Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warnings:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander & Ilya Rozanov, David Hollander/Yuna Hollander

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Hayden Pike, Jackie Pike, Yuna Hollander, David Hollander, Zane Boodram, Cassie Boodram, Lisa Hayes (Game Changers), Wyatt Hayes, Harris Drover, Troy Barrett, Brandon Wiebe, Theriault (Game Changers), Luca Haas, J.J. Boiziau, Roger Crowell, Andrew (Game Changers), Willa (Game Changers)

Additional Tags:

Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Long-Distance Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Familial Abuse, Implied/Referenced Eating Disorders, Established Relationship, Internalized Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Montreal Voyageurs | Montreal Metros Being Assholes (Game Changers), Sexting, Phone Sex, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Hockey, Autistic Shane Hollander, POV Alternating, WAG Ilya Rozanov, WAG Shane Hollander, Good Parents David Hollander/Yuna Hollander, Dumb Hockey Boys, Depressed Ilya Rozanov, Sex Toys, spoilers for Role Model, Spoilers for The Long Game, Spoilers for Common Goal, Good guy Ilya Rosanov

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-08-27 Words: 51,574 Chapters: 23/23

With All My Heart

Summary

“Well…” Ilya grinned mischievously, “I know you were upset about not getting a nice WAG basket. I am not sure if I did this right, though.” He stood up and grabbed the first and smallest basket and handed it to Shane who was still sitting on the couch. Nowadays most women just sent everything in a cardboard box. Ilya’s basket looked like one of the ones at the grocery store near Easter time, but tiny. It was woven and clumsily wrapped in cellophane. “The woman at the store said I needed a bag to put the basket in. I do not see the point of this, but for you I wanted the best, so I bought the bags.”

or

Long distance relationships are hard. Long distance relationships when no one knows you’re in one are the hardest. Shane and Ilya find creative ways to stay connected using the tradition of WAG baskets given to Voyageurs' players before playoffs.

Notes

Hey all! This is the first fanfic I've written in about a decade, so go easy on me! I tried my best to use correct hockey lingo, but if some of it is wrong just go with it. I also tried my best to use the names of places & characters from the books, not the show. This fic does contain spoilers for The Long Game and Role Model especially, but also kind of Common Goal as well. The fic is mostly canon compliant with some obvious differences. I really wanted to explore the long distance relationship of it all, so there will be a lot of phone calls and texting. This work was not written by or assisted by AI and should not be fed into any AI models. Any grammar/spelling/verbiage mistakes are on me :)

Chapter 1

“Hey Hollander, we missed you last night!” JJ boomed as he walked into the locker room. “How come you never come out with us anymore? Do I have Rosanov to blame for this?”

Shane immediately broke out into a cold sweat. How could JJ possibly know he’d met Ilya for dinner last night? Ilya was headed out on a road trip for the next two weeks, so he and Shane wanted to spend one last evening together. They eventually decided to meet at Ilya’s place so he could leave straight from home to the airport since it was an early flight.

“Rosanov? What do you mean?” He asked casually. Much more casually than he felt, but after so many years lying came naturally to him. He hated this about himself, hated lying to JJ especially, but the alternative was just about unthinkable.

 “Didn’t you see his recent interview with ESPN? He called you boring for like, what, the fifth time this season? Did you hear it enough and decide you really do want to be boring?”

“Oh.” Shane chuckled humorlessly, trying to will his heart rate to drop to a manageable level. JJ was just joking around, like they do every day. “Yeah, well, we’ll see how boring he thinks I am in three weeks when we play them. Not sure if I should say play, or if I should jump straight to crush them.”

“I know he’s been there for almost a whole season now, but I still don't have any clue why Rosanov would want to play for such a shitty team. Hey, whatever earns his bag at the end of the day. I would have guessed Boston was paying him pretty well but maybe Ottawa made an offer he couldn’t refuse? Seems like he’s the kinda guy to value cups more than cash, but what do I know.”

“Maybe.” Shane said with a shrug. “He’s always been a bit weird, who knows why that guy does anything?” He hesitated for a beat. “I don’t wanna talk about Rosanov right now. How was the party?” JJ eyed him suspiciously, and Shane was worried he wasn’t going to let this go. He did want to talk about Ilya. Recently all he wanted to talk about was Ilya. The laughs they shared at the cottage over the summer, the funny text Ilya had sent him this morning, the way he always fell asleep during movies but swore he was awake the whole time, the way he made Shane feel when he held him. Unfortunately, though Ilya was always on his mind, it was the last thing he could bring himself to share with anyone besides his parents. He still wasn’t used to even Hayden knowing about Ilya, and Shane knew that their relationship was tenuous at best. No, it’s best to keep Ilya shoved so far deep in his heart no one else would have the slightest clue about his… their, secret.

“I would have thought you’d know. He’s your friend, apparently.” JJ looked like he was going to ask something, but decided to change subject like Shane wanted. “The party was so epic, man. Lots of hot guys there, probably looking for a handsome hockey captain to sweep them off their feet,” He said teasingly. Shane gave him a disapproving look in return.

“I’m not looking right now; I’m just focusing on hockey. These Stanley Cups aren’t going to win themselves.” He said defensively.

“All I’m saying…” He switched to French once he noticed some other guys on the team beginning to stroll in. “is that it wouldn’t hurt you to get laid every once in a while. You could have still gotten your beauty sleep. You know we don’t have to be at the arena until 3:00 for evening games. You’re only 29, Hollander; quit acting like you’ve got one foot in the grave and the other in a hockey net. Live a little. Love a little!”

“I’ll take that into consideration.” Shane replied drily.

******

Shane took his place at center ice for the initial face-off. The Voyageurs were the home team, facing the Toronto Guardians. These last few games before playoff season were intense, and Shane intended to make them count. He looked into the eyes of Dallas Kent, hockey’s most untouchable boy. He was like Ilya in that he always had something to say in an effort to get under other players’ skin. Unlike Ilya, he meant what he said, and he was mean.

“So. Are the rumors true?” Dallas asked, looking down where the puck would be dropped, waiting. Shane didn’t respond. He wasn’t going to give Kent anything, not today. “I hear you told your team you’re a fa-“ Shane won the face off and skated away with the puck, pretending like he didn’t know what the last word was. It didn’t matter to him what Kent thought really, but he knew that most players shared similar beliefs deep down. He slapped a shot at the net, pinging off the left goalpost. Shane, embarrassed at his lack of control so early in the game, looked at his coach who was shaking his head.

Focus, dude. Shane berated himself. Don’t let a dick like Kent knock you off your game. He put his head down and lost himself to hockey. It was easy to do, especially at home. The roar of the crowd drowned out the chatter in his head, and he felt a lot better when he scored a goal off a pass from Hayden. The goal horn cleared away any remaining fog. He was Shane Hollander, damn it. He knows hockey, and he knows how to win.

Montreal won 4-2.

The energy in the locker room after the game was electric. They always loved winning, of course, but everyone especially loved beating Toronto. Seeing the look on Dallas Kent’s smug face when he knows he’s not going to win this one is worth every drop of sweat and blood they all gave to the game. Shane’s locker neighbor, a rookie from Saskatchewan named Frank Bergeron, was beaming from ear to ear. He was talking excitedly to the Voyageurs backup goalie, Roman Kalnins from Latvia. Roman looked like he was desperate to get the goalie gear off but couldn’t find an opening to leave the conversation and go back to his stall. Shane decided it was just about time for a captain’s speech.

“Alright boys, let’s keep up the momentum! Don’t forget, we play San Francisco day after tomorrow. Nobody have too much fun at Marty’s tonight.” Marty’s was the go-to spot after big wins. They had a decent selection of beer on tap, but most importantly it was private. The owner of the bar was a huge Voyageurs fan, and he closed the bar every game night. Any players or their friends, family members, and partners were welcome, but the general public was not. Shane was sure that even though the bar was technically closed, they weren’t losing any money serving a team of rowdy hockey players and their guests.

“Everyone would behave if their captain was there!” JJ interjected, unhelpfully.

“While that’s probably true, JJ,” Shane shot him a warning look “I have a call with… my agent.” He hesitated for a fraction of a second too long. JJ was the only one who didn’t look like he bought the lie. Everyone else was engrossed in getting as much sweaty and stinky hockey gear off their bodies as quickly as possible before the press arrived. Luckily, the reporters had gotten pretty much all they were going to get in about 20 minutes of interviews. The game was decently unremarkable, and since it wasn’t a playoff game, nobody seemed to care too much. Shane was really looking forward to a shower and some phone sex with his man to wind down the evening. JJ looked genuinely disappointed when Shane saw him again after talking to the reporters. “Alright fine.” He said defeatedly. “I’ll join you guys for one round.” 

He dropped his bag just inside the front door of his Montreal home, dead on his feet. One round, like he knew it would with JJ, ended up being three. Shane had one beer and then switched to ginger ale. The rookies weren’t doing the same, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. As long as they didn’t get shit-faced, they would be fine. He slipped his shoes off quickly, feeling the cold tiles through his socks. Don’t put it down, put it away. His mother’s voice rang in his head as he turned to look over his shoulder and stare at his hockey bag. He kept most of his gear at the arena, but the smaller things like his hockey socks and water bottles he preferred to wash every day. Sighing, he knew that she was right, even if she wasn’t here to say it. He tossed his socks in the washer and all parts of his water bottles in the dishwasher. His hockey bag was then hung neatly in the front closet, where it belonged until next game day. He could start the dishes and laundry in the morning, he told himself.

 Loosening his tie, he sent a facetime request to Ilya. The Ottawa Centaurs were in Phoenix, but with the time difference, he knew Ilya would just have gotten back to his hotel room. Shane had checked on the score of the game at Marty’s. It was a thorough blowout for Phoenix, and he was sure his boyfriend would be in a mood about it. The call rang through without answer.  Shane thought about calling again, but received a text instead.

 Lily: Sorry, won’t be able to call tonight. Bood is out with the flu so I don’t have my own room.

Jane: Okay. Maybe just send me a selfie? When you can?

 He snapped two of himself, one still in the suit he wore home from the arena, and one shirtless with his pants open. In the second, you could see the faintest shadow of an erection. If they couldn’t facetime, he could at least give Ilya something to work with in the shower. Not that he needed it.

Lily: Can’t now but here’s an old one. Since I know you delete them, moya lyubov

Lily: Image

Jane: (2 Images)

Lily: Wow 🥲🤤

Lily: I wish I could be there. You look so good. 🥵

Lily: Good game against Toronto btw.

Lily: Hazy taught me that, do you like? Btw

Lily: It means by the way, if you didn’t know.

Jane: I know what btw means. How did you not know before? 

Jane: And you look good too. 

Lily: Well I have just learned. I like Hayes. He is good guy.

Jane: That’s good. Sucks to be traded mid-season like that though.

Lily: He does not seem like it is so bad. His wife already has a job! She is doctor at the Children’s hospital where we visit. 👩🏻‍⚕️

Jane: Can we not talk about Wyatt Hayes right now?

Lily: What would you like to talk about, sweetheart?

Jane: Maybe… what you would do… if you were here?

Lily: Always so bashful for me. 😉😚

Jane: Fuck you.

Lily: No, I think I’d like to fuck you. 🍑

Jane: 🙈

Lily: Do you have the 🍆 I bought you?

Jane: I can get it, it’s upstairs.

Lily: I think you should stay up there, in your bedroom. Maybe you could make video for me? I brought headphones.

Jane: What do you want to see?

Lily: I want you to get right to the edge, but stop for me. Once you are panting and moaning, put the toy in and then come for me. It is so long before I see you again, I will want to watch many times.

Lily: Are you there?

Jane: Video

Lily: fuck 🤤😩🤤

Lily: I bet you love coming for me with my name on your lips 😉

Jane: I like it better with your lips on mine. I wish you were here.

Lily: I wish I was too. ☹️

Lily: Hey, some of the guys are going to the hotel bar to catch a beer. Call you tomorrow?👯‍♀️

Jane: Sure. I love you.

Lily: 💘

Phone sex was new; hell all of this was new, but he’d certainly never done that. He trusted Ilya, of course, but the thought of a video floating around somewhere where he did… that… put him on edge. He needed to think of something else to send Ilya. Something that wasn’t incriminating videos and pictures.

He had returned Ilya’s hoodie he left at the cottage when they escaped there for a week over the Christmas holidays, but now desperately wished he hadn’t. He ached to hug his boyfriend, to smell him, to touch him, anything. It wasn’t fair, listening to his teammates and coaches complain about their partners when Shane couldn’t even hug his. They’d essentially been long distance for years. By now, he should be used to this feeling. He had whole weeks with Ilya now rather than stolen moments in hotels like they used to before. But maybe that’s what was making it worse. 

He knew Ilya’s quirks now, like how he hummed happily every time he had a meal that he liked. How he couldn’t fall asleep without brushing his teeth, even for a nap. How he always woke up in a daze, even after a full night’s rest. Shane almost asked Ilya once about his dreams. He had been mumbling in his sleep in Russian, and while he knew enough words to get by (especially in bed) his speech was too fast to comprehend. The only thing he caught was the word “mama” over and over again. Ilya rarely talked about his mother, and Shane knew next to nothing about her. When he saw the anguish in Ilya’s eyes, he decided against it. He figured it’d be best to let Ilya bring it up if (or when) he wanted to talk about her. 

Maybe the time they shared together as boyfriends made it harder to go back to the reality in which they were rivals. How could he possibly pretend to hate Ilya, or at least see him as nothing more than a friendly enemy? Shane sat on his bed with a towel wrapped around his waist, looking at the picture Ilya had sent him. Usually he liked the peace living alone afforded him, but tonight the silence of his home threatened to swallow him whole.

Chapter 2

Ilya was dreaming again. They were never peaceful, frolicking in the meadow, no care in the world dreams. He often dreamed of his family. Recently his dreams had been filled with his father’s harsh, grating words and his mother’s sad smile. He should have done more to help her when he could. The logical part of his brain knows that he was only a child, but the emotional side of him wished he could go back and tell his father exactly what he thought of him. 

In his dream, his mother had undercooked a piece of chicken and inadvertently served it to his father. There was enough of his mind alert in the dream to know that this was a memory from when he was about 10 years old. So too, were his father’s shouts. He pounded his fists on the table, using cutting remarks that Ilya carried with him, even if they weren’t directed at him. Useless. A fuck-up. Good for nothing. Irina had sat quietly at the dinner table, eyes glued to her plate. She quietly apologized for the mistake before getting up and taking the chicken back to the kitchen for a few more minutes in the oven. Ilya’s dream self followed her. He was older now, but the dream Irina didn’t seem to notice or mind. 

“Why do you let him speak to you like that?” He asked quietly. 

“Oh, dear, don’t worry about me.” She held his hand and tried not to let the tears fall that were in her eyes. “I should have paid more attention. He’s right, serving raw chicken is unacceptable. I just need to do better... Just need to be better.” 

“You are good enough mama. The best mama in the world.” He tried to say, but the alarm sounded on his phone, clearing away the dream as fast as it came on. Ilya's eyes popped open, and it took a second for him to orient himself. His heart was pounding and his breathing was quick. He took a deep breath and flopped back down on his stomach. 

“I didn’t know you talk in your sleep.” Wyatt looked at Ilya after a beat, waiting for him to shake the sleep from his brain. Ilya rubbed his eye with a crooked smile. 

“I guess it sucks for you that I was dreaming about your sister.” Wyatt laughed and threw a pillow at Ilya. 

“Gross, man! Also she’s like… super not into dudes” He arched an eyebrow, waiting for a reaction. His teammates in Toronto hadn’t been great when he mentioned his sister around them. “Plus you were talking in Russian, so don’t even start with that.” 

“Wonderful!” Ilya said, beaming. He looked like he had never heard better news in his life. “Probably good for her that she does not. Men are very stupid.” This elicited a chuckle from Hays, and he shot Ilya a bewildered look. 

“Not many guys I’ve met in the NHL who share that view. I didn’t expect you were an ally.” 

“There is more to me than meets the eye, Hazy.” 

“I’m starting to figure that out.” 

*** 

Ilya was itching to watch the video Shane sent him again. He would delete it as soon as his road trip was over, he knew that, but for now, this was his. It was clear that Shane was a bit uncomfortable in the beginning. As far as Ilya knew, this was the first video he’d ever taken of himself getting off. Definitely it was the first video edging himself and coming with Ilya’s name whispered in ragged breaths. Once he got into it though, Shane Hollander the robotic hockey player vanished and was replaced with Shane Hollander, the boy who would do anything to please Ilya. 

It delighted him to no end, the lengths Shane would go for him. Ilya loved getting Shane out of his comfort zone, whether Shane knew it or not. It was his job after all, as team captain, to push everyone a little bit farther. Inspire them to hold out a little longer. He knew Shane's mind was always moving at a million miles an hour, cluttered with brand deals, plays, and whatever else he needed to worry about that day. More than anything, Ilya loved being the one who could quiet his boyfriend's brain. Even when they were only seeing each other casually, he knew Shane was desperate to just exist and turn off his brain for a few minutes. He probably would have stopped seeing Ilya entirely years ago if he knew of any other way to calm the storm in his mind.

He scarfed down a plate of bland hotel eggs and a protein shake he'd picked up at a gas station the night before, hoping to have a few minutes alone before they had to go to the arena. He headed back upstairs to his room, devastated to hear Wyatt on the phone inside. Ilya figured he may as well take a walk. It was cold as hell in Ottawa and he didn't want to miss the beautiful 65° sunshine of a Phoenix January. 

The hotel they were staying at happened to be within walking distance of a public park. Ilya looked at directions on his phone before figuring he understood generally where he was going and how to get there. In less than 10 minutes, he laid eyes on a playground. Circling the park there was a paved path, perfectly lined down the middle with a stick man on one side and a bike on the other. It was early in the morning so only a few runners and a small yoga group were there. Perfect. 

He began a leisurely stroll around the park, taking in the scenery. Growing up in Moscow, and then spending his adult life in Boston and later Ottawa, he rarely got a chance to see mountains apart from his road trips. From where he was, the view was mostly obscured, but he could make out one every now and then between the buildings and trees. He snapped a picture of the sun directly above a peak. 

Lily: Image 

Lily: Makes me think of you 🌞

Jane: Why's that? 

Lily: I love to see your smiling face when I'm at my peak. 😋

Jane: Is that supposed to be dirty, or are we talking like… the peak of your hockey career? Because I think that was about 3 years ago. 

Lily: It's whatever you want it to be, lubyov 😘 

Lily: I will turn this team around, just you wait. 

Jane: You make me smile either way. 

Lily: 💖😁

Ilya posted the photo to his Instagram without captions or tags and continued his walk. It was late enough in the morning now people would likely start wondering where he was soon. As captain, it was his job to make sure all team members were on the bus and accounted for, especially himself. 

He loved moments where he could just pretend to be a normal guy, chatting with his boyfriend while he was on a work trip. He hated having to hide the biggest part of himself. His heart lived in Montreal now and no one seemed to notice. It sometimes felt like he was missing a limb and was expected to carry on like nothing was amiss. He envied his teammates and coaches who could have pictures of their partners and families on their lock screen. Every notification reminded them of their wives and kids and Ilya was desperate for that kind of easy love. How could he possibly put himself through another decade of this? The secrecy, the hiding, the sneaking off would catch up to him eventually, he knew that. He also knew that he needed to be patient for his Shane. Maybe he would be ready to come out together in a few years? He knew deep down that if Shane wasn't ready until retirement then he would wait. He would do anything to keep Shane in his life. This was the happiest he'd ever been, so why was he feeling so hollow right now? 

******

The second game against Phoenix in a double header was unremarkable, as were the games against San Jose and Las Vegas. All losses, all blowouts for the home teams. Ilya hated losing like anyone, but right now he really couldn't bring himself to care at all. He knew what he was in for when he signed with Ottawa. Hayes had made some impressive saves, but even he couldn't get them all. Ilya couldn't find his groove with these new teammates yet. His passes, while good, just weren't connecting like they used to in Boston. He had to remind himself he had nearly a decade with those guys. They knew his style better than anyone and the wing players were good at being where he expected them to be. This would come with time, he assured himself. Any team would be hard to join after being with one group of guys so long. 

He usually didn’t mind road trips; Ilya loved them actually. It gave him a chance to see the world he never thought would be as big as it is. Since his father was a policeman, he rarely took time off. Even if he did, family vacations were out of the question. Ilya had once asked why they never travelled anywhere. Even though it had happened nearly 20 years ago, he remembered his father’s words like it was yesterday. “I’ve already spent so much money on your hockey, Ilyusha, why would I spend more for you to, what, sit by a pool? Pathetic. In the Rosanov family, we work. You understand that? You are so lazy.” Ilya sighed, pulling himself back to the present and wished he had more time for sight-seeing. He’d been in just about every region in Canada and the United States at this point, but for the most part all he saw was hockey arenas, hotel rooms, and the occasional club. Nowadays he rarely even saw clubs. What was the point of dancing if it wasn’t with his Shane?

The Ottawa team was in the initial stages of washing off another devastating loss. Colorado had thoroughly taken the game with a final score of 5-1. He took his phone out of his bag while everyone else was making their way to the showers. 

Lily: Can we call tonight? 💓

Jane: Sorry, I'm busy tonight. Shooting an ad now and then going to my parents after. It’s my mom’s birthday. 

Lily: ok ☹️

Lily: I will call Yuna then. Wish her happy birthday like the favorite son I am. 😇

Jane: I'm sorry. I’ll be free tomorrow? 

Jane: You’re not the favorite son. I have like, 17 years on you before they even learned your name. 

Lily: Plenty of time to win them over, Мой компьютер, especially if I call on birthdays. 😉

Lily: We play at Dallas tomorrow. Afternoon game and then straight to the airport. 👎🏼🛫

Jane: Did you call me your telephone? 

Lily: Computer, close enough. 😙

Jane: You’re weird. Would you be free in the morning? 

Lily: Maybe. I'll call if I can 😘💻🖥️

He desperately missed his Shane. They had barely talked at all in the last two weeks since he got stuck rooming with Hayes just about the whole trip. Bood had joined them in Las Vegas, but management didn’t see a reason to switch up accommodations in the middle of a roadie. Ilya liked Hayes and thought he made a great addition to the team, but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t miss his alone time. As head captain, he got the perk of a single room for most away games. Ilya sulked over to the showers. 

“Chin up, cap” Bood said when he saw Ilya. “We’ll get ‘em next time!” He had the confidence and ease of someone who genuinely did think they were going to get them next time. Ilya wasn’t sure he was even capable of such optimism. He did appreciate that Bood had noticed his sour mood, even if he didn’t know the real cause. 

“Sure. Yeah, maybe.” was all he said, squeezing entirely too much shampoo into the palm of his hand. If anyone thought it was weird that Ilya Rosanov brought his own luxury shampoo and conditioner on road trips and had full size containers in his home locker room, they didn’t mention it. He liked his, what did Cliff call it? Scary dog privilege. Ilya wasn’t sure if Cliff meant it as a dig or a compliment, especially considering that it implied that he was a dog, but he chose to take it as a good thing. He had a reputation on the ice for being ruthless and cocky, but truthfully he didn’t know how much longer he could keep that mask on. 

Chapter 3

Chapter Notes

This chapter is in early April, 2020. Canon Divergence here

During playoff season, the WAGs of Montreal would put together little “gift baskets” for their men. If they had an away game, somehow there always happened to be a wrapped box on each man’s bed when they checked into their hotels. Shane wasn’t sure who handled the logistics, but truly he never gave it much thought. The gifts always got more extravagant the further the team got into playoffs. The first basket almost always had just beard oil and a new roll of tape. By the time they hit the Stanley Cup finals, the baskets were huge with new gear bags, a new pair of gloves, and whatever else the lady felt would be fun to unwrap for their guy. Shane always did receive a basket, but it was lacking the personal touch that his teammates’ often had. He appreciated whichever WAG still made sure he was included, even though he didn’t have a girlfriend or a wife, but it was always bittersweet.

“Hell yeah! Jackie gave me a family size bag of sour patch kids! And I don’t even have to share with my real kids.” They were halfway through playoffs now, having just one more team to beat before being in line for the finals. Shane liked their odds this year, but not enough to feel overly confident.

“You gotta be careful with those, man. Really should hold off until the summer, or at least until it’s not a game day.”

“Man, a handful of sour patch kids every now and then won’t hurt me. You sure you don’t want one?” Hayden asked casually as he flopped onto the bed and popped two in his mouth.

“No thanks.” Shane made a disgusted face and continued opening his basket. It looked like someone searched “What to buy for a hockey player” and bought the first items on the list, like it always did. New tape (not the kind he used,) wax (also not the right kind,) a mini hockey stick that read Montreal Voyageurs - Playoff Season 2020, and a pair of Montreal blue hockey socks. The Voyageurs were playing in Tampa at the moment, so the basket also included a travel size bottle of sunscreen. Shane doubted he would even open it on this trip.

Ottawa never had a chance at the playoffs this year, but maybe Ilya would still like a gift basket one day. Shane chuckled to himself. Does dating Ilya mean I’m officially a WAG myself? I wonder if Kip considers himself a WAG.

“Whatcha laughing about over there?” Hayden asked with a mouth full of brightly colored goo.

“Gross, man, don’t talk with your mouth full.” Shane said, covering his eyes in repulsion. “Just thinking if I would be considered a WAG on the Ottawa team. I wonder if they do this for playoffs too.” That made them both break out into a loud laugh.

“I guess you’ll have to ask if they ever do make it to the playoffs!” Hayden said, struggling to catch his breath.

“Well, good thing I’ll probably retire before that happens!” He loved Ilya and of course wanted to see his team do well. But come on, it was Ottawa. The last time they’d even made the playoffs at all, Shane was in middle school, and even then they were eliminated in the first round. “I don’t know if I could do the bottle blonde and matching jackets anyways. Also, what would that even be? Wives and girlfriends and husbands? WAGAH doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.” Hayden suddenly looked very serious.

“Husband? You thinking of marrying the fucker?” Shane narrowed his eyes and put the items from his playoff basket into his suitcase. Even if he didn’t want the tape and wax, he would save it to give to one of the kids at his hockey camp this summer.

“Well not, like, tomorrow, but eventually I think I’d like that.” He’d really like that, he was just now realizing.

“Damn. Well. My kids are gonna be happy about that; they can’t get enough of the guy. I think it’s just because he lets them paint his nails and I never do. Also kids are notoriously bad judges of character.” He said, but Shane knew his best friend well enough to know that he was teasing. The sparkle in his eyes was back, and he knew that Hayden and Jackie would never leave their kids with someone that he truly didn’t trust. “Besides” he added “I think they’d probably have to just change it to SAPs - Spouses and partners. What if someone has a non-binary partner in 10 years? Wives and girlfriends and boyfriends and husbands and non-binary life partners is just way too long.” This sent them both into a laughing fit too.

They were still laughing when they heard a knock at the door. Shane opened and saw JJ standing in the hall.

“Heard you guys giggling and wanted to see what all the commotion was about.” he said mischeviously.

“Hey!” Hayden shouted, not getting up from his spot on his bed. “I was making fun of Shane for not eating sour patch kids. You want one? Also, there was only manly laughter in here. You’ll have to go see Frankie if you want to giggle.”

“Sour Patch Kids?! These from Jackie?” He walked past Shane and plopped down next to Hayden.

“JJ, come in, why don’t you? Make yourself comfortable.” Shane grumbled. Both Hayden and JJ ignored him completely.

“Yeah! Isn’t she the best! Put them in my gift basket!

“Lucky! Shane and I just get whatever’s left in the hockey aisle of Dick’s!” he turned to face Shane for the first time. “We have got to get girlfriends, ah, I mean, um partners? Soon, dude.” Shane and Hayden locked eyes awkwardly.

“Yeah, I’m tired of sharing my candy with you! At least I know this guy won’t ask for any” he said, gesturing at Shane.

“I’m gonna… Go make sure everyone is settled. You guys enjoy your sugar.” He spun on his heel and walked into the hallway. He could hear his teammates excitedly talking about the things their partners had included. Most of the doors were open, inviting people to come and go as they pleased. Everyone always loved seeing what their teammates got. After everyone had a chance to look through their baskets, there was always a few trades that happened. Rule #1 of being a Voyageur was DO NOT tell your girl you traded her gift. It was like Christmas for everyone but Shane. God, he missed Ilya. After checking to ensure that everyone was at least accounted for at the hotel, he headed to the lobby and out the front door. He found a small stretch of curb that was out of earshot of everyone. He sat on the curb facing away from the hotel, legs stretched in the overgrown grass. Taking out his phone, he called the only person he wanted to talk to right now.

Hey. This is Ilya. I will never listen to your voicemail. Beep.

“Hey. Sorry for calling out of the blue.” He took a breath and tried to steady his voice but found that he could not hide the sadness that lingered everywhere. “I just… I just really wanted to hear your voice. Everyone else is upstairs opening up their WAG baskets, and I just.” He took another shaky breath “I just miss you, Ilya. I wish I could open a basket you made me. Even though it’d probably include a McGriddle somehow and the stupidest fucking things that I’d definitely put in the trade pile. I just want to know that it was you who packed it, not some random lady I’ve met twice doing it out of pity.” He took a few more steadying breaths. He did not want to cry in this hotel parking lot. “I don’t know. I’m fine, just in a weird mood. I’ll catch you later. Ya lyublyu tebya.” He pressed the end call button and looked up at the sky. He startled when he heard someone clearing his throat behind him.

“Uh, hi.” JJ said, looking awkward. “I thought you might want some company, but um. I didn’t want to intrude.”

Shane was sweating. How could he have been so careless? What was he thinking calling Ilya like that without first checking his surroundings?

“How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to hear you say that you missed Ilya. Is there another Ilya that you speak to in Russian I should know about, or is it the one I’m thinking of?” He looked simultaneously like he so angry he was going to start shouting and on the other hand looked like he was incredibly hurt. Either way, there was no way out of this conversation now. Shane rubbed his hands over his face.

“This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.”

“And how DID you want me to find out, Hollander?!” He hissed in French “Or were you never going to tell me? Oh, stupid JJ, always trying to help out his friend, going out of his way to get numbers of guys for you. And the whole time, you’ve been fucking Rosanov? How long has this been going on?” Shane just looked at the ground, his hands visibly shaking. “Well??” He demanded.

