Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Kip Grady/Scott Hunter, Shane Hollander & Scott Hunter, Scott Hunter & Ilya Rozanov, Kip Grady & Shane Hollander

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Kip Grady

Additional Tags:

Subdrop, Shane Hollander in Subdrop, Domdrop, Protective Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Coming Out, Misunderstandings, Lack of Communication, Communication, Autistic Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, 2014 MLH Awards in Las Vegas (Game Changers), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Love Confessions, no beta we die like men

Language:

English

Series:

Part 1 of Seasoned Gay to the Rescue

Stats:

Published: 2026-02-16 Completed: 2026-02-24 Words: 10,999 Chapters: 3/3

Lecture from a Seasoned Gay

Summary

Scott texts Kip that he’s bringing Shane back to the apartment. “Hey, I kind of have a big favor to ask you and I need you to be supportive about it.”
Kip replies almost immediately, “That sounds ominous, is everything okay?”
“I don’t know,” Scott decides to be honest, “You know how I’m shooting that commercial with Shane Hollander today?”
“Yes…” He can practically feel Kip’s anxiety leaking into that one text.
“Well, I think something happened to him. Something bad. I’m bringing him back to the apartment.”

-

Shane and Scott are supposed to be doing a commercial together but Scott notices that Shane’s acting… off. He finds out what happened in Vegas and forces Ilya to fix it.

Notes

Hiiiiii so I'm still obsessed with the gay hockey boys and they just hurt so pretty. <3 Quick note: There's a part where Scott thinks Shane's been raped, but it's just a misinterpretation.

Enjoy!

• Inspired by I Exist to Love You by PsychoRadiance

Chapter 1: What's Wrong with Shane?

“What the fuck is wrong with Hollander?” Scott thinks watching Shane trip over his unlaced shoes. They’re supposed to be filming a detergent commercial together, which Scott thought was strange but the money was good. He’s already in a pre-stained jersey waiting for Shane to make his way back from wardrobe and onto set.

He watches Shane get directed towards the fake kitchen room where he’s supposed to be spilling food on himself. He’s nodding like he’s listening but Scott can tell that something’s wrong. They play and interact often enough that Scott knows he’s not crazy. Shane is unnaturally quiet. And his momager wasn’t on set due to some kind of scheduling issue. Scott was sure if she saw her child this way, she’d be all over him and asking what was wrong. The thought crosses his mind that Shane could just be like this when he’s off the ice, but… there’s an instinct that tells him differently.

The director calls Scott into the scene and he plays his role using the opportunity to take stock of Shane. The kid is saying his lines and acting (terribly, but Scott won’t tell him that) and it’s enough that the director is pleased. But there’s nothing behind Shane’s eyes. The way he moves is too robotic, like he’s only doing something because he’s being told. His brain is void of any kind of conscious thought. He follows the script but does nothing else besides that.

Eventually, the director calls cut and announces the wrap. Something tugs in Scott telling him to step in, so he does.

“Hey,” He plants a warm friendly hand on Shane’s shoulder.

Shane jumps like he’s been shocked. He looks at Scott like he’s expecting something.

“You doing okay?” Scott asks. “This commercial is uh… different.”

“Yeah.” Shane says and doesn’t offer more than that.

“Let’s go and get changed back into normal clothes.” Scott tries a different approach, “And then we’ll go get lunch. Okay?”

Shane just gives a nod, “Okay.”

Scott grins at him trying to coax out a reaction but nothing happens. Planting a hand on Shane’s shoulder he guides him back towards Wardrobe where they get changed. He’s changed quicker than Shane and settles for sitting on one of the folding chairs to wait. He watches Shane go through the motions of getting dressed. His hands have no strength, his head sort of lolls with his movements, and Shane is far clumsier than Scott knows. He knows for sure something is wrong.

He’s not even a dad but he thinks that’s what this instinct is. “Captain instinct,” Scott corrects himself, although team dad might be more accurate. After watching Shane fumble with his shoes before giving up on them, Scott stands and kneels down with him. Gently, he brushes Shane’s hands aside and ties the laces.

“Sorry,” Shane mumbles. His voice sounds so far away.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Scott reaches up to feel Shane’s forehead. He’s not warm like he expected, he’s cold and clammy. 

“I’m fine,” Shane replies but it’s an automatic response.

Scott feels the back of Shane’s neck, then his hands. Shane is cold everywhere. And it’s a New York summer so it’s not like being cold is a common issue. If anything Shane should be sweating because of the gross humidity. But he’s not sweating, he’s just cold. “Shit, you need to get warm.”

“It’s okay,” Shane slurs slightly, “I’m always cold.”

“This is a different kind of cold,” Scott informs him. He has an inkling of what’s happening but he can’t say that. Not here and not now. “Let’s grab lunch.”

“Sure.” Shane’s voice agrees.

“There’s a lot of good places to eat in New York,” Scott starts walking Shane back to his car, “Is there something you feel like eating?”

Shane shrugs, “Not really.”

“Have you eaten today?”

There’s a long pause like Shane has to actually think if he’s put food in him. “Um…”

Scott decides to save him from whatever seems to be going through his mind, “I have an idea. We’ll still do lunch, but how about you come back to my place instead? I uh-” He pauses, both wanting to say that his boyfriend is a great cook, but also not wanting to immediately out himself while they’re still in public. He settles on, “Someone I love is at home who can cook really well.” He winces to himself, but it’s the best he can do.

“Okay.” Shane replies.

“Great, I’ll text him.” He waits for Shane to react but there’s nothing. “Fuck,” he worries, “What the hell happened to him?”

They slide into the car and Scott texts Kip that he’s bringing Shane back to the apartment. “Hey, I kind of have a big favor to ask you and I need you to be supportive about it.”

Kip replies almost immediately, “That sounds ominous, is everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” Scott decides to be honest, “You know how I’m shooting that commercial with Shane Hollander today?”

“Yes…” He can practically feel Kip’s anxiety leaking into that one text.

“Well, I think something happened to him. Something bad. I’m bringing him back to the apartment.”

“Is he going to be okay? Do you want me to leave for a while?” Kips replies.

“I don’t know and No,” Scott answers, surprising himself (and he’s sure, Kip.) “Stay please.”

“Really? Because I can always go back to my Dad’s for a bit.”

“I’m sure. I think I’m going to need your support on this one.”

“???? Okay.” He wishes he could call Kip instead and explain more, but with Shane in the passenger seat of the car he’s not thrilled about that being his first introduction to Kip.

“Is there food in the fridge?” Scott asks hoping there’s at least something Shane can eat.

Kip takes a moment to respond, “Sort of? There’s last night’s soup but I was going to go out and do groceries. Anything you want me to get?”

Scott checks the time wondering how fast Kip can do groceries and come back to help him with Shane. “Can you do a run and be back in an hour?”

“Um… yeah, probably. If I go now I’ll make it back before you get here." Scott imagines Kip getting up from the couch and grabbing little totes to carry their groceries in. Fuck, he loves that man.

“You’re the best. Can you do me another favor?”

“Anything.”

“There’s a heating blanket in the bedroom closet, can you grab it? The weighted one.”

“It’s summer.” Scott can practically hear Kip saying it aloud as he types it.

“I know. Trust me.”

“Always.”

Scott really loves his boyfriend. “Be home soon.” He starts his car noticing that Shane has his head pressed to the window. It’s scary to see him so… lifeless. 

“So,” he tries a conversation with Shane, “I saw that documentary segment they did on you. The one about your cottage.” There’s no response. “It must be nice living so close to your parents.” Again, no response. Scott sighs. “Shane, can you say something? Or look at me?”

