Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander, David Hollander, Yuna Hollander

Additional Tags:

Trans Ilya Rozanov, Cis Shane Hollander, Figure Skater Ilya Rozanov, Because Russia, Friends to Lovers, Irina Rozanova Haunts the Narrative, Coming Out, Good Parents David Hollander/Yuna Hollander, Brief mentions of internalized transphobia, Ilya Rozanov is Good With Children

Language:

English

Series:

Part 2 of Always This

Stats:

Published: 2026-03-27 Words: 30,044 Chapters: 1/1

every night that summer, just to seal my fate

Summary

As the latest hockey season fades into summer, Ilya and Shane’s relationship continues to heat up. Both boys attempt to navigate how they feel about each other and what they want to do in life, all while trying to appreciate their respective vacations.

Notes

A thousand thanks to maevedarcy for checking our commas and cheerleading us, our first and most excited reader!

Translations: Hover over text on desktop or check the end notes.

April 2012 - Boston

Hayden Pike had a good season. Montreal got into the playoffs which was unexpected to some given how full of rookies the team was but not unexpected if you considered that one of those rookies was Shane Hollander. He had a good season and to close it out, he set his wedding for late April immediately post-season. Hayden Pike was having a great fucking season playing next to Shane Hollander and getting married to a woman who was too beautiful and smart for him and Ilya wanted maybe a little to punch him in the face about it. He glared at the Instagram stories rolling in from different NHL players and Shane's own feed and wished there was a middle finger button next to the little heart.

Shane does look good in these pictures. He has finally found a suit that he is not worn by. It is likely that Yuna Hollander has found him a good men’s fashion endorsement. His favorite is of Shane smiling for the camera, his hair ruffled slightly by the wind. Ilya has to crop Hayden out, but overall it is a good picture. Feeling irritated, he throws his phone on the bed. He needs to find something to do. His morning had already been spent practicing on his Polyglide rink, a little bit of hockey but more so his jumps. Ilya is starting to realize that when hockey is not in season to distract him, that growing ache of missing figure skating starts to gnaw at him.

He has a call with Tessa in the early evening but nothing much to do until then except be irritated that he cannot be at this stupid boring wedding with Shane; watching him dutifully perform his best man tasks, dancing with him after the ceremony, taking him out of that properly fitted suit in a hotel room, watching him carefully put the damn thing away as Ilya gets more worked up with every ridiculously meticulous movement.

Ilya shoves a pillow over his face. He cannot keep doing this. He will drive himself crazy thinking about Shane Hollander and not being there with him. Exiting social media, he goes through his phone trying to find any other distraction. Perhaps someone else to talk to about their summer. His search is paused when his eyes land on a name in his contacts: Allison, his former coach.

It was strange still living in the same social sphere as someone who had been his whole sense of safety and protection once upon a time, the only adult who seemed to care more that he had been a child than the fact that he had been her athlete. He had seen her twice this year, from afar, when he played her husband (and won, easily). Ilya owed him almost as much as he owed Allison for shepherding him into hockey. Wiebe was an alright player and Ilya didn't think that unkindly, he had great strategy and an uninspired execution. If they were on the same team Ilya would take advice from him but not pass him the puck much. Wiebe had a lot of what people called Hockey IQ when they talked about Shane, it's just that Shane had the hands to back it up. He felt guilty not talking to them in public when they had literally saved his life, but they had all agreed that part of keeping this new life safe and afloat was pretending there had been no life before it and that included Allison and Brandon. It was strange seeing them and pretending to be strangers. Still, texting Allison wasn't out of the question. He always messaged them on their birthdays and he discretely sent their daughters gifts as soon as he had even a cent of extra money. He bit his lip considering that the end of the season actually gave him a perfect excuse to text her.

Ilya: Hey - how's retirement treating Wiebe?

Her answer was quicker than he expected.

Allison: Ilya, darling! He's driving me up the wall, thank you for asking.

Ilya laughs and can immediately understand. Wiebe never struck him as someone who would ever fully retire from hockey. Like Shane, hockey seemed to run in Brandon’s blood. Ilya would not be surprised if the man came out of retirement someday to become a coach.

Ilya: Is retirement not supposed to be relaxing?

Allison: Oh, he’s relaxed. It’s just that his idea of relaxation is not very relaxing for me.

Allison: How have you been? Sounds like you had a good season!

Ilya smiles at the idea that Allison could have been keeping tabs of his career. However, perhaps he should not have doubted this. It is very much in line with her character.

Ilya: I have been good. Summer is boring.

Allison: You have NHL money and no kids, Ilushenka. Go travel! Go party! 

He blushes at the nickname. Allison had been the first one he had told the name he'd chosen and she had instantly shown her acceptance by giving him a little name.

Ilya: How about I take the girls to Disney and you take Wiebe to Ibiza?

Allison: Don't play with my heart, Ilushenka.

Ilya: I would not do that to you, Allison Wiebe

Allison: You would willingly take two little girls to Disney instead of enjoying your summer??

Ilya: Who said taking your kids to Disney would not be enjoyable? I will let them meet princesses and eat all of the churros and remind them that Mickey is inferior rodent.

Allison: I wouldn't be so cruel as to send you on your own with them but vacations ARE easier when we outnumber them.

Ilya: Power play on the kindergarteners, yes.

Allison: You sound like a hockey player

Ilya: What? Me? Hockey player? Is that why I am in NHL?

Allison: If you're serious I'll bring it up to Brandon. But really you should be enjoying your millionaire bachelor life.

Ilya: I am so serious Allison Wiebe. And I am always millionaire bachelor wherever I go. Mouse cannot stop me.

Allison: Okay, I will let you know then. But knowing Brandon, he’ll likely say yes. 

Ilya gives a small fist pump in excitement, though he knows there is no one around to see it.

Ilya: I will take care of everything

Allison: Ilya, you don’t have to do that

Ilya: Consider it gift for being best coach ever. Or for billet. Or girls’ half-birthday. You pick.

He spends a couple of hours googling and making a vague idea of a plan, and by the time it's time to talk to Tessa, he feels better. Less lonely. He takes the Facetime call and props his phone up, “Hello.”

“Hi Ilya, how's summer so far?”

“Boring,” he grins, “please give me work.”

“Oh, I will, don't you worry about that,” she says as she shuffles papers. Tessa always has papers and she is always shuffling them.

“But,” he adds, “I will be taking a week vacation to Disney World so please keep this in mind. Also please help me plan week vacation Disney World thank you.”

“Disney World, huh? What's the occasion?” she asks.

“Planning to spend time with my...billet family,” Ilya answers. “Spoiling their daughters.”

“That is so adorable. You are my favorite, you know that?”

“Yes, of course,” he smiles, “okay, what work do you have? Did you get Canada Dry?”

“Ilya, baby, you know they don't do faces,” she says rolling their eyes, “but if that ever changes you will be the first to know.”

“It is stupid. All other drinks use faces,” Ilya retorts.

“Can I ask why Canada Dry?” Tessa asks, sounding amused.

“Because I want to rub it in Shane Hollander's face that I got endorsement and he did not,” Ilya responds.

“Aren't you two friends?”

“What? Is healthy competition,” Ilya defends.

She shakes her head and smiles, “We've got a brief spot on a combined ad for Adidas with full North American runs so that's a good piece right there. And it should only be a half day of coverage so a good payout for a few hours of work. Now I am going to send you a few samples of a designer's work - they are not offering a lot but they are offering to make you the face of this collection which is a crazy offer. You know I don't believe in working for exposure, but they are paying at the top of their budget.”

“Okay, so tell them yes —”

“No, Ilya,” she says seriously, and he feels that if she were here she might pull at his ear, “look at the work. Don't just say yes to things, your face and your brand is yours. You build it, you protect it, I just put opportunities in front of you.”

Ilya appreciates Tessa, he does. And he knows that she is right. But also, the idea of cultivating his face and 'brand,' causes some level of dread. Because once upon a time when he had done that, it had been unhealthy. Trying to transform himself into the perfect athlete, the best in the field, an ingénue and a princess. It was a tightly held reign and had caused more grief in the end. He's concerned that if he is given control over these things again that he will begin to limit himself in similar ways again. However, perhaps it would be okay to just...look at the work. See if it is to his tastes and worthwhile.

“Okay,” he acquiesces. “When should I expect the samples?”

“They're just waiting for my word so sometime today,” she tells him, shuffling more papers, “now Adidas is in July. Other than that... Disney? Are you going openly or are you going to try to hide all six feet of you?”

“I do not think I could hide. And...it would make trip less fun for the girls who are part of the billet family. I want...I want it to be enjoyable and I do not think that is possible if I am trying to avoid recognition,” Ilya sighs.

He knows that there is some risk with that, but he is hoping that other people will be so focused on their vacations, they will not pay them much mind.

“Excellent,” she says, which is not what he expected though he also doesn't know what he did expect.

“Putting you in a completely new environment where people will see you, post you, tag you, that's going to be great,” she says, “but you'll have your guide and the park will take care of you not being mobbed. Send me the family's details and I'll make sure that everything is taken care of.”

“I said I would take care of it,” he huffs, “can you just help?”

“Ilya, this is me helping. I will let you take care of the financial part, this is just for reservations,” Tessa reassures him.

“I understand...it is just...I want to be part of making it special, which means doing the planning,” Ilya counters.

“Okay....how about this? I will get you connected with the VIP service. Do you know anything about which hotel you would want to stay at?”

He shakes his head. He knows about Mickey and the princesses (Harper likes Ariel and Sage likes Mulan) but that was about it.

“Alright, I'll send you options and you can choose what you think they would like best and I'll book it,” she says, “okay?”

Ilya nods.

“Okay,” he agrees, and does feel better about this particular route. The next couple of hours is dedicated to finalizing plans and getting reservations done. As the phone call comes to a wrap up, Tessa reminds him to check his mail soon for the samples. When the conversation ends, Ilya sends the information necessary to Allison.

And then, just about when he's sick of running through every channel on his television, the phone rings. He jumps at the sight and turns off the TV rather than muting it, “Hollander?”

“Heyyy,” he hears Shane's voice, “Rozyyyy.”

“Hollander, are you drunk?”

“S'part of best man job,” Shane mumbles, “I'm the best best man.”

“You have gotten drunk at Hayden Pike’s wedding and I am not there to see it?” Ilya asks. He does his best not to whine, though the irritation is back with full force.

“Had to,” Shane says and Ilya can picture his pout, “Jackie told me to. She's a brideeee.”

“She is,” he agrees, unable to help his own smile as he lays back on a couch and pulls a pillow up to his chest, “very lovely bride.”

“She is, she's so prettyyyyy,” Shane says and then as if it were a completely normal thing to share says, “I wish you were here.”

Ilya frowns and stares at the wall for a long minute. Tries not to make more of the comment than he should. Just because he has found himself too deep does not mean Shane is. Instead, he dismisses it as Shane being drunk.

“Yes, well, you did not take advantage of your plus one,” Ilya says, forcing himself to sound casual.

“I wanted to,” Shane says, and he sounds sleepy and honest. He's also very drunk.

“Hollander, someone can hear you,” he says softly.

“I'm home,” he says, “I mean not home. Bed.”

“You are in hotel room?”

“Yessss,” Shane says happily, “just in bed wishing you were here.”

Once again, Ilya’s imagination gifts him what could have been. He shuts it down quickly, because that is not what happened.

“It seems like you had a good time,” he says. Without me, his brain supplies.

“It was really fun,” Shane hums, “and so beautiful. Like, it's Hayden and Hayden is like not... um ...”

 “Smart?”

“Romantic! He's not like you know, I mean I don't really know, but he wrote something really pretty and he read it and he cried and then Jackie cried and I didn't cry but almost. And then Jackie said stuff too and then I did cry because yeah Hayden is kind of awesome. It was so soft. And then the party was fun - I mean, it was a lot, but it was fun. I wanted to dance with you but you weren't there,” he says all in a rush, “but I didn't dance on tables that is only for you.”

Ilya gives a slight huff of a laugh. He curls up into his chair and begins rubbing one of his legs.

“You still not have danced on table for me.”

“I know,” Shane mumbles, “but I'm not gonna do it for other people before I do it for you.”

“I am starting to believe you will never dance on table for me, Hollander,” he teases.

“Someday I will,” Shane says, “promise. Someday.”

“Mm, I will believe it when I see it, Hollander,” Ilya retorts. 

“Maybe next New Years. We could spend it together again,” Shane suggests.

“If that is what you want,” he says, even though his heart is trying to leave his chest at the thought of spending a third New Year with Shane.

“Duh,” is what Shane says, “we'll exchange gifts wrapped that morning. We'll eat dad's new Russian experiments, we'll pile on the couch and watch movies.”

“That sounds good, Hollander,” he murmurs even though what it sounds like is fantastic and more than he should hope for.

 “And we'll make wishes,” he says, clearly pleased with himself, “I love the wishes, they always work.”

Ilya wonders what wishes Shane has made. Knowing the other man, likely things to do with hockey. Which is probably why they always work. It has been mostly luck that Ilya's past two wishes have worked out. Because usually, in the past, his wishes rarely came true. For his father to be proud of him, to be the best figure skater in the world, for his mama to be happy. That last one had been a frequent wish. He stopped making it when he was twelve. 

“You must be very lucky, Shane Hollander,” is what he says instead.

“Mhmm I'm so lucky,” Shane agrees, “but I would be more lucky if you were here.”

Ilya wants so badly for Shane to say why he didn't just ask him, but he knows the answer. It was okay for them to be friends off the ice and rivals on it, but friends weren't plus ones.

Instead he makes a hum sound of acknowledgment.

“You will not feel so lucky in morning with hangover,” Ilya deflects. He cannot focus on the fact that he is not there but that Shane apparently wanted him there but did not tell him this until drunk. That would result in the conversation ending poorly.

“I have water,” Shane says, “what are you doing?”

 “Nothing.”

“Booo no. I'm boring, not you Rozy,” Shane whines, “I thought you were at a ... a party. Or a concert. Or...or with someone.”

“You think I am with someone and you call? So rude Hollander,” he says.

“You would be the rude one for picking up if you were there with someone,” Shane counters. Then he lets out a long sigh, “I just…I mean I thought you would just be doing something exciting.”

“And you called,” he insists.

“I want to be with you,” he says, so sincere and so earnest that it feels like a stab.

“I was not invited,” he says, trying to be gentle, trying to pull them both back from this conversation that Shane would never have sober.

“Next time,” Shane answers, “next time I'll bring you.”

“Next time? Jackie is ready for divorce already?”

“Noooo another wedding. Another time. Next time. We'll come together, we'll dance.”

Ilya highly doubts that this will happen. These are the ramblings of a drunk man. When Shane is sober, he would think about it and likely decide against it.

But he doesn’t want to bring down the mood, so he gives a simple, “Okay.”

“You look so good in suits,” Shane continues on, “so good getting out of suits...”

“You are drunk Hollander,” he says firmly, because he is, and Ilya isn't going to have phone sex or any kind of sex with someone drunk out of their minds.

“You're right...but we wouldn't have to even do anything. I just like watching you,” Shane mutters on the other end.

“That is creepy,” he smiles. 

“Nooo no it's...like just watching you. And sometimes you're asleep or just really relaxed. And your eyes are closed. And you're so fucking beautiful, Roz.”

Ilya hugs his knees closer to his body. Sometimes Shane’s earnestness practically kills him. He doesn’t know what to do with it and doesn't know how to fully trust it. Even if he wants to. He wants to respond that he does the same thing. That he counts Shane’s freckles and tries to find constellations in them. That his brown eyes are so warm and expressive. The way he smiles when he is genuinely relaxed.

“Still sounds a little creepy,” Ilya teases instead.

Shane however, doesn't seem deterred, “And then when I wake up before you and you're just like there all tucked into my arm. Your face is so smooshed and —”

“Hollander —”

“Feels so warm and good and I just wanna —”

“Shane —”

“So nice when you say my name. Just wanna wake up with you all the time,” he sighs softly as if he weren't killing Ilya with every word.

He has to remind himself that Shane is not in his right mind. He is drunk at a wedding. Of course his mind would go to such sentiments.

“That is hard to do when we are in NHL playing for different teams,” Ilya tells him.

“Yeah but summer,” Shane says, “you can come home to Ottawa and we can stay with my parents? It's a friendly thing cause we're friends. No one will know.”

“I think your parents might figure it out,” Ilya points out. 

“Yeaaaah...but my parents adore you,” Shane says. “And it will be fuuuuuun.”

“Maybe, Shane. Maybe,” Ilya answers.

Shane hums, clearly pleased, “Good.”

“Did you drink water?”

“Mmmno.”

“Go to the mini bar and get the water,” he directs.

“But —”

“Now,” he says firmly, “I want to hear you crack open expensive Evian, Hollander.”

“Why are we back to last names now,” Shane almost whines. But Ilya can hear the shuffling of him getting out of bed. A few minutes later, there is a crack of a water bottle opening.  “I'm drinking the stupid expensive Evian.”

“I'm using your last name because it's serious business,” Ilya tells him. “And good boy.”

Shane's breath stutters a bit which means that he still likes to be called that and that he isn't actually drinking.

“More,” he insists. Shane sighs but there is silence he can interpret as drinking and then he's back.

“Okay, done,” Shane says and because Shane loves saying true things Ilya doesn't doubt him.

“Okay,” he agrees, “now go to sleep.”

“Nooooo,” Shane complains. “I wanna keep talking to you. What are you doing?”

“Trying to convince my very drunk best friend to go to sleep,” Ilya responds, deadpan.

“What else?”

“Nothing Shane I was just laying here,” he says, which sounds pathetic but is true.

“That sounds like something I would do,” Shane mumbles. “Do you have any plans?”

