Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander, Original Characters, Yuna Hollander, David Hollander, Farah Jalali, Cliff Marlow, Hayden Pike, Jackie Pike

Additional Tags:

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Hockey, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Omega Shane Hollander, Alpha Ilya Rozanov, Not Beta Read, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, alternative universe, Texting, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alpha/Omega, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love

Language:

English

Collections:

Hollanov ABO, my hr boys

Stats:

Published: 2025-11-07 Completed: 2026-02-16 Words: 78,348 Chapters: 31/31

The Stars We Dream Upon

Summary

In a world where omegas can’t play in the major leagues, Shane is stuck in the omega/beta league. He is one of the best players, but his dream had always been to create a path for himself and others to play in the major leagues. His fighting has been a lot behind the scenes, but a surprising Instagram post from Ilya Rozanov an Alpha playing for Boston in the NHL, causes his life and mission to take a surprising turn.

On the other hand, Ilya is getting bored and wants to find joy in the sport again. Little did he know that making a social media post about an omega hockey player would blow up in a whole social media discourse would change his life forever.

Notes

Overview of my writing style:

I typically write Alpha and Omega fics. I do have a dream of writing an Shane and Ilya Alpha/Alpha fic, but I saw not able to sleep one night this week and this whole plot came to me, so you get it first. I hope that you do not mind and that I can still stay true to the story.
Note that my fics tend to be longer. This story will have dual POV with every other chapter.
The story is being reshaped. I am taking some of the characters of Rachel Reid. However, I rework the story. Keep this in mind as you read. I am also trying to keep Shane and Ilya consistent; however, Rachel Reid did an awesome job with Ilya and his struggles with English so well that I fear I will not be able to match that.
Keep in mind as well there will be some hate towards omegas throughout the fic. People are not so nice to them. Also Shane can have kids and produce slick….and all the other omega things. If you have read omega fics, you are prepared for this, but for those of you that don’t, Ilya will have a knot…so….you’ve been warned.
There will be some sex scenes as well, but I also have a whole story and plot. This means that I try to balance both and will warn before sex scenes.
Also cursing and rudeness and even some injuries will be throughout the fic. I will try to warn of other things like eating disorders and depression when they show up.
Finally, I do tend to private my fics after a few chapters.

Further warning about this fic:
I plan to finish every fic. This isn’t an exception. I wanted to write a Heated Rivalry Fic because I can’t watch the show. (Why Crave, why?) And so, this is my way to kind of settle myself. I have two big fics that I am working on though. This is my like my side project (and I don’t know why I do this to myself), so I will only update sporadically.
Finally, I know very little about hockey, so….sorry if you are a devout hockey fan. I will always take suggestions about hockey in the comments, and I will be doing research. However, just know I am inexperienced in this area.

Chapter 1: Shane: You Play Even If You Are Tired

Shane grinds his heel into the ice taking a sharp turn before racing up the ice with an easy sway of his muscles. His puck sways as he works his way up. The puck sways under his rule. He does another set. Another set. Up and down the ice. His body burns in the flowing lush of scraping ice and humming dim lights and aching blades. Everything is peace. His second home is the ice. His parents love telling the stories of him getting his legs and begging to be back like it was his only home.

It's still his home.

After a few more sprints, he sets up for shots. One after another. He collects the pucks. Then again. One after another he fires.

An hour later, he gets changed and out of the skates. He stretches before going back out.

Shane leans against the Zamboni. Since its before other staff are here, he works to get the ice smoothed for the practice for the team. The machine has a funny grind to it under him. Not, funny, that’s the wrong word, because he knows it, it’s familiar, but it’s so different then how the ice feels on skates. He’s been playing since five this morning. He’s running on coffee, and the other Montreal Stars will be here for training at seven.

Then at eleven, they have the four- to six-year-olds here to start basic skating lessons from them with the school as a part of PE. Parents can sign them up for weekly lessons and that will happen afterwards. Then the club will have a lesson at one for four- to six-year-olds. Then he can take a short nap. Then after elementary kids getting out of school.

Next comes the intermediate group as they met on Tuesday, Thursdays and Sundays. Of course, there are competitions, but those are typical training nights for the next few weeks. Then he’ll help out with the local high school hockey team as an assistant coach. And finally, their will be another round of training before he shuts down and falls to sleep. Literally collapsing into bed isn’t healthy, but he has some of the summer off. He’ll sleep most of that time.

He shakes his head. He’s got this. The yawn burns before he parks. He lays down in the office for a few minutes. The bang on the door jolts him up. Philip Thompson stands with coffee. He holds one out without a word to Shane. The omega takes it before yawning and then sipping on the cup of coffee that starts to burn more adrenaline.  

By the time he gets in his gear, the young pups show up. Some barely know how to stand on the ice while others may have learned to move on the ice before they could talk. Shane is the main teacher. He’s floated a few different random people. They have a part time retired hockey player: Philip Thompson. Then in the afternoon there are teens that come in and help. They play hockey as well but just assist. They had recently lost their other longstanding coach. She retired in her sixties.

They had recently hired the new Montreal Stars player to help coach as well. She’s awesome. Naomi has literally been a lifesaver. It does weigh on him that there is another person who is having to have a second job on the omega team because it doesn’t pay well to go onto the NHL. This is the third year that Shane has spilt his life between playing hockey and having a second job. He did get drafted into the Montreal Stars young at seventeen, which looks good until you are twenty getting close to twenty-one and winning your league but nothing happening with his appeals to be in the “normal” hockey aka the one without omegas. Mostly alphas, a few betas but no omegas.

Stinks.

As a child, he thought he could maybe change it. Turn it around and let omegas be involved but instead he’s on an omega league as well as a few beta women. Basically, the weaker according to the league and society, and really, it’s all fucking horrible, and Shane would love to break free. Instead, he shoves it down and smile.

Naomi comes out cheering with the kids. It’s just the basics. Sometimes they have higher levels with kids having skated for a while, meaning the variety is tough. At the same time, they are all adorable trying to keep their feet under them and holding those little mini hockey sticks.

Call Shane dorky, but there is something nice that he can do this. He’s making enough to afford his apartment and car and the trips that the team can’t cover and saving up for another attorney, which is dumb, not that anyone says it. He’ll win one of these times.

The big kids aren’t as cute.

They are still nice and can really start showing their skills but not as cute or as nice to the teachers including or especially omega ones.

The teens can be very sarcastic. It doesn’t help that many are getting to be taller than Shane even though he’s around 5’10, which is tall for an omega whose average height is usually close to 5’6. Maybe working with the local hockey team is close and allows him to play on the ice and even try and strategize for his own games, but they don’t respect him at all. He wishes that Naomi would take it up, but she has a special ad campaign with Bauer this season which has helped so that she doesn’t have to keep adding jobs on. She will sub at times and even do private lessons. Shane’s done that over the summer when they have some time off.

Finally, he reaches his own practice, and he’s alive. He’s on that ice flying. He’s doing everything he loves. He’s burning through it.

They have their first game next Monday. He’ll be on fire burning up the ice. Then they have a game on Wednesday. He’s skating. Flowing like a river. The puck and stick are a part of his body.

When he finally leaves the ice, he’s aching but jokes with his fellow hockey mates from Ben, who is another male omega and Angie who is a female beta and their goalie. They joke about their day as Ben works as a waiter part time and Angie currently works as a mechanic part time. They leave and Shane sits in his car.

He goes home to a quiet little apartment. Everything blends together. His phone rings as he’s cooking some salmon, potatoes in the oven, and making a salad. He answers it putting it on speaker.

“Hey Farah,” he says.

“Shane, I have amazing news.”

Shane glances at his phone before getting out the carrots. “What’s up?”

“Adidas wants you to be part of their new campaign.”

He stares at his phone before leaning to the side.

“Can you say that again?”

“They want to be part of their ad campaign. They have been seeing your running pictures and want to sponsor you.”

Those posts did do well on social media, but enough to sponsor him? “Really?”

“Yes, Adidas is always looking for new athletes and recently you talking about you running a lot and having those Adidas, they think that it would look good to have you included on their roster of athletes.”

That would be so much money. Enough money that he could take more time off. Maybe he could save up enough to not coach next season or another lawyer or take extra time off or… “Can I see the contract?” Because he can’t get ahead of himself. They often try to screw over omegas, but Farah wouldn’t have told him if she hadn’t combed it over. As an omega herself, she always has his back.

“Sending it your way. Read over it. We make any tweaks. They would love a photoshoot.” Farah pauses. “It’s looking good. I think this could be a big win.”

“Thank you,” because this is Farah reaching out for Shane. He couldn’t do it without her.

Shane immediately calls his parents. Yuna, his mom answers, “Hey, baby, what’s up? We can’t wait to watch you game.”

Shane feels like a water balloon bursting.

“Shane.”

“I’m going to be part of Adidas.”

“Adidas?” his mom gasps.

“Yes, they want me in their new ad campaign.”

His mom cheers then yells to his dad. “David. David. Shane has news. Here, take the phone.”

Shane blushes because his parents are so adorable.

They are cheering for him. He sends them the contract, and they read it together. It seems great. They want three different photoshoots this season since he’s predicted to win with the Montreal Stars again if he has a season like last. He’s might be ranked number one now that Margaret Hutcherson retired last year. He’ll at least be in the top five again.

Shane is bubbling as he comes into the rink. After he does his practice, he can’t rest, so he starts working on the equipment.

“What has you grinning?” Naomi says with her bag swung on her back.

He glances before shouting. “I got a deal with Adidas.”

Naomi shouts hugging Shane. “Look at you. Look at you.”

The whole team cheers for him. A win for one of them is a win for everyone. The rink lets him take the personal two days to go to fly out and take the photos. He can’t believe when he sees a billboard of himself in Montreal. That’s him. That’s freaking him. If that doesn’t help with publicity, what will.

Several magazines and newspapers reach out.

He mentions his plan to move onto the NHL which as always then blows up on social media.

Adidas doesn’t seem to mind because the ad is floating with every debate on whether or not omegas should be allowed in the league at all.

Dumb.

And Shane tries to avoid all the comments and just keep becoming the best. He’s got a game to win tonight.

Chapter 2: Player 24 of the Montreal Stars

Chapter Summary

Ilya gets a chance to see the Montreal Stars play, and maybe he starts digging his own hole not only with his mouth but also an Instagram post.

Chapter Notes

Ilya is bored. Not bored, bored. He’s living the dream. He’s got a woman in every city and even a few men as well. He’s won everything. He’s the best rookie. He’s the rising star. He’ll get Boston maybe a Stanley Cup next year. He’s got competition in Scott Hunter and a few others sure. There are some good hockey players, but so few in his year even get close to matching him. He had so many goals this year that it’s almost laughable compared to others his age or younger. It’s not fifty as he promised but close. He got fucking close. He’s doing amazing work on the ice, and he shouldn’t be bored.

But he is.

He rolls on his heels. They are playing Montreal now that their season was off their ground.

They deboard and start getting guided through the airport. His headphones ride around his neck so that he can pay attention to the chatter happening around him.

“You want to watch the omega game tonight?” Ryan Price asks like the giant Saint Bernard that he is.  

“What?” Ilya glances over with a quirk in his eyebrow. It’s not like he doesn’t enjoy Ryan Price, but the man is a lot at times and definitely has taken Ilya’s niceness to be a full-on friendship where they hang out outside of contract or celebration hours.   

“Come on. It’ll be fun.” They are here for a photoshoot for a documentary about the rivalry between Boston and Montreal and an interview both for the documentary and about tomorrow’s game They had practiced this morning and then flew in mid-day. Going to the photo op then the interview session and then Ilya planned to find a fun spot to burn the remainder of the day.

Ilya rolls his eyes. It is freezing in Montreal right now, and weather is such a bitch. Tomorrow, their team gets in to warm up, and they’ll go along before the game.

Ilya scratches his ear. “What game?”

“Montreal Stars, the omega league, they play tonight. You want to come?”

“Tickets?” Ilya adjusts his bag as they are guided into the car. It’s not like he won’t spend money, but if the guy is inviting him…and maybe they are sold out. He’s got Brenda here in the city, and seeing her doesn’t sound that bad.

“Yes, I got four free tickets. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Ilya shrugs.

“That a yes.” Ryan fumbles out. Ilya is glad that he befriended Ryan who has been floating around to different teams. He’s a nice guy. He’s also happy that Ryan was picked to be one of the six Bears here for the photo op and even interview process as a temporary player and what it’s like to step into rivalry. He prefers Ryan to some of his other players, but the guy can also be a bit awkward when it comes to things. He should give the man a bone.

“Sure.” He flicks his head. “Nothing better to do.”

“Awesome.” The man is bouncing with Ilya’s promise.

That’s more hyped than Ilya would have expected. He doesn’t react beyond just a glance at the man.

They get through the photo shoot with the Montreal enjoying the intensity that it has. They are also glad that they are getting paid. It is part of a documentary talking about the rivalry between the teams. That’s all that matters.

Sitting down for the interview has such basic lame question. Montreal isn’t winning tomorrow. It’s that simple. Montreal Voyageurs have a few good players but not enough to reign on the team. Sure, that Hayden Pike will be annoying and that JJ can be sharp but nothing that’s truly competitive. He says what they desire. He winks at those interviewing him and talks a big game about tomorrow.

As they head out, they grab a quick meal before going to the hockey arena. There are some lines. A lot of people have young kids headed in on Friday night for a game. They shuffle in with some people looking at him. Ryan Price leads the charge with a little grin and they got Stephen Dean with them as well as Isla Alex. Isla is a good Alpha female player. There are a handful of Alpha females on the team. There are less Alpha females compared to males just like there are less betas. Stephen is a big male beta. His parents are both alphas, and he mentions in interviews the surprise of having a beta, but he isn’t really built like one.

They head in and take their nice seats. Apparently, Ryan had bought nice seats behind the penalty box that are right by the rink so that they can see the action.

It is nowhere near sold out. It looks like they have the upper portion of the arena blocked off and still not all the seats are taken. Many are pups cheering on with snacks. Ilya relaxes back staring at the screen flashing different players and ads for the arena. They do sell beer, but with the game tomorrow, he just gets some waters and pretzels while Stephen buys some popcorn for the group. They head back with still some time.

Then the hockey players are announced.

Ilya flips out his phone for a few minutes while kid’s cheer. Ryan’s into it, which is kind of cute, so he snaps a pic to post for later.

Ilya somewhat tunes it out. The home team does get a lot of cheering. They wave as they skate around. The helmets on and smiles under helmets. They all are buffed in the padded jerseys and sharp eyes to the crowd. The music amps up.

He pockets his phone when Ryan gives him a dirty look. The guy is excited, and Ilya can support the team aka enjoy it while he can and be a good sport especially if there are cameras around. Plus, some of these omegas will look so hot gliding around the ice and fighting it out. These kinds of teams still fight, right? He’d love to see a good scrap fight that he isn’t put into a penalty box for. He can chill and watch them go.

The puck fight is won by a Montreal player with the number 24. The guy is fast. He speeds along before passing the puck to another team mate. The back and forth, shoving and burning through the attempt to control the puck.

They are all moving fast. Maybe all the propaganda that has said omegas and smaller betas aren’t as fast or strong or agile, but these ones are on fire. Both teams are playing well. It’s moves that Ilya has seen and taken years to practice. They are legitimate athletes. He was wrong to think it was going to be some dull game.

He leans forward. The Montreal Stars opponents the Chicago Roar don’t have the matched skill at passing, but they are still moving fast. The players around bouncing over the guard and through the door on switches. The 24 who had won is off the ice for a second.

Things are tempered around.

About halfway through the first third, the Montreal Stars score. Everyone shouting. The 24 guys smiles getting crashed into by teammates before slipping off the ice. 24 takes of his helmet. The dark hair flows in sweat while people jeer at the omega woman in the box next to player 24. The player turns and waves at the people before going back to locking in to focus on the ice.