Shane’s head sluggishly turns to face him. His eyes are open but unseeing. It sends chills down Scott’s spine. “Listen, I want you to answer me honestly, okay? Can you do that?”

“Um…” He notices that Shane goes a little stiff when he asks.

He tries to be comforting without sounding like he’s lecturing Shane, “You don’t have to go into details, but I gotta know what’s going on with you. So you can nod or shake your head, but I’ll need an answer. Okay?”

Shane hesitates but gives a shaky nod.

“Are you hurt?” The question seems to be too vague or strike a nerve because Shane’s eyes start to water and his hands clench. Scott takes it as confirmation and reaches out with one hand to gently grasp Shane’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe with me, alright?”

Shane just gives a shaky nod. 

Scott moves his hand to take it back but stops when Shane seemingly leans into his touch. Curious, Scott wonders what’ll happen if he removes his hand entirely. He does and notices how Shane chases the touch briefly before sinking into the seat. Guilty, Scott pretends to scratch his beard before placing his hand back on Shane’s shoulder. For the first time, he feels the tension in the kid’s shoulders release a little.

They drive in silence the rest of the way back to Scott’s apartment, his hand never leaving Shane’s shoulder. But eventually, he has to let go when he parks.

Scott gets out of the car going to the passenger side where he opens the door for Shane who fumbles with the handle. “I got it, no worries.” Scott says as nonchalantly as he can. “Look uh… when we get to my apartment, there’s someone- my someone- his name is Kip. Uh…” Scott frowns not wanting to cheapen who Kip is to him. “He’s- we’re together.”

That seems to get Shane’s attention a little. “Together?”

“Yeah,” Scott starts walking, showing Shane to the elevator, “Together.” He pushes the button and the doors close taking them up. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Shane’s eyes now look at Scott. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Actually, he was. He was expecting either nonchalance, maybe anger, or complete dissociation (this was the more likely outcome). But what he wasn’t expecting was wet sad eyes. And Scott wasn’t sure how to take that. Was that good, or bad?

“Uh…” He feels stupid for asking but he needs an answer, “How do you… feel about that?”

Shane’s mouth quivers, “You’re gay?”

Scott can’t help the nervous smile that crosses his face, “Uh, yeah… I’d say so.”

“For real?”

“Yeah, for real.”

Shane just nods and the tears slip silently down his cheeks. He brushes them away. The doors open and they step out, Scott leading the way. “Hollander,” Scott pauses before he opens the door, “I’m about to introduce you to my boyfriend so… uh, I kinda need to know if you’re cool with that or not.”

“I’m… cool.” Shane starts but words stop in his throat. “This is real?” He asks instead, “This isn’t a joke? You’re really gay?”

Scott frowns wondering where this is going, “Yeah, Hollander. I’m really gay. This isn’t some kind of elaborate prank.” At that Shane gets shifty, like he’s scared that maybe Scott is pulling a prank on him. His breath hitches and Scott quickly grabs him by the shoulders. “Hey. It’s not. I promise it’s not.”

Shane nods and whispers, “Okay.” The way he answers opens a pit in Scott’s stomach. He’s always suspected Hollander might be into men, but the way he answered with such fear only confirms it.

He opens the door and is immediately greeted with the smell of Kip making pasta. If Shane weren’t with him, he’d let the pasta burn just to sweep Kip into his arms and take him to bed. Or the couch because it’s closer.

“Hey!” Kip beams and Scott can tell he’s a little nervous.

Scott lets the door shut behind him and he greets Kip with a hug and a light kiss on the lips. “Hi,” He smiles dumbly. He leaves an arm wrapped around Kip and walks him towards Shane who still stands awkwardly in the door. “Kip, this is Shane Hollander. Shane, this is my boyfriend, Kip.”

Kip smiles and holds out a hand to Shane who takes it. On Shane’s end, his hand is quite limp and Kip gives Scott a concerned look. “Nice to meet you, Shane,” Kip says, taking his hand back. “I have hot tea on the stove, you um… look like you could use a cup. Your hands are freezing.”

“Sorry,” Shane mumbles, and then, “Oh uh… it’s also nice to meet you.”

Scott kisses Kip’s cheek before releasing him to grab tea from the stove. “I left the blanket on the couch,” Kip calls back to them, “It’s already plugged in.”

God, Scott loves his boyfriend. He’s so intuitive. “Thanks. Shane, how about you join me on the couch.”

“Oh, uh, okay.” Shane looks down at his feet and clumsily takes his shoes off before padding in his socks to the living room.

Scott sits him down and wraps the blanket around him. Shane’s eyes flutter shut for a moment before he opens them. He looks utterly exhausted. “When’s the last time you slept?” Scott asks. “Properly slept, I mean. Where you felt rested.”

Shane’s hands clench like they did in the car and Scott just nods. “It’s okay, you don’t need to answer.” Kip comes over with the cup of tea and Scott takes it from him. Reaching into the blanket, he gently guides Shane’s shaking hands to wrap around the warm mug. “Drink,” he instructs.

Shane does as he’s told, lifting the mug and taking a sip. Color seeps into his skin a little satisfying Scott. Kip meets Scott’s eyes before gesturing back to the kitchen. Scott sits with Shane a little while longer before he notices a light sway in the kid. Taking the mug, he places it on the coffee table.

“Rest,” He says, placing a comforting hand to the side of Shane’s face, “You look exhausted. Kip and I aren’t going anywhere.”

“But your home-” Shane starts to protest but Scott shakes his head.

He grabs a pillow and gently nudges Shane sideways. It doesn’t take much effort for Shane to submit to gravity. “It’s okay, Hollander. I promise. Sleep, you’re safe here. Like I said, Kip and I aren’t going anywhere. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Shane mumbles something that Scott doesn’t get, but it doesn’t matter. Shane’s eyes flutter closed and his breathing evens out.

After making sure that Shane is actually sleeping, Scott joins Kip in the kitchen. He wraps his arms around his boyfriend resting his chin on his shoulder. “Is he okay?” Kip asks softly, “I mean clearly not, but… what’s going on?”

Scott sighs, “I don’t know. He just showed up to the shoot like that. No one else seemed to notice but I mean… I’ve known that kid since he was eighteen so I know this is not normal for him.”

“You said in your text that something bad happened to him.”

“Yeah,” Scott pulls away from Kip to lean against the counter, and so he can look his boyfriend in the face. “I don’t want to jump to any conclusions but, he doesn’t seem like he’s sick. I mean, we’ve all played sick before and it doesn’t look like this. He’s not physically hurt, not that I can tell so… it’s something else.”

“Something traumatic?” Kip fills in the blanks for what Scott isn’t saying.

Scott just nods worriedly, “Looks like it. He’s jumpy, not really responsive… just does what he’s told.”

Kip swallows, taking a glance back at Shane’s sleeping form, “Do you think… he might’ve been… assaulted?”

“God, I hope not.” Scott swallows down bile at the thought of someone hurting Shane like that. But he also can’t deny that the thought crossed his mind. “I thought by bringing him here he might feel safe enough to open up about what happened to him.”

Kip worriedly reaches out and takes Scott’s hand, “I’m glad you’re looking out for him.” He gives Scott a small smile that he finds so irresistible. He leans forward and captures Kip’s mouth in a deep kiss. “Fuck, I love you so much. You’re so perfect.”

“I love you too.”

-

Shane wakes up long after the sun goes down but still early enough that Kip has dinner already ready.

“Couch?” Kip asks, holding all three plates of pasta.