“Looking over samples for a potential endorsement,” Ilya responds. 

“Samples of what?” It's such a normal boring question that he could almost believe Shane was sober if not for his adorable and ridiculous lilting voice.

“Fashion designs. Is new small designer, not big contract but he likes my face so,” he shrugs for no one to see.

“That's so cool. How are you so cool?” Shane asks. Though he doesn't seem to be expecting an answer as he continues, “I've never considered that you'd be into fashion.”

“Former figure skater,” Ilya reminds him. “Fashion is big part. And I like looking good.”

“You always look good,” Shane mutters, “can I see them too?”

“Maybe,” he sighs, “tomorrow. If you still want to.”

“Okay. I mean I don't know anything about fashion but... I wanna see em anyway.”

“You just want to imagine what I look like in them,” Ilya jokes.

“Yeah,” Shane sighs, much more genuinely.

 “Maybe I bring you to photoshoot,” he says, though that would be impossible. What good reason would Shane have to be there?

“Yesss please please please —”

“Okay if you go to sleep now I bring you to fashion shoot,” he offers.

He can see Shane's pout in his mind, “Not fair.”

“Completely fair,” Ilya argues. “You will be less grumpy in morning.” 

“Can you at least stay on the phone until I'm asleep?” Shane asks. How is Ilya supposed to say no to that?

He breathes in and out through his nostrils and sighs, “Okay.”

“Goodnight, Илья,” Shane says softly.

He takes the sound of it and tries to burn it into his mind.

“Goodnight Shane.”

He does stay on the phone until he can hear Shane's breathing even out. Trying not to imagine how he knows Shane looks like when sleep, he makes himself hang up.

He screams into his pillow but he only allows himself one good scream. Then he throws himself off the couch and goes to look at the samples. They're...abstract. Designs can be. He writes down a few questions for Tessa to pass on like what the idea behind the shoot will be. He thinks the pieces will look good on him because frankly most things do. It's down to what the photoshoot will actually entail. Then it's down to old history documentaries to lull him to sleep. He wakes to a text from Shane.

It's a screenshot of his call log and the words what the fuck did I talk about for 23 min when I was so drunk I can't remember how I got back in here?

Shane has forgotten all of it. Ilya swallows and wipes the sleep from his eyes. Good. That's good that he forgot it.

Ilya: Incomprehensible. I had to look this word up to describe. You said words that were English but were nonsense the whole time.

Jane: I just spoke nonsense at you for 23 minutes?

Ilya: It seemed mostly about wedding from what I could gather. 

He's not technically lying to Shane. They had talked about the wedding. Just not in the sense he hopes Shane believes they did.

Jane: okay well at least it wasn't anything bad

Ilya: you have dark secret you are hiding from me Hollander?

Jane: No 

Jane: I just...I didn't want to find out I said something embarrassing

Ilya: nothing I could understand... between sloppy drunk and english was no way

Jane: Okay...I hope I didn't interrupt anything important

Ilya: It is okay. Tessa sent endorsement things, so I looked over that.

Jane: Wait samples! I remember that! You said you would show me.

Ilya: yes

Jane: Okay so show me. I'm going to get dressed for breakfast but I want to see. Call you after?

Ilya: okay

Shane does indeed call him later, this time sending him a link for some video call. It is good to see his face, though he does look a little tired from the events of the previous night and his hair is not as neatly groomed as it usually is.

“Hi,” Shane greets.

“Holzy,” Ilya nods back.

“Okay...so...fashion samples? I can't say I'll have anything insightful, but I am excited,” Shane tells him. As promised, Ilya does show him some of the samples. His favorite ones out of the collection.

“Yeah, I have nothing useful to say but it looks like the kind of things you see on runways and not like the mall you know?”

“Couture,” Ilya tells him.

“Oh now look who speaks French,” Shane grins, “so are you going to say yes?”

“Yes, I think so,” he says looking down at his favorite sketch. The model drawn does kind of look like him.

“I can't wait to see,” Shane grins.

“Mmm maybe. If you are not at silent retreat,” he says.

“It's not a silent retreat it's just —”

“Boring retreat yes,” he rolls his eyes.

“Well...maybe not entirely boring. Apparently it's actually part of a bigger vacation,” Shane tells him.

“Bigger vacation?”

“Yes, apparently we're also going to be going to Japan,” Shane tells him.

“Japan like ... all of you?”

“Yes, mom tried to make it a surprise but then she got too excited,” he laughs, “but I'm glad she told me. There's stuff I've always thought about doing with her there like seeing where my grandparents were born. Seeing if maybe someone knew them or their families.”

“That would be good,” Ilya says. He is struck by an odd sense of envy in that moment. That Shane gets this opportunity to connect with his ancestry. That he both has his home in Canada but is now developing a more complex concept of where he belongs in the world. Since leaving Russia, Ilya has not been able to have that. Outside of when he visits neighborhoods like Newton or Brookline, but even then that is not the same.

“Yeah, I'm...I'm nervous but excited,” he says.

“Nervous why?” 

“It always feels kind of weird to be like...this guy for other Asian kids to look up to but I don't really know that much about that part of myself.”

Ilya nods. He supposes that would be difficult. Sometimes Ilya never stops to think about the potential pressures that his friend must be facing as a 'face for diversity' in the NHL. Especially when his friend likely connects more with his Canadian roots than his Japanese roots.

“So this is good chance to just learn,” Ilya muses, “You must go to Nara, though. You can feed deer.”

“Oh, like...in the wild?”

“I send you link yes? Also you must take Yuna to fancy tea places. I will send more links,” he says because now that he thinks about it he has lots of suggestions.

“Roz, I think you missed your calling as a travel agent,” Shane jokes when he receives the links, looking over them with a smile.

“I just do not want to ask you what you do in Japan and then you give boring answers,” Ilya responds. He doesn't mention how he likes the idea of ensuring the enjoyment of the people he cares about. It's the same feeling he got when he was planning the Disney trip yesterday.

“Alright, I gotta go get ready to drive Hayden and Jackie to the airport, talk to you later?”

“Yes,” he nods, “bye Hollander.”

Shane frowns lightly, “There's no one here.”

It takes him a moment to realize what he's saying. He lifts the corner of his lips, “Goodbye, Shane.”

“Goodbye, Ilya,” Shane responds with a warm smile and then the call ends.

Ilya flops back on his couch. He's mostly just waiting for a response from Tessa regarding the collection and shoot. He looks back over the designs, focusing in on one of them. It's the most androgynous of the pieces and very eye-catching. It's perhaps his favorite. However, it is the one he is the most anxious about. Ilya is concerned that if he wears something this androgynous, people will start to make connections. What if because it rides that line between masculine and feminine, someone will be able to identify him?

It feels counterintuitive after he's worked so hard to be seen as himself, to give anyone an inch by which to try to drag him back into the life that made no sense to him feels like handing the public a knife meant for his throat. And yet ... he liked the clothes.

Besides, he has been told that it is the person who makes the clothes. So...it is likely that even with how they look, depending on how Ilya carries himself, it will not even matter.

And yeah the team is going to make fun about it the way the team makes fun of all ads that the sponsored players are in. He breathes through it and emails Tessa that yes, he'll do the shoot.

He needs to put his trust into Tessa. He doesn't think she would put him into a situation that is unsafe. If she had even considered it, it is likely a good idea in the end. And besides, he would be the only person in the NFL to have an entire collection he would be the face of. Take that Mr. Hugo Boss Scott Hunter.

Despite his plans for work and the vacation the Wiebes have officially accepted, his day ahead looks dull. He bites his lip and acknowledges the craving he's been feeling for the past few weeks and digs out his skates. He keeps them sharpened but mostly hidden away. He wants to know today if he can still do a double axel.

Making his way out to the polyglide rink again, he takes down the goal and puts it away into storage. Lacing up his boots, he can feel a slight thrill of excitement. He always enjoys skating, whether it was for figure skating or hockey. Sometimes he thinks his home is out on the ice. He decides to skate around the rink first. Just get a sense of the feeling again. Then he starts picking up momentum, attempting to go into the jump. He takes off, making it around the number of rotations. However, when he lands, he has to step out of it to maintain his balance. Fuck, that is frustrating. But…he’s just warming up.

Music, he needs music. Allison used to say training without music is like learning to drive with no shoes on. Sometimes necessary but awkward and not helpful. He finds a playlist, decidedly nothing that was in his old routines, and tries not to over think.

He lets his body follow along with the music. To get back into it, he practices potential step sequences, skating around the rink. It is when the music starts towards its first crescendo that he tries again.

This time he lands smooth and clean and he feels that thrill, that jump in his stomach that tells him he cannot calculate a score and keep skating but that it was high and that he was good.

Grinning, he continues. Feeling empowered, he tries some different jumps. Salchow, toe loop, lutz. All of them double for now. Still it feels good every time he successfully lands.

This time when he finishes and puts away his boots he doesn't bury them in the back of his closet like a skeleton. He sets them right beside his regular practice skates.

The rest of the day finds him flying high with his invigoration. Enough that even Tessa comments on it when she does call to give him updates regarding ads and endorsements and about the photo shoot. Ilya finds himself excited for the shoot and apparently the designers are thrilled that he has said yes. Apparently, it is set up before his trip with the Wiebes.

He considers what he remembers of their conversation last night, what only he remembers. Could he get away with his rival-friend Shane accompanying him to a photoshoot.

He thinks it should be okay, that he and Shane could come up with a reasonable excuse as to why he’s there. They are friends. They should be allowed to just hang out during the summer, right? He would just have to make sure Shane is in town. He’s not entirely certain when the Japan trip is.

He shoots out a text to him with the date and place of the shoot and a question mark and decidedly does not look at his phone while he eats dinner and watches a reality show that he will never admit to Shane he has been keeping up with since they saw it together one night.

It is only after the show is finished, feeling about as irritated at the judges as he feels about ice dance, when he checks. Shane has given an affirmative and has written, This is exciting, I get to see a shoot without being the focus!

Ilya is grinning like a fucking idiot about it. He sends Tessa a message telling her Shane will come with them to the shoot. Then he texts Shane again. I will be diva supermodel, you will be fetching me coffee. 

Shane immediately shoots back with a, Looking forward to it. He even adds a smiley face for once in his life and Ilya thinks his grin grows impossibly bigger.

Tessa insists on picking him on the day of the shoot. He thinks he understands very well why Yuna Hollander suggested Tessa, who has no children herself and yet is very momager. Momager energy.

“I let the team know that Shane was part of your people for the day,” she says, “so he can just show up whenever.”

“He will be there before us,” Ilya tells her, “Hollander thinks on time is late.”

“I mean, granted what I know of Yuna Hollander, I wouldn't expect any less,” Tessa smiles.

They get there a few minutes early. And sure enough, Shane is already waiting for them when they walk in.

“Roz!”

“Hollander,” Ilya smiles. It grows even wider (and perhaps fonder) at the coffee that Shane holds out to him.

He takes the coffee and maybe he shouldn't but he hugs him tight with his free arm, pulls him close and tries very hard not to linger.

“Missed you,” Shane whispers.

“Me too,” he whispers back before pulling away.

“Tessa, I am sure you know Shane Hollander. Shane Hollander, this is agent Tessa,” Ilya does the proper introductions.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Tessa,” Shane says, with a boyish smile.

“Nice to meet you too, Shane. Ilya, I'm going to get you checked in and let the team know that you're here,” Tessa tells him.

Shane pokes at his shirt, “This is what you're wearing?”

“They have all the fancy clothes inside, why would I bring my own,” Ilya says poking at Shane's own, “you look like you are on jog.”

“I'm not the model,” Shane says, “So... off to get made up then?”

“You are my people today, you come with me and hold fan while I get painted,” he says, pushing him lightly toward the venue.

“I knew this invite was too good to be true,” Shane jokes.

“I told you I would be diva. You knew what would be happening, Shane Hollander,” Ilya easily retorts, leading him inside. “By the way, thank you for coffee.

“It's how you like it?” 

“Yes,” he says, “very good.”

Shane gives him that pleased small smile as they walk in. It isn't Ilya's first photo shoot and it certainly isn't Shane's so they both find their way very easily towards the dressing room and introduce themselves to the make-up team.

Ilya is quickly swept up into their seat. The main artist, Rae, started with his foundation. While they begin the process, they explain that they have been working with one of the main designers for a long time. And how happy they are about having someone willing to model for them.

“Like no offense but I had no idea who you were,” they laugh, “it's just Cristian grew up with hockey and he kept sketching you into everything and then was like what the hell, nothing lost if we ask right? And you said yes! So happy for him - and I've never worked with an athlete before! Is this your first photoshoot?” 

Ilya shakes his head, “No. Tessa keeps me busy.”

“And we do a lot of promo for the league and our teams,” Shane adds. 

“Oh you play too?”

Shane grins, bright and so so happy, “Yeah. Yeah a little bit.”

“Please, little bit,” Ilya rolls his eyes. He gets a little cluck from Rae and he apologizes. “Hollander, here is Rookie of Year for NHL.” 

“That's cool. I'm guessing that's really impressive,” Rae says.

“Yeah, a little bit,” Ilya says, teasing and sarcastic. 

“Sorry if I'm super ignorant about who you are,” Rae says looking not sorry at all, “I love that Cristian loves sports, we all need a hobby, but like I'm usually on Instagram while he watches.”

“I think it's refreshing,” Shane says, his arms crossed comfortably as he watches Rae work on Ilya's cheeks, “we spend way too much time around people who know everything about us.”

“Not everything,” Ilya says, enjoying the feel of the brushes against his skin.

He sees Shane get a little uncomfortable, crossing his arms a little tighter and ducking his head a little. But he takes in Rae, and seems to consider it.

“Yeah...not everything, I guess.”

“Like...press and fans only see one side of us,” Ilya continues. “But it is not like they know things like...favorite color or hobbies.”

Rae hums and nods, “Well you're nice and beautiful men. That's all I know.”

Shane blushes and Ilya grins, making Rae tap his cheeks because he's messing up their lines.

“Don't preen while I work,” they say, squinting at his face.

“I don't think he knows how not to,” Shane chirps. 

“He is just jealous I am the more pretty one now,” Ilya immediately lobs back

“You need your ego checked,” Rae tuts, “have you seen those freckles?” 

“Oh I have seen the freckles,” Ilya says before he can realize what he's saying.

“Oh my god, you are so adorable. You're blushing,” Rae kindly teases him.

“I am not. Russians do not do this,” Ilya immediately denies. Shane is staring at him with wide eyes, his gaze darting between Ilya and Rae. It looks like he is on the verge of panic. 

“Hollander I am thirsty,” he says, “Coke, please.”

“You can't have a Coke it'll screw up your skin and my work,” Rae says, “he can have some coconut water.”

“Yeah,” Shane nods, “yeah I'll go get some.”

He watches Shane leave, hoping he'll be okay. Maybe getting the coconut water will give him enough time to calm down his brain. Or help him realize that this building is likely full of people who will not care or think less of him for having sex with Ilya.

“You okay honey? You look like you went off to space there,” Rae says as they look at him with a tilted head and a palate of colors on their hand.

“Yes,” he says and tries to come back from the alley of worry he's headed down. Maybe Shane is calling an Uber and leaving and deciding they can't be friends anymore because everyone will know.

“Hey,” Rae says softly as they brush some color across his cheekbones. “He's gonna come back. Maybe he got a little spooked, I don't know...but I don't think that boy's gonna abandon you.”

Ilya gives them a small nod, “Fuck sorry. Hard not to move.” 

“It's okay,” they say gently, “and I'm sorry if I stepped in it. I didn't realize it was like that.” 

“Like what?”

Rae scrunches their nose, “What?” 

“What is like what?”

“Oh! Um,” they step back, brush held aloft, “You know... like... fuck never mind.”

Getting the feeling that Rae has absolutely caught on to something between him and Shane, he says, “It is complicated.”

“It always is,” Rae sighs.

Rae continues working on him in silence before Ilya speaks again, “Is complicated between you and...”

“Cristian? Yes. No, not anymore, but it was. He was all like - it took so long to be out as a gay man and now I'm in love with someone who has boobs. And that's you know... it's fair that he felt complicated about it. I felt complicated about it too, always do. Like... you just want to be someone but you're just this wrench in their well crafted idea of who they are,” they say, which is a lot of English but Ilya thinks he does actually absolutely understand.

He lets out a small hum. Part of him wants to tell Rae. They seem...kind. But he doesn't really know this person. And it is already difficult to acknowledge it himself sometimes, let alone say the words out loud to anyone else.

“That...does sound difficult,” Ilya says, keeping his eyes on a fixed point beyond Rae's shoulder.

He feels their hand squeeze his shoulder and then tap his chin so they can continue to paint.

“I'm going to go look for some swatches so I can get this just right,” they say, “don't touch your face I haven't set you.” He nods and looks at himself in the mirror. It's really not too much, not yet anyway, he knows they aren't finished.

He sees in the reflection when Shane walks back in holding a bottle of coconut water.

“Hey - sorry it was on the other side of the building,” he says, setting the bottle beside Ilya and then finding a seat near the corner of the room, “are you all done?”

“Not yet, almost,” he says, and hopes that Shane hasn't made any decisions about ending everything because someone has very obviously noticed them. Maybe Shane can't tell, maybe he just got flustered.

“The, uh, the look that they're doing,” Shane says, gesturing to his own face. “It looks pretty cool so far.”

“Mm, Rae seems to know what they are doing,” Ilya says.

“Where are they?” Shane asks, his eyes looking around the room.

“Getting swatches.”

“Oh,” Shane nods. There is a long silence, and he seems to be worrying at his lip a little bit. Here it comes, “...do you really pay that much attention to my freckles?”

