Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander & Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander's Parents, Yuna Hollander, David Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Hayden Pike, Rose Landry, Jackie Pike, Jean-Jacques Boiziau | J. J. Dagenais, Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau, Svetlana Vetrova

Additional Tags:

Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Christmas Fluff, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Smut, Christmas Presents, First Christmas, First Christmas Together, Slow Burn, Thanksgiving, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Making Out, First Kiss, True Love's Kiss, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov's Curls, Ilya's Curls, Fuck AI, What if Hallmark Movies were smutty, I hope it makes you horny & makes you say aww, Not Much Hockey, Christmas Music & Carols, Eventual Smut, Happily Ever After, Real Estate Porn, Pumpkin Carving, pumpkin patch, Found Family

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-08-27 Words: 57,390 Chapters: 12/12

One More Sleep

Summary

What if Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov didn't hook up at the CCM photoshoot, but agreed to fake date instead?

And Yuna used her witchy powers for matchmaking good?

What would it look like if Hallmark had a fake dating at Thanksgiving and Christmas movie, but it was X-rated?

Notes

I asked several people to write this story and nobody did it, so here we are! I love Hallmark fall & Christmas movies. I'm so jealous that Canada gets Thanksgiving so early. And I'm obsessed with Heated Rivalry. They say do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life, so here's my attempt. I hope it gives you warm fuzzies & makes you horny!

Thank you so much to alexporndealer for beta reading! This will likely be my only fic, and you taught me so much <3

There is absolutely no AI in this story. Fuck AI, fuck it to death. But you can pry the em dash from Alex's cold, dead hands.

Chapter 1

Chapter Summary

What happens if they don't hook up at the CCM photoshoot?

Chapter Notes

For the most part, the timeline in this story is driven by the actual Boston and Montreal NHL schedules. Shout out to ESPN for the calendars.

July 9, 2010 - Toronto

Shane groaned internally as he looked down and saw him.

Why was Ilya Rozanov at this photo shoot? Their careers hadn't started, yet even advertisers were pushing this rivalry. Shane guessed it was real to an extent. They were pretty well-matched as players; Shane had a bit more finesse, Ilya made up for that deficit with a bit more power, but they weren't rivals as much as new kids who started together, barely knew each other, and were playing on rival teams. Shane refused to admit that he thought about Rozanov every day since they met, watching him flick a lighter outside the rink in Saskatchewan.

Rozanov skated brilliantly in all black CCM gear around a spinning camera, and Shane wondered why he felt that hot pull in his chest.

"Shane, Shane, are you listening to me? You have to wear your Reeboks," Yuna chided, while simultaneously placing a gentle hand on Shane's arm to refocus his attention.

"Yes, mom, I know. I don't go anywhere when I'm not on skates."

"I know, honey," she replied. "We want you to be happy, and we want to help you maximize everything you can while you're in the NHL. Hockey careers are long for professional athletes, but they're still much shorter than a traditional career. I want to help you be successful and financially independent for the rest of your life as soon as I can. That includes creating the most marketable public persona we can. We want brands to know that kids can look up to you and want to be like you."

"I know, thank you, I'll make sure to wear them out of the building today, and I'll wear them as much as possible."

Yuna looked down at her phone buzzing and grinned. "Shane, it's confirmed! Your aunt, uncle, and grandmother are coming from Japan for Thanksgiving this year. They can celebrate with us and watch you play in your first season!"

"Huh? That's great mom," Shane mumbled, unable to look away from the ice.

"Baaba doesn't have much time left. I know she's going to want to hear that you've met someone in Montreal."

"What? Mom, I haven't even moved there! I think they need me," Shane explained as he began walking away.

Shane heard, "Before you go, sweetie, we should chat after about finding a matchmaker, or even online dating to help you meet a nice girl," as he walked toward the stairs to the locker room.

He whipped around and returned to his mom, "Seriously mom? A matchmaker? And you're going to bring that up here?"

Yuna squirmed a little, because her timing was imperfect. "You know you can get a little nervous and quiet in public," she reminded Shane quietly. "A matchmaker could help you find someone who could help you navigate the new social situations, and definitely look good with the press. It doesn't have to be the person you marry, but someone who can take away some of the stress from being in the public eye. And obviously someone you like being around."

Shane sighed and nodded, maybe she had a point. "We'll talk about this later, mom," he ground out before he walked away.

_____

Ilya stood at the top of the arena watching Shane skate around in his all-black CCM uniform. He knew he would look good as a Metro, but loved how sleek Shane looked in black. He wasn't sure, but he thought Boston and Montreal played pretty regularly, and he was excited to see Shane as often as he could throughout the season.

Ilya couldn't believe that his plan worked. He hadn't stopped thinking about that sweet, soft boy with the beautiful freckles who came up to him and told him to stop smoking. How could someone be so eager and kind, but also bold enough to tell him that he was breaking the rules?

When they were finally on the ice together, he saw Shane's other side, which might have been even more compelling. That sweet boy turned into a powerhouse of a man on the ice. His freckles shone under the flush of exertion, and his eyes gleamed with power and efficiency. Ilya felt a jolt of electricity when they shook hands the first time, and that feeling never fully went away. When Shane was near, it was like his body knew before he saw or heard him. He wondered if he would feel it again. Would they shake hands at the end of the shoot? Ilya wished he could pin Shane in the showers and have his way with him today, but he knew that Shane needed more time.

_____

Shane bent for the first fake face-off against Rozanov. "You look very pretty" rolled out of that luscious mouth, and Shane watched as Rozanov's tongue darted out to moisten his Cupid's bow.

"You're wearing makeup, too," Shane bristled, and wondered if Il— Rozanov watched him stare. What was it with this large, Russian man? He wasn't the only hockey player with broad shoulders, or who was a little bit taller, or who had a Russian accent. Sure, none of the others looked like a Greek god, or like Michelangelo sculpted them, down to each vein and muscle. And why did he care? He was straight, he dated girls, he was NOT into guys. Even this one guy.

After the shoot finished, Ilya reminded himself not to look at Shane while they were showering and dressing. He couldn't stay away forever, though.

Rozanov loomed over Shane, who was seated on the bench in front of his locker. Shane stared at Rozanov's broad shoulders and thick chest, then allowed his eyes to drop down to his jeans, which were zipped, but not buttoned, hanging on his narrow hips and thick hockey thighs. Shane couldn't wait for him to turn around. He admonished himself and looked at Rozanov's face like a normal human.

"When did they tell you about photo shoot?"

He felt uneasy. Why would Rozanov ask? Was Shane a replacement? It was such a quick turnaround. "A couple of days ago, you?"

Rozanov ran his thick fingers through his damp, curly hair. He shrugged easily, like he was even more confident of this conversation than he was on skates. "Was my idea." Shane stared at him in silent disbelief, and Rozanov continued, "I figure we will be rivals, use it for our benefit." He paused to give Shane time to speak and let himself pretend to be even more confident. When Shane did not respond, Ilya kept going. Rozanov held out his hand. "You have phone? Give."

"Why?" Shane asked.

"We are best. Will play against you for years. Press wants rivalry, but maybe is good to know someone in same position as me?" Ilya answered, hoping that would convince Shane.

"You're not just doing this to fuck with me, are you?" Shane asked.

Ilya huffed in response, "no. You are so boring. I come to new country. I know you from juniors and some teammates from summer open skate. Could be nice to have … person who cheers for me?"

"You want me to be your fan?" Shane retorted.

"You already are. But no, like on my side?"

"Do you mean like an ally?" he asked.

"Ally! Yes," Ilya was relieved.

Shane presented his phone to Rozanov while hurriedly blurting, "I can't just have 'Ilya Rozanov' in my phone. My team cannot see that I have spoken to you. We can't be friends." When he got the phone back, he saw a new text, "Hey Jane, see you in September, xo Lily."

Ilya hoped that was good enough cover. He couldn't believe he got Hollander's number so easily, but he was definitely going to keep him close as long as he could. He came to the U.S. to play hockey to get away from Russia and his family. As soon as his mama taught him to skate, he saw it as a way out, and Ilya was good. He worked hard, harder than anyone else on his junior teams, to get faster and more powerful. Hockey had gotten easy, and he was able to beat most of his competition without much effort until he played against Shane in the International Prospect tournaments.

Hollander drew his attention by being incredibly handsome, but he kept it by being fierce on the ice. He was so controlled, so structured, but when he needed to, Hollander could unleash on his opponents. He could slam them into the boards, skate around them, scoop the puck off their sticks, and score on their goalie before they realized it was happening. Afterwards, he would shake their hand and compliment their play. And Hollander would mean it! He didn't realize people could express emotion with just kindness and honesty without a tinge of guile or vitriol.

"September is first preseason game, I checked. You will be in Boston. Maybe we see each other," Ilya continued. "Was beautiful woman your mother? She seemed to tell you something important."

Shane forced himself to stop staring at Rozanov's mouth and remembered, "Oh, crap. She wants me to start dating in Montreal. I haven't even moved there yet!" He didn't know why he told Rozanov that. He never opened up, and certainly not about something people would expect him to enjoy.

Ilya's wheels were spinning. He had Hollander's number, which was the first step. Now Hollander was trying to avoid dating after his mom said she was going to hire a matchmaker? Ilya thought about how he could use this to spend more time with Shane. Maybe he could offer to go on double dates or get them on some stupid reality dating show. He turned Shane toward the door with a gentle push to the back. Shane wondered how Rozanov knew he would be frozen without the assistance, and walked out of the locker room in a daze, hearing, "Goodbye, Hollander!" echoing off the empty lockers. 

He congratulated himself for his email to the CCM marketing team last week. Who could have imagined that fate would hand him such an easy way to spend more time with Hollander?

He came to North America to escape Russia, and he needed to guarantee he could stay. He didn't plan on returning after retirement, though he did want to go back and visit his father every summer, if he could. His attorney was aware of his plans, and they agreed not to pursue citizenship in the U.S. or Canada until he knew where he wanted to be long term. No need to pick a new home country while he was still working in both.

________

A driver took Ilya to the Toronto airport to fly back to Boston. He waited longer than necessary in every line because of his stupid Russian passport. He would kill that shoe bomber who made everyone walk around in socks on a filthy airport floor.

When Ilya landed in Boston, he texted Marleau. He was so glad he met the big hockey player a couple weeks before at the optional summer development. Anything was worth it to get out of Russia sooner, even bag skates, and having a partner in crime made it that much better.

July 9, 2010

10:42 p.m.

here, need to go out tnoight, where is good bar

He showered, changed, and took a cab to the place Marleau said they'd meet at 11:30. There were tons of women at the bar, and eventually he went home with one for a couple hours—no need to stay the night with whatever-her-name-was.

Before they even left the bar, he texted Shane, hoping he would be up and distract him instead.

July 10, 2010

Shane awoke before his alarm at 5:00 am, the first light of the coming sunrise filtering in through the trees in his back yard. Soon it would be his parents' back yard, and he would have a home in Montreal. He sat up abruptly, remembering the conversation yesterday. Why would Rozanov think it's okay to be my friend? Why can't I stop thinking about him? Were his eyes blue or green? How many moles does he have on his—stop! Stop thinking about him and go for your run.

After he finished stretching and downed a smoothie, measured to the exacting standards of the team nutritionist, Shane pulled out his phone:

12:15 a.m.

hollladner

hollandeeer

hollanderrrrrrrr

its olny midnight, why no anser?

its liiiiily, say it like Gloria modern fmaliy

cmoe here secret friend

(((

8:04 a.m.

Good morning, Rozanov.

Why were you up at midnight?

Did you stay in Toronto? You watch too much TV.

11:36 a.m.

why text at sunrise

back in Boston, left canda last night

Marlo on team itnordced and took me otu

Marleou

11:37 a.m.

Marleau?

 Sunrise was hours ago. How are you feeling?

What is (((?

11:39 a.m.

da Marleau

hungover

sad (((

11:39 a.m.

Have you met anyone else on your team? Do you have a place in Boston already?

12:03 p.m. 

Connors and St Simon

yes have apartment, so many questions

12:04 p.m.

I haven't gotten a place in Montreal, we don't report to training camp until early September, so I will move next month. My mom is already interviewing decorators.

12:04 p.m.

ANd matchmkaer

Shit, he had to do something about the matchmaker. Once his mom set her mind to something, she was relentless. And then she'd go and tell Baaba, and Baaba would spend all Thanksgiving asking about who he's dating and trying to find a Japanese foreign exchange student to date.

He hoped he wasn't responding too soon to Rozanov's texts, but they seemed to be keeping pace with one another.

12:06 p.m.

I have to stop her.

I just need to find a girlfriend in the middle of rookie season and training camp to get her off my back. Otherwise, she and my Baaba will spend all Thanksgiving telling me Baaba can't die without meeting my wife. I don't need this.

12:08 p.m.

i will b fake boyfriend

What the fuck? Why would he think Shane wanted a boyfriend? Why did Rozanov look so good to him? He knew he wasn't interested in the girls he had dated, but he figured that was because of hockey. Looking over at his Scott Hunter poster, he shook his head. Who the fuck is calling?

"Rozanov?"

Shane heard Rozanov's voice light up. "Thanksgiving is in November, da? With parade, tall dancing women, and Santa? Is fun? Good food?"

Shane scoffed. "That is American Thanksgiving with the Rockettes and the Macy's parade. Thanksgiving in Canada is the second Monday in October. There's a short break in the Metros' schedule, so now I have to celebrate a long weekend, eat, and pick pumpkins for Halloween. The harvest season is much earlier here," Shane added, like Rozanov needed to know the agrarian history of the country or planting schedules for the region. Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut like a normal person?

"You have break in October?" Rozanov pulled up the email from the Raiders' front office with the training calendar on his phone and scrolled through. Shane wondered why his voice sounded so conspiratorial. "I can fly in night of tenth. I have days off, you have days off, I want to celebrate, you want to avoid matchmaker." Rozanov waited for Shane to catch up, but took his silence as confusion. "So, we do like TV movies. I come to Thanksgiving, be boyfriend, and you are saved."

Shane gaped at Rozanov. "You want to fake date me for Thanksgiving? To celebrate the holiday and keep me from having to get a matchmaker? I'm not… I don't… We aren't… Nobody would ever believe that." Shane stumbled over his words, then remembered Ilya was Russian. "How do you even know about those movies?"

"Ah, Hallmark channel with Christmas movies. I watch to learn English and fall asleep."

From down the hall came, "Shane, honey! We need to grab lunch before we head to the cottage."

"I, uh, I gotta go, Rozanov. I'll, I'll text you," Shane said quickly as he hung up.

What the fuck was he talking about? Fake dating? Fake dating his rival? He was gorgeous. And he didn't want to deal with a matchmaker, or disappoint Baaba. Plus, it would be nice to have an excuse to talk to Rozanov more. Maybe he was right, maybe they should be friends.

4:27 p.m.

fake boyfirend will be fun, da?

4:35 p.m.

Why would you want to be my fake boyfriend?

Why do you think I would have a boyfriend and not a girlfriend?

4:37 p.m.

you have girl to fake date? is 2010, can date who we want

fake dating movies are fun, so we can pretend

maybe pretty Japanese boy will fall in love with me

4:38 p.m.

Half Japanese. Fuck off.

IF we do this, we cannot tell anyone. Not your team, not my team. Nobody but my parents.

4:39 p.m.

am bi, nobody knows

Russia cannot know I am bi, will not tell team

4:41 p.m.

How would we pull it off? We don't know each other.

4:41 p.m.

is months awya can text until September game

4:43 p.m.

Why would I come out to my family if I'm not gay?

4:43 p.m.

bisexual erasure, can date women in future

4:46 p.m.

How do you know bisexual erasure? Nevermind.

Okay, what do we need to know about each other? You're from Moscow, right? I think an article I read says you have a brother?

4:47 p.m.

from Moscow

fuck my brother

4:50 p.m.

I guess I shouldn't ask.

Have you always played hockey? Any other sports?

4:56 p.m.

mama taught me to skate at 5

father wishes was in КХЛ

4:57 p.m.

I am an only child, I started skating when I was 4, I am from Ottawa, billeted in Toronto and Alberta. International Prospect Cup the last two years, you know how that went. My favorite color is blue and I have allergies in spring.

5:01 p.m.

fav color is green, 2d fav is freckles

only drink Russian vodka and coke never together

want 2 dogs and beahc house

5:02 p.m.

Your second favorite color is freckles?

You should drink water.

I'll make you a healthy smoothie when you come to visit for Thanksgiving.

5:04 p.m.

so is official! we will be boyfriends for thanksgiving like in movies )))

5:05 p.m.

We can't be boyfriends in our phones, you have to be my girlfriend.

That's why you are listed as Lily and I am listed as Jane.

5:07 p.m.

yes my sweet jane

will delete all other names and g*nders

Shane put down his phone and stared into space. He wasn't gay, was he? That didn't matter, he didn't need to worry about that right now. He needed to get his mom off his back, avoid a matchmaker, and focus on being the best rookie the NHL had ever seen. If that meant pretending to be gay or bi or who the fuck cared with Rozanov so he could focus on hockey, that's what he would do.

________

Summer drifted away as Shane purchased a condo in Montreal. Even if he didn't stay, real estate appreciated, and he could always rent it out if he had to move before he built sufficient equity to sell for a gain. Yuna hired a decorator who made sure Shane had soft fabrics, nothing itchy, lots of lamps, and a massive TV and entertainment system. He wanted to be sure he could watch game film nightly. He hinted at a girlfriend to keep her from hiring the matchmaker.

Ilya settled into a routine with Marleau and Connors, going out three or four nights per week, going home with adorable girls, and always giving them a fake number. He ran, lifted, and skated most days, getting ready for training camp, which started on a Tuesday after a holiday called Labor Day.

He dreaded the calls from his father. Why did he have to call and insult his play during off-season? Of course Ilya knew why, and he did his best to respond, "Yes, sir," and not take the harsh criticism to heart.

But every evening, he looked forward to a text from his Jane. Sometimes there would be a short story from his childhood, sometimes Jane would explain food they would eat or traditions they had for Thanksgiving. No matter how mundane, it was the light of Ilya's day.

________

Shane picked up the phone and called his parents. This should be normal. He did this almost every night since moving out. Shane steeled himself for the response he was dreading,.

"Mom? Hi, is dad home, too? I wanted to tell you something."

"Sure, honey, hold on. David, will you please pick up? It's Shane!"

"Hi, son, we miss you."

"Um, hi dad, I miss you too. Listen. Uh. So I'm going to bring someone to Thanksgiving. I'mbringingIlyaRozanovhe'smyboyfriendI'mbisexual."

"Rozanov?!"

"Yuna!" David whispered.

"You're bringing Rozanov? You're dating Rozanov?"

"Should I try to find a shirt with a rainbow pumpkin for Thanksgiving?"

"No, dad! Ugh! That's so embarrassing. So I guess you're not upset that I'm bi?"

"Of course not, honey, we love you!" Yuna said. "We're so proud of you." She continued, "I think we'll tell the family that he's just a friend in town for the holiday. That way we can be sure nobody accidentally shares that you're bi before you're ready."

"I guess, mom."

"But really, Shane, Rozanov? You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure, mom. You'll see."

________

September 22, 2010

12:53 p.m. 

jane

jane

jane

12:58 p.m.

Hi Lily, how is your day? Are you excited for tonight?

Did you just wake up from your nap?

1:02 p.m.

jane I will see you tonight

you are in Boston? you see me now?

1:03 p.m.

I am not going to spend time with my "girlfriend" the day of my first NHL game.

We will see each other after, just like we agreed. I will take a cab to your house. What is your address?

1:04 p.m.

2886 Beacon

wish you could come now

________

Preseason hockey was not worth losing sleep over. Shane knew Thierault would try new lines for the next two weeks, besides, he scored his first goal in the NHL! In the second period, not during garbage minutes. And Ilya scored two of Boston's four goals. Shane repeated to himself in the locker room and shower, "I will not lose sleep over a preseason loss." Maybe he'd actually believe that one day.

Shane's hands trembled as he zipped up his jacket and hopped into the cab for the twenty-minute ride to Ilya's apartment. He climbed the stairs two at a time, hoping it would cover for any flush on his cheeks from anticipation. Ilya ripped the door open like he was listening for footsteps. "My Jane is here! Come in, come in."

________

Ilya paced the floor waiting for Shane. They completed stupid post-game interviews, they showered, and he got the text that Jane was coming over, so where was he? Footsteps from the stairwell rang out and Ilya threw the door open, wishing he could tackle Shane in a huge hug. Instead, he stared at the beautiful freckles and the big brown eyes looking up at him through long eyelashes. Disney princesses had nothing on Hollander. "My Jane is here! Come in, come in."

He drank in Shane's flushed cheeks and pretended not to notice both their hands trembling. "I can't believe we're doing this. I can't believe I'm here." At the exact same time, "I can't believe you're here. I can't wait to do this!"

"Wait, why are you so excited?" Shane asked.

Ilya mock-gasped. "You don't know why I'm excited? I get to celebrate first Thanksgiving, pretend date beautiful famous athlete, and act out TV Christmas movie. Is dream come true weekend."

Shane began nervously listing what Ilya should expect. "We'll meet in Ottawa at the airport after your game on Sunday night and drive to my parents' house together. I have to be in Montreal for our game on Wednesday. You can come with my family or head back to Boston that day. We'll have Thanksgiving on Monday and on Tuesday we can go to the pumpkin patch."

"A pumpkin patch?" Ilya actually hopped up and down and clapped. "Will we pick pumpkins? And apples? Have donuts? Petting zoo? I hope I can pet goat!"

Shane laughed. "And everyone thinks you're an asshole."

They settled in for a post-game meal of chicken, vegetables, and rice. Shane asked Ilya about training camp and the facilities and his favorite drills. Ilya asked Shane whether he had seen Inception or Toy Story 3. They joked about dumb Americans and almost admitted they were nervous about the upcoming season. Shane was surprised how comfortable he was with Rozanov.

Eventually, Shane thanked him for dinner, not wanting to leave this magical, funny man. The pull in his chest got stronger through the evening. Shane backed slowly toward the door, trying to find a reason to stay in his orbit. Ilya followed slowly; his lips were slightly pouty. A light shone behind Ilya's eyes, and he jumped and grabbed Shane's arms. "Wait! One more thing from movies!" and crashed his lips into Shane's.

Shane jumped back for a moment, then melted into Ilya's molten honey mouth. He reached behind Ilya's strong neck, gripping, and opened his lips and felt Ilya's tongue with his own. They deepened the kiss, and Shane tangled his fingers into Ilya's curls, hearing a moan, unsure whether it was his or Ilya's.

Ilya wrapped his solid arms around Shane's waist, pulling him closer, savoring every moment, and grabbed his jawline with his right hand. Then, he placed a hand in the center of Shane's broad chest, feeling the thump of his heartbeat, and reluctantly pushed back.

"Now when we must kiss at Thanksgiving, it won't be first. Everyone can tell."

Shane couldn't read Ilya's face, but still stared, attempting to memorize every moment of their shared heat.

Chapter 2

Chapter Summary

Thanksgiving in Ottawa - what could go right?

Prepare for pumpkin patches and cinnamon. Time to wrap yourself in your favorite flannel, add comfy boots, and make a mug of tea or bake something autumnal.

Smut is coming very soon, I promise.

Who isn't going to fuck it up?

Chapter Notes

Baaba, Hiroko, is a real woman in my life. She survived the bombings and moved to my hometown and married someone I knew my whole life. I hope you love her as much as I do.

And if anything sounds too Southern American for Canada, it's not.

Thanksgiving Day - October 11, 2010

Ilya followed the signs to the rental car lot after reading the text from Shane that said he was waiting in a Jeep. Canadian Octobers made it easier to wear a hoodie and a hat to blend in as well as a professional athlete over six-feet tall could expect.

"Did anyone recognize you?"

"No. Am inconspicuous."

"It's a thirty minute drive, do you need anything? I got you a water and cashews, they're in the cup holder."

Ilya swallowed a grin, thinking was Hollander what? Boy Scout? before he settled in for the drive. He asked questions and made comments about Ottawa.

"What is this river called?"

"So much space. Did you grow up on farm?"

Shane answered as best he could. He never knew Rozanov could be eager or interested in anything other than hockey and pretty girls.

They passed a sign for Mādahòkì Farm. "What is that?" Ilya asked, "It doesn't look like English," he continued, wondering why the stupid language had even more odd letters.

"It's an indigenous farm. Their people were in Canada long before white settlers arrived from Europe. They have Ojibwe Spirit Horses, the only breed native to Canada. They have a breeding program to save the wild horses who survived. They do programs where you can meet them and groom them. They paint ceremonial markings on them sometimes, too." Shane felt Ilya's energy shift, "Don't worry, it's safe. They would never hurt the horses."

Ilya couldn't wait to come back and meet the wild horses.

"Maybe we can race them. I would win, of course."

Shane laughed and rolled his eyes, "Asshole."

Ilya was glad to see some roundabouts. They felt like Moscow and Boston, even if they were surrounded by woods and fields. He would love to get his cars out here with these straight, flat roads and no police to slow him down.

As they pulled up to the house, the grin returned. It was not large or ostentatious, but it was a real home with trees in a big yard, a Canadian flag on a flagpole, and a lamppost decorated with cornstalks and puffy orange and purple flowers. David and Yuna were standing at the door, waving and smiling. Ilya reminded himself that this was all for show, it was not real, and it was not his, but he beamed as they exited the car.

 Behind David and Yuna was Shane's Baaba, Hiroko. She was a petite woman with piercing dark brown eyes. She had wire-rimmed glasses and her silver hair was styled in a modern bob. She reached up as far as she could to hug Shane, then Ilya, around the chest. Baaba whispered something to Shane that made him blush, then she winked at Ilya. He loved her immediately and knew right away they would be co-conspirators and friends. Auntie Keiko and Uncle Hiroshi greeted Shane with a pat on the shoulder and handshake, respectively.

________

"Ilya dear, will you help me in the kitchen?" came a lively request from Baaba.

"Yes. How can I help?"

"We are making gyoza, dumplings with cabbage, pork and spices. Do you have anything like that in Russia?"

"Pirozhki," Ilya responded dreamily, picturing his mother tucking cabbage or beef into dough and frying it, then serving it with sour cream. "Russian dumplings, very good."

Shane looked up from the puzzle on the kitchen table and smiled, suppressing the desire to ask Ilya what he was missing.

"Next year, I will teach you to make mochi," Baaba told Ilya, with a gentle shove and a smile.

Shane wondered, would Ilya ever consider coming back? Would he want him to come back? The weekend was going much better than expected. Maybe they could be friends one day. Friends who kiss?

________

Thanksgiving dinner was exactly what Ilya hoped for. The Hollanders had a big dining room table with a pumpkin-print tablecloth and a single place setting for each member of the family. They all carried their plates to the pots, pans and bowls packed onto the stovetop and kitchen island, where Yuna served gyoza, vegetables and mashed potatoes, while David carved the turkey.

Ilya couldn't believe his luck with Shane's family. What do you mean he could have good turkey, dumplings that reminded him of home, and nobody angry at dinner? He kept going back for more, piling green beans and mashed potatoes and turkey and gravy and this magical thing called stuffing. From time to time, Ilya looked up from his plate and glanced around the table, full of people who love each other and were glad to be there. No ulterior motives, nobody trying to steal money or belittle another at the table. Ilya wondered if this was real life.

He had seconds, and then thirds, before Yuna reminded him of pumpkin pie, pecan pie, pumpkin zucchini bread, sesame cookies, and hazelnut biscotti for dessert with coffee.

"You know, stuffing was my favorite before dessert. Now I cannot decide between pumpkin pie and sesame cookies."

After helping to pack away fewer leftovers than normal and drying the dishes Shane washed, Ilya piled onto the floor at the foot of the sofa, where the family lounged together watching Scott Hunter and the New York Admirals play San Francisco.

Ilya actually pinched himself as Shane fell asleep on his shoulder.

________

Yuna woke the family and sent Auntie and Uncle to the spare bedroom, and Baaba to Shane's room. She helped Shane and Ilya blow up air mattresses for the floor of the formal living room. Shane joked that he was never allowed in there unsupervised, and that Ilya was not the right chaperone.

They settled into matching air mattresses, squeaking with each shift in weight.

"Hollander, is fun," Ilya whispered. "Thank you for fake dating me at Thanksgiving. I'm still excited for tall dancing ladies in New York, but Canadian Thanksgiving with family, dumplings, and stuffing is special."

"I'm glad you came," Shane answered. "What are family dinners like in Russia?"

"They're—" he trailed off, deciding not to talk about it. "Enough, we should sleep." Ilya bristled and rolled over with one more squeak, before pretending to fall asleep while listening to Shane breathe.

________

"All right everyone, half in my car, half in Shane's Jeep! We don't want to keep the pumpkins waiting!" Yuna called, as the family pulled on coats and sunglasses for a day at the pumpkin patch.

Shane did a double-take as Ilya strode down the front steps in what had to be slow motion, that pull in his chest drawing him upward. Ilya's designer jeans almost strained over those delectable thighs, and his boots were entirely too pretty for a hayride. He had borrowed Shane's favorite yellow and brown plaid shirt to wear under Ilya's black leather motorcycle jacket. Shane looked down to his faded blue hoodie, jeans, and work boots and hoped Ilya liked his cozy look before he could stop his thoughts.

Ilya helped Baaba into the front seat and jumped into the backseat. He smiled inside as he watched Shane's eyes dart between the road and him in the rearview mirror.

________

Ilya's face cracked into a huge grin as they pulled into the gravel lot next to the large hand-painted pumpkin signs. His eyes surveyed an old wooden barn with a bright red "Gift Shop" sign, a line of tractors with wagons behind with actual hay on them, a huge field of pumpkins and an apple orchard beyond, and then small pens in a covered area with, "Hollander! Goats! Can we pet goats?" Shane laughed as they all piled out of the cars toward the petting zoo.

Ilya squealed for a second, "No, no baby goat, cannot eat Hollander's shirt," he explained, while pulling the hem out of the goat's mouth.

Yuna got pictures of Ilya with Baaba, David, and Shane all petting the goats, a pig, a pony, and a little cow. Shane made her promise not to share them with anyone, but smiled to himself when he realized that there would be a permanent memory of this absurd but fun weekend.

Ilya could have stayed with the animals all day, hugging and petting them, cleaning out their stalls, learning what to feed them and how often. He couldn't wait to get a dog, but maybe one day he'd buy a small farm with goats and a mule who was almost as stubborn as Shane.

Ilya grabbed Shane's hand and pulled him past the sign pointing out all the attractions and shouted, "Corn maze! What is corn maze? We go!" They sprinted through the maze until Ilya turned around at a dead-end. Shane, a couple steps behind, looked up, and ran smack into Ilya's solid chest.

"Oof. I'm um, I'm sorry, I wasn't looking, I'm sorry, are you o-," Shane mumbled. He stared at Ilya, taking in the way the flaxen streaks in his hair shone under the fall sunlight. He marveled at the natural flush in his cheeks, still slightly golden. He stared, wondering, when all of a sudden, Ilya grabbed his chin, tilting Shane's face up.

"I'm perfect, this is perfect, you're…" Ilya leaned in kissed Shane and shutting himself up. Their lips met, barely a flutter between them, before they were interrupted.

Giggles filtered into their small section of the maze, and Shane jerked away, turning around quickly to make sure nobody saw them.

"That's too close. We're in public!" he spat, as he turned on his heel from Ilya. Shane's face cracked into a shy smile and he shivered as he marched away.

They kept turning through the maze, both finding every opportunity to grab the other's hand or rest a chin on the other's shoulder.

They found their way out of the corn maze, no longer hand in hand, and boarded the hayride, first to pick pumpkins. 

Ilya hopped onto the hay wagon to the pumpkin patch, and held out his hand to help Shane up. He didn't let go as they settled in for the quick, bumpy ride. Shane bristled, but squeezed back with a gentle smile as he gazed over the fields. He couldn't believe the farm had an apple orchard, corn field, pumpkin patch, and were those Christmas trees?

Ilya hopped off the wagon at the first stop, the pumpkin patch. He surveyed the space, with the low, leafy, viney plants and the big orange pumpkins, then the Christmas trees beyond. Ilya looked back at Shane, beamed at his sweet boy, and jogged down the first row, laughing.

Shane just watched for a minute, he couldn't help but grin, then tore off after Ilya (watching where he stepped so he didn't trip over an errant vine and miss a game). Later, the boys carried six pumpkins back for Yuna, three perfect round orange ones for carving, a fat, warty, reddish one, a soft sage one, and a tall, slender white one.

"I will call the one with warts Igor, green is Anna, white is Casper," Ilya exclaimed with a laugh. "The orange ones will get names when we carve them."

They rode the hayride back to drop off the pumpkins and met Yuna and David, who were about to ride out and pick apples.

"Why don't you join us?" Yuna said to the boys, "You can help us choose good apples, and maybe I can make apple pancakes at Christmas!"

The four piled back onto the hay wagon, and Ilya made sure to sit next to Shane. Closer than they probably should in public, but they had to make room for everyone else joining in. They picked at the hay and enjoyed the warmth of the sun, as autumn would soon fade into winter.

"Boys, we're filling two bushels today, we can separate out the varieties for weighing at the farm stand. Since you're carrying, fill them up as much as you want!"

"I prefer Honeycrisp and Fuji," explained Shane, "because they have the lowest glycemic index. An apple a day only keeps the doctor away if it doesn't give you diabetes."

"Are apples, not even candy apples. You are professional athlete, you don't have diabetes," Ilya said, taking a bite of a freshly picked Pink Lady.

Shane stared at Ilya and added more Honeycrisp to the bushels.

"Pink Lady is my favorite," Ilya exclaimed through crunchy bites. David grinned and added a few more Pink Lady apples to the bushel, winking in his direction. He would make sure Ilya had them in his carry on before he left for Boston.

Shane explained, "Granny Smith also have a lower glycemic index, but they're pretty tart by themselves. I'll add more so mom can make apple pie."

"I wish we could stay for pie," Ilya pouted.

Once the bushels were full, Shane and Ilya fought over carrying them back to the hayride, with Shane winning. Ilya decided to be helpful in another way, by holding out his hand and helping Yuna onto the hay wagon like Prince Charming. Once she was safely aboard, he kissed the top of her hand gallantly before letting go. She giggled at him, and they rode back to the main barn area.

Before they left, the family entered the old barn turned gift shop to pay for everything. Ilya followed his nose to two separate cinnamon confections.

"Speculoos is a Belgian cookie, typically made with cloves, nutmeg, cardamom, white pepper, and ginger," Shane explained. "This Speculoos popcorn is a little buttery, a little sugary, and covered in autumn spices."

Ilya picked up a second bag.

"Apple cider donuts? Dozen, please." Ilya retrieved his donuts and immediately took a huge bite. "Hollander, Hollander, taste." Ilya grinned and shoved the donut in Shane's face until he took a small bite and he smiled up at Ilya through dark lashes, his cheeks flushed pink.

Ilya spotted one more must-see attraction tucked around a corner, hidden from view.