“A while.” was all Shane could muster, barely above a whisper.

“Well, at least you came out to us first, I guess. He said, softening just the slightest bit. “So what, six months? I didn’t even know Rosanov was into dudes. But that tracks I guess, that guy’s so desperate for sex he’ll probably take whatever-”

“Nine years. At first it was just casual, but now it’s.. complicated.” Shane said, cutting off the end of his friend’s sentence. JJ looked like he had just slapped him. He took a step back from Shane, almost falling over as he did.

“Who even are you?” He asked quietly before his face hardened. “Fuck you, man! Does anyone else know?” Shane didn’t want to look him in the eye. “Look at me, damn it. Who else knows?!”

“Hayden. And my parents. But that’s it.” he said sheepishly before looking up at him.

“Wow.” The anger was momentarily replaced with a look Shane could only describe as pure betrayal. “Well you need to end… whatever this is. It’s throwing you off your game.”

Shane was incensed. How dare he say that? He’d been making this fucked up thing work for almost a decade and was never once thrown off his game. He stood, hoping he was eye to eye with JJ with the assistance of the curb. He was about 2 inches too short, but he tried his best to maintain his composure and not shout at his friend. The last thing he wanted was for this to be a scene.

“End it?” He spat. “You don’t know anything about us! You think I love being away from the man I love everyday? You think it’s so fun for me to carry this secret so big it threatens to crush me? And it’s not just my secret, JJ. Everyone’s made up this huge fucking rivalry between us, but we’re just regular guys. I just want to be a normal guy. I didn’t ask for any of this. And don’t fucking talk about my hockey game like I haven’t already led this team to two fucking Stanley Cups. Rosanov was there for that too, asshole, you just didn’t know it.” He sank back down to sitting on the curb, head in his hands. JJ didn’t say anything for a long while, but Shane knew he was still there.

“You love him?” JJ’s tone was soft now, still just as incredulous but no longer angry. He sat down beside Shane, not touching him, but close enough that Shane could smell his cologne.

“Yeah… I do. I’ve never loved anyone the way that I love him.” The tears that had previously threatened to escape were now freely pouring. He couldn’t look at JJ.

“Listen, man. I’m sorry I said those things.” He chuckled dryly. “I’m not saying I’m all for your” he struggled to find the right word “relationship, at least not yet, but you know I’ll always have your back.” His smile turned wicked. “I was so right about you needing to get laid more though! Is that where you go when you disappear? Not that I want to think about you and Rosanov… you know… but if for whatever reason he makes you happy, then I’ll learn to live with it. Does he love you back?”

Shane turned to look at him, his red-rimmed eyes searching his friend’s face looking for any sign of duplicity. Finding none, he released a breath.

“Thank you, that… That means a lot, JJ. And yes. He really does. You can’t tell anyone though. I’m not. I’m not ready to come out with that yet. I’m sure you can understand why.”

“I do. And you know me better than that; telling someone wasn’t even a thought I had. But I think keeping it bottled inside for too long may cause you to explode. What happens when you, or Rosanov, reach a breaking point? You can’t keep this hidden forever.”

“I know, I just... I don’t know.” That elicited a sad laugh from both of them.

“Well it seems to me like you have lots of people who love you and only want what’s best for you. You’ll figure it out, in the end.” He awkwardly patted Shane’s knee before standing. “Now listen, I’m going to go back in there and tell Hayden he’s a piece of shit for not letting me in on your little secret. How come he got to know anyways?”

“He guessed.”

“Guessed? How the hell - OH my god! Ilya is Lily! Of course he is. And you were always sneaking off when we played Boston too, you bitch! How’d it take me overhearing you to put that together?!” Shane stood up with him, his face losing its redness from before. “And tell Rosanov that I’m still going to deck him in his smug, pretty face if he hurts you!”

“Okay, JJ.” Shane laughed, genuinely impressed with how quickly JJ had accepted this as a fact of life. “Let’s go back inside, we have to leave soon for warm-ups.”

****

“JJ knows.” He said as way of greeting when Ilya finally did call him back.

“Oh? You should have told me if you were planning on telling him.” Ilya sounded annoyed. “Is he going to keep your secret?”

“It’s your secret too, you know.” Shane waited a beat, waiting for a response. Getting none, he continued on, his words coming more rapidly than he knew Ilya was comfortable with, especially on the phone. “He overheard me leaving you that voicemail. I guess he thought I was feeling lonely and since he didn’t get a WAG basket either, well he did, just not a nice one. You know what I’m trying to say. Anyways, yeah, he heard me say your name on the phone and he confronted me about it and well I didn’t really have a way out so I just kind of told him. Not everything but like he knows we’re together and I told him I loved you and -” He took a deep breath to steady himself. “I’m ok. He was angry at first. Really angry.” Ilya immediately wanted to book a ticket to Tampa and show JJ there was nothing wrong with their love. Why should they not be allowed to experience companionship and joy like everyone else? “But he came around. Kinda quickly, actually. He said it’ll take him some time to get used to it but he supports us.”

“Oh.” Ilya said, not feeling much better. He knew that should make him feel better, but it just added to the people Shane had in his corner while he had no one himself. “Is good.” He said, sounding brighter than he actually felt. “I am glad your friends know.” I wish mine could.

“Yeah, I feel a lot of relief about it. I hated lying to JJ. Are you mad?

“I know, Моё окно. I'm not mad.”

“My…? Sorry, I don’t know that one.”

“Window. You need to brush up on your vocabulary.” Ilya tried to sound like he was making a joke, but he truly just sounded miserable. He hoped Shane would not pick up on it. As he predicted, Shane plowed ahead.

“Hey, I’m sorry for earlier. I was having a hard time. I just miss you a lot. I wish we could have more time together.”

“Soon, my love. Season is almost done and then we have the cottage. Listen, I have to go. Good luck tonight.”

“Okay, I do too. Thank y-” Shane heard the click of the call ending. That was weird. He thought.

Chapter 4

Chapter Notes

June 2020

Ilya loved being a spectator of hockey. Not as much as he enjoyed playing of course, but he was obsessed with the fan atmosphere. Coach Weibe had suggested that they take a road trip to Ottawa to watch game 6 of the Stanley Cup finals in person in Montreal. So far the score in the playoffs was 3-2 for St. Louis. If Montreal won this one, they would go to game seven. If they lost, the cup would be gone for good this year. The Centaurs’ bus was parked outside the arena in the back, hidden from the general public. Ilya had thought about telling Shane that he would be in the audience, but ultimately decided against it. It was going to be so fun to surprise him later. 

 

“Take notes, boys, I want you each to pick out one play from the game and make it your own next season. These teams are on top this year, but I intend to join them next year.” Weibe passed out tiny notebooks and pencils he’d purchased from Dollarama. “That includes you, Rosanov.” He said good naturedly. 

 

“I am already on top of my game. Montreal and St. Louis have no players who can outsmart me.” 

 

“You’d be surprised.” Hayes appeared beside Ilya, seemingly out of thin air. “I thought I’d learned everything I needed to know about being a goalie by the time I was in the juniors. Boy, if I could go back and tell myself to let every game be a learning opportunity, I don’t think I would have ridden the bench for so long in Toronto.” 

 

“He’s right.” Weibe said, suddenly becoming very serious. Ilya often referred to this (only when he was not in earshot) as him going “boring coach mode.” “Every time you play a game, every time you watch a game, hell, every time you talk about a game, you should be wondering what you can learn from it. You’re good, I’ll give you that. Very good. But you’re never going to be the best hockey player you can be without taking every opportunity to make yourself even a fraction better. Maybe you can even beat Hollander in the skills test next year at the all-star game.” 

 

“Was basically a tie.” he said grumpily and sulked off the bus. Both Weibe and Hayes laughed, and the coach continued to hand out notebooks and pencils as the men filed out and into the arena. Harris had worked it out with the Voyageurs’ social media manager to get them two whole rows, which came at a premium for Stanley Cup finals. They were in plain clothes and were specifically told not to announce themselves or make a scene so as not to take any spotlight off the athletes on the ice. They walked into the arena in pairs quietly 10 minutes before the opening face-off. 

 

Shane lost the first face off. And the second. Ilya was in a plain navy blue hoodie with tattered strings from chewing. It's possible it was originally Shane's, but who could keep track anymore. He wanted so badly to yell and scream like everyone around him. He wanted his Shane to know he was here. He’d told him that he would watch the game, of course. But knowing someone is in the stands is different than thinking that they could be watching on TV. 

 

Shane drew a penalty in the beginning of the 3rd period. He couldn't be sure that he'd done it intentionally from his seat in the nosebleeds, but he'd seen Shane’s shit-eating grin on the jumbotron. He knew that something had just been said that absolutely pissed off one of St. Louis’s wing players. He watched helpless as the man punched Shane square in the nose. Instantly, blood came gushing out and the camera operator decided to focus his gaze on the Montreal coach instead of Shane's bloody face. 

 

Ilya was on his feet instantly shouting for a penalty, a removal from the game, hell, anything to get this guy back. Noticing the way all his teammates stared at him, he shrank back down to his seat. 

 

“Just getting into the game.” He said, embarrassed. Shane was being walked off the ice by a medical team until his nose could stop bleeding. A small crew tended to the blood-stained ice to avoid further injury due to a fall. Ilya couldn't see Shane anymore, so instead stared at the angry red mark on the ice until it was completely gone. 

 

Shane ended up out of the game for twenty whole minutes. Ilya guessed he was probably shouting at all the medical staff to let him get back on the ice with tissues stuffed in his nose. Of course, they both knew that wouldn't do any good, so the only thing they could do was wait. He replaced the secondary forward center with only six minutes left in the game. Montreal was down 2-4 and Ilya was praying to any God out there to let Shane score a hat trick and tie it up. 

 

He did score once more, but it was too late. The final minute counted down on the clock at an agonizingly slow pace. Ilya could see the elation on one half of the ice and the crushing devastation of realizing that they'd come so close but wouldn't be leaving with the cup on the other. The final horn sounded, and the announcer clinched the deal. 

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen! I present your 2020 Stanley Cup champions, the St. Louis Braves!!” The crowd, mostly hoping for a Montreal victory, cheered politely as orange and yellow confetti rained from the ceiling. Ilya watched as Shane shook hands defeatedly with the opposing team before skating to the locker room with his head low. 

 

“Alright boys. That’s our cue. Back on the bus before anyone knows we were here. Congratulations to the Braves, yadda yadda, we all know how this goes.” Ilya had spoken to the coach about two days before to see if he could get approval to stay in Montreal after the game. 

 

“I am seeing old friend. From rookie season, he plays for St. Louis now.” he'd lied. There was a former Boston bear on the St. Louis team, but Ilya had spoken maybe 3 sentences to him total. He hoped it would be believable enough. 

 

“Sure, I don't see why not. After the finals you're on your own for the summer. What do I care if you're on the bus or not? You'll just have to arrange your own transportation though, we’re not leaving a car for you. 

 

Ilya had arranged with Yuna as well, so he was covered on that front. They would take him back to Ottawa with them the day after tomorrow. It was a Hollander tradition to spend the day after Shane's final game of the season in pajamas the entire day playing games and doing nothing together as a family. He wanted to let Shane have his family time, but Yuna would hear none of it. Ilya would surprise Shane tonight at his house, and the parents would give them the privacy they needed. Tomorrow morning, they expected Shane on their doorstep, in pajamas, no earlier than 10AM. He just didn't know that he would be bringing a guest. The original plan was for the two of them to meet at the cabin in a week. 

 

Ilya said his goodbyes to his teammates quickly as they walked, trying to keep their heads down in the mass exodus of people leaving the auditorium. He met David outside in the pre-arranged spot. 

 

“Ilya! Didn't know if you'd made it after all! I figured they'd show you guys on the big screen. What with a whole NHL team in attendance.” 

 

“They were told not to. Said it would distract the crowd, take attention away from the players on the ice.” 

 

“Well that makes sense I guess. I think Shane would have liked seeing you though. He still doesn’t know you’re coming?” Ilya smiled with his whole face. 

 

“He will soon enough. I think is better this way.” 

 

“Well hop in, all the stuff you sent in the mail is in the backseat. With the press and post-game activities, you should have at least an hour before Shane goes home. Unless he goes out with the boys.” They both knew that Shane would not be going out with the boys. A loss like this would put him in a foul mood for at least a few days. 

 

“I can entertain myself if he does.” Ilya said casually. 

 

They arrived at Shane's house just after 10:30. He carefully grabbed the boxes as David went to unlock and hold the front door open for him. 

 

“So, what's in all these?” He asked finally after the fourth and final box was unloaded from his car. “Do I want to know?” He asked teasingly. Ilya just beamed at him. 

 

“I could not make Shane a WAG basket for the playoffs. He deserves to have one made by someone who loves him.” That clearly was not the answer David was expecting. He seemed stunned for a moment before he spoke. 

 

“I wouldn't have even thought about that. I'm glad he has you, Ilya. And I'm glad you have him.” He hesitated, and Ilya thought he might be finished. He started to reply when David cut him off. “I know Shane’s mom and I (Ilya loved when he referred to Yuna as “Shane's mom” like he didn't know who she was.) were a bit caught off guard initially, me especially, but I've liked getting to know you more this season. You're a complicated man, Rosanov, but you make my son so happy. Thank you for taking care of my little boy.” Ilya stepped forward and hugged him. They were both awkward and stiff at first, but as soon as David put his arms around him, Ilya felt the hot prickle of tears in his eyes. 

 

“I am glad to have him. And you and Yuna. You have given me the family that I never thought I could have. Now go, I have so many baskets to make.” That earned him a dry chuckle. 

 

“All right, all right. I'll get out of your hair. See you tomorrow, Ilya. Make sure Shane sleeps in. I don't want to hear any nonsense about 6AM yoga, you hear me?” 

 

“Yes sir.” Ilya said and gave a mock salute. 

 

He texted Shane, knowing he wouldn't see it until he was back in his car. 

 

Lily: I'm sorry about the cup. You played your best, though, and I'm sure you'll take it next year 🏆

Lily: Unless Ottawa wins it 😘 

Lily: How's the nose? 👃🏻

 

That should throw him off the scent enough. Now, to work on these baskets.

Chapter 5

Shane left the arena just past midnight. The team doctor wanted to do additional tests on Shane's head to ensure there was nothing further needed on their end. After the reporters and photographers were done with whatever they were trying to do, Shane left as soon as he could. There were a few guys headed to Marty's, but Shane didn't think he could stomach doing anything else but going home. Not after the way he'd let his team down. Before pulling out of the arena parking lot, he saw he had missed texts from Ilya. He was almost too tired to respond, but seeing that his boyfriend had tried to cheer him up made him smile. 

 

Jane: I just feel stupid. 

Jane: Ha! In your dreams.
Jane: It hurts. Probably will hurt a lot more tomorrow honestly, but nothing was broken and no concussion, so could have been worse. 

 

He shouldn't have made that remark, he knew it as soon as it came out of his mouth. It was just such a stupid dig, that's the thing. It wasn’t even clever, it was honestly just kind of mean. The moment played on loop in his head like a broken record. “I would have thought you'd see that shot coming, with your huge bug eyes and everything. Bummer I was still able to get past you, huh?” And then nothing but searing pain in the middle of his face. The next thing Shane remembered was a member of the medical team asking how many fingers she was holding up. He drove home in complete silence. 

 

Someone was in his house. Shane pulled up to the driveway and saw a light on in the kitchen window that he knew he shut off before he left. He wasn't supposed to be at his parents airbnb until tomorrow, but maybe his mom came over? Or maybe he was in the process of getting robbed. But a robber wouldn't turn on lights, right? Either way, Shane quietly pulled a hockey stick out of the trunk of his car. He was small, but he had the strength of a professional athlete. He pulled out his phone in case he needed to dial 911. 

 

As he was approaching the front door, it swung open. Shane raised the hockey stick above his head to strike, but there was no one there. This was so strange, maybe he’d been hit harder than he thought. Walking into his house, he saw three poorly wrapped gift baskets on the table surrounded by a bunch of candles. Shane walked over to them and jumped when he heard Ilya’s voice. He had been standing just out of eye shot behind the wall next to the front door. 

 

“Surprise!” he shouted. He was smiling until he saw Shane’s face after he whipped around to look at Ilya. He was in the early stages of two black eyes and his nose was swollen and red. He wrapped his arms around himself and started crying, the adrenaline from the game as well as thinking he was getting robbed suddenly crashed down and left him feeling hollow. Ilya quickly closed the distance between them and hugged Shane. “I am sorry, Moya lyubov, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He reluctantly let go of Shane and closed the front door, immediately returning as soon as he heard the lock click. “Come, sit down.” He led Shane to the couch and put his arms around him as huge, heaving sobs wracked his body. Ilya made a point to say the things he needed to hear as a child. “It’s okay that you don’t win. You did your best and you are good enough. It’s okay to be sad. I know it still hurts, but you will be okay.” As he stilled, catching his breath, Ilya ran his thumb along Shane’s cheek, gently wiping away his tears. “I hate that man for what he did to you. Good thing it is impossible to wreck your pretty face. You are so beautiful.” Shane sniffed. 

 

“I didn’t even say hi. God I’m the worst boyfriend ever.” 

 

“You have had big night. Don’t worry about that, sweetheart.” He continued to hold Shane until he was fully calm, running his hands through the still damp black hair and rocking slightly to help ground him. 

 

“I’m so glad to see you.” Shane said. “I thought I wouldn’t see you for another week.” He sighed deeply and placed his hand on Ilya’s cheek. “You always know what I need.” Ilya smiled at him and kissed the tip of his nose so gently Shane could barely feel it. 

 

“You played well tonight. And there is no shame in being #2. You should be used to this after so many years playing against me.” He teased. 

 

“Fuck you!” Shane said, in mock offense. “That’s not what the skills test said!” 

 

“Why does everyone keep bringing this up? Was basically a tie!” Shane hummed doubtfully. 

 

“A win is a win, mon amour.” 

 

“Oh Mr. world traveller over here, showing off speaking French.” 

 

“Do you know what city you’re in right now? Not exactly foreign soil.” They both laughed. 

 

“I am glad to see your smile, mon amour.” The French words sounded boxy and foreign in Ilya’s mouth, which caused Shane to laugh again. 

 

“What’s on the table?” Shane asked, finally remembering that there was something there.” 

 

“Well…” Ilya grinned mischievously, “I know you were upset about not getting a nice WAG basket. And you deserve to have all four since you made it through all four rounds. I am not sure if I did this right, though.” He stood up and grabbed the first and smallest basket and handed it to Shane who was still sitting on the couch. Usually, the Voyageurs players’ baskets weren’t in actual baskets; they were more like care packages. Shane supposed at some point they probably used to do baskets, hence the name, but nowadays most women just sent everything in a cardboard box to ensure nothing was lost in transit to the hotels. Ilya’s basket looked like one of the ones at the grocery store near Easter time, but tiny. It was woven and clumsily wrapped in cellophane. “The woman at the store said I needed a bag to put the basket in, but I do not see the point of this. But for you I wanted the best, so I bought the bags.” 

 

“It’s perfect, Ilya. I thought you never listened to your voicemail.” Shane said, tears beginning to well up again. 

 

“Oh no, what’s wrong now? I do bad job?” 

 

“Nothing like that. I..” He swallowed hard. “I love it. It’s perfect.” He said again, his voice thick with emotion. “The WAGs typically don’t put this much effort into them, is all. At least not until the last one.”  

 

“Well of course! I am best WAG.” He smiled proudly, puffing out his chest. “I should call Kip, tell him I have already won award for best hockey boyfriend.”

 

“Do you even have Kip’s number?” Shane asked? “Also, I had thought that too. Hayden said they should change it to SAPs, spouses and partners." 

 

“His number would not be hard to get, I’m sure. People really like me, you know. Hm, I don’t know if I can be your SAP. Sounds dirty. But maybe you like it because it sounds dirty. You can be my SAP!” Ilya smiled brightly. “I have wanted to be your WAG since I first saw those cute freckles, so do not take this from me Hollander. Go on, open.” 

 

Shane went to the kitchen and returned with a pair of scissors. He carefully sliced through the cellophane to get to the contents of the basket. Inside were the traditional items he was used to: tape (the kind he used,) wax (also correct,) and a pair of fuzzy socks in Montreal blue. 

 

“I got the ones that were all one color so they would not make you crazy. See?” Ilya grabbed the sock and turned it inside out. “Smooth as a bottom of baby.” 

 

“It’s perfect, Ilya.” He said for a third time. “Thank you.” 

 

“Do not thank me yet! You still have three more baskets to open.”  Ilya retrieved the second from the dining room table. “This one was hardest one for me. I know how to give small things and big things, but what is medium size gift?” Shane untied the ribbon and removed the second basket. Inside this one was a new bottle of shampoo and conditioner of the same brand Ilya used. “I hope you like. It makes my hair so soft, and this one is for straight hair. Lady at Ulta said would be good for your… stick uppies?” He ran his hands through Shane’s hair, playing with the hair that stood on end around Shane’s crown. “I thought it smelled good too. I know you don’t like overpowering smells so this is, what did she say, subtle. She also taught me this word! Thought maybe you could take to the arena and keep in the locker room. You are always boring me with all your complaining about the shampoo there.” They both laughed as Shane opened the cap off the bottle and took a whiff. “Keep opening!” The next items were again perfect: a new pair of hockey skate guards, a pair of rubber ducks dressed as hockey players, (one in Voyageurs colors and one in Ottawa’s) and a funko pop. 

 

“You gave me a funko pop of yourself?” Shane held it up, inspecting the box. He opened it, and Ilya physically cringed. 

 

“You are supposed to - ah okay well now the box is ripped. I guess this is fine. Something to remember me by when we are apart.” Shane was touched by his thoughtfulness. “Do you like?” 

 

“I love it. Thank you, you really didn’t have to go to all the troub-” 

 

“I did.” Ilya cut him off, suddenly very serious. “You watched your teammates open gifts many times for years, and I could not send one to you. This wasn’t just for you. I wanted to support my boyfriend like any woman who made the unfortunate mistake of dating any of your teammates.” Ilya kissed him gently, being careful to avoid any swollen or injured-looking parts of Shane’s face. “Next basket time!” He jumped up and grabbed the third basket off the kitchen table, setting it down in front of Shane on his coffee table. 

 

“This one was also hard. Medium but bigger than other medium.” Shane noticed that the baskets themselves were also getting more elaborate as he went on. This one had a blue ribbon woven into the rim and handles. It had a fitted lid and a blue gingham liner. 

 

“It looks like we’re about to go on a romantic picnic.” Shane teased. 

 

“Would you like that? I could pack one in here, I suppose. This summer, we will go.” He removed some items that had already been opened to put them back on the dining room table and threw away wrapping paper and trash. “Here, basket three.” Inside there was a new wallet, a tiny bronze statue sculpted artistically in the shape of a hockey player, and a pair of Nike high tops. The shoes were white with black leather accents and red soles. “This guy I have named Dmitri, after my childhood coach.” Ilya said, picking up the statue. “I saw him at an art fair some of the guys and I happened to stumble upon when we played in Columbus a few months ago. See, they have the same mustache!” He held it up to give Shane a better look of the face. 

 

“My childhood coach had a mustache like that too!” Shane beamed, delighted at the memory. “I actually got to see him when I was visiting my parents for Thanksgiving in October. Still has it, that guy! Looked like a little grey caterpillar!” They both laughed at that. 

 

“I will have to tell you about Dmitri one day! He was tough but without him, I don’t know if I would be here in your living room.” Ilya handed the bronze player to Shane to put back in the basket. 

 

“Then, Dmitri it is. In honor of the guidance that led you to me.” They locked eyes for a moment as Ilya was filled with so much love for his boyfriend he felt like he was going to melt right into the floor. He swallowed and cleared his throat. 

 

“You still have one more, the finalist basket, you know.” Shane peered around Ilya to look at the table. 

 

“Where is it?” 

 

“Hiding. I am sure you will find it soon enough. But not tonight. Come to bed. You are tired and will soon be grumpy.” Shane made a grumpy face to prove Ilya right. 

 

“You know how to fix that.” He said coyly. He jumped and wrapped his legs around Ilya, who walked him down the hall to Shane’s bedroom. Ilya lowered him gently onto the bed, his mouth not leaving Shane’s, hungry after weeks separated during the brutal schedule of playoffs. He was fully planning to have his fill of Shane all summer, but he was starving to touch him now. He kneeled on the bed and put a palm on Shane’s chest, pushing him back onto the bed. 

 

He was straddling Shane now, the hallway light flooding in from the open door, illuminating the dark room. He could feel the strain of his boyfriend’s growing bulge in his suit pants. Eager to make him comfortable, Ilya stood and unbuckled Shane’s belt and pulled off his suit pants and underwear in one swift motion. At the same time, Shane began to tug at Ilya’s shirt. He let him pull it over his head. Typically, Ilya wouldn’t hesitate to get a partner naked in a few seconds flat, but he wanted to take his time with Shane’s undershirt to ensure it didn’t catch his nose. 

 

Ilya, was now reduced to shorts alone, and Shane was completely laid bare. Ilya ground his hips into Shane’s, their erections sliding together, separated only by the thin cotton. 

 

“These,” Shane panted, grabbing at Ilya’s waistband, “Off.” Ilya moaned and nodded, wordlessly, sliding them down off his body. “Mmm” Shane said, his whole body vibrating with the sound. “Didn’t realize you’d be commando under there. Eager.” There was heat in his eyes that bore into Ilya, even in the dim light. 

 

“Yes. Scoot up.” He responded. Shane immediately complied, moving back to lay against the headboard. He tossed a bottle of lube to Ilya who immediately began warming it in his fingers. “Kiss me.” He leaned forward and stopped just shy of Shane. “I will kiss gently” 

 

“I’m not made of glass just because I got punched in the face.” Shane was indignant. “It’s happened before, it’ll happen again. Occupational hazard. I’ve already wallowed about it, will you just give me a proper kiss?” Ilya pulled back, and Shane felt his cheeks warm, embarrassed at his outburst. “Please?” 

 

“My, my, bossy today, I see.” Shane could feel the smile on Ilya’s lips as he closed the distance between the two of them. “Bend your legs.” He circled a slick finger around Shane’s hole, allowing him to relax before inserting a finger. Shane hissed in pleasure. Ilya took his time getting him ready, allowing tension to build and wane. Finally, when Shane was practically begging, he lined himself up and inserted, feeling the heat surrounding him as he sank in. He stilled, allowing the sensation to wash over him. He began thrusting, slow at first then hot and fast. Shane arched into him, thrusting himself deeper. Ilya was grateful that they had moved beyond the hotel hookups because his man was loud. When he was uninhibited, he had no concept of an “inside voice.” Shane’s hips bucked and his untouched dick flailed around, clearly trying to grab Ilya’s attention. He grabbed Shane’s dick with his lubed hand and began stroking at a leisurely pace. 

 

“Yeah, Ilya, right there.” Shane encouraged. They let themselves be lost to pleasure as they enjoyed each others’ bodies, touching and caressing and truly making love. Ilya felt the change in Shane as he continued to pound into him. “God, Ilya, I’m.. Ilya, I’m -” his whole body tensed as pleasure ripped through him like waves. Quickly after he came down and was so sensitive it was almost too much, he felt the heat of Ilya’s release inside him also as he cried out and stilled. He stayed inside for a moment, both men trying to catch their breath. Ilya pulled out slowly and cradled Shane’s face in his hands. 

 

“You are my world.” He whispered in Russian. 

 

“Hm?” Shane replied sleepily. Russian was not happening for him right now, no matter how much he wanted to know what Ilya had said. He’d ask tomorrow. 

 

“Let’s get cleaned up and ready for bed. Ya lyublyu tebya” 

 

“I know that one. Ya lyublyu tebya” Ilya crawled off the bed and walked to the en suite bathroom, flipping on the lights and wincing at the brightness. “I have got to get a dimmer for those” Shane said as he covered his eyes with a pillow. He followed his boyfriend and headed to the sink to grab his toothbrush. “I’m really glad you came to Montreal. I needed you more than I realized.” Ilya just smiled and ran his hands through Shane’s messed hair in response. 

 

Ilya needed to use the restroom so eventually he booted Shane out of the bathroom. Yes they were in a long term relationship, but he some pride left. By the time he joined Shane in the bed, he could already hear faint snores coming from the opposite side. Ilya nuzzled down into Shane’s neck and hooked his leg over his hip. It wasn’t long before he joined his Shane in sleep.

Chapter 6

Shane was gone when Ilya woke up. His side of the bed was cool so Ilya knew that he hadn’t been there for a while. He got a pair of underwear from his drawer in Shane’s dresser and padded down the hallway, his bare feet slapping the wooden floor. 

 

“Shane?” He called. “Where did you go?” 

 

“I’m in here!” sounded a miserable voice. Ilya followed the sound and found Shane, still naked and sitting on the couch, eating what looked like a bowl of ice cream. 

 

“Do I need to call crisis counselor?” Ilya asked tentatively. “Are we eating our feelings this early in the morning?” 

 

“It’s low sugar, non-fat frozen yogurt.” He said, his mouth full. “But yes, I am eating my feelings.” 

 

“I’m surprised you keep such a delicacy in the house.” Ilya made a disgusted face and walked over to sit next to Shane on the couch. He picked up the spoon from the bowl and took a tiny bite. “You can have the rest of that.” He said, sticking out his tongue and shaking his head. “I am looking forward to pancakes later.” 

 

“Pancakes? Are you making them?” 

 

“No, David is. He tells me he bought chocolate chips for me! And Quebec maple syrup, the good stuff.” 

 

“My dad? OH my god today’s Hollander pj day! I forgot all about it. I can’t believe they still insist on doing this every year. I’m not seven years old anymore… Wait. You’re going to Hollander pj day? How’d you even find out about it?” 

 

“Your mother invited me. I think this is wonderful! You spend whole season being Mr. responsible adult. Is good to remember that the child inside still needs to be cared for once in a while.” 

 

“When did you get to be so wise? Ilya laughed once and stood, taking the bowl from him. 