...What? That was not the question he expected. He turns his head just enough and narrows his eyes at Shane, trying to make sense of the other man.

“Your freckles,” he says.

 “Yes? Rae said and then... then you said —”

 “You do not know what your freckles do to me?”

 Shane's eyes go wide and he looks back to the doorway as if someone was going to appear from thin air.

“So you like them?” 

Ilya rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”

He doesn't say that they were perhaps the first thing that Ilya had noticed. How they were practically burned into his retinas.

“Oh. I...I didn't actually know that,” Shane says.

“Well, now you do,” Ilya retorts. 

“...I don't like my freckles,” Shane admits.

That makes him whip his whole body around and spin his chair.

“WHAT?”

Shane is hugging himself again, “It's like dirt I can't scrub off. I have really good skin but the freaking freckles...”

“Do not ever insult freckles in front of me, Shane,” he warns.

Shane blinks at him in surprise. “They're just freckles,” he argues. “And they're my freckles.”

“Yes, they are your freckles. And they are like...constellation across your body” Ilya tells him.

Shane blushes deep and everywhere turning into Strawberry Shane, one of Ilya's favorite flavors of Shane.

“Okay I had to literally pry this off Cristian's hands because I guess he wants me to just work off vibes,” Rae sighs as they come in, “but I got them. I think a navy with a light dusting of glitter will be a nice neutral for these colors and textures. Going for a starry sky kind of look.”

Ilya's eyes are still decidedly on Strawberry Shane.

“Okay.”

Rae's eyes dart between Ilya and Shane for a long moment before smiling and shrugging.

“Alright, so, back in the chair you go, Ilya.”

He does as requested, because Rae is just trying to do their job. Shane does eventually come closer to watch the process.

“So, Shane, you said you've done some ads and such. Any fashion lines?”

 “Uh just Rolex and Reebok,” he says.

 “Just Rolex and Reebok? Jesus you two are rich rich, aren't you? How did we even afford you?”

“Is under rate,” Ilya shrugs, “but good opening for new market.” 

“And you have a good agent,” Rae laughs.

“She is almost the best,” Ilya agrees, “but the very best is Yuna Hollander.”

“I'm guessing that's your mom,” Rae asks, pointing their brush at Shane. 

“Yuna Hollander is his momager. And she is excellent at both,” Ilya answers.

“Does your agent know that you think my mom is better than her?” Shane asks, looking bemused.

“Yes, world must know how great Yuna Hollander is,” Ilya retorts.

“Also Tessa agrees,” Ilya adds. “She is amazing but we live in Yuna Hollander's world.” 

“I'm texting her that right now,” Shane says as he pulls out his phone, “can I send her a pic of this?” He motions to the general make up chair process.

“Mm, I don’t see the problem with that,” Rae says. Shane takes a picture of Ilya in the makeup chair, getting basically painted. Then he seems to quickly type out a message to his mom.

He looks down at his phone and smiles and then up at Ilya and smiles wider.

“I thought navy eye makeup would be like... more intense?”

“I know what I'm doing,” Rae smiles back, “okay you're done, let me spray some finishing on you.”

“Okay,” Ilya agrees. He closes his eyes as Rae sprays him with what they call ‘setting spray.’

“Alright, handsome. What do you think?” Rae asks.

 Ilya can see the inspiration of the starry sky. Glitter flecks across his cheeks like freckles. The dark navy reminds him of the sky at dusk. He finds he likes it and that he still looks very masculine.

Then his eyes shift over to Shane and he sees the absolute want in his dilated pupils and he grins, “I love it, thank you Rae.”

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

Shane needs to practice meditating in real time, it'll be useful to not pass out when Ilya comes out of the dressing area wearing what he's wearing, looking the way he's looking in a warehouse with eight other people.

The designs that Ilya showed him do not do the real thing justice. Especially now with Ilya wearing them. Ilya looks like the concept of the night sky come to life. A primordial god who has decided to deign mortals with his presence. Ethereal and mysterious and beautiful in their androgyny.

From behind him, a bottle of coconut water materializes along with Rae's soft voice, “Drink this honey you're going to drop like a stone if you don't inhale.” He swallows and takes the bottle, gulping like he's just finished a run. He should be more worried that Rae seems to know but he simply does not have the bandwidth for that right now. The designer — Cristian — is adjusting the fabric over Ilya's chest, speaking to him quietly. Shane isn't sure if he's turned on or pissed off about it. Both probably.

It is when Cristian is done with his alterations, that Ilya turns to Shane. He holds his arms out akimbo, showing off the outfit. “What do you think, Hollander?” Shane thinks he’s going to pass out. He thinks all the blood in his body has either travelled to his head or went south.

“G-Good,” he manages to strangle out.

Ilya raises his eyebrows which are like...darkened or gelled or Shane has no idea what Rae did but they're even more expressive than usual.

 He swallows, “Looks...looks really good Rozy.”

A wide, shark-like grin crosses Ilya’s face. It looks dangerous and, combined with this current look, is also perhaps the sexiest thing Shane has seen. Like he knows exactly what this is doing to Shane. He probably does.

“It seems you get the Shane Hollander seal of approval, Cristian,” Ilya tells the designer.

The designer says something or other Shane isn't really listening because now the photographer is making everyone stand back and give her room to work. Shane feels a little like he's in a trance.

He cannot keep his eyes off of Ilya. The way his body moves as he poses as the photographer wants. It is at this moment that Shane can imagine Ilya as a figure skater. There’s almost a dancer-like quality to him.

That only increases with what Cristian says is the last of the designs they have prepared, it's the one that Ilya had told him was his favorite. He doesn't have the words for what the fabric does as it drapes over his shoulder and cascades down the length of his height — he looks godly. Ilya seems to come alive with this particular garment. It looks like he’s having the most fun being photographed in it, a calm confidence that speaks nothing of his usual peacocking.

It's like his whole posture changes and he becomes not someone else but different, there's just a whole other energy to him and the way he holds himself. Shane wants to melt under it, under him.

“Okay that's been beautiful all the way through,” the photographer says looking down at her shots in the camera, “I've got everything I need.”

 Ilya grins, “Can I see?” He asks.

 “Sure!” The photographer says, and leans their camera lens toward Ilya. “That one turned out really good. Do you want to show your friend?”

“Davai. Shane! Come see how hot I am!” Ilya calls over. Oh…oh, Ilya is trying to kill him.

Shane swallows and walks closer, keeping a safe distance from the camera as if it might bite him. But he can see it, he can see the way the light and shadow plays on each shot over Ilya's face and body and his skin. He's genuinely dizzy. 

“They're great,” he manages.

“They are better than great. Work of art,” Ilya compliments the photographer.

“Charmer,” the photographer retorts, looking more amused than anything. “I’m going to show these to Cristian and then he’s probably gonna want to wrap things up by talking with you and Tessa.”

A production assistant ushers Ilya away back to a dressing room probably to get him out of the beautiful expensive clothes. I can afford that, he thinks we can just take it home.

It is half an hour before Ilya comes back. His face has been washed of make up, but his curls are still slicked back. He’s also back in his usual Adidas sportswear.

“Tessa is finishing talking to Cristian. Finalizing contract things,” Ilya says. “What did you think, Hollander?”

Tessa comes out before Shane can answer which makes him a big fan because he doesn't think he can answer what he thinks in English or French right now.

“Alright we're all set,” she says with a clap, “are you ready to go superstar?”

Ilya's eyes have not turned to Tessa; they are drilling into Shane's face.

“Hollander is going to take me home in rental car, right?”

Shane nods, head completely free of thoughts and happy with instructions, “Yes.”

Shane can see Tessa’s eyes flick between them for a second.

Then she gives a smile and nods, “Sounds like a plan. I’ll call you later, Ilya. Have a good day you two.”

 “You are ready to go, Hollander?” Ilya asks.

 “Yeah, yeah,” Shane nods. “Um, this way.”

They make it back to the car — small, easy to parallel park on Boston streets — when Ilya takes the keys from him.

 “I will drive,” he smirks.

Shane can only nod. Part of him thinks he should argue since it’s under his name. But he doesn’t think he can focus on the road to drive anywhere. Ilya gets behind the wheel, Shane taking the passenger. They quickly take off from the parking lot. Maybe Shane could have used this opportunity to take in Boston. See what’s changed. But his focus is still back on Ilya and how he looked during the photo shoot. In what feels like a blink, they are pulling up to a house. Ilya’s house.

His mom was always saying how Ilya's house was beautiful and too big, how he should get a dog or something to fill up all that space. His mom worried a lot about Ilya, alone in Boston. Shane didn't worry so much as wonder, wonder who Ilya spent his time with when he wasn't with Shane and then reprimand himself for being ... what. Jealous? Possessive?

“You will live in car or you are getting out?”

Shane blinks and sees that Ilya is already out of the car. In fact, he has opened Shane’s door and is standing in the opening.

“Oh, right…sorry,” Shane apologizes and gets out of the car. Ilya barely moves to give him the space. Ilya leads him up to the front door and punches in the keycode, welcoming Shane into his house.

His stuff is still in the back of the rental car but he just wants to be in Ilya's house, in his space, he can grab the weekender bag full of too many shirts later.

“You are distracted Holzy,” Ilya says as he pushes him gently down the hallway, “where has your mind gone?”

“Do you know how you looked at that photoshoot?” Shane asks.

“Yes, incredible,” Ilya responds easily with his usual confidence. “You are thinking of it?”

“You don’t get it,” Shane tells him.

“Then explain. Use your words, Shane,” Ilya tells him.

He shouldn't have to explain, how can he possibly? He's not a poet or a singer or any of the sort of people that could put into words how beautiful Ilya is.

Instead, he does the only thing that has really been in his mind since that photoshoot started. He pushes Ilya back against the wall and kisses him. Ilya makes a sound of surprise, but kisses him back. Their lips are not connected for long as Shane kisses Ilya’s jaw and neck, then goes down onto his knees. Ilya watches him, his expression intense. 

Ilya grabs his chin, tilting his head back and making Shane shiver.

“You will not get out of using words by making your tongue busy, Hollander,” he says even though his breathing has picked up, “now speak.”

“You were just…wow. I don’t have the right words because you left me breathless and speechless,” Shane tells him. Doesn’t think it would make much sense if he tried to explain everything he thought and felt to Ilya.

“So I looked pretty,” he muses.

“No, Ilya, fuck you looked beautiful, you looked like more than the words in my brain can put together,” he tries to explain, “and it wasn't like - I mean the clothes and the make up it was nice but it was the way you stood and... “

 “And?”

“I don't know,” he hears himself whining and he knows it's pathetic, “I don't know how to talk about it. Let me show you please.”

“Okay, okay,” Ilya finally agrees. “Show me what effect I had on you.”

Shane lets out a breath and pulls up Ilya’s shirt. He presses kisses to the skin he can reach, worshipping his body, while unfastening the buttons of his jeans.

Ilya maneuvers them to a couch that is close enough and Shane does his very best, which is quite good if he lets himself believe Ilya's praise, to show him how beautiful he looked. When they're both sweaty and tired and sated Shane realizes there's still some residual glitter on Ilya's eyelids and that he does have some words.

“You looked like the night sky came alive,” Shane states.

“Very ethereal and god-like. The most astounding thing I’d ever seen and I was probably the hardest I’ve ever been because somehow someone as gorgeous as that wants to share a bed with me and be in my life and likes my freckles.”

Ilya looks at him, his eyes look dark and focused and kind of intense. Shane thinks that it's probably too much. Even though Ilya insisted and he knows how much Shane wants him all the time and they are best friends...it's still too much. More than Ilya wants from Shane who is just his friend who he fucks sometimes.

Shane opens his mouth to backtrack, to cover. Find some way to play it off, because he doesn’t want this to end. However, Ilya’s hands cup both sides of his face and he is brought down for another kiss. This one is not hurried, but there’s meaning to it.

It's like Ilya is trying to say something with his lips but not his voice. Shane pulls away so he can look at him but Ilya chases after his lips.

“Ilya...”

“No shh that was good words, you did so good,” Ilya murmurs.

“Really?” Shane asks. He can’t help but wonder if Ilya is telling him this because that’s how he feels or because he’s just trying to reassure Shane. Ilya makes that annoyed sound whenever anyone asks that. He pulls back to look at Shane.

“Yes, really,” Ilya responds. He presses kisses to Shane’s neck. Quietly he adds, not looking at Shane, “Nicest thing anyone has ever said.”

“So everyone else has been worse at words than me?”

Ilya noses at his neck, “No they... they did not... you are earnest, Shane. Everything is true with you.”

“...So...others just...don't say these kinds of things to you?” Shane asks.

He highly doubts that. Ilya is handsome and charming and, despite his reputation, caring. Surely others have seen this. Ilya huffs against Shane's neck. 

“Others say nice things because is way to get into pants. 'How sexy.' 'How handsome.' You...you just say things and mean them.”

“But you are sexy and handsome,” Shane frowns, “and fucking smart and sweet and hilarious...”

Ilya kisses him again, though this time he does meet Shane's eyes. “These last few things did not matter much to them. Was just a person to have sex with.”

Shane feels devastated by the way Ilya says that, like it doesn't matter that people saw him that way. Like it was true.

“...But those things do matter,” Shane says quietly. “They're part of who you are. What make you you.”

“And that is why your words were good. Because you believe these things. It is...nice,” Ilya tells him.

He leans up and pulls Ilya along with him before climbing onto his lap. He needs Ilya to listen to him, to understand.

“I believe them because they're true, Ilya,” he says, holding the other man's face between his hands, “even if we weren't... even if you were my best friend without benefits, it would still be true.”

Ilya's eyes flicker across his face. His mouth is set. Then, the corners quirk up just slightly and his hazel eyes are warm.

“Earnest,” he repeats again.

Shane runs his thumb over Ilya's bottom lip, “Honest.”

“Too honest,” Ilya says but he doesn't look like it's unpleasant, “can I fuck you now please?”

“Mmm,” Shane pretends to consider the proposal, “if you can take me to your bed without making me get up.”

Ilya immediately rises to the challenge. He grins and places his arms under Shane’s thighs. Then, in a single movement, he stands and picks Shane up with him. Shane lets out a sound of shock and immediately links his legs behind Ilya’s back for stability.

 “Holy shit,” he breathes.

“You think this is difficult, Hollander? Maybe you need more weight training, yes?” He teases him the entire way to the bedroom while dropping kisses on whichever part of Shane's skin he could reach.

“I do plenty of weight training! I just…I didn’t think it would be easy for you,” Shane retorts.

 “Well, I am very strong,” Ilya tells him.

He drops Shane on the bed and he bounces a bit ungracefully, but he is too consumed by wanting Ilya to mind. He pushes himself back on the pillows and splays his legs, trying to look more enticing than needy. But after seeing Ilya at the shoot today he thinks he'll always feel like an awkward idiot next to him.

Ilya grins and climbs on top of him. He first presses kisses to Shane’s cheeks, then down to his shoulders. It takes Shane a moment to realize Ilya is paying attention to the freckled areas of his skin.

He's at best ignored them and at worst hated them. Neither of his parents had freckles but they showed up on him everywhere. Ilya though, he seems to be obsessed with them. What had he called them? Constellations.

The thought warms Shane, making his heart flutter. Briefly, he wonders if Ilya has ever said these things to others. But, then he thinks that if he had, others would have seen Ilya for more than just sex. Though, what would that mean then if only Shane has been given these sweet words?

But then Ilya is much lower than he expected him to be and lifting his legs over his shoulders and thoughts are too much too difficult to grasp for what it feels like to be wanted and held and taken and fucked by this man who is too beautiful for words.

It feels like an eternity and also just a moment. Soon, he is coming down from his orgasm, curled up against Ilya who is washing him off with a damp cloth.

Ilya always takes care of him, whether he's shaking after being taken apart or nervous about something he said in an interview, or frustrated with how he's been playing. Ilya is there to soothe him, look after him, hold him. Shane wonders if Ilya feels as safe with him as he makes Shane feel.

He certainly hopes he does. Since that first day, Shane has thought that Ilya deserves good things. And Shane wants to give those things to him. He wants to make Ilya feel warm and safe and supported and welcomed. He wants to be the person Ilya leans on when he needs to.

They spend the rest of the evening going from the bed to the living room, from being wrapped up in each other to playing video games next to each other. Ilya makes him lunch and Shane tries not to think too much of the fact that he has ginger ale there. Eventually, deep at night, they go back to bed and stay there, this time slow and drawn out. He doesn't even realize he's falling asleep when the morning light wakes him. He loves waking up with Ilya, he wants to wake up with him all the time.

Shane realizes that these thoughts aren’t entirely platonic. Which scares him on some level because he doesn’t know what it means for him. Hockey is Shane’s entire life and having non-platonic feelings for another guy—especially one from a rival team—would not be received well. It’s entirely likely that they would want nothing to do with Shane if they figured out that he was involved with Ilya. Worse, he doesn’t even know if Ilya feels the same way. Sometimes he wonders. Some of the things he says, or his reactions to Shane’s honesty, or even the ginger ale. It’s obvious that Ilya cares for him. But…does he feel Shane’s absence like an ache in the way Shane does for him?

And then there is hockey for him too - hockey and the way that Ilya works harder than anyone to be the kind of man this sport expects. If anyone found out about them and whatever this is between them, would it lead them to find out about Ilya? Like a bucket of water he remembers their first few times together, the way that Ilya would promise so fervently that he would never tell - never put Shane in danger. He meant more than their careers, he meant his life.

He lies there thinking for a while, watching Ilya. The way that his lashes cast shadows across his golden skin, the slight stubble around his jaw and most importantly, the relaxation on his face. As much as Ilya wants to protect Shane, Shane wants to protect him.