When the first third ends, it’s 2-0. Ilya goes and throws out the trash while the cheerleaders come out and shirts are thrown up and a little game is played on center ice.

Then the next begins with more.

Ilya shouldn’t have been surprised, but they do fight. One breaks out with a tussle. 24 is the one attacked. He throws a single punch and ducks out. The other player gets the penalty box. The coach yells at the ref for a second. 24 goes in for only one minute.

As soon as he’s out, he flows like a King of the ice. He scores crazily breaking the knees of the goalie.

The stadium cheers. Even Ilya stands up for a second beside Price hollering.

“He an omega?” Ilya glances over.

Isla laughs. “You stupid.”

Ilya tips his head. In college there were omega and women’s leagues, but it’s different in the states.

“Almost all,” Stephen responds.

Ryan Price glances up from his beer. “A few beta women, but yeah.”

“Really?” Ilya plays with his chin.

“Dude.” Isla mocks before kicking a leg on the seats empty before them.

Ryan Price throws his arms out before shoving the rooster booklet they were handed when they came in.

Ilya leans on the seat back. That omega can move. He’s as big as some of the Alphas and Beats that Ilya meets. He flips through for number 24. Shane Hollander. He’s a twenty-one-year-old hockey player. He joined the team at seventeen and is on his fourth season. He is a coach here at the Montreal rink. He glances around. A handful of kids have the jersey on. The arena is not even half full. People have food spilt around.

The thump and cheer, he’s looking as Shane gets another solid land in the net. The omega raises his hockey stick as others around him cheer on the ice and in the stands. It’s 3-0 and the game isn’t even halfway through.

“Montreal has won their division the last two years because of him,” Isla says.

“You watch omega sports?” Ryan Price huffs. “I thought you were married.”

“Savanah likes them, and both my girls are omegas. You know. You got support them.”

“You just want them to play hockey,” Ryan Price says. “This is why you talked us into this.”

“You talked Rozanov,” Isla argues.

“You going to get your name signed,” Stephen snorts.

Ilya rolls his eyes.

“Look, my girls would love a picture.” Isla thumps her chest.

“Aww.” Stephen keeps ribbing, but Ilya remains staring at the ice. That Shane Hollander is on fire.

Montreal takes an easy victory of 5-1.

Then Price does drag them all to go and meet some of the players. Ryan grins even more looking at the signing list which does include Shane Hollander’s name, and maybe that’s part of why Ilya doesn’t gripe about waiting with a bunch of young kids. Yes, of course, they are cute. It’s probably good that none of them are recognized. Maybe the baseball caps do actually work.

Ilya huffs a bit while in the line to meet the players. Really, he wants to see Shane Hollander, but he doesn’t say it out loud and makes sure his face is cool. They could be out partying, but instead, they are here in the stinking line with a bunch of kids. Really, it’s not as long as when Ilya has done press, but they are in line now and some have these posters with Addias logos on them. Shane looks fire in those. Ilya might have to Google that one just to take a better look. Adidas can have some good campaigns. He doesn’t wince outwardly. Instead, there is a warmth in his belly. He could jerk off to that, which he doesn’t do often. And really doing that to a sports player, he should be ashamed. He really should be, but something about the cuteness of the omega and the heat that he plays on the ice with, Ilya can’t find shame within him.

They shuffle up with Ryan Price and is on the toes of his feet.

Shane is kneeling with two little pups who are grinning with their jerseys. Everything burns in Ilya’s chest because this omega has a cheery smile, hair gelled just right, and little freckles reflecting in the light.

He’s cute. Ilya finds his brain tripping. Of course, the omega is cute, but it surprises the root of Ilya a bit that he could feel such a tug. Sure, he likes a cute omega, beta, and even sometimes an alpha but right now, he’s drawn into this omegas orbit. His heart thumps up a bit before her straightens his jacket and forces a grin.

Shane waves before glancing to the next family ready to meet him.

The omega hockey player is fully enraptured. Some of the kids stop down the line to see other players as well but most seem to be locked on in Shane Hollander.

“How much were these tickets?” Isla asks.

“Not that much,” Ryan Price whispers.

Ilya tries not to smile.

“I’m not paying for this part,” Stephen says, but the guy doesn’t actually mean it because Stephen will buy dinner or something to be nice back to Ryan. Ryan is just finding his place with the team. Ilya is a star enough but instead he leans closer to Stephen.

“Is it not worth it for your wife? Make her smile.”

Stephen coughs before glaring. “She doesn’t watch omega sports that much.”

“Well, Suzannah will be happy and so with my babies,” Isla winks.

“Hmm.”

Isla leans closer. “He’s cute. You like to stare more than wife, maybe?”

“Shut up,” Stephen quickly pushes at Ilya before Ilya laughs.

Then Shane looks at him. The look twitches for a second before Shane glances to the side. The attendant helping out leanings forward as if to look down the line, but Shane doesn’t say anything before looking to some weird Alphas in line that are given a hockey puck to hold so that they do not hug Shane.

Ilya glances to the side. Oh, shit, they do look bad. They are big alphas (and a beta, but he’s big and can pass as an Alpha). They don’t have kids. They aren’t on a date. They are bulky dudes in a line for an omega.

The kids go down the line to the others who are also glancing at them.

He could take off the baseball cap. Instead, he smirks and winks. Shane glances away again going a bit stiff. Again, Ilya has never been called bashful once in his life.

They get to the front, and maybe they all have had their realization of discomfort. Maybe that’s a poor word. But something like that.

They are shoved the puck and hockey stick.

“Hello, I’m a big fan,” Ryan Price blurts out.

Stephen groans. “Fucking help us.”

Isla laughs.

“What Ryan means…” Stephen steps in.

“I know what I mean.”

The attendant is moving there way. Ilya smooths in. “You are good player. We are impressed. You could almost beat me.”

Shane stiffens.

“Dude, that’s worse,” Stephen mutters. “We are hockey players.”

“Uh-hu.” Shane says.

“You could beat most people in the league. I did not mean…insult,” Ilya smirks. “It was compliment. Then he winks again.

“Can we move along?”

“I’m sorry,” Ryan blurts out.

“Worse timing ever,” Isla says. “My wife enjoys the sport too. Can we get a picture for her and my girls?”

“Yeah, yeah, I can sign something for them,” Shane offers her and no one else.

They get their photo and go down the line.

Ryan is bright red by the time they are outside. “I am so embarrassed. I can never come back. And I didn’t get anything.”

“Shut up,” Isla says glancing at the poster. “My girls will have this on their room so they can brag about it for when they play for the stars.”

“It’s awful,” Ryan groans. “They are going to tweet about this. It’ll be with me forever.”

“No, it is bad,” Stephen says. “Because of him,” the thumb points in Ilya’s direction.

The eyeroll can probably be heard with how strongly Ilya does it. “I did not mean insult.”

“Do you realize how bad omegas have it?” Stephen huffs. “Or betas even.”

Ilya nods. “It is tough. I’ll post it on social media, and it’ll be fine.”

Stephen throws out his arms marching off.

“It’s okay,” Ryan whispers.

“We ruined your time.”

“I would have made it awkward.” Ryan forces a tiny smile. “I guess you saved me from that.”

They get back to the hotel room after picking up some fast food.

Ilya grinned at the photo they had taken and pops open Instagram. It actually looks decent besides Ryan going a little red. But no one would notice that.  Besides the less then subtle thirst traps he puts the photo with the caption.

@shanehollander would love to meet you on the ice. #nhlhockey #hockeylife

And presses publish without a second thought.

Chapter End Notes

Okay so Ilya needed a dumb moment and also a way to become "enemies" with Shane. But next chapter, Shane and the internet will overreact. Oh, the fun of social media and public figures. Also I found writing this to be something positive for my week as most of the rest of the stuff was horrible and literally, I need 2026 to be better than this year. I so need it to be better.

Chapter 3: Shane - Who the Fuck does he think he is?

Chapter Summary

Shane deals with the repercussions of Ilya's post which includes his own anxiety. They do win a game, but the press conference...yikes, but thankfully, his parents are there with all the love and support.

Chapter Notes

I'm so excited, I get to watch the show next week. In honor, I spent yesterday and part of today working on this...yes, were there other things I needed to do and this put off my update of Soothed by an Ocean...well, we won't talk about that because I'm so happy and excited right now.

Who the fuck did Ilya Rozanov think he was? Throwing mud on Shane and bringing the omegas back down with all this crap on the internet with his spitting post and all the backlash flooding from it. Shane presses his tongue into his teeth. That guy had insulted him last night and now one simple sentence and hashtag has blown up the internet. Most are hate comments fluttered in snide remarks or memes. Most are dragging along about how Alphas are superior and that Rozanov would beat Shane.

But maybe the worst. The worst. They think he would date him. Him! Or at least a few people. Most in the NHL are still anti same primary gender dating even if their secondary gender is different, but ignoring that, Shane never wants to be within ten feet of that man. Shane wants to throw his phone into the wall and nail it into the frame. He forces himself to straighten. He shouldn’t care. It doesn’t matter. Nothing about it matters.

The game is it. That’s all that matters.

He plugs his phone in because he doesn’t want to see if Boston beats Montreal. He prays that they don’t. That Montreal can beat that smug hide off of Rozanov.

Then his phone rings. As he clamps his eyes, he wants to chuck his phone even more. He tips it. His mom. His hearts squeezes then he answers it on speaker so that he doesn’t have to do.

“Hey,” Shane whispers.

“Baby, I saw the news.” His mom helps him find a calming breath from his scraped knees to his failed math homework. “And you weren’t answering my texts. I know you are home now. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He plays with his ear.

“I hate this Ilya Rozanov. What does he think he has? Creating such a stir.” She’s probably pacing from the kitchen to the living room in her house shoes. “Meet you on the ice. And hash tagging nhl. Is he trying to make people mad again? Why can’t the omegas be treated equally? Why is that such a terrible thing?”

“Mom,” that is the last thing he wants to think about.

“Dad and I can come over. We will. If we pack our bags…”

“Mom, I’ll be okay.” He hugs at the phone as he flops on his couch. “The internet will forget in like twenty-four hours. They never spend time on stuff like this for long.”

“It’s still cruel. And smears your name and your plans.”

“It’s not like it’ll happen.”

“Shane Hollander did we raise you to give up?”

Shane can’t help but let a smile flutter. “No ma’am.”

“You want to play in the NHL.”

“He probably doesn’t know.”

“What? Who? Baby?”

“That Rozanov guy, he probably doesn’t even know. He’s like Russians.

“Does that give him an excuse.”

He hugs at his chest.

“Okay, maybe he meant it nicely.”

“It hurts.”

“I know baby, which is why I will sign up to be number one on his hate club. It was a dick move.”

Shane laughs at his mother using such crude language.

“You sound better.”

“I don’t know.”

“You are living the hockey life. It’s amazing what you have done. Okay. No matter what some off handed or mean over egoed alpha does, you are the best. And you’ll be the leader of helping omegas playing on Alpha teams. You have to have faith.”

“You think he meant nothing?”

“What do you think?”

“Maybe.” He plays with his hoodie.

“I hope he meant nothing, and he’s sending you an apology. Either way, he should have thought through it. This, whatever, Rozanov is a dummy. I will still hate him.”

Shane hums out.

“I mean it. He is. If he is going to post things that poke at you, an amazing hockey player, he’s dumb, stupid, and I don’t want anything to do with him if he’s such a brain-dead Alpha.”

“Mom.” Shane is blushing.

“You remember what I did when that boy started bullying you in middle school.”

“Devon.”

“Yes, that Devon, I told his mother.”

He’s cackling now. “You about hit her, and the principal had to step in.”

“Her son doesn’t get to bully my baby, calling him omega slurs, how dare he. I’m still mad at that woman. She probably raised a child like Rozanov.”

Shane could almost close his eyes and see the twitch in Yuna’s neck from the anger she was feeling.

“These are dumb alphas who never had a good instruction on how to behave in society. Idiots. That’s what most of them are. Complete idiots.”

Shane hugs his chest. “Next long week, I’ll come up.”

“We’d love to have you, or we can come down. I’d love to come down. Dad can take his work remote, and I can take a personal day, it’s no problem if you need us baby.”

The comfort of his mother does sound amazing, but it is just one dumb post. He can overcome this. Sure, he would hope that another sports person would have better sense, but what can he expect from the ‘alpha’ league. They really are a bunch of dumbs who want to rub their own cocks off on stomping on others that society believes is weaker.

“Do you want to come to the game?” he whispers.

“On Monday?”

Suddenly, he fumbles walking it back because he doesn’t want to force his mom or dad to do something that they would totally do even if they should not drop everything. “That’s kind of inconvenient.”

“No, let me answer.” His mother totally knows what is swirling in his head right now. “We can make it work, okay. Don’t worry about it.”

Shane messes with his lip. “We go on the road again.” But none are in Ottawa closer to his parents.

“And we want to see you before you go. Why don’t I take to your dad, and maybe we can head out this afternoon, pick up dinner, and have a nice evening. I know you have to work out tomorrow and prep for the game, but I’m sure your dad and I could do a few small things or just chill.”

“I have to work some on Monday.”

“But you have work Tuesday.”

And he has a few sick days, but he’s using most of his PD days and sick days for travel hockey. He can’t take them off. “Can you take two days off?”

“Yes, yes, they will understand, if not, I’m sure I can cough a little on the phone.”

Shane laughs imagining his mom winking over the phone at him. He loves his mother because she is amazing. He hugs his chest a bit before getting himself back together and head in the game. His game. The wisdom is to stay off of his phone and the few ribs from his friends, he doesn’t want to hear it. And even then, they will go down fighting on social media if he asked for it. He’s thrilled when his parents tell him that they’re at his apartment. He rushes home into their arms.

Yuna hugs at him. “Are you doing, okay?”

He just groans.

“You’ve got this,” his dad pats his back. “We have you.”

“I’ll be fine,” he whispers.

It’s nice to eat with his parents. They keep off the topic of Ilya and most hockey topics. Truly, they are talking about his teammates and season but not going over into the drama or talking to his lawyer or the NHL owners again because that’s a stonewall in the end.

Then he works and feels the soul leaving his body in some moments of trying to get one kid to listen. Okay, it’s not that bad. His agent calls. He ignores them. He doesn’t want to hear from her. Actually, he does, Fareh is great, but at the same moment, she will just tell him to put his chin up or something and he has work. So much work and a game and yeah, a lot of things.

Get his head in the game.

He has this. He wins the first face off. That’s all that matters. He drives himself along before spinning around.

When he goes off the ice, it’s itching. He wants to get back out. Shane leans on the boards while his coach replaces his blades. He tries to keep his heart rate calm while the scene burns around him. Stay focused. Win this game. Get through it. At least he doesn’t have a met and greet afterwards. They were wise enough not to put him on that. Some players on it before the game but with everything he lives on, he’s glad that he didn’t have the chance/freedom to do that.

Yet, he has to do some press. Ugh, that’s the worse. The coach will do it as well as two of the older players both Renea and Joe. Joe is always a great sport as she bats off the questions. She’s not a big omega. Shane is on the big side for omegas. Sure, against most alphas, especially players, he’s small, but here on the ice, he has some size compared to others. Sure, there are some bigger like their goalie the other male omega Denny is amazing. They have the four beta women are descent size. The rest are omega woman. However, you would not one to meet any one of those women on a dark alley way or the bright lighted street if you were on the wrong side of them. Joe has an air to her for being almost in her forties. He loves Joe, but in the press, Naomi is a lot better at fielding questions and having banter with him. Joe almost never comes out, but things must be awful. Renea is just three years older than Shane. She’s good with press making jokes but on the ice, she would easily flip you over her shoulder just to hear your bones bang. Even to her teammates.

As he ducks into the room, the air is off. Sure, they prepped him, but he hadn’t been really listened. Blame him for thinking of hockey first. They rarely do press, but they had planned this months ago to do a little fun local thing before going on the road for two weeks. 