"Hollander, kissing booth!"

He tucked himself in behind the booth and leaned forward, "Gimme kiss."

Shane blushed, looked around, and leaned over for a quick peck that, of course, lingered.

Yuna and David smiled at each other, knowing each had gotten a photo from a different angle.

________

The family piled into the two cars loaded down with two bushels of apples, six pumpkins for the Hollanders, one small pumpkin Ilya got in the farm shop and swore he would be able to carry on back to Boston, two bags of popcorn, what was left of a dozen apple cider donuts, and a few pockets full of hay, and left over grain from the petting zoo. Ilya settled into the back seat with a sigh, silently acknowledging that this was likely the best weekend of his life. So this is what home should feel like, Ilya thought, as he hauled pumpkins into the house.

"It's a little early, but why don't you boys carve a pumpkin for Halloween?" Yuna asked.

"Carve pumpkin? Will pumpkin hurt?"

"Of course not. What do you want to carve into it? A scary face? Cartoon character? A ghost?" Yuna offered options.

"Spongebob."

With that settled, Shane placed newspapers all over the island, and Yuna pulled out the tiny, acid green plastic pumpkin carving kit. David brought three printed Spongebob stencils from his office and offered them each to Ilya.

"Here, son, which face do you want to carve?"

"This. Good smile," Ilya choked out, hoping no one noticed his reaction to being called "son."

"You might think a big chef's knife would work better for carving the pumpkin, but these small knives are the best. The tiny blade allows you to get small details," Shane pointed out as he started cutting the bottom out of the pumpkin. "Trust me, this works better than cutting the top," and then, "Do you want to scoop any of the guts?"

"Scoop guts? What?" Ilya shuddered as Shane pulled out the first handful of pumpkin seeds and flesh. He marveled at Shane's willingness to get his hands dirty and play with the slimy, stringy mess. It seemed so unlike him, but Shane looked like he was in his element.

David helped Ilya center the drawing and trace on the image before they cut out Spongebob's face.

"If we only scrape off the top layer of flesh here, we can use a melon baller to scoop out Spongebob's divots. The light will shine through differently where it's thinner."

"What is divot?" And then, "Carve? Flesh? Guts? Halloween sounds like Russian literature."

When Spongebob was done, Ilya grinned and posed with the pumpkin on the front porch.

________

They reluctantly packed up, and Shane hugged Baaba, Auntie and Uncle. David squeezed him, reminding everyone that they would see him tomorrow night at the game in Montreal.

"We enjoyed having you, come back soon, son," David said, giving him a quick hug, pat on his back, and the tell-tale sound of throat clearing to hide a tear.

Yuna cradled Shane's chin, reminded him how much she loved him, and smothered him in a motherly hug. She turned to Ilya, "Thank you for joining us and becoming a part of the family. You'll have to come back for Christmas! It will just be the four of us, but you can teach us how to make Russian tea and cookies. It won't be the same without you, sweetie."

Ilya melted into her, burying his face in her long, dark hair, and held on just a second longer than he intended. He cleared his throat and said, "I promise I'll try to come back, mama Yuna."

They drove away, as Ilya leaned out the window to watch the family, waving from the front porch until they couldn't see each other anymore.

________

After the boys left, Yuna sent David in as she collected herself on the front porch. Stiff upper lip, no reason to cry when she'd see her baby boy at his next home game.

That evening, David commented that Ilya was so much funnier than he expected. He could see how much affection he had for Shane, but David wasn't sure either was ready to admit it.

"You know," Yuna said to David, "I knew within three hours of meeting you that I was going to marry you. I didn't think I'd ever get that feeling again. But I got it this weekend."

"You were right then, but what feeling did you get this weekend?" David asked, smiling at his beautiful wife's magic.

"Ilya's going to marry Shane," she answered, "if he doesn't fuck it up."

"He won't fuck it up. At least not eventually. It might take them a few more years to figure it out, but he's not going to fuck it up," David responded wistfully.

Chapter End Notes

Does Ilya actually know the word "inconspicuous"? Likely not, but I want to hear him say it!

I hope you liked the drive - I pictured all this stuff in my head, then decided where on the map in Ottawa Shane's house should be. I found the perfect neighborhood and "drove" it with Google Maps. Mādahòkì Farm is real and now I want to go and visit the Ojibwe Spirit Horses one day.

If you're from the area, I didn't mean to copy a lot of the big farm nearby. The inspiration is my local pumpkin patch with Christmas trees and a Hallmark movie (October Kiss).

Chapter 3

Chapter Summary

Christmas in Ottawa - it's time for a parka and Christmas lights and cookies and movies!

Japanese Christmas Eve and cock sucking incoming.

Chapter Notes

Thank you for reading this far. You get smut this chapter!

October 14, 2010

3:53 p.m.

dear miss Yuna and mr David thank you for having me for thanksgiving

was favorite holiday

4:06 p.m.

Ilya, we were so glad to have you! I mean it, I hope you'll come back for Christmas! 

We hope to see you again soon. In the meantime, my New Yorker and NY Times crossword username is DavHollandR

I'm glad to help you with any clue you need

4:08 p.m.

thank you hollanders, will return if Shane wants

canadian christmas sounds like lot of fun

Ilya sat back in his plane seat, smiling about being added to a group chat with the Hollanders. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to memorize every detail of what it was like to have a happy, healthy, loving family.

________

October 13, 2010

10:25 p.m.

jane

jane

why lose to tampa?

why you lose in OT?

must work on backhand

I would beat thme

October 14, 2010

7:15 a.m.

Hi Lily, how are you today?

We're going to beat Buffalo tomorrow, but first we have to go to Buffalo.

10:06 a.m.

happy to talk to my jane

and her Yuna and David

10:08 a.m.

You talked to my parents?!

10:10 a.m.

to thank them for thanksgiving visit

they ask me to come for chrismtas

shouldn't I come for christmas?

10:13 a.m.

We don't have games the 24th or 25th. I can fly in after the game in Carolina on the 23rd and fly to New York on Christmas day.

Would you even want to deal with that twice?

I told them we weren't together, so we don't have to fake date.

10:17 a.m.

could fly in same time from Atlanta and fly out same time to Florida

might not want to leave warm

of coruse I want to see David and Yuna and christmas and decorate cookies and watch movies with family

can be fake friend instead of fake date

10:22 a.m.

Okay then, it's a date!

Well, not a fake date, but a real date on the calendar to be fake friends instead.

______

December 23, 2010

Montreal finally got a win against Carolina, and Shane boarded the plane headed to New York and then Ottawa relieved. He saw Ilya a week before in Boston and wished he had the guts to go back to his apartment again.

Ilya practically sprinted out of TD Garden to get to the airport and on a plane to Ottawa. He should have asked Shane to fly into Boston so they could talk on the flight. Ilya wondered if Shane would join the Mile High Club with him, and then laughed out loud at the angry kitten face he pictured Shane making.

Of course he couldn't be out, not with his father alive and as a Russian citizen. It wasn't as bad in 2010 as it would get by 2013, but it was not safe to be gay in Russia. Regardless, Ilya had no question that he was bisexual and that he could not resist Shane. Two months apart made that more obvious than before.

They had agreed to meet at the arrivals desk at the front of the airport. Ilya loved the sights of people scurrying around with gifts, hugging long lost family. He sang along when he knew the Christmas songs and counted the wreaths on the steel triangles supporting the roof while he waited.

"Seriously?" Shane snapped at Ilya as he walked up, "You're just standing in the middle of the airport looking like that, staring at the ceiling? Everyone recognizes you!"

"Is good to see you, too, Hollander. Merry Christmas."

"We should have met at the car again. Follow me, but stay back!" Shane whispered loudly.

________

Ilya happily rode in another boring Jeep, watching the colorful lights reflect off the snow on their journey. He plugged his phone into the aux jack and immediately started belting along with Mariah Carey, "IIIIIIIII don't want a lot for Christmas, There is just one thing I need, I don't care about presents underneath Christmas tree … All I want for Christmas is yooooouuuuuu!" Ilya pointed at Shane, then around the car like the little girl at the end of that Christmas movie in London.

The lights crept by as Shane drove like an old man. Ilya noticed on his second visit that Shane's home was farther from their neighbors, not like the other houses they passed that were kind of squished together, and he grew up on a road without sidewalks or street lights.

Ilya's knee started bouncing as they got closer. You will not ruin this, Rozanov, stop thinking like that. Yuna and David want you here, they want to sing songs and decorate cookies, and watch Christmas movies together. Stop.

As Shane turned in the driveway, the headlights shone on Yuna opening the front door, David right behind her, as they rushed to the driveway to greet their boys.

"We're so glad you're here! Come, give me a hug! Get inside, it's so cold!" she said. "Shane, help your father with the bags, please. Ilya, come with me sweetheart."

"Uh, hi mom, dad, Merry Christmas." He handed a bag to David and shrugged. They lugged the bags in together with a chuckle.

Ilya walked into the house, arm around Yuna's waist, determined to soak in this feeling so he could remember it for the rest of his life. He immediately smelled cinnamon and pine, and he heard the fire crackle as the warmth enveloped him.

There was a Christmas tree in the family room to the right of the TV. It was the one he could see from outside. The tree had big, multicolored lights, colorful round ornaments, handmade ornaments, and a topper made of two tiny hockey sticks and a puck.

Across the hall was the dining table where it felt like they just finished Thanksgiving dinner, except it had a snowflake tablecloth and wreath of Christmas balls in the middle. Two tall, skinny trees flanked the table, and their warm white glow radiated from the doorway. Through the dining room, Ilya could see Christmas towels hanging in the kitchen and tiny white lights above the cabinets.

"You'll stay in the guest room this time, Ilya. You can have a real bed and not have to sleep on the floor. I know Shane will be grateful for the recovery time."

"Mama Yuna, your home is more beautiful than before. Is this typical Christmas?"

After they dropped their bags in their respective rooms, the boys sat down in the family room. Yuna carried in a big bowl of popcorn drizzled with butter, white chocolate, M&Ms and sprinkles, and David followed with four mugs of hot cocoa and a bottle of water for Shane.

Four red, fluffy stockings hung by the fireplace, one obviously newer than the others, and they read Dad, Mom, Shane, and Ilya in crude glittery cursive.

Ilya choked back tears. "You made me stocking? Thank you," he squeaked.

Shane bumped Ilya's shoulder and said, "I think we have time for one Christmas special before bed. Charlie Brown or The Grinch, you pick."

"I have seen Jim Carey as Grinch, but not Charlie Brown at Christmas, I pick him."

Shane watched Rozanov closely as Charlie Brown described sadness about the commercialism of Christmas. They all laughed as Ilya threw his head back and shimmied like the children at the Christmas pageant. Everyone got quiet as Linus recited the meaning of Christmas and the kids circled around Charlie's scrawny tree, singing. As the credits rolled, Ilya heard that he was not the only one sniffling.

David stretched, rising, and exclaimed, "Time for bed! We'll see you in the morning, boys. Shane can show you where extra blankets are if you need anything, Ilya."

"Goodnight Hollanders, will see you in morning."

"Goodnight mom and dad, thank you again."

Shane poured a small bucket of water on the logs, shut the flue and closed the fireplace grate. He walked around and unplugged all of the Christmas lights until Rozanov asked him to keep some on. They chose the lights over the windows in the family room for a warm glow down the hall to the bedrooms. They brushed their teeth together and Shane said goodnight.

Shane stared at the ceiling in his bedroom, wondering how this all happened. He couldn't be gay, right? He looked over at Scott Hunter, laughed, and shook his head. He turned to stare at the ceiling again when he heard a knock.

"Yes Rozanov, come in."

"Hollander, I cannot sleep. Is too lonely. Keep me company?"

Shane pulled the covers back and laughed as the large Russian climbed in, pretending to be afraid of the dark.

"I like fake dating you. Is easy, your family is wonderful, and you do not get mad at time spent with hockey. Your handsome face, beautiful freckles and strong body do not hurt."

"Rozanov, we don't have to fake date. My parents know it was to protect me from mom hiring a matchmaker and that we aren't actually together."

Ilya rolled over and placed his hand in the center of Shane's chest. He nuzzled into the crook of his neck and breathed in the smells of cinnamon, butter, leather, spice and man.

Shane ran his fingertips over Rozanov's thick, calloused fingers, tracing the veins in the back of his hand, and up his steel cable forearms, watching the muscles tense. Shane turned to nuzzle into the golden thicket of curls and breathed in peppery citrus and juniper. He could barely smell the smoke of a cigarette, likely last smoked in Boston.

Ilya debated looking up and kissing Shane, but he doubted he would be able to stop once he began. Knowing David and Yuna were down the hall, he snuggled in closer, wrapped his arm around Shane's waist, and fell into the best sleep he'd had in years.

________

The next morning, Shane woke before his alarm to what he could swear was the sound of the door quietly closing and footsteps walking away. He was hotter than normal, which he could attribute to the large Russian man wrapped around him.

"Rozanov, good morning," Shane yawned. "I need to get up. Do you want to run with me in the garage before breakfast?"

"Good morning," Ilya yawned back, eyes still mostly closed, "is too early, is sun up?"

________

After their run in the garage, they came in, showered, and joined David and Yuna at the dining room table. Yuna checked with Shane, "sweetie, do you want a spinach, egg white, grilled chicken, and Parmesan omelette, with a side of berries and mug of green tea?"

Shane nodded, and she turned, "Ilya, would you like an omelette? Eggs and bacon? Apple pancakes?"

"Eggs, bacon, and pancakes, please. Our apples from Thanksgiving?" he asked.

"Yup!" Yuna confirmed.

Ilya smiled that they had memories together, "can I help?"

"Sit here and entertain the boys while I fix everything," Yuna directed Ilya. "Would you prefer coffee or green tea?"

"Coffee," Ilya answered

"Would you like to try the crossword from the local paper today? It's Christmas themed." David handed Ilya the paper, folded open to the crossword puzzle, and a pencil. They worked quietly for a few minutes, with the sound of Yuna's Christmas carols filtering in from the kitchen.

"Fifteen letter word for 'All I want for Christmas is'? You, word is you. Is three letters. Why waste twelve spaces?"

"Rozanov," Shane chuckled then counted on his fingers, "it's not 'you,' it's 'my two front teeth.' It's a song."

"My two front teeth? Why ask for teeth for Christmas? What kind of song is this?"

A laugh lilted in from the kitchen as they heard Yuna turn up her quiet carols, and then the high-pitched, scratchy sound of someone singing to a guy named Dave, "All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth, my two front teeth, oh my two front teeth."

"Teeth, for Christmas!" Ilya muttered, as he scratched the lyrics onto the paper.

Over breakfast, Yuna reminded the boys they were on their own for dinner. "Don't forget boys, we're going to have a Japanese Christmas eve tonight. Your dad and I are having a date night at Il Forno, and we'll be back around ten or eleven. Will you be okay cooking for yourselves or ordering a pizza?"

"I'm a full grown adult, mom."

Ilya stifled a giggle, "Yes, mama Yuna, we will make. Have fun tonight!" He waggled his eyebrows at David.

After breakfast, Shane grabbed tape, scissors, and two rolls of wrapping paper. The boys retreated to his bedroom to wrap the presents they had shipped to the house. Shane turned on his old clock radio, and spun the dial through high pitched sounds and static until he got to the Christmas music station.

"Everywhere you go. Take a look in the five and ten, glistening once again."

"What is five and ten? Why are numbers glistening?" Ilya bumped Shane's shoulder.

"I have no clue, but it doesn't sound good," Shane laughed and bumped back. He secretly congratulated himself for not explaining that it was like a general store covered in snow.

The two settled into an easy rhythm, Shane was better at judging the correct size of the paper, but Ilya was surprisingly more precise with his folds and creases. Ilya breathed in Shane's quiet scent, and Shane stayed close to Ilya's magnetic warmth.

"Tape."

"Scissors."

"Help, am stuck," Ilya said, with tape wrapped around his right hand where it wouldn't rip on the dispenser. Shane reached over and ran his fingers across the back of Ilya's hand, gently pulling the tape loose. After Shane balled up the tangled tape, he smoothed the offended skin, feeling for any leftover stickiness and and to alleviate any irritation.

This was such a strange weekend, but Shane was enjoying it. Thanksgiving had been great, and he learned that Rozanov was pretty funny and very sweet to his family. They couldn't be actual friends, could they? He loved the feeling of Ilya's hands. Nobody else had calluses like they did, and it was nice to see someone else as powerful and muscular as Shane. He ran his fingers over the back of Ilya's hand again. It was Scotch tape, of course nothing hurt, except maybe ripping out a hair, but Shane was grateful for the excuse to touch him.

Ilya tangled their fingers together, squeezing, and stared into Shane's eyes. They leaned toward each other, gazes fixed, breathing shallow.

"All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth, my two front teeth, yeah my two front teeth…" belted from the radio. Ilya laughed and cussed, pulling away.

"Right, um, do you need another piece of tape?" Shane asked, looking at the floor. "Tonight we'll be on our own for dinner, remember? Do you, ah, want to order a pizza? Or I can make a salad and bake chicken. Or we can get lasagna from Giovanni's."

"Lasagna. Get lasagna. Can make salad."

________

That evening, Yuna stepped out from her bedroom, wrapped in a red velvet dress. David followed behind in a blazer and tie combination. "Honey, we're about to head out, do you need anything before we go?"

Ilya let out a low, quiet whistle, "Mama Yuna, you look perfect. David is lucky man."

"Gross. No, not my mom." Shane looked at his parents, "Have fun tonight."

Yuna kissed each boy on the cheek, slipped into an overcoat, and linked her arm into David's as they walk toward the garage.

"See you later, boys," David beamed, clearly in love.

"They will have fun, and I will have you alone few hours. Win win."

After an unreasonable amount of lasagna (for Ilya), Shane asked, "Would you like to go for a walk and look at Christmas lights? There are some pretty cool displays nearby."

"With you, I walk anywhere."

"Here, wear my dad's parka, I don't want you to get cold. That leather jacket isn't enough for nighttime in Ottawa."

"Am Russian. Russians do not get cold."

"I am Canadian and I do, so please wear the parka. For me."

Ilya shrugged on the puffy parka, zipped it up, and felt soft gloves in the pockets. As they stepped onto the front stoop, he refused to thank Shane for insisting.

They headed left out of the driveway, opposite of the direction Ilya had traveled so far. The houses sparkled wrapped tiny white lights and big colorful lights, with snow reflecting the shimmers.

"Puffy Santa! Hi Santa!" Ilya waved and Shane smiled at Ilya and the blow mold.

"Hollander, look! Christmas tree on front porch!" Ilya pointed to the next house, amazed by the eight foot tree covered in twinkly lights and little ribbons.

"Oh this is new. What is it?" Shane cleared the snow from the little house on a post, "It is a little library for dogs. Tennis balls inside the house, and sticks."

"Stick library. Take a stick or leave a stick," Ilya read the hand-painted sign lit by oversized multicolored bulbs. "I will have one someday for my dogs and to share with others," he added, giddily.

"There it is!" Shane pointed at the entrance of the small park at the back of the neighborhood.

"Wow! Beautiful!" Ilya stopped to take in tiny white lights twinkling in the snow, guiding them down a path to several trees, each branch wrapped tightly in warm white lights. There was a large pergola in the center, covered in even more Christmas lights. This must be heaven, Ilya thought.

Shane grabbed his hand and pulled him down the path to the center of the pergola, facing him. Ilya slowly spun, mouth open, at the trees covered in tiny white lights glowing in the snow. He looked at Shane, grabbed his jaw, and marveled at his beautiful freckles. "Can I kiss you?"

Shane nodded, and Ilya bent to kiss him gently, noting the cold of his nose and warmth of his lips. Shane reached into his parka, lightly running his palms around Ilya's middle, and hugged him tightly. Ilya's tongue glided across Shane's lower lip before he pressed it into Shane's mouth, wrapping his arms around him.

Shane couldn't believe they were doing this. Nobody was here to see the fake kiss. But he definitely enjoyed it. He dragged his tongue across Ilya's, and that might have been the hottest thing he'd ever felt. Shane caught Ilya's lower lip between his own and nipped. They explored each other's mouths and lips until they were shivering from the cold, not the anticipation.

"Let's get you back home and warmed up," Shane said, reluctant to let go. Ilya grabbed his hand as they walked back.

 As they walked back home, Ilya asked, "Do your parents always go out on Christmas eve? What is Japanese date night?"

"Apparently in Japan, couples go out, almost like Valentine's day. I think mom and dad decided to do it this year to give us time alone. I guess the fake dating is still tricking them."

"Yes, fake." Ilya shivered and snugged the parka tighter, turning back into the front yard. He stood still, taking in the colorful lights, Christmas tree in the front window, and welcoming entryway.

What was it like to grow up in heaven? Did Shane realize how lucky and loved he was? Did Ilya have the guts to imagine a future like this for himself? He shook out his arms, "let's go in and get warm."

Shane stood in the kitchen after making hot chocolate. This is not the time to panic. This will never happen again, but it already started. Just follow Ilya's lead, experience it, and that's it. It doesn't mean you're gay, he thought. He carried two Santa mugs with hot chocolate, one with two marshmallows and one with five, and paused in the entry to soak in Ilya in comfy sweats, next to the fire, staring at the Christmas tree. He knew it wasn't real, and it could never be real, but he thought, take a moment and really look so you can remember this forever.

"I made hot chocolate. Guess which one is yours." Ilya reached for the mug with extra marshmallows.

"Do you want to watch The Santa Clause, where a dad has to become Santa, Home Alone, with a kid defending his home from burglars at Christmas, or Elf, where an elf leaves the North Pole and travels to New York?"

"Burglars. Sounds exciting." Shane put in the Home Alone DVD and snuggled into the far end of the couch with a blanket, while Ilya settled in the middle.

"Is big house."

"Spilled milk on tickets. Ticket is in trash!" Ilya looked over at Shane and tucked his feet under the blanket.

"Don't sleep with Fuller, he wets bed."

"They slept in!"

Ilya inched his feet toward Shane's, touching toes under the blanket.

"Why isn't he on plane? Why leave without him?"

"It's called Home Alone, Ilya."

"They left Kevin?!"

Shane shifted and sat up straight, rearranging the blanket. Ilya leaned his head onto Shane's shoulder.

"Sled down stairs?!" Ilya laughed.

"Is police burglar? What is silver tuna?"

"I honestly don't know what a silver tuna is," Shane answered.

"Kevin is having house party! With Michael Jordan!"

"Keep change filthy animal!" Ilya barked, laughing as the burglar fell over the trash cans.

Ilya snuggled down further, resting his head in Shane's lap. Shane wasn't sure when, but by the time Kevin was in the church, he realized his fingers were tangled in Ilya's curls, lightly scratching his scalp.

Ilya almost fell off the couch laughing when Marv screamed at the tarantula on his face. He snuggled back in and brought his left hand up to Shane's leg, absentmindedly stroking the soft flannel of his pajama pants.

The man with the shovel saved Kevin from certain disaster, Kevin's family came home, and Ilya wiped a tear from his cheek as Kevin waved out the window. Shane leaned down and kissed Ilya's temple. "We should go to bed." He got up and folded the blanket.

Ilya finished brushing his teeth, turned to enter Shane's room, and walked directly into a wall of hot muscle. His breath hitched as he leaned in to Shane, gently brushing his lips with his own. He pulled back, waiting for Shane to continue.

Shane's mouth gently met Ilya's with one hand on Ilya's hip for purchase, and Shane's eyelids fluttered closed. They kissed slowly, noting the differences when their noses weren't cold. Ilya held back, allowing Shane's eagerness to dictate how far they could go.

Shane marveled at Ilya's strong hand on his jaw, and the soft scratch of the stubble on his chin. He breathed in the peppery, woodsy scent of his cologne. Shane increased the intensity of the kiss, licking deeper into Ilya's mouth. He could not keep his hands out of Ilya's hair or off his waist, no matter how much he wanted to skim his hands over more. The kiss must have meant something, because there was nobody here to see them, nobody to trick with fake dating.

Before he knew he was going to, Shane dropped to his knees and nuzzled his face against the soft fabric of Ilya's pajama pants. He reached up and gingerly pushed Ilya's shirt up, licking and kissing the V in his muscles and breathing in the scent of the curls traveling down. Shane kissed down the trail, looping his fingers in Ilya's waistband, pulling his pants down slowly as he kissed.

Ilya sprung free, and Shane marveled at the thick, veiny cock surrounded by a wreath of beautiful caramel hair. The uncut end glistened as Shane studied every detail, before glancing up. Ilya had shucked his shirt, and was staring down at Shane past his large, square pecs, was that an 8 pack?

Shane gently placed the head of Ilya's dick into his mouth, his tongue exploring the velvety skin and spongy head, tracing where it connected to his hard shaft. Shane tasted salty, silky pre-come, then licked down the underside of Ilya's shaft and back up, before sucking more of him into his mouth.

"Fuck, Hollander."

He wished he could suck all of Ilya down his throat and lick his balls with his nose pressed into his pubes. Shane laughed and thought, maybe I really do want to be with men.

"Oh, stop, stop, stop."

Oh shit, did I get him with my teeth? Shane wondered.

"Was that bad?"

"No, opposite. Was too much, too good." Ilya pulled Shane up and kissed him deeply, pausing to catch his breath and notice his blown-out pupils.

"Is your first time with man?"

"Yes, yours?"

"Ah, no."

"Really? Who?" Shane figured Ilya was telling the truth about being bisexual.

"My coach's son in Russia."

"Weren't you worried?"

"No, we had same secret." Ilya kissed Shane again.

Shane felt Ilya's hand press him back toward the bed, where he fell backward into the mattress. Ilya's tongue and lips explored Shane's jawline, neck, then collarbone. Shane pushed Ilya's head to the side and kissed his cheek and neck, taking special time to focus on the hollow behind his square jaw. He kissed down the thick muscle and licked into the dip at the base of his throat, wishing he could leave a mark. He traced Ilya's collarbone with his tongue and lips, before Ilya pulled him back up for another deep kiss.

Ilya kissed down Shane's neck, then chest. He stopped to kiss one hard bud, swirling his tongue around, feeling the skin pebble up, then the other, and trailed his tongue down the center of Shane's abs.

Ilya sat up and smacked Shane on the stomach. "Let me show you how is done, kid."

He pressed one more open-mouthed kiss below Shane's navel, then dragged his tongue down to the base of his shaft. He looked up at Shane, winked, and swallowed half of his cock into his mouth. Ilya started gently, swirling his tongue around the head, tasting Shane's pre-come, and lightly sucking. Smug, he watched Shane's head fall back, and thought, just wait. Ilya slurped the rest of Shane into his mouth, sucking and licking up and down Shane's shaft. His left hand cupped his balls, while his right hand pumped Shane's cock, keeping pace with his mouth.

"Rozanov, I'm gonna…,"

Ilya held firm and sucked harder. Shane tried to push him off for about three seconds before he emptied into Ilya's mouth, and Ilya swallowed every drop with a smile.

Shane grinned, catching his breath, as Ilya crawled up and sat against the headboard. Shane looked over, placed a wet kiss on the crook of his neck, snuggling in for a moment to just enjoy this feeling. He kissed Ilya's neck again and traveled back down. Shane ran his tongue down the center of Ilya's chest, then lower, over his abs.

He stopped to nibble and suck on the V above his hips. When he reached the soft curls below Ilya's belly button, Shane breathed in Ilya's peppery cologne and his natural musk. Is it possible to have an actual addiction to a smell? he wondered. Shane nuzzled the curls until he sucked Ilya's cock into his mouth, experimenting with levels of suction and tongue movement, working the base of his shaft with his hand. He marveled at the way his cock pulled on the roof of his mouth when he wasn't using his hands. Shane realized he was drooling and opened his lips to allow his right hand to capture the wetness, pumping the shaft while he sucked as much as he could into his mouth. He moaned around Ilya, about to bust (yes, again) untouched, driven by the sounds he heard Ilya make.

"So good for me. So eager," Ilya moaned. He knew Shane was going to make him come much more quickly than he expected. That kid was great at everything he did.

All of a sudden, Ilya grabbed his dick, turned away from Shane, and came into a tissue with a grunt. He couldn't remember coming that hard. Shane might have been a novice, but he was well on his way to becoming the best at yet another skill.

Shane crawled to the headboard and sat back, shoulder to shoulder with Ilya, and his mind started reeling. How did this happen? He won't tell anyone will he? When can we do it again? He's not into you. This is fake. He just did this for Thanksgiving. Don't read anything into the fact that he's back for Christmas. He said he's bi, but that doesn't mean that he's into you. Are you even gay? No, you're straight, remember Ja-, Jen-, what was her name? Jessica. That's right.

Tonight was so much better than that. Shane laughed, thinking Ilya could teach Jessica some things.

Ilya refused to experience, what did Marley call it?, post-nut clarity. "Goodnight," Ilya whispered as he rolled over to fall asleep.

________

Shane stirred, hot in bed, but very comfortable under, wait what is this weight? He looked down and saw Ilya's broad back and firm shoulder thrown across his midsection. Shane stared at his Cupid's bow and slightly parted plush lips, then reached up to spin a curl around his left forefinger.

At 5:45, the alarm rang out.

Ilya jumped, then breathed deeply and licked his smiling lips, "Good morning, Hollander. Alarm on Christmas?"

"Good morning, Rozanov," Shane mumbled. "I have to run before breakfast. Join me in the garage?" They had to leave by noon to fly to their teams, so Shane knew he had to cut his run short.

After a 5k run for Shane and 10k bike for Ilya, and showers (separate, sadly), Ilya plopped onto the couch.

"Good morning, sweetie. David bought peppermint, vanilla, and chocolate syrups for coffee so he could make peppermint mochas, would you like any in your coffee?" Yuna asked.

"All three please, with whipped cream."

"David? Did you hear that?"

"I like the way you think, Ilya. One pep moch with whip coming right up!"

Shane quietly walked in to see his family laughing and drinking ridiculous coffees with, was that whipped cream? And sprinkles? He couldn't help but smile and hope he could have this again, for real, some day.

"Oh Shane honey, you're back! Would you like coffee, too?"

________

They sat at the dining room table, where Yuna and David had piled French toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, and … why were there oranges?

"So you don't have to worry about carrying them from your stocking onto the plane," David explained before anyone could ask.

Shane added a respectable amount of eggs, one piece of French toast, one slice of bacon, and an orange onto his plate. Ilya ate like Ilya did, adding whipped cream to the French toast and making another round of peppermint mochas for him and David.

"All right boys, I hate to rush you, but I know we're on a schedule. Time for presents!" Yuna exclaimed.

"Don't worry, I'll clean up the table for your mom while you pack up," David eased their guilt about leaving a mess.

Yuna and David settled onto the couch, with the boys handing out presents. Ilya was so glad he had someone to gift to this year.

"Why does present say 'Ilya'? My gift is Canadian Christmas with the Hollanders."

"We're so glad you're here, son, we wanted you to have something to remember this year so hopefully you'll come back as soon as possible," David answered.

Of course the Hollanders opened presents one at a time, folding the paper and placing it into a bag.

Yuna opened her present from Shane first. "Is this? That cannot be Tiffany blue. Shane!" She opened stunning pearl drop earrings with diamond studs, her eyes watering.

David opened his gift from Shane. "Sirius?"

"It's satellite radio, you can plug the player into your car, into headphones, or these players for at home and the office. You can listen to BBC Newshour and Cost of Living on your commute and sing horribly with mom at home."

"Mama Yuna, this is for you. And Mr. David, this is yours."

"Ilya! This is stunning, and so soft!" Yuna exclaimed as she opened a cashmere Burberry scarf in shades of soft pink. She didn't need to know that he chose that scarf because the color reminded him of Shane's flushed cheeks.

"Ilya, what does this say?" as he opened a box that said Штурманские. Inside was a masculine, unadorned watch of silver with an off-white face and large numbers.

"Is Sturmanskie, made for work and hunting. You can wear to office or mowing lawn without worrying about scratching or damage. I did not think you would want fragile, fancy, designer piece."

"It's perfect," David smiled as he put the watch on with a grin, "Thank you, son."

"Rozanov, I uh got this for you," Shane mumbled as he handed Ilya a large burgundy envelope.

Ilya tore into the envelope and read the certificate in the card, "Chef?"

"It's… He's Russian. He specializes in Russian food in Boston. He'll make you two custom meals per month, so you can work around games and travel home in the summer. I figured you probably missed Russian food," Shane rushed through his explanation, cheeks pink.

Ilya's eyes shone as he nodded his head. "Yes, miss mama's food. Is perfect, thank you, Hollander." He shoved his present into Shane's hands to direct the attention away from him. "Here, for you."

Shane carefully opened the large box to see not one, but two faded blue, soft blankets. He ran his hands over them and read that they were cashmere, made at some company in Italy.

"I know you like soft textures, so there is small blanket to take on road trips and king size to keep at home."

Shane pulled the smaller blanket out and immediately wrapped it around his shoulders, rubbing his fingers on the edge as his mother handed him more boxes. He opened three of his favorite American Eagle hoodies. Thankfully, nobody commented about how the color of the cashmere blankets was almost identical to the soft blue hoodie. The next package contained a portable DVD player.

"For the plane and hotel rooms. It can plug in or work on battery."

The last box was thin and heavy. Shane lifted the lid and saw a silver frame. His face cracked into a grin as he saw an oversized print of the four of them at the pumpkin patch. Ilya's cheeks were bronzed, and all four were grinning from pure joy.

"Here you go sweetie," Yuna handed two packages to Ilya, one large and one small.

He opened the large present and chuckled, "Canada Goose parka? Russians don't get cold, but will look good in Ontario. Thank you Mama Yuna."

"You can wear it on your next visit. And it will keep you warm and remind you of us in Boston."

The smaller box looked slightly heavy, and Ilya was overjoyed to open the same silver frame and photo from the pumpkin patch. He reminded himself that this was not his family, but he could always remember this one perfect holiday season.

________

1:34 p.m.

goodbye hollander

thank mama yuna and mr david again

1:46 p.m.

Goodbye, Rozanov. Have a safe flight to Miami.

Chapter 4

Chapter Summary

How do we get from 2010 to early 2014?

There's an NHL lockout. Shane buys the land for the cottage.

Shane heads to Mexico for the first time. Ilya has to go to Russia.

Their first time!!

Chapter Notes

There was no All Star Game in 2010 because of the Olympics in Vancouver, but in Rachel we trust, so there's an All Star Game … at the Olympics? Go with it.

Tiny TW - Shane has a non-Ilya hookup.

January 7, 2010

6:27 p.m.

should I come over after game tomorrow?

6:31 p.m.

We can't, my parents will be here.

They're staying the night.

6:42 p.m.

tell them I said hello

January 8, 2010

10:14 p.m.

tell them I should be favorite son

keep winning everything

10:27 p.m.

Fuck. Off.

Shane wished he could have Ilya over after the game. What would it be like, to put all this frustrated energy into the hottest man he'd ever seen? Would he drop to his knees as soon as Rozanov walked through the door? Would they cuddle again? Could they watch a movie together?