“…Why are you thinking so early in morning?” Ilya mumbles at him, eyes closed.

“How do you know I’m thinking? You’re not even awake,” Shane points out. He cannot help the way his lips pull up in a fond smile. 

“Can hear gears, smell smoke,” Ilya says.

He hums, but doesn't admit anything.

 “Well?”

“Just thinking about my flight tonight,” he says, “wish I could stay longer.”

“But your vacation,” Ilya murmurs.

“I know. And I'm excited about it. Just...wish we had a little longer,” he whispers. Ilya lets out a small hum. Shane cannot tell if it is in agreement or if he’s simply placating.

“What time is flight?”

“Uh…about 6?” Shane answers.

“Then we spend day together, then I drop you off at airport. Then you will text me all cool stuff you are doing and I will annoy you with my updates,” Ilya says. “And then when you are home, I visit you and other Hollanders and collect my gift.”

“You make it sound simple,” Shane smiles.

“It is simple. You will have fun and we will see each other again,” he says, finally opening his eyes, “what's not simple?”

Being separated by 14 hours for 2 weeks, is the first thing that comes to Shane’s mind. But that does sound desperate and clingy. He needs to get a hold of himself. He spent months out of the year without having Ilya right there and he was fine. Counting down the days until the next match, sure, but fine.

He tries to enjoy the day, to not feel like he's saying goodbye the entire time, but it's hard. They have sex twice more but it's still soft and simple and ...sweet. Shane keeps wondering if his ridiculous feelings are obvious and if Ilya feels anything close to the same.

There is practically a vice around his chest by the time they’re at the airport. They’ve dropped off the rental car, with Ilya planning to take a rideshare or taxi home. In a fit of madness, Shane wants to invite Ilya on this trip. Convince him to get a ticket and just come along. But that would be too much. As would be a goodbye kiss. Instead, Shane pulls Ilya into a hug. “I promise to send lots of pictures and we can figure out the time difference so that I can call.” He feels Ilya chuckle slightly.

“You are acting like you are going to war,” he teases. But when Shane pulls back, he does think he can see some water in Ilya’s eyes. “Enjoy your vacation, Holzy. Do not worry about me.”

Shane nods and swallows the lump in his throat and walks forward toward the doors trying not to look back and embarrass himself. He just needs to look toward what's next. His parents will meet him in Toronto with his bags and they'll have an amazing couple of weeks together and his heart is not going to break about this, he won't let it.

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

Ilya comes to the conclusion that Shane Hollander will be the death of him. Especially when he feels like Shane has just walked off with a part of him. And definitely because he’s starting to realize that maybe Shane is far more invested than he could have imagined. Even if such a thing would be a complete disaster. None of that stops him from wishing he could have given Shane a goodbye kiss or even, more wildly, kept him hidden in his bedroom, convincing him that he doesn’t need to go on vacation.

But this isn't any vacation - it is important to Shane and it is important to Yuna, who in some sense is going home. Ilya, who has very much made choice after choice that means he can never go home, can understand how important that is. He thinks, wildly, of Shane's grandparents - a man and woman with Yuna and Shane's beautiful features that Ilya will never meet. They also never got to go home. Maybe someday, Ilya's child will take a trip to Russia and remember their father who never went back.

Instead, he will content himself with getting updates from Shane and trying to find time to talk to him. Not to mention, he has his own vacation to enjoy with the Wiebes, which he should honestly start packing for. Then, they will both come home and spend time together in the Hollander’s house before the new season begins.

Ilya exits the baggage claim area in Miami in a bit of a preoccupied haze, it isn't his first time here but it is loud and busy and disorganized in a way that is wholly unique from Logan airport. he's just trying to balance his phone out to text Allison when he sees two little girls jumping on either side of a posterboard with drawings of people and mickey mouse and maybe a dinosaur.

He grins upon seeing them and makes his way to them.

“Well, what a delightful welcoming party,” he says as he comes up to them.

“Ilya!” They cry excited. Their poster board is immediately pushed into their father’s hands and they tackle both of him in a hug. They only come up to his hip.

“Hello, Harper. Hello Sage,” he greets, and ruffles both of their heads.

Harper jumps, clapping her hands, “We're going to see Mickey!”

“Oh yeah? Who is that?”

“Mickey Mouse, Ilya!”

“Ah yes I have heard of this mouse,” he hums, “you are excited?”

Sage squeals and does a twirl, “Yes!”

Allison comes up behind them, her smile as warm as always.

“Ilyushka,” she greets. Ilya smiles back and immediately goes in for a hug.

“Allison Wiebe. It is good to see you.” He is taller than her now, which throws him off quite a bit. But the hug is the same.

“Rozanov,” her husband greets, “good to see you.”

“You too, Wiebe,” he says, clapping a hand on his back. Their pickup should already be waiting for them, a too large black SUV comfortable enough for all of them.

Ilya climbs into the backseat with the two girls. They excitedly tell him everything that their little minds can come up with. A lot of it comes back to what they want to do while at Disney.

“Are you two going to dress up?” Ilya asks. In his research, he saw videos of little girls dressed up as princesses.

“Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique!” the girls screamed in sync. Wiebe looked like he had thoughts about this that he was keeping to himself.

“I said maybe girls,” Allison says, “we'll see.”

The chatter continues as they get to their hotel, the Grand Floridian, which has the girls gasping in excitement. Allison shoots Ilya a look, and he holds his hands up in mock defense. Check in is fairly simple, the Wiebes getting a room to themselves and Ilya his own separate room.

They've decided to have dinner with a view of the fireworks tonight and start fresh with the parks tomorrow so Ilya has about three hours to kill while the girls nap off their travel.

He decides to take a selfie of himself and sends it to Shane. He follows it with a Safe travels and tell your mother I say hello. Then, he decides to go down the health club to exercise for a bit, just to kill the time.

He gets a text back as he's climbing onto the stationary bike Where are you? Those aren't your pillows? Ilya grins, delighted by the jealous tinge of the message.

Balancing on the stationary bike, he takes a picture of himself on it. He sends back his own response. Am on a vacation.

Oh, was it like a last minute thing? Ilya feels a little mean when he texts back Nope

Shane first sends back an emoji of a frown face. It is then followed up by another text message.

Jane: Why didn’t you tell me?

Ilya: Is a surprise. Can you guess where I am?

Jane: I can't tell where you are by some pillows.

Ilya: You can tell where I am not.

Shane sends him back a couple of frowny faces. Ilya, deciding to be nice, tells him, I will get fantastic gift for you. He was already planning on doing that, but hadn’t originally planned on telling Shane.

You don't need to do that Shane texts back. Ilya can't tell if he means that or if he's making fun of Ilya's tendency to say just that. Too bad, you will get anyway.

Shane doesn’t seem to have a good response to that, as he doesn’t get another text from him. Not until he’s telling Ilya that they’re boarding. Ilya wishes him another safe travels and gets back to killing time. About a couple of hours later, he gets a text from Allison asking where he is. He tells her.

The girls are already in possession of sparkling mouse ears, pink and purple, and they cling to his legs as soon as they see him.

“I see the obligatory mouse ears have been gotten,” Ilya says. 

“The girls got some for you as well,” Allison says with a grin. “I tried to convince them to get the regular cap style for you, but they thought they didn't look good enough”

The ears have a hot pink blue in between, with white black and pink patterns. It's very silly and he puts it on instantly.

“How do I look?” He asks. Harper and Sage giggle, but they clap enthusiastically.

“It's very cool, Uncle Ilya,” Sage nods.

The title makes him warm and so happy he knows he's grinning like an idiot.

“Time to eat,” he says, “don't want to be chewing when the fireworks come.”

Each one of them takes one of his hands and he leads the way to the reservation they have for dining. A wonderful spot where they can have good food and enjoy the fireworks. When they arrive, Ilya pulls out each of the girls' chairs before pushing them back in. He goes for Allison's but Wiebe shoos him off, claiming it as his right as Allison's husband.

Dinner is good, nothing out of this world but the girls seem enchanted by the little details of themes in everything. He asks Wiebe what he's getting up to now that he's retired and just as Ilya assumed he hasn't quite figured it out.

“What about you, Allison Wiebe?”

“Me? Same as always Ilyushka, training kids with ten times my talent,” she laughs.

“They are only so talented because you are coach,” Ilya states.

“How are Nat and Ty?” Natalia and Ty were the other two skaters under Allison when Ilya was working with her. Natalia was a few years younger than Ilya, just starting in the Junior division. Ty was about the same age as him and doing well in Senior competitions. They were more like siblings to Ilya than Alexei had been. A soft smile crosses her face.

“They're good. They miss you,” she admits.

“Why don't you visit the school Uncle Ilya?” Harper asks over her chicken tenders.

“I...”

“You'd like it,” Sage agrees, her mac and cheese holding on for dear life to her fork, “mommy helps girls learn to skate and jump!”

“I'm sure I would enjoy it,” Ilya agrees. After all, he had loved it. It is part of the reason he trusted her and still maintained contact. “But I am often very busy with hockey.”

“Daddy plays hockey,” Sage says as if this was breaking news information, “but he says now he's going to stay home with me and Harper and learn to do our hair right.”

He nods seriously, “That is quite an undertaking. I am sure that the training will be thorough and rigorous. I hope you do not let him off easy.”

Harper giggles and nods, “Okay, Uncle Ilya!”

“Turning my kids against me, Rozanov?” Wiebe asks, though his smile is good natured.

“Hair is very important, Wiebe,” he says seriously, “crowning glory.”

That is what his mamma used to say when she plaited his hair. He still felt that way to some extent and never kept his hair too short.

“Yes, yes of course,” Wiebe agrees, which is part of why Ilya likes him. He is genial and level-headed and kind. And he treats Allison well.

They finish dessert just in time for the fireworks, Harper on his shoulders and Sage on Wiebe's. He doesn't realize until that moment how much fireworks remind him of Shane... of the first time they kissed. He holds on to Harper's leg and pulls out his phone to take some pictures and video of the fireworks.

As the fireworks come to an end, so too do the twins' energy. Harper is half falling asleep on Ilya. He carries her to the Wiebe's room and wishes them a good night, before retiring to his own room. He first sends the pictures and video to Shane. He doesn't think that the other man will see it for a while, likely still on the plane. Though, he does look forward to seeing Shane's reaction when he does get them. Then, he adds some of the pictures of the fireworks onto his Instagram. In the caption he writes, fantastic, but can't compare to new years.

The next morning, he wakes to a message from Shane. Nothing can compare to New Year's. Where are you?

Ilya: In hotel room, why?

Ilya sees the dots of Shane messaging him. He patiently waits. Then suddenly Shane is calling him.

“Hollander,” he answers.

“Where are you?”

“Do not be boring, Hollander,” he says, “I will send you clues. How is Japan?”

“It's a lot,” he says, “not bad at all just...I don't think I've ever been anywhere so bright except Vegas.”

“What have you done?” Ilya asks.

“Not much, we only got in a couple of hours ago. It was like…a 13 hour flight. But we got some really good ramen and we checked into a ryokan, which is like a traditional inn.”

“How is your mamma liking it?”

“She's...I think she's trying to make everything all scheduled and busy. To you know...not think about stuff.”

“That is opposite of vacation. It should be relaxing,” Ilya says. He recognizes that this might be a bit hypocritical of him, given he is vacationing at a theme park, but still. “Please tell Yuna Hollander that her favorite of her son’s friends says she deserves relaxation.”

“I will,” Shane promises, “and you have fun...wherever you are.”

“Oh, I will. I should get up soon,” Ilya says, “What are your plans for tomorrow?”

“I honestly don’t know. Whatever it is that my mom has planned. I’m hoping at some point to check out the temple close to here,” Shane says. “Oh and I told my mom about Nara and she said maybe later this week we could take the bullet train there.”

“Do you still also want to go your grandmother's village?” 

Shanes hums softly on the other end of the line, “I do, I just don't know how to bring it up.”

“If your mamma is avoiding thoughts, she might not think about visiting village. I think you must say you are interested. Maybe when she is talking plans?” Ilya suggests.

“What if she doesn't want to go?”

“I think she will, but if not then you should go. She can make her choice and you make yours, yes? It is your blood too, Shane.”

“Yeah,” Shane sighs. “I just…I don’t want to go alone.”

“Will your dad not go?”

“I don’t want to have to make him choose between me and my mom,” Shane says.

“You are not making him,” Ilya points out. “And…if he does not go…then you call me on phone and I will talk with you through it.”

“But maybe she'll say yes?”

Ilya nods even though Shane can't see it, “Yes, I think so. Was her parents' choice not to go home. Not hers. She is there with you now.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Shane sighs. “I’ll ask her during breakfast tomorrow.”

“Sounds like good plan,” Ilya says. “I would ask what you’re planning to do today, but I don’t think you’ll answer me,” Shane says.

“Again, I will send clues,” Ilya tells him.

“Are…is anyone else on this vacation with you?” Shane asks.

“Old friends,” he says and then because he doesn't want Shane to worry, “old family friends.”

“Oh…like…Russian family friends or…?”

“My ‘billet’ family,” Ilya corrects. He answers because the truth is important to Shane and because he knows Shane will worry otherwise. Perhaps assuming that Ilya is spending time with Sveta.

He thinks that he would like it if they met, if she could know the person she could spot through Ilya’s behavior alone.

“You didn't billet though,” Shane huffs and it makes Ilya happy that he remembers, “oh you mean your ex-coach?”

“Yes, my ex-coach,” Ilya says.

“Oh, that’s really cool that you’re still close with her,” Shane says. All traces of his grumpy jealousy gone.

“Oh shoot mom's texting it's time for dinner,” Shane says.

“Tell them hello from me,” Ilya smiles, “I will send clues.”

“Okay, I’ll send photos soon!” Shane promises. 

“Talk to you later…Shane,” Ilya says.

“Bye, Ilya,” Shane returns, and Ilya can practically hear the smile on his face.

Once they officially hang up, Ilya starts getting ready for a day at the parks. He makes sure to grab the ears that the girls have gifted him. He texts Allison to let them know that he’s ready.

Allison texts back a picture of the girls in a very pink salon getting their hair done. He heads down to the lobby and then to the salon where the girls are being sprinkled with glitter.

When they are done, they both hop out of their chairs excitedly. They’re talking over one another to show off their new princess makeovers. Harper has chosen Ariel while Sage chose Mulan. He tells them that they both made excellent choices and look like royalty.

“Will you be a prince, Uncle Ilya?”

He smiles down at them, “Mmm am already famous hockey player. Would be too much for the world if I were also a prince.”

“A hockey prince,” Harper says, determined.

“I believe that title is already taken by Shane Hollander,” Ilya jokes.

Sage’s little nose crinkles up, “Who?”

Ilya looks up at Wiebe with delight and maybe eyes that look like cartoon heights, “Wiebe, you have kept your children free of the cult of Shane Hollander?”

Wiebe sighs and shakes his head, “No, Rozanov they just don't care about hockey.”

“If there is a prince of hockey, it's Uncle Ilya,” Harper declares.

“Well then, I shall take it,” Ilya says. “Now, how about we get breakfast and then we can go to the park to meet our guide?”

“I can't believe you got one of those, Roz,” Wiebe says as they make their way to the breakfast where the girls are already squealing as they spot some characters walking around the tables. 

“What?”

“A guide? For Disney?”

“Why not? Is nicest way to do it,” he shrugs.

“I appreciate it, but the girls have to do at least one normal line for a ride they want to go on, I can't have them thinking this stuff is normal,” he says kindly.

Ilya nods.

He does understand, he wants to spoil the girls just like he would spoil his own niece if he ever had the opportunity, but kids need to grow up with some toes in the real world even if they have money and there is always food at home.

“Okay. Besides I heard many lines here are, eh…playable… and have good theme. Would like to see it myself,” Ilya agrees.

“Good,” Wiebe nods. “Also, standing in line for character interactions.”

“Some lines,” Ilya agrees, “we cannot waste guide.” 

“Hey, I am all for getting food quickly and maybe some backstage stuff, but waiting in line is part of the experience,” he says, “oh, wait, get your phone out the girls are about to talk to Cinderella.”

Ilya grins and does so. He gets close enough to hear the conversation. The girls seem thrilled by the attention. And that is when he hears his name.

“That’s our Uncle Ilya. He’s a hockey prince and surprised us with this trip,” Harper proudly says.

Cinderella turns to him and nods with a lovely curtsy,

“Ah prince Ilya you are escorting the princesses on their adventure today?”

“I am,” he grins.

“How lucky you are,” she nods and turns her attention back to the girls and some other children that had just arrived.

The interaction is wrapped up with some photos and autographs. Harper and Sage show them off happily and then dig into their mouse shaped waffles.

Throughout the day he has a fun time taking pictures in different backgrounds that do not have any obvious mouse-related things in them, at least none that he can see. It helps that they go to the animal themed park first so the best that Shane guesses for the first part of the day is that Ilya is in a zoo somewhere.

They are on the safari when Allison decides to sit next to him.

“So…what was all of this about?”

“I told you. I was bored and I wanted to spoil you and the girls,” Ilya answers.

“Yes…but why now? We haven’t spent time together in years and now we’re in Disney.”

“I was ... missing things,” he starts, “missing you of course and... just the ice.”

Allison leans back lightly in her seat looking out at the greenery as they approach some deer looking things, “I am guessing you don't mean the ice in general.”

Ilya swallows for a second. His eyes are looking out at the landscape the designers of the park made look like grasslands.

“I broke out my ice skates,” Ilya tells her.

“Did you?” Allison asks. Her tone is casual. “And?”

“I was not the first time but, I just wish I could still... it was part of me,” he says.