He stares at the room. Usually, post a game like this, there are only a couple reports, but this is packed. He doesn’t often even do the interviews. They take rotations, but maybe this Addias deal is blowing up more than his thought. He takes a seat glancing over.

The hands fling up as soon as it’s time for questions.

The first one is called on. She stands up. “This is a question for Shane Hollander.”

If Shane believed in a god, he would start praying, maybe he’s praying right now to the ice or the hockey, or maybe even the walls of the penalty box which seem to be closing in on him.

“What did you think of meeting Ilya Rozanov?”

Shane tries to keep his jaw from grinding. Of course, they aren’t here for him. They never are.

Joe laughs breaking the tension of the room.

Shane smirks.

“He’s an idiot is what that boy is. If we met on the ice, that Boston team they brag about would be smoked by the Stars,” Joe says with the straightest face.

“What she says,” Shane says.

Another person. “For Shane Hollander.”

He’d rather be five minutes in the penalty box.

“What was your and Ilya Rozanov’s meeting like?”

“I don’t remember it,” he has to hide the wince the pity in his own voice.

“Really?” the report asks.

Keep it stiff just like his spine feels. “I had a meet and greet. He was in the line with a few other hockey players. There was a picture. I think I signed something for one of the players, and then, yeah, that was it until the post.”

“Someone recorded words spoke between you and the group.”

Shane is blushing.

“Next question.”

But the next is for you. “Have you seen the video between you and Bears players?”

“No, I didn’t know it existed.”

“Do you believe the players were being anti-omega?”

“They better not be or their spouses are making them have cold dicks,” Joe says.

They are going crazy in the ear piece.

The room is vibrating.

“I don’t think so,” Shane forces the lie. “I think it stems from a lack of knowledge nothing more.”

“I wish a hockey player would get in a social media feud with me,” Renea winks. “I want to be this popular.” She means it in jest. “None of you watch the game.” She laughs. “Man, social media is going to roast you.”

The room keeps rocking.

“Imagine you caring more about Alpha attention then the game we are winning. We’ll get the cup again this year.”

A report who gets called on directs it to Renea. Thank you. “Do you think you will win the season?”

“Yes, absolutely. No questions.”

Then it’s back to Ilya Rozanov.

When he finally drags himself, Joe hugs him. Shane doesn’t know if he’s ever had a hug from her expect for their last cup win. “You’ve got this.”

Shane shrugs.

“I mean it. One time, this agent tried to come after me, but I fought it. I didn’t let them get to me, and I know you.” She pats his shoulder.

Naomi is waiting for him after teammates try and comfort him. Only two don’t, but Shane tries to ignore it. They don’t mean anything to it. It’s just a lot.

“You,” she tips her head. “Join us?”

“My parents are here.”

“Don’t let me keep you.” She shoulders her bag.

“What am I supposed to do?”

She plays with her lip before sighing. “I don’t think there is an easy way. They are all shit. Be the bigger person.”

Shane raises his eyebrow.

“So, I would punch him, but I’m figuring from what I’ve learned about you. Nice Canadian.”

“You are half Canadian.”

“I strongly connect to my Finnish side.”

Shane rolls his eyes. When he spots his parents, they wave. His dad gets him first. “You did amazing.”

His phone buzzes as he hugs his mom.

“Who is that?” She asks.

He glances. He has so many missed texts and calls from Farah. She is probably losing it.

“Shane, are you okay?”

“It’s my agent.”

“Answer it.”

“Mom.”

“We can wait in the car.”

“I’ll do it when I get home.”

His mom gives him a look.

“Food first,” his dad says.

They buy him dinner which is adorably sweet because they don’t have to buy him food. Mom talks about all the cute fans and the cheerleaders and also about his teammates. Neither talk about the shitty press meeting. He loved that he knew his parents wouldn’t talk about something that made him nervous.

When he gets home, he shuts the bedroom door which he let his parents sleep in while his mom and dad set up the dinner. Farah answers on the first ring.

“Shane Hollander, why are you ghosting me?”

“I’m talking to you right now.”

“Ugh, you are irritating. Thank goodness you are good at hockey.”

Shane tries to hum.

“You should have called me before you went on press. I would have made them pull you.”

“I had already been released. It would have looked bad.”

“I could have prepared you.”

“Was it that bad?” he tries to keep his voice down. His parents wouldn’t listen on purpose, but it is a small apartment.

“No, no, it was not.”

“It was.” His chest clenches. Can this nightmare be over?

“No, there were a few wording changes, and I could have made it so that you weren’t so caught off guard. But I loved Joe. Wouldn’t want to be her agent, but wow, do I adore her.”

“She’s married.”

“I know that omega woman, Cassie, right? So lucky, love her.”

Shane hugs his chest. “So is all you want to talk about it this Ilya dude?”

“It’s the front cover story for hockey.”

He plays with his jaw. “They were talking about the video.” Which he probably wants to avoid just like all his socials.

“Doesn’t look bad for you at all.”

Shane can start to feel the balloon on his chest deflate a bit.

“Them yes, but you, you haven’t done anything wrong except insult one of the golden boys of hockey.”

Truly, the name Ilya Rozanov is one that Shane has seen float many times. It’s nothing new. The man seems to be on hate trains, and from his perspective, he understands why.

“But I have something to ask you. React how you want, but I do as your agent have to ask you and will advise you on how I would move forwards.”

Is it Adidas? Are they dropping him?

“The agent of Ilya Rozanov reached out, and was wondering if you would do a call with Rozanov.”

“No. What the fuck?” Shane yells before covering his mouth as he hears his parents startling in the kitchen.

Chapter 4: Ilya - The Thing about PR

Chapter Summary

Ilya spends time with PR, but he is swayed to support Shane and his endeavors to play professional hockey with the NHL.

Chapter Notes

Ilya was in the locker room having parked his new Porsche that he spent his recent paycheck for to add to his collection, he feels like now that he has four cars, he can call it a collection. Instead of getting warmed up in the rink’s gym, he sees that someone has been sent down to the offices.

“They need you at a meeting.”

The text message pops as well from Callie who is the lead of the PR team. His brow knits. He didn’t even have to be at the gym and be working out today because they just flew back from Montreal. Was this something about that stupid documentary? If they are mad about something he said, they shouldn’t have sent him. They have to be here for practice later, but right now it is their time. Odd that they need him. It has to be about the interview. What thing did he say? They shouldn’t send someone still struggling with English and didn’t know French to Canada then.

He takes the stairs as if it is part of his work out. Once he brushes his hair, he walks into the room with an even strut and a lazy look over the room.

Ilya stares at the PR team and swallows. “Hello.” The smirk might help.

“Take a seat.”

It is restraint to not wink, but he keeps wearing the smirk while he sits down trying to lounge back against the stiff office chair. Did he say something? He’s been careful about what he says in Russian since they have been catching him to translate it. No, no, it couldn’t be one of the men coming out about him, or a picture because he hasn’t been to seen any of them in like two months. Could be a woman, but that wouldn’t…he was always a gentleman. Everyone knew that, maybe he had some stilted lovers because he cut them off, but they all knew it was either a one-night stand or a casual two or three times a year. Nothing more. He always apologizes if something rude happens, asks for permission, his mother raised a good son. He isn’t his brother.

The picture pops up of the Instagram post with Shane Hollander on the big tv on the side wall.  

Ilya scrunches his forehead and glances around the table before gazing back at the picture. Sure it wasn’t he best quality, and he wishes they could see his hair, but it’s just an Instagram post.

“We have a problem.” Callie, the lead PR person, states putting her phone face down on the table.

The smirk continues. “From Hollander?” Because that was kind of a mess, but why only him then because Ryan could easily be dogged on for that.

“The internets reaction to this post more than Hollander,” Callie adjusts. “But an apology to him might be needed to be made.”

“Okay.” That’s an easy signature on whatever they want.

“Okay?” the huff snaps across.

“I meant no insult. I complaint. What’s the problem?”

Callie sighs leaning her arms on the table to stare at him.

“Do you understand the controversy around omega sports?” Hannah who was the youngest on the PR team asks.

Ilya quirks his eyebrow. “People lie and say they are not good. I watch them, and see different. Hollander is very good.” His hand runs on the seam of the table before flicking his head to the side. What is this even about?

The male figure, Howie, smirks a bit before getting glared at by Hannah. There are two other people who he doesn’t know. Hannah does a lot for social media. Howie is more of the reporter side. Callie oversees. The rest he doesn’t interact with, but he understands that there is also another two men walking in and staring at him with a firm look. Okay, so something is off.

“We waited until you returned to talk to you.” Callie crosses her legs the other way. “And our response.”

“Okay.” He didn’t love the stress on our because that meant the team would decide what he would say.

“You have caused a controversy.”

“With this?” Ilya points at the screen. A simple picture and post caused drama or was it the meet and greet.

“Yes, and the video. Someone recorded you in the line.”

Ilya doesn’t cringe outwardly, but his muscles flex in his stomach. “I did not mean insult. Ryan is nice man too. We were just…” He flutters his hand. What word would best suite it?

“You were trying to hit on him?” Howie says which gets him another glare.

“Maybe little flirting. But you know me.” Ilya smirks again before swaying in his chair. “But also, we like big alphas and stuff, and we, Ryan was starstruck. I was trying to be…nice.”

Callie shoots an eyebrow up before tapping the back of her phone.

“That didn’t come across,” the man in the navy jacket in the back says.

“I can say sorry.” Ilya flicks his hand as if it isn’t bothering him that all these people are talking to him. He knows that they had to let go of the person Ryan was filling in for because he was caught on video saying slurs, but he also knows that there are accusations against Vince for harassing women. He said some dumb apology for making the women uncomfortable, but that is it. Slap on the wrist and technically the man fired is playing lower leagues now. He didn’t mean to anti-omega. His mother was an omega. He had seen the hate she got, and he would never want to put any of that on an omega. Really PR tends to do shit. Many of them just lets it slide. He can think of a few on the team right now who probably should be getting this talking to not him.  

“We may need more than that,” Callie says breaking his train of thought.

His lip twitches. Because he’s known to be player, he’s had plenty of talks to PR. That and along with the rep to make enemies against other teams and getting into fights on the ice. Never off the ice like one member he can think of in his head right now.

On the other hand, some get heat that shouldn’t like Stephen and Isla are amazing. Over half of the team is great, but it’s wild what other teams also let their players get away with. It’s better now of course, but at times they will try to bury things under the rug or just brush it off. He’s seen plenty of players in the locker room say mean things about omegas or even on the ice other players trying to goad him saying something about him being an omega or playing like one or even having the stature. Never got him to fight, but others might over that.

“Mr. Rozanov.”

He glances up. He’d zoned out for a moment.

“Do you understand how bad this is?”

It’s caused a stir, but he’s always causing a stir. Maybe it being omega sports and with a man he’s not competing against, makes it look worse. Typical PR stuff, he’s done it before with a casual sorry, and done. He’d mean it this time because he kind of feels bad for the omega. “I can apologize. Talk to Hollander.”

Hannah shakes her head and looks away.

“This is adding fuel to the fire,” the man in the navy suit seethes.

“Do you realize that Shane Hollander has been trying to fight in courts to gain the right for omegas to play hockey in the NHL?” The man in the simple polo says.

Ilya can’t help but show shock on his face. “He does?”

“It’s been all of the news. Hollander and several other omega players have been fighting for the right to be drafted in the NHL,” Callie says.

And he’d love to play against Shane. Some real competition his age. “Okay.”

“Okay.” The navy suited man thumps a hand on the table. “Is that all?”

Ilya flicks at his lips. “What’s so bad about them playing with us?”

The man has fire in his eyes.

Callie quickly swopes in with her direct but calm voice. “There are talks of lawsuits which would be costly and something that is being considered by lawyers. You posting about it has caused social media to debate it.”

“And with your big name, lots of discussion about whether or not you are for or against it.”

“You want me to post about omega rights?” Ilya squints. He likes living away from Russia because there are more rights for omegas, but at the same time, there was still so much pain. His mother not only being married to someone in law enforcement but also being omega left her no options when it came to leaving her husband or finding help for her mental health without his assistance. Here you do not see that. So, what is so horrible but an omega trying out for an NHL team?

“We need to understand the meaning of your post?” the calmer man in the polo asks.

Ilya sighs before crossing his right ankle over his knee. “That I think he could maybe beat me at hockey.”

That causes enough of a stir and Hannah has to hide a laugh behind her hand.

“Excuse you?”

“Did I speak Russian?” He lazily runs his tongue over his teeth.

“Let’s calm down,” Callie says.

“The press will have a field day with this,” Howie says.

“I can’t believe this.”

“Have you seen Hollander play? He skates better than many I play against.”

“And you know this from what? One game?”

“Yes,” Ilya doesn’t even flinch.

“I can’t believe this.” The man walks out of the room.

“We need to say something.”

“I will not say he isn’t good player. He amazing player.”

“Could you beat him?” The polo man asks.

“Probably but he could come close. Could beat Vince or Buggy easy.” He raises an eyebrow at the man. “He’d be fun. Make a challenge. Need a challenge.” His foot drops.

“Scott not enough,” Howie snips.

“He good, but need someone.” He throws out his hand casually. “My age. Grow together. No one my year even younger like Scott.”

“This could be good PR.”

Ilya stares over.

“Make a little friendly competition.”

Now looking at the man in a polo, and his features, Ilya doesn’t want to guess, but maybe this is an omega as well. One that likes the idea of a good moment for the omegas. Not everyone is like the man in the navy suit.

“Commissioner Crowell is going to hate this idea,” another person that Ilya doesn’t know says.

“I would do it,” Ilya offers.

“We could reach out to his team.”

“And apologize,” Ilya adds.

“For?” Howie huffs.

“If he offended, think I being mean, I do not want that. I meant compliment, not insult.” Ilya is cautious in his words. “I think he is very good player. Meant to mean it. Not cause him problems too.”

It’s too late without it being weird for him to take it down. So instead, he could fix it.

They start talking logistics.

“Apology first then I’d do something to show support.”

When Ilya comes back down to go to work out, Isla is there working out on the treadmill. Ilya starts to stretch before she takes off her head phones and slows down.

“You had to make it worse.”

He wishes that he couldn’t hear her over his earbuds.

“You could have asked me, one of your omega lady friends, anyone really.”

“So I mess up?” He winks.

“You messed up big,” she laughs.

He would like to just die, but he laughs with her outwardly. After working on and doing a little bit of practice on the ice, he makes his way up and knocks on Callie’s door. She yells come in. She stares over at him. “What?”

“Better if I say sorry.”

She laughs. “Life is always a shit show.”

“At least I meant no bad.”

She rolls her eyes. “No comment.”

“Agent says something.”

“No response sorry.”

Ilya just nods before heading out. There is a chance that he could find a date or call Svetlana but that pit is heavy in his stomach. Once he gets to his apartment, he sits at his computer and starts to Google. It starts with Shane Hollander. Who he is. The seasons he’s played. The trophies he’s won since he was in elementary school to what he is doing now. There are articles about him coaching. Coaching a lot. Then the deal with Adidas. (He looks good in the ad campaign that they are launching with Hollander.) There is a nice article about his parents as well as some clips of interviews. Then he digs into the lore of this omega fighting to get on the team.

Then it branches to other topics. Many omegas are fighting the courts in different ways and trying to speak publicly. Most omegas are women. Only about 1 in 20 omegas are males. This number has gone up. Another rabbit trail. Turns out either people would hide and be betas or their parents would kill them so that they didn’t suffer the shame or were illegally sold off meaning that less than one hundred years ago, male omegas were thought to only be 1 in 60 omegas. Wow. That’s dark. Did that happen in Russia? Betas always had the biggest birth population, alphas next, and omegas after that. But that’s startling. Some older omegas gave interviews about the prejudice and their parents hiding them as betas or how illegal scent patches. Others talked about trafficking or how the movie industry has portrayed them poorly or how many religious groups are anti them.