What are you doing? You're straight. Ok, maybe you're not straight, but he's not into you. This isn't real, Shane reminded himself.

February 2010 - All Star Game - Vancouver

Shane hated that Ilya was on the other team, just across the plexiglass from him. Don't stare, don't stare. Watch the game. Just watch the game and enjoy the honor of being selected as an All Star. Definitely don't notice that Rozanov is climbing over the boards and skating past you, don't stare, don't stare.

He whispered, "1221," entirely too loudly at Shane as he skated by. Thank God Scott Hunter was so old he couldn't have heard it.

"He's kind of an asshole, right?" Hunter asked, jutting his chin up at Rozanov.

"Who Rozanov? Yeah, he's an asshole."

"He's in the room right next door to me. I expected it to be loud and full of women, but it's been quiet all weekend."

Shane smiled to himself knowing that Rozanov probably didn't bring anyone else to his room before inviting him.

________

Shane was in his hotel room, trying to figure out what to wear. Obviously not a suit, he wasn't that much of a dweeb. Should he go with joggers? A button up? It can't be obvious that he's going for a hookup, because people will see and recognize him in the elevator. What will Rozanov be wearing? He hoped it was a black tank top … wait, why was the phone ringing?

"Hey mom, how are you and dad? How is San Francisco?"

"We're having so much fun, and we're trying to catch as much of the All Stars highlights as we can. I can't believe the timing!"

"Did you get to go to the Golden Gate Bridge yet? Was it cloudy?"

"We did, and we went to Alcatraz! Do you know that it means 'pelican'?"

"Uh."

"Sweetie, have you had time to see Ilya? Tell him we miss him!"

"Only on the ice. He's been with his team."

"We were hoping you could spend more time together during the break, you've gotten so close!" Yuna practically cheered.

"We barely know each other, but it is nice to know he's not just an asshole."

"Sha—"

"Mom, I have to go. I'm meeting up with some of the guys tonight. Have fun, I love you!"

Click.

Athletic wear will have to do, he thought as he pulled on joggers, hoodie, and a t-shirt, then slipped out the door.

________

Hurry up, asshole. I cannot be seen at this door. Why hasn't he answered? Nobody can know about this. Hockey players cannot be gay, Shane thought to himself in the hallway.

"Scott Hunter is right next door!" Shane fussed, pushing Ilya out of the way.

"Hollander—" Ilya couldn't finish his thought, because Shane leapt onto him, kissing him deeply. Ilya wrapped his arms around him and backed to the wall, noticing the soft blue hoodie from Christmas. They pulled back a moment, Ilya staring at Shane's lips, so close he could feel his breath. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think,

Shane apparently hadn't put on his leather and spice cologne, so all Ilya could smell was his minty citrus shampoo and his warm natural musk. He admonished himself for feeling, well, all of these feelings. This wasn't possible. It wasn't ok in Russia, and it wasn't ok in the NHL. They had to hide from Hunter in the next room. Ilya needed to refocus on the moment.

"On your knees," Ilya tried out some dominance. Hollander dropped so fast that Ilya whispered "wow," full of wonder. He watched Hollander rub his face on his pants and start to unbuckle his jeans. He needed to try that again in the future, because Hollander clearly loved it.

Shane sucked Ilya down, obviously practicing the technique he learned from him at Christmas. The hot, wet slide of Shane's mouth down Ilya's cock made him arch his back and moan "Shit—" before he lost the ability to form words.

Ilya reveled as Shane's tongue swirled his cock head and was truly impressed how much deeper Shane could take him. His thighs were trembling, and he wanted nothing more than to grab his hair and let Shane go to work. They had to stop though, so Ilya could fuck him tonight. He pulled Shane up from kneeling and picked him up, feeling the large, solid thighs wrapped around his waist, the weight on his hips, the heat at his chest.

He shuffled, trying not to laugh at carrying a professional athlete with his jeans around his ankles. What would the NHL think of that injury report? And at the All-Star Game, of all places.

Small steps, small steps, careful, careful, Ilya repeated to himself until his knees hit the bed. Oh thank God, we're here. Shane's thighs wrapped around his waist, his thick arms around his neck, and the kisses he kept peppering on Ilya's cheeks and neck were so intoxicating, he almost hated to drop him.

"Do you ever touch yourself here?" Ilya asked, gently circling the prettiest, pinkest rim.

"Fuck off." And then, "I have a thing. A dildo."

"What. Color? Is big?"

Shane dropped his head, focusing on Ilya's wicked finger.

"I want to fuck you."

Why is Rozanov practically whining? Shane wondered.

"Scott Hunter is right next door. He might not have heard you tell me your room number, but he'd definitely hear that. You know nobody can know. I'm not saying no, I'm saying not here."

Ilya smiled inwardly at the promise of another chance with Shane in the future. Maybe many, if he played his cards right.

Ilya kept teasing Shane's entrance, then flipped him on his back to kiss his thighs, starting with the v above his left knee. He kissed the contours of the muscles all the way up to the crease of Shane's hip, making sure to breathe out as his face crossed Shane's dick, back to the other leg. Ilya licked Shane's inner thigh, placing a few wet kisses along the way, as he trailed back up to his tight balls.

Ilya stopped to take a deep breath of Shane's minty soap and natural musk before taking one of his balls into his mouth. He moved his tongue below it, and hummed a couple of bars of "Oh Canada" before switching to the other. He barely missed getting kicked when Shane's left leg twitched at the humming. Ilya chuckled as he licked the other ball into his mouth.

Shane was leaking onto his stomach from the torture, and eventually whined, beckoning Ilya to his dick. Ilya licked up the shaft from Shane's balls, tasting the salty pre-come, swirled his tongue around the head, and guzzled Shane down. He settled into a rhythm, and Shane groaned, "Rozanov, Rozanov, I'm gonna…" while pushing Ilya's head. Ilya gripped Shane's hips, likely leaving bruises, to hang on and swallow every last drop of his reward. He sat back and watched Shane's dick twitch as he swirled the pre-come into Shane's abs.

Shane immediately flipped Ilya on his back to finish what he started, which he did, well. He took a moment to taste Ilya's slightly bitter seed, rolling it around on his tongue, noticing its silky feeling. Once he was done experiencing it, Shane was excited to swallow this time.

"Let me get you washcloth," Ilya states as he's climbing out of the bed to the bathroom. He wiped Shane's stomach and thighs slowly, watching his muscles contract at every touch. "Now you are clean."

"I should go, shouldn't I?" Shane asked, almost begging Ilya to tell him to stay.

"Yes, early flight to Edmonton."

"I'm headed back to Montreal, we play Carolina next," Shane explained as he began to dress. He couldn't believe they did this again. They had to stop. This had to be the last time. Maybe he'd join a dating app and find a girlfriend in Montreal. Just not the frickin matchmaker.

"Safe flight, Hollander."

"Goodnight, Rozanov. Safe trip, and uh, see you around."

March 8, 2011

Shane woke up from his pre-game nap and padded into the kitchen to eat the chicken, brown rice, and vegetable medley recommended by the team nutritionist. It was surprisingly tasty with the roasted garlic vinaigrette. He looked down as his phone vibrated and smiled when he saw the message was from Lily.

2:56 p.m.

will I see you tonight?

4:16 p.m.

I can't. My parents are here to watch the game.

I promised them they'd get to meet Hayden's new wife, Jackie.

4:17 p.m.

ah, tell them we are sorry for ruining meeting with loss

4:18 p.m.

You're such an asshole.

Shane shoveled another two bites in before his phone rang. This time, it was Mom.

"Hi mom, are you on the way?"

"Hi sweetie, we'll be there by 5:45, and we'll stay the night of course."

"I'll be at the Bell Center by that point, so just let yourself in and get unpacked. Your tickets are waiting on the dresser, and you have family passes to avoid the lines."

"Thank you, we're excited to see you again tonight! Will we be able to see Ilya? Can he come to dinner tomorrow night? Or something post-game tonight?"

"No, mom, we can't be seen together. Besides, we're not dating. It was fake," Shane answered.

"Okay sweetie, please tell him we missed him," Yuna responds, then pauses to clearly listen to someone else in the car. "What was that? Oh yes, Shane, your dad says to tell Ilya that he's really impressed with his crossword improvement. His English is getting so much better!"

"Okay mom, I'll try to remember. Drive safe, I'll see you soon."

________

Shane looked up as his parents hugged Jackie and Hayden goodbye. He couldn't help but feel the pull in his chest, wishing Ilya was there with them.

10:38 p.m.

My parents said hi. They asked if you could eat with us tomorrow night. I told my mom you'd have to leave with the team.

Dad says your English is improving - he's really impressed with your crosswords.

10:41 p.m.

tell them sorry they saw me board you

10:42 p.m.

You're such an asshole.

Summer 2011 - Ottawa

Over the summer, Shane stayed at his parents' cottage and started looking nearby for a lot of his own. He wanted to make sure it was private enough for forever, but also big enough for a home, guesthouse, and practice facility.

About 10 minutes from his parents' cottage was a lot, 135 acres in total, with lake access off a little inlet, so there were no visible next door neighbors, just a single dock in the distance. The lake access was deep enough, and there was flat land nearby it where he could set up a few chairs and build a lawn. Upland, the house would sit on a rocky formation, with the practice facility tucked further up the driveway. Shane wondered if he could build an underground tunnel between the basement and the facility for when it snowed.

There was space for two or three bunkies with lake views. He would have to check with the contractor about running water and septic to them. The lot didn't have a well, yet, but Shane knew the water would be great here, so he planned on getting that dug as soon as possible.

As he walked around, visualizing a large, modern glass and wood house, he couldn't help but wonder what Ilya would want.

Would he want a big dock and boat house for speed boats like his fast cars? Would he want a fancy outdoor kitchen or just a nice gas grill? A big yard for playing? Would he rather play with dogs or kids or both?

Shane realized where his thoughts were taking him. He had to stop. They weren't dating. He wasn't gay. Even if he were, he can't be gay in the NHL, so he can't be. Ilya didn't like him like that.

Shane decided to buy the property and immediately start planning the build. There was no time like the present.

October 1, 2011

3:23 p.m.

jane

will you see mama yuna and david for thanksgiving?

3:26 p.m.

Hi, Lily.

How are you doing? How was your summer?

I will get to see them this year, Thanksgiving is on Oct. 11.

Will you be playing?

3:27 p.m.

home against Colorado day before

in Carolina day after

tell them I said happy thanksgiving

3:28 p.m.

I will.

Good luck in your games.

Thanksgiving that year was like it normally was. Shane and his parents, Baaba, some various aunts, uncles, cousins, and neighbors stopped by for turkey and stuffing and pie. Shane chuckled to himself picturing Ilya shoveling more and more stuffing covered in gravy into his mouth. That little shimmy he did unconsciously might have been the best part of the holiday last year. Well, the shimmy, the kisses, and the pumpkin patch, and the few moments where it felt real.

________

While Shane was in Ottawa refusing to miss Ilya, he was in Boston with Svetlana trying not to think about Shane. She was the daughter of Raiders goalie Sergei Vetrov, and she knew more about hockey than Ilya would ever learn. Plus, she was a good fuck. It was good to have someone he had known since childhood, someone who could speak Russian, and who pretended she didn't see the way he watched Hollander's interviews and play.

Ilya realized that, since he didn't see Shane for Canadian Thanksgiving, there was no way he could pretend his way into the family for Christmas. He wished the Raiders didn't have a four-day break over the holiday. A nice Christmas day game would be just the right distraction.

January 1, 2012 - midnight

Ilya couldn't believe they lost 4 to 2 against Dallas, of all teams. Especially on New Years Eve. His phone dinged, probably his brother asking for money.

12:00:01 a.m.

Happy New Year, Rozanov.

This is your big holiday in Russia, right?

Ilya threw the phone on his mattress, unable to respond. "Shane Hollander. Perfect player, perfect family, perfect holiday," he muttered, angrily.

Ilya knew he wasn't pissed at Hollander, but at his situation. Hell, he realized he loved playing against him more than any other player in the NHL. Finally someone was good enough to challenge him.

He loved that Hollander never took the bait on the ice, and he loved that he fell to his knees for him off the ice. But for fuck's sake, couldn't Ilya catch a break sometimes? Why did Hollander have to share his perfect Canadian politeness and show how eager and kind he was on that night of all nights?

Fuck, he wished he could call him right then and tell him all the things he loved about him. Or hell, fly to whatever city the Metros were in just to kiss every inch of his skin, to crawl inside of him, and to take him apart. But no, he was stuck here in stupid fucking Dallas, not celebrating, and nursing his wounds after a stupid fucking loss.

April 2012

Boston made it to the playoffs, but Montreal did not. Shane busied himself with Hayden and Jackie and the twins. He never knew so much disgusting stuff could come out of one tiny baby, and they had two! He had gotten used to not checking the Lily text thread more than once per week. Rozanov hadn't responded, and he wasn't going to.

Besides, that gave Shane more time at his parents' cottage to check on the build down the street. He was amazed that the exterior of his cottage was fully built, and they were starting on the interior, the three bunkies, and the practice facility. There were three bedrooms and three bathrooms in the cottage, and each bunkie was a small modern style shotgun house with a front porch that he might screen in eventually. They each had two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small sitting area and kitchenette.

If he had teammates up during the summer, they wouldn't have to stay in his cottage, they could have their own bunkie. They would just grill, eat, and hang out by the fire pit together. Hayden and Jackie would probably need at least two bunkies by the time they stopped having kids.

At first, Shane was going to get a big, white industrial building for the practice facility, but the architect encouraged him to build a large building with black and wood-tone composite siding to match the cottage and a huge picture window that overlooked a garden they would fill with evergreens and easy care bushes. In the winter, Shane would be able to see through most of the trees to the lake. Inside, he made sure there was a regulation sized faux hockey rink, complete with boards, plexi, and a scoreboard, and space for a gym with two treadmills, two bikes, two row ergs, two ski ergs, two Smith Machines, and two wall racks of weights. Even if Ilya never came to visit, there would always be a second machine for someone else to use. Above the gym was a small loft with space for indoor yoga and mindfulness. It would have an even better view of the lake in winter.

September 16, 2012 - Montreal

Shane should be gearing up for his first preseason game. Instead, the NHL Commissioner, who Shane would never call a jerk (out loud), locked the players out because they could not agree to a new collective bargaining agreement. A couple of his teammates expressed worry about their Canadian visas in the team group chat.

Dammit, Shane thought as he opened his phone where it hadn't changed since New Years.

January 1, 2012 - 12:00:01 a.m.

Happy New Year, Rozanov.

This is your big holiday in Russia, right?

Ilya hadn't contacted him in nine months. It was over. Stop, he reminded himself over and over. But Shane couldn't help but type. He worried about Ilya's safety and was curious about how he was spending this boring break.

September 16, 2012 

2:03 p.m.

Do you have to go home because of the lockout?

Are you in Russia?

Ilya couldn't believe that Hollander would text him again after he ghosted him for that long. God that was a shitty New Year's Eve. He wondered all the time what he was doing during the lockout. Was Hollander at his parent's house? Was he skating at some municipal rink where he learned to skate as a little kid? Did he still have a tan from summer? How short were his swim trunks?

You have to respond before you can fuck him. Stop getting distracted, Ilya thought.

2:04 p.m.

hello sweet jane

am in boston for now

should not be issue if lockout ends before january

may go home to be with family anyway

2:05 p.m.

Let me know if there is anything I can do.

Please tell me if you have to go to Russia.

2:07 p.m.

ok

Of course Ilya thought about Shane every day, no matter where he was or who he was with. He compared everyone's eyes and flushed cheeks and pretty moans to Hollander's, but also his earnestness and his honesty. And there was no question, nobody matched what Shane gave to Ilya so freely. But Russia and the NHL dictated that they could not be together, so he would steal what he could in secret.

October 8, 2012 - Ottawa

The lockout wasn't over at Thanksgiving. Shane was trying to skate with his teammates and keep up mid-season fitness, but it was getting harder. He would join the Spengler Cup team after the holiday. They would train together in Switzerland to play for Team Canada.

"Shane sweetie, what time is it in Russia?" Yuna asked.

Shane looked up without thinking and said, "Seven hours ahead, why?"

"Since it's not quite 10:00 there, why don't you see if you can Skype Ilya? He can talk to us while our meal settles before we eat some pie."

"Uh, I don't know, mom. I'll text him."

It was a Monday night, Ilya was probably playing in a KHL game, but he texted nonetheless.

The next thing he knew, Shane heard the deep voice and thicker-than-usual Russian accent that haunted his dreams.

"Mama Yuna! David! Hollander! Is Thanksgiving today?"

"Hi Ilya, it is Thanksgiving! We missed you. I made too much stuffing last year without you here. We wish you were here today!"

Shane's parents asked Ilya about Moscow, the weather, the KHL, his coach and teammates. They expertly avoided the issue of Ilya's family and whether he was happy in Russia.

Ilya prattled on about pelmeni and blini with fruit, buckwheat kasha (Ilya preferred sweet, but the savory with mushrooms was very good on a cold day), chebureki which were pastries filled with meat and vegetables, and of course tea with jam, and vodka. He told the Hollanders that he was sharing an apartment with two other Russian players, because his father's house was too far from the practice rink.

Shane sat behind his parents, smiling quietly. The joy on Ilya's face warmed Shane more than any cozy meal. He wrapped the cashmere throw around his shoulders and waited to get to say, "hello Rozanov."

After the Skype call with the Hollanders, Ilya looked around the luxury apartment he shared with the other Russian players. They were all at a bar, but Ilya didn't want to go. Now he knew why. He allowed the tears to fall for a few seconds, then shook his head.  

June 2013

Shane headed down to Cozumel alone. He told his parents he was going with J.J., but he knew better. Shane also knew better than to go somewhere like Puerto Vallarta during Pride month.

The resort was large and luxurious, mostly shades of white and cream. The ceiling of the lobby had wood slats running down the ocean-view side of a peaked roof, providing both light and shade. Yes, this would suit Shane just fine.

The second night, after a day at the pool, Shane chose a table in the corner of the hotel bar so that he could feel obscured from the rest of the guests. He saw an attractive enough man alone at the bar, he was probably 5'10" with closely shaved hair, dyed bright blonde. The man approached, he looked to be in his early 30s, Shane thought he said his name was Robert before they agreed to go back to Robert's room and share blow jobs.

Shane sank to his knees even though Robert didn't tell him to do so. He tried to nuzzle his crotch, but he had sprayed cologne in his underwear. Shane pulled back so he wouldn't sneeze.

He finished his job, and Robert didn't compliment him once. He never told Shane how good he was, or how beautiful, or talk about his pretty freckles. Robert returned the favor, but it was just that, a favor. They did not relish one another, there was no worship, care, or even much time given to the act.

Shane walked back to his room, admonishing himself for the thought, but he knew there was no comparison between what's-his-name and Rozanov.

October 1, 2013

7:49 p.m.

I can't believe we don't play until December.

Such a weird schedule.

8:03 p.m.

ur gonna miss me

8:04 p.m.

You're going to miss me!

Are you able to come for Thanksgiving?

It's October 14.

8:07 p.m.

can't

Detroit at home that day

8:09 p.m.

Right.

That sucks.

We'll miss having you.

January 1, 2014

12:00:01 a.m.

Happy New Year, Lily

I hope you're having fun tonight somewhere in Boston

12:02 a.m.

my jane

we lost

am sad and not at party

12:05 a.m.

We lost, too. In overtime.

I'm about to get on the plane. Stay safe tonight.

Will I see you at the end of the month?

I got a new condo.

January 30, 2014 - Montreal

"You will murder me?" Ilya asks as he stood in the alley behind Shane's second apartment.

Ilya didn't need to know that he bought the entire building, re-insulated between floors, rented out the ground floor to a store that closed early, and fully designed and decorated the third floor just for them. Ilya didn't need to know that Shane protected their privacy that much. Both from prying eyes, but also prying ears.

Shane led Ilya up the stairs. He wanted to grab his hand, but Shane knew that was too intimate, even with their plans.

"Nice view, Hollander."

"So, this is, uh, my place," Shane babbled. "I, I bought the whole building. Downstairs is a kitchen store that closes at 6:00 and the middle floor is empty. I want to buy next door, too. We are completely alone here. We don't have to worry about anyone."

"Ah, you want to be loud with me? Don't worry, we'll make sure the neighbors down the block hear us." Ilya followed Shane to the bedroom and made fun of all the pillows on the bed. Shane had already lit the gas fireplace that was open to the bedroom and the bathroom. Ilya made plans to use that tub next time.

Ilya slid his leather coat down his huge, muscular arms, and let it land in Shane's chair. Shane stood nervously in the corner, with a half a smile on his face. Ilya approached slowly, gently smiling, reminding himself to go slow and soak in what might be their only chance to fuck. He had to make this good for Hollander.

Ilya loved when Shane followed orders, so he stopped in front of the bed and said, "come," and laughed when Shane immediately walked to him. He placed his hands on Shane's waist, over his stupid soft blue hoodie, and pulled him in for a kiss.

It felt like it had been forever since he felt Shane's lips on his own, and Ilya reminded himself to savor every moment of this night. He ran his tongue across Shane's lower lip before sucking it into his mouth gently. "So pretty for me," Ilya whispered.

They opened their lips and deepened the kiss, allowing their tongues to dance slowly. Ilya's favorite sensation was the slick of Shane's tongue against his own, and he almost didn't want to do anything else. As they kissed, Ilya worked his hands under Shane's hoodie and shirt, gently guiding his body by holding his obliques lightly.

Ilya cocked his head to the right and kissed Shane's ear, lightly sucking on his earlobe and flicking it with his tongue.

"Did you miss me?" he breathed onto the sensitive skin, then he trailed his kisses down Shane's neck before pulling off his shirt and hoodie. He paused to allow Shane to fold them neatly before continuing.

Shane was amazed that Ilya remembered he liked to fold his clothes. The feeling of his tongue trailing down his neck almost made him collapse, and his knees felt like jelly. He wasn't sure if Ilya realized he was holding him up by his waist. Shane didn't want to do anything he wasn't supposed to do, so he waited for Ilya to push him back toward the bed, and he willed his legs to hold him.

"Sit," Ilya commanded, quietly, and Shane did just that. He drank in the sight of Ilya in one of his black tank tops under a zip-up hoodie, and then his perfectly distressed designer jeans straining around his hockey thighs.

Shane willed Ilya to turn around before he shucked the jeans, and it was like Ilya could hear his thoughts. He turned to place his clothes on the dresser, then returned to pull off Shane's joggers, and fold them neatly. Shane couldn't imagine a better ass on the planet, and it looked almost as good in jeans as it did without anything on.

Shane slid up toward the headboard, watching with delight as Ilya peeled off the jeans and crawled across the bed to him. They kissed for what seemed like hours, Shane's lips felt swollen, and Ilya's post-game stubble burned just right. Eventually Ilya kissed down Shane's neck to his chest. He took one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking it. Shane arched into the attention and sighed.

"You like?"

"I like," Shane responded in a whisper.

Ilya pulled Shane's boxer briefs down and threw them in the corner. He wasn't going to stop to fold them this time. He kissed from Shane's navel down to the sparse hair surrounding his trophy.

Ilya looked up at Shane and smiled with genuine affection before licking a stripe up the underside of Shane's cock. He tasted Shane's salty pre-come, savoring it for a moment before his tongue swirled around Shane's head. Ilya sucked Shane down, bit by bit, rolling his tongue on the base of his shaft as he dropped, then buried his face in Shane's taught stomach.

Shane lifted his hips gently toward Ilya's mouth, and Ilya grabbed his hips and pressed them back to the bed, reminding Shane who decided the pace for the night. He sucked a bit longer, then pulled of and gently rested Shane's cock against his stomach, where it leaked. Ilya crawled back up to kiss Shane, then asked, "You still want?" and Shane nodded.

"Words please."

"I still want," Shane gently smiled into a kiss.

Ilya worshiped Shane's mouth, neck, and chest again before crawling back down his body. He placed gentle kisses in the crease next to his thighs, licking in wherever he chose. Ilya licked one of Shane's balls, then sucked it into his mouth gently. He released it, then sucked the other in, wrapping his tongue around each. Ilya nosed behind Shane's balls, then lifted his legs into the air.

He gently circled Shane's hole with his index finger before replacing it with his tongue. Shane gasped audibly, making Ilya laugh onto his hole before moving on. Ilya licked from behind Shane's hole up to his balls and back again before tapping his tummy and saying, "Turn over."

He stared at Shane's perfect ass, narrower than his own, but just as strong. He spread his beautiful cheeks and licked onto Shane's naturally hairless hole. Ilya slid his tongue up and down Shane's crack and circled the hole.

Shane was in heaven before Ilya did… that, but once he felt his tongue, he saw stars. He arched and moaned, writhing under Ilya's attention, wishing he could make him feel anywhere near as good as Shane did in that moment.

"Rozan—ahh," Shane kept moaning, unable to even complete his name because he was so intoxicated by the pleasure. He felt Ilya pull his tongue out of his hole, and he almost cried, until he felt him press one spit-slicked finger in its place. Holy shit, that was so much better than any dildo.

It was pure man, but Rozanov was so gentle, licking around the entrance as he probed in. Soon, he added another finger, and instead of pumping in and out, he scissored them back and forth.

Shane felt a deep burn, then relaxed at the motion. Holy fucking shit, what did he just touch? Again! Again! He thought. He tried to voice those feelings, but was just able to get out a loud, shaky moan.

Ilya smiled when he felt, and then heard, Shane's reaction. This was the most fun he'd ever had, he thought, as he prepared a third finger.

Are you fucking kidding me? Is that another finger? That's not going to fi-ahhhh Jesus Christ that's good, Shane thought.

Ilya went back to licking around his entrance, scissoring his fingers, and teasing that one spot just enough to make Shane twist his body and shift his hips to make him hit it some more. Ilya kept his fingers inside Shane, then kissed up his back to his neck, then his ear.

Ilya was on knife's edge already, and his dick was still leaking inside his boxer briefs.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Shane thought he said "uh huh," but he knew he nodded. He couldn't imagine it would get better than this.

Ilya very, very slowly removed his fingers, and Shane felt each finger tip pop out. The loss made him want to cry. He rolled onto his back and sat up. "May I?" he asked, pointing at Ilya's crotch.

Ilya reluctantly nodded, allowing Shane just a moment to take off his boxer briefs. Shane smeared the pre-come down his shaft, then pulled back to spread it between his fingers. He leaned in to lick his stomach and his cock, before Ilya couldn't take it any longer.

"Enough," Ilya stuttered, and started repeating to himself the directions from his home to the practice rink to TD Gardens, including every side street he crossed, to keep from coming across the bed.

He rolled on a condom then leaned down to kiss Shane deeply. He sat back and added a generous amount of lube to his dick, then swiped more across Shane's hole. He positioned Shane on his back so he could watch him, both for pleasure and for safety. Ilya positioned his cock head, breathed deeply, and began slowly pressing in.

Oh God, oh Jesus, oh fuck, this is amazing, Shane thought. Please go slowly but also please pound into me. It was the greatest feeling on the planet. Nothing felt better and nothing was more right than Ilya inside of him.

Ilya was staring at his face when Shane grabbed his hair and pulled him into a messy kiss, tangling their tongues together. Shane bit Ilya's lower lip when he began pushing in further. Shane moaned loudly and plead, "More?"

Ilya chuckled and sighed as he waited for Shane to adapt to this position before pressing in to the hilt. He couldn't look away from Shane's sex-drunk face, the stars in his eyes, or the constellation across his cheeks.

Ilya wondered if he could kiss each freckle individually. He would if he had enough time. He pressed in until their bodies were completely enmeshed and waited once more before moving. He gently rocked his hips, creating motion without pulling out much, and sucked a mark onto Shane's chest. Mine, he thought, If only for tonight.

Ilya pulled back and began gently thrusting into Shane. "Good?" he asked quietly.

Good? This is the best fucking feeling I've ever felt. I didn't know I was empty until you completed me. I never want you to leave, and now I need you to ruin me, Shane thought.

"Good," he sighed through a smile. They kissed and rocked together until Shane said, "please, more, fuck me harder."

Ilya startled, Shane wanted more? Tonight?

He slowly picked up the pace, then turned Shane onto his stomach. He gripped his hips, trying not to pound too hard, but Shane kept pushing back to meet him. Ilya marveled at the sweat pooling at the base of his spine, and swirled it around with his finger. Then he grabbed Shane's hips hard enough to leave bruises and thrust once deep and fast to test his ability to take it.

"Fuck, just like that, Rozanov!" Shane moaned.

Ever a faithful servant, Ilya was eager to give Shane what he wanted, so he began a punishing pace, slamming his hips into Shane's, feeling their balls smack together.

Shane's moans grew louder, and Ilya laughed and silently thanked him for the additional insulation.

"Fuck, Hollander!" Ilya gasped.

"Yes. That. There. Please." Shane gasped out at the punishing pace. He felt his body shaking, muscles tightening and releasing almost without instruction from his brain.

"Are you ready to come?" Ilya asked after feeling Shane clenching and shifting under him.

"Yes, please, need t'come," Shane moaned a syllable with each thrust.

Ilya pressed his hand between his shoulder blades and picked up his pace just a bit more, angling for Shane's favorite spot with each thrust.

Shane began stuttering and shaking almost immediately, then came with a shout. Ilya pumped until he knew Shane was done and then released into the condom, vibrating with the aftershocks.

He gently reached down and kissed Shane's back where he had pressed a moment before. Shane slowly collapsed onto his stomach and Ilya kissed his shoulders, tasting the salt of his sweat, before slowly removing himself.

Shane thought Ilya removing his fingers was a loss, but he wanted to claw his dick back into him. That was where it was meant to be and where it should stay. He was amazed that Ilya made him come without touching him. He couldn't wait to try it again.

Shane stayed on the bed, grinning and completely satisfied, when he realized Ilya came back with a washcloth to wipe him down.

"Let's get you into shower, will help sore muscles," Ilya said. He guided Shane under the hot stream and they soaped each other up one more time for the night, sharing lazy kisses.

"Must go," Ilya finally said.

Shane reluctantly dressed and followed Ilya to the bottom of the stairs, willing him to stay.

They talked about nothing for a few minutes while they waited for Ilya's ride. Shane begged him to stay in his mind, but said, "I bet your Uber is here by now." 

Ilya reached in and kissed him once, then twice. The way Ilya kissed Shane at the bottom of the stairs was how Shane wanted to be kissed every day for the rest of his life. Sure, hands-free was amazing, but this slow, gentle kiss was the best trick up Ilya's sleeve.

Shane snuggled into one of those faded blue hoodies, gripping Ilya's parka, completely blissed out. Eventually, he held out the parka and smiled as Ilya put it on and hopped into the Uber.

Chapter 5

Chapter Summary

Ilya wins the Cup, then they go to Vegas

What if Ilya texts the wrong J-name?

What if Shane starts to know what he wants? And maybe starts to vocalize it?

We get to go to the cottage! Ilya might not be there yet.

Chapter Notes

There's a little angst in this one. Don't worry - this is a fluffy story! Even the angst is pretty fluffy.

Tiny TW - Shane has his second non-Ilya hookup. Don't worry, it's not good.

Late-February 2014

Ilya had been a dick in Russia.

"Not here, Hollander. We are nothing."

They were nothing, Shane repeated to himself. He texted Ilya after Russia lost to Latvia just to check on him, not to gloat, not to rub it in, just make sure he was doing okay. Later, while watching men's figure skating, Shane saw Ilya at the top of the arena, standing by himself looking sad.

He walked over there, where Hunter and Vaughan could see him, to check on Ilya, and Ilya said, "We are nothing," so that must be it. Everywhere, they were nothing. He made it very clear, they were nothing. It was time to move on and decide if he was gay or if he was just into Ilya.

________

Ilya couldn't stop thinking about Shane on the way home from Russia. He wondered when he started thinking of North America, not Russia, as home. Likely the second he moved out of his father's oppressive apartment to come to Boston.

"Not here, Hollander. We are nothing."

Hopefully that was enough for Shane to understand that they were not nothing in other places, but in Russia, they had to be nothing. He couldn't have Shane show up in his text messages, he couldn't let the surveillance mechanisms see them together, and they definitely, definitely could not be outed. He could not put Shane at risk like that. He doubted Shane knew about the new anti-LGBT propaganda law. Shane could be jailed or deported; Ilya didn't want to think about what they would do to him as a famous Russian athlete.

Shane hadn't seen the man tuck around a corner down that hall behind him as he approached. He didn't realize there were likely listening devices on every pillar in every facility, including the one Ilya was leaning against. Shane was so sweet and so naive because he'd never had to think about his government tracking his every movement and thought. He didn't know they tried to dope him, like he needed performance enhancers. He needed a team that wasn't so afraid, so they could click.

Ilya knew they were tracking his phone. He wiped everything before he came, backed it all up to a different account in the cloud, and brought his old, empty phone to Russia. Ilya knew they would try to break into it if he threw it away in Russia, so he stomped on it and carried the broken phone across the Atlantic. He threw it away in the airport in Boston and bought a new one when he landed. It was always time for an upgrade, and he didn't want anything from that country to follow him home.

June 2014

Shane was at Hayden's house watching Ilya win the Cup. J.J., Miitka, and a bunch of others were with them, watching angrily as the seconds ticked down. When the final buzzer sounded, everyone got up from the couch to get another beer and head to the basement for pool. Shane stayed, watching Ilya raise the Cup over his head with tears streaming down his face. He screamed something in Russian before kissing the Cup and sharing it with his teammates.

Shane stared at the TV as tears welled up in his eyes. He wished Ilya had called or texted more during the season, or at least explained why he was like that in Russia.

Later, in the basement playing pool with his teammates, Shane pulled out his phone.

9:03 p.m.

Congratulations, Lily.

You deserved it.

You looked great lifting that cup.

________

Ilya had chosen not to think about who was missing from his Cup celebrations. He was surrounded by his teammates, Connors, Marleau, and more beautiful women than he could count. He downed another shot of vodka, then looked at his phone.

9:03 p.m.

Congratulations, Lily.

You deserved it.

You looked great lifting that cup.

11:52 p.m.

shwo me ttis

Ilya responded. He wished Shane would send him a topless picture, maybe something from the gym. He wished his Jane could be with him tonight.

Seriously? Rozanov is such an asshole, Shane thought. Of course he fucked other people, he was bi and the hottest player in the NHL. Shit, Shane blew that guy in Mexico, and he barely regretted it. But Rozanov wasn't supposed to text a hookup after winning the Cup, he was supposed to text Jane. Jane was supposed to be the one who mattered, the one who wasn't some stupid puck bunny.

Back in Montreal, Shane shifted uncomfortably and told the guys he had to head home. "Sorry guys, I'm just worn out." Plus the man he fake dated and kept sleeping with just texted him, thinking he was a woman, asking to see his tits.

The next morning, Ilya woke up, excited to see how Shane responded to his multiple texts. He plugged in his phone, waited for it to charge enough to turn back on, and groaned.