“It still is,” Allison answers, “at least it seems to be. How is your lutz?”

“Decent,” he shrugs, “needs work.”

“It's been five years since you competed, Ilya,” she reminds him softly.

“Ilya has never competed,” he reminds her.

“Are you unhappy with hockey?”

He shakes his head and pauses to lean forward and admire the zebras.

“I am not unhappy,” he says after taking some pictures and smiling down at them, “I am excellent at hockey. Not the best, not all the time, but I can be.”

“You had a good season. Made it to the playoffs,” Allison says. 

“Yes. And it is fun,” Ilya says.

“I also just miss other types of skating.” He sighs and then admits, “I told someone about my medal.” And he thinks maybe that is where this started. Sharing that hidden part of himself and that person being amazed. A reminder of how good he was.

Allison looks shocked, a little worried.

“Ilya...”

“I trust him,” he says, looking out to the giraffes. They're lovely and an easy distraction from the way his stomach jumps.

“Okay,” she says softly, laying a hand on his shoulder, “and it made you want to compete again?”

He shakes his head, “Hockey is my focus, but... I want to skate again. I want to work with my body as it is now.”

It sounds like Allison lets out a long breath. “Okay...okay. What are you thinking?” 

“Well...I will need a good trainer. And...I do not think I can practice as much during hockey season,” Ilya tells her. “I just want to see what I could achieve.”

“If you are seen in the training circuit, people could start connecting dots,” she says gently. 

He nods, “I know.”

“This...this will take some serious consideration, Ilya,” Allison tells him. “Are you ready for that kind of thing?”

“...I do not know,” Ilya responds. He just misses skating. And he does want to see how good he could be with this body.

She pats his thigh, “We will figure something out.” He smiles, and though it is a vague promise, he believes her.

The biggest thing off his chest, he returns his energy to entertaining the girls and every so often sending pictures to Shane. The other man is likely sleeping at this rate, and will wake up to a collection of pictures of animals and some of the themed decor.

In the evening, Shane sends guesses. Everything from zoos to actual safari in Africa. How he thinks Ilya got that far that fast he does not know, but then he got to Japan in the same time so maybe. He takes a call as they walk over to their evening meal reservation.

“You are terrible guesser, Hollander,” he says.

“What else am I supposed to guess? You’re sending pictures of animals and nature and something that looks like a village,” Shane complains. “Here, maybe this will clear things up,” Ilya says, as he sends a picture of the giant tree that stands as the major landmark of the park.

“It really doesn't,” Shane mutters but he seems to be doing something when Ilya hears, “mom, dad, where is this?”

“Oh that's that big tree at the Disney zoo,” he hears Yuna followed by David, “looks like Animal Kingdom bud, in Florida.”

Shane comes back on the phone, “Are you in Disney World?”

His tone is incredulous, like he cannot believe it.

“Yes, though I do think asking your parents is cheating,” Ilya tells him. He then sends another picture of himself and the twins, all three of them with their ears.

When Shane speaks again he sounds like someone is strangling him, “That's really cute, Roz.”

“I have not received any pictures from you,” Ilya complains.

“Oh um, okay hold on,” he says a little far from the receiver as he sends over some beautiful shots of the city, the views, and his parents.

“Are you not there, Hollander?”

Shane groans softly,

“Ugh hold on, mom took a few. She'll send them.”

He's taking his seat as a picture comes through, and he very very nearly misses the seat entirely and eats the floor in this Safari themed restaurant. He almost embarrasses himself in front of God, Donald Duck, and two 6 year olds because Shane Hollander is dressed in what looks like traditional Japanese attire.

He quickly saves the picture to his photos, putting it into a specific folder. When he looks up, he notices that Allison is looking at him with an arched eyebrow. Shaking his head, he tells Shane that he has to go, that he’s about to have dinner.

“Oh, well…I hope you enjoy dinner,” Shane says, sounding rather disappointed.

“Enjoy your day, yes? Send more pictures. So many, yes?”

“I will if you will,” Shane agrees.

“Of course,” Ilya easily agrees. They hang up soon after.

“Who was that?” Allison asks. “Uh…a friend,” Ilya answers.

Wiebe, who is settling the girls down in their seats and reminding them this is a restaurant and not a ride, looks up and gives him an unimpressed stare before looking back to the girls.

“A friend, yes, what friend?”

“Hockey friend,” he shrugs.

“Which hockey friend? Someone from your team?” Allison asks.

“Uh…no. He is on other team now…but we played on Canadian National Team together,” Ilya says. Wiebe looks at him for a long moment, before a look of understanding crosses his features. Ilya does not know what he has come to understand, but it makes him decide to avoid eye contact, taking a drink from his coke. 

Allison doesn't say anything else but she reaches over and squeezes his arm. God that is the second, maybe third person who just can tell just by looking at him — Shane isn't even here and they know. It makes his stomach drop because yes Rae had been fine, the Wiebes are fine they know him and like him as he is so why wouldn't it be fine, but someday eventually someone will realize and it will not be fine.

He takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself. That is something he will have to consider later. For now, he is safe. He is in Disney World with the Wiebes who have not said anything. Instead, conversation returns to the girls and what their favorite parts of the day were.

He helps Wiebe get the girls back to the car at the end of the night and gives Jacob, their guide, his tip for the day.

“Thank you, Mr. Rozanov,” he smiles, “and thank you for keeping me on as your guide for tomorrow. I look forward to continuing to make it magical for all of you.”

“Of course, you do good job and keep the girls easily engaged,” Ilya says.

“They're very enthusiastic,” Jacob smiles. “I hope you all have a good night.”

“Goodnight,” he says as he ducks into the van, “and Jacob?”

The man turns back with his ever present smile, “Yes?”

“It's Ilya,” he reminds him for the like tenth time today.

There is a slight flush that comes to Jacob's cheeks. Shit, Ilya is going to have to keep an eye on that and remain just friendly. “Of...of course, Ilya.”

Allison leans into his shoulder as he closes the door, “Does hockey friend need to be worried?”

“No, there is no need for worrying. Jacob is nice but that is it,” Ilya says. Speaking of Shane, he gets another message with a few pictures of a beautiful park and some of the big red gates that usually lead to the temples.

Beside him she snorts. Very unladylike. “Oh, yeah, Jacob has no chance,” she snickers.

“Allison Wiebe,” he hisses.

Wiebe tuts from beneath the sleeping girls, “Ali don't torture him.”

“I'm not,” Allison defends like a liar. “So...your hockey friend is in Japan, huh?”

“Yes...he is visiting with his family,” Ilya tells her.

“That's lovely,” she smiles. She doesn't ask to see more pictures and he doesn't offer. They get the girls up to the room and Ilya heads back to his own. He wants to call Shane but it's early afternoon there. He's probably on a tour or at lunch or just spending time with his parents.

Instead, he decides to take some of the night to watch some of the Disney movies he'd never had the chance to. If anything, it was to understand the girls' excitement about the characters and not have to ask who some of these characters were. In the middle of one of the movies, he gets a text from Shane. It looks like they are in that famous crossing area and Shane has written, My mom has convinced me I need to try Japanese fashion.

Ilya feels his eyes go wide. Video call he texts back you were at my fashion moment I must be at yours. Shane doesn't video call him but some twenty minutes later he gets a picture from Yuna's number.

It is a rather simple outfit, but Shane looks very good in it. It's a collared button down, covered by a leather jacket with what looks like a big fluffy hood, and dark jeans with a stylish pair of sneakers.

Ilya: You are buying this outfit, yes?

Jane: Mom is really pushing for another one

There is another photo, this time from Shane. It looks like a red shirt, covered by a black jacket. A two layered skirt and dress pants act as the bottoms.

Ilya: You are rich man, Hollander. Get both.

Jane: Where am I going to wear these things?

Ilya: Parties, events, another visit to Japan, my house

Ilya lets himself picture that for a moment. Shane accepting awards in clothes that represent his heritage, Shane dancing in that leather, Shane in Ilya's house folding those exact clothes carefully before climbing into Ilya's bed.

Ilya: How much does the second outfit cost? He sends him the picture for clarity.

Jane: The whole thing? Like 45,000 yen

Ilya runs the conversion and goes to his bank app, using the same contact he's used to send Shane money for pizza. He transfers 400 CAD.

Jane: ILYA

Ilya: Shane Hollander

Jane: why would you do that???

Ilya: You should get both outfits.

About 20 minutes later his phone rings.

“You bought outfit?”

“Yes,” Shane answers, “I could have gotten it without your little tip, thanks.”

“But I want you to wear it for me, Hollander. Want private runway show in my house,” he says.

“Is this my gift?”

“No, Hollander, this is... treat. For me.”

“I’m a little worried how extravagant my gift is going to be, if me getting 400 dollars worth of clothes is a treat for you,” Shane jokes.

“I will buy you the castle,” Ilya jokes back, “for summer home.” Shane laughs and it makes Ilya feel bright and light.

“You know, I am actually thinking of getting a summer home,” Shane says.

“Oh? Have gotten interested in real estate? Is that you getting in touch with boring side?” Ilya teases.

“Just want a place of my own to relax in the off season, but like maybe still close to my parents?”

“Mmm yes,” Ilya agrees, “do not want to stray too far from the chicken parmesan.”

“Or you know, my parents,” Shane retorts a little dryly, but Ilya can imagine the amused smile on his face.

“Makes sense. Impossible to not want to spend time with Yuna Hollander,” Ilya jokes. “…And I suppose David Hollander is okay.”

“Oh you suppose? I'm gonna tell him you said that,” he says.

“He will agree with me,” Ilya replies.

“So we're going to my grandmother's village tomorrow. She had sisters who stayed there which means mom still has cousins who live there.”

“That is exciting,” Ilya says. He waves away that pang of envy again. He made his choice. And he is happy for Shane to be able to have this experience.

“Yeah…I am still kind of nervous though,” Shane admits.

“Have you spoken to them?”

“Texted a bit,” he says, “Their English is alright and like way better than any Japanese I can string together.”

“Am surprised you are not fluent, Mr. Languages,” Ilya teases.

“Yeah, well I’m too busy already learning Cyrillic to learn another alphabet,” Shane retorts back.

Ilya thinks he absolutely must be joking. Shane learned to pronounce his name and that was so heavily sweet that he still hasn't moved past it. The idea that Shane might try to learn any more Russian at all seems ridiculous.

“Have I actually struck the Ilya Rozanov speechless?” Shane jokes. But there’s now some hesitancy to his voice.

“You…you are seriously learning Russian?” Ilya asks.

“I mean…yeah. Kind of? It’s been slow going. I’m still only on the basics,” Shane says.

He feels like there's something heavy on his chest but he can't tell if the feeling is comforting or too much to bear, “Why?”

“For y...so that it's eas...do you not want me to?”

It's not that Ilya doesn't want Shane to. It's just...it is a lot. It feeds that dangerous thing in his chest, digging him deeper. Perhaps to a point where he does not think there is any getting out.

“I just...did not expect you to,” Ilya says.

“Do you want me to stop?” Shane asks.

“No,” Ilya finds himself immediately answering.

“I get it if it's weird I mean. It's personal, it's yours and I just took it upon myself —”

“Shane—”

“I'm so fucking —”

“Shane no one in my whole life has ever thought to learn Russian for me. Some speak already, others help with English. No one has thought...maybe Ilya wants to say things just as he thinks them. No one but you.”

“No one?” Shane asks, and he does sound sad when he echoes that.

“No one. And so, when I say that you are earnest, I mean things like this. You wear heart on your sleeve. Learning Russian...this is a lot. But like first New Years with your family, a lot can be good,” Ilya says.

It's important that he says this because he doesn't want Shane to stop. And it scares him, how much he wants it.

“It's a lot,” Shane agrees, “but not too much?”

“I don't know,” he says honestly, “but I know I would like it if I could say what I mean. At least with you.”

He runs his hands through his hair. There is an urge to get up and walk. Standing up, he goes over to the window and watches out of it. Even with being on the phone, he feels oddly exposed.

“Okay,” Shane says, and Ilya can imagine the other man biting his lip with how unsure he sounds now. “You'll...you'll let me know if it gets to be too much, right?”

 Ilya knows that what Shane is asking is if he gets to be too much. If all of the beautiful sincerity and loyalty that Shane is becomes more than Ilya wants.

“I will,” he says, instead of you could never be too much.

“Okay,” Shane says, sounding a little relieved. Then, with some reluctance he adds, “I should get going, we're about to grab lunch. But...I'll keep sending pictures. And we'll talk later?”

“Yes,” he says, “yes, we'll talk later.”

“Oh before I forget, the little girls, what are their names?”

“Oh, Harper and Sage. My coach's daughters,” he says with a smile.

“They're cute,” Shane says, “okay. Talk soon.”

When they hang up, Ilya flops back onto the bed. Staring up at the ceiling, he wonders what the fuck he’s even doing. Part of him wants to run. To not respond to Shane’s next message. See if there is any way to escape the inevitable hurt that will come of this. But again, he recognizes he’s already too deep. Running will only hurt him. It would hurt Shane, and make him hate Ilya. Truly, it would be more painful to rip off his limb than cut ties with Shane Hollander.

Which means that when Shane finally realizes that anyone else, even any other man in Canada, would be a better choice than Ilya, he'll break. Ilya who is full of hidden things and sharp edged secrets, the kind which end careers and lives.

Ilya grits his teeth against the way his eyes prick with tears. This is stupid and he is an idiot. An idiot for letting himself get into this situation. But he has become addicted to Shane’s kindness and honesty.

He greedily wants more of it as much of it as he can get from Shane between now and the inevitable, when Shane looks at Ilya and sees him for what he is and walks away.

Taking a breath, he reminds himself that wasn’t happening today. That for now, Shane is more than content in whatever is going on between them. Shane hasn’t talked about anyone else to him. And Ilya hadn't hooked up with anyone but Shane in so long, not out of anything other than a lack of desire. It isn't as if they agreed it's just...it's just that he doesn't want anyone who isn't Shane. Maybe he just needs to go to sleep. It has been a long day for him. Tomorrow is going to be another long day in the hot sun. He can figure this all out later.

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

Shane finishes getting ready and meets his parents for lunch. They went to a highly awarded place with tiny food last night so today they're having what his dad described as truckloads of ramen.

Today is the day where they will be meeting his mom's family. He supposes they are his family too, but he's more distantly related. They will be headed out to the countryside and spending time with the cousins.

He's anxious about it but mostly he's freaked out by seeing his mom nervous. She's always so calm and has five contingency plans but he thinks that right now she looks as nervous as he does before a big game.

Thankfully, Dad seems to be good at keeping her calm. Which does ease some of Shane's nerves. But he kind of wishes he had someone for himself to lean on in this moment. They finish lunch and make their way to the train, which will take them to the village where their family will meet them.

He watches his dad hold his mom's hand, the way he does that soothes her and makes her shoulders drop. His stomach clenches when he imagines Ilya holding his hand in this moment. It's a ridiculous thought. He and Ilya are best friends and yes they care about each other and they have amazing sex but...it'll end. At least that part of it. Someday eventually Shane will meet someone and get married and have kids just like he's supposed to. Hayden already got married and he's only a year older than Shane.

Not to mention, Ilya will likely recognize that Shane is too boring. He’ll likely end up marrying Svetlana or someone who is maybe more his type. They’ll stay friends, until eventually they drift apart because life gets in the way.

The idea fills him with dread, he feels sick with it and reaches for his water bottle to try to make it go away.

“Are you okay sweetheart?”

He nods at his mom.

“Yeah just...got a little motion sick,” he says.

He sees the way her brows just furrow a little. But she doesn’t push. It’s likely she’ll just assume it is motion sickness or that he’s nervous about the upcoming visit. Meanwhile, he tries to push away the thoughts of the nightmare idea of not being friends with Ilya’s

When they arrive, his mom holds her hands over his shoulders and he reaches up to squeeze her hand.

“It's gonna be fine, mom,” he whispers.

 She nods, “Yes, of course.”

They step out into the train station. There is a group of people standing, with a small sign that says ‘Hollander.’ His mom raises a hesitant hand up and waves at them. They in turn, seem to be excited to see her. The eldest member of the group comes up to his mom.

“You must be Yuna,” she says in accented English. “Look just like Tomoko.”

His mom's hand tightens a bit on his shoulder.

“Yes,” she says and her voice sounds a little shaky, “it's so nice to meet you.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you as well,” the older woman says. “I am Fumiko. Tomoko was my oneesan.”

His mom introduces him and his dad and the woman, his great-aunt, introduces her son and his wife and their son who seems a bit older than Shane, and her daughter and granddaughter.

They are greeted warmly and invited back to the great-aunt’s house for tea. She expresses it would be a pleasant time to learn more about the Hollanders, outside of the letters his grandmother sent. This last piece of information seems to surprise his mom. As they walk back to the house, his great-aunt explains to him and his mother that his Grandma Tomoko had kept her regularly updated regarding how Yuna, and then Shane, had been doing. This is supported by his great-aunt pulling out a book, once they get to her home and are settled, filled with pictures and cut outs from the newspaper. It is a lot and he notices his mom tears up just a little bit. His great-aunt seems much more interested in talking to his mom. Which is great, because it seems like his mom has 100 and more questions. His dad ends up in a conversation with the cousin and her husband. The youngest, the 12-year-old girl named Arisa, has decided to put her focus on Shane, asking him what Canada is like and what he does.

“Uh…I play hockey. Professionally, for the Montreal Metros,” he tells her.

“Ahhh, uh-huh, uh-huh,” she nods. “I could tell you were athlete. Like knows like, ne?”

He grins at that, “Oh, what do you play?”

“I figure skate,” she smiles, holding her hands over her lap, “ I hope to be on the Olympic team someday. My coach says that if I work hard it's possible.”