“Couch.” Scott confirms carrying the drinks. He doesn’t want to move Shane from the couch especially since the shivering hasn’t seemed to stop. He’d made sure that the heated blanket stayed on, and it did help some but not enough.

The food is set down and the drinks passed out. Shane, looking marginally better, thanks them and the three start eating. Kip offers light conversation about his love of art and Scott is more than happy to listen to him ramble on. He keeps one eye on Shane making sure he’s properly eating.

Eventually, he needs to ask. “How long have you been like this?” Scott asks, finding no other way to start the conversation.

“Um…” Shane blinks at Scott. His eyes are so fucking glassy Scott wears this kid is going to give him a heart attack. Shane shrugs, “Vegas, I think? No big deal.”

“Vegas,” Scott pries, “Did something happen in Vegas?”

Shane grips the blanket tighter, still shaking. He shakes his head and whispers so softly, “I can’t tell you.”

Scott’s heart plummets to his stomach. Kip’s worried eyes tell him the same. He doesn’t want to assume the worst, but the way Shane is acting… he doesn’t want to think about what could’ve happened. “Shane,” Scott tries to be as delicate as possible, “Whatever happened to you, it’s not your fault. I want you to know that.”

Shane squeezes his eyes shut. “But it is,” he whispers, his voice cracking slightly. 

“Oh,” Kip’s voice is so soft and he gets up from sitting next to Scott so he can sit next to Shane. “I’m going to hug you, is that okay?” Shane nods stiffly and Kip wraps his arms around Shane.

“Hey,” Scott ducks his head slightly to try and make eye contact with Shane, “Listen to me. This isn’t your fault. None of what happened to you is your fault.”

Shane shakes his head, tears leaking out, “I should’ve… I should’ve said something.”

Kip’s eyes are watering and he starts gently rubbing Shane’s arms through the blanket, “Don’t do that to yourself.”

“..lya…” Shane croaks out. “Should’ve said…”

“Who?” Kip asks and glances at Scott who shakes his head. He didn’t catch the name either.

“Do you have your phone?” Scott asks gently. Shane nods and slips it from his pocket handing it to Scott. “Look, I’m not going to invade your privacy or anything, but I’m going to call your mom. I think she needs to be here.”

More tears drip from Shane’s eyes. “Please don’t tell her.”

“I won’t,” Scott promises. “I’m just calling to tell her to fly to New York. Whatever you’d like to say to her is up to you.”

Kip keeps his arms wrapped around Shane, “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Password,” Scott instructs, pointing to Shane’s phone. “Unlock it.”

“-iya.” Shane mumbles softly.

Scott frowns, not quite catching it. “Numbers, Shane.” He says as gently as possible, “I need numbers.”

“4…5…9…2...”

The numbers work and Shane’s phone opens. “I’m going to call in the bedroom,” Scott says, “Just rest.”

He vanishes into his room, just in case Yuna Hollander does some yelling over the phone. He doesn't need to stress Shane out even more. He’s ready to scroll through the contacts for Yuna Hollander’s number but there’s already a message open. An unsent text to “Lily”.

We didn’t even kiss.

It fucking clicks. Vegas, the numbers, the mumbled name, Lily. Scott knows Shane is sleeping with Rozanov, but he wasn’t sure until this moment. His fucking password on his phone spells Ilya. Lily is Ilya fucking Rozanov. And the text-

Scott calls him. He’s fucking right because Ilya Rozanov answers.

And he sounds… something. “Hollander? Why are you calling me?”

“Because it’s not Shane, it’s Scott.” He replies.

Rozanov’s voice gets sharp, “Why do you have Hollander’s phone?”

“I was going to call his mother for help-”

“Why does Hollander need help?”

Scott ignored the question, “But instead I found you, Lily.”

“What the fuck do you know old man?” Rozanov quips.

Scott snaps his anger boiling over. Rozanov has some fucking balls. Motherfucker. “I’m not stupid. I know you two are… involved. And I’m telling you to fucking stay away from Shane.”

“Fuck you,” Rozanov snaps back, “Who the fuck are you to tell me to stay away?”

“Someone who actually fucking cares about him,” Scott snaps. “Next time I see you, I’m breaking your fucking hands. You’ll never play hockey again and you’ll never fucking touch him again, you fucking rapist.”

That gets the Russian to reply, “What?” His voice is so quiet and he actually sounds… hurt? “Shane was raped?” There’s a hitch in his voice, a fear so primal that even Scott pauses. He doesn’t say anything until Rozanov’s voice goes higher, “Hunter! What do you mean, rape? Who touched him? Is he okay? Please, fucking tell me!” He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears. “Hunter!” He says something in Russian, and it sounds like he’s begging.

Scott takes a chance and listens to his gut, “He said he’s been like this since Vegas.”

Rozanov sucks in a sharp breath, his voice is cracking with unshed tears. “I will fix. Is my fault, I will fix. We had… I-” His english is rougher than usual, “I have… dangerous feelings about him. Too many. I didn’t want to say, thought it would be better.”

“Well it’s not,” Scott can’t help the bitterness that creeps in, “Whatever you did, you fucked him up and it’s killing him.”

Rozanov lets out a pained cry, “I… I didn’t want to hurt him.”

It’s such a sincere answer that Scott almost can’t believe the next words out of his mouth, “I’m texting you my address. I don’t give a fuck if you’re in Russia or wherever right now, get on the next flight to New York and fix this. If you don’t fix this, you will fucking kill him. Do you understand?”

For once there’s no snarky response from Rozanov. “I will be there.”

Chapter 2: Oh God He Doesn't Know

Chapter Summary

Scott picks Ilya up from the airpot and gives him a piece of his mind. And some advice.

Chapter Notes

Holy shit y'all I was not expecting this fic to do well T^T I'm literally so humbled, thank you for the support! I ended up adding a 3rd chapter because there was too much I wanted to include. Also, sorry for the google translate Russian.

Enjoy! <3

As usual, Kip’s homemade version of Blue Moon Over Brooklyn was infinitely better than Straw+Berry’s. Shane apparently thinks so too because it’s the only thing he’s managed to finish. Kip glances back and forth between Scott and the still unresponsive Canadian still laying on their couch.

“Did you tell him?” He mouth-whispers at Scott. “About… you know who?”

Scott shakes his head, “No. I’m worried what will happen if I do. He’s already…” He searches for the word but can’t find any so he settles on just gesturing to Shane. Kip gets his meaning and nods his understanding. “I don’t want to cause undue stress and anxiety.”

“Fuck that guy,” Kip grumbles.

Scott smiles lightly, “Yeah. We’ll see. You Know Who is a piece of work, but on the phone last night… he sounded scared. I’m not sure he even knows what he’s done.”

“You’re serious? You’re giving him the benefit of the doubt? After all the shit I’ve heard you say and the stuff I’ve seen him do on the ice?”

Scott shrugs, “I feel like I have to. We’re different people in and outside the rink. I have to believe that Roz- I mean, You Know Who is the same.”

Kip doesn’t seem convinced. He leans forward on the counter blowing hot air. “Scott, he’s-” He gestures weakly at Shane. “This is more than just a drop. There’s something else.”

“Yeah,” Scott agrees, “I know. But one thing at a time.”

For a moment Kip doesn’t say anything. “I don’t even know Shane like you do, hell it’s been a single day and I already don’t want anything bad to happen to him. Is that weird?”

Scott laughs, “No. That’s not weird.” He takes a moment to watch Shane. “I see myself in him. You know, back before I met you. Just a scared gay kid who had no idea what he was doing. And it’s not like we’re normal people, you know?” He meets Kip’s gorgeous and understanding eyes. “We’re in the public eye all the time. Everything we do, everything about our lives is judged and on display. If I can help him the way I wish someone had helped me…” His eyes water slightly and he brushes unspent tears away.