Then he goes on the string of Alpha women. He knew that they only got to be in the sport around seventy years ago, but wow, yikes, there is a lot of pain there. No wonder Isla makes the remarks she does about Alpha women. Yes, male alphas are way more common in general, but compared to omega males, alpha women are more common and accepted in society having gone through their own movement. As he chews on his lip, before leaning back to keep searching.

The next day when he’s said that Hollander hasn’t reached back out yet, his stomach drops. He flicks on his phone to the Montreal Star page to see they are playing tonight.

His team makes comments towards him, but he rolls his eyes. Ryan is the one to snap. Instead of doing anything rational, it’s about all of them being misogynistic and hateful to secondary gender. Gets who gets called up to HR by the end of the day. Half of the time agrees with Ryan, over probably because really, it’s only like five players that are truly toxic. They need to just trade them.

He texts Svetlana.

She calls him. “I thought you were busy.”

“Yes,” he responds in Russia.

“You do not sound busy.”

“I am.”

“With what? The PR mess. I see your name with omega sport.”

“Shane Hollander.”

“Yes, him and that you support omegas in hockey.”

“Should I not?”

“I think he could beat you. If you play together, I beat on him.”

Ilya laughs. “I can beat him. But, he could beat others on the team.”

“Cocky.”

“I got the Rookie trophy.”

“You told me you hate that trophy.”

“It takes up lots of room.”

He can hear her sigh.

“I want to help.”

“Help what?”

“The cause.”

“So, do it.”

“They do not want me to.”

She must be in her kitchen making tea or something. “Do you listen to anyone? Even in Russia?”

Ilya laughs.

“Go for it,” she snorts. “And take me on a date to thank me.”

“Another night?”

“I’ll text you the days I am free.”  

That night, probably going to be hated, he puts on his Instagram a post of himself watching the Montreal Stars. He doesn’t tag anyone. Doesn’t say anything on the screen. Just a picture of his dinner and the tv.

He sticks his tongue again his cheek.

He does get a call from PR.

The navy suit man is back and his face has taken on even more of a red hue. Ilya can think of at least ten jokes that he could match with the burning on his cheeks.

Ilyas smirks. It’s the best look he has.

“What were you doing?” The man has a snap.

“Stratton calm down.”

That man looks at Callie like he’s lost blood vessel’s just from her words.

She scoots forward on her chair. “Now it has put on drama, but we have reached out to Mr. Hollander’s agent.”

“You what?”

“To apologize and a collab.”

She leans back.

“Who approved…”

“I did,” the man who is now in a plain white shirt says. “I did.”

That shuts the tomatoed face man in his navy suit.

Ilya rubs his cheek, and he still thinks about it later when he’s making dinner. His thumb opens Facebook. Comments bubble, but he scrolls through them. He has to delete some that are being harmful towards Shane Hollander and even just omegas in general.

He’s feeling heat to his own cheeks.

Then his thumb finds Hollander’s name, and he clicks on private messages. The man doesn’t have him blocked or just general outreach. There is a chance that Hollander has someone hired for it…well maybe not if he’s coaching too. So, Ilya starts to tap out a long apology that Callie will probably yell at him about if she ever learns he sent it.

Chapter End Notes

I am so excited. Literally I am bursting out of my seams with waiting to see Shane and Ilya on the tv. I know it will be awesome. I also can't wait to work on this fic after watching the show. I know I'll have so much energy to pour into this. And some of you guys will be writing great fics that I will get to read as well. Love you all. Keep safe!

Chapter 5: Shane - Panicking over Private Messages

Chapter Summary

Shane decides what to do about Ilya's Private Message

Chapter Notes

Okay, so if you are like me staying up late to watch Heated Rivalry (at least the first episode), then here is a little way to spend that time. Or maybe after you watch the show, this is a little au that you can enjoy. I am so excited. AHHHHHHHHH.
(Also first time I've really done text messages in fics. If you have suggestions, I'd love to hear them.)

Shane leans on the boards while his coach replaces his blades. He tries to keep his heart rate calm while the scene burns around him. Stay focused on the game. He spins out on the ice making the powder blur upwards. The away games are going to be super tough to win. Chicago’s team might beat them out. Shane glances at the ceiling before glancing. The stadium was decently packed for their ‘lesser’ hockey team. Usually, they are lucky to be half full, but this is over that. Maybe close to two thirds. Maybe a hair over.

 Over course, they are almost all present for the Chicago team not for Montreal. There were a few. It also looked like some more people are in the upper boxes.

But he plays.

Shit, but he does play.

And they lose because of him. Well, he can’t take it all, but he’s off which does throw off the line, and he’s off the ice more than normally only spending close to thirty seconds rather than the normal sixty speeding across the ice.

It burns against his chest. The first one on the road to lose. And he’s taken off work (which are very nice to let him and Naomi have off), and it’s been for nothing. He digs a hand on his neck before lifting it up. Three more games before they are home. They got this.

He lays in his hotel room with Denny who lays on his side with his headphones rubbing on his arm.

Shane flicks his phone up. Sue him because he’s bored, and it won’t be that bad. When he opens social media, he knows it’s a mistake from the number of Private Messages, hearts, and so much more flooding. He glances. So much hate. Then he flicks to the PMs. Many are sweet, but in the middle is the name, he’d wish to never see again.

Ilya Rozanov. He taps on it and freezes. It’s a long ass message. It is not just some simple little message. Instead, it stretches out. He has to scroll up. Part of him shakes as he begins to read.

Hello, I want to say sorry. I meant no offense. The post was meant to be nice and say I liked watching you play. It was a good game. You played very good. I liked watching you. Very good. I am told I am dick at times. I meant no harm. Tried to make the situation better, but put leg in my mouth. Bad first meeting. I sorry. I did not mean harm. Ryan is fan too. He gets scared meeting you. Such big fan.

Shane rolls his eyes because what is this. Is this guy trying to apologize. It looks like a big excuse.

And the post. I did not realize it would make such a mess. I can take it down, but I posted on my feed watching Montreal. To support you, so that might not work well. PR already yell at me. No worries, I did it for you. To support, yes. But if you ask, it is gone. I hope you can accept my apology. And if you want, I follow you and maybe that will shut them up. Yes?

Shane rubs at his face and scrolls back up to start reading the message again. He scoffs shaking his head before playing with his hoodie strings. Kicks his leg to the side before staring at his TV and then text Naomi.

She starts calling him. He hangs up before Danny can flick him a look and texts back.

Shane

I’m in my room

With Danny

Trying to be discreet

Naomi

secret

wtf

d u get caught watching porn (eggplant emoji)

Shane

Don’t project

Naomi

WHAT?

what is up your butt

just asking

Shane

That was you!!!

Like three weeks ago

Naomi

lies

all lies

Shane

(he sends the eyeroll emoji)

And then he does one in real life because Naomi is being so stupid and silly about all of this.

She’s a great friend but at the same time, she can be irritating and did almost get caught last week watching porn because her roommate came back early. She was safe but at the same time, she called laughing telling Shane all about it.

Naomi

ve i mentioned hating u for being like an angel

who do u get to be

all nice n perfect

n thats a rumor

i nvr watch (eggplant emoji)

im an angel

Shane

You told me about it

Naomi

u r the worst friend

(broken heart emoji)

shattered literally

Shane laughs before Danny glances again. Clears his throat as he rolls towards Danny so that he can watch his team mate and text.

Shane

I got the craziest PM.

Naomi

daniel radcliffe

no, u would have started with that

but danl radclif, be wild

Shane

I regret telling you my celebrate crushing

Naomi

everyone lovesssssss him

boy u aint unieuq

unique

shit sp checker

Shane

Stop texting so fast

He could have predicted the message that flashes up next.

Naomi

GET TO THE POINT
I NEED THE DEATS

He might as well double down just to egg her on.

Shane

You need to learn proper grammar

Naomi

DO NOT COME TO ME NEXT TIME THEN

also u r lame

u n ur nice grammar

such a prick

Shane

Make a real guess

Naomi

i did

dr is a valid guess

u r cute enough to bag him

Maybe he should have texted someone else, but at the same time, unless you are an omega hockey player, it would be hard to understand the pain and internal dialogue happening right now.

Shane

Isn’t him

Naomi

obv

now spill

or im putting you on silent

until the game

u know i don’t lie

He needs the conversation to move, so he types the dreaded name.

Shane

Rozanov

Naomi

SHUT UP

the hockey player

for real??????

Shane

(sends a screen shot)

Naomi

SHUT THE FRONT DOOR

he sent that??????

WTF

hes psycho……telling you now

Shane

Is it an apology?

That’s what I want to know

Naomi

 u have been blessed

never had a shitty alpha boyfriend

this is sooooooooo alpha male coded

telling u up front

don’t get a man

Shane

(eyeroll emoji)

Naomi

DONT MOCK ME

Shane

What do I say back?

Naomi

(middle finger emoji)

obv

He either needs some support or maybe a suggestion because right now that message is on read. What if Rozanov takes it the wrong way? Posts it on social media (since he loves it so much). Or keeps messaging him. Should he block him? Or would that blow up because of social media post? He needs help. He’s dying.

Shane

I need help

Naomi

(middle finger emoji)

seriously, this is what is deserved

did u read that shittttttttttty message????????

ARE YOU BLND????????

Shane

I read it. Like three times

Naomi

Soooooooooo???? (Middle finger emoji)

Shane groans.

“Are you good?” Danny asks.

Part of him tears apart as he debates what to say. A sliver of the truth will have to work. “Just that stupid Rozanov.”

“Stay off of social media.”

Shane wishes Danny had told him that earlier before the whole existential crisis.

“Seriously man. Stay off. I have for years. Best thing for my health, and you have a lot on your plate. So don’t add that.”

Don’t add anything, Shane thinks, that’s harder said than done. Maybe he should drop something. Maybe stop the hockey team or pee-wees. He does have the Adidas. Maybe the lawsuits. Something does have to go. He might be going mad at this rate.

Flicks his phone

Naomi

u r ignoring me

fr

fu

come to me for advice

then ignore it

alllllllllll the things

id write u a response

id pm him for u

send a nice lecture

curl around his little head

squish him

he needs to be put in his place

AND ILL DO IT

promise u

n im taking ur silence as a yes

yessssssss naomi u get to go slap him

Shane starts typing fast since the messages are flooding in while he’s trying to skim them. He’s going to have a panic attack watching her text at this rate.

Shane

Who is him?

Better be Rozanov

Naomi

maybe both of u deserve to be slapped

think about that

Shane

I’m not ignoring you

I’m thinking

Naomi

u can just igrnore him

totally fine solution

i support totally going after him

butttttttttt also silence plays a big game

Shane

Thank you

Mostly for making me smile

Because as of now, he’s not really taking her advice. But it does help to remove some of the load off his shoulder by telling someone.

Naomi

?????????????????

not for the advice

BETRAYED I TELL U

BETRAYED

Shane laughs

Shane

Goodnight

Naomi

if u need more help

just text

i got u

gn

Shane puts up his phone for a minute before flicking it back open to the note’s apps. His hand hovers above the keyboard. Can’t think of anything.

He goes to the bathroom. After he is done getting ready, he goes back to the room. Danny slips into the bathroom before Shane flicks open Facebook and messages exactly how he feels.

Is this supposed to be an apology?

And then he goes to bed.

When he wakes up, they are hitting the road for their next game tonight. It’s only a four-hour drive, so they are packed on the bus. He has purposefully not opened his social media but Farah has messaged him and emailed him about the PR team reaching out again from Boston. Ugh, the worst for real.

Shane does check just in case anyone needs something. Nothing besides a few parents. They will be fine though with those who work part time is taking care of them. Then he messages Farah about getting back to her after the game or once he gets back. Now he gets to look forward to a sarcastic message back.

He trains on the ice before relaxing into the practice.

The away weekends are the time where he actually gets the most sleep and feels relax. So, relax. Just chill out.

They win the game. Not as much of a lead, and Shane feels a little off. Yes, he does have one success net and then two assists, but it just doesn’t feel like he’s fully back into rhythm.

They are flying tomorrow for their last game on the road. This means that tomorrow is their off day so several decide to go out. Shane goes to dinner with them, but then they are hitting up clubs. Naomi tries to make puppy dog eyes, but Jo is on his side. He walks back to the hotel with her and a few other players who are either married or dating seriously and not ready to romp around on the town.

Shane buys a snicker.

Yes, he feels guilty, but he takes it up and bravely turn on the tv.

Boston is playing. Ugh! Why is this cursed man always following him around.

Shane glares at every inch of the tv showing that Rozanov skating for Boston. Ugh, it’s so infuriating. Something itches. The guy is good. Shane watched him some but now, really seeing him, shows the skill that has been built. He does deserve at least some of the praise that he’s gotten. There were always chances that maybe if he made it out that would be his competitor, but what’s it worth lying to himself anymore. He’ll never be the first omega to be on an NHL team. Maybe no one will. Maybe they’ll be stuck in the past forever. He messes with the rim of his water bottle.

He can’t tare his eyes away. The chocolate makes him feel a bit better but not enough.  

Rozanov is off the ice for a little bit. Then he’s back for about sixty seconds. Then back off. A break of commercials makes Shane flip to his phone. He opens Facebook.

The notification that Ilya Rozanov messaged him burns Shane’s cheek.

He opens it.

Yes, I am sorry for making your life harder. I think you are a good player.

Then sent about one am this morning.

Can I follow you?

And can you talk to my agent?

I am much better in person.

Shane message with his keyboard before he can think again.

Pretty sure I saw the opposite

And I’ll think about the other two

Maybe after our agents talk.

Then he takes a photo the TV which shows Ilya Rozanov vault onto the ice.

You are not as good as they say.

And he gets off the app because he’s glad that he could put that little dig on the smirk wearing Alpha. Maybe that will be enough of a middle finger that Naomi will be happy.

Then he calls his mom and dad just happy to hear their voice even if they are fussing over him. He keeps the tv on mute so that he can watch. Part of him wishes he turned it off as Boston does manage to sneak a win by one point thanks to Rozanov pulling off a sneaky shot. His parents worry about him taking on too much. He’s asleep when Danny comes in, and then he makes another mistake which is checking Facebook again.

Chapter 6: Ilya: It is not flirting

Chapter Summary

Ilya and Shane keep messaging.

Chapter Notes

Okay, so I learned something new. Instagram didn't have DMs until 2015, and I was thinking this is like 2013 maybe...so yeah, I am changing that to Facebook and Private Messaging. Aka I was feeling old recently, but like I don't remember a time before DMs. (big side-eye to self).

But mostly I am excited for the new episode and screaming in excitement because the last two were so amazing!!!!

Ilya comes off the high of the game heading to the locker room basking in the jabber that typically floats across the room. He plays with his curls that stick to the back of his head before he heads into the showers. As he’s getting dressed, and the players around him are planning where to hang out, he flicks at his phone to Facebook. He almost fumbles it. He has several messages from the Shane Hollander

Shane

Pretty sure I saw the opposite

And I’ll think about the other two

Maybe after our agents talk.

You are not as good as they say.

The picture gags him because it reminds him of what he posted to his feed, but this is obviously not a story at all but rather a private message.

Ilya

See final shot?

I am very good

He sends the wink over.

;)

“You coming out.” Andrea bumps his leg.

“Sure.” He sets his phone down again before hurrying to get changed. He glances at his phone once he gets in his car before he starts the engine.

Shane

Not enough to be celebrating I see

Ilya’s lip purse. He quickly searches and finds that the Montreal Stars won.

Ilya

You not out either?

I go to club with team

The bubbles are already appearing. Ilya smirks because that’s a good sign that the omega can’t resist messaging. This must mean he’s forgiving.

Shane

I was feeling tired.