 

“You should not be punishing yourself with this nonsense, Shane. Save room for chocolate chip pancakes.” Ilya narrowed his eyes at him, negating his objection before it even was voiced. “Yuna got blueberries for you, but you must have one with chocolate. I insist.” 

 

“Fine.” Shane flopped onto his side and sighed heavily. “It doesn’t matter now anyways I guess. We lost the cup cause of my big mouth. What's the point of being the fastest and strongest if I’m not even on the ice?” Ilya laughed. 

 

“I don’t know about you, but I remember there being more than just you on the ice. You are not the entire Montreal team. Your team lost, not you. You did your best but sometimes other teams are just better.” He shrugged and scoffed. “Ask me how I know that I can’t win alone.” Shane looked like he was going to say something but didn’t answer. “What did you even say to him anyways?” 

 

“Nothing even clever, I just told him I was surprised that he didn’t see the shot coming with his big bug eyes.” Ilya cackled. 

 

“Shane Hollander! You kiss your mother with that tongue?” He teased. Shane looked repulsed and wrinkled his nose. 

 

“The saying is ‘you kiss your mother with that mouth.’ I don’t kiss my mom with tongue at all.” They both laughed until their sides hurt. Ilya took the bowl to the kitchen, rinsing the rest of the frozen yogurt down the drain. 

 

“When did you wake up?” Ilya asked as he walked back into the room. 

 

“I don’t even know. What time is it now?” 

 

“Just past 8.” Ilya replied, craning to see the clock on the microwave. 

 

“Probably around 7:15 then, I guess. I thought about doing my usual morning yoga, but I couldn’t get past the breathing exercises.” 

 

“I am glad you didn’t!” Ilya said, surprising Shane with his forcefulness. “I promised your father you would not!” 

 

“What? When did you talk to my dad?”

“Last night, after the game. He drove me here from the arena. Did you think I walked from Ottawa?” 

 

“I guess I didn’t think about it. Wait, you were at the arena? You didn’t watch on TV?” 

 

“Weibe wanted us to see in person. Gave us little notebooks and everything for something if we wanted to copy next season. The rest of the team rode the bus last night. I said I had old friend in Montreal to visit, arranged my own ride back.” He waited a beat before yawning and scratching his belly. “Come, you and I are going back to bed.”

 

“Ilya, I’m kinda not in the mood.” Shane said, a bit offended at his boyfriend’s lack of romanticism. 

 

“I would like to sleep more, pervert.” He teased. “You should too. At least come lay with me if you will not sleep. Relax, моя лампа, it is summer now. This is our time to be together.” 

 

“Don’t call me your lamp.” Shane smiled. “You’re right, though. Let’s go back to bed.” Ilya reached for his hand and led him back down the hallway. They made quick work of straightening the blankets before snuggling under them, and Shane dangled his arm across Ilya’s waist. “I’m so glad you’re here.” He said and kissed Ilya on the forehead.” 

 

“You said that yesterday.” Ilya mumbled sleepily. 

 

“And I’m just as glad today too.” They both ended up sleeping for another hour and a half. 

 

*****

 

The sun shone in Ilya’s eyes, and he stirred. Looking down at his Shane, he could see that the puffiness in his face from last night had translated into angry purple bruises under both of his eyes. He knew that the doctors would not have sent him home last night with a concussion or a broken nose, so he took some small comfort that Shane was able to walk away with just two black eyes. He chuckled again, thinking of what Shane told him earlier, about the St. Louis player’s bug eyes. It was just such a Shane thing to say, and the player really did have huge bulging eyes. 

 

“What are you laughing at?” Shane asked grumpily, his eyes not open yet. 

 

“You look like panda, my love.” Ilya said gently. “But the cutest one I have ever seen.” Shane groaned and pulled the blankets up over his head. 

 

“It is just past 9:30. Do you want to get up or should we stay here?” 

 

“We probably should get up, I think. My parents are expecting us around 10:30. It’s a 20-minute drive from here to their air bnb, I checked yesterday.” 

 

“Okay. Did you hunt for the fourth basket yet?” Ilya pulled back down the duvet and kissed the top of Shane’s head. 

 

“No.” Shane smiled. “I wanted to wait for you.” Ilya was the most excited for this one, so he was relieved to hear it. 

 

“Good!” He beamed. “Is the most special one. Go find!” Shane flung off the covers and walked toward the door, shaking his bare ass quickly at Ilya before he left the bedroom, making them both laugh. Ilya grabbed his phone from the charger on the nightstand. He would give Shane about 5 minutes before giving any hints. His twitter feed was flooded with gifs from last night’s game. Several of his fellow players had congratulated the Braves. He probably should too, he supposed. 

 

Ilya Rosavov
@IlyaRosanovHockey2008 

Congratulations to the players and coaches who took home the Stanley Cup last night. @StLouisBraves you better watch out for Ottawa next year! 😇 #hockey #stanleycup2020 #Centaurs2021

 

His replies were immediately filled with laughing emojis from both players and fans alike. 

 

Zane Boodram
@BoodDude69 

Hell yeah, this guy knows what’s up! #centaurs2021

 

Kip Grady 

@arthistorynerd13

In your dreams, Rosanov! I’m expecting my husband to bring it home next year. 😌 #Admirals2021

 

Ilya Rosanov 

@IlyaRosanovHockey2008

Maybe if he was not 300 years old @arthistorynerd13 😉

 

Ilya was brought back to reality when Shane appeared in the doorway. “Are you sure there are four baskets? I looked everywhere.” 

 

“Hm, did you check in your trophy room? I hear that is a good spot to hide things.” 

 

“I did! Unless you put it in the actual case - Which I guess you might have. Be right back!” He turned and ran, giggling as his feet pounded the floor. This was working even better than Ilya hoped to lift his mood. 

 

“I got it!” A voice yelled, barely audible from where Ilya was in the bedroom. He put his phone back on the nightstand and met Shane in the living room. “I don’t know how I missed this.” He said, lifting up the basket. It had no lid or liner and was painted gold. “Did you get it this way or did you paint it?” 

 

“Ah, I would say I found it that way, but I’m sure you will see the golden spot in my grass from the spray paint, and it will give away my answer.” Shane laughed and dropped the basket onto the coffee table. The first things he saw immediately made his eyes prickle with tears. He pulled out a pair of matching jerseys, both with the Irina foundation logo on the front. The back of one jersey read “Coach Hollander” and the other “Coach Rosanov.” The jerseys were inverses of each other; Ilya’s was white fabric and navy lettering with baby blue accents. Shane’s was navy with white letters and the same baby blue accents. 

 

“I thought we would want to show a united front this summer! I thought we could get more made for other players who help coach, but seeing as how we’re the founders of the charity, I thought we should get the prototypes first.” 

 

“These are so cool! I hadn’t even thought of what we’d wear. Probably some blank practice jerseys.” 

 

“Well these are better. Matching helmet is in there too.” Ilya said, pointing to the coffee table. Mine is at home, there was only room for one.” Shane laid the jerseys on the back of the couch. The helmet was in the lighter blue shade with the Irina foundation decal on the left side. He placed it gently on top of his own jersey. He continued pulling out item after item from the basket. Deodorant, the fancy kind that Shane liked, a new helmet repair kit, cooling towels, and a tiny plastic trophy cup with the words “World’s #1 Boyfriend” engraved on the front. 

 

“Now what am I gonna do with this?” Shane laughed. 

 

“I thought it was cute! You could keep in your bedroom. Or put in trophy room, no one will notice with everything else in there. But look inside first.” Shane tilted the cup to look inside. There was a small leather bracelet with the words “I love you with all my heart” engraved on the inside. “Is…” He hesitated for a beat, trying to remember the word “Subtle. You don’t have to wear it all the time, I just thought it would be good to have a reminder of me that only you know about.” 

 

“I love it. Thank you, Ilya, really. This is way better than anything I’d imagined. Way better than the WAGs usually even do.” He walked over to Ilya with his arm outstretched to have him help with the bracelet. 

 

“We already went over this. I am best WAG to ever exist!” Ilya said as he tightened the bracelet around Shane’s arm. “There is more, don’t stop now!” Shane smiled and reached back into the basket. He pulled out more matching clothing, this time pajama pants. They were the same cut and pattern, just different colors. It finally occurred to Shane that he was still naked, and had been all morning. 

 

“I’m guessing one of these is for you?” He eyed Ilya, lounging with his hands folded on his head. He was wearing nothing himself but the blue boxer briefs he’d grabbed this morning. “I think my parents have a ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’” policy, and I don’t think you have any more pjs here. 

 

“Yes, but I will let you pick. I couldn’t decide which one you would like more. I have shirt in my bag.” Shane laid out the pajama pants, both plaid and made from the softest material he had felt in a while. “I think I’ll take the red and black pants. You can have the blue ones.” He tossed the pants at Ilya. “And I suppose this is the shirt that goes with them?” Shane held it up to read the text on the front. “#1 Rosanov fan? Really?” 

 

“I found this on etsy! I am very popular, you know.” Shane rolled his eyes. 

 

At the bottom of the basket, there was a small draw-string backpack. He lifted it and looked at Ilya. “You put a bag inside a basket?” 

 

“Is for the cottage! You will need this there if you want me to join you for all summer.” Ilya smiled conspiratorially, and Shane gave him a puzzled look. 

 

“I have just about everything we could possibly need? What do you - Ilya!” Heat rushed up his cheeks and red flooded his face. “Do you think this will be enough!” Filling the bag were dozens of small bottles of lube. Ilya laughed loudly and stood up, crossing the living room to hold Shane’s hand. 

 

“Look how embarrassed you are! Is nothing to be ashamed of, my dear, we are in our prime!” He beamed. “Is good to have one in every room, yes?” 

 

“It’s maybe a bit much. Doesn’t this stuff expire?” Ilya winked at him. 

 

“Well we should really make sure we use it then. Wouldn’t want to waste.” He whispered as he began to kiss Shane’s jaw and down his neck. 

 

“I don’t know if we have time before we have to leave for my parents’.” Shane warned. Turns out, they did in fact, have time. 

Chapter 7

Ilya and Shane stood in their coordinating pajamas on the doorstep of the Hollanders’ airbnb at promptly 10:30. Ilya was starving, having not eaten anything since before the Centaurs left for Montreal the day before. His parents hadn’t unlocked the door yet, and Ilya could tell Shane was nervous being so visible in the neighborhood. They were both wearing sunglasses and baseball hats, so from a distance you really couldn’t even tell who it was, but Shane was always nervous where there could be watching eyes.

Yuna opened the door and waved them in. She was wearing a satin matching set that was dark red with white ribbon details. Her hair was in a bun and she had pink fuzzy slippers on her feet. Ilya had never seen either of Shane’s parents when they didn’t look expertly put together, so this side of them was completely unfamiliar to him. After his mom died, Ilya’s father ran the house like he ran his police squad. He and Andrei were to be up, dressed, and ready for the day before they left their rooms. It had been probably 20 years since he had spent an entire day in his pjs, and he couldn’t wait.

“David’s got the pancakes just about done, and bacon is in the oven. We have regular, peameal, and turkey bacon to choose from. Pancakes will be chocolate chip, banana, and blueberry. Shane, I also got low sugar syrup for you. I’m sure you boys must be hungry!” She finally noticed their matching pajama pants and shirts. She made a face like it was the cutest thing she’d ever seen. “Look at you guys in your matching jammies! See, I like this one!” she pointed to Ilya’s shirt which was similar to Shane’s except it read “#1 Hollander Fan. “This one not so much.” She waved her hand at Shane’s chest.

Shane thought about the bowl of frozen yogurt he’d had and felt a bit guilty for ruining his appetite. Luckily, Ilya didn’t mention it. Instead, he plowed right ahead after removing his shoes at the front door.

“If anyone is #1 Rosanov fan, it is this guy right here! No one else is inviting me to their cabin to stay all summer.” He winked at Yuna and walked into the kitchen to follow the smell of food. “David! Long time no see. Say, you think I can steal a piece of bacon?” his voice gradually got quieter the farther away he got from Shane and Yuna.

“How are you, honey? How’s your nose?” Yuna asked. “I know you were upset about the game, but I want you to know that your dad and I are so proud of you. Being the #2 team isn’t anything to be ashamed of. You played a great game and had a fantastic season.” She always hated seeing Shane with black eyes and bruises, but years of being a hockey mom had given her lots of practice. It definitely wasn’t the first time and she knew it wouldn’t be the last.

“I’m getting over it. Just gives me more motivation to work harder next year. And my nose is fine. Hurts a bit, but I’ll be fine.” He replied drily.

“Oh Shane, you already give it everything you’ve got. I don’t want you to burn out or injure yourself by pushing too hard. You can’t win them all.” Shane started to argue, but he was cut off by a very enthusiastic Ilya.

“Everything is ready! Shane, help me carry to table.” He said with a piece of bacon dangling from his mouth. All three Hollanders laughed.

“I guess I’ve been summoned.” He said to his mom, and they both laughed. Shane was happy for the distraction and that they had something to do besides just stare at each other.

Ilya was delighted to see that Shane not only took one chocolate chip pancake but also a piece of peameal bacon to compliment his turkey bacon. He didn’t want to make a fuss and spook Shane, so he didn’t say anything but just smiled at him. They ate until they all felt like they were about 5% bacon and 10% maple syrup.

“So!” Yuna began grabbing empty plates and Ilya jumped up to help her. “We brought battleship. I was thinking we could do a tournament? Winner picks the movie? It’s nice that you finally brought someone home so we can have an even number!” She tousled Shane’s hair who gave her a very teenager “mom, stop” look.

“Finally! You Canadians have never seen The Woman Who Sings! Is classic Russian movie from Soviet era. We can watch with sub-titles for you. Will also be good for Shane’s pronunciation” He winked at him before heading into the kitchen with a stack of dirty cups and utensils.

“You actually have to win first before you pick the movie, Ilya.” Shane called after him. Ilya just laughed in response. Unfortunately for everyone else, he did end up winning the tournament. Fortunately, the movie was actually pretty good.

After dinner, Ilya dished himself a large bowl of cookies & cream ice cream. He’d tried to convince Shane to take even a small bowl, but without luck. He’d already had chocolate today (and ice cream, well, frozen yogurt) so he didn’t want to push it. Ilya knew that once Shane had made up his mind, there was little he could do to sway him, so he just enjoyed his own bowl. They hadn’t planned to stay much longer, and Ilya could tell Shane was just about ready to go back home. He was a chronic homebody and Ilya knew he would start to get a bit grumpy soon. He finished his ice cream and went to the kitchen to help Yuna with the rest of the dishes.

“Oh, you’re fine, go sit down honey.” Ilya waved her away as he rinsed out his bowl and put it in the dishwasher.

“Let me help. It has been a long time since I have had such nice day, especially with family.” Yuna put her hand on his shoulder.

“Okay.” She said thickly. She knew about Ilya’s messed up childhood, but they had never discussed it directly. “I’m glad you were able to come. I know Shane must have been in a mood last night but I’m glad he was able to come home to you.”

“I am glad that I was there for him.” He smiled devilishly. “Is good anyways. He will need to practice losing when I turn Ottawa around!” That made them both laugh. They worked together in comfortable silence until the kitchen was clean and the dishwasher was humming quietly. “I think we’re going to go soon.” He said quietly. “Thank you for today.”

“We love having you. It’s been so wonderful to get to know you over this last season. We’ll only be 20 minutes away while you guys are at the cabin if you need anything.” Ilya hugged her quickly and left the kitchen. In the living room, David and Shane were watching a documentary about bird species native to Canada.

“You ready to go Мой карандаш? Or are you too busy enjoying boring bird show?”

“It’s not boring!” Shane retorted, not looking away from the TV. “And don’t call me your pencil. But yes, I am ready.” He stood, stretching out his back. “Alright dad -” He started toward his father, but David was already snoring quietly. He decided to let him be and found his mom. They spoke briefly in hushed tones and Ilya couldn’t make out what they were saying. She hugged him tightly, slightly rocking back and forth as she did.

Both men got their shoes on and gathered their belongings. They waved at Yuna as they quietly made their way out the door and back into Shane’s car.

“That was nice.” Ilya said as they drove off. “I cannot remember the last time I spent so long in pajamas. Is fun, yes?” He smiled brightly.

“I guess? I think we’re a little old though. I don’t know, I guess it would feel weird not to have Hollander pj day after so many years. It was my dad’s idea when I was like 6 I think? My parents liked the idea so much we just kind of never stopped.” He shrugged, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Well, when does Hollander pj day end?” Ilya asked slyly. “I think you may need to take these off to do what I have planned for our evening.” Shane laughed and his cheeks turned pink.

“Oh, will I now? I think that can probably be arranged.”

*****

They barely made it inside before Shane pounced Ilya, pressing their mouths together as they both tried and mostly failed to take their shoes off. Eventually they were both laughing too hard to keep kissing, so they stopped and quickly removed all of their clothes just inside the door.

They were still giggling when they fell naked into bed. Both men ran their hands all over each other, still relishing the time to be together. They knew that they had the rest of the summer to be together, but their time was so precious they acted with urgency even when they had time. Ilya wanted this time together to be different. He wanted the whole world to cease to exist except for just the two of them, their souls dancing like stars colliding.

He rolled them over so he was on top of Shane, pinning him to the mattress. He hoisted Shane’s hands above his head and kissed along his jaw and down his neck. He started nipping at his collarbone, leaving small bruises and listening to his fiance’s moans as a reward. Ilya winked at Shane before sliding down and taking his hard dick in his mouth.

Shane sucked in a breath and let out a loud, relaxed moan.

“Mmm, That’s nice.” He said absently. Ilya took his time, switching up his cadence every few minutes to keep his boyfriend present and wanting. “You’re gonna need to fuck me if you want me to last.” Shane gritted through his teeth.

“As you wish, moya lyubov.” Ilya met Shane’s mouth again, and the two just kissed and touched for a long time, both of them occasionally reaching down to play with the other’s balls or jerk them off for a few seconds.

“I love taking it slow like this.” Shane moaned.

“Me too. We have nowhere to be for weeks! I plan to take my time with you.” Ilya replied, his voice dripping with desire. “Can you hand me the lube, sweetheart?” Shane reached around to the headboard where they had put the lube this morning and handed it to Ilya wordlessly.

He drizzled a bit on his fingers and slipped one inside Shane, stroking his prostate gently. Shane whined and bucked his hips. It wasn’t long at all until he was loose and ready, but Ilya took his time before he got up to enter Shane. Ilya stroked himself quickly, stifling a moan as he did so. He applied more lube onto his hard cock and stroked once more to coat it. He entered Shane and sank back down until he was on his forearms, centimeters above his boyfriend. He caressed his cheek and kissed him slowly. Shane stared into his eyes as he began to move his hips, making Ilya sink deeper into him.

“You’re beautiful” Ilya said, and ran his hand through Shane’s hair.

“I have two black eyes, Ilya.” He argued halfheartedly.

“And you are the most beautiful raccoon I have ever seen.” Shane blushed and laughed a bit, making Ilya squirm. “You said panda this morning. I like that one better.”

“There’s no one I like better than you.” Ilya said. He started thrusting slowly until they found their rhythm. Unconsciously, he started going faster and faster until he found himself right on the brink of orgasm. He stilled inside Shane who whined,

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just not ready to come yet. Still want to feel you.” Shane nodded and hummed happily; he kept bucking his hips, making it hard for Ilya to not move himself. When he was confident he could keep going, he did.

“You’re so good at this, god!” Shane growled. “Ilya, I’m so close.”

“Stroke yourself. I am too.” Shane jerked wildly until he came with a yell. Ilya, feeling Shane pulsing around him couldn’t hold back any longer and joined him. Ilya carefully pulled out and flopped down next to Shane, face down.

“That good, huh?” The dark-haired man laughed again. “God, you’re so good, I love it so much. I'm so excited for this summer.”

“Will be the best, because you are the best. I love you, my Shanya.”

“I love you Ilya. With all my heart.”

Chapter 8

Chapter Notes

This is a time skip to September 2020

Ilya loved the first practice of the season. There was a new rookie starting, and he was excited to see what he was made of. Luca Haas was the 2nd draft pick overall, and though they had never met in person, Ilya had been watching him in the juniors since he had been selected for Ottawa. He was a good player, smart and fast, but he was timid. He was exactly the kind of rookie Ilya loved. He loved empowering people to be the best they can be and bringing them out of their shells. 

 

He and Shane had said their goodbyes three days ago. After spending so much time together, Ilya felt like his heart would rip in two when he left. If the distance had been difficult before, it was unbearable after spending the whole summer waking up to Shane, going on walks with Shane, loving Shane. The summer before they’d had a bit of time together, but Ilya was preoccupied with visas and moving and all the logistics and paperwork that comes with it, so in all actuality they only got a few weeks together. They had texted briefly of course, but Shane was busy with pre-season promos. When he was with Boston, Ilya had usually spent the week leading up to the first practice doing all kinds of photoshoots, interviews, and short videos. His first year on the Centaurs, he showed up in a suit to Harris’s office ready to do his pre-season captain interview before the first practice, but learned that the league really only gave that kind of attention to the top teams. The teams at the bottom of the pile had a few remarks taken from the coach, but no one really paid attention to the captain all that much at this level, even if he was Ilya Rosanov. Harris had tried to assure him that they’d be on top next year with him there, and he could still do an interview for the team’s Instagram? Ilya had been too embarrassed at the time to agree to that. He wished he would have, now though. 

 

As usual, he was the first one in the locker room. He quickly changed into his practice gear and waited for the rest of the team to trickle in. Ilya was very pleased to see Luca show up second. 

 

“Haas! You know practice does not start for another 45 minutes, yes? I am Ilya, please call me Captain Rosanov.” He sauntered over with his hand outstretched. Luca looked like he was entirely unprepared for a formal introduction. He quickly shifted around his gear bags to give him a free hand, struggling under the weight of them all. His cheeks quickly pinked as he stuck out his own hand for a shake. Ilya decided to have some fun with this kid. 

 

“Yes, uh, sorry. Hi, um, hello captain Rosanov. I hadn’t been to the arena since right after I was drafted. I think um, oh what was his name, Harry? Showed me around quickly, but I wanted to get here before practice started to have a feel for the ice, ya know? I…” He hesitated, looking very sheepish. “I thought that I’d be able to get some time without anyone watching me.” Ilya laughed; this was going to be even more fun than he thought. 

 

“Harris.” Ilya corrected. “Why? Do you fall like baby gazelle on ice?” 

 

“What? No? I mean, sometimes we wipe out, sure, but I know how to skate.” 

 

“We? Is no such thing, I have never fallen on the ice.” Ilya looked very serious. He knew he was joking, but Luca definitely didn’t, judging by the horrified look on his face. Ilya had a reputation to uphold after all, and he certainly wasn’t going to let any rookies think that he had gone soft after signing with Ottawa. 

 

“Oh! Um, I didn’t mean to imply... I mean, I’ve never seen it during a game, I just assumed, I mean, everyone falls now and then, right? But not you, though, of course!” Ilya suppressed a grin but didn’t reply. Luca changed tactic. “Um, where am I supposed to…?” He gestured to all his gear. “Can I leave some of this here when I leave, or do we take it back and forth? I don’t want to assume things are the same in the NHL as they were in juniors, but when I was with my old team-” 

 

“You’re not with your old team anymore. You are a Centaur as of today. You do things our way now. But yes, please keep most of your gear here. Your stall is over here. The crew will make sure you have what you need for away games.” He walked to the other side of the room and pointed to an empty stall with the name “Luca Haas” written on a piece of masking tape in sharpie at the bottom. “Do not decorate with so many pictures of your girlfriend like Hazy does with his wife.” The stall next to Luca’s was filled with pictures of her. Some of them were selfies of the two of them, but most of them looked like candid photos. It surprised Ilya initially that Hayes wanted to put up so many photos of his wife, and later his sister and her wife and son, until he got to know him. After that, he thought it made all the sense in the world. 

 

“I, um, I don’t have a -” 

 

“Come, you and I will feel the ice together.” He suddenly turned and sat back on the bench to put on his skates. Luca seemed frozen in place before realizing that he was still holding all of his gear. He slumped the bags down off his shoulders and began unloading them. Ilya finished lacing his skates and started towards the rink. He was almost out of earshot when he heard Luca mutter under his breath “so much for a good first impression.” Almost. He chuckled to himself as he strode down the hallway and out onto the ice. 

 

For just a second, Ilya allowed himself to be 13 again as he warmed up. When he was 13, his mother’s absence haunted his heart and house. It was a nightmare to be with his father alone while Andrei was at University, especially now, but luckily for Ilya, he was a workaholic so ended up being out of the house a lot. Ilya felt suffocated by the silence and loneliness a lot back then. Hockey for Ilya wasn’t just something he was good at, though he was very good, it was his way out. He had known it when he was a teen and he knew it now - this was what was important. He could concentrate on this when everything else felt like it was crumbling down. He could still put on skates, could still whip around corners and feel the cold air sting his skin. He knew what it was like to miss someone so bad it felt like a claw had reached into his chest and taken his heart clean out. The tendrils of the sadness thrashed inside his chest and spilled out into his arms. He tried to distract himself by going faster, faster than the ache Shane had left him with when he walked out the door to go back to Montreal. He had to remind himself this was just getting a feel for home ice again. 

 

“Let’s go back, you get what you came for?” He called to Luca, his voice reverberating off the empty seats and concrete walls. Luca didn’t answer but just nodded and skated over to the entrance. Ilya and Luca returned to the locker room to greet everyone else. They hadn’t been doing anything crazy, mostly just skating laps in silence, but it was enough for both of them to start sweating under their helmets. 

 

Bood and Dykstra were unloading large bags into their decorated stalls, bringing back the gear that they’d taken home to practice with over the summer. Hayes walked in just as Ilya and Luca were coming back from the rink. There were a couple more guys following him, and excited chatter began to fill the locker room.

 

Ilya sat on the bench and observed his teammates, most of them caught up in their own conversations. The team dynamic was so much different here than anywhere else he had played hockey. He couldn’t tell what it was, but he knew that this group of guys would change his life. The people in this room are who would define the second half (and yes, he was only halfway through) of his hockey career. Coach Weibe entered the room 5 minutes before practice was officially supposed to start. Everyone had gotten there at least 10 minutes ago, so all the players were just about ready to go onto the ice and kick off the season. 

 

“Alright, settle down, settle down.” He said at a normal speaking volume. This too was strange for Ilya. His whole life had been run by men who thought shouting was the way to command respect. He was shouted at during practice by every coach he’d ever had, and he was shouted at while at home; it had become just a part of Ilya’s life. Wiebe commanded the respect of his players because he respected them back. Within moments, the boisterous men were silent and patiently waiting for instructions. “In case you haven’t noticed, we have a new face with us today! Luca, I won’t make you stand up and share a fun fact, but wave so everyone knows where ya are.” Luca lifted a hand shyly and waved around the room. He was met with thunderous applause and cheering, which clearly startled the poor boy. Bood spoke up then. 

 

“Welcome to the herd, Haas-y. We call it that cause, you know, centaurs are half horses and a group of horses is -.”

 

“Thanks, Bood, I’m sure he gets it.” Coach Weibe cut him off. Bood didn’t look offended at all, just nodded. “Now. With that squared away, let’s go over the drills I want to do today to get you guys back into it. We’ve got 3 weeks ‘til our first pre-season game and I intend to make every second count. We’ll have a short team meeting after as well, so don’t take off right away when we’re done, understood? 

 

“Yes, coach!” Everyone said in unison. 

 

***** 

Centaurs ⛸️🏒

 

Bood: BBQ at my place Saturday to kick off the season! 

 

Ilya: I’ll bring the booze 🍻

 

Hazy: I got dessert! Lisa makes a bomb banana pudding 😋

 

Luca (baby boy👶🏼): Is there anything I can bring? 

 

Ilya: No. 

 

Bood: Nope! 😀

 

Dykstra: No. 

 

Harris: Oh, don’t worry about it, hon! Just bring yourself. 

 

Harris: See you all then! 😎🍗

 

The first week of practices went as smoothly as one could hope for. Ilya liked playing with Luca so far; he was just about fast enough to keep up with Ilya’s passes. The extra speed would come with time, he assured the young rookie. Ilya had told him to just gotta keep showing up, keep working hard and he’d be surprised at the progress he could make. Ilya wasn’t in the habit of coming down to meet his teammates where they were at. They could either learn to keep up, or he would skate around them. He wasn’t expecting to win many games again this season. Maybe with the two of them they could squeak out a win here and there, but Ilya knew that the playoffs were out of reach as they stood now. Maybe next year. 

 

Ilya got out of his Mercedez SUV and stretched. He hated to admit it, but Shane was right about needing a “practical” car in Ottawa. He hated to admit it even more, but the sports cars he filled his youth with were far less comfortable at 6’3” than his SUV. Though he bailed on a lot of team outings, given that this was the first one of the season, he kinda couldn’t miss it. Plus, Bood was a really good cook. He opened the trunk and grabbed a bag containing three bottles of vodka. He also brought two cases of beer, but figured he would have to grab those on a second trip. Luckily, Luca pulled up right next to Ilya’s car as he was just about to close the trunk. 

 

“Haasy!” Ilya said brightly, hoping he was putting on the right face. He seemed to be succeeding, given Haas’s big grin in return. “Come, grab this second case of beer, will you?” 

 

“Sure, Captain Rosanov! Just give me one sec.” He grabbed a covered dish from his passenger seat. 

 

“We told you not to bring anything.” He eyed the container suspiciously. 

 

“Well, I don’t know how they do it in Canada, but I was always taught it was rude to show up empty handed.” Luca suddenly looked stricken. “But um, is that rude here? Like, would I be offending the host? I assumed it wasn’t ‘cause other people brought things, but I guess I can leave it in the car? You won’t tell him, right? Ilya burst out in laughter, definitely not making Luca feel any better. 

 

“Whatever you made is going to be great, I’m sure. It was sweet to bring something, even though you did not need to.” Ilya did feel slightly bad for Luca; he remembered what it was like to be in a new country alone and trying to figure out the nuances of culture. Luca had the benefit of having a much better handle on English than Ilya did when he first moved to Boston. Even moving from the United States to Canada had thrown him for a bigger loop than he was anticipating. 