Kip pushes back from the counter and pulls Scott into a hug. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” For a while they just hug in the kitchen before Scott pulls away.

“What time is his flight coming in?” Kip asks.

“Couple more hours,” Scott replied. “He texted and said he left for the airport after we hung up.”

“Good.” Kip nodded his approval.

“Can you move Shane to the bedroom?” Scott asks, “I want to give them space but not have their conversation be out here.”

Kip raises his eyebrows, “Alone?”

Scott nods, “Yeah. It’s got to be. I want them to be able to safely open up to each other.”

“Yeah,” Kip gives in, “I can do that.”

After Scott leaves to pick up Ilya, Kip makes his way to the couch. Shane shivers under the blanket, and Kip feels his heart clenching. “Hey,” he calls out softly sitting next to Shane. He places a hand on the blanket, “Shane?”
Shane’s blank eyes do nothing but his body curls in tighter.

“I know you don’t feel great right now and the couch is nice, but it can’t be that comfortable, can it?” He waits for a response, receiving none.

Very gently, Kip kneels so he and Shane can see eye to eye. He brushes a bit of damp hair away from Shane’s face. “Scott went out to pick someone up who can help you get out of this fog.” That gets a small reaction and Kip smiles. “Don’t worry. You’re going to be okay soon.” It feels a little like a lie, but Kip will hold out hope that Rozanov will fix this. If not… well, Kip thinks he’s going to be very familiar with the inside of a jail cell.

“I’ll be okay?” Shane echoes softly.

“Yeah,” Kip places his hand on Shane’s blanket-covered shoulder. “I know you don’t feel great right now and I bet moving sucks. But I need you to be a tiny bit strong for me right now, can you do that?”

Shane squeezes his eyes shut and gives a very slow shaky nod.

“We’ll go slow,” Kip assures him, “Just to the bedroom. You’ll be much more comfortable there. More space to lie down.”

He eases Shane upright, noticing how much tension he holds in his body. It’s crazy for him to think about how much of a beast Shane is on the ice compared to this. He wants to strangle Ilya for doing this to him. True to his word, Kip helps Shane shuffle into the bedroom and get him into the bed. He’s grateful he had the forethought to wash and change the sheets that morning.

There’s a clack as Shane’s phone slips out of his pocket and onto the floor. Kip picks it up, placing it on the nightstand and grabs the charger when he realizes that it’s dead.

Once Shane’s lying back in the bed, Kip draws the curtains shrouding the room in darkness. He goes back and sits next to him. “I was going to go back out to the kitchen, but do you want me to stay?”

There’s a hesitation and Kip takes it as a yes. “Actually,” he says pretending like he’s not as intuitive as he is, “I think I need to lie down. Do you mind if I join you?”

Shane shakes his head and Kip smiles. He lies on the other side of Shane pulling him in close. He feels the kid’s trembling lessen a little. He waits until Shane’s breathing evens out, and a text confirmation from Scott that Rozaonv is in the building that he finally leaves Shane’s side.

-

Scott picks up Rozanov from the airport. For once the Boston hockey player doesn’t have some kind of smart reply or smug little smirk. He actually looks crestfallen and nervous. He’s got a single backpack that looks mostly empty. Something in Scott delights in this display of obvious guilt and remorse. He’s got half a mind to punch him as soon as he gets into the car, but he can’t. He doesn’t want to spray blood in his car. Or explain to the detailer why there’s blood in his car.

As soon as Rozanov slides into the passenger seat, he starts. “Do you know what you fucking did to him?” It’s a tad aggressive but Scott doesn’t care too much.

Rozanov nods his head slowly, “I hurt him. I didn’t tell him my… feelings.” Okay, so not exactly the confirmation he was expecting to hear. Why did Rozanov sound lost?

“It’s more than that,” Scott weaves his way through traffic. He’s trying not to immediately jump into accusations because fuck, Rozanov is twenty-three. He’s old enough to know but does he know what he did wrong? And that’s what Scott needs to find out. He tries a different approach. “Do you know how you hurt Shane?”

Rozanov shifts a little, his brow creasing like he’s already answered Scott’s question. He repeats, “We had sex and I hurt his body?” 

Scott’s gut clenches. Rozanov’s reply is searching, like he’s waiting for Soctt to say ‘yes, you did hurt his body’ and that’s it.

“He is injured?” Rozanov’s voice hitches at the last part and Scott can see the spiral that’s about to happen.

“Yes and no,” He replies and winces when Rozanov does in fact spiral.

He starts talking in a steady stream of panicked Russian. He’s asking questions that Scott has no idea the answer to either that or, he’s concocting random scenarios in which he could’ve hurt Shane. It’s so strange to see him like this, so much… younger than he is on the ice. No bravado or arrogance. This is a queer kid who has no idea what the fuck he’s doing. 

“Damn it,” Scott groans internally. He didn’t want to be right, it would be so much easier if he could yell and lecture Ilya for not practicing emotionally safe sex or aftercare.

“No,” Scott shakes his head, and instinctively grabs Ilya’s arm to stop him from talking. “Not like that.” He lets go of Ilya’s arm in favor of rubbing his face in anticipation of the conversation they need to have. “Fuck, this is going to sound crude but you need to be honest with me.”

Ilya shifts uncomfortably in the passenger seat but he replies with a short, “Okay.”

“In Vegas, you and Shane had sex. What kind?”

“Pervert, I’m not telling you that.”

Scott snaps, “I’m not asking for details you fucker. I’m asking if you did anything that you and Shane don’t normally do.” He lets his voice steady before he continues, this needs to be a productive conversation. “I’m only asking if it was… more intense than usual.”

“Ah, yes.” Ilya’s answer is too short.

Scott sighs in exasperation, “Again. I’m not asking for details, but help me understand what happened so I can help you two.”

“I don’t see how,” Ilya’s voice is clipped. “You are not… with men.”

Scott resists the urge to roll his eyes so far back into his head they’d never reappear. “I’m gay, Rozanov. My boyfriend is watching over Shane right now.”

Ilya’s eyes snap to Scott’s. There’s a wave of… relief that seems to wash over him and a barrier that seems to come down. “I…” He turns his face back to the road. “I wanted to make sure that I would not change what we had. We… we fuck. He leaves or I leave. Is simple.” He doesn’t even sound sure of his own story.

Scott sighs, “It’s not though, is it?”

Very slowly, Ilya shakes his head.

“Because you love him.” Scott states.

“Yes.” Ilya replies miserably; doesn’t even deny it.

“Did you do anything after sex?” Scott presses.

Ilya frowns, “What do you mean after? We have sex, that’s it.”

Scott bites back another exasperated sigh. Thank fuck he’s driving otherwise he’d be throttling Ilya and yelling at him that what he did was wrong. Instead he says, “I saw a text he never sent to you.”

“A text?”

“We didn’t even kiss,” Scott recites.

Ilya makes a choking sound that verges on tears, “We didn’t.”

“You didn’t want to?” He pries further.

“I- I did.” Ilya’s voice is strained, “I wanted to but…” There’s the unspoken fear that Scott recognizes. The kind of fear that came with facing the truth of one’s feelings.

“You were afraid,” Scott confirms, “That if you did something would change between you two?”

Ilya nods numbly. “Yes,” He mumbles.

“After,” Scott gets back on track, “Did you talk? Shower or cuddle? Anything?”

“Sort of.” Ilya looks like he wants to disappear into the seat, “I give him vodka, I had a cigarette. We talk about me going back to Russia.”