Shane blinks and thinks what a small world it is. Now he has two figure skaters in his life. Well, one active one and one retired one. Part of him wants to ask her if she’s familiar at all with Ilya’s past skating career. But he feels like that would be inappropriate. He still hasn’t gotten Ilya’s permission to watch any of his previous skating.

 “That’s really cool,” Shane says instead. “I’m sure that you’re pretty good.”

 “Ahhh,” she waves, “I do alright. I am still only at junior level.”

Something strikes her all of a sudden.

“Would you like to go skating while you are here?”

He thinks instantly of their itinerary, of things that are booked and where he is expected to be. Then he thinks there isn't a point to this if he isn't here to spend time skating with his little cousin.

“I would love that,” he tells her and he means it so much, “I trained with a skater for a little bit one summer but I am not very graceful on figure skates. You'll have to be patient with me.”

“I am very patient,” she nods, squeezing her hands on her lap, “I always help kōchi with the little ones when I have time.”

“Okay, when should we go then?” Shane asks.

“We can go now!” Arisa suggests.

She goes up to her mother and waits quietly for a moment before the woman turns her attention to her. As they speak, Shane takes a moment to appreciate how much Arisa's mom looks like Shane's mom. He didn't think about it at all, how it would feel, to see himself in his family.

It’s a little strange he thinks, feeling this connection. He suddenly feels part of something much bigger. Yet, there is also something settling about it. Arisa hops back over to him.

 “Alright, we can go,” she tells him. “My mom will tell your parents.”

The rink where Arisa practices is only a twenty minute walk away but Arisa has a lot to say. She seems genuinely excited to meet him.

“My mom says that you are a famous athlete but was not sure what sport. It is so cool that it is also a skating sport. Baaba was so happy when you wrote. She said she had been watching you since you were my age.”

“Really?” Shane asks, then internally cringes as he imagines Ilya’s eye roll.

“Mm-hmm, really,” Arisa nods. “She says that you are very good. Anyways, she practically cried when she got your guys’ letter.”

“I wish I had... I should have thought to do this sooner,” he says.

“But you are here now,” she grins, “and maybe if I become a regional champion I can come to Canada on competition and see your home too!”

“Yeah that would be cool,” Shane agrees.

“You are not very talkative are you?” Arisa asks. It’s not said unkindly. And she doesn’t wait for him to answer. “It is okay. I talk enough for a whole group.”

 He laughs softly, “Yeah I tend to mostly listen.”

“Your mom is not like this,” she notes, “I thought your dad was quiet but I think he was just umm... I'm not sure how to say it - letting her be with her family I guess.”

“Standing back a bit? He does that. But no he's not like quiet it's just me,” he shrugs.

“Mm, that is okay. I have a friend, Yuki. She is also very quiet and she likes that I fill the space for her. Do you have a friend who fills the space for you?” She asks.

“Ah, yeah. I do,” Shane smiles. He had a few friends who are like that. But the one that obviously stands out the most is Ilya.

As they arrive, Arisa waves at the skate attendants and motions at Shane, at some point saying his name. She asks for his boot size and soon enough they're lacing up on an otherwise empty rink.

It feels a little weird, not being in hockey skates. But he is at least confident enough on these ones to not fall on his face.

“What got you into ice skating?” He finally asks.

“Watching other figure skaters. And going to the National Skating Championships,” Arisa answers.

Arisa skates like she's floating, like she doesn't have to think about it. And it isn't like Shane struggles, he's probably the fastest in the league if he's honest, but there's something so seamless about the way she moves.

“How old were you when you started?”

“I was five,” she smiles, “how old were you when you started hockey?”

“Six actually,” he smiles back.

“You have been doing hockey a long time. What got you into it?” Arisa asks.

“My mom was really into hockey. And my dad played in college. So, we would go to hockey games and I told them I wanted to try,” Shane says.

“And then?” she prompts skating backwards.

“And then it turns out I was really good,” he grins. 

“So cool,” she says with a twirl, “I will tell my friends that my いとこ is the best hockey player in Canada.”

“My friend would be upset about that but he plays for Boston now so I guess he can be the best hockey player in America,” Shane says as he attempts his own clumsy spin.

“Best friends taking over North American hockey,” she nods, with a grin. “Oh, oh, what do you think of Japan so far? Have you done cool things? Have you gone to Nara? Or the Pokemon Center?”

“I did go to the Pokemon Center to get a gift for my friend Hayden. We are actually going to Nara tomorrow,” he says.

“Yes, yes, I am so excited for you,” Arisa claps her hands. “But watch out, ‘cause the deer can be very pushy.”

“I’m used to dealing with pushy people,” Shane jokes.

“Yes but the deer, they are adorable,” she warns him.

He very nearly says that he is also used to pushy adorable people, but holds that back, “Okay I will watch out for the adorable pushy deer.”

“You must show deer you have no more when you run out too,” Arisa warns him.

“Got it, got it,” Shane laughs.

“Oh! Are you also going to visit the shrine there?”

“I think so? Mom planned everything,” he says, “I just planned...this.”

“I am so happy you did, whole family is so happy to have you back,” she says.

“Yeah. It’s…nice…knowing that you all were happy to hear from us. Mom and I, we were pretty disconnected from our Japanese side. Though, everyone back home expects me to uphold Asian representation. And it was just…difficult,” Shane admits. “So now I can say that I do have family outside of my parents.”

She tilts her head a little and he wonders if maybe he spoke too fast or if he didn't make sense even if English was her first language. Instead he's surprised when she glides right to him and wraps her arms around him.

He tentatively hugs her back. She squeezes him back tighter, before completely letting go.

“Not that I minded, but what was that for?” Shane asks.

“To remind you that you have family and that you are not alone,” Arisa says.

His eyes are watering but he won't cry, he just blinks a bit and then tries a spin that he knows he's going to fall on his ass just to break the emotion in his chest. It works, or rather doesn't, and Arisa laughs at him as he falls.

The rest of the day is spent skating. Arisa somehow convinces him to take part in a video, though for what he doesn’t know. Then, they head back to his great-aunt’s house for a wonderful home cooked meal. And it is probably the most at home Shane has felt this entire trip.

On the train back to their hotel he can see the difference in his mom, it's very obvious. There is something a little sad but mostly peaceful about the way she looks out the window, her hand in her dad's is still held but not clenched. Once more, he wishes there were someone, someone in particular, here holding his hand. He closes his eyes and tries not to hate himself for it.

When they get back to the hotel, he notices he has a lot of pictures from Ilya. It looks like they were in Epcot that particular day. There’s one picture that looks like Ilya is in a miniaturized Japan, with the caption, I have copied your vacation. Shane smiles at the image. He in turn sends back images of the village, of the family photo they took and a selfie on the ice he took with Arisa. This is my figure skating cousin. She’s coming for your title.

Ilya asks for her name and then goes quiet for about 20 minutes before texting, She is good, Shane, who is her coach? Shane did not ask which irritates Ilya.

Lily: These are important things to know Shane Hollander!

Shane: Why do you need to know her coach?

Lily: To know if she has good coach to get her to Olympics!

Shane feels a ridiculous amount of affection at the sentiment, the thought that Ilya has any ounce of investment in his little cousin making the Olympics. Shane hadn't even mentioned it, but it is a fair assumption - the pinnacle of hockey is the cup, but there is nothing higher for a figure skater than Olympic gold.

Shane: You think she could make it?

Lily: Any skater can make it with work and good coach. And she is technically a Hollander, so talent is given.

He tells Ilya about going to Nara tomorrow and promises to take videos before saying goodnight. The next day the deer are exactly as adorable and as pushy as they had been described. He dutifully asks his mom to take video of him with the deer so he can send it to Ilya.

Arisa’s advice comes in handy and as soon as he opens his arms to show he has no more deer biscuits, the deer walk off. Likely to go pester another visitor for their deer biscuits. Ilya sends him a message that says, Why would you not just give them more, Shane Hollander? How can you say no to those big brown eyes?

He laughs and tells him to stop critiquing his deer feeding and go to sleep since he has twin 6 year olds to show Cinderella's castle to tomorrow and he can't imagine that is going to be a relaxing kind of day. They visit the rest of the park and the nearby temple as well as museums and just beautiful spots nearby. He's so happy to have this time with his parents, he can't help but wrap his arms around them both and squeeze them close. It surprises them and they squeeze back, watching the beautiful scenery in front of them. When they get back, his mom says she's too tired for dinner.

“You boys go ahead,” she says, “I'll have a room service sandwich and have an early evening.”

Shane frowns slightly in concern, but nods.

“Okay, have a good night, mom.” He wishes. She presses a kiss to the top of his head, before kissing his dad and making her way to the hotel room they’ve gotten for the night.

His dad tilts his head down the hall, “Shall we?”

There is a luxury restaurant at the hotel, but his dad had spotted a place down the street with rice bowls that he was not about to pass on. He was a bit worried about exactly how many carbs he was consuming during this trip without the training to compensate, but he was willing to go with it for a few more days. After they ordered, Shane finally noticed his dad was gearing up to say something.

“So, Shane…excited that we’re going to be home soon?”

He starts. Which isn’t at all what Shane expected.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah,” Shane nods. “I’ve really enjoyed our time in Japan, but I’m looking forward to being back home. And preparing for the upcoming season.”

His dad waves his hand a bit, “Surely not just the season.”

Shane laughs quietly, “I still love Canada, dad. I'm not like screw Canada now that I've seen Japan.”

His dad nods a bit and takes a sip of his drink, “I wasn't really worried about that.”

Shane takes his own drink and watches his dad for a moment.

“Is there something you’re worried about?”

He asks.

“No, not worried,” his dad shakes his head. “Just curious.”

Shane is curious and confused himself, “Alright? About what.”

“You've been texting with Ilya a lot during the trip,” his dad says which instantly drops a stone into Shane's stomach, “do you miss him?”

Shane swallows. Because the immediate answer is yes. He does miss Ilya, and talking with him on the phone has made the distance more bearable. He just didn’t think he was being that obvious about it. He looks down at the table, his fingers fiddling with the chopsticks when he answers.

 “I mean…he’s my best friend.”

He looks up at his dad just waiting for him to say something else but he doesn't, his dad is never concerned with filling silences which is great and terrible depending on the situation.

“Has it been like... rude? I didn't mean to disrupt our family vacation —”

“No,” his dad says, shaking his head, “no you haven't done anything wrong, Shane. You are so happy every time you talk to him, it doesn't disrupt anything to see that.”

“His texts are usually just funny or like…interesting,” Shane defends. He takes another drink, feeling like his throat has suddenly gotten dry. “He’s…nice to talk to.”

“Is he…nicer to talk to than some of your other hockey friends?” David asks.

Shane feels a buzzing in his ears and stares down at the table, “I've texted Hayden too he's just... busy with Jackie you know?”

“Shane, you haven't done anything wrong. I'm just wondering,” his dad says quietly, “if talking with Ilya makes you happier than talking with other people.”

“I…I guess,” Shane shrugs, because he doesn’t really have anything else to say. Anything more would give away absolutely everything else. “He’s just…I just end up talking to him the most. But that makes sense, since we’ve been friends the longest.”

Their food arrives and Shane thanks the server as he's been taught to and he keeps his eyes on the bowl with too much delicious looking rice topped with fried things and starts to stab at it. They eat in silence for a while before he dares to ask, his voice so small he can barely hear it.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, no, of course not,” David says. “I want you to be happy, Shane. That’s what your mother and I both want. That’s all this is about. It is to make sure you’re happy.”

“I'm fine,” he says, his eyes still very much trained on his food and the table and anywhere but the person across from him. Because what if his dad looks disappointed, despite what he's saying. Or what if he's just trying to warn Shane of how obvious he's being in the gentlest way possible? He feels a hand covering his.

“Shane, bud, can you look at me for a second?” Shane begins to shake his head no. He can’t look at his dad. It will absolutely break him to see what expression he must have on his face.

He feels his dad take his hand and squeeze it.

“Shane, there's nothing to be scared about,” he says, “I want you to look at me when I say this.”

Shane has never been more scared in his fucking life but he looks up anyway. His dad doesn't look disappointed. He doesn't really look sad. Worried. He looks kind of worried.

“Shane, you are my whole damn world, do you know that?”

He nods once, maybe just jerks his head.

“We love you so much, we are so proud of you, and there is nothing - absolutely nothing you could find out there that makes you happy that would make us any less proud to be your parents.”

Shane swallows and nods his head again. He doesn’t cry, but he knows that it’s close. His dad continues, “Whatever it is, your mom and I support you.”

“It's nothing,” he says but there isn't even a little conviction in it, “he's just... he's just ...” His dad's silence is steady, his hand still there, holding tight. “I'm sorry,” he finally says, “I'm sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” his dad tells him quietly. He seems sincere. Earnest, his brain offers. Ilya’s favorite word for him, and maybe it could apply to all of his family. “I’m sorry that your mother or I ever gave you the impression that we would be upset about this.”

“Is she upset,” he says, because as long as they can talk around it he doesn't have to admit anything, “is that why she's not here?”

His dad shakes his head with a smile, “No, we just thought you needed a little less intensity and questioning than she brings to a conversation.”

Shane nods, it makes sense. He does think this conversation would not have gone so well with his mom’s laser focus. Thinks he might have left the stall and walked back to the hotel.

“Okay,” he says.

“We talked about just letting you come to us with this on your own time, but ... I felt that maybe you needed to be reminded that all that pressure from the team, the league, representing kids that look like you all over the sports world? That's not what you need to feel when you're with us. Your mom and I only want you to be happy, whatever that looks like.”

Shane swallows and nods, he understands and he wants to cry and he wants to give his dad something back for all this because it can't be easy for him.

After licking his lips, and trying a few times he says, “I…I think I like Ilya. As more than friends. And…and every time we’ve met up we’ve…been together. Like…not platonically.”

Then his dad does the most insane thing possible and smiles. Like... a delighted sort of smile like when he sees koalas eating bamboo on TV.

“So he's your boyfriend?”

Shane's eyes go wide and he shakes his head, “N...no. It's not like that. We're just... more than friends.”

 “Do you…want him to be your boyfriend?” His dad asks softly.

“I…I don’t know. Maybe? I just don’t want to scare him off,” Shane says. “And what we’re doing right now…it works.”

His dad nods and Shane blushes because he basically just admitted that he's friends with benefits with Ilya to his father. He isn't even hungry anymore.

“Do you wanna go back up to see mom?” Shane isn't even sure, but better to get this all done tonight he tells himself.

“I think that might be best,” he says. They finish up their dinner, or Shane at least attempts to because he doesn’t want to seem rude. Then they make their way back to the hotel, Shane following his dad into their room.

It's a double suite, so Shane has his own room within it, but he doesn't go there. He stands at the foot of his mom's bed like he's 7 years old and just threw up.

“Shane, honey,” she says as she leans forward, “come.” He sits on the edge of the bed even though he wants to crawl under the covers, because he is still in the clothes he wore all day and wearing his shoes.

Instead his mom comes over to him, and pulls him into a hug. He leans into it and closes his eyes when she presses another kiss to the top of his head.

“I'm sorry,” he whimpers pathetically, “I'm sorry mom I should have tried harder. I should have dated more girls after Jessica and tried harder to meet someone right and I didn't and I'm sorry.”

She shushes him and pulls him tighter, so much her fingers dig into his back, “No, baby, you don't have to be sorry about anything, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I made you feel like you had to try at all.”

It’s basically the exact same thing as his dad said. And suddenly there is such a weight off his shoulders that he starts crying into his mom’s shoulder. He feels her run her fingers through his hair, soothing him.

He must cry long enough for his dad to change into his pajamas and get in beside them on the bed.

“Do you want to tell your mom what we talked about?”

Shane sniffles and nods but takes probably another few minutes before he says sounding miserable to his own ears, “I like Ilya. As more than friends. We're more than friends, but we're not together...not boyfriends. I'm sorr—”

“Do not apologize for liking a lovely beautiful boy like Ilya,” his mom hushes, “is he good to you?”

“He’s great,” Shane says, and doesn’t think he can help the smile that crosses his face when he thinks about Ilya. “He’s funny and caring and really smart. He convinced a hotel bar in Nashville to give me ginger ale.”

His mom kisses the side of his face and pulls away, “So why isn't he your boyfriend yet?”

His dad laughs and Shane knows it's because this is exactly the reason he wanted to talk to him first. Mom had questions, she had thoughts on the matter.

“It's just ... we don't really name it,” he says, “it's simpler that way. You know we can't be out...the league. Our teams. Everything we've worked for.”

“Well, I can understand why you wouldn't want to come out that way. But...surely you two could identify it, just for yourselves?” his mom questions.

“Mom...Ilya sounded like he was ready to bolt when I told him I was learning Russian,” Shane quietly tells her. Like his dad she does that insane thing and smiles like what he just said was cute.

“You're learning Russian for him?”

“Yes,” he sighs, “and it freaked him out. He's not...he's caring and good and that still doesn't mean he wants to be my ... it doesn't need a name.”

“Shane,” His mom starts and pulls his face up so he can look at her. “I do agree with you that Ilya sometimes seems...overwhelmed when he's shown kindness. Like on New Years a few years ago. But...even if he did run...I think he'd come back.”

“What did he say when he learned you were learning Russian?” his dad asks.

“He said it is a lot. But...he said it was earnest and that no one had ever done that for him. And that he would like it if he could say what he means with me,” Shane recounts.

His mom knocks her head gently into his, “Baby, I think he's just as silly about you as you are about him.”

“But if he needs his own time to figure it out he can take some,” dad says, “just not too long. Or your mom's head will explode.”