 

“It’s just Spitzbuben. Uh, they’re like cookies with jam in the middle? My oma has a great recipe for them. I know Wyatt said he was bringing dessert, but I thought it’d be good as like a party food? My teammates in juniors liked them...” He trailed off, still looking embarrassed. Ilya looked at him seriously. 

 

“Hey, Haasy, I know it’s hard for you right now, being away from your family and friends and trying to learn about the customs in your new country. I remember what that was like. But you will find your place here. You couldn’t have asked for a better team. Well, personality wise.” 

 

“I guess, but nobody teased you like they tease me.” 

 

“Because I did not let them. If you don’t want us to tease you, just tell us. I was younger than you are now during my rookie season, you know.” Luca smiled sheepishly as Ilya closed his trunk. They headed toward Bood and Cassie’s house together. 

 

“I know. No one had the guts to be on your bad side.” 

 

“Is true I was quite… intense in my youth.” Ilya chuckled. “Probably was just a bit too mean to a few too many people, if I’m honest. But I did not have someone as wise as me as captain looking out for me. My first captain in Boston was an asshole and everyone knew it. Is part of why I was the way I was. Of course, I still am an asshole to the other teams.” He winked at Luca who blushed again. Interesting. They reached the front door and Ilya hesitated. He turned and looked at Luca again. “These are good guys, Luca. You are a great hockey player, and I look forward to getting to know you as person too. The teasing is because we like you. If we hated you, we’d all ignore you.” He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially “But word of the wise, when Bood means he puts spice on his chicken, believe him. If you don’t want more teasing, that is.” 

 

“Thanks for the heads up.” Ilya nodded and opened the door. 

 

“What is up, party people!” He boomed. “You can start having fun now, I am here. Luca is here too. He brought spit boobies even though we told him not to bring anything.” Several heads turned to look in their direction and Ilya could almost feel the heat emanating from Luca’s reddened cheeks. 

 

“Spitzbuben!” He corrected quickly. “They’re shortbread cookies with jam. It’s my oma’s recipe” He put the case of beer he was holding on the ground and awkwardly uncovered the tray to show everyone the cookies. There was an assortment of sandwich cookies with orange and red jam peeking through a hole in the top cookie, and they were all covered in powdered sugar. Ilya wanted to take one, but his hands were full. Quickly, he made his way to the kitchen to find Cassie and ask where he should put the alcohol he was carrying. After unloading everything into the cooler on the patio, he found Luca playing Mariokart with Wyatt and Harris, squished onto the basement couch. He approached the couch from behind and leaned down, his face only a few inches from the back of Luca’s head.

 

“Where’d you put the cookies, Haasy?” Immediately, Luca jumped out of his skin, sending his yellow Yoshi character right off the side of the rainbow road. Everyone erupted with laughter, and Luca maintained a grumpy face while Lakatu dropped him back on the course. 

 

“They’re on the kitchen counter, god!” He said exasperatedly, not taking his eyes off the TV screen. “You could have asked like a normal person!”  

 

“Yes, but is less fun that way. Thanks, Haasy!” Ilya called over his shoulder as he started on his mission to taste Oma Haas’s cookies. Luca was right, these were delicious. Raspberry jam was Ilya’s favorite; he was hoping the red was raspberry, but it tasted more like strawberry. He’d just have to put in an order for his birthday. Or maybe Christmas. Or maybe Canadian Thanksgiving. Or maybe all three.

Chapter 9

The party was fun, and it was a great distraction for Ilya. He snapped a couple of selfies with the boys to send to Shane. He also made sure to take pictures of the food. He needed everyone to know, especially his former teammates in Boston, that he was having a great time in Ottawa. He got a bit tipsy, maybe a little too tipsy, but he was well experienced at holding his liquor and behaving as if he were not in such a state. Slowly, the men started to leave until it was just the hosts, Wyatt, and Rosanov. Ilya was just about sobered up enough to drive, but wanted to hang out a bit longer to make sure he was fully good to go. It seemed like Wyatt was doing the same thing. They both were in the basement and the TV was quietly playing some soccer match that Tanner Dillon had wanted to watch. He’d left about an hour ago, but no one bothered to turn the TV off.

“How much longer are we going to be able to keep this up, Rozy?” Wyatt asked, his arm slung over his eyes as he slouched in his seat on the couch.

“I will be fine for many years. You, maybe not more than a few months.”

“Shut up, you big oaf.” Wyatt responded, still not looking at Ilya, but a wide grin stretched across his face. “You’re only 8 months younger than me, you know.”

“Ah yes, but Russians are built for this. To survive the long winters, you know.”

“Is that so? Everyone knows that Canadian winters are so mild too, makes sense.” He said sarcastically.

“Mmm, yes. Is nothing compared to the cold of Moscow. We need the liquid fire in our veins. You should be grateful, I bet you don’t get this kind of Vodka normally. Is hard to find in Canada.”

“Yeah maybe it was a little too smooth.” Both men laughed and hung out for a while, the announcer’s commentary quietly filling the silence. “Hey, you doing ok?” Wyatt asked in Ilya’s general direction.

“Am not hungover yet Hazy, I will need to sleep for that.” Ilya answered, a bit offended that Hayes thought he couldn’t handle drinking. He was only 30, damn it.

“No, I mean like…” Wyatt sat up straight and looked at Ilya in the eyes. “You seem different. Sad, I guess? Like you’re trying to distract yourself from something. Is everything okay with your family?” Ilya’s face immediately hardened. He could hear Bood and Cassie walking around upstairs, likely tidying up and bringing in all the food from the buffet line outside.

“I do not have a family.”

“Okay, well, that’s probably part of it. Is that what’s bothering you? Lisa tells me I’m a good listener. I think we’ve known each other long enough to talk about something other than hockey. I know your dad passed away a few years ago, is that -”

“I do not want to talk about feelings.” Ilya twisted himself so that Wyatt was no longer in his line of vision. He closed his eyes and put his head in his hands. “You wouldn’t understand anyways.”

“There’s a lot more to me than I let on, Rozy.” He tried to keep his tone light and casual. “But. I’ll drop it if you really want me to. I don’t want you to feel forced -”

“I’m bisexual.” Ilya blurted out before his brain could catch up. Both of them sat there in silence for a moment, Ilya just about as surprised with the confession as Hayes seemed to be. Wyatt quickly recovered though, and he furrowed his brow and tilted his head.

“Oh?” He said, letting the weight of Ilya’s revelation sink in. “Okay. Is there someone that you’re seeing? I was ready to be on a team with Ilya Rosanov the ladies’ man, but that’s not a side of you I know at all. Oh my god, are you going through a break-up?” Ilya just looked at him with red rimmed eyes. He was suddenly very close to tears, but this was embarrassing enough for him without adding that level of awkwardness to it.

“Not a break-up.” was all he managed to squeak out.

“Okay, well, I’ll take that as a yes you’re seeing someone, then. I assume it’s a man? If you had to preface the way you did.” Ilya looked back down at his lap and nodded. This was the first time he’d purposely come out to anyone. Even with Shane’s parents, they’d found out after seeing the two of them together and Shane did most of the talking. Why was this so damn awkward? He wasn’t ashamed of himself or of his relationship. The whole coming out process just felt plain humiliating. He felt so exposed right now, even though he knew it was just the two of them in the basement, and he absolutely trusted Hayes.

“Have you told anyone about him?” Wyatt asked gently. Ilya just shook his head, not trusting his voice not to break if he spoke again. “Does he live in Ottawa? Is that why you signed with the Centaurs?” He shook his head again and cleared his throat.

“His parents know. About us. And a few of his friends. But you are the first person in my life I’ve told. Is closer than Boston, but the distance and the secret is so hard.”

“Damn. I had no idea. Not saying that I’m not flattered, I am, but why are you telling me this?”

“You are good man, Hayes.” Ilya started “I know you are an ally. With your sister and everything. I thought if anyone would be okay with this, it’s you. Unless it is not okay with you?”

“No! Nothing like that, I’m glad you told me. Does it feel better? Having told someone?” Ilya took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“It does, thank you. You really are good listener.” Hayes smiled at him then. He scooted close to Ilya and nudged his shoulder.

“So, will I get to meet this mystery man of yours?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not.”

“That’s okay. You’ll let me know if and when you’re ready. The world is changing, Ilya, and you’re not in Russia anymore. Did you want to go back home once you retire?”

“God no! I never want to step foot in the wretched country again. I would like to be Canadian citizen if I can. And it’s captain Rosanov to you.” That made them both laugh.

“Well that makes things easier then, captain Rozanov.” Both men laughed. “You must have a keeper if he’s able to take you off the market.” Ilya smiled, his mind racing through scenes of himself and Shane over the years.

“Yes. I love him very much.”

“That much is obvious.”

*****
Ilya got about 15 minutes into his drive home before he had to pull over into a parking lot. He found himself parked behind a closed orthodontist’s office, not wanting anyone to see him in this state. The adrenaline that was coursing through his veins was starting to wane and the weight of what he’d just confessed crashed onto him. The tears that had been threatening to break free at Bood’s house cascaded down his cheeks. His thoughts raced in his mind. I need to tell Shane. What is he going to say? He told his whole team he’s gay, why would he be upset about me telling someone? But if people know that he and I do the charity, and they know he’s gay… Oh god, he’s gonna be furious. Wait. Why does he get to be mad? Am I not allowed to have support? No, I deserve to be able to come out on my own terms too.

He waited long enough for his tears to subside and called Shane. He had talked himself through this enough times that he felt confident that Shane would support his decision. Hopefully he’d even be happy that Ilya had sought out someone to confide in. It was late by now, nearly 11, but he didn’t care. He knew Shane would only be halfway through his bedtime routine and he needed to talk this out.

Shane picked up on the third ring. “Ilya?” Is everything okay?” Ilya started to speak but his voice was shaky and hoarse.

“Hi, Shane. We need to talk.” Oh god, he was a cliche. It clearly caught Shane off guard because he didn’t respond for a long time. “Shane? Are you there?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m here. Are you upset with me? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, sweetheart. I just needed to… Let me start over.” He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “I told Hayes that I’m bisexual.”

“Oh.” Shane was quiet again, but this time Ilya knew he was just thinking. “What’d you tell him?”

“Not about us. Well, not really. I told him I am bisexual and that I am in long distance relationship with man that I love. He did not ask for more details.” He heard Shane scoff on the other end of the line.

“Well, thanks for giving me a heads up!” He said sarcastically.

“Like you gave to me when you told JJ about us? I did not even share as much.”

“He overheard me, what the fuck else was I supposed to do?” He sounded angry now. Ilya rubbed his eyes. This was not how he wanted this to go. Not at all.

“I don’t know. I don’t know Shane, but I am being crushed under the weight of this! You have so many people who help hold while I only have me. I wasn’t planning to tell him, it just. It just got too much to hide. Why do I have to hide who I am when you do not have to?”

“You know why! What if he tells someone? What if someone puts together the pieces? And don’t even give me that, you know that I’m hiding as much as you!”

“You do know it is possible for two men who like other men to be in the same room without fucking, right? People in your life know that you are gay. You could wear rainbow pins and have stickers on your laptop like Harris if you wanted to. What am I supposed to do? You won’t even let me tell people that I may have liked a man at some point in my entire fucking life. I’m not asking for forgiveness, I just was letting you know.” Ilya’s voice was hard. He could feel himself shutting down and he wanted to be home before that happened. “Maybe I’m tired of hiding altogether, have you ever thought of that?” He heard Shane start to say something, but really wasn’t interested in hearing him out right now, not anymore. “I’m on my way home from Bood’s. I need to focus on driving. Goodbye, Shane.” He pushed the end call button before his boyfriend could respond. The screen immediately lit up. ~Incoming Call from Jane~ Ilya declined it. The screen lit up again and Ilya turned his phone completely off. He threw it in the backseat and buckled his seatbelt again. He needed to get home. Now.

Since it was late and Ottawa was boring, the roads were basically empty. Ilya didn’t have the speed like he used to with his sports cars, but that didn’t stop him from pushing 150 km/h the rest of the way home. He was lucky there weren’t any cops around as he absolutely would have been given a hefty speeding ticket if there were. He pulled into his driveway at 11:10 and ran inside, the cold September night already slightly stinging his cheeks. He undressed as he walked, leaving his clothes on the floor as he made his way to the bathroom. He needed a hot shower.

When he was a teenager, he found himself often seeking a shower when things felt too overwhelming. No one expected anything of him while he was in there, and the hot water washed away his tears and muffled his cries. It was one of the healthiest coping mechanisms he had, truthfully.

Ilya turned on the water and let it heat as he used the washroom. He couldn’t even bear to look at himself in the mirror before jumping in the shower. He plopped down onto the floor and pulled his knees to his chest. It was completely quiet aside from the sound of the running water, and Ilya thought about getting out and finding his phone to listen to some music. He remembered, rather unfortunately, that it was still in the backseat of his car. No matter. I need to think anyways. Why was he so upset that I told Hayes? He thought, So what if the whole world finds out? Wouldn’t it be better that way? Maybe Shane would still play with Montreal and I with Ottawa, but we could go to the movies or to the lake or anywhere together on our days off. Why is this so hard?

His mind raced until he found himself nodding off. That was typically his cue to get out of the shower at a time like this. Reluctantly, he stood up and turned the water off. He realized as he was drying off that he hadn’t even washed his body or hair. Whatever, this wasn’t a shower for cleanliness, he told himself. It was the ambiance he needed, not the bubbles.

Ilya grabbed his robe (a gift from Yuna) and slid on his slippers (also Yuna) to run to the car. He retrieved the phone from the car and hurried back to the warmth inside. He turned it on and saw 12:47 on the clock. Whoops, he must have been in the shower longer than he thought. He saw 7 missed calls and 18 texts from “Jane.” There was also one text from Hayes. He had more energy for that one, so he tapped on the notification.

Wyatt Hayes (Hazy): Hey Roz, I know that shit tonight took a lot of guts. Probably should have told you at the time, but your secret is safe with me. Lol, I knew my sister was a lesbian for years before she told our parents or anyone else. Your man is a lucky guy. Never tell him I said so, in case he’s an asshole, of course.
Ilya: Thank you 🙂
Ilya: He is a bit of an asshole honestly, but he grows on you.

His heart ached with longing. He loved Shane absolutely and wholly, that much he couldn’t hide if he wanted to. Ilya knew that losing his boyfriend would absolutely be gutting, and he didn’t know if he could go on living if that happened, honestly. In truth, he would hide every part of himself for Shane for as long as he asked him to. But would that eventually get to be too much? He looked at the blue 18 bubble on his messages and figured it was probably better to get this over with. He opened his conversation with “Jane” to see what he had said.

Jane: Don’t hang up on me!
Jane: Can you just pick up the phone please? I wasn’t done talking to you.
Jane: Seriously, pick up your fucking phone.
Jane: What was even the point in calling me if you don’t want to hear what I have to say?
Jane: It’s going straight to voicemail now.
Jane: Okay so I’m guessing you turned off your phone. Or it died. Call me when you get home.
Jane: Ilya? You should have gotten home from Bood’s by now.
Jane: Are you alive?
Jane: You were right. I shouldn’t have reacted that way.
Jane: It’s still going to voicemail. Are you home?
Jane: I’m sorry. I love you.
Jane: Please talk to me. I know I fucked up.
Jane: Okay, well if you’re going to give me the silent treatment, at least you’ll see what I have to say eventually.
Jane: I didn’t think about how you would feel and that was wrong of me. I just assumed after so many years, you wouldn’t feel the need to come out as anything. At least until we were ready. But I know that you might feel ready at a different time than I do, and we can talk about it if that’s really the case. People never questioned your sexuality because you were always with so many women. I felt the need to come out as gay because it’s part of my identity, and I now understand how that would make you feel. Being bisexual is a part of who you are too, and I’m sorry I tried to make you keep that quiet.
Jane: If you trust Hayes then I do too. He’s always seemed like a stand-up guy, especially when you talk about him.
Jane: I’m sorry I freaked out on you. It’s not fair that I get to have people in my life that know and support me while you don’t.
Jane: You don’t have to say anything tonight, just let me know you’re okay.
Jane: Ilya?
Lily: I’m home, I’m alive. We will be okay, I just need sleep for tonight. I’ll call in the morning.
Lily: I love you ❤️‍🩹
-Read 12:52am

Chapter 10

Chapter Notes

This was a hard one to write. TW for sibling abuse and coming out.

Shane stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours that night. He had started off angry when Ilya had called him initially, so angry it threatened to pull tears from his eyes. How could he have made such an important decision before even talking to Shane? Also, he’d never even met Wyatt Hayes, just seen him in passing over the years. Was Ilya starting to want to tell more people? Would they put two and two together? What would happen to him when this got out? Even if they waited until they retired, the news would still send shockwaves through the hockey world.

After the fourth unanswered call, Shane found himself really thinking about what Ilya had said, particularly about JJ. He thought of Ilya’s reaction when he’d told him. He’d seemed weird, but fine? Probably? He realized he never really even gave him a chance to respond properly, which in hindsight seemed incredibly callous. He also recalled what JJ had said during their conversation right after he found out. “What happens when you, or Rosanov, reach a breaking point? You can’t keep this hidden forever.” He was right. Shane didn’t even think about the weight that Ilya had to have been carrying fully alone. He remembered figuring out that he was gay, and he absolutely freaked out on Ilya. It had been important to him to say the big scary G word out loud to someone, so couldn’t he empathize with Ilya now that he wanted to tell someone he was bisexual?

The longer his texts and calls went unanswered, the more he began to worry. Ilya typically always texted him when he arrived home, especially if he’d been drinking, but he should have been home more than an hour ago. Was he upset enough to cause an accident? Was he hurt? How would Shane even find out if he was? Who was Ilya’s emergency contact nowadays? Was it still his brother? Would he even care if he got a call? Shane tried to calm the rush of questions running through his head. Ilya was a full grown adult, and he sometimes had quiet days. He was probably just asleep and forgot to text, he tried to assure himself.

He thought about Ilya’s coach’s son from Russia and how scary it must have been for Ilya to realize he was attracted to men. Shane grew up in hockey culture so was no stranger to all kinds of words being thrown around in the locker rooms and on the ice, but he knew that at worst being gay would cost him his career. For Ilya, being bisexual could have cost him so much more, especially with the family he grew up in. He’d never even asked what that was like, he suddenly realized. Who was Shane to stand in the way of his personal expression now that he was free to be who he wanted to be?

He thought about the Ilya he’d fallen for, and his heart began to ache. He thought of the boy smoking behind a rink in Saskatchewan. Was he smoking because he was nervous for the juniors game they were about to play? Did he think about the freedoms he’d be afforded if he did well enough that he was able to leave Russia? Shane had never really gotten to know that version of Ilya, and it seemed like such a shame. The idea of him as a little boy and as a teenager was so precious to Shane now. He wanted to wrap him up in a hug and tell him that everything would be all right.

He hated himself for what he’d said. Ilya just needed time. He tried to tell himself. He would come around once he’s had a chance to sleep. Sleep, as it turned out, turned out to be something that Shane was having a hard time doing himself. He tossed and turned, replaying the conversation in his head so many times, saying different things each time. Things he should have said the first time.

His phone buzzed, and he quickly grabbed it from the charger on the nightstand. There were two texts from Ilya, the first one assuring him he was fine and home and that they would talk tomorrow. The second held all the hope in the world for Shane. Their first “I love you” felt so important, so monumental to their lives. It was the holy shit, this is real moment that they needed at the time. It felt common saying it now, but Shane knew that it absolutely was not. Those three little words were promises to each other.
I love you when times get tough.
I love you when I miss you.
I love you when it seems like the whole world is against us.
I love you with all my heart.
I love you always.

He wanted to let Ilya know he was respecting his boundaries. He made it clear didn’t want to talk right now, so Shane sent back a single red heart emoji. He saw that Ilya had read the message but no dots appeared like he was typing, as he expected. Sleep was now possible for both of them, and Shane quickly dropped off into a dream.

***

Shane woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. He looked at the time before answering, finding that he’d slept in a lot longer than he’d wanted to. It was just past 9, which for Shane usually meant that by now he’d had breakfast and finished his morning yoga routine. On weekdays and game days he typically set his alarm for 6:00. ~Incoming Call from Lily~ appeared on the screen. Shane scrubbed the sleep from his eyes and answered.

“Ilya?” He sounded a lot groggier than he anticipated.

“Hi Shane. Is now good time? Did I wake you up? I thought you would have been awake long time ago.”

“Yeah, but that’s okay. I’m happy to hear from you. I’m surprised you’re up this early?”

“Andrew, the kid from across the street, needed my help. He did not know how to use air pump and his tire for bicycle was flat. Knocked on my door about half hour ago.”

“Oh? I didn’t realize you knew your neighbor kids by name? Also, where are his parents?”

“Mmm. Just these two. Him and his little sister Willa are big hockey fans. Well, maybe just popcorn fans.” He laughed, and Shane didn’t think he’d ever heard a sweeter sound in his life. “They make sign for me when I play sometimes. Good luck and all that. Is nice. Parents, um, I don’t know. Probably went to the store or something. They are old enough to be left alone though. I’m not sure exactly, but I’d say probably he’s about 9 Willa is I think 5? I was often home alone when I wasn’t even Andrew’s age.” Shane felt stupid. He’d been to Ilya’s house how many times and never even noticed the kids across the street. And they were close enough to Ilya to seek him out for help with something as simple as blowing up a bike tire? Also, to Shane, 9 years old was not old enough to be at home alone, let alone in the care of a younger sibling. How much time had Ilya spent alone as a kid?

“What was it like when you first realized you were bi?” Shane asked suddenly.

“Bad. Why are you asking? I wanted to talk about last night.”

“I think it’s maybe important. I was thinking for a long time last night and I don’t think I’ve ever heard the story. I just -” Shane sighed and paused for a moment. “Here I am thinking I know everything about you and what’s best for us, but I never stopped to consider how you might feel about it and why you felt the need to come out. Especially since I don’t know anything about how you feel about even being bisexual. I know you were with your coach’s son as a teenager, but I don’t know anything more. You never talk about it.”

“Shane, I would rather leave that behind me.”

“I know, but you were right. I reacted badly and I’m holding you to a standard I’m not setting for myself. Usually I set the bar so high for myself I don’t have to worry about not living up to others’ expectations but…” He trailed off, hoping Ilya would fill the silence. Ilya was quiet for a long moment before he spoke.

“I was sixteen. It had only been just over three years since mama passed, and I was so angry all the time. All I had was hockey to distract me from… everything else.” He sighed and was quiet again for another moment. “Until I found Sasha. Or, he found me really. He hung around the arena during practice reading or doing his homework or whatever other boring thing he had to do.”

“So you have a type is what you’re saying?” Shane interjected, clearly missing the fact that Ilya was not in the mood to be interrupted or in the mood for jokes.

“Mm yes. He is not so boring anymore I hear, but we stopped speaking many years ago. But he used to flirt with me as I was coming out of practice, and I liked the attention. I told you many years ago he made me curious. There was truth to that, but in honest he was really the first person who made me feel wanted. So many have used me for sex only, and I have used many in that way too, but Sasha made me feel again, something other than anger and sadness. We were so young and so stupid I didn’t really care that he was a boy too until my brother found us. I spent so much time at home by myself after mama. Andrei was away at university most days. He studied in Moscow, but my father wanted him to stay in his own apartment. Something about wanting him to be his own man. Really I just think he liked not having to pay for food and clothes anymore for Andrei as soon as he could. Sasha many times came over to my house after practice. My father was never home until late so it was safe, but I guess that day Andrei needed something he’d left and he walked in on us. I tried to pretend like it was the first time we’d been together, that I was just confused, anything to get him not to tell papa. He gave me two black eyes and I think that was the first time my nose got broken, but he never did tell anyone for his sake as much as mine. The same year mama died, Andrei’s classmate was found to be gay. His whole family was forced to leave Moscow out of shame and I do not know what happened to him. I pretended like I got into fight at hockey when papa asked.”

“Oh my god. Ilya, I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” Shane felt sick to his stomach, but Ilya continued undeterred.

“Is okay, was not the last time I got a black eye or broken nose.”

“No it’s not okay! God, Ilya, I probably pulled all those feelings right back up when I got mad at you last night for coming out. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I hadn’t told anyone before Hayes. Everyone else who knows found out on accident. I thought maybe you would be happy for me.” He said so quietly and so sadly that Shane hated himself.

“I know how shitty it is to have that choice taken from you.” They were both quiet for a long while. “What happened after Andrei found out? With Sasha? Did you two keep seeing each other?”

“We met up again a few more times, never at our houses again. I saw him a few times when I went to Moscow for summers too, but was never the same. Also, I met this cute Canadian boy with shining eyes and perfect freckles to take my mind off him.”

“I really am glad you found someone you trust. I shouldn’t have been an asshole about it.”

“Is okay. Are you actually glad or are you just saying so?” Ilya asked cautiously.

“I’m actually glad, now that I’ve had some time to think and slept on it. I love you.”

“Okay. I love you too. Sorry, I have to go, Andrew is back at the door. Talk to you later? Maybe tonight?” Shane reddened even just thinking about it. He owed Ilya big time, and was absolutely going to put on a show for him.

“I’d love that. See you later, Moya Lyubov."

Chapter 11

Chapter Notes

Some lighthearted fun after the last chapter :)

Ilya opened the door to a hysterical Andrew. He had been pounding his little fist on the door so hard it was shaking as Ilya had walked through the house. 

 

“Where is fire?” He asked urgently. 

 

“It’s Willa, she fell on her bike and her knee is all scraped up. I don’t know what to do, I don’t have a bandaid big enough and she’s crying.” Ilya immediately began putting his shoes on as soon as he heard “it’s Willa.” 

 

“Show me where she is.” Andrew turned around and took off at a sprint. Given that he was only about the height of Ilya’s bellybutton, Ilya was able to easily keep up, even as Andrew was running full speed. He heard Willa before he saw her. The kids usually rode their bikes up and down the cul-de-sac making big loops. The neighbor at the end of the street often let them use her driveway to turn around so they wouldn’t have to do so in the street. Willa was on the ground in the street about 5 houses down from Ilya’s, blood covering her left knee, and she was wailing like she’d been impailed. 

 

“Oh dear, this isn’t the best spot for you dyevchónka.” Ilya said by way of greeting. He turned and looked at Andrew. “Will you grab her bike? I’m going to take her to my house to get cleaned up.” He scooped up the still crying Willa and carried her back down the street. “Hey, Andrew, where are your parents today?” 

 

“They went to the school. There’s some parent meeting today for signing your kids up to play fall sports. I think I’m going to play hockey, like you!” He beamed. “They said they’d be back in a couple of hours.” Ilya just nodded in response. 

 

He worried about taking them inside his house, especially as a single man, but figured if they were together it would probably be fine with their parents. He walked into the house and wished he had bothered to pick up his clothes from the night before. Ilya tried to subtly kick them into a pile as he placed Willa on the couch. She had mostly stopped crying and was staring up at him teary-eyed. 

 

“We can’t have that now, can we?” He knelt down to her level and handed her a tissue from off the coffee table. She clumsily wiped at her face, mostly just spreading the snot and tears around. Ilya knew from the times he had spent around his niece when she was little as well as more recently the Pike kids that they really don’t have the coordination that you’d think they would. Ilya grabbed another tissue and began to wipe the tears off her face. “Alright, I will be right back. Will you be okay with Andrew for a moment?” Willa nodded shyly as she looked at her brother. 

 

Ilya grabbed his clothes as he went up the stairs to the bathroom, dropping them in the hamper on the way. He had a service come twice a month to tidy up, and he was grateful they had just come a few days prior. His house was still mostly clean enough for surprise guests, even if they were children. He grabbed some antiseptic spray as well as vaseline and a large gauze pad. It was probably a bit too big for Willa, so he also grabbed scissors and a roll of medical tape. It was rare that Ilya made it through even a practice without a cut or a bruise, so he was well stocked for these kinds of emergencies.

 

He walked quickly back down the stairs, supplies spilling out of his arms. 

 

“Okay, I am back. Thank you for being so brave.” He said to Willa, who was now sitting next to her brother on the opposite side of the couch, holding his hand. “Can you roll up your pants for me? I just need to see your knee.” The pink fabric was stained bright red, but it was stretchy enough that it pulled up easily, bunching just over the knee. The skin was scraped and bloody, but it didn’t look like there were any rocks or dirt in it. “Oh my!” He said with mock seriousness. “I think we will have to cut the whole leg off.” Willa looked at her brother, terrified. “I am joking, sorry.” Ilya quickly added when he saw that she believed him. “You will be just fine dyevchónka, I am expert at fixing scraped knees, you know.” 

 

Willa sniffed and asked “What does that mean? Div-chonka?” Ilya smiled kindly. 

 

“Is Russian for little girl. Do you not want me to call you that?” 

 

“No, it’s okay.” She said, a smile threatening to make an appearance. 

 

“Okay, well then, dyevchónka, I need to make sure it’s clean before I put bandage on. This special spray here will make sure you don’t get sick. But it might hurt a little bit, I am sorry. Do you want Andrew to spray instead of me?” 

 

“You can do it, I’ll be brave.” 

 

“Ah, that I know you will. Okay, I will count to three. One. Two” And he sprayed the antiseptic on her knee. She shut her eyes tight but didn’t scream or cry. 

 

“You said three!” She protested. 

 

“But now it is done!” Ilya gestured at her knee. “And you did not have to wait for three! Here, do you want to help me with this part? I have this special goo that will help it heal faster.” He held out the tub of vaseline so she could see it.

 

“My mommy uses that sometimes.” 

 

“Ah, see I told you, I am expert. But of course, moms are always most expert. Here, take some on your finger like this” he got a dollop on his finger and pulled up his own pant leg to expose his knee. “And then you just put it where it hurts!” He had a big gash from where he had accidentally taken a skate to the knee the other day in practice. Willa mimicked him and dipped her finger into the tub. “Okay, now, you just should put little spots like this.” He guided her hand as he dotted the open skin. “See? That’s not so bad, is it?” 

 

“No. It doesn’t hurt so much now.” 