“For how long?”

“Not long. Five minutes, I think. Then…” Ilya swallows hard, “I told him I needed to sleep.”

“You kicked him out?” Scott asks. He isn’t accusatory about it and luckily Ilya doesn’t take it as such. He only nods and confirms the rest of Scott’s suspicions. “Okay,” He takes a deep breath. “I think I know what’s going on now.”

“You do?”

Scott glances over at Ilya who’s watching him intently, desperate for an answer. “Yeah,” He says, “But I want to make sure I have the story right first. You and Shane hooked up in Vegas after the NHL awards where you did something different, more intense?”

“Yes. That is right.”

“Then afterwards, you spent maybe five minutes together and then asked him to leave by telling him you needed to sleep.”

Ilya nods again. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Scott takes another breath. “Rozan- Ilya, What you did was dangerous.”

“Making him leave?”

Fuck, Scott hates how Ilya sounds so innocent just then. It makes him think of his early days when everything felt dangerous. 

“Yes and no. It’s not just that. Do you know what’s happening to Shane right now?”

“Yes. You said he’s hurt. Did I… hurt him when we were having sex?”

“Maybe not during,” Scott admits, “He hasn’t spoken to me about that. But it’s the after part.”

“After?”

Scott tries to pick his words carefully, “Shane is… extremely vulnerable right now. He’s mentally distant, his skin is freezing even with a heating blanket, and frankly… depressed.” Ilya pales at that and he looks down and away from Scott, but he can tell that Ilya is crying. But he can’t stop now, because Ilya needs to hear it all. “And, based on the call we had before this, you know that I assumed he’d been assaulted.”

He mumbles something in Russian.

“Sound familiar?” Ilya’s nod is slow. Scott can tell he's still confused, but the pieces are there. So he goes on, “I’m guessing you didn’t feel great after, right?” For a moment Ilya doesn’t answer. “It’s okay if you didn’t.” Scott supplies.

His answer is slow, guilty for having feelings. “I… did not.”

Scott nods, “I’m guessing you had a lot of anxiety afterwards? Guilt, irritability maybe? Lashing out emotionally?”

“Da.”

“Do you still feel like that?”

Ilya fidgets using his thumb to rub the back of his hand, “Only a little now… it was… intense at first… it faded after, but is back now. I- how do you know this?”

“Because I’ve seen it, been there before.” Scott can’t believe he’s actually opening up to Ilya about this. “Back when I didn’t know what I was doing. What you both went through, what Shane is going through right now it’s called a drop.”

“Drop?” Ilya repeats the word softly.

“When you have sex with someone, especially when it’s intense, you need to take care of your partner. Both of you. It’s important to give the other person validation or else you end up in a really dark and shitty place. Shane’s struggling right now, and it’s bad. Really bad, Rozanov.”

“Did I break him forever? He will hate me.” Ilya asks so softly it’s almost a whisper, “How do I fix him?”

“You hold him,” Scott replies, “You tell him exactly how you feel. You tell him that you care and that it wasn’t just sex.” When Ilya doesn’t reply Scott sighs, “Look, I get that it’s scary. Trust me, I know. It’s hard to put your feelings out there especially when you’re not sure if the other person will love you back. It’s putting yourself out there and facing the reality that your relationship is going to be different. It's a risk, for sure. And with us being… who we are, it’s dangerous. But with you and Shane, I kinda get the feeling that it’s mutual. You need to talk to him, Rozanov.”

“I am not good for him. He’s perfect and I am not. It’s better if… if he loves someone else.”

Scott shakes his head, exasperated. These fucking kids. “You don’t get to make that decision for him. Just talk to him.”

Ilya’s nails dig into his skin, “Will you be there?”

“It’s my apartment.” But Scott knows his meaning, “We’ll give you the bedroom to sort yourselves out. But we’re not leaving.”

Ilya nods, “Okay.”

-

Kip is ready to throw hands when he sees Scott leading Ilya into the apartment. He’d already moved Shane to the bedroom per Scott’s request. And sweet, sweet Kip who Scott is 100% sure has never fought anyone in his entire life is glaring daggers at Ilya. It’s unbelievably sexy and Scott can’t help but shove his tongue into the corner of his mouth to try and stop himself from smiling.

“You- you motherfucker!” Kip snaps in lieu of an actual introduction.

The curse does make Scott snort and he quickly steps between his boyfriend and Ilya. “Not right now, babe.” He says.

That makes Ilya’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “You are… really gay.” He says in shock.

“Yeah,” Scott doesn’t bother to entertain the multitude of questions he’s sure that Ilya has. He grabs Ilya by the shoulders and pushes him towards the bedroom. “Go take care of Shane. Kip and I will be here. And uh… I can’t believe I’m about to say this. Please don’t have sex in our bed. That’s not what he needs or what either of you needs. What you need is communication. Real communication.”

Ilya doesn’t reply with anything snarky. He just does and lets himself be pushed into Scott’s bedroom, the door shutting behind him.

“Why?” Kip demands as soon as the door shuts and Scott is leading him to the kitchen. As much as he wants to linger close enough to eavesdrop, he doesn’t.

“I talked to him in the car,” Scott explains, helping himself to an already prepared Blue Moon Over Brooklyn. “He doesn’t know what he did.”

Kip narrows his eyes in suspicion, “He doesn’t know what he did?”

Scott shakes his head, “No idea.”

“So what?” Kips asks incredulously, “Shane is experiencing the worst drop I’ve ever seen in someone all because he didn’t know what aftercare was?”

“Pretty much. I mean it’s a lot more complicated than that but…” Scott sighs. “He knows now. I told him how to fix it.”

“I hope you're right,” Kip takes Scott’s wrist and sips some of his smoothie, “Because if not I’m pretty sure you’re going to be my one phone call.”

Scott laughs and kisses him, taking blueberry and banana on his lips, “I don’t know. I think our one call would be to my lawyer.”

-

Scott Hunter’s room is thick with anxiety when Ilya walks inside. The door behind him shuts and he feels like he’s trapped in a prison. The curtains are pulled shut shrouding the room in darkness, leaving only a haze of light. There’s just enough visibility that Ilya can see the mess he’s created.

Shane lies curled up on the bed, a bundle in a weighted heated blanket. It makes him feel sick, remembering the times when he’d enter his mother’s room and see her basically lifeless on the bed. He wants to vomit.

“Hollander?” Ilya calls out tentatively. 

There’s a shuffle from under the blankets and a very soft, “Ilya?”

Oh god, Shane called him by his first name and he wants to melt into the floor. Not only that, Shane sounds so fucking broken. And it’s all his fault. He inches towards the bed afraid that Shane would just stop breathing if he got any closer.

“Yes,” He says, “I’m here.”

There’s more shuffling and a sniffle. Shane sits up, keeping the blanket wrapped around him. Ilya sucks in his breath. Shane has eyebags so dark it makes him look hollow. His eyes are red and his cheeks are puffy. His eyes stare at Ilya with glassiness and disassociation. Ilya’s heart is pounding so loud and his body goes cold with fear.

He shuffles forward, unable to keep his distance. Ilya kneels in front of Shane taking him all in with tears prickling the corners of his eyes. He reaches for Shane’s hands, and hesitates. Would Shane even want Ilya to touch him? After what he did?

Ilay swallows down fear and asks, “Can I touch you?”

Shane’s eyes still don’t focus on him but he gives a jerky nod. Ilya takes both his hands, feeling just how cold and stiff they are. It reminds him of finding his mother's body and holding her limp and lifeless hand. It terrifies him and breaks his soul.