Jenn - bad hair

11:58 p.m.

my jne, msis u

want thnaksgvg crsmas fmaly n dgo

plseas

froevr

12:43 a.m.

Ilya, I missed you, too!

Congratulations on the Cup! Let's meet up soon. Call me!

…oh shit. Ilya couldn't believe he texted that to anyone, but especially not Jenn. He immediately blocked Jenn in his phone, deleted the contact and text thread, and rolled over to pass out again.

July 2014

After the Cup, Shane and Ilya ended up at the NHL Awards, both up for MVP. Of course Ilya won it, he led his team to a Stanley Cup. It was the first time they saw each other, or even interacted, after Ilya sent that stupid fucking text asking for some girl's boobs.

Shane was disgusted that he was so crass and of course jealous that Ilya didn't ask for a picture of him. They did a stupid skit on stage and took a really good selfie that Ilya immediately texted him from the stage. Then they announced the award.

Ilya taunted and teased Shane in the bathroom after he stood up for himself, then invited him to his obscene hotel penthouse suite. Sure it was one of the hottest nights of his life, but Ilya used him. He told him to play with himself while Ilya sat in a fucking cuck chair and watched. He looked so powerful in that tux shirt unbuttoned, and a bit maniacal swirling the ice in his vodka, but he was so irresistible that Shane crawled across the fucking bed to rub his face on him. After all the tension, the sex was mind-blowing. The best Shane had ever experienced, but they didn't even kiss. Ilya didn't kiss him once except in that nasty hotel bathroom. It took everything in Shane's power to stay away from Ilya, but he had to do it for his own sanity.

Ilya loved the selfie from Vegas. It was their second candid picture together. He texted it to Shane and kept a copy. He loved that it was the only picture he could have of Shane that didn't have to be kept in a locked folder. It was so freeing - he could set it as his phone wallpaper, and if someone chirped him, he could explain that he loved Shane's boring, awkward face or point out how handsome he looked. Ilya was so grateful he could trap Shane in that bathroom and tell him how important he was.

And the sex. The sex was everything Ilya could ever dream of. Shane happily followed Ilya's every instruction, getting hotter and wetter as he performed for him until Shane crawled to him, and that back arch! Dynasties have been toppled for sights less beautiful than the shape Shane made with his body. He loved those few minutes in bed together after. It was the best night of his life, and he would remember that long after he remembered his MVP.

________

Shane went straight to his cottage after handing out that award in Vegas, and the hotel room after. He refused to think about the fact that they didn't kiss. His cottage was finally ready for him, so he could train, swim, read, and do yoga in peace. He just had to film one of those fluff pieces for ESPN. The photographer and director stayed the night in two of the bunkies so they didn't have to worry about the two hour drive each way. They got up early and took video of Shane doing yoga at dawn in the yard with the lake behind him. When he finally saw the interview, he couldn't believe he let his patella slip past his ankle like that. They toured the home, and Shane talked about his well and the basement, the bunkies, and he showed them the training barn. He made sure to ask them not to film the entrance, the gate, or the first few meters of the driveway. He could never be too safe about privacy.

After two weeks alone, Shane decided to book another trip. He traveled to Cabo San Lucas alone. The resort was similar, and the bathroom had a huge soaker tub. Shane met another man there, Adam, and they had sex. Shane tried to explain that he liked when his partner took control and told him what to do. Adam took that to mean he wanted an aggressive fuck. When it was over, Shane left immediately, thinking simultaneously, at least he'd had sex with someone other than Ilya and he wished he'd had sex with Ilya. At least Ilya knew how to treat him.

________

Ilya knew his dad was sick, much sicker than Alexei let on. But he also knew he wanted to leave Russia as soon as he could. When ESPN called about doing an interview in his garage with all his luxury cars, he knew he could make excuses to leave.

They arrived at his home where his garage was closed. He was grateful that Svetlana sent one of her detail men out to vacuum out any dust from the summer and detail each of the cars. He had chosen a slight variation on his signature look, a tight black tank top, black joggers, and black Adidas Sambas. He hoped he looked casual. The Raiders home office reminded him to leave the cigarettes inside, because even if he was the bad boy of the NHL, he had to be the healthy bad boy.

He walked the film crew and perky interviewer around each car, mimicking MTV Cribs as best he could, highlighting the unnecessarily large engines, low bodies, custom wheels and obnoxious paint colors. He bent over the hood of one, and looked back with a wink, almost forcing ESPN to air his ass for Shane. Ilya made sure to mention Svetlana's car dealership as often as possible.

October 10, 2014

3:26 p.m.

Ilya, sweetie, Thanksgiving is on the 13th, Shane will be in Tampa, but are you free for Thanksgiving? We miss you!

3:31 p.m.

hi mama yuna

will be playing Carolina

wish I could be there

3:34 p.m.

We'll miss you dear. Hopefully we can get the whole gang together again soon!

October 16, 2014

4:51 p.m.

my jane, i miss you

will be too late to see you before

free after?

Was he seriously texting Shane after not kissing him in Vegas and accidentally asking to see some chick's tits? Shane was so mad that he referred to a woman as a chick like some sort of pig. How dare he. Also, Shane was free after, and there was not a game the next day.

4:56 p.m.

Are you serious?

4:57 p.m.

as heart attack

will come as soon as I can

5:01 p.m.

Fuck. Okay.

325 R. Ann

Shane realized it wasn't worth fighting. What's-his-name and that awful Adam confirmed that Ilya was the only man for him. He still needed to make sure there wasn't a woman for him, but Ilya was clearly the only man for him.

He got home around 10:30 after the game and immediately jumped into the shower again. He was not going to let Ilya touch him after just a locker room shower. He cussed at himself for being half hard before the water was warm. Shane washed and soaped, taking extra care everywhere that mattered. He picked up the lube from behind Ilya's soap in his shower, stepped out of the spray, and started to open himself up. He chided his dick for leaking all over the tile, and got two fingers in comfortably before washing once more.

Shane figured Ilya would take longer, the team might want to head to the bar for drinks before he could sneak away. He was surprised to see another text, "omw," about 20 minutes old.

"What the fuck does that mean, Ilya? Now I have to Google your stupid ass acronyms," Shane bitched into the empty room. He heard the knock at his door and stalked over to rip it open, still incredulous at Ilya's audacity.

Ilya couldn't wait for the game to end, so much so he almost didn't care who won. He rushed through a shower at the Bell Center and then took a cab to the hotel to take a decent shower before changing and leaving. Marley knew better than to ask him to go out in Montreal, so he didn't even have to go to the bar and wait for someone to look away long enough that he could sneak out.

He knew it was stupid, but he picked up a bouquet of flowers from a vendor on the street near the hotel. "One of these has to be a lily, right?" he mumbled to himself as he carried them to the cab. Ilya bounced his knee the entire ride. He was so distracted that he didn't notice the driver looking at him at every stoplight because the car was shaking from the concussive force.

Ilya practically sprinted from the car into Shane's building. He was so excited to see that sweet boy in person, even if he didn't send a gym selfie after he won the Cup. Ilya willed the elevator to go faster as it headed to the penthouse. Finally it reached his destination and dumped him out in the foyer. Ilya put his phone on selfie mode to check his hair, then smoothed the brown paper wrapper on the flowers, and knocked. He stood at Shane's door, unable to hide the grin on his face because he was finally, FINALLY going to get to kiss Shane again. When the door flew open, he could see that Shane was angry for a split second until he looked into Ilya's eyes. Shane's face cracked into a megawatt smile.

"These are for you," Ilya thrust the flowers at Shane. "Are lilies."

"There are like eight types of flowers here, Rozanov," Shane sniped with a smirk.

"Eight types of lilies, duh," Ilya laughed.

Shane took the flowers into the kitchen and added them to a glass pitcher. He reminded himself to buy a vase just in case. Is it vase like face or vase like pause? he wondered to himself. Shut the fuck up, dude. He's here. Go suck some dick.

He turned back to Ilya, amazed how his mood completely changed as soon as he saw him.

"Get over here," he beckoned Ilya.

"Now you're telling me what to do?" Ilya asked incredulously. And of course rushed to Shane's side.

"Hey," Shane smiled and bumped his head against Ilya's forehead.

"Hi," Ilya smiled back before he grabbed Shane's chin and gazed into his eyes. He kissed Shane deeply, taking his breath away in the process.

Shane tangled his fingertips into Ilya's and looked back over his shoulder, "Come with me." He smiled as Shane slowly pulled him into his bedroom.

That was the hottest come hither look Ilya had ever seen. He pictured his tongue falling out of his mouth and rolling out so far that he would trip over it like a cartoon character. He would crawl after Shane.

Once in the bedroom, he walked slowly to Shane, trying to look cool and hide how eager he was, then pulled Shane's shirt over his head. He folded it, in three ways so there wouldn't be a crease down the middle, and placed it on the dresser. Ilya dropped to his knees and mouthed Shane's cock through his joggers then smiled.

"No underwear? You were ready for me?" he smirked with a wink.

Shane smiled down at Ilya, knowing he'd find out just how ready he was, soon.

Ilya pulled Shane's joggers down, delighting in the way his dick bounced after being hooked on the waistband. He pulled the pants down over Shane's sock-clad feet, folded them, and placed them on the floor at the end of the bed. I am not getting up and walking across the room to put them on the dresser with that glorious cock in my face, he thought to himself. He grabbed Shane's dick and pulled the tip to his mouth, where he licked the pre-come, treasuring the salty flavor.

Shane wasn't opposed to a blow job, but he needed to get fucked, so he pushed Ilya off his dick and fell back onto the mattress. It worked well in the kitchen, so he tried it again. He called Ilya over with one finger and delighted in the speed with which Ilya stood, shucked his clothes, and hopped onto the bed to kiss Shane again.

"Need you in me," Shane moaned into Ilya's mouth. "Now."

Never one to disappoint Shane intentionally, Ilya flipped him over and left a trail of wet kisses down Shane's spine. He looked down at his broad shoulders, narrower, but still hockey-thick, waist, round cheeks, and solid hockey thighs, and Ilya thanked the universe for another chance at this view. He placed one hand on each cheek and gently pulled them apart before bending down to lick—wait, what is this? Shane opened himself up already? he thought to himself. Ilya spread his fingers and laid a loud, but gentle, smack on Shane's ass.

"You don't do this for me," smack! "Is my hole," smack! "I open it," smack!

Shane writhed under the spanking. He didn't want it all the time, but he really liked the sting. He liked Ilya's possessiveness even more.

"Oh yeah?" Shane teased. "Your hole?"

"Mine," Ilya spanked.

"Why do you like opening it?" Shane asked, enjoying his strange position of power.

Ilya licked over the slightly opened hole and Shane's back arched as he groaned.

"That. Is only way. I can watch. You relax. Love to see you change when I touch you," Ilya explained between licks and kisses.

Shane smiled into the pillow as he relaxed into Ilya's work. He got one thick, callused finger in easily, and Shane marveled at how different they felt.

Ilya added lube and pressed in the second finger; he smiled when he met resistance. Once both were firmly seated, Ilya kissed Shane's inner thighs and scissored his fingers inside of him.

Shane wriggled under Ilya's work. He opened his mouth to remind Ilya not to leave a mark, and a moan escaped his lips instead. He loved the feeling of Ilya's tongue on his inner thigh, and the slight pain of the suction.

Ilya pulled back to add lube to a third finger and saw that he'd accidentally sucked a mark into Shane's right upper thigh. Oops, he thought. I'll have to do it to the left so he matches. Shane hates asymmetry.

Ilya added a third finger, then scissored them, while leaving a mark on Shane's left upper inner thigh.

Shane groaned and arched his back when Ilya switched to his left thigh. He spread his legs wider, giving him access to anything he wanted.

Ilya sat up, rolled on a condom, and added more lube before pressing into Shane. He smiled at how twisted the sheets were already. Ilya pushed gently into Shane's entrance until he was fully seated. He leaned forward and kissed Shane's shoulder blade, then picked up speed.

Shane grabbed the sheets with both hands before fucking back onto Ilya's dick, meeting him thrust for thrust.

"Oh my God, Ilya," he groaned.

Ilya smiled at the sound and picked up the pace, pressing down in the center of Shane's back. Shane grunted in rhythm with the sound of Ilya's hips hitting his ass.

Ilya realized he was getting close, so he pulled out, flipped Shane over, and pulled his ass to the edge of the bed. He slammed back into Shane, watching the blissed out look on his face.

"Fuck, Rozanov," Shane gasped in surprise.

He stood vertical and pumped into Shane until Shane pulled him down so they were chest to chest. Shane dug his nails into Ilya's back, holding on for life at the onslaught.

"Such a needy boy," Ilya cooed at Shane.

Shane moaned loudly as he scratched down Ilya's back. Scratching wasn't enough, he needed to hold onto Ilya even harder. He reached up and bit Ilya's shoulder, moaning from his open mouth.

Ilya loved fucking every version of Shane he got, but this freak Shane might be his favorite.

"Wrap your legs," he ordered. Shane wrapped his legs around Ilya's hips immediately, and Ilya reached behind Shane's back, standing them both up. He loved the slick feeling of their sweaty chests bouncing against one another. His fingers dug in tighter to keep Shane upright against his chest.

Shane screamed onto Ilya's shoulder, then bit down harder, and started sucking. He tightened his grip around Ilya's hips and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, digging his nails back into his back.

Ilya held Shane up and fucked up into him with the help of gravity pressing Shane down on his cock. He held Shane's hips and teased his hole as Ilya put years of hockey training and skater leg strength into fucking up into the large man.

"Fu—ahh… Il—come," Shane moaned out.

Ilya's legs were shaking, and his quads were straining. The sweat running down his back burned the raised scratches Shane left there, adding to his pleasure and pain.

"You ready to come for me?" Ilya teased, almost as breathless as Shane.

"Yes… ungh—Please," Shane gasped.

"Come! Now! Come for me!" Ilya commanded.

Shane grunted and hollered, "Il—Ily… ungh!"

Ilya grinned as Shane painted their chests with his release.

"Fuck!" Ilya shouted as he came, almost collapsing under the power of the release and their weight.

He staggered forward and dropped his knees onto the bed, then leaned Shane back gently. They smiled at each other through heavy, gasping breaths. "You killed me Hollander."

"Fuck that was hot," Shane gasped. "We should definitely do that again," he whispered before pulling Ilya in for a deep, passionate kiss.

Eventually, Ilya gently slipped out, cleaned up, and brought Shane a warm washcloth. He cleaned Shane up and pressed kisses all over his face, neck and chest.

________

They stood in Shane's open plan great room, kissing gently, both wearing soft smiles."We have Colorado here on Saturday," Shane said between kisses.

"Fly to Buffalo next," Ilya complained while kissing Shane's neck. "Thankfully October, or would bring my Canada parka."

They talked and kissed like that for another half hour before Shane reminded Ilya to call a cab.

Ilya loved fucking Shane, and this time was no different. He sat down in the cab and smiled, realizing how tired his legs were.

December 25, 2014

Ilya was alone. Svetlana left an hour ago, because he clearly didn't want to be cheered up. His large, modern home revealed no signs of the holiday, except for a small tabletop tree with battery lights on the counter in the kitchen that she dropped off a couple weeks before. The lights shone across the smooth stone floor.

He knew what he wanted for Christmas, and it wasn't going to happen. He was grateful for his locked folder with Shane's newest ad for Rolex, which he was memorizing (again), when a text came through.

7:03 p.m.

Merry Christmas, Ilya!

Ilya closed the Rolex ad like he'd been caught looking at porn. He ran his fingers through his curls, took a sip of water, and started to type back.

7:04 p.m.

Are you free? We'd like to FaceTime.

Ilya pressed the green square to call Shane and his parents.

"Merry Christmas, Ilya!" Yuna and David sang out. Shane smiled from behind them. The house looked about the same, although the family room had a fresh coat of paint. The tree still had the hockey topper, and the ornaments were still a mishmash. Yuna was wearing Ilya's scarf over a cream sweater, and David was in a blue button up. Shane was in one of his American Eagle hoodies, dark heather grey this time, which made his brown eyes even deeper.

"Merry Christmas, Hollanders. How is your holiday?"

"Oh Ilya, sweetie, we wish you were here! When is your next game?"

"Leave for Columbus tomorrow. Did you have good Christmas?"

"It was wonderful, son, but we miss you. Have you tried the New York Times crossword for today? I'm stumped on 37 across," David commented.

"No, not yet. I should try it on plane though."

"Good game against Nashville, two goals and an assist. I couldn't watch, we were playing New York, but I caught up on the highlights," Shane finally spoke up.

"May try Gordie Howe hat trick in Ohio. For variety," Ilya responded with a wink.

Shane picked up the tablet and turned away from his parents, who quietly left the room. Ilya saw the fireplace behind him; they put up all four stockings again. They smiled at each other quietly for a moment, and Ilya cleared his throat.

"Did you get any good presents?"

"Mom was so excited that you sent the gift certificate for the spa. You really didn't have to do that, but they loved it. Dad said he'd have to work out extra hard to make the massage worth it."

"Yes, they deserve it."

"Hayden asked me in front of my parents last week how I was going to survive two more months before I saw Boston Lily again. My mom almost spit out her drink."

Ilya chuckled in response. "Marley tells me that Montreal girl gets me worked up. He said I blush, but Russians do not blush."

They talked, about life, hockey, Christmas movies, for hours. Ilya made Shane promise to decorate Christmas cookies the next time they were together over the holiday. Eventually, the tablet battery beeped, and Shane had to hang up. His parents had gone to bed an hour ago.

Since when do they talk? Like actually have a conversation and express opinions and emotions? Maybe they could be friends. Like actual, real friends.

June 2015

Ilya was at home, but he should be at work, on his home ice, playing in the Stanley Cup final. Svetlana came over with a bottle of Russian vodka and a few of the guys from her dealership. Most were American with Russian families, so they practiced, and butchered, his native language. Marley, Connors, and some of Ilya's other teammates were there, too, drinking beer and eating wings like sloppy Americans. He handed out extra paper towels for the sauce, cringing at the thought of it on the couch, then cringing at the thought of being such a neat freak. When did that start?

The final buzzer rang, and Hollander and his team threw off their gloves and helmets to surround Mitty and celebrate their win.

"It should have been us!" Marleau cried, while Connors immediately started analyzing Edmonton's weaknesses.

Ilya smiled and texted Shane congratulations. He was shocked when he heard the alert immediately thanking him. Had they even popped the champagne in the dressing rooms yet? Ilya responded:

7:04 p.m.

Mr. Real Estate, Mr. Landlord, and now Mr. Cup Winner (after me)

He smiled at the phone with his necklace in his mouth until Marley punched him in the shoulder. Back to the party.

Summer 2015

Shane's cottage was fully built, the training facility complete. After his first summer there, he added additional ambient lighting, a huge TV that he never turned on, and a sound system that, when it played, mostly played instrumental techno or classical music in the training facility.

His parents came over for dinner twice a week, which was nice. He still wasn't sure if Ilya would want a full, built in outdoor kitchen or just a grill, so he built a stone patio large enough to accommodate an outdoor kitchen, he could move the fire pit to the lower patio, further from the house, and build the kitchen on the upper patio in the future. He made sure the builders left more than enough stone for each in the six-car garage they were building this summer. He could have five visitors park in the garage, there was room for them. It wasn't just because Ilya loved his sports cars. Would he even want sports cars out in the middle of nowhere? The open roads could be fun to drive in some silly convertible, if he maintained a safe speed, Shane thought.

Hayden and Jackie came with the girls and newborn Arthur for two weeks. Arthur was born in February, so he was old enough to be around Shane and his parents, and Jackie was feeling well enough to swim, boat, and play with the girls. They debated whether they should wait until 2016 and decided that the bunkies gave Jackie and the summer nanny plenty of room, while Yuna offered to babysit as much as possible.

Shane stood at the grill, watching Hayden play… well, it wasn't sewer ball, because you couldn't expect two-year-olds to keep the ball in the air, but it was something. He couldn't picture kids just yet, not even a little curly-haired blonde, but he could definitely imagine Ilya playing soccer with a dog or two, wet from the lake. He needed to add a dog washing station to the outdoor shower. Hayden and Jackie would keep it secret. They would be cool if Ilya was there, right? The NHL couldn't know, and definitely not some of the goons on other teams, but Hayden would be ok. He had to be.

He thought back to what's-his-name and the quick blow job, and other what's-his-name and the really aggressive sex. That's not what I want for myself, and maybe it's not even what I deserve, but it's all I can get until my career is over. I can be a confirmed bachelor. Nobody has to know who I sleep with a few times a year. There can always be an NDA. I don't need love, Shane reminded himself.

And then of course the intrusive thoughts came back. Could Ilya ever love him? Could anyone? He was so regimented because he had to be. There was too much noise in his head if he gave himself time to think. No, it was better to always be planning the next exercise, preparing the next meal, reviewing film, memorizing stats. He needed to constantly be building something so that he could ignore his weaknesses. Shane knew he was one of the best hockey players, but he also knew that the only way to stay one of the best was to find every flaw, expose it, and correct it. If he focused on his game, his health, and his real estate, there wasn't room to hate who he was as a person or to think about why he was unlovable.

Shane wasn't sure when he started thinking of Ilya in the future, but he couldn't help but see him at the cottage. He wondered if they'd have a place in a city or suburb somewhere, too. Would he coach? Would Ilya become a commentator? He knew ESPN would love his quips, and his English was already so much better. They had at least 10 more years to play if they could stay healthy, and that would give him much more time for fluency. Shane thought to himself, even if you built this cottage with Ilya in mind, he's never going to come here. Ilya is popular and funny and loved by everyone. He has tons of friends and women who hang off him. He doesn't want to know that you made space for him in your home, and he doesn't need space in your heart.

Chapter 6

Chapter Summary

Hayden knows about Lily

Marley knows about Jane

There's a lot of sex. Then Shane meets Rose. Then he wins the Cup. Again.

Chapter Notes

October 2015

Normally roadies are just another hotel room in another city, but not in Boston. Hayden and Shane sat on their beds, flipping through their phones, like always. Hayden looked over and Shane had that shy smile plastered on his face again. He'd displayed it more recently, and Hayden and J.J. seemed to like that he was happy.

"I know you text some girl named Lily," Hayden explained as Shane attempted to protest. "Don't worry, we all love it. You're more relaxed, and you always play great against Boston. Plus I get some time to myself in this hotel room," he waggled his eyebrows, making Shane grimace to hide the laughter bubbling up in his chest.

"Go get her, buddy!" Hayden called out as Shane hopped out of the hotel room, pulling on his second shoe. He wondered if he even responded to Hayden at all while he was texting Ilya.

________

Shane's Uber dropped him off two houses down from Ilya's. He used the name Justin Smith in the Uber app, just in case. He almost picked something like Jane Tandy, but realized that would have drawn a lot more attention if the driver gave a shit.

As soon as Ilya opened the door, he pulled Shane toward the bedroom. They could talk later, but he needed to put his hands and mouth all over him as soon as possible. Once they bound through the bedroom door, he stopped to stare at his beautiful Shane. Ilya was just a little taller, so Shane's face tilted up at him almost imperceptibly, allowing the sunlight filtering in through the windows dance in the dark pools of his eyes. Ilya leaned in, brushed their noses together, then pressed his lips softly to Shane's.

"Hi," Shane whispered as he pulled back.

"Hi," Ilya smiled back and brushed Shane's cheek with his thumb. His hand shifted to gently grab Shane's jaw and pull him in for a deeper kiss. Their tongues danced until Ilya captured Shane's, sucking gently. Shane moaned into Ilya's mouth, and the vibration went straight to his dick.

Shane sucked Ilya's bottom lip into his mouth, ran his tongue across it, then gently nibbled. He smiled as he felt Ilya's knees buckle slightly before he regained control of his body.

"Fuck, Hollander," Ilya sighed.

Shane laughed and pushed Ilya backwards until he collapsed onto the bed. He climbed on top slowly, swinging his hips and dropping his shoulders with the ease an confidence of a tiger stalking its prey. He pushed Ilya's shirt up enough that he got the message, and Shane nuzzled under his jaw, breathing in his rich cologne before trailing his tongue down Ilya's body. He traced each of Ilya's abdominal muscles, leaving little nibbles and kisses along the path. Shane delighted in those spots that made Ilya flinch and jump. He traced a line to his belly button, where Shane sucked a small mark before kissing the hair that pointed him to his next destination.

He pulled Ilya's pants down over his adorable bubble butt, kneading the firm muscles gently before he let go. Shane sat back onto his heels, knees on either side of Ilya's, trapping his legs, to take in the sight of the best player in the NHL with hooded eyes and a desperate look on his face. Shane couldn't believe how lucky he was to find this man.

He bent down and kissed the tip of Ilya's cock reverently. He wrapped his lips around the tip, sucking just the head into his mouth, then he dropped down further. He hollowed his cheeks and swirled his tongue, enjoying the sensation of Ilya's warmth and scent. Shane licked and sucked Ilya's cock, tracing the veins with his tongue and experimenting with his favorite sensations before focusing on Ilya's. He added his right hand, matching the movement of his head bobbing up and down, then he pulled back and swiped his tongue inside Ilya's foreskin before shifting his weight to his elbows and adding his left hand to Ilya's shaft.

Shane realized he was drooling and opened his lips to allow his hands to capture the wetness, twisting in opposite directions. He enjoyed the schlick, schlick sounds of his hands almost as much as Ilya's moans on the same beat. He rolled his tongue on the head of Ilya's cock with that same rhythm, sucking, then opening his lips to drool down his shaft.

Ilya's breathing was heavier, and his moans were intoxicating. Shane felt himself getting even harder as he ran his tongue under Ilya's foreskin and sucked on the sensitive head. His hips gyrated in the space above Ilya's knees. Shane moaned around him, about to bust untouched, driven by the sounds Ilya made and how good Ilya's cock felt in his mouth.

As if by magic, Shane's moan snapped Ilya out of his trance.

"No, you will not come before me, and you will not come before I fuck you." Ilya commanded, as he pulled Shane off his dick. "I think you will come at least twice when I am inside you."

Shane's eyes rolled back, and a soft groan escaped around Ilya's cock and through his lips, before he crawled up his body to kiss Ilya, glad to relinquish control.

Ilya reached his head up to kiss Shane and wrapped his right arm around his back before turning them over with an elegance he typically only displayed on the ice. He paused, looking down at Shane's pink cheeks and open expression and smiled thinking I am the luckiest man in the world to experience this, before capturing Shane's mouth again.

Ilya nuzzled into Shane's neck, before kissing under his jaw to his Adam's apple, where he sucked for a moment before moving down. Ilya watched Shane's skin pebble under his kisses, and he loved feeling his nipples pucker as he sucked and licked them.

"So good for me," he kissed, "I can tell you've increased your bench press weight," he sucked, "was it so I had more to grab?"

Shane almost explained the importance of a strong pectoral muscle to increase his backhand speed, then Ilya bit his nipple, "Fuck! Yes, all for you. Not my backhand."

Ilya chuckled internally, then growled, "only for me," into the V around Shane's waist. He traced it down to the crease at the top of Shane's thigh, and followed it to his destination. He shoved Shane's legs up, then blew gently on Shane's hole before starting a teasing wide stripe across it.

Shane ground his hips down, chasing more pressure and texture, "ple—please, Ilya," he moaned. He could feel Ilya's smile as he licked into his hole before pressing one, then two slicked up fingers inside. Ilya worshiped Shane's entrance as he scissored his fingers.

"Look at how beautiful you are," he cooed as he added a third finger.

Shane moaned something that sounded similar to "Ungh, yes."

Finally, Ilya pulled out gently and brought Shane's legs to the mattress, making sure to press his knee to the inside of Shane's leg as he twisted to roll on a condom and add more lube.

Ilya aligned himself at Shane's entrance and leaned down to kiss him deeply before pressing in slowly. He bottomed out inside Shane, then tangled their fingers together. It was probably too intimate, but he couldn't help how his heart swelled when they were together.

They locked eyes and Ilya softly smiled as he watched Shane's eyes get glossy. He wondered sometimes what would happen if they just said it. He sighed deeply before trying to tell Shane in his kiss, then he sat up.

"Ready to come hands free?" he asked.

"Fuck me, please," Shane grunted, as his eyes darkened again.

Ilya started slow, but quickly picked up a brutal pace, hitting Shane's prostate with every thrust. Shane quickly came onto his stomach with a shout, then wrapped his legs around Ilya's hips, begging for more.

"That's my good boy," Ilya grunted, marveling at Shane's release pooling between his flexed muscles. He started translating his favorite Dostoyevsky into English to keep from exploding at the sight.

"Can you come twice more for me?" he asked, once he regained his own control.

"Ilya, ungh, no, please," Shane pleaded with each of Ilya's thrusts.

Ilya kept up a punishing pace, watching Shane's face contort from pleasure to good pain to control back to complete abandon.

"I think you can do it," Ilya cooed. Shane's face immediately softened, then contorted back to Ilya's favorite. Shane's eyes rolled back in his head and his mouth sagged open as he struggled to breathe. Ilya grabbed Shane's hips and dug in his thumbnails, leaving two half-moon reminders for later. That mix of pleasure and pain, dull and sharp, was exactly what Shane needed.

"Fuck!" he screamed as his entire body vibrated with a second release.

Ilya slowed for a moment, letting Shane come back to present, then ran his fingers through the mess on Shane's stomach. When Shane could make eye contact again, Ilya winked, then grinned, before sucking some Shane's release off of his thumb, then wiped his grinning lower lip with the back of his hand. Ilya scooped a little more and thrust his fingers into Shane's mouth, pressing his fingers down on his tongue as Shane sucked his own release down.

That was enough to push Shane back into fuck-drunk, and Ilya picked up the pace again, slamming into Shane's prostate, knowing he could make him come a third time without touching him.

Ilya loved watching Shane's useless cock bounce around on his stomach, leaking and twisting as he fucked into him. Shane was designed to take him in and come on his cock, and Ilya was designed to make him come over and over from the inside. This was how they were meant to be. Together.

"Shane?" Ilya asked, meaning are you okay, are you with me, are you conscious, are you ready to come again, and of course those three words.

His eyes popped open again, coming back to the moment. Shane pulled Ilya down for a deep kiss, and came with the prettiest moan Ilya had ever heard. He held out for one more thrust, then filled the condom as he moaned into Shane's mouth.

Shane's legs finally collapsed back onto the bed, and Ilya struggled to stay on all fours above him. He peppered Shane's face with kisses through a big grin.

"I told you you could do it," Ilya praised. "Came three times." He kissed. "Without." A kiss. "Touching."

Shane giggled under Ilya's kisses, grateful for the silly boy inside the hot Russian. They laughed and kissed a bit longer before Ilya scooped Shane up and carried him to the shower. Ilya washed and kissed Shane all over. He knew he couldn't come again today, but it took serious willpower to not try.

Ilya held Shane close to him under the water until they were both wrinkled and pruny. He wrapped him in a soft Turkish cotton robe and kissed his feet as he dried his body. Ilya sat Shane in an oversized, overstuffed leather chair in the corner of his bedroom, and covered him with a grey version of the blue cashmere blanket, while Ilya changed the sheets. He secretly congratulated himself on the number of wet spots they created together.

"Thank you," Shane said, indicating that he was back, as he walked to the bed and climbed in.

Ilya set an alarm so Shane could get back to his hotel room, then wrapped him in his arms. "I'm proud of you," Ilya whispered into his hair. They held each other in the bed, napping for an hour until Ilya's alarm went off. They didn't always hold each other, but they did it in Ottawa, so it must be okay this time.

Shane debated not getting up when Ilya's alarm sounded. He just had an amazing night and wanted to stay under his human weighted blanket forever. Ilya kissed him sleepily, "go to Hayden. Will see you at game," Ilya whispered the promise.

Shane groaned and got up.

"I can't believe I have to fly to Pittsburgh on Thanksgiving," Shane said as he pulled on his sweatpants. "Crosby's parents are going to be pissed to miss it, too," he felt like he had to explain why he hadn't invited Ilya again. Even though Ilya had better things to do on holidays than sit in a suburban home with him and his parents.

Shane shifted in the Uber on the way back to the hotel. He smiled at the thought of Ilya making him come three times without touching his dick. They were amazing together, even if he still felt it hours later. It gave him something to remember during the game tomorrow night and on his flight to Ottawa the next morning.

November 2015

"That Montreal girl really gets you worked up, Roz," Ilya sort of heard Marleau say while he was grinning at a text from Jane.

"Shut your idiot face, Marley."

Shane's parents were hiking Machu Picchu or something, so they didn't come to the game. They both had to fly out quickly for games the next day, but made sure to meet at Shane's condo.

He opened the door and Ilya pushed in. "Hi," he said, as Shane pushed him into the door to close it.

"Hi," Shane said, smiling into Ilya's mouth. He latched his mouth onto Ilya's and slipped his tongue between his soft lips. Ilya sucked Shane's tongue into his mouth, hands still by his sides from the stunning attack. They kissed deeply and Shane tucked his fingers into Ilya's curls. Ilya brought his hands to Shane's chest, each grabbing a pec, before pushing him back until he hit the couch.

"You, down," Ilya commanded.

Shane gasped and sat on the couch. He immediately crab-walked back until he was laying on his back, then reached his arms out, wiggling his fingers, inviting Ilya to climb on top.

Ilya settled onto the couch above Shane, kissing his neck, breathing in his minty citrusy shampoo smell.

Ilya palmed the growing hardness in Shane's pants while kissing him deeply.

"We meet in lobby at five a.m. tomorrow. No reason to sleep," Ilya pulled Shane's dick out of his sweatpants and ran his thumb through the wetness at the tip.

Shane kissed Ilya and moaned, "Ahh, no, uh, we'll go, ahh, faster. Sleep is, uhh, recovery. Shit." Ilya sucked Shane's lower lip into his mouth, enjoying the strangled moan, laughed into Shane's kisses and dropped his head to take his dick into his mouth.

They could afford to go quickly this time, he would see Shane again in Boston in December, so Ilya sucked Shane down in one gulp. He swirled his tongue around Shane's shaft and let spit glide from his lips down Shane's shaft. Ilya gathered that wetness and pumped Shane's shaft. He released the head to Shane's whines, then reached down and sucked a ball into his mouth. He smiled as Shane moaned approvingly, then whined again as Ilya released it. Ilya licked the underside of Shane's shaft to his hand, which had not stopped pumping, and sucked Shane's cock back into his mouth. He hollowed his cheeks and flicked his tongue on the sensitive underside of Shane's cock head.

"Fuck yes," Shane cheered in a moan.

One more trick coming, Ilya thought, as he reached down and palmed both of Shane's balls before giving them a light squeeze and tug.

"Oh, shit, oh, shit," Shane panted.

Ilya hummed, licked the underside of Shane's cock head again, and sucked hard as Shane erupted into his mouth. He sucked gently until Shane stopped pulsing, then he kissed Shane's softening shaft before releasing him completely and looking up with a grin.

"Fuck, Rozanov," Shane sighed as Ilya sat up at the opposite end of the couch. He rolled his eyes when he regained control of his fine motor skills, because Ilya winked at him.