Shane gives a slight huff of a laugh. “I...I do like how things are now. I don't think we need to name it. Not yet. I mean...I'm still trying to figure out how I feel.”

His mom rubs his hand lightly, “Okay, baby.”

Shane sniffs a bit and wipes at his eyes, “I was actually going to ask... if it would be okay for him to come with us when we're all back in Ottawa? He was going to stay in Boston but there's just no one there an—”

“Of course he can come,” his dad says, laying a hand on his back, “we'd love it if he did.”

Shane is relieved and not surprised given everything but the moment he thinks of telling Ilya he realizes that he also has to tell him that his parents know. The panic that picks up in his chest feels like it might kill him.

“Shane, bud, what’s going on?” His dad asks, which must mean his panic is visible.

“Ilya is going to freak out when he finds out that I told you about us,” Shane mutters to his knees.

He feels both his parents' hands on him and maybe it would be overwhelming usually but it feels okay right now, it's something to concentrate on other than the open maw in his chest.

“We'll be here for you,” his mom whispers, “and for him if he needs us.”

“I feel like I betrayed him,” he whispers back.

His dad squeezes his shoulder, “This is about both of you. He wouldn't want you to lie about yourself.”

“Maybe he does,” he says softly, “isn't that kind of implied in the whole secret whatever this is?”

“Now, does that seem like Ilya?” His mom asks.

“I don’t know,” Shane sniffs. Granted, Ilya likes Shane’s parents. Seems to hold them in high regard. Maybe he would be afraid of how they would feel about him dating their only son.

His parents just hold him for a while and he appreciates that their reassurance is quiet and comforting and there. They don't try to promise him that everything is going to be okay, but it feels like it might be.

“I think... I think I'm going to get ready for bed,” he says, finally pulling away from their joint hug.

His mom does seem reluctant to let him go. But she does nod. “Okay, honey. Let us know if you need anything.”

“I will,” he promises.

“We love you,” she tells him for what feels like the hundredth time that night.

He tries to smile even though he still feels like his legs are shaking, “Love you both.”

He gets to his room and showers, tries to focus on that and just stops thinking but it's so difficult when there is nothing and no one to distract him. He climbs into bed and then looks at his phone. It's already morning in Florida, the girls were both going to be Cinderella today so they could match the castle. That meant around now, Ilya was awake and getting ready.

Shane doesn’t know what to do. He thinks he should tell Ilya that his parents know. It’s the right thing to do. However, he also doesn’t want to ruin Ilya’s vacation with his former coach’s family by dropping this on him. Not to mention, he’s afraid he will never hear from Ilya again. The strongest part of him just wanted to hear Ilya’s voice. Which…yeah, maybe it should have been obvious to him how deep he was.

Maybe he can just talk to him about the deer and the beautiful sights and how much he wishes Ilya were here and then - then when he does tell him, if Ilya wants to never talk to him outside of the ice ever again, he can remember his voice when he was pleased with Shane.

Taking a deep breath, he hits the call button. He waits and the phone is picked up by the second ring.

“Shane Hollander,” Ilya’s voice greets. And it is warm and happy.

“Hey,” he smiles, closing his eyes, “morning.”

“And why are you up so late past your bedtime?”

Shane swallows, “Just that kind of day. Are you already heading to the park?”

“The girls are still at the princess place getting the fairy dust,” he says, “which there cannot possibly be more room for more glitter in their hair, it will sparkle until they are thirty.”

This makes Shane laugh, which is exactly what he needed at this moment.

“Maybe the dust is biodegradable.”

“I do not know this word,” Ilya says.

“It means it breaks down over time or like with water, which means it won’t stay around forever,” Shane explains. “Are you going to get any pixie dust?”

“Of course you would know this,” Ilya huffs, the same tone he uses to call Shane boring. Fond. “And no, glitter would clash with curls.”

“That’s a shame. No Disney magic for you,” Shane smiles. “So…the plan is Magic Kingdom today?”

“Yes,” Ilya answers. “The girls want to meet as many princesses as possible.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” he says.

“Ah Jacob will make it happen,” Ilya says.

“Is that their dad?”

“Hmm no,” Ilya says, “Jacob is our guide. He wears little plaid vest and gets us into VIP places and knows where the best picture spots are.”

A stab of jealousy runs through Shane’s body. Which, again, is silly because Ilya isn’t exactly his. Still he can’t seem to help it when he says, “Jacob, huh?”

Ilya’s own tone comes back amused.

“Yes. Jacob,” he confirms. “Are you jealous, Hollander?”

“What? Why would I be jealous?”

“I do not know, Hollander, you do not know what Jacob looks like,” he says evenly, “could be balding man in his sixties.”

“Is he?”

“No, he is college student here in Florida, looks like a mouse but not like The Mouse,” Ilya tells him, “like his nose could do the mouse thing.”

Shane grinds his teeth lightly.

“Is that so?” He asks, trying not to sound like it’s through gritted teeth.

“Mm-hmm. He is very good with the girls and very knowledgeable,” Ilya adds.

“I mean…isn’t that part of his job?” Shane asks.

“It is…but it feels like he is best at it,” Ilya shares.

“You…must spend a lot of time with him,” Shane says.

“In the parks, yes. He is our guide. But…he does not play hockey and does not have freckles, so he can only be a friend,” Ilya muses.

“Oh is that the requirement?”

“Requirement, Hollander?”

“Yeah to be ...”

“Be what?”

“I don't know,” Shane sniffs, “I have those things and we are friends.”

“We are best friends, Holzy,” Ilya says and Shane knows that he's fucking with him but he's already so raw.

“Hayden is also my best friend,” he says flatly, “and he is not Russian and mean.”

“Hayden Pike is obnoxious,” Ilya immediately retorts. He sounds vaguely annoyed.

Ilya was trying to do something by bringing up his mousy tour guide, Shane just didn't know what it was. Maybe... maybe he wanted permission? That was dumb though because Ilya didn't need his permission.

“Well not everyone can be a trained Disney tour guide that knows everything and has a cute nose,” he huffs, sounding ridiculous to his own ears, feeling his face heat up, “I should go to sleep.”

There is a long pause, before Ilya asks, “Are you okay, Shane? Because I am just kidding about Jacob. He is nice, but I am not interested.”

He lets out a breath, “Yeah I just... it was a long day.”

“With the deers?”

“Deer,” he says, “one of the weird plural words.”

“Deer... they stress you out?”

He huffs a little laugh, “No, it's just me. I did it to myself.”

“Okay,” Ilya says gently, “so talk to me, let me help.”

“You have to go to the park,” he reminds him.

“I am paying thousands of dollars a day Shane, I can go when I want,” he tells him softly, “talk to me.”

“I just…wanted to hear your voice. And tell you about my day,” Shane says, swallowing around everything else.

“Okay,” Ilya says quietly. “How…was your day?”

It sounds awkward and a little stilted, but there’s something to it that still warms Shane.

“Well, as you probably saw, we did go to Nara. And fed some deer. They were cute, but very pushy,” Shane explains. “And you have to use the biscuits to like…communicate with them.”

“What did you say with your biscuits?”

Shane laughs at the way that sounds, “It just tells them to come forward and get fed, then you have to show them when you don't have any more or they get aggravated.”

“But you can get more biscuits,” Ilya reasons.

“I did like twice,” Shane tells him.

“Why did you not get more?” Ilya asks.

“Because mom wanted to check out the shrine, and I had already spent 400 yen,” Shane says. “Oh…but the coolest thing is that sometimes the deer bow to ask for food.”

“That is impressive. How was the shrine?” Ilya asks.

“Oh, that was pretty cool too,” he says. He talks about the four deities that are enshrined there and the museum with all the swords and armor.

When he glances at the bedside clock he realizes he's kept Ilya on the phone for almost half an hour, “Fuck you gotta go and I gotta sleep.”

“It is past your bedtime,” Ilya teases. It’s a little softer this time. “I…I am glad that your day was good. And…I am glad to hear from you.”

“Have a fun time today,” he wishes back, “I... can't wait to see you again.”

“Me too,” Ilya says and it sounds like maybe he holds a word back, “goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Ilya,” he wishes. They hang up, and Shane has to laugh at the fact that he does feel better, at least a little, just talking to Ilya. Having his undivided attention. He does feel guilty about not telling him everything, but right now Shane needs to sit with it.

It does take some time, but eventually he does end up falling asleep.

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

It is the day the girls have been waiting for: Magic Kingdom. They are excited, twirling around in their Cinderella gowns. Ilya does his best to stay engaged and pay attention. However, his brain drifts back to the conversation with Shane. It is obvious that something was bothering him. And maybe not just because Ilya was teasing him about his jealousy toward Jacob. It hasn’t sat well with him since he hung up.

Ilya had expected that if anything were to go wrong during the trip it would be about their family there, but that day had seemed fine - happy. Maybe there had been a conversation after. Maybe Yuna didn't want to keep the same closeness with their family that Shane was so obviously excited about. Or maybe David had not understood what this meant to Yuna and Shane. Neither seemed likely, but he couldn't imagine what else would bring Shane's mood down on such a seemingly normal day feeding deer in a beautiful place with his family.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Jacob’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“Hm?” Ilya asks, before shaking his head. “It is nothing. Just enjoying park day.” Jacob nods, though he doesn’t look absolutely convinced. 

“Okay, it just seemed like you were thinking about something really hard.”

“I am,” he confesses, “but is not very magical thought.”

The girls are running from their father toward a churro cart and Jacob grinned, “Hold that non-magical thought, I can make most things magical.”

Jacob approached the churro cart without running but with surprising speed for someone in a vest in Florida in June. He waved his hands over the girls and the churro cart attendant smiled and offered the girls their snacks without question and without waiting for Wiebe or anyone to pay her. Jacob just did that sometimes, let attendants know the girls and the rest of them were with him and things just weren't purchases anymore, just magical gifts (that Ilya had already paid for 100 times over). He made his way back to Ilya as the girls showed off their magical “free” churros to their mom and dad.

“So, my boss is really strict about people not being sad in the parks,” he says seriously, “we need to fix this.”

“Oh, will the Mouse come and wag his finger at you for letting big Russian man be a little sad,” Ilya asks.

“Absolutely. It’s scary when Mickey Mouse is upset. He means serious business,” Jacob jokes back. Though, Ilya knows that it is likely the customer relations boss who would be upset. “So, what can we do?”

He shakes his head and media smiles, “Keep girls happy, do not let them notice.”

Jacob looks like he wants to ask or do more but he nods, “I can absolutely do that.”

“Thank you, Jacob,” Ilya tells him sincerely.

“Of course,” Jacob nods and flushes just slightly. And he wasn’t lying to Shane. Jacob is nice and has an adorable mouse-like quality to him. He appreciates the way that he interacts with the girls. But Ilya is not interested in Jacob.

Maybe he would be in a different world where he had not met Shane Hollander when he was 18 years old and as Svetlana said 'altered his brain chemistry' so now this perfectly attractive sweet man had no chance with Ilya and wasn't that just tragic for everyone. Wouldn't it be easier for him and Shane if they felt this for anyone other than each other? But they don't, so Ilya is not interested in Jacob or Sveta or anyone else who would make his life easier. He just wants Shane and he wants to know that he's okay and he cannot stop thinking about what might be wrong, the happiest place on earth or not.

He sighs and refocuses his attention on what Jacob is telling the girls about the castle. Apparently there was a suite up in the castle that used to be reserved for special guests and events. It just reminds him of his joke to Shane about buying him the castle as a summer home.

He stays lost in his mind during the day until he spots the picture spot for Winnie the Pooh and remembers what Yuna had text him back when he asked.

“Mouse Guide Jacob,” he says very seriously, “I need very cheesy picture with the baby characters over there.”

“Pooh and everyone? Yeah absolutely,” he says.

“But you understand, Jacob? Very cheesy. It is gift for friend who is too serious about everything and needs to know that I know that he cries when he hears Winnie Pooh song because his mamma told me.”

Jacob smiles with understanding and some curiosity. “I can absolutely do that for you.”

Ilya watches as Jacob goes over to the attendant and talks with him. He then comes back with a smile.

“Okay, so we might have to wait just a bit, let the line finish. And then we will be called over.”

They take pictures that are all Disney approved but are also quite choreographed. They even bring out oversized sunglasses for all of them to wear. It is exactly as ridiculous as he wants it to be to surprise Shane. He debates on whether to send him the digital copies or if he should do something like an album or frame. He decides he'll take the frame and make it the center of all the random things he has picked up for Shane during the trip, Jacob even suggests that he have it all professionally wrapped and shipped back to Ottawa for 'maximum magic'.

“I like your style, Jacob,” Ilya grins and decides to do exactly that. Though that will have to be taken care of at the hotel, since some of the things he has gotten Shane are back there.

At some point, the girls finish collecting the pictures with and autographs of every single Princess (and prince) at the park and remember that Ilya exists. They each ask to be carried by him and even play rock, paper, scissors to see who goes first. The girls are exhausted but they insist on watching the fireworks so they decide to take them back to the hotel and have grown-ups dinner before going back to the park to see the fireworks show. He decidedly does not cry - this time - not like he did in the show at Hollywood Studios, but it is beautiful. And like every firework show this week and probably for the rest of his life, it makes him think of kissing Shane.

He sends a video of the fireworks to Shane, though decides to not make a comment. Soon they are over. And it is time to go back to the hotel for the final night. Jacob, ever the gentleman, escorts them back.

Right before they climb into the car, Jacob blinks and pulls out a phone. “I am so sorry,” he whispers, “I shouldn't have my personal phone but my boyfriend has a cold and he's being a huge baby. Would it be okay if I take this call for one minute?”

Ilya blinks in surprise, but makes a gesture for Jacob to take the call. “Make sure he is okay,” he says.

It was so incredibly easy. Jacob who is at work, told someone he doesn't really know that he has a boyfriend that he is worried about. And Ilya... Ilya has someone who is on his mind all day and who he is also worried about and he can't even say that. He could not even answer Jacob earlier by saying 'my boyfriend sounded sad last night and I'm worried' because 1. Shane is not his boyfriend 2. no one can know he and Shane are anything more than unlikely friends and 3. it did not even occur to him that would be a normal thing to casually say to a person.

Part of him wishes that he could have that. Even if that is not the nature of his and Shane's relationship. Not that he wants that to change. Things are working the way that they are. He just wishes that sometimes things were easier. But there is the NHL to worry about. And Shane cares very much about his image and his position.

And then even if none of that was a problem, the last thing he needs is people asking questions about his personal life and finding out everything else that he's hiding. Things are not easy because Ilya is not easy, he is what brings all this difficulty, not Shane.

“He's fine,” Jacob says with a smile, “I'm so sorry about that.”

“It's no problem,” he says and he wishes that it could be true for him too, “is good of you to check even if he is being big baby.”

“You're like...surprisingly cool about it,” Jacob points out. “I don't think I could have taken that call with any other visitor.”

Ilya gives a shrug, trying to be as casual as he can be.

“I just think it is important to take care of people you care about. Sometimes that means you take call at work.”

When they get back to the hotel, Harper in his arms, he asks Jacob to wait while he brings down the gifts to be packaged and also his tip. He comes down with the things and also an envelope with a probably obscene tip inside of it. Jacob is a polite man who is not going to open it here but he has hands and can feel it so his eyes go really big.

“Ilya,” he starts.

Ilya shakes his head. “No, you did excellent job for past week. This is for making it the best week for the twins and for making sure the Wiebes were stress free. And for the Winnie Pooh thing.”

“This is still like three times what it should be,” he says.

“Good, I am ... how do they say - extravagant European,” he smiles then lifts his bags, “I just will give you the address, yes?”

Jacob nods, “Yes and a note. You go this hard on gifts for someone I think a note is important, right?”

Ilya agrees and takes the thick cardstock paper that Jacob gets from somewhere at the front desk with the nice gold emblem of the hotel and he writes, Капитан, One thing for every time I wished you were here. -Илья

“What do you think, good?” Jacob holds a hand to his chest,

“Uh, yes, I think if I got this and a box of like fifty adorable trinkets I would cry. It's good.”

“Good, good. Is my goal. Though, happy tears,” Ilya reassures.

“This must be going to someone pretty special then,” Jacob guesses.

Ilya feels his throat tighten up a little bit, not because he's scared, but because it's true. He nods silently.

“I'll make sure it's beautiful,” Jacob promises, “I hope it was a wonderful time for you all.”

“It was,” Ilya says, “thank you.”

They say goodbye and Ilya heads up and checks his phone and closes his eyes again. In response to the fireworks picture, Shane has sent a picture of the sunrise over the most amazing views.

Ilya smiles and saves this photo as well. He responds with, I hope this is a good day for you. I am headed home tomorrow. As usual, it takes a while for Shane to type out his response. Eventually it comes back with a, Thank you. We'll be leaving Japan in a few days. Then there is a long moment before another typing bubble pops up. Ilya waits patiently for whatever Shane might have to say. It is not what he expected. Can I visit you in Boston, when we come back?

Ilya widens his eyes at the phone like it will give him more comment on what Shane has just said. Of course he types back. He doesn't allow his mind to go anywhere. He does not try to connect any string from Shane's sad worried voice and this change of plans. Shane will still go to Ottawa first because he needs to do laundry and probably eat nothing but spinach for a week so he will get Ilya's gift and maybe he will change his mind about whatever it is he wants to come all the way to Boston to say, but Ilya doesn't type anything else. He just buries his phone under his pillow and turns on the TV and makes it really loud so he doesn't think instead.

The following morning finds him and the Wiebes at the airport. They are headed back to Toronto, while Ilya is headed back to Boston. He is hugged tightly by the two girls who seem teary to leave him behind. Wiebe pats him on his shoulder, telling him it was good seeing him and wishing him a good season. Allison hugs him last, the two of them rocking back and forth for a second.