“I’m sorry,” his voice cracks. “I’m sorry I didn’t kiss you.”

“It’s okay,” Shane answers back, his voice so flat. “I know you don’t really want me.”

“Nyet! That’s not true!” He slides forward wrapping his arms around Shane’s waist. His head rests in Shane’s lap, eyes squeezed shut. “Please, don’t think that.”

Shane shakes his head not looking at Ilya, “You don’t need to lie to me.”

Ilya lifts his head to look up at him. Shane only stares blankly back, tears just falling. “I’m not lying.” Ilya croaks. Moya lyubov, please believe me. I’m not lying. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Shane just shakes his head again, “Please don’t lie to me. I can’t handle that. It’s okay if you don’t want me anymore. I’ll just be good for you, whenever you want.”

Ilya gets up and sits next to Shane making sure their bodies stay in contact. “Look at me,” Ilya pleads and gently cups Shane’s face, guiding him so they can make eye contact. “Please, moya lyubov, look at me.” Tears drip onto Ilya’s hands but he remains firm begging for Shane to look at him. Finally, he does. “I want you.” Ilya rasps, “I want you, Shane Hollander. All the time. Not just in bed. Not just sex. I didn’t kiss you because I was scared of my feelings. I- I like you too much. I was selfish for not kissing you. I thought if I didn’t then… then you could move on. Be happy without me.”

“I don’t want anyone else,” Shane’s tears don’t stop, “Ilya, there was never going to be anyone else.”

Ilya’s heart stops and now he’s crying too. Fuck. Shane becomes a blurry mess but he doesn’t care because he can still feel Shane’s face in his hands and he doesn’t want to let go. 

“Fuck, Shane.” He presses their foreheads together, “Ya boyus'. Mne strashno, potomu chto ya tebya lyublyu.” He can’t say it in English but he knows he needs to. Shane needs to know because he needs to fix this. He needs Shane to know-

“I’m scared. I’m scared because I love you. Ya tebya lyublyu.”

Shane’s eyes flicker and they meet Ilya’s. They stare at each other for such a long time and Ilya braces himself for the inevitable. The part where Shane tells him that he’s not in love. He waits for the rejection.

“I love you, too.”

And Ilya laughs through his sobs. He wraps Shane up into his arms and holds him so tightly whispering “Ya tebya lyublyu.” Over and over again.

“Please,” He begs Shane, “Can I kiss you?”

Shane nods, his voice cracking hard with a new wave of tears, “Yeah. Please.”

And Ilya is pressing his lips to Shane’s pouring every ounce of love he has into the kiss. He never wants to stop kissing Shane. Their kiss is salty but Ilya doesn’t care. He keeps kissing Shane wanting so much more but also feeling so undeserving to be breathing the air that was once in Shane’s lungs. “I love you,” he whispers through each kiss, “I love you so much.”

“Ilya,” Shane whispers back, “Holy shit, I love you so much. I love you. I love you. Please never leave me.”

“I’ll never leave,” Ilya promises, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do,” Shane promises back, “You deserve every part of me and I want to give you everything.”

Ilya leans a little too far and gravity takes them both. They fall back into the bed, Shane still wrapped in the heating blanket. Ilya lifts the corner and Shane wiggles to make room for him. They lay there, face to face arms wrapped around each other. 

“I hurt you,” Ilya states, “In Vegas. Scott says because we didn’t talk, it made you drop.”

“Drop?” Shane asks.

“He says it makes you feel… depressed.”

Shane presses his forehead to Ilya’s. “Yeah… but… I kinda felt…” He swallows hard and his eyes shut. “Used. And dirty. Like I wasn’t anything to you. You didn’t even want to kiss me.”

Ilya hugs Shane tighter, “I’m sorry. That was my fault. I hate that I did that to you. Made you depressed.”

“And you?” Shane asks, pulling back so he can look into Ilya’s eyes. “What were you feeling?”

“I-” This, Ilya realizes is what Scott was talking about. The drop wasn’t just Shane, it was himself too. “I was terrified.” He confessed, “That because we didn’t talk for so long you didn’t want me either. I felt empty without you. I-” Ilya doesn’t want to say depressed because he doesn’t want to be like his mother, not in that way. So instead he says, “I had a lot of anxiety. Bad feelings.”

“I’m sorry,” Shane whispers.

Ilya shakes his head, “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Neither do you, then.” Shane replies.

There’s silence for a moment before Ilya closes the distance and kisses Shane as tenderly as he can. “We can both be sorry together.”

“Okay.” Shane shifts as close as he can to Ilya. “I love you.”

Ilya feels his eyelids start to go heavy, “I love you, too.” He mumbles into Shane’s hair planting soft kisses. The exhaustion catches up with both of them and the last thought through Ilya’s brain thanks Scott Hunter for calling him.

Chapter End Notes

I hope chapter 2 delivered and lived up to the expectations! See you in part 3!

Chapter 3: Scott Hunter, Lecturer

Chapter Summary

Scott sighs, “I don’t want to let them just leave without some kind of talk.”
“You mean a gay sex safety talk?” Kip spins around to give Scott an amused smile.
Scott huffs a laugh and just nods, “Yeah. A gay sex safety talk.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Oh no,” Scott pulls Kip close, not letting him escape, “You’re helping me on this one.”

Chapter Notes

Lol I'm running the registration desk at a work event and no one is here so.... I hope you enjoy the last chapter of this fic! I wonder how many of y'all will get second hand embarrassment?

Kip paces the kitchen while Scott sits on the couch. He’s pretending to read a magazine but he’s been staring at the same perfume ad for a long time. “They’re too quiet.” Kip finally announces after an hour.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Scott tries to reason even though he doesn't quite feel calm either.

“I should bring them tea or something,” Kip says, immediately going for the kettle. “They’re probably doing a lot of talking.”

Scott puts the magazine down and wanders into the kitchen. “Babe.” He wraps his arms around Kip and turns him so they can see face to face. “We have to let them sort this out. I’m anxious too. But all we can do is be here for them.”

Kip sighs, “The water is already on the stove.”

“You can make us tea then. I wouldn’t mind a cup.” He kisses his boyfriend. “We have to trust them.”

Kip just stares at him and Scott sighs. “I know. I heard it as soon as I said it.”

“What’s going to happen after?” Kip asks. He leans against Scott soaking in his warmth.

Scott sighs, “I don’t want to let them just leave without some kind of talk.” He groans, "Ugh that makes me sound so old. Don't tell Rozanov I said that. He'd made too many dinosaur comments and I can't be giving him ammunition."

"What kind of talk?" Kip asks with a glint in his eye that means he knows exactly what Scott's talking about.

"You know," Scott says, "You know."

"No," Kips teases, "I don't know."

"Yes you do." Scott grabs him by the waist and pulls him backwards in playfully nipping at his neck. He buries his face into his shoulder and groans, "Don't make me say it."

“You mean a gay sex safety talk?” Kip spins around to give Scott an amused smile.

Scott huffs a laugh and just nods, “Yeah. A gay sex safety talk.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Oh no,” Scott pulls Kip closer and tightens his grip, not letting him escape, “You’re helping me on this one.” He kisses Kip. “If you do, you can fuck me tonight. Or whenever they go back.”

“Um,” Kip pulls back with an amused expression, “Let me? I get to fuck you whenever?”

Scott laughs and leans in close to whisper in the most seductive way, “But I’ll let you fuck me however and wherever you want me to.”

Kip shivers and squeezes Scott’s waist, “Deal.”