"Almost as fast as first time," he chided.

"Suck my dick," Shane retorted.

"Already?" Ilya scoffed with a smile. Ilya rubbed Shane's thighs while he regained his composure and tucked himself back into his sweatpants.

Shane sat up, "Get your ass over here, Rozanov," Shane demanded.

Ilya walked over to where Shane was sitting on the couch, squaring his hips to Shane's face. "Here?"

Shane reached up and pulled Ilya's smooth black joggers down around his thighs, wrapped his hands around his thick hamstrings, and pulled Ilya between Shane's spread legs.

Ilya ran his thumb across Shane's lower lip before pressing it into his mouth. He wanted to keep Shane staring up at him with pink cheeks through lacy black eyelashes before he went to work.

"Ready for me?" Ilya asked.

"Please?" Shane was so pretty when he asked to suck Ilya's dick.

Ilya tangled his fingers into the silky black hair on the back of Shane's head, pulling to force Shane to look up with an open mouth, tongue hanging out waiting for its prize. Ilya grabbed his cock with his left hand and tapped it on Shane's tongue, smiling as he tried to suck it in. Ilya pulled his hair tighter for a second before forcing Shane's chin parallel to the floor, then shoving his face onto his dick.

Shane swallowed Ilya down immediately, his cock hard and dripping again at Ilya's show of force. He loved the opportunity to stop thinking, to let Ilya lead, and to service him exactly the way he wanted. Shane breathed in Ilya's scent as he buried his face into the thatch of hair, and he reached his tongue out to lick his balls messily, before closing his lips and giving Ilya the suction he deserved.

"Da, so good for me," Ilya moaned, staring into Shane's blown out eyes.

Shane focused on moving his tongue and lips, alternating suction and bobbing, to make new, wet sounds around Ilya's cock. He swallowed some spit, but most drooled down his chin and onto his knees and the floor. His pants were soaked from his own dick, so he wasn't making anything worse.

Shane started rocking his hips in rhythm with his suction, humping into the air, the only friction on his sensitive dick head was the soft, fuzzy inside of his sweatpants.

"Ugh, Ilya, oh my God," Shane moaned around Ilya's dick.

Ilya smiled, knowing what was coming.

"Nobody, ah, has ever sucked, ah, my cock like you, Hollander," Ilya panted through moans, as he tightened his right hand in Shane's hair, pressing his face down tighter onto Ilya's cock. His left hand grabbed Shane's chin.

Shane moaned loudly around Ilya's cock as he came in his pants. He sucked harder and looked up at Ilya, pleading at him to come down his throat and let him suck his dick all night.

Ilya saw the tears welling up in Shane's eyes and shoved his left thumb into Shane's mouth. Shane tongued his thumb as Ilya spilled down his throat with a shout.

"Fuck, Hollander," Ilya laughed as he collapsed next to Shane on the couch. Shane sat back panting until he could speak.

"Jesus, Rozanov," Shane said as he climbed into Ilya's lap, kissing him deeply. They kissed and groped for awhile before Shane reminded Ilya that he needed to leave so he could sleep a few hours before their early morning flight.

Ilya left Shane's apartment with a smile and realized it was the first time they never made it to a bed.

December 2015

Shane hated losing. More than probably anyone other than maybe his mother. Usually after a loss, he replayed everything that went wrong. Where was he a quarter second too slow on the face-off or just not quick enough to swipe a puck off someone's blade, or, although it almost never happened, where his shot went just wide of the net. He saved the analysis of his teammates for the next day. Any loss was his fault for not supporting them properly.

What he realized is that a loss to Boston was the worst feeling, but the pain usually eased earlier. He spent less time focusing on the negative that night, because of Ilya. When Ilya was with him, Shane didn't have to think. He just did what he was told, experienced more pleasure than he could imagine, and focused on the sensations, hot, wet, good pain, the right stretch, and finally feeling complete.

Ilya opened his door and set his jaw, why did Hollander look like a confused bunny? Maybe he just needed Ilya to do everything tonight.

Ilya pulled Shane in for a deep kiss and pushed him against the floor-to-ceiling window. He grabbed Shane's jaw in his hand, maybe a little rough this time, and attacked his mouth.

"On your knees," Ilya commanded. He swallowed his smile as Shane dropped so quickly his heels hit the glass. Ilya rested his right arm against the window and leaned forward onto it as he watched Shane expertly blow him.

Eventually, Ilya pulled Shane up, muscled him to the bedroom, and pushed him onto his hands and knees on Ilya's bed. He ripped Shane's pants down and ate him out like it was his last meal, kneading his ass cheeks, and moaning into his hole.

Ilya opened him up slowly before fucking him hard. Ilya tried to thrust hard enough to leave marks in the drywall from his headboard. Shane didn't want to think, and Ilya wanted to fuck away his ability to think for at least a few hours that night. He pressed his chest into the mattress as he maintained a thunderous pace. When Ilya was ready for Shane to come, he grabbed his hair and pulled his head up, forcing Shane onto all fours.

"You. Will. Come. For. Me." Ilya growled with the pace of his thrusts.

"Now?" Shane spoke the first word he had since he left the game.

"Now!" Ilya commanded gruffly as Shane came with a shout.

Ilya knew his job was to take Shane out of his own head, so he kept up the punishing pace for seven minutes after his release. He counted the time down on his darkened alarm clock, making sure to finish before it actually hurt Shane.

They kissed and cleaned, and Ilya bathed Shane in his shower, giving special care to shampooing his hair and scratching his scalp gently. Ilya dried him and tucked him into clean sweats, before holding Shane by the door.

"Thank you," Shane whispered as he kissed Ilya goodnight and left for his hotel.

January 1, 2016

The Boston team decided as a group to not celebrate New Year's Eve last night, because they'd go out after the game. He reminded everyone that they had a three day break where they could get shit faced and sleep with strangers, but only if they could go into Montreal without a hangover. It apparently didn't matter, because they lost 5-1, with Ilya scoring the only goal and Shane getting a stupid hat trick.

He left the visitor dressing room in the Bell Center (seriously, why do Canadians spell things differently than Americans? English is such a stupid language) and looked up to see two familiar faces. Should he have pretended he didn't know them?

"Happy New Year, sweetie," Ilya heard as Yuna wrapped him in a motherly hug.

"Thank you, Mama Yuna, is good to see you."

"You had a hell of a game, son, don't hang your head," David said, with a shoulder clap. Ilya smiled sadly and thanked them both. It was good to see them, would his teammates comment? Would it matter if they did?

He went out with his team that night, and they did give him shit for hugging Shane's parents.

"We played against each other since before rookie season, of course I met them. They are just being nice. Yuna barely gloated."

Marley laughed, gave Ilya a noogie, and called for another round of shots.

January 19, 2016

Shane woke up from a fitful pre-game nap. He knew why, he was going to see Ilya again, less than a month after the last game. He needed to stay away from him, not invite him back to his sex condo again.

His mom told him that they hugged outside of the dressing rooms. How could Ilya just hug his parents and make them happy and fit so well? He can't fit, he's not gay. He fucks Svetlana. He probably fucked every woman Shane has ever seen him in a paparazzi photo with.

Shane couldn't stop his thoughts, He gets it as much as he wants, wherever he wants. He doesn't like you, Shane, and he definitely doesn't love you. Buck up and play well tonight. Lock in. Ignore his texts. Ignore his chirps. Win the face-offs. Kick some ass.

They lost 4-1. Ilya got a Gordie Howe hat trick. Shane didn't respond to his texts after.

January 20, 2016

J.J. called Shane and invited him to a restaurant in Mile End because the cast of the X-Squad was there. Shane didn't care about Hollywood celebrities, or any celebrities really, but he needed to distract his restless mind and endless thoughts of Ilya.

Shane liked the restaurant as soon as he walked in. It was closed to everyone but private guests, so it was quieter. The music had a nice beat, but not too much bass. The lights were low, and there were lamps everywhere. No overwhelming overhead lighting to be found. The bar was big, it stretched about half the length of the restaurant, and was surrounded by two- and four-top tables. He got a beer from an unfairly cute bartender who smiled a little too much and was a little too chatty.

Shane talked to J.J. and his friends for a couple of minutes, they were at a table playing some card game that wasn't worth learning, but Shane knew it was too early to leave without being rude. The back of the restaurant had tall, wide booths, so he went to the back to hide and recharge for a minute. He sat down in an empty booth and immediately realized that it was already occupied.

"Shane Hollander, I'm Rose Landry," the actress said, sticking her hand across the table for a handshake. They went through the customary introductions, I'm a big fan, no I'm a big fan. She was from Michigan and had hockey player brothers, and he watched her movies, even the bad ones, on his near-daily plane rides across the country.

They shared cod fritters, his first, but he would eat one again someday. Rose asked about coming to his next home game and bringing one of her colleagues, Miles. Shane would make sure to set them up with box seats and get her a Hollander sweater. He wanted to piss off Detroit fans, so he asked her to wear it and pose on camera. They exchanged numbers and he said goodnight after making sure she had a safe ride home.

The next morning, Rose texted.

January 20, 2016

8:07 a.m.

Good mooooorning Shaney! You don't play Detroit at home until the end of March. I don't know if I'll be here still

after you're done with your little roadie, I'll be there against Columbus!

8:26 a.m.

Hey Rose, I'm glad you'll be able to see us play Columbus. It should be a good game. We will have just played them there, so we'll know what to expect and we'll hopefully get two good wins under our belts.

Do you want to bring anyone other than Miles?

8:32 a.m.

You're so sweet! Not this time, but maybe some other games if we're free?

It would be cool to bring some of the crew if you don't mind.

Do you wanna grab coffee this morning? I don't have to get to set until noon.

8:36 p.m.

Yeah, thanks. Let me shower and I'll meet you.

Their interactions went about like that for a few weeks. They kissed once, and it was as bad as a kiss between a gay man and a Hollywood starlet could have been. Rose went to theater school, she could tell pretty quickly that Shane was never going to be interested in her like that. But he was sweet and cute and her agent suggested that they be seen out while she was in Montreal. Shane agreed, what's another fake dating scheme? At least it was socially acceptable to be seen with Rose, and she was precious and wickedly funny and didn't wear annoying perfume that gave him a headache.

Eventually Rose confided in Shane that she didn't get many close friends in her career, and she bet his was the same, so she'd love to be real friends with him. Best friends, who can talk about boys and stress and life, but who understand the importance of not writing private information in texts that could get hacked. They made sure to hold hands or lean against one another in public enough to get people talking. Any publicity wasn't good publicity, but Canada's and America's Sweethearts benefited them both.

"The only bad part of our relationship is there isn't a great ship name for us … Shose? Rane? Hollandry? Lander?" Rose laughed on the phone with Shane in some hotel somewhere.

"Yeah, we can't even be Canada's Sweethearts, because you're American. Maybe we're North America's Sweethearts. Sorry, Mexico."

Hayden rolled his eyes, never fully sure if it was real or just an act, but he knew Shane was a little lighter around Rose. And since they wouldn't be in Boston again until at least mid-April (and only if they were in the playoffs against Boston), Hayden told him he was glad that Shane had some kind of distraction.

February 10, 2016

Ilya was still in the bar in … where were they? Winnipeg? Marleau and Connors left already, it was a Wednesday and there weren't many women out. Ilya needed to be somewhere other than a hotel room, so he sat at the bar, nursing a Coke, tipping $81 for each refill, even if there were plenty of other seats for customers buying actual drinks. Vancouver was about to beat Arizona, and Crosby! How did he let Scott Hunter beat him three nil? What a disappointment.

During the final Arizona intermission, a beautiful face caught his eye, and he couldn't stop staring at the TV to the right of his game. ESPN was showing a fluff piece about Shane.

I'm sorry, Ilya thought, was that Rose Landry? The fucking movie star? Why was she cuddled up with his Shane? Why could she hold his hand?

Wait, what the fuck?

Shane wasn't his Shane. Sure he was cute, and the angry kitten face was second to none, and his constellation of freckles marred his perfect skin, that Ilya knew he washed with 3-in-1 soap because the world wasn't fair, but Shane wasn't his. Did he even want Shane to be his? He sure as shit didn't want him to be Rose's. Ilya closed out his tab, went back to the hotel room, and made sure to take out his frustration on Winnipeg the next day.

March 2016

Yuna called Shane to check in. His season was going really well, and his time with Rose seemed to reduce his stress. She asked how often they got to see each other and if he would get to go to any premieres in the future.

"Isn't Rose just a friend?" Yuna asked.

"I mean, I don't know mom, the press sure thinks we're dating." He couldn't just admit that he was such a loser that his two main relationships in the past eight years were both fake dating!

"She seems so sweet, we can't wait to meet her! Has she gotten to meet Ilya yet? I just know she'll like him. He's so funny and so kind."

"I'll try to have her meet you at the next home game. Let me know which you're going to attend and I'll see if she can make it."

Yuna finally met Rose at a game in late March and they sat together at three more games before her filming ended and she went back to Hollywood. Rose never told Yuna the truth, but Yuna never stopped asking Shane about Ilya.

June 2016

The year just kept going Shane's way. The team was clicking, Rose was fun and then she was gone. He didn't miss her, because they kept in touch over the phone just like before. She made sure her official social media accounts commented on his, and he had the social media manager for the team do the same for hers. They even shared one picture where she saw him play in L.A.

The playoffs were long, twenty games altogether against some of the best competition in the NHL. Their bodies were thinner than they should be, because there just wasn't enough fuel to keep them as muscled, and they were bruised and battered. But then the horn sounded. They were Stanley Cup champions two years in a row!

Ilya watched every game, including the first round, but he watched that round from the ice, not alone on his couch like all the other games until tonight. When it was time for the finals, the team and Svetlana came over again. They ate wings and drank beer again. Shane won the cup again. He was jealous, but he was proud. Rose Landry must be good for him.

The guys left, and Ilya nuzzled Svetlana like he did when he wanted to fuck. She made him get up and sit at the kitchen table, facing her.

Oh shit, he thought.

"Ilushya. I love you. You know I love you, and I know you love me. But neither of us love each other like that. We can still fuck until you're exclusive, but you have to talk to Jane." She continued in her familiar, but formidable, Russian, "You need to decide if you love him like that, and if you do, you need to tell him. You need to go to him and be with him and stop dicking around. Love is hard to find. And we will find a way to protect you. I am an American citizen, we can marry if you need, but you have to figure out the truth."

They still cuddled, they still loved each other, but they didn't fuck again. He knew she deserved better, even if he couldn't have better.

Chapter End Notes

Was the first half horny enough?

I feel so bad torturing my darling Ilya with Rose, but somebody needs to light a fire under his ass.

Chapter 7

Chapter Notes

We're back in Ottawa for Thanksgiving again. No pumpkin patch this year. Stupid fame.

@jebjebby_art has the cutest little art of little Shane in the snow. Thank you for the inspiration for part of this story!

Summer 2016

Shane spent the summer at the cottage again. He had J.J. and Hayden and Miitka up for two weeks with wives and girlfriends and kids. They ate enough for twice as many people, trying to rebuild the muscle they lost in the Cup chase. They swam and boated, Shane added a dock and a boat house off to the side of the inlet past the bunkies, because he figured Ilya would want at least one speedboat.

They all loved his practice facility and gym, although they didn't use them as much as Shane. His parents came for dinner twice a week, and when Hayden and Jackie came back with the kids and summer nanny, his mom came over and babysat. The girls were getting better at toddler sewer ball, and Arthur was starting to walk. Rose even came for Labor Day weekend, bringing some other Hollywood people. Shane didn't know who they were, but they made her happy, so he was glad to see them.

________

Ilya went home to Russia. It was over 30° C some days, which made the concrete and stone even more inhospitable. His father was dying. He barely recognized Ilya, and made sure to criticize last night's game in the KHL daily. Ilya was surprised he never got the American TV dad speech, "this is for your own good," from his father. But even that kind of admission betrayed too much affection.

Alexei tried to swindle more money. Ilya reminded himself to ask his agent to arrange another car commercial to cover the increased blackmail. He counted down the days until late August when he could leave to get ready for training camp. Before he left, Ilya made sure to visit his mama's grave and leave flowers. He told her about life, about Jane (she knew he was Shane, but Ilya wasn't sure who would listen into his conversations with a headstone), his sadness over his father's illness, and how much he missed her. She could have been so happy in Boston, skating at the outdoor rinks in winter, and she would have loved Shane. Their gentleness was similar, it kept him safe and made him feel protected.

October 2016

Boston was in Montreal on the 4th. Shane skated up to the center line during warmups, "my parents are staying here tonight, but Thanksgiving is in a week, before regular season. Wanna come?"

"Hollander. Yes. Will text ticket info."

They flew in on the night of October 8 to the Ottawa airport. Ilya pulled his hat low and kept his hoodie up. He followed the text to Shane's responsible Jeep, just like before, smiling to himself about how predictable he was. They would have to fly out the morning after Thanksgiving, but that meant three nights of the best sleep Ilya might get all season.

"Hello Hollander."

"Rozanov. Did anyone recognize you?"

"I don't think so. Wore blue to be inconspicuous. Black too sexy."

"Inconspicuous, huh? I don't think we'll get to go to the pumpkin patch this year. I have a billboard on the way, and you have that new commercial."

"Is okay, will have to find other ways to have fun," Ilya waggled his eyebrows, like they wouldn't be with Yuna and David the entire time. He couldn't wait.

The drive looked familiar to Ilya now, even in the dark of the late night, which delighted him. Yuna and David were on the front porch almost as soon as Shane's tires hit the gravel. Ilya couldn't wait to hug them hello. They went back for their bags and settled in.

"Do you boys want any dinner before bed? I know it's late, but we have leftover spaghetti."

"Spaghetti, please," at the exact same time as, "No thanks, mom."

Yuna laughed as she went to the kitchen to warm up spaghetti for Ilya. She brought him a Coke and a freshly toasted piece of garlic bread. They sat around the table and chatted about preseason, their plans for the holiday weekend, a sale on mums at the farm stand nearby. It might have been the most normal dinner Ilya ever had.

Nobody pretended that Ilya would sleep in the spare bedroom. He glanced in to see that the bed was made, and the room was neat, of course, but headed to Shane's room after his shower.

"Am exhausted and full of spaghetti. This will be best sleep ever," he yawned, crawling under the covers and snuggling into Shane's side.

We haven't even kissed yet, Shane thought as he turned to Ilya, who was already asleep, softly breathing through barely-open lips. Shane kissed him gently on the forehead, rolled his head onto the pillow, and stared at the ceiling, smiling.

Shane stirred around 6:45 the next morning, warm and cozy under his weighted blanket of a situationship. He cheered last-night Shane who decided to turn off the alarm after a pair of late flights and even more time around the dinner table. This was going to be an amazing weekend together. Shane slid out from under Ilya and headed to the garage for a quick jog on the treadmill.

Ilya stirred, having slept like the dead, confused where he was for a split second, then confused why he was alone. He stumbled into the family room looking for Shane.

"Good morning sleepy head, I made pumpkin pancakes!" Yuna greeted him.

"I let you sleep while I did a quick run in the garage. Do you want me to make you some coffee?" Shane continued.

"No. David? Good syrups?"

"I have toasted vanilla, caramel, cinnamon, and pumpkin spice. Want me to make you a pumpkin spice latte?" David answered.

"With whip, please."

Shane had one pumpkin pancake with his green smoothie and egg white omelette. The family ate pancakes with scrambled eggs and maple sausage links. Ilya had two PSLs, the second without whip.

"Since we can't go to the pumpkin patch, do you want to go on a short hike?" Shane asked. "There's a really pretty park with a big lake, Gatineau Park. It should be pretty busy this weekend, but it should be easier to blend in because of it."

"Do I need hiking boots?"

"We probably need to get you some since you keep coming back to Ottawa!" Yuna interjected.

"Not this time, tennis shoes should be fine. Did you bring a comfortable pair?" Shane answered.

"Yes, let's hike."

"Before you go, Ilya, why don't you use this for your hair?" Yuna held out a black … thing. "It's called a buff like they use on Survivor. I use it to hold my hair back for exercise or when I'm cleaning. We can hide your curls better under your hat."

Ilya giggled at the idea.

"I know it looks like a dickie, but it's just a wide headband," Yuna gets out before Ilya doubled over with laughter.

"It does look like some dickies," he wheezed, tears streaming down his face at the new word.

David was laughing so hard in the background that it was nearly silent, coming out in wheezes. He tried not to interrupt, but thoroughly enjoyed the vocabulary lesson.

"He doesn't know what a dickie is, mom."

"A dickie is like a little turtleneck," she sighs, "Well! I know, you'll just have to see what a dickie is when you come back for Christmas!"

Eventually they calmed down, tucked Ilya's curls into the buff, added the hat, and headed out.

They drove in companionable quiet, commenting on the scenery, just getting used to being together again for something other than sex. Shane was shocked to realize that it had been six years since their last magical holidays together.

Ilya stared out the window taking in the view. He grew up in the concrete and stone of Moscow, the parks were designed by a tsar in the 1800s, with pea gravel paths and carefully trimmed bushes. In Ottawa, the trees were mostly green and yellow for now, but rich oranges were starting to burst through in places. The cloudless sky might be the bluest Ilya had ever seen, and the air had a bite of cool.

Once they pulled into the parking area, Shane explained the park was over the river in Quebec, which was apparently different from Ontario, which is where Ottawa sat. Ilya was confused and decided to look at a map once he got back to Boston.

Ilya made sure his curls were still tucked into the buff, and he adjusted Shane's blue hoodie and David's McGill hat. It was apparently a really good university. Who knew? Shane zipped up an Ottawa Redblacks hoodie and matching jacket, both borrowed from David. They added huge mirrored aviators that they bought at a gas station on the way.

"Time to go, eh?" asked Ilya, trying out an abysmal Canadian accent.

"Maybe it's best to try not to speak when people are nearby," Shane laughed as he led them to the first trail. They tried to stay in less-traveled sections of the park, but Shane wanted Ilya to see the Arc du Triomphe ruin and the waterfall. Ilya was amazed at the wide paths through the woods and couldn't wait to find a quiet place to steal his first kiss. Past the waterfall, Shane stopped at a lookout with a bench. It was way too public for a kiss, but they sat next to one another and linked pinkies while looking out over the land below.

Shane drove them to the Pink Lake Trail, because it was too dangerous to try to hide on the free shuttle. When they were alone, Shane pointed out trees and mushrooms and birds to Ilya, explaining what they did and how they helped the local ecology. At one quiet spot, where they stood to take in the view, they saw a fox run by. Ilya heard what sounded like manic construction, and Shane pointed out a surprisingly large black bird with a white and black head and a red mohawk.

"That's a pileated woodpecker."

"Like Woody!"

"You know Woody Woodpecker?" Shane was amazed at Ilya's ancient pop culture knowledge.

They hiked slowly, savoring the fall air, warm sunlight, and time alone together. Sometimes they talked and joked, but mostly they just existed. Shane would grab Ilya's arm to get his attention and point something out, Ilya would bump shoulders with Shane just to touch him.

They walked around the entire lake, avoiding the crowds at the lookout. Finally, at a tight turn in the trail away from the lake, Ilya pushed Shane off the trail and behind a tree. His hand found Shane's jaw, holding on softly, while he stared into the dark chocolate pools of Shane's eyes. His gaze swept down past the beautiful freckles to the pronounced Cupid's bow of Shane's mouth. He leaned in and connected their lips, softly at first, then he took Shane's upper lip between his, sucking lightly. His tongue ran across Shane's lower lip, begging him to open. Shane's left hand wrapped around Ilya's waist, and his right hand went to run his fingers through the curls. They both laughed when he felt the buff in Ilya's hair.

"I can't play with your dickie out here," Shane laughed and collapsed into Ilya's smiling mouth again. Ilya parted his smiling lips to let Shane in. They fit together perfectly, like their curves and edges were built for one another. Knowing that this couldn't go further, not here, they kissed slowly, savoring every breath. Shane smelled like the outdoors, with a hint of wet leaves, evergreen, rich dirt, and sweat. It was the cleanest, sexiest smell Ilya had ever smelled, both foreign and like home.

Eventually, they broke apart, resting their foreheads against one another's, both smiling like they couldn't believe that this was happening or that it felt so damn good. One more soft peck, and they were off again.

They eventually walked back to the car and drove back to Shane's parents' house. Ilya loved so many familiar landmarks along the way—there was the crooked sign, the roadside farm stand that was packed up for the night, the two Boxers in the back yard of that one house with the chain link fence and a massive Christmas tree. And there it was, Ilya's closest embodiment to home, warm and inviting, with light spilling into the impeccably landscaped front yard. His favorite tree might be that droopy thing.

"Shane, what is that tree?"

"I think it's a crab apple tree, but it looks like that because it does what's called weeping. It's got really pretty pink flowers in the spring, yellow crab apples that turn red over summer, and in the fall, it turns red before it drops its leaves. But you can't eat the crab apples, they're too sour. Some people use them to make jams because of the high pectin." Shut up. You don't need to lecture whenever he asks a question, Shane thought to himself.

Meanwhile, Ilya smiled and wished Shane would keep going. He loved his encyclopedic knowledge of his home and the outdoors. Who wouldn't want a professional athlete with perfect skin who could also be a lumberjack and keep you safe in the forest?

"Since Thanksgiving is tomorrow, maybe we should offer to go to the store and pick up anything mom needs. What do you think?"

"More public?"

"I mean, no you're right. I wish we could just order groceries delivered on an app."

"You don't have Instacart?"

Shane shook his head and led them into the house.

They ordered Peruvian chicken for dinner that night, with grilled veggies, yucca fries, saffron rice, and that amazing yellow sauce. They got mango juice pressed in the restaurant. They ate and laughed and told stories. Yuna had an adorable picture of Shane in the snow as a toddler.

"Ilya, you should have seen him. Shane has always been so quiet and easygoing, but he just kept saying 'No!' 'No!' and we would ask what he wanted us to stop or turn off. Eventually he toddled over to the window, pointed out, and yelled 'NO!'" she laughed and continued, "then we realized he was saying 'snow.' So we got him in a snow suit and pulled on parkas and toques and boots and took him into the yard. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he sprinted into the yard yelling 'NO!' and he immediately fell face first into the snow."

Shane had an angry kitten face, knowing what was coming next.

She pulled out a scrapbook and said, "like any parents of a toddler, I was watching him and David was taking a million pictures. Here he is, gleeful about the snow, ready to sprint into it."

Shane looked precious, bundled up in a blue snow suit that was so puffy he could barely move, blue and green striped scarf, and grey toque with a blue pompom on top. He came up to just taller than Yuna's hip in the first picture. His face was a mixture of awe and glee at the snow.

"So cute, Hollander."

"And here he is, five seconds later."

The three of them laughed at the pile of blue puffer fabric and grey knit surrounded by snow, which was actively being thrown into the air by the concussion of Shane's fall. Shane's face wavered between angry kitten and a reluctant smile, especially seeing how well Ilya fit in with his family. 

After dinner, Yuna and David told the boys they were going to run to the market for some last minute items and see a movie. They would be back in about three and a half hours. Nobody mentioned that the food would go bad sitting in the car while they were at the movie.

The boys snuggled onto the couch together, with Sportsnet on quietly in the background. Ilya wrapped both arms around Shane and leaned in to kiss the top of his head.

"Thank you for having me, Shane. Is nice to have pretend family."

"Wow. You've never called me Shane before. I think I like it."

"Me too. Now come here and kiss me."

They made out for awhile, then headed to bed and shared slow, lazy blow jobs. Like it was a Sunday morning and they were just together. The sensation was amazing, but the emotions were revelatory. Neither could admit it yet, but neither ever wanted it to end.

Shane set the alarm for Thanksgiving morning, so they woke at 6:30, a tangle of limbs and heat. They had a quick make-out session, even with stale morning breath, before they trucked into the garage for a workout.

Shane's Auntie and Uncle and Baaba came again. Ilya had to restrain himself from scooping Baaba up and spinning her around with a big hug. She taught him how to make mochi this time, first creating anko, a sweet paste from red beans. They cooked the beans forever, then pureed them in the food processor, then cooked them in butter and sugar and left it to cool.

Baaba showed Ilya how to toast the rice flour on the stovetop, then they mixed sweet rice flour, cornstarch, sugar, coconut milk, and melted coconut oil, then flattened that into the bottom of a small baking pan, and steamed it. She showed Ilya how to oil his hands and roll the red bean paste into balls, both laughing as it kept getting stuck to his big hands.

Finally, they covered their hands in more sweet rice flour, lifted up the dough, and wrapped it around the red bean paste balls. They rolled each piece of mochi in a little more sweet rice flour, and added them to the plate. When they were finished, Baaba and Ilya cheers-ed two pieces of mochi to try, and he was a convert.

After, Ilya helped Yuna make the stuffing and pies, while Shane and David set the table and stayed out of the way. The men, other than Ilya, sat around the Thanksgiving Day Classic, where Edmonton beat Montreal and Calgary beat Toronto. David only half watched, because the Redblacks weren't playing. Shane guessed the CFL was better than their conversation, because he barely pretended to care about the political implications of some fiscal decision, or was it the fiscal implications of a political one? he clearly couldn't care less.

The family gathered around the dining room table with the familiar pumpkin tablecloth and a pretty arrangement of sunflowers that were gold, red, and purple. Ilya tapped Shane's foot with his own throughout the meal, and thanked the family for letting him join again before the season started. They finished, then had pie and mochi, and nobody commented on how much bigger and uglier some of the mochi were, then gave hugs. Auntie, Uncle and Baaba headed back home, and David started the cleanup.

"Why don't you boys go for a walk while there's still some daylight? Bring a flashlight just in case. Ilya, have you seen the park at the end of the street?" Yuna asked.

"Only at Christmas, was very beautiful with lights. Would like to see it in fall and daylight."

The boys slipped on jackets and hats and headed out. Shane instinctively grabbed Ilya's hand in the doorway, then dropped it before they stepped onto the porch.

"I hate that," Shane complained at the stupid limitations.

"I know," Ilya answered.

"Come on, let's head up to the park. I wonder if the stick library is different without snow."

"Should have brought new bag of tennis balls!"

They strolled leisurely, stopping to take pictures of leaves, making sure all identifiable buildings were cropped out. Shane pointed out a female cardinal, and a little black fluffy creature.

"Aren't squirrels lighter than that?" Ilya wondered.

Once they got near the entrance of the park, Ilya asked Shane to take a picture. He brushed a leaf out of Shane's hair and straightened his collar. Shane was reluctant, but acquiesced. They each took one selfie together against trees near the entrance of the park, and immediately hid them in locked folders that did not back up to the cloud. It was their first private selfie together, and each treated it like gold. Ilya smiled knowing that Shane's looked much more authentically happy than in his promotional photos.

The park was magical in fall. The trees were bursting with yellow, orange and some red leaves. They walked the small trails through the woods, stopping to kiss as often as they wanted under the cover of the woods in the small, empty park. The pergola was still there, but the trees were not lit for Christmas yet. As twilight set in, the pergola lights came on. Ilya spun underneath and claimed, "Hollander! Ottawa might be magic!"

He pushed Shane against one of the posts, grabbing his jaw in his hand. Shane nuzzled the calluses and rested his head against the strength of Ilya's forearm. Ilya grabbed Shane's chin and directed his eyes up to his own.

"I like this."

"I like this, too."

They couldn't betray more emotion than that, not even say "I like you" just yet, but even that admission made Shane's anxiety settle and Ilya's heart sing. Their kiss was unhurried, like they'd been most of the day, exploring each other's mouths and jaws and necks.

Shane nibbled on Ilya's ear, "do you have pierced ears?"

"Yes, wear little hoops sometimes. Do you want to?"

Shane grinned into Ilya's kiss, barely able to wipe the smile off his face, knowing this new detail about him.

The sun set eventually, and Shane was cold where they weren't pressed against each other, so they headed home.

Ilya pointed out that the owners of the stick library repainted it in bright yellow with blue accents, "easiest colors for dogs to see." Shane was glad that he felt comfortable sharing his random knowledge, too.

On the way back home, Shane couldn't stop thinking about buying two pairs of matching earrings, but wearing one of each set as a way to be together. He would get his ears pierced in the summer. No need to increase the likelihood of infection at the beginning of regular season.

Their last night together before early flights in the morning wasn't as hot as some others. But they cuddled on the couch and watched The Middle, Ilya loved Sue Sue Heck, and The Real O'Neals, before Yuna took over and turned on Big Brother Canada.

"It's not reality TV; it's strategy," she explained while settling in with her glass of chardonnay.

The boys said goodnight and headed to bed early. The rooms were too close to fuck, but that didn't stop them from making out and dry humping like teenagers.

Chapter 8

Chapter Summary

They spend Thanksgiving apart, but we get another Christmas together!

Did they get their shit together this holiday season? We know better than that!

Late October 2016

Ilya was alone in his massive, modern home. He looked out at the last remnants of fall, where the oranges and reds were decaying into brown before falling and being blown away. He wondered what Halloween would be like at Shane's parents' house. Do they have a lot of kids come to trick or treat? Do they dress up? Yuna wouldn't dare give out floss or apples, would she?

Ilya would be flying to Detroit on Halloween. Maybe one year he could give out candy. Maybe he would dress like John Wick. He always did think Keanu Reeves was hot, and anyone who kills to avenge a dog is a hero in his book.

He jumped as he heard his door opening and familiar Russian being spoken.

"Surprise!"

"Svetlana, hey."

"I could tell you were sad. I brought Chinese food and beer. Sit." Ilya hugged her and popped a beer before bringing over plates and napkins. Svetlana always made him eat with the chopsticks provided by the restaurant, "it's good for your dexterity, you'll need that in future, to prevent arthritis," she would always say.

"Okay, why are you sad? Is it Jane?"

"I spent Canadian Thanksgiving with Jane and family. Was perfect, we made dessert with grandma and hiked and kissed. Didn't even fuck and I still loved it."

"You like Jane. A lot."

"What does it matter? We cannot be together. But yes, probably too much."

"Does he like you as much as you like him? He has to, you are Ilyusha."

"I think so. My Jane is not great at expressing feelings, but I think so."

"So? Do something!"

"I can't. I don't have American citizenship, hell, I don't have Canadian citizenship. Pretty hard to be a hockey player without a good passport. Russia could take mine if they knew. Not to mention my father…" he trailed off.

"Stop listening to your father."

"I can't just stop. He needs me."

She stared at Ilya with a mix of mild disgust and understanding, "I could marry you for citizenship so you can be with Jane. I don't plan to marry anyone else, and I love you."

"I love you, too. But I can't ask you to do that. I can't do that to you. I can't do that to him."

Ilya knew he never mentioned Shane's name to Svetlana, but he figured she knew. He didn't watch anywhere near as many games for other teams as he did Montreal, and she caught him checking out Shane's ESPN special at that massive mansion by a lake more than once. But it gave him an opportunity to fall asleep with his Jane. He was grateful for Svetlana, and he loved her with all his heart, but not like he loved Jane.

Shit. He loved Jane.