Trying to go to sleep, so I put on your game

Ilya

But too exciting

I know. I play good

Ilya plays with his chain for a moment before finally the message springs forward.

Shane

Yeah, sure

Ilya

Talk to my agent

I play you. Be exciting

There is no reply, so Ilya puts his phone away and starts to drive to the club. Once he hands over his keys to the valet parking, he pulls out his phone. Another message has popped up. His heart beats just a tad bit faster like he’s just won a face off.

Shane

They would never allowed us to play

Ilya

You down

I am forgiven then

Shane

Dude, I thought you were going clubbing

Ilya

I can do both

Am very good like that

Nothing comes back after a moment and several of his teammates are up the way. His phone slips away, and he smirks. He enjoys feeling the bodies. Everyone swarms together in different primary and secondary genders. The music throbs. Alcohol tumbles down his throat while he sways letting everyone move in time with each other. Everything lusts with his vision while his head tips back to the side, and he gets a bit lost.

When he goes into the bathroom, he knows he needs water so that he can get back to his apartment safely. Shouldn’t have had the last drink cause now he’ll have to hand here for at least two hours, and he doesn’t want to spend the night here. He pops open his phone.

Shane

You need a better apology

I couldn’t tell you were apologizing

Ilya

I am sorry. Very sorry. English is not first language

I did not mean to offend you.

Forgive me

And Ryan too.

Ryan feels very bad, worse than me

The phone thumps on his hands before he slips it into his back pocket. He goes and flushes before forcing himself to find water and a table near his teammates to banter with. Easy to do so and forget about the world online while getting lost. He does start making out with a cute beta woman who has tinsel in her hair and very bright orange and red eyeliner that burns with her rich brown eyes. She has freckles that are painted on her cheek that glow with the dancing club lights.

It doesn’t turn into anything else, but he does enjoy that he has the moment of kissing and humming with her and even gets her phone number just in case. Once he slips back into the bathroom, he flicks his phone open.

Shane

I think that might be worse than your first, but fans do crazy things with messages

I accept your apology.

But I imagine from your reputation you will ruin this quickly

There is a little bubble of joy that Hollander is still up and willing to message him.

Ilya

I am very nice

Do not listen to anyone

They love me

Ilya rolls out again. Some have slipped away already, maybe people to sleep with, others to their families. He goes back to dancing after downing another glass of water. He gets in his car, and goes home. After he parks, he flops on the couch to check his phone. Nothing. Of course, the guy was in bed again. He rolls into the shower and then goes into bed.

Maybe he should have gone home with someone.

When he awakes, it’s late, but he can still get to the warmups this morning if he wanted to, especially since they have an away game tomorrow that they’ll have to travel for. He snaps up seeing that Callie has reached out as well as Zoey has left a voicemail as well.

But before either, he flicks to see if a certain omega has sent anything since last night when he may or may not have checked before tumbling into bed to see nothing.  

Shane

I’ve experienced you

I did reach out to my agent

Don’t know if I want to schedule a meet time

Nice offer but yeah kind of busy and all

Ilya pulls on his clothes while staring at the phone making a choice on how to exactly reply. So he starts simple.

Ilya

Good morning

It would be fun

You get to be in Boston

Or Montreal is nice, yes?

And then Ilya sends his phone number

I talk you into it, okay?

And then he gets his breakfast together before listening to the voicemail first from Zoey who is talking about ideas about what having a friendly competition with Shane could look like logistically as well as when they could fit that into their schedule.

Then he calls Callie on the drive over.

“I assume you’ve heard.” The voice sounds bore with him and the whole ordeal.

He sips on his coffee while he waits for the traffic light to turn green. “Yes, Hollander accepts my sorry.”

Callie hums. “I heard you private messaged him.”

 “It worked, yes?” He guns his engine because of course Hollander told, but he doesn’t regret it even if it looks a little bad that he kind of begged at least begged for a Russian to get Hollander’s attention.

“It did, but now we have to get approval.”

“Okay. Talk then?”

Ilya gives a huh before tipping his head to the side to check his blind spot as he switches over to head onto the highway. “What are you comfortable with?”

“Do All-Star Skills stuff.” Because that would show diversity, and Shane might beat him on speed. It would be close, but there was that high chance. But then again, he could win on something else. Or it could be close. Having some sort of social media thing would be fun.

“What about just a press conference?”

“I say I want to play him. Would not be good?”

“I don’t know if we can get everyone on board.”

“I want to play him.”

He can hear the sigh over the phone.

“I say so. I like to play him.”

“As you’ve said.”

“Good idea. Tell them.”

“Right, and we’ll note whatever else we are thinking of,” Callie says. “Anything else.”

“I can go to Montreal. He busy man.”

“And you know this?”

“I not tell you.”

“Are you private messaging him. You better not have a sex scandal break out. I don’t want to deal with that if they get posted everywhere. You hear me?”

Ilya gasps. He is keeping it all innocent and as if he didn’t have to try and smooth talk his way to this moment. Sure, Shane Hollander is cute. He can see that. It’s easy to see that. He’d be dumb not to see it, but at the same exact time, he’s not going to bring it up. He’s also not going to do that to a fellow hockey player. Maybe if Shane seemed interested. “No, I respect my fellow hockey players.”

“Right.”

“You are so mean,” he doesn’t mean it, and she probably knows it.

“He does not play in the league.”

“He plays hockey, yes?”

“Yes, he does. I’ll talk to you at the rink.”

Ilya will not be going out of his way to talk to her, and it sounds like at least for the first part of the day, she’ll avoid it too.

People are getting warmed up and changed as well. It’s all causal. A few of his teammate’s chat about what they got up to last night. He banters a bit but at the same time most of what he contributes is a smirk and a few short words. Occasionally, it is tough to interact with everyone in the locker room because English is not his first language. Of course, not everyone on the team is American or Canadian but most of them are and banter in the tongue.

He checks his phone quickly just in case.

Shane

I have like three jobs

It’s not like I get payed anything to play hockey.

Okay, so Hollander is ignoring the phone number. Maybe it was too presumptuous. Probably see med like Ilya was trying to flirt with him or move on but that wasn’t the case. He just felt maybe that it would be better, easier to see or even, who knows what. Ignore it just like he did would probably be the best answer.

Ilya

This omega thing? Not getting paid

I am sorry

Even Adidas not pay you much?

Ilya goes out and skates his heart out getting his warmups in before having some fun on the ice. Relaxes chatting before having their official training that afternoon which he burns through. Then he works with the staff to stretch out and try and make sure he doesn’t get injured at all. Keep in shape as some of his teammates call it.

When he checks Facebook, there are several messages.

Shane

Fighting in the court also costs a lot

But yeah, omegas get paid a lot less

Yeah for the amount of fans and tv coverage and ads maybe it’s equal

But not enough to live on unless you’ve played for a while and even then…

Or are really frugal

Ilya may have to Google frugal to get a translation on that.

Chapter 7: Shane: Extending Your Energy

Chapter Summary

Shane plans out his next meeting with Ilya Rozanov, and people around him react.

Chapter Notes

Thank you for all the Kudos and Comments. They are all so lovely. They mean the world to me right now!!!!

First off, Shane made the regretted choice to switch to text. It felt safer than continuing to private message on Facebook. Something about it being on Facebook felt risky, but at the same time, text had its own barriers. Rozanov seems thrilled, and it is easier to keep track of. Rozanov is not influencing his decision, or so Shane tells himself as he stares at the resignation letter to the coach for the team he coaches. The Pee-wee and skating lessons are making him more money and can bend to his schedule better. He’s got to let something off his plate. His parents are right. Even Rozanov being shocked at how much he does, it makes him think maybe he needs to lessen his burden so that he doesn’t burn his body out. This is a good choice.

He says this even when he has to tell his coach and team about leaving. It stings. Burns but for the long run this is for the best.

He drinks an extra Ginger Ale to try and make it better.

When he and Farah meet in person for coffee, it is before he heads back to the rink to help as assistant coach since he promises to keep being assistant coach for another two weeks as they look for a replacement or sub. Tomorrow, they have another home game before going on the road for three games. They will be in Boston, New York, and Chicago.

“How are you doing?”

“Okay.” Shane nods. He tries not to act like he and Farah aren’t waiting for another email from his lawyers or how everything is still built up because he’s been playing phone tag about meeting up with Rozanov.

“Are you sure?”

Farah adjusts her cup before. “Yeah, the social media has chilled a bit.”

“Yes, it seems they are okay with how it is.”

Farah hums before looking at the serve delivering their coffee. “Thank you.” She starts to stir her cup with a hum. “So they have offered that while you are in Boston, it is a day off. He comes to your game, and you do some sort of press before or after the game.”

“With,” he flicks his eyes since they are in public.

“Yes, kind of have press together. He wants to do some sort of a competition like speed skating or shot competition.”

That’s what Shane would prefer.

“We have talked with your group, and you could fly while the bus takes the team if you want to hang out the day after in the morning, and we do like something for YouTube and Instagram and maybe even ESPN or something picks it up do something fun. He’s playing that night. He’s offered to get you tickets as well, but he also knows you need to fly out to meet your team in New York.”

Shane plays with his nose for a second before taking a spit of the strong coffee.

“You don’t have to do anything. It’s settling down. Let is lie.”

“Does it help my chances?”

“Press is good because people start talking.”

“Good press though?”

“He’s one of the best up and coming players. Rookie of the year and so forth. He’s not liked by most of his opponents.”

Shane plays with his lip.

“He makes enemies.”

The cups clink around them while he crosses his ankles watching Farah as she glances at her computer probably with all the information and plans.

“So what are you thinking?”

“I retired from Coaching.”

Her eyes lock on him with a squint. “Good or bad?”

“The Adidas deal means that I can have a little wiggle room.” He shrugs. “So just trying to stay focused on what is important.”

“I’m proud of you then.”

“Thanks,” he whispers. “I’m still helping the youngers, and maybe if this doesn’t work out, I just leave the lawyers and stuff.”

“Shane.” Farah has a very mixed expression.

“No, it’s okay.” Little waves sway on the top of his coffee.

“It’s not. I understand why you might want to give up, but we are close. You and several players are able to break through soon. I feel it.”

The door bangs causing Shane to jump a little before glancing back to Farah.

“I wish I could promise that it will be tomorrow and that you just have to fight, but I support your decision. It’s not tomorrow either. Maybe another few months, year?”

“Yeah.” His legs knock against the bottom of his chair.

“Okay, but right now, press is good press. Is that the mentality we want to keep?”

“I guess,” but sometimes it makes his stomach turn.

“We don’t have to do anything.”

“But we should.”

“It’s good momentum, and Rozanov, no matter how much of a douche he seems to be, is at least somewhat pro you being part of the NHL. That is a big friend in power.”

“Do we have to do an interview?”

“Probably, if you want them to pay you or cover expenses.”

What can they do then that makes it worth it and shows that he is more than just an omega player but as valuable as anyone else? “Can we do like do an interview and then a fun little competition?”

“What are we thinking?”

“Shot accuracy and fast skate.”

“Is that because those are you better two?”

Shane can’t hide the smirk even if he wanted to.

Farah laughs because she’s with him all the way. “We’ll see if they accept those two. Fast skate might be hard just logistically for fairness, but we could do stickhandling.”

“That would work.”

“Can you arrange the day after the game then?”

“Yeah.” Shane hums.

“And we are making sure that Adidas is on our side and maybe they can pay for the hotel or something if you promise to wear their shoes during the interview.”

Shane hums taking a sip of his coffee before rolling his feet together. “Sure.” But he can find a way to pay if he has to.

“And would you be fine with Rozanov coming to a game.”

“Do we have to pay for a ticket?”

“I doubt it. His team seems a little too eager to have you.”

The eyebrow shoots up naturally.

“I know, but it sounds like Rozanov is pushing for it as well.”

“Yeah.” And those private messages that have turned into texts show that, but if he’s really a douche for everyone in NHL then maybe that’s to manipulate Shane and nothing more. He did seem like a flirt.

He goes to practice in the afternoon and is there to play hockey. Then he helps with the hockey team and lastly heading towards the back room before getting his phone seeing a string of message from Rozanov. That guy.

Ilya

I am very fast and accurate. You will not beat me

I am very happy though

Competing will be fun

You happy, yes?

Shane

Fits with my schedule

Glad you’re happy

I will win by the way

Shane slowly gets ready until his phone buzzes making him glance back with a roll of his eyes.

Ilya

You picked the games

Shane

You insulted me, if I remember correctly

Ilya

I will still beat you

I am very good

Shane

So you keep say

Ilya

Do not lie? You watch many of my games

Shane rolls his eyes before heading to his old Honda before heading home ignoring the hum of his phone until he pulls in.

It’s Farah, so he calls her as he walks up to the apartment.

“They want to do an official announcement tomorrow. They have it hooked up to ESPN as well as a local network. So, two interviews.”

Shane hums playing his keys. “Okay.”

“And they say accuracy and stickhandling would be easiest to set up.”

“Okay.”

“We need another meeting to field questions that they want to ask and make a plan on how to answer.”

“Okay.”

“Now I’m not thinking you are okay.”

Wipes his face because his whole flesh feels ill fitted to his body, and there is an itch in him even though he took heat this summer, it’s bristling his flesh alongside all the suppressants he takes, and he hasn’t slept well since this summer and maybe not even then, and nothing has excited him besides playing a hockey game in a long time and now he’s feeling something bubble every time this asshole of an alpha from a NHL team texts. Maybe it’s just jealousy and nothing more.

“Did I lose you Shane?”

“No, I’m just tired, I guess. Maybe coming down with something.”

“Do you need to see a doctor?”

He chokes a laugh. “Naw, I need some food, maybe like ginger ale, and bed.” Grabs at his throat before leaning against the barren kitchen counter.

“Okay, well, I’ll email you details and call you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Farah. Really thank you.”

“Always, I’m here for you Shane. Bye.”

“Yeah, bye.” He hangs up tapping the phone on his chin before it buzzes.

Ilya

I buy tickets by penalty box, so I can wave at you

Like Shane said, an asshole.

He calls his dad who answers and starts talking about a New Yorker article he had read about the increased fighting for omega rights in testing for medicine since most meds are only tested on betas and alphas, and it’s nice to have his dad mad for him and other omegas. Shane hums alongside every line of his dad until his mom takes over and shares about recent updates in the hockey world. He swears his mom knows more about hockey then he does. Itches at his neck while he eats the soup at his little bar counter chatting with his mom and dad about different topics before laying his head down.

“Are you okay Shane?” His mom’s voice asks with her diagnosis tone.

“Yeah, yeah mom, just tired.”

“Are you sure?” His dad asks.

“I got an interview set up with Ilya Rozanov.”

“The fucking alpha from the Boston team that insulted you?” His mom’s voice goes up a level.

“Mom.”

“No, why are they making you do that?”

 He plays with a loose chunk of his cuticle. “I chose to.”

“Oh.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t pressure?” His dad chimes in probably leaning closer to the phone as if he could try and see through it.

“Well, it’s press.”

“I wish you didn’t have to be in the same room as him.”

“Mom, I’ll be okay.”

“He’s an asshole. I’ve been doing research.” He can picture his mom putting on her glasses to look in her notebook. “Absolutely rude to people. Cocky, so cocky. He’s rude to everyone not just omegas. He did an interview his rookie year about how many goals he could make. Winning all these things, I mean I’d heard his name and seen stuff, but you know how little I care about interviews. I am there for the game, and it’s Boston.” She says it like Boston is a curse word that bitters her tongue and whole world. “First round draft. You would have been if they had let you. You know that baby.”

“Mom.”

She was so sweet like that to carry his dreams up, but he would have been lucky to even be picked in the round drafts if they had let him and other omegas be in the drafts. He probably would have to beg for a spot on a team and not even be first line. “I’m sorry honey. You would have beat him. You are the best player.”

“Thank you,” he whispers before putting his bowl in the sink.