-

Shane’s buzzing phone is what wakes Ilya. A little grumpy at having been woken up, he glances towards the nightstand where Shane’s phone rests. Brightness turned all the way up, he can clearly see Yuna Hollander’s contact. The phone stops ringing and adds to- Holy shit, 19 missed calls and 17 missed texts. Ilya nudges Shane.

“Shane,” he whispers, “Shane wake up.”

Shane grumbles slightly and opens his eyes. They’re clearer than earlier and more cognizant. Relief washes over him. “Ilya?”

“Sorry,” Ilya keeps his voice low, “But your mother is calling you.”

“Oh shit, fuck.” Suddenly alert, Shane tries to twist and reach back but can’t so Ilya grabs his phone and passes it to Shane. The room had gone darker so it must be night. He didn’t check the time when he glanced at Shane’s phone. “I have to call her back,” Shane groans, “She’s gotta be worried. I was supposed to be home already. Fuck, I hope she hasn’t called the police.”

“She would do this?” Ilya asks concern lacing his question.

“Yeah,” Shane confirms, hitting his mom’s contact, “Once when I was a kid, I stayed back to practice and lost track of time. She completely freaked out and called the cops.”

Yuna answers immediately. “Shane!?” Ilya can hear her panicked shriek through the speaker.

“Hey mom,” Shane tries to answer nonchalantly but because he just woke up, it’s rough. He sounds ragged and knows it's not going to go over well with his mother. He can't imagine what she must be thinking. Fuck.

“Don’t ‘hey mom’ me,” Oh shit, she's mad mad. And panicked but there's also a bit of relief in her voice. “Where are you? Your plane landed two hours ago. Dad and I are at the airport and the airline says you didn’t board the flight!”

“Fuck,” Shane whispers pressing the phone to his forehead. Tears threatened to leak out, “I’m- I’m still in New York, Mom.”

“What?” Yuna’s voice softens, “Shane? Are you okay? Baby what’s wrong?”

“I’m okay,” His voice cracks and Ilya can hear Yuna’s soft “Oh baby”. Shane sucks in a deep breath, “I’m okay, Mom. I promise.”

“Are you safe?” Yuna asks, “Where are you? David, get us a flight to New York. Honey, Dad is getting tickets, we’ll come get you. Don't worry.”

Shane shakes his head, “No, Mom. Don’t. It's fine, it's okay. I’m safe, I'm okay. I’m with Scott Hunter.”

“Scott Hunter?” Yuna sounds more worried. “Did something happen with the shoot? Shane, what’s going on?”

"Scott Hunter?" David's voice comes through muffled and equally as concerned. "What happened to Shane? The next flight is in a few hours."

“No, nothing happened with the shoot. Tell Dad to wait, don't fly.” Shane answers, “Um…”

“Baby,” Yuna’s voice is so sweet it makes Ilya’s heart clench. He misses his own mother. He wonders if she would’ve looked out for him the way Yuna does for Shane. He likes to imagine that she would've.

“I promise,” Shane sniffles, “I’m safe, I’m okay. I’ll tell you everything when I get home.”

“Shane,” Yuna’s voice is both firm and gentle, “You're not telling me anything. I want to trust you but you're scaring me. I need you to put Scott Hunter on the phone.”

“Um…”

“I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“Okay.”

Shane shuffles out of bed, wincing as his cramped muscles stretch and creak. Ilya gets up with him, helping Shane to untangle himself from the blankets. They’re both a little sweaty and the cooler air from the AC is a welcome refreshment. Gingerly, they make their way to the bedroom door and open it.

Scott looks up from the couch where he and Kip are watching a true crime documentary. The smell of warm food fills the air and the warm glow of lights gives the apartment a cozy feeling. Shane shuffles out first followed by Ilya.

Scott smiles brightly and Kip looks relieved. He notices immediately that Shane is much more attentive. His eyes aren’t glassy and there’s a healthy pink flush in his cheeks. Even Ilya looks more relaxed. But still... they look like cats who've been caught doing something they should've. Like vomited on the bed. He hopes that's not what happened.

“Hey,” Scott grins and sits up. “Did you sleep well?”

Shane nods and holds up his phone. “Um… my mom wants to talk to you.” His face blushes with embarrassment and Scott can’t help but laugh a little.

He stands and takes Shane’s phone, pressing it to his ear. “Hi, Mrs. Hollander. This is Scott Hunter.”

“Mr. Hunter-”

“Scott.”

“Scott. Shane says he’s with you. Is everything okay?”

Scott nods, he’s great with mothers. Usually because they’re fawning over him, but he figures he can handle this. “Yes, Mrs. Hollander. Shane’s been with me since the shoot. I invited him back to my apartment to have lunch and meet my boyfriend.”

“Oh!” He can hear Yuna’s surprise at the admission. He didn’t mean to say it so casually but the way Kip smiles at him; he knows it was the right move.

“And do you know why my son is crying?” Yuna presses.

Scott glances at Shane and Ilya. “I do, but he’s got to be the one to tell you that.” He hears her start to protest but he cuts her off quickly, “But I can assure you that he’s safe with us.”

"He won't tell me anything either," There's an edge to her voice, "So I hope you can understand why I'm concerned right now."

"Yes ma'am," Scott agrees, "I understand completely. But... I can promise as-" Scott can almost hear Future Ilya lording this over him for the rest of his days, "-as the adult in this situation, I'm making sure that Shane is taken care of. He isn't in any danger and I will personally make sure he gets on his flight home."

“And if I fly to New York right now?” Yuna’s threat is obvious.

It doesn't help that Scott hears David Hollander saying, "Should I book it now?"

He smiles, “I would send you my address and pick you up personally.”

Yuna hums her skepticism but ultimately doesn’t follow through. Thank fuck for that, he's not sure how he would handle this situation with Shane's parents in the mix. “Get my number from Shane and text me when he’s at the airport.”

“Yes ma’am.” Scott agrees, “I’m passing the phone back to Shane.”

He passes it back to the mortified Canadian. “See Mom,” Shane mumbles, “It’s fine.” Scott doesn’t hear what she says after but Shane’s nodding along. “Yes, Mom. Okay. I love you too. I promise, I’ll text you. Okay. Love you. Bye.”

Shane hangs up, shoving the phone back into his pocket. “S-sorry about that.”

Scott shakes his head, “All good, Hollander.”

Kip springs from the couch, “Everyone hungry? You both have been asleep for… actually all day.” He holds up a hand to stop apologies. “All I want to hear is a yes that you’re hungry.”

“Yes, I’m hungry.” Ilya answers. His hand slides into Shane’s.

Shane nods, “I’m hungry too.”

“Good.” Kip heads into the kitchen and Scott motions for them to join him.

Noticing the uncertainty in Shane and Ilya, Scott mercifully gestures to two empty seats. The table is already set for four, and Kip comes over holding a steaming pot of curry. He sets it on a coaster before retreating and returning with rice. 

“Okay,” he smiles and sits next to Scott. “So hopefully everyone is good with curry. It’s a new recipe that I’m trying.”

“I’m sure it’s great,” Scott assures, trying to make everything seem as natural as possible. “It already smells amazing.” He can’t help himself and leans sideways to kiss Kip. “Thank you for cooking.” When he pulls away, he notes the amazement plainly decorating Shane and Ilya’s faces.

“Well,” he says, “Dig in.”

Shane and Ilya follow Scott’s lead in grabbing food. To ease the tension, Scott diverts the conversation to talk about the documentary he and Kip were watching. In earnest, Kip laughs when Scott pulls out his own conspiracy theories about what happened.

“It’s not a conspiracy when there’s an actual ending,” Kip snorts, “We just haven’t gotten there yet.”