December 22, 2016

12:32 p.m.

jane

jane

jaaaaaaaaane

12:34 p.m.

Hello Lily, how are you doing today?

12:35 p.m.

learned new christmas song

one more sleep

keep singing it, and now it's 2 more sleeps

snow is falling all around us, my baby's coming home for Christmas

12:36 p.m.

I like that. Now I'm going to be singing

"if I can make it to Christmas Eve then it's one more sleep"

I wish we could fly in together. It would make so much more sense. But I will pick you up in Ottawa. Sensible Jeep, you know the drill.

12:37 p.m.

boring car

you are so predictable my jane

12:39 p.m.

I'm really excited to have you back with us for Christmas.

Mom has a couple surprises for you, she can't wait.

12:39 p.m.

me either

Ilya was very proud of himself for soft launching that Shane was his baby. After that talk with Svetlana, it was maybe time to at least admit it to him.

Shane was in Montreal, preparing to play his last game before the break against Minnesota, panicking. Of course he Googled the lyrics while Ilya was texting. The song was catchy. Did Ilya just call him his baby? Was he his baby? He needed to learn more about Leona Lewis to identify any additional subtext before he got excited.

December 24, 2016 - morning

The Ottawa airport looked similar to how Ilya saw it six years ago. The wreaths were new, but hung on the same triangles in the ceiling. The music was the same until he heard the familiar "oooh yeah" Stop it, he thought. "Snow is falling all around us, my baby's coming home for Christmas." He barked out a laugh, and then immediately faked coughing to make people look away.

Did he and Shane have a song? And was it a cheesy Christmas song? He just woke up from his one more sleep, and he'd see Shane as soon as he could get to the rental car lot.

Ilya was practically giddy by the time he saw Shane. He made it a point to set his jaw and walk like he was simply trying to reach his destination rather than sprint with a goofy grin on his face.

"Hello my Shane, Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Ilya."

"I missed you."

"Me too," Shane said quietly through a soft smile. Did Ilya really say he missed him? In person, sober?

Shane only made it about three miles out of the airport parking lot before he pulled over into a Park & Ride where the few commuters working on Christmas eve had already boarded the bus to downtown.

They tried to unbuckle, laughing at the emergency stop on the seat belts, and eventually got loose. They grabbed each other's faces, and kissed, still laughing, across the center console. They kissed each other for several minutes, grabbing hips and shoulders and jaws as they could, before they pulled apart.

They stared into the other's eyes with goofy grins, just enjoying the presence of their person. Shane knew this wasn't forever, yet, but he was pretty sure Ilya was okay with for now. And he was overjoyed to have even that.

________

They passed the now familiar attractions. Ilya commented on the decorations outside the old fashioned general store with the white peak above the carport out front. They had a huge wreath in the peak that looked like it was made from real holly. A bluebird was sitting in it, eating the last of the berries.

"It's on a pulley," Shane explained." They bring it down every morning and add new birdseed ornaments and berries. They leave it up all winter," Shane explained.

Ilya reminded himself to find out where to buy birdseed ornaments in Boston for his house.

The snow was already deep, Shane said 45 centimeters, then said it was nice to not have to convert for Americans. The yards were white, with decorations on the porches and wreaths and garlands hanging from windows and gutters. Shane even played Christmas music, quietly of course, through the aux cord in the rental. Ilya thought this Christmas might be even better than the last, back in 2008. Then he laughed to himself and wondered why this stupid rental car didn't have Bluetooth.

"I love it when rental cars have an aux cord still so I don't have to connect with Bluetooth. I never want to accidentally upload my contacts to a strange car," Shane answered, as though he could hear Ilya's thoughts.

Sure the Christmas he was used to was quiet and at home, the merriment saved for New Years, but American Christmas had flair, and Canadian Christmas was comfortable and safe. Not boring.

Yuna had already texted the family group chat, yes, there was a family group chat, and he was in it, that she and David were doing Japanese Christmas Eve again. Ilya was absolutely going to take advantage of that and fuck Shane into the headboard tonight. He hoped he was ready.

David and Yuna greeted them from the porch, as was becoming tradition, and Ilya hugged them both tightly. "Thank you for having me again." They didn't ship in presents this year, so there was nothing to wrap. Only a few cards to hide strategically around Shane's room.

Yuna shuffled everyone into the dining room past the big tree in the family room and the lights over the windows. Ilya chose the seat on "his" side of the table nearest the slim trees in the corner. He reveled in the thought that he remembered a family home with fondness.

They ate sandwiches for lunch and caught up. Shane talked about his new recovery routine while Ilya rolled his eyes and grinned, and Ilya told them a PG version of Marley drunk in Edmonton. Yuna asked questions about Ilya's brand deals and offered to help him find more. He was actually interested in that, because his father was getting more expensive. Or, likely Alexei was also stealing more money making his father's care seem costlier. David talked about a new sport he expected to gain popularity. They all laughed at the name, pickleball, and agreed to play it together on Boxing Day.

Soon, the sunlight began to wane, and they realized they were at the table together for almost three hours. It was time for Yuna and David to get ready and go for Japanese Christmas eve. "Lasagna's in the fridge, honey. There's a post-it on top, but bake it at 375 for 50 minutes, and take the foil off after 25 minutes so the cheese browns. And don't put the post-it in the oven!" Yuna instructed.

"Lasagna?" Ilya asked, remembering their Christmas Eve lasagna the last time.

"Yeah, after you suggested it, we just started eating it every Christmas Eve. It's like you're here, and there are delicious leftovers." Shane smiled at Ilya's glossy eyes before they both looked away.

Yuna emerged in a white silk blouse with wide leg navy trousers and stiletto boots. She had her mostly black hair swept up into a soft French twist, and she added berry lipstick and the earrings Shane got her for Christmas. David was in a forest green sweater that looked cashmere and dark jeans.

Ilya let out a low wolf whistle, "mama Yuna you look better every year!" He laughed, "so do you, David, turn around, let me see those jeans."

David gave a silly spin and shimmy, but Ilya could tell he appreciated the compliment.

"You boys have fun together! We'll text on our way home, but we shouldn't be back until at least midnight. Don't wait up!" Yuna called as they exited toward the garage.

Shane put the lasagna in the oven and set an alarm on his phone to take off the foil in 25 minutes. Ilya was on the couch, smiling at the Christmas tree and his stocking over the fireplace when Shane walked in and straddled his lap.

"Merry Christmas to me!" he cheered before grabbing the back of Shane's head and pulling him in for a kiss. He drank it in like the life-force it was. They pulled back and Ilya felt Shane's breath on his lips, he stared at Shane in awe.

What did he do to deserve this beautiful, talented man who wants to kiss him, fuck him, and invite him into his family?

Soon, they were interrupted by the alarm, and Ilya followed Shane into the kitchen, squeezing his ass while he bent over to pull the lasagna out of the oven.

"Ow, shit!" Shane exclaimed as a tiny bit of sauce sloshed out of the pan and onto his hand as he slid the pan (on a cookie sheet of course) back into the oven.

"Let me see," Ilya demanded, as he pulled Shane's hand to his face, licked the sauce, and placed a big kiss on it. "Muah! Big kiss, all better!" Ilya cheered. Shane looked at the spot that was burnt, was happy that there was no mark, and pulled Ilya in for another kiss.

"Twenty five more minutes, then it needs to rest for an hour. Can you be PG-13 until then, Rozanov?" Shane growled.

"Maybe not if you keep making those noises," Ilya responded before he scooped Shane up and deposited him onto the couch, then jumped over the back to straddle him.

"If you break my mom's couch, she's gonna be so pissed," Shane laughed, as Ilya talked over him saying, "She'll be happy to get new couch from millionaire son." He bent down and kissed Shane's face all over in tiny goofy kisses, making him laugh and squirm. Ilya loved these moments where Shane let his guard down. They made out and groped some more until the alarm went off again.

"Thank God," Shane groaned. They both walked into the kitchen tenting their pants.

"Thank God your parents aren't here to see these?" Ilya asked, pointing to their dicks. Shane put the lasagna on the stovetop, turned off the oven, laughed, and tapped Ilya, "Tag, you're it!" he yelled as he sprinted to his bedroom.

Ilya followed suit, then stopped only to grab lube and a condom while shucking his clothes off as fast as he could. He marveled at Shane, who neatly folded his clothes and placed them in his desk chair, then reclined onto his bed.

They kissed and groped a little more before Ilya flipped Shane and got to work. He kissed from the inside of his knee, up his thighs, placing kisses and licks and nibbles along the way. He ghosted his tongue across Shane's hole, chasing Shane's gasps and sighs. He licked and probed, worshiping and stretching Shane's hole before Shane rolled onto his back and looked up at Ilya with the sweetest eyes.

"Ready? I'm ready," he sighed with a smile, pulling Ilya down onto him. He held him there for a second, just to feel his weight. A strong, Russian weighted blanket that smelled like citrus and pepper and juniper and cigarettes and home. Shit, he thought to himself, and sex. He smells like sex. Not home, Shane.

Ilya kissed Shane's neck, licking the top of his collarbone, then shifted his weight and began to press in. Shane breathed deeply, accepting the stretch, then reached for a kiss. Their tongues tangled and danced as Ilya slowly entered him and Shane delighted in the burn. Shane's muscles were always tense, and he was usually awkward and unwieldy except when he was on skates, but he found himself softening more and more throughout the day with Ilya. This last kiss turned his insides to melted butter. Shane was Ilya's to mold and use as he saw fit.

Ilya shifted his hips slowly into Shane, easing him open and finding that spot, then avoiding it on purpose. He thrust harder, picking up the pace, focusing on the bundle of nerves that make Shane babble.

"Listen to your sweet sounds," Ilya praised, "you always sound so pretty for me. Never make any sense once I'm inside you, but I understand my sweet Jane."

He grinned and angled his hips to hit it every time, rotating just slightly as his cock rubbed inside Shane.

"Ilya… more… thank…" Shane grunted and moaned with each thrust.

Ilya's breath quickened and his muscles tightened, but never felt a high like watching Shane's resolve crumble as he fell apart on his dick. Shane let out a sound that was part grunt, part moan, part sigh with every thrust.

"Ready?" Ilya asked, knowing the answer.

"Pl—please, Ilya," Shane moaned.

"Come for me. Let me see you come all over yourself. Come for me, Shane," Ilya moaned between thrusts, and Shane exploded with a shout.

"Fuck, Ilya, fuck! Yes! Fuck!"

"Shaaaane…" Ilya groaned as he came into Shane, fighting the urge to collapse and make a bigger mess.

He curved his back to avoid touching Shane's stomach and kissed him deeply as he slid out of him.

"You wait for me, we'll wash these sheets, and we eat dinner," he whispered, kissed Shane again, and left to get a washcloth. It was weird to walk naked through Yuna's house, but he wasn't pulling on pants for this.

Don't worry, there was no jump scare, Shane's parents did everything they could to leave the boys alone. A mother knows who the love of her son's life is, even if he doesn't.

Ilya cleaned up Shane and got him into the shower while he stripped the bed and started washing the sheets. They ate lasagna, and Shane had a huge salad, and laughed at the table. They stayed so long, they switched the sheets to the dryer before they left the table. Eventually, Shane got up, cleaned up the dishes and put the rest of the lasagna away, while Ilya dressed the bed with clean sheets, warm from the dryer.

"You wanna walk to the park again before bed?" Shane asked. Ilya immediately grabbed his coat. He couldn't picture a better Christmas eve. They walked together, Ilya in his parka, Shane in his like good Canadian boys. Ilya was excited to see the stick library and started talking about all the dogs he wanted to have one day. Shane smiled and listened and thought about what he could do to make that wish come true.

They walked through all the trees in the park, looking at the lights, and Shane pointed out that kids from the local schools decorated one. Ilya laughed and cheered on the art. He called every piece genius, even if neither of them could identify the subject. They commented how much bigger the trees had gotten, and they danced under the pergola to a tinny song on Shane's phone before kissing until they couldn't feel their toes.

They walked back down Shane's street, playing tag and tossing snowballs, laughing in the cover of darkness, before they eventually showered and tucked into Shane's bed, ready for Christmas morning.

"Alarm again? Seriously Hollander?" Ilya groaned. The sun wouldn't be up for nearly an hour, but they were trudging to the garage to get in a workout.

"We are professional athletes, Ilya," Shane answered before getting smothered in kisses.

"I'll show you a professional athlete," Ilya giggled and kissed him more.

After showers, Yuna carried in something she called breakfast casserole and a plate of French toast. Ilya looked at the casserole skeptically until she told him it was full of cheese, eggs, hash browns, and sausage. He made sure everyone else had their fill and nearly finished the pan. He would get that recipe before he left. Shane had a slice of French toast, a tiny scoop of breakfast casserole, and an omelette.

"Ilya, I promised you before that we would decorate Christmas cookies. Would you still like to?"

"Yes, please. Do we have sprinkles?"

"I got extra sprinkles and made two shades of red, two shades of green, and white icing for decorating. I'll put down some newspaper and we can do it here on the dining room table while the boys clean up breakfast!"

Yuna and Ilya decorated three dozen sugar cookies. She tried to teach him how to make stripes and pull the toothpick through them to make zig zags, but neither could keep their hands steady enough to do it, because they couldn't stop laughing. The table was covered in sprinkles, and Ilya had wiped pink frosting across his forehead at some point. Shane fought the urge to walk into the dining room and lick his face clean.

Eventually they all headed into the family room to open presents.

David and Yuna handed the boys each a box, wrapped in red shiny paper, that was the exact same size and shape. They laughed as they opened hiking boots for their next adventures.

Ilya handed Shane two envelopes. "This first," he handed Shane a small envelope with a QR code inside. "Is digital download of 'One More Sleep!'" They both laughed and Shane smiled at Ilya, his face beaming what his mouth wouldn't say.

"Also this," Ilya pointed at the other envelope, "for your cottage."

Shane opened up the envelope and just stuttered. "You… This can't… Tell me you didn't… Ilya, this is too much!"

"Is not." He looked at David and Yuna, "Got Shane two Jet-Skis. He thinks I won't ask to visit and ride them," he rolled his eyes.

"They are high end, can go fast, can fish from, seat up to three, but really only two adults and one kid. Will be safe on the lake and easy to store."

Shane smiled and whispered, "Thank you, Ilya." He guessed they were using first names regularly now.

"Should we give mom and dad their present or Ilya?"

"Ilya!" Yuna cheered. She loved seeing their secret affection showing through.

Ilya opened the envelope Shane handed him. "What? Flying?"

"They're flying lessons in Boston. I checked with the league, it's an acceptable pastime during the off-season, so it won't get you in trouble with your coach. I figure if you can't sky dive, at least you can learn to fly?"

"I love it, Shane, thank you!" He almost leaned in to kiss him to show his gratitude, then sat up, "gift for Yuna and David!"

Shane pulled out one more envelope. "This one is from both of us," Shane said as he handed the envelope to Yuna.

She stared at the contents, flipping through the pages. "Shane, Ilya this is too much," as she gazed at them with a look of shock and joy.

"It's a three-week vacation to Europe. We scheduled it during fall, so you'd miss preseason games but also a lot of the tourists. You'll stay in Paris, Provence, London, Lisbon, and Barcelona. There are guided tours at each stop if you want to take them, and luxury travel between each location. My travel agent said we can add or subtract cities as you want, or shift any excursions around because we booked it so early."

"Boys," David coughed. "This is so generous."

"Shane said was supposed to be your honeymoon, but saved money for baby, then hockey."

"Thank you boys," Yuna said as she grabbed them into a huge hug. David joined on the side and ruffled Ilya's curls.

They spent the rest of the day relaxing. Yuna made sure to show Ilya Christmas Vacation this year, and he loved Cousin Eddie from the beginning. Eventually the Griswolds were in the dining room, and Eddie had a dark turtleneck under a see-through white sweater, and Ilya started laughing again.

"See, Ilya, that turtleneck thing is a dickie," Yuna explained, recalling the buff/dickie conversation at Thanksgiving. Ilya fell into Shane's lap laughing. He almost stayed there, but decided against it at a family function, but not before Shane twirled his finger into one curl and Ilya squeezed his thigh and kissed his knee.

The next morning was Boxing Day, Ilya learned. He also learned that Shane was not the only sadist Hollander. David woke them up to get into more workout clothes before their flights back to their teams. They headed to a nearby indoor racket club and played a very loud, very silly game that was like ping pong and tennis had a baby.

"That was fun, dad, but I doubt pickleball will ever catch on," Shane said as they were leaving.

They showered, hugged, kissed, packed, hugged, and kissed some more, then said their goodbyes, loaded up Shane's rental Jeep, and headed to the airport.

"See you in February, Hollander." Ilya schooled his face before he said it, knowing that he couldn't gush or, worse, cry as they were separating at the airport. As much as he loved being around Yuna and David, and as much as he loved their home, Shane was the only thing he would truly miss. And because of fucking Russia and his fucking family and the fucking NHL, he would have to keep missing him.

"Goodbye Ilya," Shane said, eyes glossy. He wore the practiced soft smile that he often used to hide his frustration. Maybe they would both end up at the All-Star Game together. That was about a month away.

He called his mom before he got out of the car for his flight. "Mom," Shane nearly cried, "I need to get it together before I go in there. Nobody can see me sad. Nobody can see me cry. I'm Shane Hollander, I don't have emotions. Definitely not at Christmas."

"Oh honey, you're allowed to have emotions. Everyone would love to see you as human," Yuna didn't mean to insult him, but she knew she wasn't wrong.

"Jesus, thanks."

"What's wrong, Shane? Let's talk about it, and then we'll fix it.

"I… I don't understand why it feels real if he doesn't want to be with me," Shane bit out. He'd never really said that out loud before, and he wasn't sure he wanted to say it now, especially not to his mom.

"Maybe you need to ask him, honey. There could be more at play than just how he feels."

Chapter 9

Chapter Notes

We're going to Hollywood!

I took liberties with the schedule in February 2017. You'll see why. Please forgive me.

December 31, 2016

12:00:01 a.m.

Happy New Year, Lily

Stay warm in Buffalo

12:02 a.m.

happy new year in pitsburg my jane

wish you could keep me warm

January 27, 2017

The All-Star Game was in Los Angeles, and they were both going again. Rose would come for the All-Star Game, but not the skills competition. She was bringing Miles, her two friends Courtney and Whitney, and a new boyfriend, Jack. Shane hoped he could introduce them to Ilya in a way that was super casual and definitely didn't make Ilya think he had dated Rose in the past or let Rose know just what he felt about Ilya. He knew it was going to be a disaster.

They met in the bar, Shane in a cream blazer over a black tee. I should have worn the blue linen, he thought. I look like an asshole.

Ilya came in wearing a red Hawaiian shirt. They were in LA for Christ's sake, not Honolulu! But he looked adorable as always. They sat together, pretending to barely know each other. Shane admitted that Rose convinced him to hire a stylist, which made Ilya laugh. They shot the shit at the bar like real friends who could be seen in public until they heard, well, a drunk man walking through a bar the way drunk men do.

"What do we have here, fellas, Magnum, P.I. and Miami Vice? Ilya, you need a mustache to pull of that shirt!" Carter Vaughan shouted between their heads. "Look at you fuckin' beauties! Cats and dogs, man, cats and dogs!"

Ilya called for a bottle of water, and Hunter walked in to take Vaughan to a booth, since he couldn't trust him not to fall off a bar stool and fuck up their season.

"You think we can spend time together like this all weekend? Will anyone notice?" Ilya asked.

"Will anyone care?" Shane smiled shyly, "we're teammates now."

"Can't wait, buddy," Ilya answered, as he tipped his beer bottle to cheers Shane's.

That night, they all went out to some swanky place in Hollywood that Rose picked out. She kept talking about how it was haunted by Hollywood starlets of the past, like that made it more enticing. They sat together in a huge round booth.

Shane thought the food was weird, Ilya thought the portions were too small, but everyone thought the company was great, and the drinks free-flowing. Shane even had a second light beer to match the one he drank at the bar.

They went back to their own hotel rooms, but Shane made sure to text Ilya goodnight, and Ilya actually responded.

The next day was the skills competition, and Ilya was the fastest skater, where Shane was the most accurate shooter. All the other players and family spent the afternoon at the rooftop pool, but Shane and Ilya decided to go on one of those open-top bus tours of the city. Before they boarded, they bought big mirrored sunglasses, blue for Shane and gold for Ilya, and they both got some tall frozen drink with bendy straws. Shane wasn't sure if they would be alcoholic, and they were.

They ooed and ahhed at all the right moments with the other tourists on the bus, even stopping to take pictures with a couple of them. It was so freeing to be able to be together in public, even if they had to explain to everyone they were only letting go of the rivalry for the weekend so they could be good co-captains for All Stars.

The bus took them to a park where they could get a picture in front of the Hollywood sign. They asked for a picture together and another with everyone on the bus, including the bus driver. Some mom with a stroller took several on both of their phones. At least those didn't have to go into the locked folder; the NHL would love the goofy, family-friendly publicity.

That night, they ate dinner and hung out with their team at Mrs. Fish, a restaurant Ilya chose. It was huge and over the top with Japanese art and a massive fish tank above the tables. He chose it for the insane atmosphere, but also because it served sushi for Shane and had a tomahawk steak to satisfy even the biggest hockey player appetite.

The team walked around and looked at the art. Soon, the cocktails started flowing, and they named every fish in the fish tank after current and former players. Shane joined in and had a single mocktail, it had lemon and cucumber, and he really liked it. Ilya picked Shane's fish, it was a black fish with a yellow tail. Nobody pointed out that it was Raiders colored, but they agreed it was simple and sleek enough to be Shane. Ilya was a clown fish, of course. Ilya said there wasn't a fish old enough in the tank to be Hunter.

Since they all rode back together, they all went to their rooms together, and Shane and Ilya slept apart. Again.

The games the next day were great, and of course their team won the four-team tournament. Ilya was the first to pile onto Shane for his two goals, and he kissed Shane's helmet after the second. Shane piled onto Ilya after his three goals, but Vaughan beat him to the first celly. Ilya kissed his glove and touched Shane's back that time.

Ilya came to Shane's hotel room that night. Shane had long-since slipped him a key, so it was easy to get in. Shane was sitting on the bed and had a look.

Why would he have a look? Ilya wondered. This weekend had been perfect, and Shane got this room on a different floor from the other players so they could be loud. There was no reason to be upset.

"What is it, Hollander?"

"Can you sit?"

Ilya pulled the comfortable looking chair from the corner up to the edge of the bed, where he sat knee-to-knee with Shane. If he was getting dumped, Shane had to be able to smell his cologne and feel his breath while he did it.

Shane might pass out, or throw up, and now he could smell the pepper and citrus and juniper. But no cigarettes. Ilya hadn't smelled like them all weekend, as a matter of fact. He wondered if Ilya quit completely or just for the the tournament. Shane looked down at their feet, begging Ilya to pull his chin up. Ilya must have been able to read his mind, because he put his huge, callused hand on Shane's jaw and behind his ear, and he pivoted Shane's face up slowly.

"I don't know how to do this."

"Do what, Hollander?" Ilya asked, with fear curling around the edges of his gruff voice.

"I just have to tell you something. Just, please."

Ilya's mind raced, was he going to tell him they couldn't see each other anymore? Was something wrong with his parents? Please don't let them be sick. There's nothing in the world that can break our connection when we're in private, Ilya thought, so say it, Hollander!

Shane took a deep breath, noticed that Ilya's eyes were more green than blue in this light, almost like when he was in his Magnum shirt, and said, "Ilya, I'm gay."

Ilya laughed quietly, feeling the weight of a thousand elephants lift off his chest.

"Oh thank God, I thought you were going to tell me something bad."

"I mean, we're in the NHL," Shane answered. "I can't be gay. There aren't gay players in the NHL."

"No, none publicly. But statistically there should be several." Ilya responded, "approximately 6% of the adult male population identifies as gay, bisexual, or some other identity in the LGBTQIA+ community. There are 726 players on opening day rosters. That's 43 and a half players." Ilya had done the math so many times that he had it memorized. Maybe Shane was rubbing off on him.

"Who's the half player?" Shane laughed. Jesus Christ, there could be forty one or forty two others? Not just them? Who were they? They needed to create some sort of NHL Queer Collective.

"Probably a closeted bisexual in Utah," Ilya laughed.

"So, you're gay and I'm bisexual and we probably have fortyish friends we don't know yet."

Shane smiled at that through tears, "I hate that we can't be together."

"We can't." Ilya squared his jaw and clenched his teeth.

Shane could see that muscle work. He wanted to lick it, but he knew he had to have this conversation.

"But if it were different, if I was a real estate agent and you were the head of HR at some stupid company, would you want to be?"

"Why am I in HR? I'm way too interesting for HR."

"Fine, you're a supermodel and CEO of a Fortune 500 company and a vigilante like Batman in your free time, better?"

"Better."

"Would you want to be together then?"

"Yes."

"Then why can't we be together now?" Shane asked. "And don't bullshit me. I'm trying very hard and being very open here and I need you to actually tell me why. Please."

"Well, the NHL would shit a brick." Shane's eyes widened at that. Ilya rolled his eyes, "Marley taught me phrase. Anyway. The NHL would shit a brick, but we would probably be ok. LGBT is protected class in US and Canada. I had my lawyer check during rookie season."

"Okay, that doesn't sound like a barrier. What else?"

"The laws in Russia, have gotten worse since I've been here. I still have Russian passport, which I need. For my job. We fly in and out of Canada and U.S. almost every day."

"What about the laws in Russia? What would happen?"

"I don't want to know."

"Well I need to know. So I can understand." Shane answered, determined to figure this out.

"I'm not really sure. Some people get jailed, some get fines, they could take away my passport so I can't travel. People who work closely with Putin, you know who he is?"

Shane nodded.

"People who work closely with him fall out of windows a lot. I don't want to know what would happen to me. I could never, ever go back."

"So we need to get you an immigration lawyer just in case. Do you think you could have dual citizenship?"

"I don't know. Maybe that would help. I'll ask my lawyer."

"Is that it? Would that fix it?"

"That is why I acted how I did in Russia," Ilya tried to explain. Maybe Shane didn't get it in 2014. "I could not let the people watching see us together or read our texts."

"What the fuck?"

"You did not see man down hall behind you. He was watching. I had to keep you safe, even if it hurt." He took a deep breath. Might as well tell him everything, he thought. "I know they tracked my phone. I threw it away as soon as I got to airport in Russia and bought new in airport in Boston. Paid way too much, but did not want to be tracked."

"They followed you? They fucking tracked you?" Shane was indignant and picturing himself as an action hero mowing down everyone in Russia who could hurt Ilya.

"Tracked me, watched me, tried to dope me," Ilya blurted. "They do not have same laws as United States and Canada. Is very dangerous."

"Jesus Christ, Rozanov." Shane breathed deeply and continued, "Is that it?"

Ilya sniffed, "My father would hate it. He would disown me."

"You don't need an inheritance. Shouldn't he learn to love you? What about your mother? She would love you."

"She's dead." And to keep Shane from expressing sympathy he couldn't handle right now, "He should, but he's sick."

"Sick how? Like an asshole?"

Ilya nodded a bit, then stared past Shane, willing himself not to cry. "No, like," he took a breath. He was going to have to admit it to someone on this continent eventually. The doctors confirmed. He'd been in ongoing treatment for years. It was bad now. "Dementia." Ilya couldn't hold the tears back any longer, so he looked away as they started to fall.

Shane immediately pulled him into a hug, then turned them around and sat Ilya on the bed. He climbed into Ilya's lap and held him while he cried. Shane cried, too. He cried for Ilya's losses, for their closeness, out of relief that he now knew the obstacles he needed to tackle, and out of fear of losing this beautiful man with strong arms, a soft heart, and, let's be honest, the perfect dick.

Ilya must be able to read his mind, because he sniffed, wiped his tears, and laughed. "We were supposed to be fucking, not crying. This is not how All-Stars was supposed to go."

Shane leaned down and kissed Ilya deeply. Their tears mingled on their cheeks as their tongues writhed together in each others' mouths. Their kisses started out gently, but quickly grew to a desperate tangle. Shane shoved Ilya's shirt over his head and reached his hands into his pants. Ilya pulled Shane's collar down so he could kiss his pecs until he could get Shane's shirt off. Shane stood and threw his clothes into the corner, not caring if they would be wrinkled later. Ilya did the same, and Shane shoved him back onto the bed. They crawled up to the headboard like that, Ilya on his back and Shane above, kissing and grabbing everything they could as they went.

Ilya kissed down Shane's chest and sucked one of Shane's nipples into his mouth, biting it gently. He grabbed Shane's other pec and kneaded it in his right hand. He loved the feeling of the soft skin and rock hard muscles underneath. Shane rubbed his hard dick against Ilya's then clamped his thighs onto his hips. He grabbed Ilya's shoulders and slung himself backward, flipping Ilya onto him.

"Fuck. My. Throat." Shane demanded, as he hung his head over the side of the hotel bed.

Ilya was shocked to hear Shane demand anything during sex and was so turned on he almost came across his stomach. He scrambled to the side of the bed, placed his dick into Shane's mouth, then watched it press a shape into his throat. He picked up speed as Shane grabbed him behind the thighs to pull him in faster. Eventually, he placed a hand on Shane's throat to feel his cock, then he pried one of Shane's hands off his thighs and guided it to his neck so he could feel Ilya's cock through his corded muscles and tendons.

It took everything Shane had in him not to come immediately after feeling Ilya's dick move in his throat. He wished he could watch it from Ilya's perspective, because he knew it had to be hot.

He pulled off and sat up, noticing that he would definitely be hoarse in the morning. Shane looked at Ilya's cock and almost swallowed it again before sitting back on his heels and giving a gentle come hither motion. He looked up at Ilya through his black eyelashes, cocked an eyebrow, and wore a sweet smile.

Christ this is hot, Ilya thought as he crawled toward Shane. They kissed deeply, and Shane fell onto his back. He immediately started pushing Ilya's head down where he wanted it.

Ilya loved that Shane wanted to take a little control this time and immediately sucked his dick into his mouth when the got there. Shane smacked his cheek and pulled his head off his dick. Ilya looked up, confused, until Shane pushed further. Ilya grinned and happily started on his next task.

Shane pulled his legs up to his chest and grinned as he held himself open for Ilya's worship. Ilya licked and sucked and chewed on and around Shane's hole, then pressed his tongue inside, fucking it in and out.

"More," Shane demanded quietly.

His soft boy was coming back, but Ilya was going to follow directions until Shane needed him to take over. He added one slicked finger, then two. He scissored his fingers, licking Shane's hole and pressing kisses into his thighs. Ilya sucked a ball into his mouth and added a third finger, scissoring first, then pumping in and out.

Ilya sat up, rolled on a condom, and added a great deal of lube to his dick. He sucked Shane's cock into his mouth and swiped lube onto his rim. Finally, Ilya could press his cock into Shane. He pushed in gently until Shane wrapped his legs behind him and pulled him in tight.

"Fuck me hard. I need to feel it," he demanded.

Ilya grinned and flipped him onto his stomach. He pounded into Shane, watching his sweat drip from his curls onto Shane's back. When Shane started to shift, he placed one hand on his back and pushed down, then grabbed Shane's hair with the other to pull his face up and to the side, "you do not move unless I tell you to now."

Shane moaned in assent.

He kept up a punishing rhythm and reminded himself to improve his hip strength and flexibility for Shane. Soon he noticed Shane's hand reaching under him for his dick. Ilya smacked his ass, then grabbed his wrist. He twisted it behind his back, enough to make the skin pull and turn pink, but making sure not to injure him. He grabbed the other and held them there with his left hand. His right hand pulled Shane's hair straight back and then to the side, forcing him to look at the mirror next to the bed to watch Ilya slam into him. Once Shane's eyes focused and saw the beautiful beast behind him, he whimpered, "gonna come."

Ilya cautioned, "not yet," because while he was about to come, he knew Shane needed to be told to wait. "Look at yourself, the best hockey player alive, the handsomest man in the NHL, your beautiful freckles, and look at what you do to yourself to please me." Ilya praised. "This. Is. Your. Best. Skill." He punctuated each sentence with a thrust, reveling in Shane's writhing body.

Shane looked at Ilya's eyes through the mirror. "Please?" he begged quietly.

"Come for me. Come on my cock. Now," Ilya commanded, and Shane immediately let out a strangled cry as he came into the hotel bed.

Ilya held it together for one more thrust before he collapsed onto Shane's back, releasing his wrists and immediately rubbing the hair he was pulling.

Ilya softened and pulled out, rolled over and laughed, "Holy fuck!"

Shane whispered, "That was amazing. Thank you," with a smile.

Ilya got up, got them cleaned up, pulled off the dirty blanket and tucked Shane under the clean sheets. He rubbed lotion onto his wrists and kissed his hands. Ilya smoothed Shane's hair, "This okay?" he asked over and over, making sure Shane felt alright.

"This was the best night of my life," Shane answered, fuck-drunk and full of love he couldn't admit just yet. Ilya fussed over him, holding him, kissing him, and bringing him back to normal before Shane fell asleep. He held him in his arms watching him sleep for what must have been another hour before he let himself relax asleep with Shane in his arms, wondering if there was any way he could keep him forever.

Ilya stayed the night, because he couldn't care less about the walk of shame in a hotel full of hungover hockey players on paid vacation. Besides, Shane set the alarm again, in the frickin' hotel, so nobody else would be up, and they could both pretend they were going to the gym.

Ilya went back to his room, brushed his teeth and changed into workout clothes. May as well get in some cardio if it meant a chance to watch Shane in the mirror a bit longer.

Eventually, they went on their way, Shane sleeping on the plane to Montreal, and Ilya napping on the way to another warm venue in Tampa.

Mid-February 2017

Hayden and Jackie came over during a break around Valentine's day. They watched a stupid movie and drank more than a few drinks.

"We needed an excuse to hire a babysitter, and we know you're glad to have us, right Shane?" Jackie slurred, hanging onto Shane at the end of the evening. He poured them into an Uber and cleaned up.

Hayden texted "THANK YOU" the next morning, and Shane chose to believe that was because he got them in an Uber and absolutely nothing else.

That night, Shane decided that Jackie looked like she was having fun, so he drank two White Claws that she left behind. Black Cherry was pretty gross, but the Lime flavor was okay. He didn't realize how much alcohol they had in them until he realized he was sad and felt alone. Shane drunk dialed Rose.

"Rose, my friend. Turns out I don't like girls. I like guys. Well, I like one guy."

"Hi Shane, are you at home?"

"Yes, I am. I am always very safe."

"I'm glad to hear that. What's up?"

"I really like a boy and he's really cute and strong and I just like him so much."

"Shane darling, you're one of my best friends, and we keep each other's secrets. I will keep your secret. But are you sure you want to tell me this?"

"Yes, Rose, I might never have the guts to say this again. You won't tell, right? It's so good when we're together."

"When you and the cute boy are together? Have you kissed him?"

"The orgasms are mind-blowing. He takes me out of my head, tells me what to do and how to think for a few hours, he protects me and holds me and brings me back to normal. And his kisses. I didn't know anyone kissed like that."