“So you are just doing an interview?” His dad asks.

“No, we are doing a small competition between Rozanov and me.”

“You will beat him,” his mom says without a doubt in her voice.

“What are you doing?”

“Shot accuracy and stickhandling,” Shane says.

“Did they not take speed skating.”

“No, I suggested it.”

“Shane, you’ve got both of those,” His dad said.

“I’m not saying that David.”

“I’m being supportive.”

Shane tries not to laugh because his parents are whispering on speaker phone.

“I know David. I just wanted to make sure. You know he was on skates before he could walk.”

“Thank you for supporting me,” he says.

“Always,” both of them say.

Shane smiles as his dad starts talking about some drama at work and then his mom shares some things happening with his aunt. He heads to bed collapsing leaving Ilya on read.

In the locker room before the game, he’s there as others start to trickle in. Several starts applauding him before Joe huffs at them.

“You are ruining my routine.”

Danny cackles. “But Hollander gets to hang with the hottest Alpha in hockey.” Then he wolfs whistles.

Renea groans. “I have never wanted to punch an alpha more.”

“That’s a lie,” Naomi says before handing off Shane’s back.

He elbows her. “It’s for PR.”

“Duh,” one of the players hollers. “Everyone hates him.”

“Any public view is good,” another says.

Why do people keep saying that?

“I bet Joe is jealous,” Renea barely gets out before Joe throws her shoulder pad at her.

The room descends into chaos and Shane is just happy that the focus isn’t on him any longer.

They win their game against Quebec that week.

His phone buzzes after the game while Naomi and him are chatting. He glances to see Rozanov’s name before quickly turning it back off.

“You good?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just stressing about the whole Boston thing.”

“You could have said no.” Naomi slaps a hand on her hip.

“It’s press.” Shane walks out to the parking lot into the cold wind.

“It’s terrible press. Everyone hates him.”

“But I get to bring light about omegas in sports.”

“Is it worth it to your mental health?”

“Fighting?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant.”

Shane plays with his car keys in his pocket trying to keep his fingers from going numb.

“Being around Rozanov. He’s not going to support you or the cause.”

“He won’t make it worse. And I’ve heard everything.”

“Don’t curse yourself.”

Shane glares over.

“What? And reports, especially ones who interview and love the NHL hate us. Okay, they hate us.”

“We are vetting the questions.”

“What if they don’t stick to the script?”

Shane prays that doesn’t happen.

“I’m just trying to support you.” Naomi hugs him. “Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too.”

They part. He turns on his car before he glances at his phone.

Ilya

Good game

Shane smiles before tapping.

Shane

Thanks

Immediately, bubbles pop up. His stomach pits.

Ilya

Talk in Boston, yes?

Shane

Yeah

Ilya

Dinner maybe afterwards

I pay?

Shane drives home before texting.

Shane

Maybe. It would have to be nice

And then he ignores his phone for the rest of the night.

Chapter 8: Ilya: Interview Questions are Dumb

Chapter Summary

Ilya deals with the media, his own feelings, and messaging Shane as he prepares to see the omega play again and try to have a better meeting then the first time around.

Chapter Notes

All the love and kudos and comments mean so much to me. I can't believe how much you all are loving this fic, and it means the world to me. It is really helping me right now as I'm dealing with the last of my finals (aka I may or may not have been spending some of my writing time as a way to procrastinating from papers and studying), work, family, and just whole bunch of other things. I can't wait for the new episode, and I hope you love this little update. I do have up to chapter 13 planned up, and I'm hoping with free time once school is on break that I can knock out a few chapters a week in this fic as well as my other two WIPs.

Lots of love!!!!! Stay safe!

“So, are you going to see the Montreal Stars this week?”

Ilya cocks his eyebrow while sweat still burns from the game. “Yes.”

The room is buzzing, and he can feel the groan as the navy suit man walks away in the back of the room while mics press into his space.

That only makes the smirk rises. “I like to see good hockey.” Because that causes tension here, but also probably in far off rooms and from stuffy boring alphas who don’t like a good competition.

“Are you mending things with Shane Hollander?” a female reporter asks.

“I meant no insult. I meant to…praise him. He good player.” Ilya tips his head. Why the internet and media kept twisting everything is horrible? Sure, it did connect him with Shane, which he is not mad about at all. He’s kind of glad about that, but still, they are trying to make them hate each other, and that’s very mean.

“So, omega players are better than you?”

Ilya cocks his eyebrow. “Me no.” His palms plant on his hips. “But most players in this league? A good number seem to be, yes.”

A man’s voice grates his nerves. Some Alpha who thinks too much of himself probably. “Do you think it’s because they are playing other omegas?”

It takes him a second to process what is being said and to then translate an answer that doesn’t include the word fuck you. “Maybe you should look other way.” That smirk burns as he looks down at the reporter. “We are not as good as them.”

The room both chuckles and tenses.

“Would you do a competition? Like shot accuracy.”

His tongue runs over his lips. This was all out there. Why were they asking him dumb questions? “Yes.”

Someone else stands. “Who would win?”

“Close race.” He winks. “But I am faster.”

The room keeps layering questions. “You seem confident.”

“I am very good.” Ilya leans back with a sway of his hand. “But I think many would lose to Shane Hollander and other omegas. They are very good like I tell you.”

The interview peppers questions. Some are very long and difficult to track while he talks, and he hopes that he is answering them in a way that is truly the best. However, at the same time, he’s really struggling to keep up. He’s glad when some come back to hockey before the signal is put out to end. He goes to play with his hand before stepping to the side and nodding to the reporters and going to the back room.

He gets a wolf whistle before rolling his eyes. Cliff Marleau huffs flicking his head towards Ilya. “You really playing him?”

“For fun,” Ilya says.

“You going to let the omega beat you.”

Ilya turns to stare over at the hated eyes of the Alpha, Gage. He hates Prescott with every bone for that. “He could beat you.”

That starts a yelling match but at least Marleau is on his side for most of it alongside Isla and Stephen. The coaches step in with a yell and that does settle things down.

When Ilya marches out seething, Marleau and Isla are behind him.

“I didn’t mean to cause a problem, Rozanov,” Marleau says.

“Yeah.” He just wants to leave and get away from these jerks because he doesn’t he’ll throw them into the floor and make their faces more appropriate.

“It’s a good thing,” Isla says. “He’s just jealous of you.”

“I am best, so expected,” rolls off of Ilya’s tongue without a second thought.

“Always about you,” Marleau mutters.

“I do it for omega sports. He comes close to beating me, could beat most.”

“It’s a good fight. Just don’t mess it up.” Isla turns back around.

“And don’t get mad if he beats you,” Marleau says.

“Fuck you.” But Ilya says it with a smirk as he heads out. When his phone cools in his hand, he peers to see a message.

Shane

Congrats on the win

So the man does watch his games. Ilya forces the warmth away that started to burn up his cheeks. As he plays with his shirt collar before starting up his car and heading towards a club that his team won’t be at. He messages Svetlana but doesn’t expect a response at all. When she messages a simple Busy, he scratches the itch by messaging back to Hollander.

Ilya

Nice, yes?

He pockets the phone before slipping into the crowd of bodies swaying. His soul wishes to get lost and just bury into the bodies and souls. Hips sway. Drink swirls his hands. Glad he took a taxi here because he’s planning to get lost. Nothing about this can change who he is. He tries kissing a nice beta male against the wall hoping the darkness hides who he is. Instead, it feels stiff. He slips away with a wink as if he doesn’t care that the beta looks upset before heading back and finding another drink because he needs to be drunk.

The next day, he comes in late because he can. He warms up a bit in the gym before getting ready to practice on the ice. Several are whispering and stop when he struts back in.

Ward gives him the side eye.

Rozanov gives him a sass look back.

“Seen your interview,” of course Arola is stepping in with a wink.

“Just say it. You think I hot. Flattered.” Rozanov flutters his hand watching the Finnish guy go a little pink before huffing.

“We know what you are trying to do,” Ward huffs.

Rozanov pulls of his shirt before grabbing for his gear and slipping on his compression shirt to go under his gear.

“You trying to fuck the omega player, Roz?” Ward says, which makes the bones of Ilya’s feet itch because what the fuck was that.

“What did you say?” Ryan stands up.

Now there is really nothing to be said about Ryan besides that he will defend people even if they aren’t there.

Rozanov steps between the pair but faces Ryan. “Not worth it.” Because sure he wants to still lay in several players face from yesterday, he can’t. That’s not going to improve anything. He can take it out on a bag or during a game, but if he wants to try and even get close to winning a cup, they have to get along. And with the way that Ward has been playing, he’s getting traded next season.

Ryan’s face is swollen in anger though with eyes. “You don’t get to speak like that,” he screeches before turning around.

“Yeah, run, run listen to the Russian.”

Rozanov flips around with his coolest face on and smirks. “You think you are funny. Wait until omegas take your job.”

“Omegas.” Ward howls. “They can’t skate for shit.”

“You can’t skate for shit,” Stephen huffs under his breath.

“I can’t wait until you are skating on another team so I can laugh and not cry when you fall,” Isla rolls over her tongue.

“What the fuck?” The stupid alpha roars.

Rozanov snorts. “You are scared. You not want omegas here cause you know you gone. I help…”

“You fucking asshole.”

“You can’t skate. You can’t defend. You wonder why no one invites to All star game? You bad. You like…”

“Your full of shit Rozanov.”

“You are just a little scared Alpha who don’t know….

Ward comes for Rozanov if that moment grabbing at Rozanov’s undershirt before Stephen snaps at Ward as several others.

“Don’t let coach see you,” Arola snaps at Ward.

“Fuck you,” Ward roars before jerking on his gear.

But Rozanov knows how to get under the skin on the ice, and he drives Ward up a wall until the coach has to basically yell at both of them for not keeping it level on the ice and acting like a ‘fucking team’ as the coach put it.

It only feels better after he’s showered and has a towel around his waist and picks up his phone to see Shane has texted him back. His heart flutters deep in his chest before he opens them up.

Shane

It was pretty good

You got to work on your passing game though

How cold is it in Boston right now?

That’s a dumb question, sorry, you can ignore. I looked it up.

Ilya can’t help but smirk because it is cute that Shane’s doubting a bit and…okay don’t think like that. This is someone that Ilya is trying to help not fuck, he’s cute yes, but keep his head even and just help the omega out nothing more.

Ilya

You play perfect. No comments

Is cold

Not cold as Russia though

He tries not to smile too much. Part of him then curls a little because maybe both of those texts are too flirty, but he could probably say something about his English not being good if Shane got upset about it.  Or maybe that first texts sound more like Ilya saying that about himself not Shane as a compliment. Maybe he should have read it twice before sending the first thing on his head because maybe then that weird feeling would have settled down.

Forces himself to crane his head back before forcing himself to start fussing around his apartment. He’s gotten into the bad habit of just dropping things on the floor rather than putting it where he wants. When he starts doing laundry, his phone buzzes.  

He does jump for the phone. He’s a Russian. That would be undignified if anything.

Instead, he struts. Yes, that is the word for it.

Shane

Perfect?

That gives me no help. If I didn’t have the internet, I would never ask you again for a temperature gage.

Ilya

Yes, I am perfect

Okay, maybe he should have thought twice about that because the typing lines appear and then vanish.

Shane

Fuck you

And he deserved that. The metal chain of his necklace rubs his tongue.

Ilya

Hmmm not yet

Shane

You are a jerk

Ilya drops his necklace onto his shirt before fumbling to get the cross to the front.

Ilya

Meant no insult

Joking, okay?

It’s taking too long. He should finish switching his laundry or do something because this is miserable, and he’s ruined it. He’s going to call up the match, and he’ll never see Shane Hollander again. His face is going red. Stop it. He needs to get laid. Go to the club. Find a nice man or women, any gender, with freckles.

Fucking hell.

Why did he have to think about freckles?

Shane

Okay

And that’s it. Ilya drops the phone and quickly goes around cleaning up.

But Shane doesn’t call it off which is some relief.

Ilya plays his last game before the Montreal Stars are playing in Boston. The interview alongside his captain who is retiring this coming year (which is leaving the spot very nicely open for Ilya) as well as a few other teammates chatting up the press. Of course, they bring up Shane Hollander who hasn’t messaged him all day, but also his agent has called anyone to cut off the whole game. Ilya nots scared, he’s giving space. It’s important to give space let things rest and not make things worse again. Best to step back. He’s not a coward. He’s nice. Yes, he’s being nice cause the internet is an asshole, and he’s not going to make it worse. He watched maybe two hours of Shane Hollander on YouTube last night to support him. Part of him groans because even that sounds pathetic.

“So is it true you are going to watch the Montreal Stars tomorrow?”

“Yes.” He says after a pause before flicking his eyes.

“Why are you not supporting the Boston Bulldogs?”

Cause they don’t have Shane Hollander? No that sounds bad. “I go to support both teams.”

“Which jersey will you be wearing?”

Shit, he didn’t have a jersey. He wished he was at a table instead of having several reports crowd with their mics stuck by his face and sweat from the game still glued to his cheeks and spine. He shrugs and then winks because that’s apparently his go to that makes the reports move on.

“Are you dating Shane Hollander?”

That makes his mouth goes dry. He moves slightly closer. “No.” Because even though he wants to say, none of their business as if to keep a mystery or just ignore it, he’s already ruined Shane Hollander on the internet meaning he’s got to let it remain on the ground.  

“What are your plans to do with Shane Hollander while he is here?”

He’s got a dinner reservation, wants to make things up, and beat him on the ice for the fun of it. Also see Shane Hollander win as well and…a few things else, but none of that will happen. Again, he really needs to get laid. “Watch game, meet him, this time better, and play some one-on-one hockey, fun, yes?”

Several at least laugh. “What will your game look like?”

His tongue flicks. “Watch?”

“Can you tell us anything?”

“Read messages,” he responds with a cock of his head.

“What about the interview?”

“Will we get another Instagram post?”

“Do any of your teammates plan on watching the game?”

“What do your teammates think of this meeting?”

“Do you have any personal plans with Shane Hollander?”

“What do you think of the leagues stance on omegas?”

He wishes this was in Russian. Finally, he’s getting directed away and just nods with a smirk and struts off without glancing back. No hesitation or doubts. Instead, he gives on answer.

“You are very nosy.” And then he winks and walks away.

When he gets home and starts cleaning up his kitchen after eating, his phone buzzes in his back pocket.

Flicks it out. Shane Hollander.

Shane

Saw your interview.

Not too bad

Ilya can’t tuck away the smile before twisting at his necklace and staring at the high washed dishes before clicking away.

Ilya

My English good, yes?

Shane

Yes, reporters are jerks though

I appreciate you fielding all those questions

It’s a lot

Ilya

Do not mind

You do it a lot too

Shane

Yeah, it’s intense

How did you know?

Well, he can’t talk about his rabbit hole tripping that caused him to see hours of Shane Hollander because then Hollander will think he is a creep and won’t spend time with him.

Ilya

They bad with alpha, you? A lot, yes?

Shane

One word for it yes.

Do you have your tickets?

Ilya

Yes

Teammates coming, okay?

Shane

Yeah, that’s fine

I mean, I’ll see who I can get back

Thanks for asking

Ilya wants to message a thousand things back, but instead, he picks something that seems cool and won’t drive off Hollander.

Ilya

Good, Ryan happy

Shane

The big guy right?

I mean I looked him up

And he was with you that first time

Ilya

I show him this

He will blush

Shane

It is not an insult

I did not mean it like that

I’m trying to remember

You are an Asshole

The laugh peaks from Ilya without a second thought as he keeps texting with Shane Hollander.