“You take care of yourself, you hear,” she orders.

“Yes, ma'am,” he answers diligently.

“And I will look into what we talked about. So, expect a call,” Allison tells him.

He nods and boards his plane and tries to watch a Fast and the Furious movie with all of his attention. He can't let himself think about what it is Shane wants to come to Boston for. He can't let himself wonder if it's good or bad or anything at all. But eventually he's back at Logan and then on the car home and it's empty because Sveta is in Moscow and Marleau is in New Orleans with his parents.

He texts Shane, telling him he got home safe. Then, he turns his phone off. Grabbing his regular skates, he makes his way out to the polyglide rink. He just needs some time to focus on something other than Shane Hollander. 

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

Shane cannot stop thinking about how he's going to explain this to Ilya. Shane has never even brought up telling his parents. He hasn't in fact said anything really other than how he feels about Ilya. Which says everything doesn't it? Maybe if he tells Ilya in French it'll count and Ilya won't kick him out and tell him to never darken his doorstep again. And then of course, just a few days later, the package arrives. It is kind of enormous.

His parents crowd curiously around the counter when he brings it inside.

“Is that from Ilya?” his mom asks, her eyebrows raised.

“Uh...yeah. All the way from Disney World,” he says. He's kind of nervous to open it now, actually. Doesn't know how he'll react. Especially if Ilya's gift giving is actually very thoughtful and considerate like he pretends not to be.

He's also a little worried about opening it in front of his parents but Ilya did send it here and from the actual resort so it shouldn't have like... a dildo in it. He opens it and finds that there's really nice gift wrapping inside.

“Oh, Shane let me take a picture of it before you unwrap it, that's just beautiful,” his mom asks.

He waits for his mom to collect her phone and take a picture. He also decides to take a picture of his own because it is really nice. With a smile, his mom encourages him to open it. The first thing that he sees is the picture.

“Oh my God,” he says as he realizes that Ilya somehow found out that Shane has too many feelings about Winnie Pooh, “mom.”

“He asked about your favorite! Oh, those are some adorable pictures,” she coos.

In the main framed picture, Ilya has somehow convinced Winnie the Pooh and Tigger into a faceoff. They are both wearing sunglasses. Ilya is standing where the referee would be, grinning.

He pulls it out of the box and sets it aside. Directly under the frame and sitting over a ton of other individually wrapped items there's an envelope. His mom steps back, giving him some room to read it without standing over his shoulder. It's just a heavy cardstock note with the hotel's letterhead.

Капитан, One thing for every time I wished you were here. -Илья

There are...a lot of items in the box. He looks back down at the simple note and presses it to his chest. The feelings that come with it are overwhelming. And he thinks about his mom's words: That boy is as silly about you as you are for him. With a gift and note like this? It's hard not to believe Shane's alone in his feelings.

The note is even heavier in meaning when he realizes there are like dozens of things in this box, from keychains to plushies, t-shirts and hats. There is just so much stuff in here. One thing for every time. This is Ilya telling him he wanted him there the whole time.

Many of the items are related to Shane's favorite characters. He picks up one of the plush animals to find it is a version of Winnie the Pooh that looks like the illustration from the original books. With each reveal, Shane feels a growing need to book a ticket to Boston now.

By the end the counter is a mess of wrapping paper and gifts. Shane gathers and throws out the paper and then moves to take all his things to his room and give them perfect places to exist. He takes the frame of pictures first and sets it on his otherwise empty dresser. Once everything is put away, he takes the little Pooh Bear with him to his desk and books his ticket.

Quickly, he texts Ilya, letting him know that he'll be coming down to Boston in a couple of days' time.

Lily: Okay, though I thought you would want to spend some time with your parents in Ottawa before season starts

Shane shakes his head. He spent the entire past two weeks with his parents in Japan. Now he wants nothing more than to spend time with Ilya. And maybe demand what the fuck this is all supposed to mean. He doesn't know yet.

Shane: I spent two weeks with my parents in Japan. And now I want to come to Boston.

Lily: How long will you stay?

He thinks about it. He thinks that maybe even a day ago he would have wondered if Ilya asked because he had other plans, other people to bring to his house and his bed. But right now he feels brave.

Shane: As long as I'm welcome.

Lily: You are always welcome

Shane smiles at the text. Though part of him wonders how long that will be true. Because a part of him does know that Ilya is likely going to freak out when he finds out that Shane's parents know. But...maybe it will be okay if he explains that the only thing they do know is Shane's feelings and that he and Ilya have been intimate.

Which once he thinks about it is a pretty mortifying thing for his parents to know. He groans quietly and tries not to think of it until he's face to face with him again.

Thankfully, the past couple of days seems to fly by and eventually he is back on a plane. This time he touches down in Boston. He grabs a cab at the airport and gives the driver Ilya’s address. When he is dropped off, he grabs his bags, takes a deep breath and knocks on Ilya's door.

He can hear music inside and then he can hear the music stop and then Ilya is there, opening the door wide.

“Hollander,” he says, his smile so bright and wide.

Shane feels a swell in his chest at seeing Ilya for the first time in two weeks. For the first time since he was given the most thoughtful and heartfelt gift he's ever received. He can feel the smile pulling at his lips and just following an urge, he hugs Ilya.

He pulls him into the house with his hug and it doesn't feel like the touch is asking for anything, it only feels like he's giving into the same need that Shane has felt this entire time.

Eventually, one of them lets go first, though Shane doesn't know who. Ilya goes over to properly close the door.

“So, Holzy...how was flight? Are you hungry?”

Shane only feels his smile stay, recognizing this as Ilya's tendency to want to take care.

“I could eat,” he easily agrees. He hadn't eaten since this morning. “I am starting my macrobiotic diet again. You know, to prepare for the season.”

Ilya shakes his head, “No please Shane, not the sad food.”

“It's not sad it's ... optimizing,” he says.

“Fine,” he sighs, “I have some things you can eat.”

“You remember the —”

“Yes, I remember,” he says as he walks toward the kitchen, “sad fish, raw vegetables.”

Shane follows after him. He continues to feel the warmth that comes with spending time with Ilya. He knows that Ilya doesn't think much of any diets and tends to eat whatever he wants, though leans healthier during the season. But, it still makes him happy that Ilya both remembers--despite his wording of it--and is willing to make him something that accommodates it.

“I got your gift,” he says while Ilya cooks, which is crazy, really - why would Ilya cook much less cook for Shane? But he is and it's... it's so much.

“Did you? You did not say,” he says, “thought maybe was lost.”

“I wanted to tell you what I thought in person,” Shane says.

“Oh? And?” Ilya asks, raising an eyebrow at Shane.

“It was the best gift I've ever gotten from someone who wasn't my parents,” he says.

 Ilya hums, seemingly focused on his cooking.

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“Look at me,” Shane says. Ilya looks over his shoulder and then rolls his eyes but his smile is undeniable when he notices the little Pooh Bear balanced on Shane's shoulder.

“Okay so you liked it,” Ilya says, turning back to his cooking but holding himself a little taller.

Shane takes a deep breath, pulling at some of his courage.

“I loved it.” Ilya pauses in his cooking again.

“Well, at first,” Shane continues, “I was mortified because I thought you would have maybe made a joke about my favorite character. But then...well...you didn't.”

“Is not allowed to make fun of the characters, Shane, The Mouse is very serious about this,” he waves his spatula around.

“Oh, yeah, I'm sure that you, Ilya Rozanov, were scared of Mickey Mouse,” Shane rolls his eyes.

“You did not see him in park. He is massive. Biggest Mouse I have seen. Very strictly enforces Happiest Place on Earth. Would terrorize Cheburashka,” Ilya says.

“And Cheburashka is not overly concerned with constant happiness?”

Ilya looks at him like he's a moron, “Cheburashka is Soviet, Shane Hollander.”

He plates what he has been working on and honestly it looks amazing, within the bounds of what it is. It looks like seared flounder with sesame with steamed veggies and a few lemon wedges.

“Thanks, this looks great,” Shane says. “So...I have been meaning to ask, what even is Cheburashka?”

Ilya shrugs, “He is unknown creature. But he is like...silly little baby who just wants friendship. And he is superior to Disney Mouse.”

“Sounds sweet,” Shane smiles as he starts to eat. It's good, much more pleasant than other people's attempt at what his diet permits.

“Reminds me a little of you, Hollander, maybe not as cute,” Ilya says.

“Fuck you,” Shane laughs.

“Maybe later,” Ilya smirks back. “I make fresh flounder for you, so I expect you eat that first.”

“How did you just have this?”

“You said you were coming,” Ilya shrugs, “I can hope you are no longer attached to stupid sad diet and still prepare.”

Shane presses his foot on top of Ilya’s just slightly.

“Thanks, Ilya.”

“You can thank me by eating your sad fish and vegetables and maybe rethink dieting,” Ilya grumbles, but Shane can see the way his ears go pink.

Shane finishes his food while Ilya eats a sandwich and then grabs his toiletries bag so he can brush his teeth. He stares at himself in the bathroom mirror and takes a deep breath.

“Don't put it off,” he tells himself, “you got what you got, just tell him.”

By the time he exits the bathroom, Ilya has migrated to the couch. Shane goes over to join him and finds himself immediately pulled into Ilya, his head resting on his chest.

He feels selfish in this but he needs it so much, he lies there and listens to Ilya's heart for maybe too long. He wonders if they can fall asleep like this, if he says nothing at all, is it still putting it off?

“Shane,” Ilya says quietly, “your brain is so loud.”

“Sorry,” Shane apologizes. He knows now that Ilya caught him thinking, which he somehow is always able to, the truth will come out.

“Just tell me what is making your mind so busy,” Ilya says. He doesn't even sound bothered. So, Shane just blurts it out.

“My parents know about us.”

The way Ilya tenses is almost violent. He isn't sure if he should get up and give him room or hold on tighter.

Ilya's voice is barely a whisper, “What?”

“They know about us...they know I like men. No. They know I like you,” he says, not moving, barely breathing.

“When...when did they find out?” Ilya asks.

“Our...um...our last few days in Japan,” Shane says.

Shane can actually hear the way Ilya's heart speeds up because he hasn't moved, ear pressed to his chest.

“Say something,” he whispers and he badly wants to cling to him but what if Ilya wants him gone? And then ... then he feels Ilya's arm tighten around him, he feels a kiss pressed to the top of his head.

Ilya's voice is shaky and strangled when he says, “Don't be afraid, you are here now. It will be okay.”

At first, Shane is immediately relieved that Ilya has not kicked him out. That in fact, Ilya is holding him tighter. But then his brain processes the words that Ilya has said and he sits up just slightly to look at him. And maybe he's not exactly the best at recognizing emotion, but he can see how clearly concerned and scared Ilya looks.

“I mean...yeah, it's going to be okay. What...what do you mean?”

Ilya sits up and takes his hands, “Your parents are good, Shane. Whatever they said...it was shock. They love you. But until then you have me, okay? You will not be alone.”

Shane blinks at Ilya in confusion. It's a sweet sentiment, but...he thinks now there has been some misunderstanding.

“I know they love me. They told me that when they found out.”

He can see Ilya's confusion. All of the comfort he had offered Shane pulled away like a tide. He takes his hands away and Shane feels empty.

“So home is safe,” he half says half asks, “they did not...say things that hurt you.”

“No...no they didn't,” Shane says, frowning lightly. He watches Ilya wrap his arms around himself. He nods once and stands, facing away. “Ilya —”

Ilya shakes his head once. His body is tense and tight and suddenly he disappears farther into his house before Shane can even get up off the couch. Shane feels...like something has been taken from him. He feels cold and awkward and he doesn't know what to do. He's so confused and overwhelmed.

A door closes and then another. He hears Ilya's feet on a staircase. Is there a way of the house other than the front door? There must be. Maybe the garage. Maybe he will take one of his too fast cars and drive away and stay away until Shane takes the hint and leaves.

Shane sits there for a long time, quietly. Waiting for the sound of a car to start and rip out of the neighborhood. But it never comes. It's oddly very quiet. Which means...that Ilya hasn't left the property. And as sick as Shane still feels about how this has unfolded, part of him is still relieved that he can follow Ilya.

He thinks the steps went down, not up. What's down there beside the garage is the polyglide Ilya used to practice. That's exactly where he finds him, but as he stands silently in the doorway he can see that Ilya isn't running drills or aiming practice shots. Ilya is skating. Arms outstretched, legs in perfect lines, throwing himself into the air. Then he falls. It's harsh and scary to see and Shane is already running forward when Ilya gets up and does it again and again and again. He cannot stay in the air but he will not stop trying until suddenly he does, he falls and stays down.

Ilya just lies there on the polyglide. His hands are covering his face and his body is shaking. From emotion or exertion, Shane isn't entirely certain. But either way, Shane has an impetus to go to him and comfort him in the same way Ilya was going to comfort him. He steps out onto the polyglide and walks over to where Ilya is. Carefully, he lowers himself down to sit next to the other man. And because he is afraid he cannot take Ilya's hands without potentially causing more injury, Shane decides instead to hesitantly run a hand through Ilya's curls.

Ilya's breath shudders through his whole body but he seems to need that.

“I'm sorry,” Shane whispers, “I would never have said anything without talking to you if they hadn't... they already knew.”

Ilya is quiet. It's the quietest that Shane has ever known him, except maybe when Ilya had first been introduced to the Canadian National team. So, he continues.

“My dad talked with me first. And...and at first, I thought they were mad. But he kept saying that he just wanted me to be happy and they guessed that...well, that I enjoy spending time with you in... well, in not just a best friend way. And...so I told them about...my feelings about things and how we weren't just friends. But...I swear that's all I told them.”

Ilya still doesn't move except for the rise and fall of his chest. Still, he hasn't pushed away Shane's hand in his hair and that gives him hope.

“They know you are here?”

Shane lets out a breath, “Yes.”

Ilya's breath stops, “They told you to stop this? This is why you came? To do it in person like gentleman?”

“What? No. I mean…I asked them the same question and they said no. But I came here because I wanted to be here,” Shane tells him.

Ilya removes his arm from his face and finally looks at Shane, “They hate me?”

“What? No! No, no, no, not even a little bit. They just... I guess I was being really obvious and they wanted me to be honest with them and I know it wasn't just my secret to tell but I swear I only told them how I feel about you and that we're...something. I didn't say anything else.”

“Because they would hate me if they knew,” he says, “is too much. I am too fucking much.”

“No…I don’t think so. Both of my parents said it made sense. My mom said that you’re “a lovely and beautiful boy” so of course I’d…become involved with you,” Shane says. “All they asked is if you were good to me.”

Ilya pushes himself off the polyglide and away from Shane's hand in his hair and pulls his knees up. Ilya is too tall to curl up so small.

“But if they knew everything they would hate me,” he whispers.

Shane continues to sit across from him. He sets his hands on Ilya’s knees.

“They wouldn’t. I know my parents and they wouldn’t hate you. The only reason I didn’t tell them about you is because that’s not my place.”

“They will ask why I cannot just be girl and then there would not be secret or problem or—”

“Ilya they wouldn't that's... they wouldn't because you aren't,” he says squeezing his knees.

“Yes, I know that but people will ask why I make things so difficult why I could not stay as I was—”

“No, they wouldn't. Not my parents, not anyone with a working brain, not anyone who matters,” he says firmly and then he reaches out slowly and pulls Ilya's chin up so he can look at him, “okay?”

Ilya stares back at him, apparently still determined to think that he’s the problem.

“You aren’t making anything difficult. You aren’t too much. You’re just being you,” Sane tells him.

“Вы говорите это так, будто тот факт, что я не прав, никогда раньше не приводил к смерт” he says and Shane has no idea what it means but it sounds heartbreakingly miserable.

He wishes he knew more Russian than just the basics. Wants to be able to comfort Ilya better.

“I…I don’t know what that means, I’m sorry. But…but it seems like you’re really upset and maybe…scared? I don’t know. But what I mean to say is that my parents don’t hate you and they’re not mad at me and…and I’m here and you’re safe.”

 Ilya lays a hand on Shane's cheek and looks at him so devastated that Shane thinks he might cry.

 “This time,” he says, “is fine this time.”

 “Yes. And the next time. And the next. And…and if someone has an issue with you, I know how to throw down a glove,” Shane tells him.

Ilya gives him a look, it's bitchy and disbelieving and it lets Shane know he is going to be okay.

“Never have you thrown down glove,” he says. 

“But I can and I will,” he says, pressing their foreheads together.

“That would ruin your golden boy reputation,” Ilya answers back.

“Mmm…for my best friend? Worth it,” Shane retorts back.

“For your best friend, mmm yes “ Ilya agrees but...but it isn't enough and they both know it. Shane bites his lip and then pushes himself forward to kiss Ilya. It feels like pushing his head out of the water and finally breathing again.

“No, for this,” he says against Ilya's mouth, “always this.”

It takes a moment, but Ilya finally starts kissing him back. And it feels like everything is right with the world again. He feels Ilya start to slowly uncurl from his protective position and pushes closer, practically straddling his lap on the polyglide rink.

They kiss for probably too long in this ridiculous position until Ilya pulls himself away and stands, “Come to bed. I have waited too long.”

Shane pulls himself to his feet. He patiently waits as Ilya undoes his skates. Part of him thinks to ask to watch him skate later. When he’s not in a distressed mood. When Ilya is ready, Shane follows him up to his bedroom. In a matter of seconds, Ilya picks him up and deposits him on the bed.

Finally, finally, everything feels right. Ilya over him, the feeling of his lips on Shane's neck, the whisper of space between them that will disappear in moments. It feels perfect and right and home.