 

“That’s what I like to hear! Now, next step is to put this big bandaid on. But it might be too big for you. I have to get them in tall man size for me.” Willa laughed, and Ilya was relieved that she was feeling better enough to do so. He cut the gauze into fourths and showed her the now small piece. “This is special band-aid without stickys, so I will use tape, ok? Your mom should be able to find better bandaid once she’s home.” He gently placed the gauze pad on her knee and secured it with medical tape on all sides. “All set!” Ilya turned to Andrew “Okay, she’s good now. Will you take her home and get some new clothes? Your mom will know what to do to get the blood out of these pants, but you have to let her know right away, okay?” 

 

“Okay, thank you, uh, is it okay if I call you Ilya? My dad says to call grown-ups by their last names, but I can’t remember yours. 

 

“My last name is Rosanov, but yes, Ilya is good. You did a good thing, coming to get me. Thank you for taking such good care of your little sister.” Both kids stood up and started to walk towards the still-open door. “I think you have had enough outside fun, yes? Go watch TV or play inside game.” 

 

“Thanks, Ilya!” Andrew said, and made a face like he was breaking a rule. He held his sister’s hand as they walked across the street. Ilya watched them until the door shut behind them. He noticed Willa’s little hand pull back the curtain and wave at him from inside. He gave her his best smile and waved back before shutting his own door. He had their mom, Kate’s, number for emergencies so he texted her to let her know the situation. 

 

Ilya: Hey, kids came by a few times this morning. Andrew needed help to fill his bike tire and then there was a small crash. Willa had a scraped knee, and Andrew came and got me again. Everyone is good and happy now, but just to let you know. 

Kate: Oh goodness, always something with those two! Thank you for helping out! Mike and I will be home in about half an hour. 

Ilya: 👍🏼

Ilya: Pick up big band-aids from store for Willa, please. 😇

Chapter 12

Ilya was exhausted, and more than a little hungover. On his days off he hated to get up before 10, so all the excitement so early in the morning had taken it completely out of him. He wondered if it was too early for a nap. Then he remembered he had nowhere to be and no one to see, and he decided that a 9:30am nap sounded pretty damn good. 

 

He laid down and thought about Sasha. Why did Shane feel the need to drag that back up again? He would be lying if he hadn’t thought about that time in his life when he made the split second decision to confide in Hayes. Though it was a bit embarrassing being caught kissing by Shane’s dad, it had been so much worse when Andrei had walked in on him and Sasha. They weren’t fucking, thank God, not at that point anyways, but they had been laying in Ilya’s bed, their naked legs tangled together. Memories are a funny thing; time ends up dulling the sharpness of past hurt, but that same feeling is always there, waiting to be dragged up again. Ilya didn’t think he would ever forget the sound of Andrei’s disgusted shouts or the horrified look on his face when he entered the room. He didn’t even know why Andrei felt the need to go in his room, probably just to be a dick honestly. 

 

Of course it had occurred to Ilya at the time that their relationship was dangerous, but that’s why it was a secret. He knew that Sasha was never going to tell anyone, and he watched as his peers’ relationships, if you could even call them that when you’re that age, never lasted long anyways. None of his past relationships had, so why should this one be any different? He anticipated that they would fool around for a few weeks and that would be the end of it. He’d never really given much thought to what it would mean for him and his identity if he found other boys attractive. 

 

Ilya wasn’t a virgin the first time he slept with Sasha, but he’d never been intimate until then, not really. He felt so close to the other boy, and he desperately needed someone to lean on. He wasn’t the most social kid in his class by any means, and even on his hockey team the other boys tended to stay away from him. He struggled with his anger well into his twenties, but it probably peaked around the time he was 16 or 17. When he was with him, everything was okay, even if it was just for an hour or two. He wouldn’t go far as to say he loved him, but there was something special about their relationship. He was glad that Sasha had gotten dressed and fled the house while Andrei was still yelling. He didn’t think he could have beared for Sasha to see him getting beaten. When he showed up to hockey practice the next day, he wasn’t there and Ilya was glad for it. To his hockey teammates and coach, he said he’d gotten in a fight at school. Ilya was often getting in fights at that age, so no one paid much mind to him being bruised and battered. 

 

Ilya ended up not seeing Sasha again until six months later. He had tried to get onto the Russian team juniors as a 16-year old and wasn’t chosen. He knew that being chosen at 16 was incredibly rare, but it still stung just as much. His father sure never let him hear the end of it. Ilya couldn’t help playing back the words like a haunted record. “Why did you even bother? Do you know how much shame you have brought to the family? You couldn't even get on the juniors team, how can you possibly expect to make it to the KHL?” 

 

Sasha had been waiting for him near an internet cafe where they often met up two days after he got the news that he’d been rejected from the juniors’ team. Ilya didn’t even know why he’d wanted to go there, probably just to be anywhere but home. They’d hooked up in the back of Sasha’s parents’ car that night, and he’d held Ilya after while he cried. It was the first time in a long time that he’d allowed himself to do so. He hated that he missed his opportunity to see the world, he hated that he couldn’t see the one person who made everything even a little bit better, he hated that he still missed his mom so much after what she’d done to them. How she’d abandoned him. He tried not to hate her, but in those days it was a losing battle. He’d since come to terms with her suicide and made friends with his grief, but as a teen sometimes he hated her so much he could barely stand it. 

 

It wasn’t until he had been in the States for a while that he really thought about his sexuality. It probably started to really occupy his thoughts after the third time he’d slept with Shane. He’d had hookups countless times, but with the exception of Shane and Sasha, at the time he exclusively sought after women. Once was a fluke, he could tell himself. Twice was just curiosity, but three times? He was seeking something out in Shane. It was tortuous, having an identity-driving thing about yourself be completely a secret and knowing that there was no one you could talk to about it, or anything that could be done to change it. 

 

Eventually, he stopped paying it much mind. Ilya did end up hooking up with a couple of other men, but in general he wasn’t seeking it out. Unless your name was Shane Hollander of course, who for some damn reason seemed to be magnetic. It didn’t seem to matter how long it had been since they’d seen each other or talked in those early days, they always were drawn together. They didn’t really do much else apart from fucking, so it always was like they picked up exactly where they left off. Ilya was Russian, and Shane was not interested in anything long term, so what did it even matter if he was bisexual? 

 

Then he and Shane got real. They were the kind of real that there’s no going back from without it ripping a piece of your heart with it, and Ilya started to think a lot more about his own identity, especially after moving to Ottawa. He wasn’t Ilya the captain of the Boston Bears, or Ilya the guy who goes to clubs and sleeps with a new woman every weekend, or Ilya with the fancy sports cars, he was just…. Ilya. But even he didn’t really know who that was at the end of the day. Why was it so hard to figure it out? 

 

Ilya sighed and rolled over in bed. He knew he wasn’t going to get any sleep with the flood of thoughts in his head, even if his body was physically exhausted. He tried to focus his thoughts on Shane. He had been nervous to call him this morning, not sure what he was going to say. He had felt better about it after reading the texts last night, but Ilya had still wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. It was hard to stay mad at Shane, really. Ilya knew that he hadn’t been upset just for the sake of it. He should have told Shane earlier that he was having trouble sometimes, and they should have a game plan going forward. 

 

For Ilya, admitting he needed help wasn’t just difficult to do, it was a near-impossible sign of weakness. He was brought up in a culture and in a family that fostered his independence to a fault. While it allowed him to move continents without a backwards glance as a young man, it now was hamstringing him as he was beginning to settle into adult life. His depression was easy to ignore before, with plenty of hockey, alcohol, and women to keep him distracted and busy. He saw firsthand the consequences of not reaching out for help, but it was still so hard for him to rely on anyone. 

 

He knew they needed to have a face to face discussion. The next time they planned to see each other was in about a week. Both he and Shane had an open three days since neither of their teams were included in the first pre-season round of games. He wondered if the other players ever noticed he disappeared for days at a time, but if they did, no one ever said anything to him. He eventually gave up on trying to go back to sleep and texted Shane again. 

 

Lily: Sorry I had to run, there was a small emergency. 🤕🚨
Lily: Let’s talk more about this when I see you, yes? 😊❤️

Jane: That’s okay, is everyone okay? 

Jane: Yeah, it’d be good to talk directly. It would give us the next few days to think as well. 

Lily: Yes, I had to be doctor. Was touch and go there for a minute, but I believe Miss Willa will survive the scraped knee. ⛑️

Lily: Okay. I always think about you. 🌞

Jane: She’s lucky to have you to help her. Did you have to cut off the leg? 

Lily: SEE! This is funny joke. I said the same, and she just got scared. 🙄

Jane: Ilya!! You can’t really tell little girls you’re going to cut their legs off! You’re a big scary Russian man. She probably thought you were serious. 

Lily: I had big scary russian men tell me they were going to do all kinds of things every day. Cut off my leg after scrape, steal my nose, hide my clothes. Is good for the soul. 😎👍🏼

Jane: You’re such an asshole. 

Lily: 😇

Jane: I really am sorry. I love you

Lily: I love you too, sweetheart. Is okay. I think we just need game plan, yes? 

Jane: I think that’s a good idea. I’m so excited to see you ❤️

 

Ilya rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. They’d talk about it and smooth things over in a few days. Even now, there didn’t really seem to be any lingering awkwardness. Maybe they were getting the hang of this whole relationship thing after all. The thought took over and won, letting Ilya drift peacefully into sleep. 

Chapter 13

Chapter Notes

So excited to introduce Troy into the mix! He's so precious to me, and I hope I did his character justice, even just as a background actor.

“It’s Troy Barrett.” Weibe said, looking across his desk at Ilya. There had been rumors that Ottawa was getting a new player, and the team had been excitedly wondering who it would be. This was not the answer Ilya was hoping for. 

 

“Right. Okay.” Ilya said, unable to hide the disappointment. 

 

“He’s a good player, Roz, and you know we could use him. And everything that was going on with his old team and Kent? Yikes. I don’t blame him for wanting to get out of there, even if ultimately it was Toronto management’s final decision. I expect you to make him feel welcome.” 

 

“Yes.” he said flatly. “Well, was good while it lasted.” He stood up and started towards the door. 

 

“Hey, come on now, what’s that mean?” Weibe said gently. 

 

“Barrett. He will fuck it all up. But as they say, good things do not last.” 

 

“Sit down, Rozanov.” He started kindly. “I’m not saying I can really do much about someone being an asshole, but I agree with you that this team is special. I’m not going to let someone destroy the centaurs family, and I certainly won’t tolerate any discrimination or bullying. I know you won’t either.” Ilya plopped back down on the chair, his legs splayed out and his arms crossed like a petulant teenager. “That’s why I brought you in here. You’re the captain, so naturally you’d get to know first anyways so you can tell the team, but I want to come up with a game plan. I can only influence what I can see, which I know isn’t much. Don’t forget I used to play too. I know too well how players speak to each other behind their coach’s backs, how certain members of a team would be targeted because they were different. I am asking you to help with this. You are the captain, you get to set the standards for the rest of the team. I know you don’t have a problem calling out bad behavior, and I want you to. I had the same conversation with Bood when you wanted to sign with us, you know. He might turn out to be different than you think. I was shocked when I saw that video, truthfully.” 

 

“Hm.” Ilya said, taking a moment to think before speaking. “This is true. It is good sign that he had the balls to stand up to Kent. He always hid behind him as long as I’ve known him.” 

 

“Maybe the guy’s just going through something. Let’s not make judgments about someone before we truly get to know them, right?” 

 

“Yes, coach. I will keep an eye on him.” was all Ilya could muster in reply for now. He wasn’t convinced there was any way Troy Barret could actually be a decent guy, but Weibe was right. He could think however he wanted to, but Ilya would be watching him like a hawk. With any luck, he’d figure out he doesn’t belong with Ottawa after this season and will try to go somewhere else. “Am I ok to go?” 

 

“You’re free to go. I have a good feeling about this, just you wait.” Ilya gave him a half-hearted smile and walked out of the coach’s office, wondering how on earth this could ever be a good thing. He sauntered down the hallway towards the locker room. Since it was still about 30 minutes before practice officially started, he was the only one there. He stripped down to his underwear and pulled out his phone. Sitting on the bench, he texted the only person he always wanted to talk to. 

 

Lily: New guy is Troy Barrett 🙃👎🏼

Jane: Damn! I figured Toronto management would be upset he called out Kent like that but I didn’t think they’d trade him to Ottawa. 

Lily: I do not want him ☹️

Jane: Sorry babe, you don’t get to pick. Sucks to be a hockey player sometimes, but that’s why they pay you the big bucks. Maybe you’ll score more points now though! Haas and Hayes have made a big difference already. You don’t have to love everyone on your team to work well with them. 

Lily: Thanks for that 🙄 

Jane: Sorry. But he might not be so bad? 

Lily: This is what coach tried to say. I think he will be so bad. 😪

Jane: You’ll straighten him out. I’d like to see him try to use some of the same tactics he used in Toronto in front of you! 

Lily: He will not try if he likes to keep his teeth in his mouth. 😠

Lily: Is what it is I guess. Call tonight? 😘

Jane: I’d love that. 

 

He sat in silence, not moving for a moment before deciding he should probably get dressed before the rest of the team started trickling in. He watched his teammates come into the locker room in small groups or pairs, talking loudly. He loved this team and he would fight to protect what they had going on here. Once most everyone had arrived, he decided now was as good a time as any to break the news. 

 

“Okay, everyone listen up! I have announcement.” The chatter died down instantly. Everyone looked at him expectantly, waiting to hear what Ilya had to say. “As you know, there have been rumors that Ottawa is getting a new player. Is true. We are getting Troy Barrett.” A chorus of boos and disappointed noises erupted from the men in front of him. “Alright, alright. I know how he is, and the reputation he has. Coach wants us to be nice. Hopefully will be temporary.” 

 

Ilya got a smattering of “Yeah, right” and “Whatever’s from the men in the room, and he figured that’s about all he was going to get when Wyatt stood up. 

 

“I know Barret from when I was in Toronto. The guy kinda sucks, I’m not gonna lie. But, I was impressed that he stood up to Kent. The whole time I played with him, he was a yes man to whatever Kent told him to do. I know Toronto management sent him here as a punishment, but let’s not make him suffer any more than he already has for doing the right thing.” While no one looked entirely convinced, Hayes’ point did look like it got through to some of the guys. 

 

“Do you think Kent assaulted all those women?” Luca asked in Wyatt’s general direction while he was getting on his gear. 

 

“I wouldn’t be even a little surprised. If Barret called him out like that in front of everyone, I believe he probably knows something that we don’t. And what’s more, I absolutely believe the women who were brave enough to come forward. I hope one day they’ll see justice.” Hayes answered him sincerely. 

 

“Exactly right, Hazy.” Weibe suddenly appeared in the locker room. “We believe women, and we believe in keeping each other accountable on this team. That doesn’t exclude Barrett, got it everyone? I expect you all to extend the same warm Ottawa welcome to him as we would have anyone else, Understood?” Everyone nodded at him wordlessly. “Good, now that that’s settled, let’s talk practice today.” He detailed the first drill that they would be starting with as the men finished lacing up their skates, and Ilya started to formulate his plan to get Barrett off the team as soon as possible. 

 

*** 

 

Troy Barrett was weird. The first thing Ilya noticed about him was how miserable he looked. Even on the ice, he didn’t seem like he was having any fun at all. Ilya thought that it could just be the guy’s disposition; he’d certainly met a lot of sullen men in his life, but there seemed to be more to it than that. It almost looked like he always wanted to say something, but the words just never came. 

 

Even though he decidedly did not like Troy, Ilya had to admit he was different than expected. He was quiet, and nobody really seemed to pay him much attention apart from Harris. Ilya had noticed that Troy always seemed to find a reason to be in Harris’ office, even if that reason really didn’t make much sense. He loved to play matchmaker, but by the look on Troy’s sour face, he was going to give it some time before he suggested anything. 

 

Ilya caught a glimpse into Troy when he met his father outside their hotel in Vancouver. Ilya didn’t know how Mr. Barrett knew where they were staying, and by the shocked expression on Troy’s face when learning his dad was outside, it was clear that he didn’t know either. Ilya had met so many men like Mr. Barrett; they seemed to be around every corner in the NHL. Everyone always wanted to show off their superstar son, even if the so-called superstar rode the bench all season. 

 

When he was on the Boston team, there was a pair of proud parents who somehow weaseled their way into almost every hotel and had to be removed from the locker room more than once by security. Matt Sholuski was a third string left wing player who got maybe 10 minutes of ice per game. To his parents, however, you would have thought the ground he walked on turned to gold with every step. 

 

Maybe Troy was the way he was because he was never told no by his parents. He was handsome, talented, and obviously grew up with money, judging by the watch that his father wore. It didn’t seem like Mr. Barrett was the kind to play the lottery, and Ilya could spot generational wealth anywhere. But if that was the case, why did he look downright distraught at the prospect of seeing his dad? Nothing about him made sense. 

 

“So, what do you think of the new guy?” He asked Harris casually one day. It wasn’t unusual for him to be snapping pictures of something in the arena when Ilya arrived, and once he’d spotted you it was hard to get away before the conversation started, even if Ilya had wanted to. 

 

“What, Troy?” Harris asked, lowering the camera and looking at Ilya. 

 

“Yeah. Is he… Nice? He seems to be in your office a lot.” He saw Harris’ ears start to pink. 

 

“Oh! Yeah, he um. He hangs out sometimes. I think the guy just needs a friend, really.” Ilya didn’t buy it. 

 

“You are really bad liar.” He said playfully, hoping that by giving Harris an inch he would take a mile. 

 

“I’m not lying!” Harris said and laughed too loudly, even for him. “I really don’t know why he spends so much time in my office. But if I can keep getting free cake pops and coffee, I won’t tell him to stop coming.” 

 

“Ah, so he brings you cake pops? This is news to me.” Ilya said plainly, trying to sound casual while dying inside for more information. 

 

“Well, I mean not, like, everyday.” Harris was stammering. Ilya had only known him to be friendly and outgoing, so seeing him nervous was almost all the answer he needed.” 

 

“You think he is hot, yes?” Harris looked at him with wide eyes like he was caught red handed. He started to say something, but Ilya cut him off. “Is okay! He is objectively handsome. But I see you looking when you think no one is.” He gave Harris a sly smile. 

 

“You can’t tell anyone, okay? I’m serious, it’s so embarrassing.” Ilya laughed. 

 

“I do not think there is reason to be embarrassed. I see him looking at you too.” He winked at Harris and sauntered away, leaving him holding his camera with a bewildered expression on his face. Maybe Troy Barrett being here wasn’t going to be so bad after all, Ilya allowed himself to hope. 

Chapter 14

Lily: I need help.
Lily: I am doing so bad, I can’t take it much longer.
Jane: What’s the matter? Are you okay?
Lily: NO I am not okay, that is why I am texting you.
Lily: Help me, please. 🙏🏼
Lily: Is an emergency.

Shane immediately called him, he wasn’t sure what was going on, but it was unusual to see Ilya be this worked up about anything.

“Ilya? What’s wrong, what do you need? Do I need to drive to Ottawa”

“Shane! Thank god you are home, I need your help with this. No, I think you can do it from where you are.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“Open your door.”

“Um, okay? Are you here?” Shane walked quickly to his front door and unlocked it. On his porch he saw a brown amazon box that looked generally unassuming. He picked it up with one hand, holding his phone in the other. “You needed me to get this package for you? Is that your emergency?”

“No, but this will let you help me.” Ilya’s very helpful reply didn’t clear up any of the confusion and worry for Shane. He went to the kitchen to grab a pair of scissors to open the box. He put his phone on speaker and set it down on the table next to himself. Opening the Amazon packaging, he saw another smaller box inside.

“Ilya, this is a Nintento switch.”

“Yes! Plug it in now, I need help to practice for mariokart. There should be game cartridge in box as well.”

“You need help… playing Mariokart?” Shane sighed, irritated.

“YES! So you know how we all go to children's hospital, right? The kids like to play Mariokart, but I am bad and Hazy makes fun of me. I know you only have Xbox so I buy for you. Luca tells me he plays with friends in Switzerland so I believe the connection to Ottawa will be fine. Online play, he called it.”

“Ilya I don't have time to play mariokart right now, I'm kinda in the middle of hockey season, you know.”

“Oh yes, boo hoo Shane Hollander can't spare 20 minutes for the love of his life to help with dire need, what shall we do.”

“Shut up, asshole. We can play later okay? You and I both have Monday off.” Ilya groaned.

“Fine, but you must promise to set it up before, yes? I don't want to wait 30 minutes for you to add me as friend.” He paused and sighed dramatically. “I guess I'll just play with Haasy. Since my boyfriend is too busy for me.”

“You scared me, don't do that again. Also, yeah, play with Luca, he's on your team. Good bonding, and all that. You could have just asked him in the first place, you know?”

“Yes but he is always playing with his own friends and makes me feel bad for intruding. Also I do not speak German and I feel like is rude to join a call and then ask everyone else to speak a different language entirely.” Ilya pouted.

“You're supposed to let the kids at the hospital win, you know. Kinda shitty to want to beat sick kids at video games.”

“Ah see this is what Bood said to me. He does not understand the thrill of competition. What is the fun in even playing if you do not try your best? Also, I've been visiting some of these kids for months. They get so much pity already, they deserve to have someone try their best against them.”

“That's actually really wise, about the pity thing. Did a kid tell you that?”

“Yeah. A little boy named Tristan. He had level 4 leukemia and I'd visited him a few times. He remembered me, sweet kid. He said that all the nurses and doctors and other visitors only let them win. Said he has not had a challenge in long time and was hoping I would be. When I was not able to beat him he said I was like the others, so I ask you for help.”

“Oh. Well now you made me feel like an asshole.”

“Is because you are.” Shane heard Ilya's smile through the phone. “Monday, okay? I will be online 10:30. I will want to play all day.”

“Okay, okay, we’ll see. I love you, Ilya. You're a good man.”

“I love you Shane. You are almost as good.” They both laughed before hanging up.

Shane sat down on the couch and took a look at the Nintendo switch box. Ilya had gotten him a switch lite in pink and included a travel case. Shane lifted it out of the outer box and saw a small case containing Mariokart 8 underneath. He chuckled to himself as he set both carefully next to the TV. He had practice in an hour, so he’d have to be leaving soon, but he told himself he would set it up when he got back home.

I didn’t even say thank you. He thought as he headed upstairs. Shane pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Ilya again.

Jane: Thank you for the switch. It was a nice gift.
Lily: Was mostly gift for me. But you are welcome.
Lily: Will be fun to have something to do other than just watch each other take clothes off 😘
Lily: Even though that is my favorite thing to do 😍🤩🤤
Jane: Keep it in your pants, Rosanov.
Jane: ❤️
Lily: 😘

He chuckled to himself as he retrieved his sweatshirt from the floor at the end of his bed. He loved that he and Ilya could have fun like this. The long distance was the hardest thing Shane had ever done, but he was grateful they had so many ways to stay connected.

It was weird for him initially because at the end of the day, it was really not much different than what they had been doing for years. But the more he found himself getting to know Ilya as a person behind closed doors, the more Shane found himself wanting to be with him. He was charming and funny and sarcastic of course, but only Shane knew how he was when he woke up. When he had smelly morning breath and a gravely voice and how he always reached for Shane first thing, before he even opened his eyes.

That was the Ilya that Shane so desperately missed. Even after spending a few days together or even a few weeks at a time in the summers, it seemed like he never got tired of spending time with his boyfriend. On some level, he felt like he was pretending at all times. Pretending like there wasn’t too much noise coming at him from all angles, pretending like he loved being in the spotlight, pretending like his safe foods didn’t make him miserable, pretending like he had it all together. But when it was just the two of them, he didn’t have to pretend anymore.

Ilya accepted him at his core for who he was and didn’t ask him to change, but pushed him to grow. It was a delicate balance that he wasn’t quite so sure he was succeeding at in reverse. But Shane assumed that Ilya would let him know if something was wrong, so he didn’t really think about it too much. He hoped that wouldn’t bite him in the ass one day.

****

“Oh fuck you! You’re already in first!” Ilya screamed through the phone, a green shell smacking into the front of his car. Shane cackled as he sped off, having slowed down enough to get a good shot at Ilya before rounding the corner.

“You said you wanted to practice! You didn’t know what you signed up for.”

“I didn’t even know you played this game.” Shane could hear Ilya pouting through the tinny speaker.

When Shane was in juniors, it was tradition for the team to have a mariokart tournament before the world competition. Because he was who he was, Shane found himself practicing all year for it. One of the goalies on their team, a scrawny kid named Evan Larke, would always pack his wii and extra controllers. Several boys would sneak into his hotel room and play until they were eliminated. Once that happened, they usually went back to their own rooms, but some stayed to watch. Shane always made it to the final round, of course.

Mariokart on the switch was different, but he recognized a few of the tracks and was able to pick up the controls quickly. He found himself instinctively tilting the controller like a steering wheel even though he knew it would do absolutely nothing to actually guide the vehicle. His character zipped through a rainbow box, granting him a golden mushroom.

“WHAT?!? A golden?? This is rigged. You have cheated somehow.”

“What can I say, beginner’s luck.” He gloated. They had been playing for about an hour and a half now, with Shane winning most of the matches. “I thought you would be fine losing, what with you in Ottawa now.” He continued. “Lots of practice there.” He laughed, and expected Ilya to razz him back, or at least laugh himself, but Shane was met with sudden silence. He saw the Bowser icon on the screen continue to move, so he knew Ilya was still playing. The silence stretched through the duration of the lap before he spoke again. “You still there?” He asked casually.

“Yes.” Ilya’s reply was hard and cold.

“After this one, what course do you want to play?”

“I actually have to go after this.” Shane was immediately confused.

“I thought you said you have all day today off? It’s only just past noon.”

“There is team meeting, I forgot.”

“No there’s not, don’t lie to me. What happened, what did I do?”

“Nothing.” The one-word answer hung in the air as Shane passed the finish line with Ilya trailing several seconds after. “I just am going to go, I’ll talk to you later.” The line went quiet again for a second and then Shane heard the unmistakable sound of a phone hanging up.

Jane: Are you that upset about the green shell?
Lily: I’m not upset about anything.
Jane: Is it because I said you guys lose a lot? You do, I’m sorry I didn’t realize it was a sensitive subject.
Lily: Can you maybe just shut up for once in your life? I’m just done talking.
Jane: Okay….? I’ll be here when you’re ready I guess.

He looked at the phone in utter bewilderment. He’d made jokes about Ottawa losing all the time, and Ilya usually took them in stride. He figured it would probably be best for everyone if he just let Ilya have his personal time and he’d figure it out later. It wasn’t unusual for Ilya to be in a mood seemingly for no reason. Whatever he was upset about would pass and they could get back to business as usual.

Chapter 15

Ilya was not having a good day. When his alarm sounded at 10:00, he felt like he’d slept all of ten minutes. He was so glad it was his day off; the thought of having to work out at all, let alone play hockey was just about unbearable. The sadness that he so often had in the background was in full force today, making him feel like he weighed about a thousand pounds.

He’d texted Shane, as he always did when waking up. It was too early to bombard Shane with all of his own shit, so he’d kept it light. The feeling would go away, he tried to assure himself.

Lily: Good morning handsome 😘
Jane: Good afternoon, just about.

Ilya sighed. He knew that Shane was teasing, he always made fun of Ilya for sleeping in, just like Ilya made fun of Shane for going to sleep at 9:30 most nights like a grandpa. He just really wasn’t in the mood to take the joke today.

Lily: Yeah I guess.
Lily: Gonna have breakfast, then are you ready for Mariokart? 🏎️🏎️
Jane: Yep!! All set up and ready to go. I sent you a friend request last night.
Lily: 😘😍😎
Jane: I’m not sure what that means, but I’ll take that as a positive.
Jane: Haha

Ilya dragged himself out of bed and slumped to the kitchen. His fridge was absolutely the fridge of a bachelor, stocked well with beer and eggs, but missing just about everything else. Making breakfast today was out of the question, so Ilya grabbed a pop-tart from a box on the counter and plopped down on his couch.

He turned on the TV and switched the input to his switch. Groaning loudly, he realized he forgot to turn it on before sitting down. The “No Signal” error message displayed on the TV, seemingly mocking him. Ilya rolled onto his side and melted off the couch, crawling to the TV stand. He pressed the power button and was immediately met with the sound of the mario kart loading screen. He may have been pre-practicing last night. He was beating the NPCs at this point, so he figured it was time to throw a human into the mix, hence buying Shane a switch. He wondered to himself if he could play games with his niece when she was older. Would she even want that?

This thought turned his already negative thoughts into a downward spiral. Would he ever see her again? The last time he’d seen her she was five years old. He showered her with cool American toys and clothes, earning him a drawing of himself holding hands with her in crayon that proudly was captioned “Best Uncle Ever” written in sloppy cirillic. The drawing hung on his fridge for years in his Boston apartment, but he hadn’t seen it since he’d moved to Ottawa. He hoped it hadn’t gotten thrown away in the move, but he knew that if he hadn’t seen it by now it probably did.

He couldn’t resist pulling out his phone and typing her name into the search bar on Instagram. She was 14 now and he had no idea what his own niece even looked like. Ilya knew it was a long shot, but his brother always was tech savvy. He might have figured out a way to get a VPN so they could use non-Russian social media. He wasn’t surprised, but was disappointed when his search yielded no promising results. For the first time in a long time, he wished it could be different. He wished his brother wasn’t such an asshole that it made going home impossible.

Was she happy? Was she safe? Was she doing well in school? What did she want to be when she was finished with high school? He knew deep down that these questions would never be answered, but he couldn’t help dwelling on them today. He just didn’t have the energy to will the thoughts away and sometimes he had to admit that wallowing in self-pity was cathartic.

He was excited to talk to his Shane. He looked at the clock and saw 10:22. Figuring that was close enough to the planned time, he hit the “call” icon on the Jane contact, which of course was one of two favorited contacts, the other being Svetlana. It rang through and went to voicemail.

Lily: Are you ready?

Ilya waited several minutes before his phone lit up with a call back.

“Hey, sorry, was just talking to Rose” Oh great, Ilya’s favorite person.

“Oh? Did she ask how to win you back?” The annoyance came through in his voice more than he anticipated. Shane, of course, did not notice.