And the next day in causally black jeans, a V-neck, and his leather jacket, he marches into the stands towards the ice remain neutral before him. Ilya walks down the row as if multiple people and cameras are not looking at him or like he’s not with the three dorks that came with him last time. At least Isla and Stephen have their spouses this time, so maybe they will be saved from half of the embarrassment of looking like Alpha stalkers to an omega team. He messes with his beanie as if it’s doing anything to hide him because it’s known or going to be known on Instagram at least that he’s here at the game. It’ll probably get shared on the screen which will get shared on YouTube, which will be on some sort of show even if it’s not ESPN, it’ll float around.

Maybe it’ll bring the buzz again.

Or maybe it will be enough to settle the issues for Hollander to a point.

They banter a little bit before they cheer as they Montreal team comes out and then the Boston Bulldogs just to make it equal, not that Ilya is looking at the Bulldog players because Shane Hollander is sat with his team chatting before glancing out. Part of Ilya hopes that Hollander can see him tucked in the nice seat with a good view of the ice, but then again, it’s unlikely. He wishes that they could have sat closer, but then again wondering about the press and even curious fans it was probably better that they could be tucked a little bit away from the ice.

They play a good game, and Montreal Stars win by two points. 5-3. And then they head down to be escorted to meet Shane Hollander.

He’s not nervous.

Not at all.

Because he’s not going to fuck this up this time around.

Chapter End Notes

Has anyone else made a Heated Rivalry Music Playlist...because I have. Many are songs from fire edits that are being made and do feel so Ilya and Shane coded. :)

Chapter 9: Shane - Boston Moments

Chapter Summary

Shane hangs with Rozanov and has to deal with his own worry and others.

Chapter Notes

Thank you so much for all the love!!! I can't believe how many sweet comments I've gotten and just the sheer number of kudos. You all are just keeping me going. My finals went great, so now I get to spend a little more time with this fic and can't wait to post a few chapters next week...hopefully that is because I don't want to curse myself.

Also this past episode. I've watched it three times and am still screaming!!!!!

He shouldn’t have clammy hands or be messing with his clothes rather than just getting dress. Where is the confidence? There is nothing to be worried about, and if Rozanov is being too much of a dick, he can back out. Most people in the league already hate Rozanov, so what would it matter if they add him to the list? They would probably side with him, and maybe for a moment, he would be popular. But then he’d be seen as weak. Assholes have been harassing him since he was in elementary hockey, so he can deal with one for less than twenty-four hours. He’s got this. He ties his shoe saying that over and over again in his head.

He swings his bag up with Naomi waiting for him by the door. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I can hang with you.”

Hollander really wants her there to act as a bit of a barrier. At the same time, there will be people to take photos and Rozanov said he invited a few friends if Shane didn’t mind having more people around to maybe help with that. At the same time, they are friends of Rozanov not of his, and if he could have a friend on his side, it would be nice. Just in case things go wrong, Naomi would be there for him.  

“If you want,” he says like it doesn’t matter.

“Dude, I could go to the hotel and snuggle up with a book and New Girl on. I don’t have to come.”

The side eye must share his thoughts of why she asked and is he being too much.

“But I want to support you.” She shoulder taps him. “Okay? I’m here for you. I’m friend, okay?”

“Just a few minutes.” To make sure it goes alright, and then she can go. He doesn’t want to take up her time as well since this was a social media stunt for him and Rozanov not anyone else.

“I got you.”

They walk into the room as Rozanov and his friends have been sat.

“Hollander,” Rozanov’s voice booms. “You play good hockey.”

A bit of flush tries to army crawl up Shane’s neck.

“He does,” Naomi agrees shaking Shane’s shoulder before reaching her hand out. “Naomi Starr.”

“Amazing to meet you,” Rozanov shakes it. “Good win.”

“We feel bad for the Boston Bulldogs,” a woman to the side says. 

There is a side to her from the woman who had been with Rozanov in Montreal.

The woman doesn’t back down, which is kind of nice. “What? I can have an opinion even if I love you Hollander. I mean my little girl has a poster of you. She’s an omega too.”

Shane can’t help but have a smile because any passion about omega sports is amazing to see. “Really? I’d sign something for her.”

The beta with her says something under his breath before glancing up.

“I am still a Boston Bulldogs fan.”

“You got be loyal.” His own mom who does adore him and the Montreal Stars, but she has been a hockey fan since she was a child and has her own loyalties in the NHL.

“See, exactly my point.” She crosses her arm. “Stephen did bring a small poster.”

The beta, who must be Stephen chokes a bit before glancing over. “My girls do love you.”

Shane laughs. “We could get you a hat or something.” He looks over to catch their only PR person, Priya’s eye. She slips away hopefully to grab something. “You liked the game.”

“Amazing,” the giant guy blurts out.

“Hollander, Ryan,” Rozanov steps in. “Big fan.”

“Stop it,” Ryan mutters before focusing. “I just, I love sports and all that you’re doing.”

“Thank you.” Shane shakes his hand before stepping back to stare at the group. Usually, big fans were not hockey players that had respect for him. This was a lot.

“We always love big fans,” Naomi reaches her hand out.

Their conversation is stilted but at least it gets better once Priya returns, and he can sign a few things for them. Several leave talking about baby sitters and eventually it is just him, Naomi, Priyah, a staff person, and Rozanov.

“So, dinner still?”

“Yeah,” Shane tucks his hands into his back pocket.

“Dinner?” Naomi’s eyebrow might as well have shot to the moon.

“Sorry, saved for two.” Rozanov put his hand up with two fingers.

“Really?” Naomi’s hands cement on her hips.

“Yes, I am sorry. Show it, yes?” Rozanov cocks his head. “Jealous maybe.” The words are spun with a flick of his eyes.  

Naomi makes a disgusting noise. “For an egotistical alpha. Thank you, but I love my omega woman who understand what’s good for the world.”

Rozanov cocks his head. “Good for you. Know what you like.”

Naomi starts to open her mouth, but Shane grabs her wrist and begs that she doesn’t keep feeding the fire and maybe embarrasses him because she only knows he doesn’t really date. She might guess that he likes men especially beta and alpha males, but she doesn’t know for sure. And if she hints at it or attacks Rozanov in a way that brings up homophobia, then Shane will walk away from this. And if that gets out, then he’ll be the bad guy not Rozanov for plenty of hockey fans who still often view same gender relationships and ungodly. Maybe Rozanov isn’t like that. But there must be a lot that are.  

“Sorry ‘bout food, but we go, yes?”

Naomi tugs at Shane’s arm.

The wince is probably not hidden because he doesn’t want to deal with her as she’s often right and will probably be right about this. “Yeah, sure, I just have to grab a few things.”

“I drive you?”

Shane hasn’t thought through that portion. Getting in a car of an Alpha had been what he had been warned against in many school PSAs and even by his parents who did not like the idea of him wandering off as a teen. He is far from a teen, but that little voice still shouts at him. And what if the media sees. Sure, Rozanov basically told the media to fuck off with his ‘you are very nosy’ bit, and if something shows up, then it might scrape everyone. Not only would that smear on Rozanov who might never want to talk to him again just to avoid the rumors, it would also put another barrier on the possibility of omegas breaking through. It’s not like Shane doesn’t believe players can’t fuck each other. Joe is currently dating someone who used to play hockey and is now retired due to an injury. And it happens a decent amount in the omega league.

“Hollander?”

“What?”

“Drive you?”

“Sure, sure.” And he about drags Naomi out. “I’ll meet you at the exit,” he barely fumbles out and hopes that Rozanov heard him.

“Dinner? What in the fuck are you thinking?” Naomi is hissing and shouting at him.

“I know,” his tongue has swollen three times its original size pressing against his cheek. Why did he agree to let Naomi stay with him.

“Do you?” Her arms fling into the air. “You are going out with him on what date?”

He shoves into the locker room glad that is empty. “It’s not a date.”

“It is so date.” Her hands bang her head.

He jerks open the locker letting it bang. “It’s not.”

“He thinks it is.” Her hand flings towards the door. “He for sure thinks you are going to date him.”

“No, he doesn’t,” squeaks from his mouth.

“Anytime an alpha can get an omega alone…”

“Stop it.” He’s screaming not only her but his mind which is screeching everything he’s been warned about and the horror stories of alphas.

“They want to fuck.” She’s in his space.

His back stiffens, and he drops his bag on the floor.

“It’s true.”

His jaw ticks.

“You should not go out with him.”

“I shouldn’t have let you stay.”

She steps back with a glare down. “He’s going to ruin this for you.”

“No.” His tongue presses into his back teeth.

“Do you like him?” She gets closer. “Huh, do you? You want to go down as a WAG not some player.”

Shakes his head.

“Ugh, why are you doing this?”

“Would you stop it,” he snaps.

“Do you like him?”

“NO!”

“Say it again. That you don’t like him. That you don’t want him to lay you down and fuck you.”

His throat bobs at the thought of the buff six foot three Russian leaning over and laying him out on cotton sheets and kissing at his throat because the smell, even sweaty, creeps as heaven with a musky undertone.  

“Fuck. Fuck Shane. Don’t go with him.”

“I don’t want to fuck him,” he says, but he doesn’t even believe it now that he thought about it.

Her back presses into the visitor lockers making them squeak. “You can’t let him fuck you.”

“I’m not.”

She wipes at her face before flicking her eyes. “You will share your location.”

“Naomi…”

“No, no.” Her hands clap. “You don’t get to Naomi me. You are sharing that location. You are texting me updates.”

“You can’t stay up.”

“Watch me.”

“We have a game.”

“I can sleep all day tomorrow.”

“Okay.” It sounds more like a whimper.

“And you can call a cab. I will pay for the cab.”

He shoulders the bag putting his hands into his jacket.

“And reservations. Shane. Where is he taking you?”

Shrugs.

“Ugh, you have to text me that too.”

“You can’t just continually stalk me.”

“For your safety and that you don’t make a dumb choice, yes.”

“I haven’t dated since I’ve known you.”

Her lip twitches.

“Come on. And is he, my type?”

“I think he is.”

His girlfriend had been an Alpha in high school. Everyone knows this, but they only had sex twice, and it was awful at least for him. They had broken up shortly before he got a contract with the Montreal Stars at seventeen.

“Fuck Shane.”

“I don’t like men.”

Her eyes just look sad now.

“Really.” He plays with the pockets. “Okay. I’ve never fucked a guy, and I won’t, okay. I won’t change that. This is business. That’s it.”

“I hope it is Shane because Alphas like that only care about themselves, and you got a future. Assholes like Rozanov are not good enough for you. You can’t throw your future away cause some douche pays you attention.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Okay.”

“You do too.”

“What?”

“You have a chance to make it too.”

“No, Shane, I’m second line on an omega team.”

“You are a great player. You could beat half of Rozanov’s team.”

“You could.” She hugs him. “You’re so sweet Shane.” She kisses his head before tipping back. “Location.”

“Yes.” He drags out his phone.

He makes it out back to see Naomi standing with Rozanov. The amount of force it takes to evenly pace up, and before he gets there, Naomi waves and leaves. Such a dick.

“Ready?” the thick accent swirls the air.

“Yeah, yeah.” They walk out and of course, make it to a sports car. Maybe it’s a good sign that Rozanov doesn’t open the door for him as he basically has to fold down to get in the car.

“Good?”

“Yeah. This is a nice car.” Compared to his 200,000-mile piece of metal.

“Bought this year, with bonus.”

“Oh.” That must be nice. The last bonus came in as a new jersey from the sponsor, which did help but still.

“Dinner?”

“Uh, yeah, that sounds great.” He fiddles with his seatbelt. “Am I underdressed?”

“You are fine.”

He shouldn’t have believed Rozanov when valet parking and they stride in together.

Something deep in Shane’s chest wobbles as he walks beside Ilya who barely looks back while his palm is pressed on the glass window of the restaurant. The cool wood burns his fingers as he drifts in. It’s a fancier spot with quieter dining areas and staff dressed.

“Rozanov,” the Alpha says before him before they are guided back.

His parents occasionally like to go out to fancy places, but it feels different. There is a sweat bubbling under his hoodie while Ilya slips off his jacket over the back of the chair and his curls catch the dim lights over head shimmering more golden than it does in interviews or on the ice at least from this perspective.  

“This is nice,” Hollander whispers. “I should have brought a change of clothes.”

“You look nice.”

Hollander doesn’t look up because he might just glare at the Russian Alpha for not being honest with him.

“What is wrong? You all quiet.”

His eyes snap up. “I am in sweats and a hoodie.” That was a little sharper than he planned.

“You look good, very nice.”

Shane keeps glaring.

“I tell you next time.”

“Next time?” Croaks out.

“If we are friends, yes?”

Shane plants his feet because maybe his face is heating up, and both him and Naomi knew he was lying about his type.

And then a surprising question comes out Rozanov’s mouth. “What is recent news in fight to play?”

The sip of water that he forces down doesn’t help enough. “To play.”

“Yes, play hockey, against me. Where are we?”

“We?” His eyebrow shots up naturally because what is Rozanov talking about.

“Yes, we.” The lips turn into a firm line that isn’t backing down from the phrasing of the question.

Shane adjusts his water glass. “You really want to know?”

“Yes, big deal, no?”

“It is.”

“Then tell. I listen.”

And they talk about it. Hollander occasionally has to pause and explain. Rozanov asks follow up questions, asks about other players that Shane mentions, and even asks about how hockey with omegas is different compared to the NHL. He hopes that he’s answering everything correctly for the Alpha. At times, he gets lost or feels like he’s fumbling over words. But this is his passion. He blushes a bit when he thinks about it and realizes that Rozanov just ordered dessert for them, and that they’ve been here for over and hour and half just talking about hockey and the game and everything like that.

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly.

“For what?”

“I’ve been talking a lot. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“I ask question. I like answer.”

“I know, but it’s a lot.” Which it is. Even Naomi and other omega hockey players get bored of him doubling down. “I have to use the restroom.”

“Don’t run out.”

Shane goes red. “Maybe,” he says because he literally can’t think of anything else. He rushes into the bathroom to see a string of message from Naomi because he hasn’t texted since Rozanov was ordering himself the main course after Shane had gotten steak.

Naomi

whr is my m

huh

SHANE

u forget me

THIS IS RUDE

i ll show up

burst in

yell leave my friend alon

u get that

HUH SHANE MY FRIEND WHO HATES ME

u r the worst

jmo

but its true

never messaging me

leaves me here

going where art thou

like i’m some f shakespeare

think shane how emabaressing it is for me

n ill take all ur data

k

ill message until the lights run out

DO YOU READ THIS SHANE

im going to have a heart attck

on my headstone

SHANE HOLLANDER DID THIS TO HIS BESTIE

u r nt my bestie any more

btw

ugh

should i call the police

report u missing

ill do it

u know that

fr

i hate u

Shane

I am fine. Stop texting me

Naomi

STOP TEXTING HIM HE SAYS
HE LIVES AND THATS ALL HE SAYS TO HIS BESTIE

EX BESTIE BTW

YOU HEAR THAT SHANE HOLLANDER

Shane quickly uses the bathroom and washes his hand before messaging back.

Shane

Sorry, I lost track of time, and didn’t see it.

Naomi

u ve me silenced

HOW FUCKING DARING U

U IDIOT

Y AM I FRIENDS WITH U

that’s it

friendship done

called it

Shane

He’s treating me fine

He doesn’t want to fuck me

He just wants to chat about hockey and omega sports

Naomi

U R AN IDIOT

only a man who wants to fuck u asks about the boring things u like

Shane

Take that back

It is not boring

It’s important

Naomi

u r toooooo cuuuute to be soooooooo dumb

Shane

I’m going back

We are about to leave

After dessert

Naomi

SHUT THE FRONT DOOR

DESSSSSSERRRRTTTT!!!!!!!!

SHANE HOLLANDER WHAT R U DOING

Shane

Making a friend

so shut up.

He ignores her coming back out. Rozanov locks eye with him as soon as he comes from the bathroom area. Was he watching for him? Was he really nervous that Shane would dip away?

The dessert is on the table, so maybe he was gone a lot longer than he planned. Oops.

