey,” she says. “Next time?”

“Yes,” Ilya says immediately.

“Good,” she says, smiling. “Because I feel like we haven’t even started gossiping yet.”

Ilya’s lips curve. “I have time.”

When he finally steps outside, the cold air sobers him just enough.

His phone buzzes.

Shane: did you survive

Ilya: yes

Shane: are you drunk

Ilya: a little

A pause.

Shane: do i need to be worried

Ilya: always

Shane responds instantly.

Shane: i love you

Ilya smiles to himself as he walks down the steps.

Wine night doesn’t end with closure.
It ends with continuation.
And that’s better.

Later — much later — Ilya texts Shane again.

Ilya: they liked you

The reply comes instantly.

Shane: i’m never recovering

Ilya: you were charming

Shane: you’re evil

Ilya: you love it

A pause.

Shane: …yes

Ilya smiles into his glass.

Wine night dissolves into laughter and warmth and the easy comfort of people who no longer need proof.
The pattern holds.
And this time, it’s loud — and joyful — and entirely real.

He thinks about how far he's come since his first conversation with the WAGS. 

He had hoped he would eventually make it to his first wine night.

And here he was.

Chapter End Notes

reminder to be kind :)) i will delete all negative comments as i spent a lot of time on this!!

thank you for the kind comments & love!