“Hardly.” He laughed. “She’s shooting a commercial in Montreal next week and wanted to see if I’d be available to hang out. But then we got to talking and she was telling me about how the new movie she’s in has this crazy plot twist. She didn’t even know her character dies until they started applying the fake blood in makeup!” Shane was laughing hard. Ilya knew that Rose truly was nothing more than a friend to Shane, but he also knew the media never saw it that way. Anytime they were spotted getting lunch or walking together, it always made the news. Shane would always laugh and take it in stride, but truthfully it did bother Ilya that he never made any effort to correct anyone. Of course he never said anything to Shane about it.

Suddenly, Shane stopped laughing. “Shit, that’s top secret, you can’t tell literally anyone that her character dies.” Ilya rolled his eyes.

“Who am I going to tell, Shane?” He said, a bit too harshly, and adjusted his tone. “Did you know, Nicole Ripley dies in newest Steel Man movie? I heard from Shane Hollander who heard from Rose Landry herself. Don’t ask me why Shane Hollander and I were just chatting though. No one is going to believe me.”

“Okay, jeez, sorry.” Shane said, “I just wanted to tell you something funny.”

“I am sorry.” Ilya replied, feeling like the biggest jerk in the world. “Let’s just play, yes?” He tried to change topics. Rose Landry was just not someone he wanted to think about right now, especially not after making his boyfriend 15 minutes late to his own date.

“Okay, yeah sure.” Ilya set up a custom game, 48 races, and sent an invite to “Voyageursboy91.”

“Nice gamertag” Ilya ribbed.

“Well apparently ‘Shane Hollander’ was already taken. This made Ilya smile for the first time all day. “Shane Hollander is already taken because he is mine.”

“You know it.” He could hear Shane’s smile through the phone. “All my heart is yours.” Ilya was filled with affection and warmth for his man. His man. Not Rose Landry’s, not the Voyageurs’, his.

He watched as Shane selected Mario and customized his cart. Ilya always played as Bowser anytime he could, and he made the biggest most obnoxious car possible, not even bothering to look at the statistics. The first race they were neck and neck most of the track, with Ilya squeaking out a win.

“YES!” He gloated, “That’s one for Rosanov, 0 for Hollander. Is just like when I beat you at world juniors when we met, yes?”

“I seem to remember Canada making a comeback the next year.” Shane retorted.

“Mmm yes, but I still beat you in our first game ever against each other, do not forget. They say you always remember your first.” He said smugly.

“Whatever, let’s see how this continues to go.” Once Shane had gotten warmed up and figured out the controls, he started winning more frequently. Somehow, losing to Shane was much less fun than losing to the kids at the hospital. They were also usually not trash talking the famous hockey player who took time out of his busy day to come see them, at least not very much.

After his 8th loss in a row, Ilya was getting incredibly frustrated. This was not how the day was supposed to go. Ilya’s stomach growled, the pop-tart seemingly a distant memory. He didn’t need to win every game, but he figured it would be closer than it actually was. The gap between first and second grew wider with every race, and Ilya’s self-talk was about as vitriolic as Shane’s, but he knew that he meant every word he said to himself.

Why did you even think this was a good idea?
You can’t even win in a damn children’s game?
You should have never even tried this, this was a stupid idea.
All you ever do is lose.
People are going to figure out how useless you are.
What’s even the point in trying?
You’ll never improve.
All you ever do is lose.

“I thought you would be fine losing, what with you in Ottawa now.” Shane said. “Lots of practice there.”

This was too much for Ilya. He didn’t even respond to the jab. He made up an excuse about forgetting a team meeting, which Shane didn’t buy for even a second, before ending the call. He may have been a bit too forceful, but Shane really did never know when to quit.

Ilya spent the next several hours scrolling on his phone. There wasn’t anything interesting on instagram, so he switched to twitter. Nothing interested him there either, but at least the endless stream of content made it so that he didn’t have to listen to the chatter in his brain. He thought about texting Shane a few times to smooth things over, but really just could not be bothered.

It felt like there was a magnet in his body, pinning him to the couch. Nothing sounded good for food, so he skipped lunch entirely, despite increasing complaints from his stomach. Eventually, he gave up on the twitter stream too and turned back on the TV. He let an episode of some reality show play loudly, not bothering to translate what was being said in his head. He caught about every 4th word, but had absolutely no energy to actually follow the drama unfolding before his eyes.

Ilya’s phone buzzed from somewhere underneath him. It took some effort to find the damn thing since it had slipped between the couch cushions.

Hazy 😘: Do you remember when I gloved down the puck from Scott Hunter a few weeks ago after you and Luca gave him a wide open shot by running into each other and falling down?
Ilya: Thanks, yes I remember. 🙄
Hazy 😘: Want to return the favor?
Ilya: To do what?
Hazy 😘: Sooo, we just got this new couch for our upstairs den, but it’s heavy as hell. Lisa and I tried to get it on our own but it’s just not happening with us two. Any chance you would want to come over and help move it?

Ilya could think of few things he’d like to do less than help Hayes move a heavy couch up some stairs. But maybe getting dressed and out of the house was what he needed, even if it was the farthest thing from what he wanted. He lived close enough to Wyatt that he would probably be able to be back home in an hour, and his mother instilled in him a frustratingly strong need to be helpful to whoever asked.

Ilya: Sure. Be over in 15 💪🏻
Hazy 😘: This is why you’re the best! 🙌🏼

Ilya groaned loudly to himself and willed his legs to move. It took considerable effort, despite being physically in the best shape of his life. He trudged up the stairs and changed into a more presentable-looking pair of sweatpants and a novelty t-shirt he got from a flea market in Boston. There was a goose on the front of it wearing Boston Bears getup. The goose’s jersey had an 81 on it, so of course Ilya needed to purchase it. He looked in the mirror and smiled at himself, remembering how excited he was to find it initially.

He got his keys and shoes on and decided to send a quick text to Shane.

Lily: Love you. Thanks for playing earlier. Sorry I bailed on you. ❤️
Jane: I love you too. Everything ok?
Lily: Yeah, just a down day I guess. We can talk later. Heading out now to help Hazy move a couch
Jane: Okay, sounds good. 👍

Sitting in the car, he waited for the heating vents to get warm while picking out a playlist. It was only a short drive, but Ilya refused to drive anywhere without music. He eventually settled for Bad Bunny, hoping that the music would pump him up enough to fake being fine for an hour while they moved that couch.

Ilya knocked on the door quickly before slipping inside. It was February in Ottawa, and he knew that Wyatt would prefer him come in than wait in the cold. He slipped off his shoes inside the front door.

“Hazy!” Ilya called, “I am here to flex my super human strength as requested.”

“Hi, Ilya! We’re up here!” he heard Lisa shout from the second floor. There was a huge couch in pieces scattered around the living room, some of which on their sides. Ilya skirted around them and headed up the stairs.

“Wow wow, what do we have going on here?” Ilya asked when he saw them. The left side of Lisa’s clothes were completely covered in navy blue paint. She also had white spattered all over her arms and legs, and it looked like both colors streaked her hair. Wyatt came out of the bathroom and around the corner.

“Well, uh, we had a bit of an incident getting the navy paint open. The white is just ‘cause she’s messy.” He winked at his wife, who flicked her paintbrush at him, and tiny spatters of paint covered his t-shirt. “Hey!!” he protested. “This is my fourth favorite shirt!” She just giggled in response. Normally, Ilya would have found such a display of love and affection endearing, but today he felt so much jealousy at the ease with which they could be together it was making him nauseous.

“We thought we’d start on painting up here while we were waiting on the couch. We have a cover over there we can use if we need to, but I think we’re just about done. Here, would you mind taking this brush for a sec?” She handed a small brush stained white from the paint to Ilya and pointed to a window on the opposite side of the room. “I think that window needs another coat of paint on the trim, but we should be good to bring up the couch after that. I’ll start cleaning the rest of the brushes and rollers. Thank you so much for coming over to help on your day off by the way. I hope we didn’t interrupt anything important.”

“Was just at home. Always happy to help.” Ilya lied, flashing her a charming grin. He headed towards the window and knelt down, carefully outlining the window trim to not get any white paint on the navy blue wall. They chatted casually while he finished, which only took a few minutes since it was a smaller window.

“Now, the hard part.” Wyatt said. “Roz, if I get one side, can you get the other? I can be the one at the top walking backwards up the stairs if you’d like.” Ilya suppressed a smile and remembered that Hayes was truthfully the only person outside of Shane in his life who would understand the joke.

“You can’t ask your queer friends if they want top or bottom, Hazy.” They both burst out laughing, and Ilya suddenly felt lighter than he had all day.

“Asshole, you know that’s not what I meant!” Hayes said before continuing, “Let’s do this thing.”

Eventually, both Wyatt and Ilya had gotten all pieces of the couch up the stairs and into the bedroom. Lisa had arranged them so they were ready to be assembled into one piece of furniture.

“What is this room going to be? Nursery?” Ilya ribbed.

“Ha! As if!” Lisa snorted. “This is Wyatt’s room. I’m tired of looking at bookshelves full of comics and action figures in our bedroom.”

“Ahh, I see.” Ilya pointed a knowing look at Wyatt. “This is your nerd room!” He turned his gaze back to Lisa “So you can decorate the rest of the house as lovely as you have already but he can still have his space. Very smart.”

“Quit flirting with my wife, Rozy.” Wyatt said jokingly. “But seriously, though, thank you for coming over. I’ll send you pictures when I have it all done.

“You got another figure didn’t you?” Ilya replied. “This was just a ruse to show me new man on shelf.” Wyatt looked stricken and put his hand over his heart.

“Ah, ouch.” He acted like he was in pain. “I think a Russian x-ray just shot right through me.” He looked at Lisa with mock alarm. “I can’t believe my close personal friend would think so low of me.” Ilya smirked and looked at Lisa who was already rolling her eyes.

“Well? Where is new guy?” Wyatt sighed.

“If you’re going to make me show you, I mean, you asked. I wouldn’t normally do this, you know.”

“Oh no, it is absolutely not normal for me to receive picture of tiny American superhero that I don’t know. Scratch that, eighteen pictures.”

“You know some of them! And I have some Canadian ones too!” Hayes retorted and darted out of the room, retrieving a small action figure. “Isn’t he so cool! Look at the accessories he comes with!” Ilya spent the next several minutes listening to Hayes excitedly chatter about action figure stats as he showed off his collection. Most of the information frankly went in one ear and out the other, but he hoped he was smiling and nodding politely at all the right places. Eventually, there was a long enough pause in the conversation that Ilya felt he could excuse himself without being rude.

“You have lots to do in setting up your nerd room, I should be going now.” Wyatt did look slightly disappointed before giving Ilya a big smile. Great, Hayes is disappointed in me too. He thought.

“Sure! Yeah, of course. Sorry to keep you with my yapping. Thanks again for helping with the couch.” He lowered his voice so Lisa wouldn’t hear from the bathroom where she was still cleaning up painting equipment. “We tried to get these up the stairs, but Lisa dropped one on her foot. She’s insisting it’s fine, but I just wouldn’t let her carry any more pieces after that. Dude her toe is like, so gnarly.” He made a disgusted face and shook his head.

“Of course, is what friends do, yes?”

“I still appreciate it. You’re a good friend.” Ilya gave him a quick smile and started towards the stairs. He was just about to the front door when he heard his friend again.

“Hey, Roz?”

“Yeah, Hazy?” Ilya turned to face him, as he knelt down to tie his shoes.

“I’m really glad I met you.” Ilya stilled and looked up at him, unsure what to say in response. “I mean, like,” he continued “when we first came to Ottawa I was so nervous. I was so tired of riding the bench in Toronto, and those guys were kind of a nightmare to be around if I’m honest, but it was where I’d been my entire adult life til that point. I was comfortable there. I had friends and neighbours that I liked well enough, and I didn’t know anyone in Ottawa. I wasn’t expecting to make friends with the one and only Ilya Rosanov, but I’m glad I did. I’m just grateful for our friendship, is all I’m trying to say, I guess.”

He smiled and clapped Hayes on the back. “I am too. Thank you for getting me out of the house today. I was…” Ilya hesitated, unsure of how much he really wanted to share “having bad day.”

“It’s okay, man. If you ever need to talk, you have my number, you know. Or we can have a slumber party and spill all our secrets one night at a hotel. I’ll bring the nail polish.” He winked, and Ilya knew that Hayes had comprehended the situation, but didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable by making it a big deal.

“Da, thanks Wyatt” Ilya said sincerely. In response, Hayes just smiled warmly and opened the door.

“I’m serious Ilya. I know you know that, but just saying it out loud.” Ilya just nodded in reply and headed out to his car.

Chapter 16

Chapter Notes

These boys love a time skip! This is set March 2021 after the plane incident.

“We’re gonna be late! This was your idea, anyways.” Shane called up the stairs. He absently played with the ring on the chain around his neck while waiting for his fiance to finish styling his hair. 

 

“Is big occasion! I want to look good!” Ilya called back, the stress in his voice caught Shane’s ear and he made his way up the stairs to find Ilya in his bathroom scrunching his curls over a bowl of water. 

 

“It’s just Hayes and Bood, moya lyubov, it’s not the met gala.” Ilya looked at him with exasperation, his hair still dripping wet. 

 

“Is my first time introducing my future husband to a friend. Is big deal! Also, Lisa and Cassie will be there too. But I guess they also technically are Hayes and Bood.” 

 

“Right, Wyatt’s wife is a doctor, right?” Ilya gave a quick “mmhm” as he dug through the cabinet under the bathroom vanity. He pulled out a hair dryer with a diffuser on the end of it and turned it on, the noise of it filling the small room. “Alright, well I’m gonna go sit on the couch and read my book then. If we’re late for your big occasion it’s on you.” 

 

“Is OUR big occasion!” Ilya called after him, and Shane just chuckled and shook his head. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous as hell for the evening. Ilya had floated the idea shortly after they’d gotten engaged. “Everyone will know soon when I make you mine anyways. We can trust Hayes. Besides Svetlana, no one in my life knows about us. Is unfair for me to have to hide that I am engaged to love of my life.” 

 

Over the last few months, Shane’s eyes had been opened to just how much Ilya had given up for him, and how little he’d had to change his life at all. He’d been trying to make an effort to go out of his comfort zone and let Ilya lead when he was ready to share. When he’d suggested potentially having a very small dinner party with a few of his teammates, Shane was scared shitless. He’d barely interacted with these people, and here they were getting to know his life’s biggest secret? But he could tell that it was important to Ilya, and so it was important to him. 

 

10 minutes later, Ilya bounded down the stairs wearing a slim fitting baby blue long sleeve t-shirt and dark jeans. His hair was styled perfectly, with every curl defined and locked into place. He had a huge grin on his face and was buzzing with excitement. 

 

“What happened to the button down you were wearing 15 minutes ago?” Shane asked. 

 

“Was not good vibe. This is, how you say, more casual.” 

 

“Well you could have let me know! Now I feel overdressed.” Shane gestured to his own shirt, a short sleeve heather gray button down with subtle rainbow stitching on the pocket. It had been a gift from Ilya for tonight specifically. He was also wearing jeans since Ilya had told him to not wear anything fancy. He finished off his outfit with the leather engraved bracelet Ilya had given him last year in his WAG basket on his left wrist and an apple watch on his right. Ilya waved his hand dismissively. 

 

“You look great. Here, just let me -” He unbuttoned another button so two of them splayed open. The top of Shane’s undershirt was now visible, and he had to admit it really did make the whole ensemble more casual. “There, better?” Shane ducked into the downstairs bathroom to take a peek in the mirror. 

 

“Looks like someone who knows what they're doing dressed me.” He said. He caught Ilya staring from the doorway and he heard him whisper in Russian. “Whats that?” 

 

“I am saying you look beautiful.  Now let's go, we are already late, yes?” Shane blushed and looked at his watch. 

 

“Shit, yeah, lets get this over with.” They climbed into Ilya's SUV and Shane instinctively turned down the volume before Ilya's phone connected. After a few minutes of driving listening to just the music, Shane spoke up again. “So, they still don't know it's me?” 

 

“Nope!” was all Ilya said in response. Shane waited for him to continue but seeing that he wasn't going to, tried a different tactic. 

 

“Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, showing up with anyone you've been dating in secret is nerve wracking enough I'd imagine, let alone your arch rival of over a decade. You didn't want to tell them first?” 

 

“Will be fun. They like hockey,  you like hockey. They like me, you like me. Basically best friends already.” Ilya said, staring straight ahead and gripping the steering wheel for dear life. 

 

“Okayyy, well, what have you told them about me?” 

 

“Not much. After the… incident with the plane I told Bood that I am bisexual, as I told you. Hayes happened to be there too, but of course he already knew. I want you to meet them, so I asked if Bood would host a dinner party for just the 6 of us. I'm surprised they do not know already who you are.” 

 

“Oh? Why just cause we do the charity together and stuff?” 

 

“Well that, I guess. Also I said I was dating most beautifulest man to exist, and they have seen you, so two add two, you know.” He smirked and gave Shane an adoring look. Shane just nudged him back playfully. 

 

“You're ridiculous." He teased. “So, how do you want to do this? Just get out of the car and walk in holding hands, or do you wanna go in first and spring the news.” Ilya looked unsure, tilting his head back and forth, clearly considering the options. 

 

“Walk in together, I think.” He said finally. “Will show united front.” 

 

“If you say so. I feel like they’re gonna hate me. I mean, they have every reason to. I’m the captain of a rival team.”

“Eh, they will not care so much about this. Bood is like you, one team his whole career, but he is good at seeing beyond hockey. And Hazy will love you. He sees only the best in everybody.” Ilya tried to assure him. 

 

“Is this going to be weird for you? We’ve only ever been on a double date with Ryan and Fabian. Plus they already knew about us before.” 

 

“Mm, yes.” Ilya replied, “But is what I want. I have been talking to Galina about this a lot, and she also thinks is good next step.” Galina, Ilya’s therapist, seemed to have lots of ideas about their relationship. Shane was initially irritated with how much weight her words had for his boyfriend. But when the only person Ilya could truly be honest and himself with was someone he was paying a hefty hourly sum, Shane really couldn’t discard her advice. 

 

There had been several times that Ilya had come back from sessions with her and had good conversations with Shane afterwards. By proxy, he felt like he was reaping the benefits himself, even though he hadn’t sat in a therapist’s office much after high school. His parents thought it would be good to have another emotional outlet. Especially once he played on the world stage at such a young age, David had insisted that it be an option available to Shane. He really had nothing to say to his therapist at the time; he was exactly where he wanted to be and operating at a level his peers could rarely keep up with. What would he need to complain about? 

 

With Galina, Ilya had made it clear that for him, therapy was essential and life-affirming, not just a place you went to complain about your daily woes. She had given him the space to explore things that had hurt him in the past and figure out how to handle himself healthily despite it. Sure, smoking a cigarette would feel good, but thinking long term, how should you handle stressful days? Someone made a nasty remark about you online that hit a little too close to home? You have the power to either let it affect you or not. Here are some tools that you can use instead of shutting down. 

 

He had to admit, the conversations they’d had about the future and about their relationship had been tough at first, but as they had more of them, the more they felt confident about themselves and each other. Shane felt as ready as he could to be married because he and his fiance had put in the work for their relationship and for each other. 

 

Before long, Ilya turned onto a long driveway. A gorgeous house with a huge deck appeared before them both. 

 

“This is the place. Looks like Hayeses are here already.” Ilya said, nodding at the black sedan parked out front. He started whispering to himself in rapid-fire Russian, too fast for Shane to understand. 

 

“What’s up?” He asked cautiously. 

 

“Just pumping myself up. Is, what do you call it when you say nice things about yourself?” 

 

“Affirmation?” Shane offered. 

 

“Yes, affirmation.” Ilya agreed. “Svetlana says she does them every day. She says if I do too, I’ll eventually believe the words I’m saying. Is that stupid?” 

 

“No, I don’t think so.”

“I am terrified.” Ilya said and laughed uncomfortably. “This was terrible idea, let’s go home.” He said quickly as he buckled his seatbelt again. 

 

“We’re not going home.” Shane countered, “You already planned it, we’re here. They’re going to find out eventually.” He unbuckled Ilya’s seatbelt and placed his hand on his cheek, making Ilya look him in the eyes. “It is scary, but you are brave.” He said, remembering the words Ilya had said to him years ago now. His fiance softened and put his hand over Shane’s. 

 

“You’re right. Kiss for luck?” He said and stuck out his lips in an exaggerated pout. Shane giggled and leaned in, matching the stupid expression and smacked his lips onto Ilya’s. 

 

“For luck.” he said and gave a second quick peck because he couldn’t help it, not when Ilya looked so damn delicious. “Now, let’s fucking get it.” 

 

“Fucking right!” Ilya replied as he hurled himself out of the car. Shane wasn’t sure if he was actually excited or if he was trying to make it inside before the momentum and adrenaline faded. A true gentleman, he opened the door for Shane and extended his hand. They tangled their fingers together and walked up to the front porch. 

Chapter 17

Ilya knocked on the front door and waited impatiently for someone to open it. He was sure he was gripping Shane’s hand too tightly, but he wasn’t complaining. Cassie came from around the corner, heavily pregnant, and her easy smile turned into a confused frown when she spotted them through the window in their front door. She hesitated slightly before opening the door, and Ilya tightened his grip on Shane’s hand, causing him to wince a little. He squeezed back a silent encouragement. 

 

“Hi Ilya, hi… Shane Hollander.” She said cautiously. He extended the bottle of sparkling grape juice he was holding for her to take it. 

 

“Just Shane is fine. Thanks for having us. Gift for the hostess.” He said brightly, too brightly. Her smile reappeared, but it looked forced, and she took the bottle from his outstretched hand, not bothering to look at the label. 

 

“Oh! Um, of course! Any friend of Ilya’s is a friend of ours.” Shane and Ilya looked at each other. They could back out now, they could say Ilya’s mystery man got sick and he invited his friend from the Irina foundation instead. Shane was right though, they would find out eventually. Better to rip the band-aid off, he supposed. 

 

“Actually,” Ilya said, “Shane is my fiance. The one I wanted you all to meet. May we come in?” Cassie just stared at them for a beat longer before she spoke. 

 

“Oh gosh, where are my manners? Yes, please come in.” She stepped back and allowed them to walk through the door, shutting it behind them. “Sorry, I just - ah, I wasn’t expecting - you know what? Nevermind. Thank you for joining us Shane, it’s lovely to meet you.” She looked at the bottle he brought. Ilya had picked it out, knowing it was Cassie’s favorite. “Ooh! Martinelli’s white grape, how thoughtful! Thank you, this will be great with dinner. Ilya said you were a big health nut, so Zane made his famous grilled chicken and veggies. I hope that’s okay?” 

 

“That’s great, thanks so much.” 

 

“Great! Well everyone else is out on the back deck; I’m gonna go put this on ice.” She walked away and into the kitchen out of eyesight. 

 

“Well that went well.” He mused. “She seemed to come around quickly though?” 

 

“I am sure she will be watching for everyone else’s reactions.” Ilya said as he made his way to the back deck, still holding onto Shane’s hand for dear life. He could tell that Shane was in awe of the place, with the wide open spaces and the beautiful back deck with heating units to keep everyone warm even in winter. Ilya looked behind himself, and as suspected, Cassie was watching from the kitchen. He took a deep breath for confidence and opened the sliding glass door. 

 

“Hello everyone, we are here!” he said chipperly, impressed at himself that his voice did not shake. He had survived a near plane crash, he could handle introducing his Shane to his friends. 

 

“Well! We thought you’d never -” Zane started to say as he turned his attention from the grill, stopping short when he saw Shane. Ilya began to internally panic, noticing how Wyatt and Lisa also hadn’t said anything and were staring, mouths agape. 

 

“Everyone, this is Shane, my fiance. Shane, this is Lisa, Hayes, and Bood.” He said, gesturing to each person in order. 

 

“Thanks for having me. Smells good out here.” Shane said tentatively, clearly uncomfortable with all the attention. When no one said anything, he spoke up again. “Hey, do you have a bathroom I can use?” He asked in Bood’s direction. 

 

“Yeah, uh, it’s right inside on the left. Second door, should be open.” 

 

“Thanks.” Shane said before giving Ilya a look that he interpreted as talk to them while I’m not in the room, please before making a quick exit. 

 

“So, can I just be the first to say ‘What the absolute fuck, man?’” Hayes finally piped up. “Hollander? Your fiance? And it took you this long to tell us?” Ilya’s eyes were glued to the floor like he’s been caught talking during math class. 

 

“I know it's crazy, him and me. It wasn't something I was planning on, it just kind of happened - wait, what?” He looked at Wyatt who was now smiling at him.

 

“Dude, if I was dating Shane Hollander everyone within a 50 mile radius of my house would know about it. The guy’s a total babe.” He looked at Lisa who was giving him a playful side eye. “What? He is! Did you not see him just now?” She in turn just laughed and shook her head.

 

“He definitely is, sorry hon. Nice job Ilya! What a catch!” She responded. 

 

“Now how the hell is my kid supposed to compete when there could potentially be little Hollander-Rosanovs out there on the ice too? That’s just not fair, man.” Bood laughed heartily and clapped Ilya on the shoulder. 

 

“So, you guys are okay?” He asked cautiously, “With us? As couple?” 

 

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s gonna be weird to see you both together on my fridge when you guys send us Christmas cards, but yeah man, of course we’re okay with it.” Hayes said sincerely. “If you love him and he makes you happy, why not? This is Canada in the 21st century, right?” 

 

Ilya was close to tears now, having never expected to be received so warmly by his peers. He figured they’d come around eventually, but having them accept him right away was mind-boggling. He knew the timing wasn’t right before, but he wished he could have had this sooner. 

 

“So, how’s it going out here?” Shane asked, returning to the back patio after a few minutes. 

 

“They are good with us.” Ilya said simply, not bothering to hide a wide smile. 

 

“Welcome to the Centaur WAGs, Shane.” Lisa said, and hugged him quickly. “You and I have so much to talk about. The gossip in our group chat is insane. I’ll bring you up to speed.” She grabbed his hand and led him to a seat next to the fire pit, away from the other men. She started chatting animatedly and Ilya’s heart swelled. Hayes crossed the deck to stand beside Ilya and away from the grill smoke. 

 

“So like, who knows about this? Does Weibe?” He asked. 

 

“Not yet, was hoping to tell him after season ends.” 

 

“Dude, Crowell is going to freak out.” Bood added, “He already isn’t a fan of Troy posting about sexual assault resources for victims. I’ve heard he’s really given Scott Hunter the cold shoulder too. Not much he can legally do there, but I don’t know if you want to make an enemy of the commissioner.” 

 

“Plus Theriault is of the old guard.” Hayes added, “Can’t imagine he’s going to take too kindly to his star center sleeping with the enemy. Literally. You sure it’s safe for him in Montreal?” Ilya looked at his fiance with worry. 

 

“That I do not know. But if not, I’m sure lots of teams will take him. I hear Winnipeg is nice this time of year.” That earned him a laugh from both men. 

 

“If you think -10 degrees is good weather, then sure!” Hayes laughed. 

 

“If nothing else, I know Admirals would be interested, especially after Eric Bennet retired, I think they have salary cap big enough.”

 

“Ottawa’s got the money for him.” Bood mused. “You could be together.” 

 

“Shane will never leave Montreal unless they make him. He’s Voyageur through and through.” He watched Shane, still listening intently to whatever Lisa was telling him. At some point in their conversation, Cassie joined them and was nodding seriously. It was surprisingly easy, this evening. Ilya thought not for the first time that he’d like to invite Shane to one of Bood’s big parties. People brought their partners all the time, and no one had any issue. Even Harris had shown up with men once or twice and everyone did their best to make them feel welcome. Next year, Ilya told himself. Once we come out, Shane will be by my side at all of these. 

 

***

 

“So, I don’t have to ask how you guys met, but tell us your story!” Cassie prompted once everyone had eaten their fill and was lounging in the living room after dinner. She’d made something called black cake for dessert, which reminded Ilya of his grandmother’s fruitcake, but way better. Everyone but Shane had helped themselves to a slice and were enjoying it as they chatted. Ilya was on the loveseat, his arm protectively around Shane. It felt so surreal to give such an obvious display of affection in front of his teammates. “Did you guys hit it off once you started that charity together?” 

 

Shane and Ilya looked at each other and both chuckled awkwardly. 

 

“Ah, was before that.” Ilya said. “Summer before our rookie season was first time we met, and I could not resist these beautiful freckles.” He put his hand on Shane’s cheek and caressed his face, the love probably oozing from his pores. 

 

“We’ve been actually dating for about 3 years now, but seeing each other every once in a while for about, what, 11 years?” Shane said. He looked at Ilya who nodded in agreement. 

 

“Yes about. Would have been twelve but you kept dodging me.” 

 

“YOU were dodging ME!” he replied, and everyone laughed. 

 

“How did you guys not get caught? That’s a long time with a big ass secret.” Bood asked, incredulous. 

 

“In beginning, we mostly met in hotel rooms when we were traveling and playing each other. We still do not really go places together, just to Shane’s cottage in the summer.” 

 

“See, now the pieces are clicking for me. You know, everyone wants to know where you go when you disappear. I imagine Shane, you have something to do with it?” Wyatt asked. 

 

“Yeah, we spend as much time as we can together, but usually during the season means only a day or two at a time. It’s hard when you travel as much as Ilya and I do, but we make it work.” 

 

“People notice that I am not home?” Ilya said. “I have hardly ever been home in summer my entire career.” 

 

“Well yeah,” Wyatt replied, “I mean, you’re scary enough that no one’s asked, but you know how hockey players gossip. Plus you like never come to parties, and everybody knows you don’t go to Russia and visit your family anymore.” 

 

“And how hockey wives gossip.” Cassie interjected. “The prevailing theory is that you’re seeing a married woman, by the way.” 

 

“Wow wow thanks for that!” He said indignantly. “I would never destroy sacred bond of marriage. You should know me better than that.” 

 

“Hey, just saying.” She said and held up her hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger.” 

 

“So, wait, I’m missing a step here. When did it go from hookups, I mean I assume hookups if you said hotel rooms?” Lisa looked at both Shane and Ilya as if expecting them to disagree with her. When they did not, she continued. “So yeah, how’d you go from hookups to moving countries to be closer together? Seems like a pretty big step.” 