"Shane, babe, I love you. And because I love you, I'm going to tell you to go to sleep now, okay? Will you take me to your kitchen first to get a glass of water?"

"Okay, I love you, too." Shane drank a glass of lukewarm tap water, even though there was filtered water at the tap and in the fridge.

"Good boy, now take a Tylenol."

She heard him fumble around, and say, "Uh oh! Whew! Never mind." Then she heard him swallow the pills. "Done."

"Okay Shane, take me to your bathroom and brush your teeth. But MUTE YOUR PHONE when you pee. I don't need to hear that."

"On it." Shane followed directions wonderfully for a drunk man.

"Shane, I need you to put on some jammies and get into bed, okay?"

"Uh huh," he grunted, as he was obviously changing, and falling over, on speaker phone. He sighed as he got under the covers.

"You're in bed now, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"Sweet dreams, and if you still want to tell me, you call me in the morning, okay babe?"

"Night night, Rose."

Shane woke up a little groggy, but no hangover. Rose helped him so much. He still wanted to tell her. So he got dressed and went to the gym for a quick run on the treadmill. He still wanted to talk about it. He made a green smoothie. He added pineapple, just in case, and waggled his eyebrows like Ilya.

Gross, dude, he thought to himself. But he still wanted to tell her. He needed to get to the rink by noon for practice, so at 11:01 exactly, he called Rose.

"I still wanted to tell you."

"Good morning to you, how are you feeling?" she asked.

"Fine. Thank you for making me drink water and take Tylenol last night. You're a real friend."

"Any time, truly. Now I'll caution you one more time, I will not share your secret, but are you sure you want to talk to me about this boy?"

"Yes. Did I tell you about his kisses, Rose? They're the best kisses I've ever felt."

"You know our kiss wasn't great."

"Yeah it wasn't great, but I'm glad we tried," Shane admitted. "You're great, and I'm sure you're a great kisser. Just…"

"Just not for you. Same, bud. That's why we're great best friends."

"His are. Great, that is. He's soft and gentle, hard and assertive, and so hot. Like looks and temperature," Shane couldn't stop himself even if he wanted to. "And God he smells so good, like pepper and citrus and juniper. And sometimes the kisses taste like cigarettes, and if you tell anyone this ever, I'll say you're lying, but I love when he tastes like cigarettes, too. I don't want him to smoke, but the flavor is just him."

Rose smiled, and Shane continued, "I love to listen to him speak. His accent is so sexy. You wouldn't think so, but it rolls and curves, and his voice is like velvet and iron."

Rose said, "uh, Shane?"

He continued, ignoring her. "Iron is a perfect description," he babbled, almost surprised at the revelation. "It's forged in fire from natural materials, it bends and accommodates with the correct heat, but it is unmoving. It even shatters, if it's cold. It's smooth and strong, but the texture of its creation is still there. It rusts if not cared for. He is iron."

"That's really beautiful, Shane. It sounds like he means so much to you."

"I love hi—" he cleared his throat, "I love his dick. I've never gotten to tell anyone how big it is. It's huge, Rose. I didn't think it would fit, but it does. It's like we were made for each other."

"Oh my God. None of my other gay boyfriends have told me about penis size!"

"Well, it's impressive."

"So you lo—like this boy a lot. Why aren't you together, even if you're not out?"

"We can't. The NHL can't have gay players, although he did the math and there should be about 43 and a half gay, bi, and pan players based on statistics and league size."

"Oh my God," Rose laughed.

"And he's from a place where it's not safe to be gay." Shane breathes deeply, "His family. They're really shitty to him. I just found out his mom is dead. Why didn't he tell me before? And his dad is sick, really sick, I don't think he remembers him anymore. Except I heard him call him lazy once. And he's not lazy, Rose, he's one of the hardest working people I've ever met. He learned English and he's an amazing athlete, great at what he does, maybe the best."

"Until you tell me, I refuse to guess who this big-dick hottie is, and I will not share this with anyone. But I hope you two can figure it out, even if you have to stay private."

"Thank you Rose. I just wish we could be together. What can I do so we can be together?"

"If he won't come out for you, is it worth it?"

"It is. He is. I think he's it, Rose. I don't know how to change things, but I think he's my person."

"Oh Shaney, I love you so much, I'm so proud of you."

"I want to tell him. I want to tell him how much he means and that I would do anything I could to be with him and still be in the NHL. I want to find a way to be together more," Shane trailed off for a second. "How can we be together more?" he asked, almost childlike.

"Maybe," she paused for dramatic effect, she was an actor. "Maybe you should tell him this. And ask him."

February 26, 2017 

Shane was getting ready in the visitor's dressing room in Minnesota. The team was doing its normal bullshitting while getting ready for the night's game. It should be a win, but Shane was about to put in his earbuds, listen to white noise, and focus on the three periods. Ilya was supposed to be in Nashville. They texted more often, but not daily, and he hadn't heard from Ilya that day.

"He did not get on ze plane to Nashveel" said J.J. in is Quebecois accent.

"Who didn't?" Shane asked.

"Rozanov," someone answered, but Shane was too distracted to distinguish who. "ESPN is saying he did not get on the plane to Nashville, did not travel with the team, and was not there."

The team speculated, and talked plenty of shit, but Shane immediately texted Lily.

6:04 p.m.

Hey Lily. Is everything ok?

They're saying you didn't fly to work today.

Call me whenever you get a chance. I'll be out of my game in three hours. I just want to make sure you're okay.

He didn't hear back that night or the next day. He called and heard an absurd outgoing voicemail message. "Hey man, it's Shane. Are you ok? I don't know where you are. I guess, call me if you can."

One day later, Ilya called. He explained that he was in Moscow because his father died.

"Oh Ilya, I'm so sorry," Shane answered. Ilya planned to return by the end of the week.

"Well, if you need anything, call me. Any time. If I'm not at work, I'll answer."

The next night, Ilya called Shane while he was in the hotel room with Hayden, who gave him just a little bit of shit as he ran out of the room almost as soon as the phone rang. They talked for awhile, and he asked Ilya if he wanted to talk about his dad.

Ilya tried for a minute to explain how he felt and what was happening, but eventually realized he just couldn't translate this to English.

"Why don't you tell me in Russian? I won't understand, but at least you'll have someone to talk to who's on your side."

Shane didn't know what he was saying. He just pictured iron and velvet like he talked about with Rose. Rolling, curving, ironwork, with sharp points when he could tell Ilya was mad. Shane could feel the pebbled surface beneath his fingertips, and the longer Ilya spoke, the warmth of Ilya's voice surrounded him with velvet and cashmere. When he cried, Shane instinctively reached out to hold him again. It felt like they were dancing on moonlight with the ebbs and flows of what Ilya was saying.

Chapter 10

Chapter Summary

We're headed to the cottage!

Is there enough lube in all of Canada?

March 20, 2017

Shane skated up to Ilya at the center line in Montreal. "Tonight?"

Ilya nodded and made a goofy face, making them both laugh.

"I'll text you the code for the front door," Shane whispered before skating back to Hayden.

"What the fuck, man?" Hayden demanded." First you look like best friends in L.A. at the All-Star Game, and now you're speaking and laughing before a game?"

Shane explained he was offering condolences. They agreed that Ilya was an asshole, but mostly for show. Time to fucking win.

Shane didn't remember how far into the game it was, but one minute he was skating, and the next minute someone was rolling him, on his back, through the halls of the Bell Center.

What the fuck was happening? Someone tell Ilya he was fine. He needed to see Ilya. They were supposed to be together tonight, and it was going to be different. Ilya was supposed to tell him some of what he said in Russia.

Once he was settled in a hospital room, nobody would give Shane his phone, not even his mom.

Hayden visited first, and Shane asked him for a favor. "I need you to text Lily. Tell her I'm ok. Don't scroll up, don't save her number, just text her that. Please."

11:04 p.m.

Hey Lily, it's Hayden, Shane's friend

He asked me to text you and tell you he's ok

He's at Montreal General in room 1410

11:05 p.m.

thx

"She said thanks." Hayden didn't tell Shane that he texted Jackie Lily's number, just in case something like this ever happened again. They both promised to never use it otherwise.

Captains do it all the time, Ilya thought to himself. It was the right thing to do, to visit an injured captain. Nobody would think anything of it. You just had fun, publicly, at the All-Star Game.

The next morning, Shane was finally alone and Ilya entered his hospital room.

"Ilya, I'm so glad you're heeeeeeeeere," Shane sang. "Come, come, I have a question. It's a secret," he stage whispered while wiggling his fingers toward Ilya.

Ilya knew he had to stop this. They couldn't be seen together. He couldn't let this drugged up imbecile accidentally out them. Wait, when did he learn the word imbecile? He rushed to Shane's side and immediately tangled his fingers into Shane's. Was this the first time they ever held hands? He would have to try it again when Shane was fully himself. No. He had to stop.

"Ilya, stop thinking so much. You look like me," Shane kept grinning and singing. Ilya laughed at his self-awareness. "Ilya, I need you to come with me this summer. You don't have to go to Russia. Come to my cottage. I want to show you my favorite place. Just you and me. Please?"

"I really shouldn't. We can't be seen together."

"It's completely private. I have a gate and a long driveway and nobody can see the house or the dock. There's a practice facility. I just want you to see it," Shane practically begged.

"Okay, Shane," Ilya eventually relented. "I'll come. Just us?"

"I'll make sure my parents call if they come to visit."

Ilya chuckled and told Shane he would see him soon, patted his leg, and left the hospital room with a spring in his step.

May 2017

"Ilya is hurt," Yuna said matter-of-factly, with a tinge of sadness in her voice. "He's favoring his ribs on his right side. I hate that he won't make it past this round, but at least it's finally Scott Hunter's year."

"She really is a witch, huh?" David commented. Shane smiled back, and David winked, knowingly.

Shane changed the subject, "Ilya is coming when his season ends. He's going to stay at the cottage with me all summer. We're going to find out if it's real."

"What?" David asked.

"Yes, he's coming. So you know what that means?"

"We get to see him!" cheered Yuna.

"Yes, but only after you call, speak to one of us, and we approve a time for you to come over. No surprise visits," Shane admonished. "I don't care if you need something from my cottage, have tons of extra food, or there is a zombie apocalypse. This might be our last shot."

"Of course, sweetie. Maybe we can schedule a weekly dinner like normal. Thursday nights and Sunday afternoons."

"That's twice weekly." And then in response to Yuna's unimpressed stare, Shane said, "We'll talk about it."

________

Ilya's season ended about an hour later. Fuck, he was pissed, but his ribs needed the break. He saw the trainer before leaving that night, and set up a treatment plan for the next week before they all went their separate ways for summer. Shane would follow whatever additional plans the trainer sent with Ilya, so he just needed it on paper.

________

Fifteen days after that, Ilya, Shane, Yuna, and David were watching the Stanley Cup finals together at Shane's parents' house, which they regrettably agreed to do before their trip to the cottage.

Shane had picked Ilya up two hours before the game. Ilya strode across the airport parking lot in a black shirt with the sleeves cut off, sunglasses, and a hat. His black jeans were begging his thick hockey thighs for mercy when he was standing still. As he began to walk towards him, Shane wondered if they would shred like the Hulk's or cling to the most perfect legs ever made.

Shane couldn't wait until they got to the cottage after the finals, and he took Ilya for a quick make-out session in that same park and ride parking lot. It wasn't Christmas Eve, so when they heard the crunch of another car's tires on the gravel, Shane climbed into Ilya's lap and kissed him deeply. They hoped the rental car and Ilya's hand over their faces was enough to disguise who they were.

The Admirals shut out that gross team from Vegas, and Scott Hunter and Carter Vaughan each scored. Ilya complained about Hunter being a dinosaur, and then said the Admirals won because Hunter and Carter had both played on the All-Star team with him and Shane. They left the TV on to watch the Cup ceremony, but helped Yuna clean up the snacks (carrot sticks with hummus, plain and candied popcorn, and Doritos and mini Reese's cups for Ilya) when Yuna said, "What is he doing?"

Hunter was waving into the crowd. The camera followed a short king in a jean jacket with white socks and black shoes.

"I thought only Shane wore that combination," Ilya chirped. Shane shoved him in the shoulder, but none of them tore their eyes away from the TV. Eventually the man made it down to the ice, and Scott held his hands.

"Is no way. Dinosaur is too old for sexual feelings."

"Hey now!" Yuna and David responded simultaneously. Shane just grimaced and looked back at the TV, where Scott Hunter was kissing the man! They were making out on the ice.

"He's very brave," commented Yuna, quietly.

"There's another of the forty three," laughed Ilya.

"And a half," responded Shane, in awe.

It was another hour before they could get everything cleaned up and stop talking about Hunter, but Shane finally pulled up to the gates at the cottage.

Ilya saw modest iron gates with 10 foot tall sturdy stone pillars, and the gates glided open with a remote or key pad. Shane had made sure to fit them with solar panels so he did not have to open them manually during power outages.

Ilya sat quietly in the passenger seat as they drove down the long driveway through the forest. Shane explained that the property was nearly a half mile across in both directions. It was clear that he prioritized privacy when he bought it. "That big barn is the practice facility. I'm pretty proud of it."

When they entered the cottage, Shane started rattling off facts about the water and the well he had dug, "It's artesian, so it goes below the normal water table. There should be water forever."

Ilya laughed with delight at his adorable, brilliant, hunky hockey player boyfriend. Boyfriend? Yes, I think so. Will confirm soon, he thought, before he pulled him in for a languorous kiss in front of the picture windows. They got as far as the primary bedroom before they shared blow jobs in bright sunlight. Ilya could get used to not having to hide.

"I want to take you on a tour. I'm really proud of the cottage, and I think you'll like parts of it."

"I do not think you know the meaning of that word, cottage," Ilya laughed as he looked around at the huge, impressive home, then slung his arm over Shane's shoulder to follow.

Shane rolled his eyes and leaned into Ilya's side, tangling their left fingers together. "First the outdoor space. It's 135 acres, so we can build walking and running trails where nobody will bother us. The dock is great for swimming, but just past the inlet is a boathouse; I'll show you that soon."

Ilya smiled at Shane's use of "we" and figured it was unintentional.

"Do you think you'd rather have a big yard? Or terraced gardens? Would you rather have flowers or vegetables or something else? I haven't planned this area fully yet," Shane asked as they walked through the lawn.

They continued down a path to the right and came upon a clearing with three little houses that had the same black and wood coloring; they faced an opening in the trees overlooking the lake. There was another building off to the right, practically on the water.

"These are the bunkies. They have two bedrooms, a bathroom, sitting area, and kitchenette. I wish you had been my first guest to the cottage, but you'll be the first one sleeping in it other than me." He cleared his throat. "Unless you want to stay in one of these instead, of course."

Ilya was standing behind him and wrapped his arms around Shane's waist. He kissed his cheek and rested his chin on Shane's shoulder. "Not leaving you for whole summer."

Shane grinned, grabbed his hand, and ran to give Ilya a tour of one of the bunkies. "What do you think, should we screen in the porches? It would detract a little bit from the modern look, but would give more places to hang out during black fly season." Ilya just beamed at Shane's use of "we."

"I think we should fuck in each bed and on every single couch."

"I do, too," Shane agreed eagerly. "Nobody has stayed in the third one yet, so we'll definitely be the first."

"Go. Now." He grabbed Shane's sides to direct him to the third bunkie.

"Not before I show you this!" Shane shouted as he ran away from Ilya's tickles.

The boathouse was large, two stories, again in wood and black. Every angle was square, with a large deck over the water. Shane had six modern loungers waiting for sunbathers. There was an opening to the left where two boats could dock or dry dock inside the building, a mechanical room and workshop that would make most carpenters jealous, and an open plan entertaining space behind.

The back of the great room had solid glass walls and huge sliders like the main house, except instead of overlooking the lake, they gave a view of the rocky outcrop behind the building. It made the space feel cozy and protected, but still allowed warm light in. Ilya couldn't imagine a better architectural metaphor for Shane.

"So there's space for two boats and 10 kayaks and 10 paddleboards. Technically I can house 24 or more people here, but I figured 10 of each was enough. And I didn't know if you'd want a speedboat for tubing, skiing, and wakeboarding, or just a boat to float around and fish from." Shane took a breath. "What do you think so far? Do you like it here?"

What he really meant was, do you like it here? Could you live here? Could you love it here? Could you love me?

"It's perfect, Shane," Ilya said as he wrapped him up, grabbed his chin, and kissed him deeply. "You're perfect," he said in Russian. Shane nuzzled his cheek and buried his face in the crook of his neck, silently begging him to say more in Russian. It didn't matter if he was listing characters from his favorite TV show. It sounded like heaven to Shane.

"I'll show you the practice facility in the morning," Shane smiled into Ilya's neck. "I still have to work out, of course."

"Of course," Ilya laughed quietly. God Shane was delightful.

"But do you want to see the rest of the outside area for the main house and grill something for dinner?"

"Dessert first?"

"After the tour, then dessert first."

"And again after dinner."

Shane laughed and led Ilya up another path that was closer to the swimming inlet and small dock.

"This is the patio. I wanted to make sure it was big enough to build an outdoor kitchen or just have a grill like I do now," Shane explained. "Do you like to grill? I've never made barbecue like they do on those competition shows, but I can grill a hamburger. I thought about building an entire outdoor kitchen here, with a huge gas grill, and a smoker, and a pizza oven. There's room for a food refrigerator and a beer fridge and a 10' stainless steel countertop. It would be best with some sort of protective cover for winter. I can have the designer figure that out. Would you prefer that to the standalone grill?" Shane, shut up about what Ilya wants, he thought. You can't propose marriage on your, what, fifth date? "I knew I wanted a fire pit, because it's one of my favorite things to do in the evenings here. It's set up for gas or wood, depending on how much effort we want to put in."

Ilya did want an outdoor kitchen. He had never cooked on a grill, but he could picture himself in a cheesy 'Kiss the Chef' apron, beer in one hand, spatula in the other, maybe sneaking a piece of burger to a couple of adorable dogs. Would Shane like a dog? Would he even let one in the house? he wondered.

"Those doors are to the other bedrooms, both on the lower level with lake views. And around the corner, this is the outdoor shower."

Ilya pulled Shane into the enclosed shower area and immediately kissed him and shoved his hands into his pants, palming Shane's half-hard dick. Shane moaned into Ilya's mouth and started rocking his hips to meet Ilya's hands, then pulled both their shorts down. Shane reached into the shower caddy where he had biodegradable shampoo, conditioner, soap, and a hidden bottle of lube. Ilya was never so glad to have a secret freak for a boyfriend. He reminded himself to ask about that later, and immediately forgot as Shane wrapped his lubed-up hands around their cocks. He stroked slowly, reaching down to cup Ilya's balls and rub that sensitive spot behind them. Ilya poured lube into his left hand, grabbing their cocks below where Shane was teasing his sensitive head, and squeezed a little firmer. With his right hand, he pulled up Shane's shirt so he could lick the light sheen of sweat from his abs. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and gently bit it, teasing it with his tongue.

"Mine," he said, then stood up to kiss Shane's neck. "Mine." Then his jaw. Ilya whispered into Shane's ear, "mine."

Shane kissed Ilya's neck and ears and face, anything he could get his lips on while trying to stay upright. He felt Ilya shove him against the wall of the house, lightheaded. He called me his, Shane thought, I am his. Forever, if he asks.

"Yours," Shane half moaned, half shouted as he came all over his stomach and Ilya's shirt. Ilya didn't survive the entire syllable of "yours" before his release mixed with Shane's. They held each other, kissing slowly, as they came down from their orgasms.

"At least we're in shower," Ilya chuckled as he turned on the warm water to wash them both clean.

After more scrubbing and lazy kisses, Shane turned and opened the back door of the shower. "I added a dog washing station in case we, um, I get a dog in the future."

"You would have dog?" Ilya asked, trying to hide the excitement and incredulity in his voice.

"I mean, yeah, if the right person wanted one and we could have great sitters for when we're on roadies, and it was well trained and didn't shed much," Shane answered. "And it could absolutely not be named after a hockey great."

Ilya's heart was pounding out of his chest, and it took everything in him not to drop down to one knee and propose right then and there. A dog! Together!

________

They grilled burgers that night. Shane told Ilya that he wanted to try to make barbecue, probably like the vinegary pork they eat in Carolina and D.C. He found a recipe online and bought the smoker attachment. It should only take 15 hours, he explained. Ilya marveled at the fact that they would have 15 uninterrupted hours together, and nearly as many weeks that summer.

That night was Ilya's first night around the fire pit. He pretended it seemed boring, but loved the idea of just sitting with Shane, cuddling against the cool of the night. Eventually, he ended up with his head in Shane's lap, curled under a plaid blanket.

They talked about their favorite parts of the day and the cottage. Ilya told Shane that his mama would have loved to plant a vegetable garden with marigolds.

"How, uh, how did your mother die?" Shane asked, reluctantly.

Ilya explained that at twelve, he came home to his mother dead on the floor after suicide. His father told him that day to only ever say it was an accident. They could not admit weakness, even in her death. He talked about how much he missed her, that he speaks to her at sunrise and loves the rock overlooking the inlet for a place to greet her.

Ilya told Shane that Irina was the first person to know he was in love. He wasn't sure Shane understood his accidental confession, but he wasn't taking it back. He explained that his only regret leaving Russia was that he would never see her grave again.

Shane promised Ilya that if he wanted, they would find a place at the cottage to memorialize her. If he wanted to carve her name into his favorite rock at the water, or build a garden, or a huge granite monument. He asked Ilya to spend the summer finding the perfect place and way to honor her so he always had a place to visit her.

Ilya wasn't sure he could love someone more, but he promised to spend every day for the rest of his life making sure Shane knew. He agreed with himself at that moment that this was his forever if Shane would have him, and he was so grateful.

They cuddled and kissed until the fire was almost dead. Shane poured water on the embers and tucked them into bed, where they fell fast asleep, tangled up in each other.

________

Ilya woke up on his back with his head on the most perfect pecs and his hand was holding the best ass he'd ever felt. The sun shone gold and pink into the room, filtered through the trees next to the inlet on the lake. "Good morning," Ilya looked up at Shane and whispered sleepily. "No alarm?"

"Not on vacation. The sun will wake us up wherever we are," Shane kissed Ilya's forehead. He had long since kicked all the blankets off, except a soft sheet over their middles. Shane hoped one day that he'd get to wake up in this sweaty, tangled mess every day for the rest of his life.

"I like waking up to my boyfriend," Ilya smiled.

"Boyfriend?"

"Yes, I think so, if you want."

"I want." Shane beamed, eyes glossy, as he wrapped his arms around Ilya's chest. They fell back asleep, just like that.

________

Shane was excited to show Ilya the training facility he built for them. For him and his boyfriend! He almost pinched himself to make sure it was real. They walked down the gravel path which opened up to a small lot to park four cars, with a massive building designed to look like an old barn in behind.

The modern glass doors could be mirrored or transparent with the flick of a switch, so Shane could work out in private if he wanted. Inside, the main space had sleek wood paneling, and most of the right side of the building was a regulation sized rink with synthetic ice, real boards, plexi barriers, and appropriate markings on the ice surface. Ilya noticed that Shane did not put the Metros logo at center ice. Outside the boards, Shane must have had 20 pairs of skates and roller blades and as many sticks and helmets. He showed Ilya a black pair of Bauer Vapor Fly-Lites customized to Ilya's preferences. The tongue of the skates said "81 Rozanov." Ilya was shocked and delighted.

To the left was a gym space that would make most personal trainers jealous. There were a pair of treadmills, bikes, row ergs, ski ergs, and several weights options in front of a mirrored wall.

"I added the stair climbers this year. My new trainer pointed out the relative low-impact benefits, plus it lets me keep my hockey butt during the off-season," Ilya smacked Shane's ass, then squeezed it a few times before letting go. "Before we go upstairs, look at this!"

Shane pulled a handle that was the color of the wall and opened the door to a massive bathroom. The walls and floors were tiled in classic white subway tile. Shane pointed out two, side-by-side six-person saunas with a glass door separating them.

"There's a door direct to outside if you want to hop in the snow in winter, but no cold plunge. Science hasn't really backed up its benefits yet."

Ilya snorted at Shane's recovery knowledge.

"Those are the water closets, each has its own sink," he explained, pointing at four matching doors. Ilya looked inside, and the water closets were bigger than his bathroom in Moscow!

"And this might be my favorite part," Shane said hopefully, as he pulled Ilya behind the large wall at the back of the bathroom. The subway tile covered every surface in this room, walls, floor, even had three barrel vaults in the ceiling, which pointed to the huge picture window looking into the woods, and behind them, six shower stations. They didn't just have a single shower head like locker rooms. The six stations each had multiple jets.

"You were planning swingers convention here?" Ilya scoffed.

"Ha, I get it, but no. Look!" Shane pressed a button and the picture window went darker. "I just made it mirrored outside, just like the other windows. And I figured why make shower stalls here when we shower together as teammates all the time. There are two private stalls over there," he pointed behind him. "But I thought you and I might… enjoy this shower one day. Maybe even sit outside while the other showers, who knows."

Ilya couldn't take another minute and pressed Shane against the shower wall. He dropped to his knees and took him in his mouth. He had learned a new word for a crossword puzzle recently and put it to good use. He exalted Shane's cock, licking a wide stripe on the underside, sucking it down, drooling and using his spit to pump the length he couldn't swallow easily.

Shane's pretty moans echoed off the tile of the shower area, and Ilya thanked the architect for amazing acoustics. Ilya swirled his tongue around Shane's head, greedily lapping up all his glorious, salty pre-come.

Shane couldn't believe his luck or how much he enjoyed his sounds in this bathroom. Ilya's mouth made delectable sucking and squelching noises that echoed around him, but Shane loved his small moans and breaths the most.

Ilya pulled back and drooled onto his left hand, and pressed two wet fingers against Shane's entrance, alternating a 'come here' rhythm with both on the outside of his hole. That was enough, and Shane shouted as he emptied into Ilya's mouth.

He recovered quickly so that he could push Ilya onto the bench in the double-sauna and immediately return the favor. He licked up Ilya's shaft, then swallowed him down until he gagged. Shane loved feeling out of control for a second, unsure whether his skilled throat could take him as deep again.

He pulled off of Ilya's cock and looked up with tears in his eyes, "I want your cock in my mouth until my throat memorizes the veins." Then he smirked, blinked, and swallowed Ilya back down.

Ilya immediately started doing his times tables to keep from spurting on Shane's face before he got back into his mouth. A few strokes later, Ilya shuddered down his throat.

Shane reminded himself to do this again after the room smelled of sweat, heat, and humidity to see if it made Ilya's intoxicating scent even better.

"Whatever I did to deserve your freak, I would do it again a million more times," Ilya said as he smiled into a kiss that tasted like both of them.

________

Shane eventually led Ilya up a double-wide industrial looking staircase to the loft area. It was painted a deep olive green, and it gave Ilya a closer look at the underside of the steeply-peaked roof. The railing was glass, offering an unobstructed view out of the picture window that looked over a garden, and through the trees, Ilya figured he could see the lake in winter. There were yoga mats, blocks, straps, blankets, and a soft, clean smell.

"I use diffuser sticks up here. There's an automatic deodorizer thing downstairs, I don't understand how it works, but it helps a lot. Up here, I just wanted it to smell like a spa." Shane pointed out the ambient lighting with independent controls, the Bluetooth surround sound system, and he pointed Ilya at what he figured Ilya would think was the pièce de résistance.

"Shane, that is Jumbotron!" Ilya practically squealed.

Shane grinned, even happier than ever that he had it installed. "It's 4K, and is attached to the surround sound. The plexi can be dropped and ice covered so we could have a movie night if you want."

"I want." Ilya had tears in his eyes. Shane didn't watch TV! Ilya thought to himself. Did he plan this? "Hollander, that TV is huge. You don't really watch anything but game film."

"No, but you do," he answered. "And I love you." Ilya's eyes widened. "I mean, shit." Shane stumbled over his words.

Ilya nearly wept from joy as he took Shane's face into both hands and leaned his forehead against the man's who changed his life. "I love you, too, Shane," he sniffed, then captured his mouth in a kiss.

________

They woke up the next morning, tangled up in the pink light of dawn.

"You really bought big TV and built dog washing station for me?"

"I hoped it would be for you," Shane admitted. "I thought of you the whole time I was building it. 'I wonder if Ilya would like this couch. Will he like the black and wood or would he want everything painted dark red? I hope Ilya likes the well water, but if not, we'll get a second filtration system. Would he be happy out here away from the city? Would he live here one day?'"

"How did we get so lucky?" Ilya choked out.

"I still have one more place to show you, and of course all the woods to build trails through."

After some morning recreation, a workout, because he is Shane Hollander after all, and breakfast, Shane took Ilya to show him his last surprise. He had the architect tuck it behind trees off to the other side of the house from the main driveway, both to preserve the views and because he wanted it to be a surprise for Ilya.

"So there's a single garage stall under the house, which you've seen. But I thought you might like this …" Shane motioned to the six-car garage which sat empty other than a four-wheeler, the Jet-Skis Ilya bought him, and the rock to build Ilya's outdoor kitchen. Each bay was large enough for an RV or one of those silly car elevators. Technically he could house 24 cars in the building, but he chose not to tell Ilya that.

"We can store the Jet-Skis in one bay in the winter, but I figured, since you love cars so much," Shane trailed off. "It was always going to be good for resale, even if I don't plan on leaving. And guests can park there when they come to visit." Shane was rambling, because Ilya hadn't said a thing.

"You made space for my cars? Dog and TV and cars?" Ilya asked through tears. Shane thought about proposing then and there, but reminded himself that nobody could know about their relationship except for his parents, and hopefully eventually Hayden and Jackie, and maybe Rose and Svetlana.

They were in a relationship! Even if it was secret, it was the happiest Shane had ever felt.

________

Yuna and David came the next night for dinner. They called and texted, scheduled the visit, and still called when leaving their cottage and again at the gate. Shane designed a special alarm for their gate key fob, so he knew they pulled up even if they didn't call. Shane was able to swallow Ilya's release just before he answered the phone.

Yuna and David collapsed onto Ilya, hugging him from both sides. He reminded himself that it was okay to feel their joy and love, that he was safe here. That he was with family here.

They grilled steaks and vegetables on kabobs. Shane and Yuna had brown rice, and David and Ilya had huge baked potatoes with cheese and bacon and sour cream and chives. They shared a couple of beers and stories about how David and Yuna met. She was a first year at Brescia University College in London, Ontario, and he was a junior at McGill in Montreal. Shane explained they were two really good schools. Yuna said that she was attending Brescia as a women's university, but took a six-week internship in Montreal. She met David, fell in love, and they were long distance for two years until he could come work in London until she graduated.

After David and Yuna left, Shane asked Ilya to sit by the fire pit.

"I thought that went well. I'm glad you seem so comfortable with my parents," Shane commented. "Can you believe this all started with fake dating? To avoid a matchmaker!"

"I was never pretending. Remember, I wanted you at the CCM shoot."

"Sure, but that was just to get publicity for the rivalry, right?"

"Nope," Ilya answered, popping the 'p' sound. "I just wanted to see more of the pretty boy with beautiful freckles. And then Yuna made it too easy. Must send her fruit basket to say thank you."

Shane laughed, then shoved him, which turned into a wrestling tickle fight, and all the best things that follow.

________

Their days settled into an easy rhythm. They played video games and read books and watched movies on Netflix. They hiked through the woods to try to identify good places for trails, and kayaked, and paddle boarded. Ilya fantasized about what two boats he wanted to add to the boathouse. Most nights they sat by the fire (with marshmallows for Ilya after Yuna brought some for the first dinner together). They fucked constantly. It took them a week to christen every bed and couch in the bunkies. The boathouse was next. Shane took Ilya upstairs to show the three bedroom spaces and two baths. They fucked in the chocolate-colored glass tub against the window overlooking the lake, surrounded by battery-operated candles. Shane could never be too safe.

They started every morning with some practice on the custom synthetic ice, then went to the gym area to lift or do cardio. Ilya wished he could bend Shane over the boards in every NHL rink like he did in the practice facility, but he decided his favorite place to fuck there was in the meditation loft. They were slower, quieter, and more revelatory there.

By the second week, Shane had purchased two dozen more bottles of lube to hide around the property, and several boxes of travel packets, because they were constantly finding new places to christen.

Chapter 11

Chapter Notes

Don't worry about Amber, she'll be born next year.

The friends are coming to the cottage!
Will there be any kerfuffle?
What about with Ilya and Hayden?

During lunch one day, Shane sprung a new surprise on Ilya. "I think I want to tell our friends. Not all of them. Hayden and Jackie usually come for a couple of weeks, and I know they'd keep our secret. Rose knows how important discretion is. Maybe you could tell Svetlana, maybe even Marleau? Connors? What do you think? We could invite them all for a week or two and have a vacation and they could stay in the bunkies. Maybe Rose and Svetlana could even become friends. What do you think?"

Shane was rambling and Ilya was shocked. Tell people? Friends?

"Would you be okay with that?" he asked Ilya, then continued. "Hayden will be cool, and I think Jackie will love you. I'm not ready to tell the whole team, and I'll tell J.J. eventually, but that's enough people at once."

"Just Hayden and Jackie, Rose and Svetlana for now," Ilya answered. "Maybe Marleau, Connors, and J.J. later this summer. Okay?"

"Okay. Do you want to call them now? No time like the present."

Shane called Hayden and explained that he wanted to introduce him to his boyfriend. "I'm gay, surprise?"

Hayden laughed and told him he was excited to come with Jackie, the twins and Arthur. He knew she'd be glad to have a summer where she wasn't pregnant.

Rose was able to come for a week and was so excited to make sure she correctly identified the mystery man Shane called about.

Svetlana took a little bit of convincing. "Will a bunch of Canadians like two mean Russians?"

"Rose Landry will be here."

"Too bad we're not lesbians. She has amazing style." Of course Svetlana would be there for Ilya, just like he'd be there for her. They would always love each other.

Shane rented a pontoon boat for the rest of the summer, ordered kayaks, a 10' floating net to relax in the water (or for the kids to use as a trampoline), plus life vests for everyone. He knew the kids' vests would be too small next year, but figured Jackie would have more kids soon enough. He increased the food delivery and checked with Hayden for the girls' favorite sweets and Jackie for the food she wanted them to eat. He even ordered Dino nuggets and organic ketchup, with extra for Ilya.

________

Hayden pulled up first, and the kids sprinted to Uncle Shane for sticky hugs. Ilya stayed in the cottage so they could get their luggage to the bunkie before they met.

"Okay, are you ready to meet him?" Shane asked. "I think you'll be surprised."

"At this point, the only thing that would surprise me is if you had Ilya Rozanov in that cottage."

Shane tripped and started coughing, "what? How did you? Why would you?"

"You have got to be shitting me, man!"

Ilya saw Shane trip and immediately rushed out toward him. Seeing that he was upright and okay, he eased to a saunter and quipped, "Fifteenth best Metro. Nice to see you again."