Scott laughs back, “Hey, I could be right. You know if I wasn’t a hockey player, I’d be a great detective.”

“Oh?” Kip grins, “You’d be New York’s number one detective would you?”

“Oh, absolutely!”

It’s not lost on Scott the absolute wonder that graces Shane and Ilya’s faces. And he knows what their expressions mean. They’re hopeful. They’re seeing a future version of themselves. The version that gets to be happy and safe and loved. Yes, they’re still in the closet but… there’s a future. There’s hope for something more.

Dinner goes by without Shane or Ilya contributing to the conversation but it’s okay. Shane actually eats and finishes his food. And Ilya doesn’t let go of Shane’s hand once. At some point their chairs had gotten so close together their shoulders were consistently touching. It was heartwarming to see and Scott was glad he’d intervened. It took some convincing (mostly Kips doing) They did agree that when Shane goes back to Montreal, Ilya would go with him. After the emotional rollercoaster of the past couple days, going back into "hiding" didn't seem like the best option for either of them. Not out to the world of course, but at least to Shane's parents.

-

It’s either the jet lag or the sheer emotional exhaustion (or both, Scott thinks) that knocks out Shane and Ilya after dinner. They’d been doing a lot of sleeping but Scott hopes it’s the reset they need. He lets them take the bedroom, instructs them to shower, and gives them some of his clothes to wear.  It does however, mean that Scott and Kip and expanding the sectional so they can sleep on the couch. Scott doesn’t mind, and neither does Kip. He’s just glad the two worked it out.

“What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?” Kip asks, snuggling into Scott.

Scott hums, “Don’t worry about breakfast. I’ll handle it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. You’ve done a lot already.”

“Have I?” Kip grins, “Tell me.”

Scott laughs and kisses Kip. “You’ve been so supportive, you’ve done all the cooking, you let me take in a lost puppy, cared and protected him while I was out, and even trusted me to make decisions.”

Kip smiles, “So what I’m hearing is that I’m the best boyfriend?”

“You are the absolute best boyfriend.” Scott confirms, “No one else compares.” They laugh and kiss again.

“You’re going to talk to them tomorrow?” Kip asks.

“Yeah, I need to.”

“We.” Kip corrects.

“Yes,” He agrees, “We.” Scott pulls Kips closer and shuts his eyes. “Goodnight,” he whispers. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

-

The next morning brings a lighter atmosphere. Shane and Ilya are both up at a reasonable breakfast time. It’s Scott’s turn to make breakfast so he goes with some classic pancakes. Kip made smoothies, of course, but he sits contentedly in a bar chair. 

“Morning,” He greets the pair as they shuffle out of his room. Ilya and Shane both have large body types, but in Scott’s purposefully oversized shirts they both look small. He’s happy to see them both with brighter eyes and calmer expressions. Ilya, it seems, still hasn’t let go of Shane’s hand.

“Hello,” Ilya’s accent seems to be thicker in the morning.

“Morning,” Shane greets back.

“I made smoothies,” Kip gestures to the empty barstools. Still holding hands, Shane and Ilya join them each grabbing a glass.

“Thanks,” Shane says.

“No problem.” Kip tilts his head watching them before glancing at Scott. He nods lightly, catching the unspoken question. He’s not entirely sure how to broach the topic but it has to be done. He grabs plates and starts piling on pancakes hoping the food will provide some kind of reprieve.

“We need to talk.” Scott finally says.

“About?” Ilya asks at the same time Shane says, “Sorry for crashing your place.”

Kip gives them a smile and blessedly steps in for Scott. “First of all,” he says, “You’re not crashing our place. We’re glad you’re both here.” He glances at Scott and then gives Shane and Ilya the most apologetic smile. “We need to talk about why you’re both here.”

Shane and Ilya look at him, mortification written plainly on their faces. Even they know what’s about to happen. “Is because I didn’t tell Shane I love him.” Ilya states scratching his ears and pointedly looking away. “I fix.”

Kip doesn’t back down, “Part of it. I’m sure there’s more to unpack, I don’t have all the insight into your relationship. And this isn’t a lecture or anything like that.” 

Shane’s face grows a darker shade of red and Ilya is looking anywhere but Kip or Scott.

“But,” Kip continues, “Scott and I need to know that you both understand what happened and leave here knowing how to prevent it and take care of each other.”

“Don’t we just talk?” Shane mumbles.

“Yes,” Ilya agrees, “We talked, we fixed. No need to talk to you anymore.”

“This is important,” Scott insists before either of them can argue with him. “So this-“ He waves a hand between them and then gestures to his apartment, “-doesn’t happen again. Those really shitty fucking feelings you both had? Isn’t the embarrassment of this conversation worth preventing that?”

Ilya opens his mouth like he’s going to chirp or say something to stop the conversation from happening but to Scott’s surprise, he shuts his mouth. He looks away but Scott notices how his grip on Shane’s hand gets a little bit tighter.

“Listen, this is just as awkward for me as it is for you,” he starts, “But I want to start with asking questions, okay?”

Shane and Ilya give jerky nods, both flush with embarrassment.

“Do both of you understand what happened to each of you?”

“Drop,” Ilya repeats. “You said it yesterday in the car.”

Scott nods and looks at Shane. “Do you know what that means?”

Shane starts to nod and then shakes his head. “Um, not really. Ilya kinda explained it yesterday.”

Scott nods, “Okay. So dropping after sex is really common, but even more so if the sex is intense.”

Shane looks absolutely mortified and Ilya looks like he wants to vanish into the floor. Kips smiles comfortingly, “I know you don’t want to listen to this, but trust me. It’s worth it.”

Scott goes on, “It’s basically like a shift in your body. There’s a lot of really great shit happening, and then it’s gone. Like… imagine you’re on the ice and the score 0-4 and you’re guaranteed to win. Except all your best players get injured and taken out all at once. And the other team keeps scoring more goals. And then they win. You were flying high at the beginning, right? But then everyone got taken out and you lost, so you’re feeling really low. And then imagine all the fans and media outlets trashing you all over social media. Even your diehard fans are trashing you. And there’s nothing you can do to avoid it. Doesn’t feel good, right? Makes you feel like shit?”

It’s a crude analogy but Scott hopes it gets his point across. He watches Shane and Ilya starting to nod along. “That’s basically what happened to the two of you. Doesn't matter what position you’re in." He doesn't think Shane or Ilya can get any redder but they are. "Giving or receiving. Afterwards, neither of you felt good.”

“You said,” Ilya shifts, still not letting go of Shane, “That to fix, we need to talk?”

“Yeah,” Scott nods. "But there's more." He glances at Kip who smiles his encouragement.

Kip continues for Scott, “Basically, it doesn’t matter what kind of sex you two are having, you need aftercare. Both of you. Take the time to talk to each other, cuddle, reassure the other person that what you’re doing is okay. Even if the sex is vanilla. It takes a lot of guts to be naked with another person. Especially when it comes to sex and emotions. You’re responsible for each other. Take care of each other.” He looks at Scott and then between Shane and Ilya. “Can you both do that?”

Ilya doesn’t hesitate, “Yes.” He looks at Shane like he’s his whole world. Scott believes it. “Yes, I can do that.”

Shane nods, his eyes filling with tears, “Me too.”

Scott nods and smiles. “Good. Now let’s eat some fucking pancakes.”

Chapter End Notes

Thank you all so so much for your love and support on this fic! It's been fueling my soul every time I see your kudos and comments come in! <3 I hope y'all stick with me for some other Heated Rivalry fics. Also, would anyone wanna read a follow up to this fic with Mama and Papa Hollander? Let me know. <3 Love y'all!!