 

“Well, most of that happened during Ilya’s last year at Boston. I’d broken things off with Rose Landry by that point” Ilya made a disgusted noise and rolled his eyes. Shane just looked at him annoyed and plowed on. “And we talked a bit at the all star game, but then I got injured and was out for the playoffs that year. We texted constantly at that point, finally actually getting to know each other, even over the phone. That same year, Ilya’s father passed away too, so he needed a friend and I loved being there for him. I invited Ilya to my cottage for that summer, and that’s when he told me that he loved me for the first time.” 

 

“Was not first time.” Ilya interjected, a crooked smirk on his face. 

 

“What? I feel like I would have remembered that.” Shane said. 

 

“When I was in Russia, after papa’s funeral. I called you, remember?” 

 

“When you spoke in Russian and I just listened?” 

 

“Da.” 

 

“You bitch! I can’t believe you snuck it in there like that. I didn’t even know Russian then.” 

 

“Yes, is why I said it. Because you would not know. Was, how you say, soft launching.” 

 

“I’m about to hard launch you off the balcony! I can’t believe you never told me that!” Shane said, clearly offended. “I would have said it back, you know.” 

 

“Wait, so you learned Russian for Ilya too? Damn that’s dedication, you really snagged yourself a catch.” Hayes said to Ilya. His eyes were wide listening to the men tell their story. 

 

Everyone continued talking until late in the evening. It felt good, to be honest for the first time with his teammates. Shane often was awkward around new people, but as predicted, Bood and Hayes were the perfect people to introduce him to. There was hardly ever an awkward silent moment or lull in conversation because they had an endless stream of questions and anecdotes to share. Ilya and Shane eventually said their goodbyes and made their way to the car. 

 

“So, I think that went great! How do you feel?” Shane asked. 

 

“Better than I have in a long time.” 

Chapter 18

Ilya couldn’t believe he was headed to the playoffs. After three grueling years of work, he, along with the help of his very talented teammates, had earned their spot on that stage. This year would be different, he knew. Not only because this was his first playoff season with Ottawa, but because now the world had accidentally been let in on their secret. Ottawa and Montreal were slated to play in the first round, and there had already been a media frenzy surrounding the game; the two captains were in love and everyone knew it. They were venturing out into uncharted waters. 

 

Ilya had been benched for all of about 2 days before he was allowed back on the ice. Compared to how Shane’s teammates treated him after their secret relationship was exposed, his reception back might as well have been a royal entrance. Game 1 was only three days away, and the pair took advantage of the day off to be together. Shane had driven from Montreal and was sitting on Ilya’s couch, snuggling with Anya. 

 

“Shanee, I have first WAG basket for youuu.” Ilya called in a sing-song voice as he walked down the stairs holding a tiny basket with a purple bow neatly tied on the center of the handle. 

 

“You remembered!” Shane said, startling Anya who was sleeping peacefully on his lap. “Shit, yours is in the car, I didn’t want you to stumble on it. Let me go grab it!” He smiled wide and jumped off the couch, sprinting to the driveway. He returned with a similarly small basket. It was a plastic bin that looked woven. “I found this one, I thought it would be good to keep your stickers in after, since you never actually put them on anything.” 

 

“Haasy made them for me! How am I supposed to pick? They are all one of a kind!” He said defensively. 

 

“I know.” Shane laughed. “That’s why I got you a place to keep them. So they don’t get wrinkled or whatever. Here, you open yours first.” Ilya set his basket on the couch and took the bin from Shane’s outstretched arms. 

 

“Ah, tape, very nice. Wax, also nice. Hold on, what is this?” He picked up a pair of socks with Shane Hollander heads printed all over them. 

 

“There’s a regular pair in there too, centaurs branded of course. I got an ad for these on Instagram. Thought they’d be funny.” 

 

“Is the best gift I have ever received. I will cherish them always.” He said, holding them close to his heart. “Your turn!” He handed the small basket to Shane. 

 

“Tape and wax I see, always great to have. Hey, these are centaurs socks.” He said, holding up a black pair of socks with the logo for the Centaurs. 

 

“Well yes, to show sportsmanship for first round in playoffs. I hear you are facing good team. Something about a record breaking winning streak? Was on the radio.” He said smugly. Shane looked less than impressed. “Ugh, you are so boring. Fine. I got you Montreal ones too.” He pulled out a pair of red socks from his back pocket.

 

“Ooh a new headband too! Thanks, mine was getting stretched out. Oh and this is the best one too, it’s got the grippy part and everything. Thanks again, you really don’t have to do this.” Shane said. 

 

“How many times must we go over this? I am best WAG. Even though we have even more competition with Harris also joining and he is such thoughtful gift giver. Troy is lucky.” 

 

“Oh I didn’t realize that the Cens did baskets too?” 

 

“Ah well, may have been me. Was telling Harris about tradition, and of course he then decided to copy for Troy, and then Cassie found out somehow and told whole group chat, which we will have to add you to, but the way, and was whole big deal. Do you know how many women I have had asking me for ideas for their own partners? Especially the girlfriends, god, Shane you have no idea the monsters you have created. The wives I can handle.” 

 

Shane laughed, “Well good thing they’ll only have to do one, since I believe Montreal is favored, what +1100? Or, was it +1200? “ Ilya’s eyes went wide and a smile split his face, and incredulous chuckle escaping. 

 

“+1200? Are you pulling on my leg?” He set everything down on the couch and grabbed Shane’s hands, hauling them above his head. He leaned forward, sending Shane falling backwards. Ilya straddled him and hovered above Shane. “And what are the odds of you sucking my cock?” He kissed him hungrily then peppered kisses down his neck, biting slightly on his collarbones. Shane panted and bucked against Ilya, his hard dick noticeable through the cotton sweatpants he was wearing. 

 

“Probably about the same as me riding you senseless.” Shane said, the warm rumble of his voice vibrating Ilya’s lips against his skin. 

 

“Mmm I will take that bet.” He kept holding onto Shane's hands as he carefully stood up, leading him upstairs and onto the bed. 

 

Both men got undressed in record time, never moving more than a few inches from each other. Ilya loved fucking Shane in all kinds of moods, but his favorite was silly, goofy sex that kept them both light and laughing. Once he was naked and sitting on the edge of the bed, Ilya tackled his fiance. Shane let out a startled “woah” as he fell backwards. 

 

“So, do I need to put money on the cock sucking for it to count as a real bet, or…?” He let the end of his sentence hang, not needing to finish it. 

 

“He’s a romantic.” Shane replied with mischief in his voice. 

 

“Mm well of course.” Shane just grinned and rolled them both over so he was straddling Ilya and kissed him hard. He peppered his bare chest with kisses as he made his way down to Ilya’s dick. He quickly licked the top, coaxing a sharp inhale from his partner. 

 

“Fuck, Shane.” Ilya said through gritted teeth. “God, I want you so bad.” Shane flitted his eyes upward and met Ilya’s gaze, hot and intense. 

 

“What do you want?” Shane asked as he wrapped his hand around Ilya and started stroking at an agonizingly slow pace. 

 

“You.” was all Ilya could muster between pants. 

 

“Mmm gotta be more specific baby boy.” Shane replied, his voice low and enticing. 

 

“Will you ride me?” He finally said, “after sucking on my cock for a bit?” 

 

“Yes, sir.” Shane said and took all of Ilya in his mouth, who rewarded him with a delicious groan. He deep throated for another moment, letting the warmth build in his belly. He continued to focus on Ilya’s cock, but a hand came up to caress his balls. He could hear Ilya suck in a breath when he started to play with them. 

 

“Hollander, I am going to come if you do not get up here.” He warned. Shane chuckled, and the vibration sent waves of pleasure throughout his entire body. He pulled off with a loud sucking sound and straddled Ilya again, sitting on his thighs. He rubbed their erections together until they were both panting and teetering on the brink.

 

Shane swung his leg over and stood up, which looked like it took considerable effort. 

 

“Will you open me up first? I’m so turned on I don’t think it’ll take long. We can 69, yeah?” Ilya grinned and nodded quickly. Shane laid down where Ilya was, taking his time getting comfortable. Ilya propped himself up on all fours and got on top of his fiance, his dick hanging right above Shane’s mouth. He felt it slide into his mouth easily and Ilya felt his elbow wobble with the pleasure. He sat up quickly, covering Shane’s eyes with his bare ass and drizzled lube onto his fingers. 

 

He sank back down to rest on his right elbow while he worked Shane. He was right, he opened easily for him and it didn’t take long at all before he heard “Can I please get on top now?” 

 

Ilya laid back down and guided Shane’s hips into place. He sunk down and both men let out a guttural groan. They stayed just like that for a minute, not moving. Ilya could feel Shane’s muscles relaxing and tightening with each breath, and he was in heaven. 

 

Slowly, Shane began to rock back and forth, every now and then making a big circle with his hips. 

 

“Fuck, so good to me.” He said, never wanting this moment to end. Shane sped up then, and planted his feet flat on the bed. He began to bounce, taking every inch that he was given with every movement. Ilya dug his fingers into Shane’s hips, desperate to feel him everywhere he could. He started bucking his hips in time with Shane’s bouncing, trying his best to hold off his orgasm for as long as possible. 

 

“Rosanov, I’m almost there.” Shane said, and in response, Ilya grabbed his dick and held onto it loosely. As Shane moved, the pressure inside Ilya grew too much to hold back anymore. 

 

“Shane-” was all he could get out before he felt that familiar peak. The pulsing inside of him must have put Shane over the edge as well because it was only a few seconds before his release spilled over Ilya’s stomach. He stayed still with Ilya still buried inside him. 

 

“That was fun.” He smirked before slowly standing up and pulling off. “I’ll get you a towel, one sec.” He waddled to the bathroom, returning with a washcloth. Ilya wiped up what was about to spill off of himself and threw the washcloth towards the hamper. It landed about 2 feet short, but neither of them cared enough right now to retrieve it. Ilya sat up and announced he was going to rinse off before disappearing into the en suite. 

 

He turned on the shower and let the tepid water run over him, washing away the sweat and funk he’d collected over the last half hour. 

 

“I love you!!” He called over the running water. 

 

“Love you!” he heard a voice say in return. He really couldn’t wait to be married. 

Chapter 19

As they laid together in the afterglow, Ilya was contentedly running his hands through Shane’s hair. He had his eyes closed and was enjoying the moment, revelling in the opportunity for some daytime sex and relaxation. 

 

“Are you nervous?” Shane asked softly. 

 

“For what, moya lyubov?” He replied, not bothering to open his eyes. Shane rolled over onto his stomach to look at his fiance. 

 

“We’ve only played against each other in the playoffs once, years ago when you were back in Boston. Now the whole world knows about us. I already have to hide from reporters who hang out outside the arena when we get out of practice. This only ends with one of us moving on, you know, and no one is going to let us forget about it regardless of the outcome.” 

 

“I know.” Ilya said simply. “Honestly have not given it much thought. We have played against each other many times before, and this will be no different. Yes, we will have more attention on us, but I don’t mind. I know you do though.” 

 

“Yeah it’s seemingly all anyone wants to talk about if they’re not on my team, and if they are on my team, everyone acts like it’s some contagious disease. I just want to play hockey.” 

 

“I know, sweetheart. But we don’t have to hide anymore. That’s good, right? What do they call it when bad thing happens and metal is in the sky somehow?” 

 

“Every cloud has a silver lining?” Shane offered. 

 

“Yes! That! Weibe has said this.” 

 

“Yeah I guess.” Shane said, seemingly unconvinced. 

 

“Sweetheart, look at me.” Ilya said and sat up. He placed a hand on Shane’s cheek and rubbed it gently with his thumb. “The whole world knows now that you are mine, and I am yours. We can go on regular dates, we can get married this summer, reporters will stop saying you and Rose Landry are back together every time you hang out. We can have the kind of easy love people around us do, Shane. I know is hard right now, and we will have to see what happens next season, but this will be good for us long term. You and me, no matter what.” 

 

“No matter what.” Shane agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. 

 

“I am still going to love you even after we beat you.” Ilya said, voice thick with false sincerity. 

 

“Not happening, Rosanov.” Shane shot back quickly, and a smile broke onto his face. 

 

“Ah, there is my favorite smile,” he said adoringly and kissed him deeply. “You are going to play great, and I know it’s all going to work out in the end. The criminal trial for Dallas Kent is coming up next month. Hockey reporters will forget all about us when that happens. Some other big story will distract them soon enough.” 

 

“You’re right.” Shane agreed. “Just need to get through this week and then we’ll have all summer. Hopefully one of us will be able to bring home a Stanley Cup ring too.” 

 

“Da, I will set it next to my other one.” Ilya teased. 

 

“Or I could add it to the pile of mine. I’d say four’s a pretty good number, wouldn’t you?” Ilya tackled Shane then, both men giggling happily. 

 

“Always so confident, my dear.” he said in Russian once Shane was firmly stuck under the weight of his fiance. “Is so much more fun to beat you when you’re not expecting it. I am taking the cup for Ottawa this year.” He switched back to English. “So your parents will finally be able to say that they have a hometown hero who earned it.” 

 

“Hey! I’m still a hometown hero!” He rebutted. 

 

“Yes, but one who abandoned them to play for Montreal.” Ilya kissed Shane’s neck and collarbones, enjoying taking his time with each kiss. Shane suddenly, as Ilya wanted, was silenced except for a few contented hums and moans. 

 

****

“I do have another present for you.” Shane said over dinner. They were having Salmon and steamed broccoli, much to Ilya’s chagrin. He had doused his bowl in teriyaki sauce to add some flavor. 

 

“Oh? I will not get another WAG basket until next round.” 

 

“Or I will.” Shane couldn’t help adding. “Yeah, it’s uh, kinda the same as what you gave me last year? Here, let me go grab it.” He left the dinner table and retrieved a small blue velvet bag with a drawstring. “I know it’s dumb, but I’ve really liked having mine.” He handed it to Ilya who set his fork down and felt the outside of the bag. 

 

“Does not feel like jersey for Irina Foundation Camp.” Ilya said. He opened the bag and inside was a small leather bracelet. It was similar to the one Shane was wearing now, but it was black leather instead of brown. The engraving was also on the outside this time, no longer needing to be hidden. It read: I love you with all my heart - Shane. Ilya immediately held out his wrist for his fiance to put it on him. Shane did, of course, and looked at Ilya, waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, he asked tentatively,

 

“Is it bad? I know I stole the idea from you, but I was going to give it to you as an engagement present. It just ended up getting delayed in the mail, and then you guys made it to the playoffs so I thought it might be fun, but I had second thoughts about putting it in the first one. I don’t know, I can send it back, I know you’re not really a bracelet guy-” 

 

“Shane.” Ilya interrupted. “Is perfect.” Shane really looked at him then, and noticed his eyes were wet. “I have been wanting to tell the world you are mine for so long. I want them to know I am yours too. Thank you for this.” 

 

“Well I gave you a ring already.” Shane said, a bit confused. 

 

“Yes, and I love my ring.” Ilya said, and touched the warm metal on his necklace under his shirt, “but could be from anyone or anywhere. Lots of guys have rings on necklaces for all kinds of reasons. This has your name. Your name on my body where everyone can see. Moya lyubov, we really don’t have to hide anymore, we are free!” 

 

The overwhelming happiness on Ilya’s face gave Shane a lump in his throat. 

 

“Yeah, baby.” He choked out, “We’re finally free.” 

 

*** 

 

The next couple days passed in a blur as both teams made preparations and did drills gearing up towards playoffs. If Theriault had more vicious words to say about Ottawa than he might have had about previous years’ first round opponents, Shane didn’t mention it. He was not in the mood to fight with his coach about anything. His job now was to put his head down and play the best he could play to bring home a third cup for Montreal. That would put an end to all the rumors and gossip and dirty looks, he was sure. 

 

“Alright listen up, ladies” Theriault said after practice. “What’s tomorrow?” 

 

“Playoffs, Coach!” the team responded in unison. 

 

“Ottawa’s been on a hot streak, that much I can’t deny, but that stops tomorrow, you guys understand?” I want to win this the Montreal way, in 4 games. I don’t want them winning a single one.” He flitted his eyes to Shane before leaning in harder. “Their captain is distracted right now, and I’m sure he will be on the ice. Take advantage of that. A lot of them haven’t been playing together very long. Take advantage of that. Some of you boys have more than a decade together, and that kind of longstanding teamwork can’t be matched by skill or luck. It’s time to put on a show. Let’s give the people what they want, yeah?” The men erupted into thunderous cheering and yelling. Shane stayed an appropriate amount of time before slipping out quietly. 

 

Shane: Theriault thinks you’re too distracted to play good hockey. 

Shane: Just FYI

Ilya: 😂😂 Okay 

Shane: Pissed me off. 

Ilya: Don’t worry моя тыква I will win against your team fair and square. 

Shane: Pumpkin? That’s like a normal pet name. 

Ilya: Is what Cassie calls her little baby 🥹

Ilya: And you are my little baby 😘

Ilya: Emphasis on little 🤏🏼

Ilya: For now. I will get you pregnant later and we will have new baby 👨🏼‍🍼👨🏼‍❤️‍👨🏽 

Shane: Gross lol 

Ilya: What?! Am trying to do the right thing. Wedlock and all that. 

Shane: Ilya, did you forget I’m a man too? We can’t get pregnant naturally. 

Ilya: Eh, I am not so sure. I think we should probably keep trying just to be safe 🤭😜

Shane: 🙄

 

He chuckled and set his phone in the cup holder of his car before reversing, almost hitting JJ in the process. Shane slammed on the breaks and put the car back into park, rushing over to his friend. 

 

“Oh god, so sorry, man! I totally didn’t see you there.” 

 

“Yeah, clearly.” JJ said, hardly stopping to even look in Shane’s direction. “See you tomorrow.” He tried to walk away, but Shane stepped in front of him. 

 

“Hey! I’ve barely heard from you since everything happened. Is everything okay?” 

 

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just have been really busy with work and everything.” 

 

“JJ, we have the same job.” Shane replied, unimpressed. 

 

“Yeah, and did you hear? Montreal is headed to the playoffs. And our captain is engaged to the other team’s captain in the first round. Hope he can actually play for his own team.” 

 

“Hey, what the fuck does that mean?” He asked, incensed. 

 

“It means what it means. Now that everyone knows about you two, what’s to stop you from helping him win the cup? With Ottawa being your hometown team and everything.” 

 

“When have I ever let my relationship affect my game? I’ve led you guys to two fucking cups. I was seeing Ilya both times, by the way.” 

 

“Yeah but the stakes are a lot higher now aren't they?” 

 

“What? Why?” 

 

“Nevermind. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

 

“No! You don’t get to just say that and walk away.” 

 

“Nobody wants you here!” JJ finally shouted. “You gotta know that, man.” He continued, in a quieter tone and switched to French. “Listen, I know we’ve been through a lot together. And I know the whole video outing you and Rosanov sucked for you. But I mean look at the optics on this. You are literally sleeping with the enemy. You know management is just buying time until they can trade you, so why not try your best to make yourself marketable right now, right? It would probably be better to just stop being friends, at least until all this shit blows over. Maybe we can try again in a couple years, I don’t know.” 

 

Shane stared at him, stunned and lost for words. 

 

“If that’s what you want, I -” 

 

“I do.” He interrupted. “I’m sorry, I just, it’s too much. It was one thing when Ottawa was terrible and you were just meeting up with him every now and then, but I just really am not comfortable with this. I just- I just don’t want to get caught in the fallout.” 

 

“So me being gay is fine as long as you don’t have to see it and it doesn’t affect you in any way. Got it. Okay.”

“Shane, that’s not-” 

 

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll see you tomorrow JJ. We can be coworkers until I’m booted, apparently."

 

Shane got in his car and slammed the door. Hot, angry tears that had been threatening to fall finally did. He didn’t give JJ the satisfaction of seeing them. He didn’t want to tell Ilya about it, not yet. Either he really would get ousted from Montreal like he suspected, or he wouldn’t, and he’d have to worry about the relationship between himself and JJ later. No sense building a wall between them if it will just have to come down later. 

 

All you have to do is focus on your game. You can make it through these next few weeks and then it’ll be summer, everyone will have time to make their peace with it. It’s fine. He tried to tell himself. It’s fine. It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s fine. The words looped in his head on repeat, but he didn’t really believe it. This stung. How could JJ throw away more than a decade of friendship so easily? He wanted another fucking snickers bar, but had thrown them all away after coming to terms with the first one. He’d never wanted the season to end so badly in his life. 

Chapter 20

Chapter Notes

I skipped their games against each other since the book covers that pretty well. Picking up in round two of Stanley Cup finals 2021 :)

Ilya couldn’t believe it. Here he really was, checking into the hotel in New York City to play for round two of the Stanley Cup playoffs. He hadn’t been to the playoffs in several years and forgot how exhausting they are. He had played Montreal just the day before and only had one night to celebrate the victory in the first round before had to get on a plane to fly here. The only thing he wanted to do now was flop onto his bed and take a nap. It was mid afternoon in New York City, and it was unusually warm for early May. Ilya could feel the sweat behind his knees and under his arms and it was beginning to make him uncomfortable. Maybe he could shower off the plane funk and sweat and then take a nap. That would be really nice. He thought.

As usual, the Centaurs players got rooms all on the same floor. They waited in the lobby while a staff member for the team spoke with the lady at the front desk. As he passed out the keys, Ilya noticed he was suppressing a smile, trying (and failing miserably) to be casual about the whole thing. Ilya had seen him get keys and pass them out to the team at just about every hotel they’d visited during his tenure on the Centaurs so really wasn’t sure what was happening. He glanced at Wyatt who had also noticed the weird demeanor. They shrugged together and headed towards their rooms. Maybe his wife just texted spicy picture Ilya thought.

Ilya and Bood were sharing a room on this particular trip, but based on the exhaustion he saw on his teammate’s face, he imagined that Bood would probably also be down for an afternoon nap. They didn’t have to be anywhere until the next morning when Weibe would go over the plays and strategies for the game later in the day.

Zane was first to arrive at the door, and Ilya took the scenic route to fill his water bottle at the hotel’s ice machine. He didn’t end up filling it, however, after he heard a commotion coming from just about everyone’s rooms. It didn’t sound like a bad thing, but everyone was chattering excitedly, most of the doors on the hall propped open.

He saw Troy first as he was coming out of his room, so he stopped him and asked, “What’s going on?”

“WAG baskets! I don’t even know how they got them here, but they were on the bed when we opened the door. Do ours even count as WAGs?” He looked at Ilya, seemingly realizing for the first time that there was not even a phrase for a hockey boyfriend or husband. “I feel like ‘BAH basket’ is crazy. I’m not Ebeneezer Scrooge.” Ilya didn’t get the reference, but he heard Harris laugh loudly behind him. Troy’s gaze shifted to his boyfriend and a massive smile spead across his face.

“Did you open yours?” Harris asked his boyfriend, ignoring the question of his official title as a hockey boyfriend for now.

“Yeah, started to,” Troy responded “but the tiny trash can in our hotel room was too small for all the wrapping paper Dillon’s wife sent. Damn near filled the entire thing himself. I just stepped out to empty it.

“Well get back to it!” Harris urged and practically shoved him back into the shared hotel room, leaving Ilya standing in the hallway alone. He glanced down to his doorway, but seeing that it was shut, he decided to let Bood open his basket in peace and went back to the ice machine to fill up his water bottle. He had been wearing the bracelet that Shane had got him pretty much without taking it off except for showering and conditioning practices.

He ran his hands over the soft leather as the ice thudded into the metal bottle. “With all my heart, moya lyubov” he whispered to himself, even though no one was in earshot and it truly wouldn’t have mattered now anyways. He thought of last year when Shane had called him from his hotel in Tampa because he was sad he didn’t get anything from his partner like everyone else. Now, his team had adopted a tradition of the Voyageurs that no one even thought they’d make it far enough to see, and more than likely there was a lovingly packed box waiting for him. Ilya didn’t tell Shane that there was a WAG basket in the bottom of his closet that he’d purchased and arranged for him. It felt unreal that his team really was the one playing New York in round 2, not Montreal. He was so sure that the Voyageurs were going to beat them in round 1, he never even considered the possibility of getting more than one basket this year from Shane.

Ilya took his time walking down the hallway, peering into the open doors to see what his teammates had gotten. He hesitated for a second when he passed Luca’s door and saw that someone had sent him a clearly handmade card. Ilya didn’t know he was seeing anyone, or how they found out about this to send him something. He thought about asking him about it directly but he’d have to catch up with Cassie later. Something to tuck away in the old memory bank. Seeing the rookies open up their boxes with bright faces reminded him of world juniors.

Russian parents aren’t typically going to win any awards for their affection towards their children in general, but when Ilya’s team made it all the way to the championship, a lot of his teammates’ parents gave them nice watches or other simple jewelry to celebrate their hard work. Ilya, of course, got nothing. He visited his mother’s grave that day and cried. He always wished she could have been in his life longer, and it was still hard not having his mother around to celebrate successes and milestones in his life even now, but back then the ache was almost unbearable. The first WAG basket that Shane had given him last week was his first gift in almost two decades celebrating a hockey success.

He knocked softly on the closed hotel door matching the number on his key card sleeve and opened it just an inch.

“Bood? Is safe to come in? You have already put away butt plugs that Cassie sent you?” Ilya asked through the tiniest crack in the door.

“What?! Asshole, get in here!” Bood laughed, clearly caught off guard by Ilya’s comment. “Your box is on your bed from Shane.”

“You know, last year when I did my WAG baskets for Shane, I had to give to him in secret.” He confessed as he opened the door and strolled in. Bood stopped crumpling wrapping paper and looked at him.

“Shit, I wouldn’t have even thought of that.” He replied, a small frown on his face. Ilya waved his hands dismissively.

“Yes, but now here is my future husband’s name loud and proud.” He picked up the box and angled it toward Bood so he could see. He assumed his also had Cassie’s name on it, but he was so happy to see his Shane being treated like any other hockey partner. It was unusually normal, for them at least. He traced the letters on the label with his fingers.
Player: Ilya Rosanov (C)
Room: 315
Gifted by: Shane Hollander

“Well open it before you get too sentimental. Cassie told me Shane picked out some real winners for you.” Bood said with a huge grin. He reached into his own box and grabbed a family size bag of individually wrapped coffee crisp. “Want one?” He tilted the bag in Ilya’s direction who just shook his head no. Zane shrugged and plopped down on the bed. He stretched his legs out and sat against the headboard before looking expectantly at Ilya. “Well? You just gonna stare at me, or are you gonna open it?”

“No, I’ll open it, I just. Is special for me, I don’t to rush the moment.”

“I get it man, take your time with it. I’ll give you some privacy, go call the wife.” He pulled out his phone, stood up, and walked out with what looked like a t-shirt in his hand.

When he heard the lock click behind Bood, Ilya couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. It was so surreal, having a package that said Shane Hollander’s name in the mix with his teammates’ partners' gifts. How long had he felt desperate jealousy watching his peers, and now it was his turn to get the easy love that they had. His Shane had taken the time to make a WAG basket even after the loss was so fresh and the internet was ripping him apart for it. Ilya took out his phone and took a picture of the outside of the box. He would post it to Instagram later, when everything had calmed down. He spent several minutes sitting with the unopened box, allowing the feelings to flood him.

This was something new that he had been trying at Galina’s recommendation. Instead of trying to shut down his feelings, she urged him to sit with them, name them, and go from there. Ilya was just beginning to realize that when asked, most of the time he truly could not describe how he felt at any given moment.

“Right now, I am feeling grateful and happy.” He said out loud to the empty room.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of him and he carefully peeled off the tape sealing the box shut. Inside, the first thing he saw was a new bottle of shampoo and conditioner, the special kind he liked. He usually paid no attention to the particular scent he picked, but the bottles Shane had picked out were a limited edition Christmas pine-y scent. Ilya opened the bottle and breathed deeply. It reminded him of the cottage, with the forest of evergreens surrounding them.

Next, he pulled out a new pair of gloves. They had specific ones they were required to wear for games, but Ilya had been complaining recently that his personal gloves were worn and one of the fingers was torn. He figured there was no point buying new ones yet since the season was just about over, but then they made it to playoffs. Shane had actually told him to either stop complaining about his cold finger or buy new gloves just about a week ago. He probably already had these purchased knowing Ilya wasn’t going to get a chance to get to the store.

The next gift was a custom ornament. It was a small blue ball painted with Ilya in his Russia World Juniors jersey, and Shane in the one he wore when representing the Canadian team. They had their arms around each other and their heads leaned in touching each other. There was a tiny red heart above their heads. Ilya turned it around and saw there was text on the back, also painted in delicate white lettering: My Day One. Ilya turned it back around to look more closely at the painting of himself and Shane. The artist had done such a good job of capturing them as teens, with Ilya’s sullen face and Shane’s hopeful eyes. Ilya thought about this Shane a lot, the one that he fell for all those years ago. He wanted to wrap both boys in a hug and tell them it would all be okay eventually.

The last thing he pulled from the box was a Russian cookbook which before even opening it, Ilya could see was heavily annotated. It had a sticky note on the front: Thought you’d like a taste of home sometime. We can make these together at the cottage 🖤 Ilya traced the letters of his Shane’s handwriting, missing him desperately even though he knew that it wouldn’t be too long before they could be together for the entire summer. Opening the book, he saw that all of the recipes were in Russian too. Shane had gone through every page and highlighted random words. Some of them had English translations written above them but most didn’t. He’d placed sticky notes on pages that he liked the recipes and added a little note to each one explaining his thought process.
Make this for the parents when they come over for dinner 7/6
Would be good for a dinner party. Jackie & Hayden, Bood & Cassie, and Wyatt & Lisa maybe?
Cute recipe for kids. Make with Pikes when babysitting
Good for sharing - bring to Irina foundation camp?

There was a Russian restaurant in Ottawa that Ilya patronized semi-regularly, but their Blini was so different from the one he grew up eating, he didn’t even consider it the same food. There had been a Russian restaurant in Boston that was pretty good, but it had been years since he’d had a proper Russian meal. He was still flipping through the book when Bood returned.