"Jesus Christ, Rozanov?" Hayden sputtered. "Seriously, Shane?"

"Give him a couple days. You'll understand," Shane answered.

Jackie could tell by the looks on each of their faces. This was their forever, and she was excited to get to know the love of her friend's life.

Hayden and Ilya chirped while they played toddler sewer ball with the kids in the yard. The kids were squealing and laughing, and Ilya made sure to tickle them each after every celebration until they screamed, "Uncle Ilya!" in fits of laughter. Hayden probably hated him less.

A sleek black car pulled up next, and an even sleeker woman with a halo of auburn curls and sleek black summer dress slid out.

"Ilya, I think Svetlana is here!" Shane called from the patio. Ilya ran to the front door to sweep her up in a hug. Sure they used to fuck, but this was his only Russian family left, and he would always love her. They spoke Russian while unpacking her car, and Shane willed himself to not get hard at the sound. Ilya brought her to the middle bunkie and helped her get settled, then brought her back for introductions.

"It's so nice to meet you, Jane," Sveta practically purred as she shook his hand.

"Wait a minute, Jane? Hayden blurted. "Does that mean Lily is…? Oh shit Jackie, we have Ilya's number already!"

"You promised you wouldn't keep it, Hayd!" Shane practically shouted, while Jackie whispered, "I knew it!"

A luxury car service rang at the gate, and Shane let Rose and her driver in.

They were all a little bit in awe of the sorrel-haired movie star who exited the luxury vehicle like she was at a movie premiere. First they saw cork platform sandals, and as she exited, they saw slim jeans, her oversized tortoise-shell sunglasses, and a soft pink cardigan.

"Shaney! I missed you!" she yelled as she sprinted from the car towards his open arms, and immediately tripped. He caught her, both of them laughing like the best friends they were.

"You gotta watch this one, she's forever tripping and dropping things," Shane laughed. "Her entire Instagram is stuff she spilled on the floor or herself."

"Did you see the hairbrush in the toilet last week? Miles made me throw it away. Such a waste!" She grinned and hugged Shane, "I missed you so much Shaney!"

Shane tipped the driver, thanked him, and let him out of the gate. Rose crept over to Shane then whispered, "Do I finally get to meet Lily now?"

"Man, Lily never was a secret, was she?" he admitted as she grinned.

Ilya strode out of the house in his signature black tee with the sleeves cut off, and did he change into tight jeans? Shane wasn't complaining. "Rose Landry," he said, his accent thicker, rolling his Rs a little more than usual.

"Aha! I knew it was him! Shane, you pull the hottest people alive! No wonder you were never actually into me!" She laughed with glee. "I can't wait to find out all the other reasons you love him."

This softened Ilya immediately, and he gave her a big hug, followed by a little glare threatening her to never, ever hit on Shane again.

Rose doubled over in laughter and said, "Ohh you got it bad, don't you?"

Shane helped Ilya bring Rose's bags to the third bunkie. They took everyone on a tour, showing Hayden and Jackie the newest additions to the place, and asking everyone's opinions about the outdoor kitchen.

Rose linked arms with Svetlana almost immediately, and after Sveta's initial shock and Slavic stare, she softened. They agreed to compare notes about the men they loved who loved each other.

Everyone gathered around the outdoor table for a quick lunch. "Maybe next year you can share bunkie so we can invite more teammates. You don't want to be in the cottage, you'll hear us fucking!" Ilya exclaimed, and Jackie was glad that Hayden was in the bunkie with the kids, who were napping. They all laughed and threw their napkins at Ilya, calling him gross. Shane was already calling his designer and architect in his head to finish the three rooms in the boathouse.

That evening, they decided to do two FaceTime calls. Shane and Hayden headed down to the dock to call J.J. who was on vacation in Hawaii.

"Capitaine! Hayden! How are my boys? How is Canada?" They went through the usual pleasantries. It was beautiful in both places, J.J. had already gotten lei'ed and laid, everyone was having fun.

"Hey man, Shane has something to tell you," Hayden awkwardly changed the subject. "I just learned it a few hours ago."

"Uh oh, is everything okay?" J.J. asked.

"Yeah, everything is fine," Shane answered, and continued cautiously. "But, can you promise to keep this a secret? Like tell nobody other than Hayden or me ever?" Shane requested.

"Of course."

"I mean it, this is a big deal."

"I will keep your secret. We are friends, that's what friends do," J.J. answered.

"So, um, I'm gay."

"Oh, wow."

"Do you have any questions?" Shane gave him time to process before the big secret. "There's one more thing."

"No," J.J. answered. Then added, "Well, I mean, do you need anything from me?"

"At this point, just your support," said Shane, gratefully. "And of course your discretion. Well, secrecy. I can't be out."

"Right."

"And I'm in a relationship."

"Congratulations, capitaine!"

"With Ilya Rozanov," Shane added.

"What the fuck?" J.J. snorted.

"I know, man," Hayden joined in. "But it's real. I've seen them together for a couple hours already today, and it's definitely real. He's definitely here, and he's still an asshole."

"He's not an asshole," Shane interjected. "Okay he's an asshole, but you'll see. He's good to me. I promise. I love him," Shane confessed.

J.J. and Hayden agreed to keep Shane's secret and to give Rozanov a chance. Hayden promised to report back to J.J. whether Ilya was an asshole and bad for Cap.

While Shane and Hayden were calling J.J. from the dock, Ilya called Connors and Marleau from the bathroom. They ribbed him for video calling while he was pooping, then cheered him for pulling the hottest guy in the NHL. Connors reminded Ilya that he was third on that list.

"List was stupid." He reminded them that nobody could know the secret, and he promised them some time with Shane as soon as they could. They agreed no texting his name, but Marleau did text later "Montreal Jane, huh? For all these years."

________

On their third day together, Shane took Ilya, Hayden, Rose, and Hayden's twins, Emma, and Ruby out on the pontoon boat. They made sure to snug up all the life vests before boarding, and Shane was the only driver, because Jackie decided nobody else was safe enough for her babies. She and Svetlana stayed back to lay out while Arthur napped.

Shane gave a boat safety lecture that made the smooth lake and slow pontoon boat sound like an undersized vessel passing through a category 5 hurricane in the Drake Passage.

"Remember girls, boats don't have brakes, so we can't just stop immediately like in a car," he explained to the girls. Hayden didn't tell him that the girls didn't know what brakes were or how cars stopped.

The boat got to a small island in the lake, they dropped anchor and got out to explore. Everyone enjoyed a quick break climbing the smooth, slippery rocks and hanging out in the shade of the trees. Shane dropped a pin in his GPS to remember that this would be a great place for a picnic later. The girls finally slowed down a bit, so they boarded the boat and headed back for the cottage.

Hayden pointed out two loons nesting near the shore. Emma stood inside the boat, following the rules, "Ooh Ruby, look!" She pointed to the loons.

Ruby, who Hayden claimed was the worst one, immediately climbed up to the edge of the boat and leaned out over the pontoon. Before anyone could catch her, Ruby tumbled over the side of the boat and slid down the pontoon into the water.

Hayden heard the splash and immediately knew what happened before he saw her bob up to the surface. He freaked out and threw Emma into Rose's arms so he could jump in after Ruby. She was bouncing on the ripples in the lake in her tiny life vest. Thank God Shane even hooked the straps under their legs, Hayden thought.

Ruby's chestnut hair was floating on the surface, curling in the water. Her tiny arms, with half-peeled off Dora the Explorer temporary tattoos and purple glitter nail polish, were splashing as she kicked beneath the surface.

Hayden's ears burned as she screamed "Help! Daddy! I can't feel the bottom!" when he heard a big splash.

Ilya jumped in to scoop up Ruby and was brushing her hair out of her eyes while floating with her. He held her to his chest, waiting for Hayden to pull her back into the boat, then picked her up into the air toward the boat.

Hayden pulled her into the boat and fell back onto the floor, leaning against the mechanical section in the middle. He held Ruby, squeezing back tears, thankful that Shane was so adamant about boat safety.

"Daddy was right about always wearing your life vest, wasn't he?" Ilya asked Ruby, once everyone settled down. From then on, Hayden got it. Ilya was an asshole, but he wasn't just an asshole.

________

The boys and their friends spent two weeks sunning and swimming, riding the Jet-Skis and kayaking. They ate burgers and hot dogs and pasta salad and steaks, along with bass and lake trout they caught. Each morning, someone cooked a huge pile of pancakes and eggs and cut up fruit with juice and coffee, and each night they sat around the fire.

True to their word, Yuna and David only came on Thursday and Sunday, and they still called to confirm it was safe before leaving the house. Yuna baked cakes and pies and brought a package of ice cream sandwiches that were a huge hit with the kids. They sat around the table (Shane was going to have to get a bigger one next year) and ate and told stories and laughed with everyone else.

Sometimes Shane had to head out into the woods on his own, because as wonderful as it was to have such supportive friends, it was a little people-y and overwhelming. Ilya followed him at times, walking quietly behind him, or let him go alone and directed everyone else away from the woods to ensure Shane had a calming experience.

Ilya had a lot of family in Russia, but he never had a jovial family. They did not laugh or sing or play together. This new life was intoxicating. He couldn't wait for more time alone with Shane, but at the same time he hoped that the friends never left, and that the summer would never end. It was an onslaught of noise and dopamine that rivaled the biggest games in the NHL. Just a lot warmer.

When it was time to go, everyone hugged, and Rose cried, thanked Shane for his hospitality and promised to be back next year. They shared numbers and agreed no pictures of Shane or Ilya in the group photo albums. They all piled back into cars, a little bit sunburnt, tired and happy, grateful to have such a wonderful friend group brought together by their best friends.

After their friends left, Shane and Ilya called Hunter. They asked for his discretion and explained that they could not be out, but thanked him for his bravery. Ilya called him old, and they both met Kip and invited them to the cottage next summer, "if you can keep such a young, attractive man," Ilya added. Kip laughed and they both flicked him off.

________

Summer at the cottage ended like it began, slow and quiet. They cuddled and made out and blew each other and fucked and just got to know each other. There were burgers and workouts and campfires and marshmallows and more love than either thought they'd ever feel. The last night, they fell asleep in each other's arms, quietly crying, hoping the other didn't notice.

Chapter 12

Chapter Summary

One more perfect Christmas together

Chapter Notes

Fall 2017

Being apart after a summer together was the worst pain either had felt. It was a dull ache that never went away. They opened the preseason against each other on September 18, but didn't have another game until January. And unlike other seasons, where their four regular season games were scattered throughout the months, this year they had three in one week in January, and one more in March.

Over the summer, Shane and Ilya talked about future plans to be together. Ilya had already talked about joining a Canadian team, not Montreal, both to be closer and for the passport. Shane proposed a hockey school charity. After learning about Ilya's mom, he suggested they name it the Irina Foundation and give money to mental health and suicide prevention organizations. They agreed to let Yuna run with it, because neither had a question whether she could create an amazing charity.

Eventually, Shane and Ilya figured it was smartest to get Ilya traded to Ottawa. He thought about it during preseason, and decided there was too much distance between Montreal and Boston. He called Shane and confirmed that he would do it. Ilya called his agent during preseason to prepare her for the negotiations. She tried to talk him out of it, but he was unwavering. He blamed it on his desire for a Canadian passport and she pretended to understand.

Shane and Yuna started developing the Irina Foundation. She quietly registered the name and charitable designation in the U.S. and Canada. Shane's Timbits coach helped Yuna secure four weeks of ice time at the Carleton University Advanced Capital Ice House in trade for a yearly alumni booster event with active NHL players. The school would provide low-cost dorms and food to the kids during the football summer training season when staff was already on campus. Collegiate hockey players would act as counselors for the exposure to the NHL, and current and former NHL players would come to teach. They agreed to partner with the school for fundraising opportunities where boosters could fund the Irina Foundation and the school athletics in exchange for special perks at the coming-soon annual Irina Foundation golf tournament.

Ilya was amazed and impressed when they had a conference call for Yuna to propose branding colors and logos. They decided on red and black, because it incorporated colors from the Raiders, Metros, and Centaurs.

The boys texted daily and Facetimed as often as they could. Hayden knew to go for a run at certain times so that he didn't have to listen to Shane tell Ilya he loved him over and over again. Connors started carrying an extra pair of noise-cancelling headphones.

December 24, 2017

Shane had games the day before and after Thanksgiving, and Ilya played on Thanksgiving day, so they could not go home that year. But, they both had December 24th, 25th, and 26th off, and agreed they would make the most of their time together. They flew into Ottawa on Christmas Eve morning, both landing around 9 am. The airport was familiar, playing the same pop Christmas music over the same tinny speakers. Ilya noticed that the wreaths had not been updated from the previous year, which he liked.

Shane texted Ilya where he was parked, and Ilya practically ran to car to meet him. They drove directly to a luxury hotel in downtown Ottawa and Shane told Ilya to stay in the car until he received further instructions. Shane checked in, found the stairwell exit closest to the door, and met Ilya there. He took the elevator, sending Ilya up the stairs in hopes of anonymity. Once in the room, Ilya dropped a small backpack. Shane jumped into Ilya's arms, wrapping his legs around his hips, and just stared at him.

"I missed you," Shane whispered, staring at Ilya's face. "Fuck, I love you."

"I counted seconds. Now get on the bed so I can fuck you," Ilya commanded. Shane kissed him quickly and practically sprinted to the bed, laughing.

Ilya leapt on top of him and immediately peppered his face with kisses, then pulled up his shirt and blew a raspberry on Shane's stomach. Shane squealed with laughter before pulling Ilya in for a kiss. Their tongues danced, soaking in every sensation after months apart. How did they survive it? How would they survive a day apart ever again? Ilya missed this, Shane's strong hands caressing his shoulders and curling gently into his hair. They had sent each other home at the end of the summer with the other's hoodie, but it quickly lost the scent of the man. They tried spraying cologne, but it missed the pheromones and natural musk. Shane pulled away to bury his head in the crook of Ilya's neck and breathe in his natural scent, "I need this hoodie, too."

Their hardening cocks rubbed together as their tongues and lips explored the familiar landscapes of corded necks and sharp jawlines. Ilya paused to ask, "has anyone ever told you you have the most beautiful freckles?" and Shane whispered back, "only you."

Eventually they shucked their hoodies and t-shirts. Shane flipped Ilya onto his back and just smiled at his gorgeous boyfriend. He traced his fingers across Ilya's strong brow and high cheekbones, then down the bridge of his nose. He ran his thumb across his lips and leaned in to peck at the Cupid's bow.

"You really do look like a statue carved by Michelangelo," he whispered, amazed. Shane continued tracing Ilya's sinewy neck and prominent collar bones, then down the center of his pecs, and smiled as Ilya gasped when he ran his fingers lightly across his nipple. Shane's hands followed the dips and cuts in Ilya's impressive shoulder and arm muscles. When he reached his hands, Shane intertwined their fingers and eased into another deep kiss.

Ilya stood up and pulled Shane to follow. He led him to the shower to wash off the airport grime and worship his body some more. They used the suds as lube while Ilya eased his hard cock between Shane's legs from behind, slowly grinding and swaying together. They eventually rinsed and dried off.

"Get on the bed," Ilya commanded, "on your knees." Shane sat back on his heels on the edge of the bed with his hands behind his back, waiting for Ilya to approach.

"Such a good boy for me," he whispered as Shane practically vibrated with anticipation. "I think you want to suck my cock." Ilya placed his cock on Shane's waiting tongue, then wrapped his right hand behind Shane's neck, inviting him to swallow his cock down. Shane sucked it into his mouth, and Ilya's knees nearly gave out at the slick sensation. Ilya allowed Shane a few strokes, before he stood upright.

"Fuck," Ilya groaned with a deep breath, and pushed Shane onto his back. Ilya crawled toward the headboard and gently pressed into Shane's waiting mouth. He left his cock there, noticing the sensation of his tight balls resting on Shane's chin, before fucking into Shane's face, reveling in the sounds of his spit, throat, and soft moans.

Shane loved this feeling, with Ilya's thick thighs capturing his torso. He could hold onto his thighs for dear life or squeeze the most perfect bubble butt ever created, while completely disappearing into the sensations of swallowing Ilya down his throat. He didn't worry about choking or gagging; he practiced this enough at home so that he could be ready when they were together. Shane's hips thrust into the air, seeking purchase or friction, knowing none was to be found.

Ilya pulled out of his mouth and sat on his stomach, leaving Shane both empty and shaking. Shane marveled at the cock in front of him, gleaming with pre-come and his spit. He couldn't imagine a more natural combination, except for him and the man cutting off his air supply, of course. "Can't breathe," he choked out, before Ilya laughed and flipped Shane onto his stomach.

He kissed Shane's neck, pushing his longer-than-normal black hair out of the way, then tangled his fingers in it, pulling, "I like this," Ilya hissed. He kissed down Shane's back, tracing his tongue around the underside of his shoulder blades, then down his spine. Ilya sucked the soft flesh of Shane's cheek into his mouth, attempting to chew it, and leaving a mark for anyone who dared look.

Ilya spread Shane's fat ass cheeks and smiled at the familiar sight. He leaned down to suck one of his balls into his mouth, then dropped it, licking a stripe up his balls, over his rim, and to the small of Shane's back. They started opening him in the shower, but Ilya was not going to give up this opportunity to worship his love. He tongued at Shane's hole, commenting how pretty it was, how soft and pliant it was. Ilya licked into the hole, stretching it with his tongue before adding one finger, then two, scissoring Shane open. He licked around Shane's entrance to ease the burn, then added a third finger. He plunged his hand in and out, lightly brushing the bundle of nerves. He wanted to tease Shane and get him ready, but he wanted the real pleasure to come from his cock.

"Motherfucker," Ilya whispered as he slipped his fingers from Shane's hole. He slapped his ass, enjoying the jiggle, then said, "left condoms at door. Don't go anywhere," with a slightly desperate laugh. Shane let out a combination whine and giggle at the emptiness and Ilya's predicament. He didn't dare move, except to watch Ilya walk across the room.

Ilya sprinted back to the bed, and Shane laughed at his glorious cock bobbing and smacking his stomach with each step. He rolled on a condom, lubed up, rolled Shane over and kissed him deeply.

"Ready?"

"For you? Always," Shane whispered through a smile. As Ilya eased in, Shane thought to himself, for you? forever.

Once Ilya bottomed out, they held each other and kissed, letting Shane enjoy the burn and get ready for Ilya's onslaught. He rolled his hips gently into Shane, kissing and licking his neck and the sensitive spot behind his ear.

"Fuck, Ilya, please," Shane whined. Ilya knew what that meant. He pulled out just long enough to pull Shane's hips to the end of the bed. Ilya lifted Shane's ass to the perfect height and shoved his chest onto the mattress. He plunged into Shane's hole, and they both groaned loudly in pleasure.

Soon, the room was filled with the slap of Ilya's hips against Shane's, the sound shifting as they both slicked with more and more sweat. Ilya flipped Shane onto his back again before plunging back in with a shout. Shane whimpered and moaned, while Ilya's sounds of pleasure were closer to a grunt, matching the effort he was putting into fucking Shane the way he needed. Shane's dick flopped and leaked all over the mattress. "Look at that pretty, useless cock. You get so wet for me, my pretty boy. So needy for me." Ilya grunted as he pummeled Shane.

"Please, Ilya, I need …" Shane whimpered as he reached for his dick. Ilya smacked his hand away, then trapped it behind his back.

"I am here now. You come from me," Ilya commanded. "You come on my cock and only when I tell you to," he gritted out, knowing they were both close.

The sounds of his thrusts and their moans grew louder.

"Can I come?" Shane begged, "Please say I can come, Ilya."

Ilya was struggling to last as Shane's walls contracted around him. He felt the vibrations from Shane holding back, and he wouldn't be able to last much longer before, "come. Now. On my cock," Ilya gritted out.

Shane screamed out in pleasure as he came all over his stomach, shaking, his body rolling with every pulse of his release. Ilya collapsed onto Shane's chest, filling the condom with the last quivers of his own eruption.

Ilya kissed Shane's shoulder and neck, praising his efforts and thanking him for his beautiful body, then slipped out. Shane hated that part, losing Ilya for a moment, but waited patiently as he brought over warm washcloths to clean them both up. They crawled under the sheets and curled up for a quick nap before heading to Shane's parent's house.

____

Ilya was surprised to see Yuna's tree without any ornaments this year, but the house looked as warm and inviting as ever.

"Why no ornaments?" Ilya asked over Christmas eve lunch of ham sandwiches and a vegetable tray.

"We wanted to decorate together!" Yuna answered. "We know you never got to celebrate Christmas like us, so we figured this would be your first time decorating a tree."

Ilya let the tears well up in his eyes as he thanked her. "Should the boys clean up lunch so we can start now?" David asked. They laughed and got to work.

Yuna and David already cut down the live tree and lit it with what must have been a couple thousand tiny lights. "There wasn't time to let you light the tree this year, but you run the strand all the way up the trunk from the bottom, then run it out the underside of each branch, and wrap it around the branch to the back. You repeat that for every branch that's strong enough to hold lights. You'll almost never see the cords, and the tree will glow."

Ilya stared at the tree with stars in his eyes, "Is perfect," he whispered.

"We start with these to fill in the holes in near the trunk," Yuna explained as she showed Ilya how to add large solid color balls deep into the tree. David turned on the Christmas music channel on the TV and settled into the couch as Shane joined Ilya and Yuna.

"I think these two boxes will be you boys' favorite," Yuna said as she handed a box to Ilya and a box to Shane. "Don't put ornaments that look similar near one another, and try to add the heavy ones to the bigger branches at the bottom. But have fun with it!"

Ilya and Shane unwrapped ornament after ornament from yellowing tissue paper and individual boxes. Yuna had incorporated her son's first love into her Christmas decor as much as she added it into her life. They opened Hallmark Keepsake ornaments of Wayne Gretzky, Gordie Howe, and Mario Lemieux. There were three styles of Keepsake ornament for Shane, one for his rookie year, and his two cup years. Ilya made sure to hide his second cup ornament at the back of the tree with a smile. Shane laughed and put it front and center.

"Here are a couple new ones," she said as she handed new Keepsake ornament boxes to the boys. It was Ilya's rookie ornament and his cup ornament.

"Will win more for you, mama Yuna," Ilya promised.

They laughed when they pulled out rubber duckies in red and blue hockey gear. There were tiny nets and red and blue toques.

Ilya unwrapped two hand-blown glass Team Canada Olympics jerseys. "Please do not get Team Russia. I do not need reminder."

The second box had a small box inside with a stack of felt ornaments. There were handmade Metros jerseys, stuffed to be a little squishy, hockey sticks, and adorable embroidered pucks.

Yuna handed the boys a third box of ornaments that had a mix of souvenirs from places Shane had played in juniors, little Santa Clauses and elves, birds, moose, and a very cute fox wearing a pink scarf.

"Like one I got you!" Ilya pointed out, and Yuna confirmed that's why they bought it on a vacation in Banff. Ilya put that ornament next to Shane's second cup ornament, front and center on the tree.

"Why a hippo-thing?" Ilya asked when he gave up trying to remember the entire word "hippopotamus."

"Oh come on, Ilya, do we have to teach you more silly Christmas songs?" David laughed as he pulled up "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas" on Spotify.

"I guess so!"

They laughed and rolled their eyes at the song. Ilya agreed it was very smart to bring a hippo inside and give him a massage, but not in the garage. He should have his own bedroom. They played Dominic the Donkey for good measure, and he spent the rest of the day singing, "Hee haw, hee haw!"

Yuna handed the boys sticks with twirly ribbons to add to the tree, and then she handed them the final box. Ilya opened it with reverence to find the wooden tree topper, the tiny sticks and puck he had seen several times in the past seven years. David added it to the top, and they stood back and took in the haphazard beauty of their creation. Shane rested his head on Ilya's shoulder, and Ilya leaned his head on Shane's. They tangled their fingers together and squeezed, realizing how lucky they were to be able to be together.

________

 Yuna invited Ilya into the kitchen. "I'm going to make cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning. Would you like to help?"

Ilya happily joined, singing badly to the Christmas songs he knew, as they bloomed the yeast and mixed the dough. They kneaded the dough for about fifteen minutes, trading off so Ilya could learn Yuna's preferred technique. They left the dough to rise for two hours.

While they waited, Shane took Ilya back to his bedroom to wrap presents. They had agreed no gifts over twenty dollars this year. They kept each gift in their shipping boxes so they didn't spoil any surprises, and stopped frequently to make out. Shane looked over to his carry-on bag, knowing he couldn't wrap one gift.

Yuna showed Ilya how to make the cinnamon sugar filling, then they rolled out the dough, filled it, cut the cinnamon rolls, and left it to rise a second time overnight.

David and Yuna left for their Japanese Christmas Eve, giving the boys privacy. Shane drove Ilya to pick up takeout Thai food, and as soon as they finished eating, they snuggled into Shane's bed with a Hallmark Christmas movie on Shane's iPad.

"We deserve that," Ilya claimed wistfully.

"To save the community center?" Shane asked, confused.

"Hollander, you are perfect idiot. No, happily ever after, we deserve happily ever after."

"I love you so much," Shane responded with a soft smile.

Ilya leaned down through heavy eyelids and kissed Shane more gently than he'd ever been kissed. They nuzzled each other's faces, pressing their foreheads together before deepening their kiss. Ilya shifted his weight and pressed his right thigh between Shane's legs, their breathing getting heavier. He licked into the familiar corners of Shane's mouth, savoring every memorized spot. Eventually, Ilya grabbed Shane's jaw and kissed him deeper before pulling away, leaving Shane desperate. He pressed his right thumb into Shane's open lips. Shane immediately wrapped them around it, swirled his tongue around Ilya's thumb, and began to suck, afraid Ilya would take it away from him. Shane ground his cock against Ilya's thigh while Ilya kissed his neck and rubbed his cock against Shane's hip.

They quickly began ripping at each other's clothes to be able to feel more of their heat and hardness. Ilya kissed and licked, probing with his tongue and his fingers as he opened Shane up. Once he was satisfied that Shane would be ready, Ilya laid on his back, waiting for Shane to climb onto his cock. He loved watching Shane ease down, as the muscles in his legs strained and flexed to keep him from impaling himself too quickly.

Eventually, Shane started bouncing on Ilya's cock. He loved to watch Shane's dick leak and jump while Shane was moving. It softened and hardened as they shifted their positions. Ilya alternated between digging bruises into Shane's hips with his fingertips and stroking Shane, using his pre-come and Ilya's spit for lube.

He felt Shane's muscles twitching and watched his face as he got closer and closer. Ilya grabbed Shane's thighs to hold him in one place, then fucked up into Shane, pounding harder and faster, until they collapsed together in a shout.

They cleaned up, kissed, and snuggled into bed together. They fell asleep tangled in each other's arms.

December 25, 2017

The next morning they awoke, still wrapped in each other. Shane no longer questioned the heat, just missed it when Ilya wasn't there.

"No alarm? Is Shane Hollander going soft?"

Shane shoved Ilya's hand down his pants, "Not soft," he grunted. He was prioritizing recovery for these two and a half days together. He pulled their pants down low enough, then poured lube on their dicks. Shane slotted his ring finger and pinkie into the space between Ilya's first finger and middle finger so they could pump together. They grabbed their dicks, and they thrust together into their combined fists. The tangled fingers added width and depth, but also made Shane forget where his hand stopped and Ilya's started.

Ilya loved Shane needy like this, so he ran his thumb over the head of Shane's cock, gathering wetness as he went. Shane moaned into Ilya's kiss and spilled into their joined hand, and Ilya quickly followed.

"Merry Christmas, baby," Ilya said.

"Merry Christmas, my love."

They showered and eventually joined Shane's parents. Ilya helped Yuna finish baking and then icing the cinnamon rolls. After they cooled some, Yuna showed Ilya how to decide exactly how cool the cinnamon rolls should be before icing so there was an optimal distribution of icing on top and glaze that slid around all of the edges.

Shane cooked an omelette, but made sure to have half a cinnamon roll as well. After their huge breakfast, they read the paper, played on their phones and napped a bit before it was time for presents.

"Did we all agree to stick to the twenty dollars limit for each person?" Yuna asked with an accusatory tone.

"Yes, mama Yuna."

"For the most part," David answered.

"I did my best," said Shane.

Yuna smiled at Ilya following the rules better than her strict rule-follower, Shane.

They divvied up their presents and opened one at a time, and Ilya loved that some things never changed.

Shane opened David's package, wrapped in brown Kraft paper with blue raffia ribbon, first, "It's a stainless steel fidget glider. I keep one in my pocket for when I'm stressed or bored in a meeting, and it keeps me present."

"Thank you, dad, it feels really good," Shane responded as he moved the smooth glider under his thumb. "I'll definitely try it on the plane."

Yuna handed her gift, covered in cartoon Santa paper and fuzzy red and white ribbon, to Ilya, "It's silly, but it's for something we have in common."

"Shower beer cup holder! Is perfect, mama Yuna. Almost makes me want to cut grass on a summer day." He laughed.

"Here you go, mom," Shane handed his mother a small red box. He hated knowing he could buy her so much more, but was glad to basically stick to the price limit she set. Yuna loved her new tube of L'Occitane lavender hand cream, "Thank you, sweetie. It's perfect."

Ilya handed a heavier gift to David. He wrapped it in two parts, tied together with red tinsel ribbon. David opened the small box first.

"Dixon Ticonderoga," Ilya explained, "Best eraser for crossword."

They all laughed, then David opened a burgundy-bound book with gold leaf design, The Book of Unusual Knowledge, which he immediately cracked open to pour through the pages after thanking Ilya.

"Here you go honey." David handed Yuna a gift that had to be a record. She laughed as she opened it, and they immediately started singing, "I can't fight this feeling anymore."

Shane looked at Ilya, "Their song," he said.

Ilya immediately started singing "One More Sleep" in his head.

Yuna handed her gift to David, and he opened a second book, "Maybe there was a theme," she commented, as he began happily flipping through The Yacht Rock Book.

David laughed and gave Ilya his gift. It was covered in cocktail glasses.

"Drunk Crossword?" Ilya read the title after he ripped into the paper.

"It has puzzles about alcohol, and some puzzles and games look like you're drunk when you're playing," David explained. "You're getting so good, I figured we needed to up the difficulty."

Ilya beamed at the compliment.

Shane handed his gift to David, a larger box than the rest, covered in blue, yellow, red, and white stripes, which he ripped into carefully.

"Pendelton socks are my favorite!" he exclaimed as he saw the item on top. Then laughed and said, "There must have been two themes, books and booze!" as he pulled out his favorite local gingerbread beer.

Ilya handed his gift to Yuna and said, "Sveta recommended these, I hope you love them." Yuna opened a stack of Korean sheet masks, "She says they make her face feel like baby's butt," and a glass teapot for infusing loose tea.

"Ilya, I can't wait to have a quiet spa night, thank you, sweetie!"

"Shane, these are for you." Yuna handed Shane a box wrapped in sedate navy blue paper tied with Metros ribbon. "The wrist bands are for when you wash your face so your sleeves don't get wet, and the lotion dries quickly, doesn't leave you sticky, and is unscented."

"Looks like I will get a spa night soon, too. Thank you mom."

She smiled at him.

"Here's your gift, Ilya." Shane handed Ilya a box wrapped in candy cane stripes. Ilya was excited to find honey sticks, a huge bag of organic chocolates, and fair trade coffee beans.

"Is for you." Ilya shoved the last present, red with polka dots in shades of green and white, into Shane's hands. Shane opened it slowly and found a very masculine stainless steel necklace inside. "New stylist approved," Ilya answered Shane's puzzled face.

They all cleaned up and enjoyed the feeling of Christmas.

________

They saved lasagna until Christmas night this year, and made it together. Once it was ready, they ate until they were stuffed. After dinner, Shane asked Ilya to go on another walk to their park to see the Christmas lights. Shane ducked into his room to grab his coat. Ilya went back to the room to get the parka he received in 2010. There was no use fighting how cozy it was.

They walked hand in hand to the park, noticing the new Christmas decorations, and Ilya waved and talked to puffy Santa. He asked him if all the elves were good this year, and Shane grinned, but bit back a comment that puffy Santa wasn't real.

Ilya pulled out his phone and started playing "One More Sleep" while they walked together. Ilya noticed that Shane got quiet, but that was pretty normal. His cheeks were pinker than usual, but maybe that was the cold. They got to the park and Ilya started walking around to see all the lit-up trees, but Shane grabbed his hand and pulled him under the pergola. Ilya was planning on taking his time before getting here, but whatever Shane wanted, he wanted to give him.

Shane stared at Ilya, trying to say something, so Ilya stared back, drinking in his beauty and swallowing a grin at Shane's confused kitten face.

Shane took a huge breath and grabbed both of Ilya's hands. Ilya noticed they were shaking and almost pulled Shane into a hug, but he knew he had something to do in a minute once Shane said whatever he was going to say.

"Ilya, I've known you since 2008, and we've wasted so much time. I love you more than anything, more than hockey, and you're my person."

Ilya thought Shane looked perfect under the glow of the lights, and he couldn't wait to kiss him when he was finished.

"I never thought I would meet someone who understood me; who could love me despite my quirks and rules. I definitely never thought I could meet someone I wanted to be with and who my friends loved, too. But I have, and it turns out he's the other best player in the NHL. My best friend and my best competitor. You make me better in every way. I love you, Ilya."

"I love you, too, Shane," Ilya answered before letting Shane keep going. He was a little surprised Shane was taking so many of the points in his planned speech, but he would improvise.

Shane dropped to one knee. In the snow! Getting his pants all wet! And pulled a small box from inside his parka. He opened it to show a black ring with tiny black diamonds inset into it. "Ilya Rozanov, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me in secret, please?"

Ilya immediately pulled Shane up from the snow, laughing and crying, and kissed him at least a hundred times all over his cold face. He didn't answer, but instead pulled Shane up to face him.

"Shane Hollander, you stole almost everything I wanted to say in my proposal, but you have given me a second chance at family and a first chance at love." Ilya kissed his adorable, confused face through the tears. "I love you with everything in my heart. Will you please marry me in secret?" he asked, then pulled out a box from inside his parka.

The ring he chose for Shane was more sedate, a slim titanium band with a comfort edge. The inside inscription simply said, "forever, however" because that's how they would be together no matter what it took. They each said yes and slipped the ring on the other's fingers and kissed until they were shivering as the snow fell around them.

"Is why I got you necklace. So you can wear my ring during games."

"I figured you could wear mine on your mom's necklace," Shane answered.

They both started crying and kissed again, before turning home.

Chapter End Notes

Thank y'all so much for reading to the end! I hope I gave you fluff and smut til the cows came home.

Hallmark movies that inspired this:
October Kiss
Mistletoe Promise
The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
Very Merry Mix-Up (the proposal is my replacement for the horrible ending to that movie)
Holiday Engagement
Snow Bride
Catch Me If You Claus
'Twas the Date Before Christmas - shout out Bob Buck
probably 1000 more I didn't list

I created an Instagram account for this story - please check out JicamaSoup for some images that remind me of the places in this world.