“Whatcha think?” He asked casually. “Got anything good in there from your man?” Ilya set down the cookbook and picked up the ornament that he’d set down on the bed beside himself. He stood up and walked over to his teammate to show him.

“Shane had this custom painted. Will look good on our Christmas tree, yes? First year as husbands.” He handed it to Bood so he could take a better look.

“Well that’s just cute as hell. Cassie gave me the wrong size slippers, and we have a whole ass child together! He loves you, man.”

“I love him back, very much. Let’s go see what everyone else got, shall we? I have heard of trade pile with Montreal team. Shane says that it is sworn secret between them that they do not tell their women if anything she gifted was given away.” Bood laughed heartily at that.

“Well, I think Luca’s got smaller feet than I do. Maybe he’d want these. Don’t tell Cassie though.” He winked at Ilya and handed him back the ornament. “Let’s go see our boys.”

Chapter 21

Chapter Notes

This is where the story technically could end. I have two little bonus/add on stories in chapters 22 & 23, but the main part finishes up here. I hope you enjoy!

Shane stared down at his phone, still not believing what he was seeing. He expected the vitriolic comments to die down after the initial shock of losing game 7 to Ottawa. Fans always got upset after a loss, especially a playoff one since some of them may have had money tied to the outcome of the game. It was now nearing a full week after the game, and he was still getting direct messages accusing him of all kinds of impropriety. 

 

“Put it down.” Ilya called from the kitchen, “I can feel you looking at it.” Since the ending of game 7, Shane really had no reason to be at home. He liked being at Ilya’s and no one on his team was too keen to hang out right now. He’d been there alone with Anya for the last three days while Ilya was in New York. The Hollanders had postponed the annual PJ day until Ilya was finished with his season too, so Shane felt like he had nothing better to do than mope around Ottawa. 

 

“I was just checking the weather.” He lied in response. 

 

“No you weren’t. You are practically vibrating with rage. Can feel the dark energy from here.” Shane chuckled humorlessly and turned off his phone, setting it on the other side of the coffee table out of reach from where he was on the couch. 

 

“Fine, you’re right.” He sighed and leaned back, covering his face with his hands and rubbing his eyes. 

 

“Montreal was terrible team without you before and will be terrible team again next year when they realize that they fumbled you. Nothing you can do about it now except wait and see what happens.” 

 

“You don’t know for sure they’re trading me.” Shane tried to argue back, not really even bothering to sound confident. Ilya just looked at him and raised his eyebrows slightly. 

 

“I also don’t know if Crowell will RSVP yes to our wedding, but I have some idea of what will happen.” Ilya said dryly. 

 

“It’s one thing from the fans, I mean they truly can only see so much, but it just sucks that my team thinks I fell on purpose too. I just don’t get it. I’ve literally never done anything but my very best for the team but yeah, sure, why don’t I just throw away 11 years of hard work to make my future husband happy?” 

 

“I know, sweetheart.” Ilya said exasperatedly. They’d already had about five variations of this same exact conversation over the last two days, both virtually and in person after Ilya got back from New York. “It wouldn’t have even made me happy if I did not earn my win. I wish people would get this.” 

 

“Yeah, see, exactly.” 

 

“Do you want to play Mariokart?” Ilya offered in an effort to get his fiance’s mind on something else. “Or is there anything that needs to be done for the wedding that you could make some calls? Or something, Shane, please, I cannot keep listening to you wallow.” 

 

“I know, I’m sorry, I’ll stop. Your team won fair and square and I should be a good WAG supporting you during playoffs.” 

 

“Would be nice.” Ilya muttered, but he didn’t really mean it. He knew this whole ordeal was so much harder on Shane than it was on him. For the most part, he felt happier than he had in years. It had been so affirming to be able to open his WAG basket and show his teammates what Shane had sent him. No one had really made a big deal out of the whole thing, which filled Ilya with pride even more. 

 

Ilya had flown back on a red-eye that morning and only had one day to settle back at home before their game against New York tomorrow. They’d lost both games they played on Admirals’ ice, but it didn’t phase him. They would either pull it back or they wouldn’t, and either way they’d made it farther than their team had in decades. He was planning to eat something and then take a little nap, hopefully bundled next to Shane. 

 

“My parents are coming to the game tomorrow.” He said, trying to think of something to change the subject. 

 

“Yes, David texted me last night. He wanted to know what size Rosanov jersey to buy you.” Ilya teased easily. 

 

“Oh, I’m sure that’s exactly what he said.” Shane replied sarcastically. 

 

“Yes,” Ilya continued, “Said he got giant cardboard head of me to wave when I score goals.” 

 

“Oh yeah?” Shane asked, “And, just so I know of course, how many will that be?” 

 

“Well of course, I will get hat trick. But I get those so often it is old news. Maybe 5, maybe 6, who knows.” He put his hand on the back of the couch next to Shane’s head and leaned in so his lips were centimeters from his fiance. 

 

“Six goals, wow.” He said and Ilya could practically taste the sweetness dripping from his lips. While he wouldn’t have chosen to let the world know about the love he felt for Ilya in the manner that it ended up being, he was getting to the point where he was grateful to just be out. It was so much easier now to love Ilya. He didn’t have to lie anymore when he was planning dates, and now he was going to have the chance to go to a hockey game in support of someone he loved. 

 

Ilya kissed him slowly before making his offer “Come to bed with me for nap. Will give you a wake-up blow job if you fall asleep.” 

 

“You don’t have to sweeten the deal, I’d love to snuggle for a bit.” He said, stopping after every other word to kiss Ilya, who now had grasp of both of Shane’s hands. He led Shane to the bedroom and pulled back the covers for him to get in. 

 

“Just have to use the washroom. I’ll be right back.” Ilya said before disappearing into the en suite. Shane started to retrieve the phone from his pocket before he heard Ilya yell from behind the closed door “You better not be looking at it!” Shane just laughed and rolled onto his back. He laced his fingers together behind his head and stared at the ceiling, waiting patiently for his fiance. He heard the toilet flush and the sound of water running. Ilya brushed his teeth quickly and then hopped into bed, cuddling up next to Shane. It was barely 5 minutes before he heard quiet snoring from his partner. Ilya kissed his forehead and whispered “With all my heart, moya lyubov” before he too, was out. 

 

****

 

The fog horn blared in the 3rd period of the game, and the crowd went crazy, louder than Shane had ever heard an Ottawa crowd be. 

 

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, makes two goals for the Rogue Russian, the beast in black, your very own, Ilya R-R-Rosanov!” The announcer boomed over the roar of the audience. Ilya, of course, was beaming and riling the crowd up, pumping his fists in the air as he circled the ice. Somehow, the noise level in the area climbed higher. Shane noticed Scott Hunter chuckling at center ice waiting for Ilya to meet him for the face-off. 

 

“He’s only got 10 minutes left in the game, do you think he could score another? A hat trick in the playoffs would be so cool!” He said, not taking his eyes off Ilya. 

 

“Maybe. Andersson seems to be favoring his right shoulder. If he could take advantage of that and get a clean shot over it, he could score another goal. We’ll see.” Yuna replied, not bothering to take her eyes off the game. His mom never was much of a sweet talker when it came to hockey, not even for her soon-to-be son in law whom she adored. 

 

“I bet he will.” Shane said definitively. The score was now 3-2 for Ottawa. If they lost this one, they would still go to game 4, but it would be hard to come back from three losses to win four in a row. He didn’t have much time these days to be a spectator of the sport, but he could see why people did, the game atmosphere was fun as hell from this angle. Almost, but not quite, as fun as being on the ice. 

 

Shane watched players on both sides sprint down the ice, make a pass or shoot for the goal, and then have to trek back down the ice in the next instant. He knew intimately how much work it is, but he was awed that the players on both teams made it look so easy. There was lots of footage of himself playing, and he studied it regularly, but watching in real time it really doesn’t give a lot away. 

 

Ilya looked like he was flying. He sped up and down the ice at dizzying speeds, circling slower players. He found it funny how from his seat in the stands, you could hardly tell at all that Rosanov taunted other players.  If it weren’t for the almost imperceptible snarls on the faces of players Ilya passed, you wouldn’t know Ilya said anything at all. They both respected the fuck out of Scott Hunter, but Shane also knew that there were few people who could get under his skin like Ilya could. They’d connected somehow, but even Shane really didn’t know why or how. Even so, every time Scott was shown on the jumbotron, he looked more and more frustrated. 

 

They could all go to the Kingfisher now, he suddenly realized. Shane and Ilya could go out as husbands, grab a seat, maybe try one of Kyle’s fancy cocktails that Ilya always raved about. Everyone would know the truth about them and no one would care. Truly, there were very few bars in the world that would be such a perfect fit for them. Maybe he and Ilya could make a trip of it during the summer. They could even see if they could attend NYC pride while they were there, since it would likely be before the Irina foundation summer camps. Shane desperately wanted to attend a pride event, but he knew that it was just not the kind of thing hockey players did, especially in their hometowns. He was sure NYC pride would be so big that they would be caught up in the crowd and not recognized. 

 

Shane was pulled from his daydream by the goal horn again. He momentarily thought it was Ilya who had scored, but the jumbotron was showing an exuberant Carter Vaughn throwing his arms around the middle of Matti Jalo, the gigantic defenseman on the Admirals’ team. The scorecard switched to show a tie of 3-3 with 4 minutes left in the final period. Bood skated to center ice to do the face-off. Shane scanned the ice for his fiance, but didn’t see him. He must have been subbed out to catch his breath for a final push at the end. 

 

Just as he strained to see the Centaurs’ bench over the huge man in front of him, he saw Ilya stand up, hop the boards, and put back his guard into his mouth. There were just under three minutes left now, and Shane could feel the tension even from where he was in the stands. Ilya had made sure they had gotten great seats, but they were a bit far from the rink. He had to take a deep breath and remember that he was a spectator, not a player, in this game. 

 

Ilya skated past Troy, who was coming off the ice. The jumbotron showed their faces, and they smiled a knowing look at each other. Shane looked at his mom confused. 

 

“Barrett plays wing. Normally they sub out Bood for Ilya.” He said as Ilya skated over to their side of the rink. 

 

“Maybe they’re trying something new. Ilya can play wing if he wants to.” David responded. “Hey, look! Here he comes now.” David held up a giant sign that said “#81 is my future son in law” and waved it wildly, topping it off with a “Let’s go Cens!” 

 

Ilya held up one arm and quickly pushed up his sleeve while in motion, showing off the bracelet to the camera that Shane had given him in his WAG basket a few days ago. He then looked right at Shane and smiled brightly. He held up a hand heart for a half second before making a beeline for the other end of the rink. Shane, much too late, noticed for the first time that the cameras were on both of them in a split screen. He watched himself show off his own matching bracelet to the camera and smile and wave before the camera was back on Ilya alone. The countdown clock had just over a minute now, and everyone in the room was holding their breath. 

 

Bood had possession of the puck and passed it to Ilya, who took it close to the admirals net but didn’t make a shot. Suddenly, he passed the puck behind himself to Dillon on left wing, who seemingly materialized out of thin air to connect the pass. Ilya made a sharp right and positioned himself near the edge of the net. Dillon passed it to Bood in front of the net, who shot it immediately to Ilya, who then took advantage of the goalie’s weak right shoulder and lobbed the puck right into the net. 

 

If Shane thought the crowd was loud before, it was deafening now. The goal horn sounded while the crowd started the countdown from 10. Scott Hunter made a last ditch shot toward the Centaurs’ net, but it was too late. Hayes swatted it away easily as the crowd continued to roar. 

“Four, three, two, one!” 

 

“That’s it, Ladies and gentlemen! Game three goes to the Ottawa Centaurs! Be sure to catch round four on CBC, taking place tomorrow in New York City. Thanks for joining us today for hockey night in Canada - Stanley Cup playoffs round two.” 

 

Shane was cheering louder than he ever had before, earning him some stares from the people around him. 

 

“I can’t believe he really pulled off a hat trick with 14 seconds left!” He said to his parents with a huge grin plastered onto his face. 

 

“That was some good hockey! Whoo, I got goosebumps!” His mom agreed. 

 

“And that little gesture he did for you before the goal? Wow!” David cut in. “He’s a great guy, Shane. I’m so happy for you two that you get to be loved out loud now.” He could feel himself tearing up and really didn’t want to cry now, even if they were happy tears. He was just so damn proud of Ilya and he was overwhelmed by his gesture. It had never even occurred to Shane that they could love each other on the ice like other men loved their wives, blowing kisses during warm ups and embracing after a hard fought win. 

 

“It was unnecessary, coming all the way down here just to have to sprint back up the rink.” Yuna started, but then seeing Shane’s face fall slightly, she added, “but it was very sweet though.” 

 

The Hollanders gathered their belongings and made their way down the steps, a swarm of hockey fans sweeping them in the general direction of the exits. 

 

“Hey, I’m gonna wait for Ilya by the locker room. I’ll catch a ride back to his place with him.” 

 

“Okay, sounds good! We still on for breakfast tomorrow though?” David asked. He loved having Shane so close to home while he was staying at Ilya’s during playoffs. 

 

“Yep, I’ll meet you at Charlie’s diner at 9!” He replied quickly before rushing off, hoping not to be recognized. Nobody really seemed to be paying much attention to their surroundings, luckily, as everyone was excitedly chattering about the game. He slipped quietly through the crowd and into the hallway where he knew the home team locker room was. Even from where he was standing about 50 feet away from the door, he could hear raucous cheering and celebrating. He pulled out his phone to text Ilya where he was. 

 

“Hey, nobody’s supposed to be back - Oh! Shane Hollander?” He heard a voice behind him say. He turned around and came face to face with a security guard. His faded name badge said Remy Williams. 

 

“Sorry, Mr. Williams, I was just…” He hesitated out of habit before remembering that thousands of people just watched Ilya do a hand heart at Shane and wave around their matching bracelets. Probably millions more watched them make out already, so what was he hiding anymore? “Waiting for my fiance, Ilya Rosanov.” He said, like it hadn’t already made the rounds in the building that Ilya’s famous hockey player fiance was in attendance for tonight’s game. 

 

“Of course. And please, call me Remy. If I could just have you wait with the other family members, that would be awesome. I’m sure you understand, we just can’t have people congregating back here. The boys will be out soon.” He turned and started to walk away before Shane stopped him. 

 

“Um-” he said, and Remy turned back around to look at him. “Sorry, I just. I’ve never been able to wait with them before. Could you show me where they normally are?” 

 

“Oh! Yes absolutely. I’m sorry, I didn’t even think-” he looked like he was going to say more, but instead went with simply “Anyway, please follow me.” Remy led him back down the hall and into an elevator in the lobby. He pushed the button for the suite floor. There was a designated box set aside for Centaurs’ friends and family after every home game, another one of Ottawa’s niceties that other teams could (and should) copy. In Montreal, family members either waited just outside the locker room by security or somewhere in the lobby. “The box is just up there on your right. Can’t miss it.” 

 

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.” Shane said before walking tentatively down the hall. He heard the part before he saw it. There were big windows pointing into the hallway so he could see inside before actually entering the room. He scanned the room for a familiar face, and was relieved to find Lisa laughing easily with some other women. She looked up right as he opened the door. 

 

“Shane!!” She said, and the room went quiet momentarily. Before he knew it, Shane was being pulled into hugs and handshakes with people he’d never seen before. Everyone was so welcoming and kind to him, it made him almost want to run away. 

 

“Guys, please, let’s give the new guy some space!” He turned to see who said that, and saw who he thought was Harris standing in the doorway. 

 

“Aren’t you working right now? You don’t normally come up here.” Someone said, Shane wasn’t sure who. 

 

“Yeah, well, ran into Remy in the elevator. He said he brought up Shane, and I know this group too well.” He looked at Shane, smiled kindly, and stuck out his hand. “How are you? I’m Harris. Hope these ladies didn’t rough you up too bad. New WAG and all, there’s gotta be some hazing.” 

 

“We didn’t do anything to you when you joined the WAGs! Shane, don’t listen to him, he loves to lie.” That was Cassie, holding a very tiny newborn baby who was fast asleep. Harris narrowed his eyes and put his hands on his chest.” 

 

“Cassie, you wound me!” He said dramatically. “And I’m still sleeping with one eye open, just so you know. I’ve only been dating Troy for like, two weeks, I don’t know your schemes.” Everyone laughed at that, breaking some of the tension Shane was holding. Okay, I gotta get back to it, lots of highlights to post from tonight of course. But Shane, you’ll let me know if you need anything, yeah? Us hockey boyfriends have to stick together.” 

 

“Yeah, sure.” Shane said dumbly before Harris nodded, spun around, and disappeared down the hall. He was really going to like being a WAG. 

Chapter 22

Chapter Summary

What really caused J.J. to react the way he did? Bonus chapter to explain and start on the path to reconciliation.

Shane’s doorbell rang just past 10:00pm. Ilya was staying with Shane for a few days to help him pack. Wherever he was going, he was definitely leaving this house. They would put most of Shane’s things in Ilya’s and his parents’ garages for now and then when it was determined where he was going to be living, he wouldn’t have so much to do in addition to finding a new place to live.

“Are you expecting company?” Ilya asked. He was in the middle of packing a box of dishes, stacking plates carefully with a paper towel between each.

“No? It’s probably another reporter wanting a statement or something. I’ll get rid of them.” Shane said and carefully stood up around all of the food sitting on the floor. He was annoyed that he’d finally worked up the motivation to clean the fridge properly before packing the food just to have it interrupted yet again by someone who wasn’t going to get their story.

He opened the door without looking through the window first. It had been his mom’s idea to put up a curtain on all windows after the second time he saw a camera flash from the front yard while he was alone at night. “Hey listen, it’s late, I’ve already said no comment- Oh!” He stopped speaking when he saw who was at the door.

“You have every right to kick me out,” JJ started, hesitantly eyeing Shane to gauge his reaction to showing up unannounced, especially when they had left things in their relationship as rocky as they did. “But please at least hear me out.” Shane just stared at him in response, unsure what to say, but he did step back to invite him inside. JJ blew out a breath and followed Shane in, not taking more than a few steps inside the door.

“Who was that?” Ilya shouted from the kitchen, clearly unaware that the guest was inside the house now.

“Um, it’s JJ. Hi, Rosanov.” He called in response. Shane was still momentarily at a loss for words, just staring at his friend. On hearing who was at the door, Ilya immediately stood up and came over, the clanging of dishes accompanying him like a soundtrack.

“It’s 10:00 at night.” Shane said simply.

“I know, and I should have called first, I just. I need to talk to you.” He was looking only at Shane, but Ilya grabbed Shane’s hand and said, “Whatever you have to say, you can say to both of us. And no, Shane did not fall on purpose.”

“I know that, okay? Will you just- Ugh!” JJ ran his hand down his face, clearly frustrated and not expecting Ilya to be over. “I’m sorry. Can we sit down?” He looked around for the first time and saw boxes scattered across Shane’s living room. He looked like he wanted to ask about it, but decided either they would come back to it, or to drop it.

“Well,” Shane said, finally finding his voice, “that depends. What’s so important you needed to come over right now after saying what you did to me?”

“Well I know I can’t excuse it. That was a shitty thing to say to someone who had been my friend for a decade. And I’m not asking you to forgive and move past, but I just wanted to give you a heads up. Although I think you may have already gotten the memo.”

“Heads up for what?” Ilya asked.

“Management is beyond pissed. Shane, they’re going to trade you.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged, “I was done with them already about two weeks ago after no one stood up for me.”

“I kinda figured, given the boxes.” JJ said sadly. “Where are you going to go?” He looked at Ilya for some sort of hint. Unfortunately for him, Ilya remained stone-faced and impossible to read.

“Ottawa’s my first choice.” was all the response that JJ was going to get.

“Well, if you want to stay in the NHL, you might have to make nice with Crowell.”

“Did he call you?” Ilya asked. He looked pissed in a way that Shane wasn’t sure fit the situation.

“No, but he called Hayden. Said that he needed to pick better friends and to watch himself to make sure you don’t drag him down with you.”

“He never even said anything. When was that?”

“About 20 minutes before I freaked out on you.” JJ said guiltily. “We were in the weightroom after practice when it happened. I thought you’d already left.”

“I do not like this.” Ilya said. “First Troy, and then us, and now this.”

“Wait, what happened with Troy?” Shane asked, but Ilya plowed ahead.

“Crowell is a bully. He has to know that we will not stand for this. JJ, we forgive you.”

“Well hey, I didn’t -” Shane butt in, but again Ilya did not stop.

“And I understand why you put distance between yourself and Shane, but it was shitty, yes? You should have just talked to him.”

“Oh yeah, Mr. 9-year booty call? Is that what you two did? Just talk?”

“Well if one cannot learn from one’s own mistakes, at least learn from mine when I am spelling it out for you. Just talk. Shane needed you-”

“I’m still right here”

“-to be a good friend and you weren’t here. And that’s not fair to him.”

“Ilya, I-” Shane started.

“I know.” JJ interrupted, ignoring Shane again. “I know I was a shitty friend and it was a shitty thing to do and listen, I just feel like shit, okay? I know I fucked up, and I’m not going to pretend like it was all Crowell’s fault when it really was mine. I’m just…” He was looking at Shane now. “I just wanted you to have all the information. I’m sorry I put my career over our friendship. And I overheard Theriault talking to someone on the phone today when I went in to take my stuff home for the summer. He said they’re just buying time until they can boot ‘the traitor.’ Thought you deserved to know.” He started to turn around to go home when Shane stopped him.

“JJ? Thanks. I appreciate you telling me.” He nodded and then was gone. Shane shut the door behind him and looked at Ilya.

“Well thanks for that.” He said sarcastically.

“What? Was anything I said untrue?” Ilya said defensively.

“No, but I can fight my own battles. Great first impression, by the way.”

“I appreciate that I’d never met him before, but the man turned his back on you. He made you feel like shit when he was supposed to be in your corner. I understand why now, but that does not give him a free pass from me. This Crowell thing is bad. Should we tell Scott Hunter?”

“Oh cause of his little hockey nice-guy club? What’s he going to do about it?” Shane asked.

“Maybe nothing, but the more people pressure Crowell to do the right thing, the more he will not have a choice. You have had a legendary career already, but I will not let him take this from you too.” He stepped close to Shane and hugged him tightly. “We will figure this out, moya lyubov.”

“Ilya, I’m okay.” Shane laughed. “I’ve already talked to Farah, the Canadian law is really strict about this kind of thing. He can’t legally throw me out, and he can’t create a hostile work environment because of my sexuality. I’ve spent enough time stewing about this, you were right. Let’s take a break from packing, yeah? I have an idea of how we should spend our evening. Shane winked and took Ilya’s hands, leading him to the bedroom where the only thing left was a mattress and box spring on the floor.

“Ah, sometimes you do have good ideas.” Ilya responded before acquiescing to Shane’s every wish.

Chapter 23

Chapter Summary

2021 Hollander PJ day (but this time engaged)

Shane stared at the ring around Ilya’s neck. He couldn’t believe that after all they’d been through, after the last 6 months especially, that Ilya would betray him like this. 

 

“And that, moya lyubov, completes Boston to Vancouver for an additional 22 points.” Ilya moved his game piece around the board, nearly lapping Shane’s. 

 

“You knew I needed Denver to Omaha! You didn’t even need to go there! You’re just being mean.”

“Now Shane, that’s not very sportsmanlike.” Yuna said, slightly shaking her head. 

 

“Okay, yeah, but he’s not being sportsmanlike either, mom! He went way out of his way just to block me! You don’t even like Ticket To Ride!” Ilya was howling with laughter now looking at Shane’s pouty face. 

 

“You are so sensitive! You can still get there.” He pointed out. 

 

“Yeah with like 6 more turns. You’re gonna go out before then and I’m gonna lose.” 

 

“And I truly think you will live.” Ilya replied smugly. 

 

“Whatever, I’m gonna use the washroom before my turn I guess.” Shane stood up and shuffled his slippered feet down the hall to his parents’ bathroom. 

 

“Touchy today, eh?” David said, looking at Ilya. “Just remember, you have to take him home.” Ilya waved his hand and let out an unbothered 

 

“Pfft, I can handle his moods. He’ll be fine in 5 minutes, I promise. You should have seen him after the loss against my team.”

“I did!” David rebutted, “Don’t forget you went to New York right after and I had to have breakfast with the poor guy every day until you came back. God he was miserable.” 

 

“And then he came over here to complain to me as well, of course.” Yuna added. 

 

“Right! You got off easy there, Ilya. I got a double dose of sorry-for-himself Shane.” 

 

“God, how am I ever going to handle it when there are two Shanes in my house one day?” Ilya asked, but he was smiling so big, neither of the parents thought he meant any ill intention by it. 

 

“Could be three! Twins run in my family, you know.” David said. 

 

Ilya without missing a beat responded, “Good to know. I will be careful when we try for baby.” David nodded and studied his cards. He picked up two off the top of the deck and set down his own cards, noting the end of his turn. 

 

“Yeah! Probably don’t go off birth control really until you’re close to retire- Wait.” He stopped himself and Ilya and Yuna shared a look and burst out laughing. “Hey, it’s not funny, I really forgot!” He tried to defend himself, but that just made them laugh harder. 

 

“What’s so funny out here?” Shane asked as he sat back down. 

 

“Your dad was telling me about how twins run in the family. Told me I should wait to come off birth control until I retire just in case.”

 

“Hey now, that is not what I said! And I remembered eventually.” 

 

Ilya squinted his eyes and waved his head back and forth. “Mmm, was close enough.” He turned his attention back to his fiance and caressed his cheek. “Don’t worry my Shanya, I will make you a dad whenever you want,” He eyed David and cracked a grin, “but we may have to be a bit more proactive.” 

 

“Okay, what? What brought up us having kids? I was gone for like a minute.” 

 

“Today always makes me think of you as a kid, if it helps.” Yuna said, and crossed her arms. She was wearing a light pink tank top with matching pink and white pajama pants. “I love Hollander PJ day. Do you remember your first one?” 

 

“We might get in the parenting hall of fame for this, actually.” David agreed. His own pajamas were less put together, with an old hockey camp shirt that had a hole in one of the armpits and a pair of plaid flannel bottoms that looked about as old as the t-shirt. 

 

“Yes, mom, I remember.” Shane said, annoyance in his voice. 

 

“Wait, but Ilya has not heard the story!” Ilya said, looking back and forth between his future in-laws. He, of course, went all out again and bought himself and Shane matching pajamas for this year too. They were both wearing black t-shirts that said “My fiance is like, so hot” with a picture of a cartoon fire. Shane called it a boomer mom gift, but eventually agreed to wear it. 

 

Yuna smiled and ruffled Shane’s hair, winning her a very petulant “mom, stop!” from her son. 

 

“Well, we have to tell Ilya, of course.” She said in his direction. “So picture this: seven year old Shane just got done with his third hockey season. His team ended up winning in the league he was in, of course. I was exhausted. Shane just had so much energy all the time and he wanted to be on the ice constantly. Even after winning the series, he wanted to keep practicing with his dad,” 

 

“Who was also exhausted, I might add.” David interrupted. 

 

“Right, so we were just beat, and the day following that championship game we had absolutely nothing going on. My little Shane pounces us at 7:30 in the morning, full hockey gear on, helmet and everything. 

 

“But not his skates, thankfully! He’d learned that lesson to not wear skates in the house after he’d ruined his on the basement floor and had to buy new ones with chore money.” David laughed heartily, which did nothing to lessen the embarrassment that was all over Shane’s face. 

 

“I don’t even remember if it was your idea or mine, honey.” Yuna said, looking at her husband. 

 

“I think it was yours. I don’t know if I could have convinced Shane of anything at that age.” He responded. 

 

“Well anyways,” She continued, “One of us, probably me, told Shane that we were starting a new family tradition, but he wasn’t dressed appropriately. Oh man, you should have seen the pouty face he had the entire day! We ended up letting him still wear his hockey jersey over his pajamas since nothing we said could make him take it off. You could see the little beads of sweat in his hair.” She laughed at the memory, completely lost in thought. “We told him to take off the jersey, it was making him too hot, but no luck there. You’ve always been stubborn, even way back when you were a toddler.” 

 

“You were always in that damn thing back then.” David added, “I can still smell the little boy sweat on it. Somehow it never got un-stinky no matter how many times it was washed.” 

 

“Okay, we get it, I was a stubborn, stinky, annoying kid.” Shane said defensively. 

 

“No, honey, that’s not the point of telling the story! You were such a special kid too. Oh Ilya, I wish you guys could have known each other then.” His mom said. “We had to buy hockey tape in bulk since Shane was always sharing his with his teammates who had forgotten theirs. And he always made sure that everyone was included. Oh, David, do you remember that kid, oh what was his name, the one with the huge buck teeth?” 

 

“Not a very nice thing to say, but his name was Charlie. From my middle school team?” Shane asked. 

 

“Yes! Charlie. Oh he was such a sweetie, but he had these crazy teeth; all the other kids called him beaver.” That made Ilya burst out in laughter. “He unfortunately also wasn’t very good at hockey, so most of the boys hated being partnered with him for drills. Shane always picked him first and made sure he wasn’t excluded when they went out for ice cream after games or whatever they were doing. 

 

“So sweet, my бутылка для воды. Always such a little leader.” 

 

“I don’t think I’ve heard that one before, what’s it mean?” David asked. 

 

“Water bottle.” Shane rolled his eyes. “He does that to test my vocabulary.” 

 

“He is getting so good!” Ilya beamed. “I was not even so good at English when I moved to America.” 

 

“Well, how did your parents celebrate the end of hockey season, Ilya?” Yuna asked. “Did they do anything special or were you just done?” Ilya took a drink of his water and nodded. 

 

“My mother did.” He said fondly. “She would make Medovik for me and Andrei, when he played hockey. He quit when I was young, so it was mostly just for me. Is Russian cake with honey and sour cream frosting. It was my favorite, but papa said it would slow me down during hockey season.” He laughed humorlessly. “I have not thought about Medovik in years. Would it be okay if I brought some next year? To honor her. She would have loved you guys.” 

 

There were tears in Yuna’s eyes. “Of course, sweetie. It sounds lovely. I’m so happy you’re part of our family.” Ilya smiled a genuine smile full of love and warmth at his fiance. 

 

“Me too.”