“Good?”

“Yeah, sorry, just had to text a friend.” And that’s not lie.

“Naomi. She said she track you. What mean?”

“Oh, it’s a phone feature,” he says before picking up his spoon. They have to share. And he’s fucking his diet up so bad. Maybe one quick bite to not be rude and to move on.

Rozanov nods. “You first.”

Shit that goes the plan to let him eat most. “Just a little. I’m on a diet.”

“You not use food in hockey?”

Shane can’t help but blush. “No, I do, but a diet is a good thing.”

“This is good.” He takes a bite of the dessert and hums.

“Well, it probably tastes good, but a lot sugar isn’t good for you.”

“I eat this…cake sometimes…it good.”

Of course, this guy does. He probably drinks a ton of alcohol during the season and splurges on mounds of pasta.

“I make you feel bad. You do not have to eat…but it is good. Few bites?”

“One or two.” Shane forces out. It is delicious. But he controls himself to two and answers a few of Rozanov’s question about diet, which a part of his stomach feels guilty about chatting over dessert because he’ll have to spend extra time in the gym to make this up.

Rozanov gets up.

“We have to pay.”

“Done.”

“The tip…”

“I give extra, very generous.”

“Generous?”

“Yes, generous.” Rozanov smirks as if he is proud of knowing the word.

“Okay.” They walk out. The valet grabs his car.

“Which hotel?”

Shane quickly rattles it off with the address and message Naomi that he’s leaving while ignoring the string of texts.

When they park in the hotel lot, Rozanov glances over. “Fun, yes?”

“Yeah, I liked talking about hockey and what’s important to me. And dinner really tasted great and was nice and private.”

“Good.”

Shane nods.

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m still doing it.”

The Alpha tugs at his own sleeves. “Car come get you?”

“Okay.”

“I wish to, but I have to talk to PR and stuff and get ready.”

“No, no that’s fine.”

“They take you to breakfast.”

“Probably nothing good.” Shane tips his head before scraping the heel of his shoe a bit on the sidewalk.

“Somewhere to get for diet, maybe?”

“Okay.”

“What eat?”

“An omelet. Fruit. Granola maybe or meat or some multigrain bread.”

“Done.”

“I could find…”

“No, you guest of Boston. You treated well here.”

“Okay,” Shane whispers.

“I can walk you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. Tomorrow.”

“Yeah, tomorrow.” Shane tries his hardest not to sound breathless as he leaves. He nods and then makes sure he doesn’t look back as he strides into the hotel.

He texts Naomi who meets him on the floor. “Well?” her eyebrow is sharp.

“He’s nice.”

“Nice?” The arms cross in front of her while her eyes squint. “You ignored me.”

He cringes. His whole team is going to hear.

“You are such an idiot. I hate you.” She stomps her foot.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

“Ugh, did he do anything weird?”

“Not really. He’s a bit of an ass sometimes, but he’s also nice.”

“And?”

“What? A car’s coming to get me to take me to the rink.”

“And?”

“Nothing else.” He gestures.

“Right?”

“I’m going to bed.”

“Don’t ignore me.”

He flips her off.

“Oh, come on. I’m doing this out of love.”

“I love you too,” he says before swiping into his room.

Denny rolls over glancing with sharp eyes.

“Come on.”

“What?” Denny shrugs.

“Just don’t say anything.” He fumbles to get his clothes to change into.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I could see it on your face.” Shane slams the bathroom door. He’s glad to see that Denny is on his phone watching something when he comes back out. He goes to bed.

He doesn’t want to have to deal with anyone else, and he actually sleeps pretty soundly.

Next morning while Danny is packing up to get on the bus, he snaps onto his own phone to see Naomi has texted as well as his mom.

Mom

Awwww, loved watching you win.

So proud of you baby.

What is going on baby? Could you call me when you have a moment

Shane

What’s wrong mom?

I’m in my room, but I could go to the lobby to call.

Mom

I saw the pictures, and wanted to check in

What? Shane’s head screams and then quickly searches up his name.

Shane flicks at the phone to see the first article with his name “Is Shane Hollander dating the Ilya Rozanov?” He drops the phone before forcing his legs against his chest and to take a firm meditating breath to avoid any tension to burn through him before he plays around to not see that stupid article that is put up by some dime group that is trying to get under his skin. He should stop looking himself. He’s just stupid. So fucking stupid. Why can’t he stop?

A car picks him up, and he’s glad that they are stopping at a breakfast spot where he can get some egg white omelet without cheese, some lean sausage, coffee, and vegetable medley that has way too much fat. Should have skipped it. He’s got a podcast in that won’t be talking about him or Rozanov or anything because it is from last year and reviewing information about skates and different blades.

He quickly messages his mom.

Shane

We were just talking business

It was nothing.

As he gets ready, she messages back.

Mom

Okay, just wanted to check

Just ignore them, they are trying to be rude and make omegas seem like less

Have fun today.

And beat Rozanov’s ass, and see what they are talking about tonight.

His laugh bubbles because his mom always knows how to cheer him up.

He manages to get into the car again kind of happy that Rozanov didn’t insist to meet him. Then he feels ashamed when he’s lead through the Boston rink because Rozanov is talking to the crew off the ice where they have set up a little area for them to be interviewed in the upper area where the ice is behind them. When he looks over though, his face changes and a smirk burns up as he flicks over ignoring the people behind him who get a face and start talking to each other with one yelling out once to Rozanov and then giving up.

“Hollander,” Rozanov’s accent flicks through the air in a sharp tone of saying his voice in a way that Shane almost wishes he could get him to say again. No, no, stupid, why is Shane like that? Shakes his head to focus again. “Hotel good?”

“Yes, yes, I never sleep great, but yeah.” Tosses a hand in the air before glancing over.

“Food good?”

Shane wishes his words wouldn’t fumble around his lips. “Yeah, yeah, always good to get coffee.”

“Yes, but American coffee, weak, for the babies, yes.”

Shane snorts because what was the guy even trying to say. “I guess.” Because he’s never had Russian coffee, so maybe it is stronger. The American coffee worked for him, and he’s gotten used to black coffee since it cuts back on any unnecessary caffeine. It’s the best way to get caffeine as well and get that boost.

“You agree. Good.”

They get into the interview with people getting them ready and chatting with him. His ears burn with the mic check and then they get sat down Rozanov and him beside each other and interview from the local station first across from them. It’s a nice-looking Boston woman.

“It’s an honor,” she shakes both their hands.

“Yes, big honor for you to meet the Shane Hollander and best player, me.”

Rozanov is such an ass.

The woman doesn’t seem to know how to reply. This should be fun.

Chapter 10: Ilya - Some Good Competition

Chapter Summary

Ilya gets to spend time on the ice with Shane.

Chapter Notes

Again, thank you for all the love you have been sending. It means the world to me!!!!!! I still can't believe how good the last episode was, and I can't wait for the next one!

Do note that I know like nothing about hockey. I also made Ilya's coach to be kind of a dick, so like, that's in this chapter.

Rozanov liked the Boston woman, Sherri, a lot better than the ESPN guy who seemed like a dick and kept asking very omegaphobic questions that made Rozanov want to punch him, but instead, he hoped his snarky phrases got the guy flustered enough to stay back, and it kind of worked.

They both start prepping to get ready for the game in two separate lockers. Which is kind of odd since usually the locker room is full, but it is understandable since they have different secondary genders. They have gone ahead and blocked out the rink for this morning shoot after the press, but there will probably be a few of the hockey crew in the stands just out of interest and because they are here for PT or trainer or the gym.

When he leaves, he waits in the hall for a second before Hollander steps out. The guy looks great in hockey gear.

“Ready to lose,” he says with the tip of his head and a signature smirk.

“Are you?” the quip flips out of the omega’s lips.

Rozanov tips his head to the side with a smirk. “That sounds like loser.”

“You wish.” Hollander walks past him, and that can’t happen, so Rozanov walks faster, and then they are almost sprinting out by the time they emerge onto the ice which catches the group on there by surprise. Part of Rozanov hopes they got that on camera.

“We want a few pictures first.”

“Warm up,” Rozanov says. “Then you have us.”

Rozanov burns away without a second look, but he’s happy to hear Hollander behind him keeping up. They spin along as the skates call beneath them. It’s like they are racing and not actually warming up, which might become stiffness later. At the same time, this is fun. It is exhilarating and burning him like he’s on fire.

They come back around. Shane’s the nice one to stop. Rozanov would have spent the thirty minutes spinning around just to be on the ice in general but also with Hollander. They are setting up all the cones and pucks, so they do have to come in at some point.

They set up to get some pictures facing off. The dim lights. Then they have another with them just standing with their hockey sticks. Now, they are set up.

“Alright, who is going first?”

Rozanov glances over. “Hollander pick.”

The guy twitches a bit. “I got first in this, but I’ll second with the shot accuracy.”

“Okay,” Rozanov moves off to the side. There is always an advantage to going second because you know exactly what you have to do to win. If he had a guess, this would be Hollander’s weaker of the two elements even if he would be able to compete.

Hollander glides along the ice with the puck in full control with the power and speed as he spun along. The thump into the neat causes him to spin.

“That is good. I be better.” And he lines up.

He makes sure to just relax into control. And he spun around the puck then swayed around the cones then up the line, around the barrier and into the neat. Spun to see the time towards the man who has it. He beat Hollander.

“Two more runs.”

They do with the cameras set up differently but still out of their way. Hollander has really good time improving with each one by almost three seconds but Ilya manages to increase his by almost two seconds meaning he has nearly 1.5 seconds on Hollander, but both of them are fast with 24.68 and 26.21. Neither of them falls or lose the puck, so it’s pretty impress. Hollander just needs to take his eyes off the puck a little bit more and feel it. He’s too tight.

Then they do the shot accuracy.

Rozanov sets up first. He’s got a great time.

But Hollander blows it out by just over a second.

Shit.

They do it twice more, and Hollander keeps that solid second lead and great accuracy.

Ilya can’t help but have the warmth in his chest bubble up as he plays with his lip because that is amazing, and he’s showing the world. He’s not proud of himself. He’d never describe it as that. Instead, it’s more like that he can witness this. Right now, they are at the foot of an amazing carer that will billow up and drive the whole hockey world mad as well as into its greatest moments.

He wants to be excited for everyone, but instead he comes out and pats Hollander’s shoulder then looks at some of his fellow players in the stands. “Anyone wants to try to beat me and him.”

Hollander seems to fumble a bit, but he’ll be fine once they get going. And if not, Rozanov will fight the other plays away so that Hollander felt safe.

“I’ll come out,” Stephen winks before several others start heading to the room.

Suddenly, Hollander is playing with them in the ice in an unofficial practice. No one beats the time of either player, and then they run out of targets, so they move onto other games. They make a five v. five no goalie with Hollander across from him at center ice.

Hollander glances at him as they ignore the camera and video crew who took themselves off the ice but are still here for the photos and video shots of the omega playing with seven alphas and two big beta men on the ice. The man is barely sweating. The freckles pop under his helmet with the color that matches no one else on the team.

“You ready to lose?”

“You wish.” Hollander’s jaw is working as he stares down.

And Hollander beats him leaving Ilya to chase after Hollander. There is a bunch of back and forth, but Shane’s team still manages to eventually get the shot into the goal.

Ilya laughs with a flay of his arms. “I went easy.”

“Right.” Shane doesn’t even take it.

“Hmm, I lie, you very good, but not good enough.”

And then Shane wins again. Shit that omega is fast. Isla gets a goal in the end which gives Shane’s team another point.  

The third time, he squats lower. “You make me look bad. I am maybe MVP this year.”

“It’s going to Scott Hunter.”

“Scott is old man.” Rozanov wins this time, but it’s a fight back and forth over who will get it and eventually the assistant coach acting as a fake ref has to call off the brutality happening on the ice because most of them are not wearing mouth guards and they do not need to get hurt. So he’s facing again.

Shane doesn’t look at him, but the shit talk is getting better. “You’re jealous of Scott Hunter.”

“He is old man.” Their skates are amped to start flying with them down the ice.

“Didn’t you lose to him last year.”

“You follow me. Nice.”

Shane wins this, but eventually Ilya’s people gain control and off of a pass Stephen score.

They are facing off again. Hollander has a little frustrating twitch in his nose that Ilya really wants to kiss away. Shut up, he has to shout at his brain.

“This is good game, Hollander,” Rozanov rolls off.

“Yeah, cause I’m win.”

“Not for long.” He winks.

“Hmm,” is the only response, but Rozanov is able to beat out this time, just barely.

It’s like tug a war going back and forth. By the end Rozanov just knows the game is close, and then he hears a blaring whistle to see his coach stepping onto the ice.

“What the fuck is going on?”

The assistant coaches seem a little flustered and several players who were just watching or even swapping out to Ilya and Hollander’s little game, immediately put their heads down.

“Fun game.” Rozanov skates over. “For press.”

Coach Riley Vizcarra is shouting. “I see the fucking cameras, but why is there someone on the ice that I don’t know. Get out of here.” He shouts to the camera crew.

“Shane Hollander.” Ilya moves between the coach and the cameras.

“Whose boyfriend is it?”

Shane has skated up and then put out his hand. “Montreal Star player.”

The flick from the hand and then up at his face. “The omega team.” It comes out as a sneer.

Hollander’s jaw ticks to the side.

That can’t do. Ilya’s never fought a coach, but he’s game to start, and maybe should have started years ago back in Russia. “He is good player. Almost good as me.”

“Are you arguing with me?”

“My team is winning right now.” Hollander lifts up his chin. There's the fire that Rozanov’s seen on the ice, and looks amazing in the omega’s eyes.

But he can’t let that comment stand, so Ilya says, “I not have enough coffee. You see. Comeback amazing soon.”

The little huff means maybe he took it too far.

“Off the ice. All of you,” the coach roars.

Ugh, this is not going the way that Ilya had planned. He skates to the place for the tunnel and starts fist bumping the players while Shane skates over to the ledge with the camera crew. He says something before skating over.

“Fun, no?”

Shane gives him a fist bump.

“Sorry about coach. He is a dick. Old man, soon retire.”

“Dude, he could trade you.”

Ilya shrugs. “Contract, cannot, not for few years.”

“That must be nice,” Hollander whispers.

They walk towards the locker rooms. The coach has probably stormed in their and is getting redder in the face waiting for Ilya.

“We get lunch, yes?”

“Don’t you have practice?”

He shrugs. “Coach might not let me.”

“My coach would make me do extra skating or something if she was mad.”

“Eh, he might, but I best player, so.”

“I thought I was.” Hollander leans on his stick just a bit.

“Ah, you good, but I better at stick handling, no?”

“You did beat me.”

“Hmmmm, you could beat most on team though.” The Alpha fiddles with his lip and then down his neck to his chain.

A little smirk buds. “You smack talking team?”

“No, they good. I love them.” Ilya nods his head. “But you, you are once time like me.”

“Generational?”

Ah, that must be the word that Ilya wanted. “Yes, I think.”

Hollander snorts. I don’t think there can be two generational players at the same time.”

“Yes, their can.”

“Do you even know what that means?”

“You insult English.”

Shane shrugs before leaning closer, and then the locker door slams open. They both jump back.

“Roz, hurry up,” the shout flutters.

“So needy. Most important player, you know.” He starts walking backwards.

“I thought you were going to get chewed out.”

“They love me.” He shouts before marching into the locker room. What does it matter, Hollander had been smiling because of him. Everything was going to be okay.

“Rozanov, what the fuck were you thinking?” Coach Riley Vizcarra is screeching at him.

“It is for PR,” Rozanov shrugs starting to take off gear because they have been told multiple times to improve their image, so it is the most believable line that he can give.

“Look at me.”

He stands at full attention and stares down the coach who is truly steaming. The other players are looking away for their own safety at this point.

“We allow this shit omega to play against our players.”

And he steps towards the coach. “Hollander.”

“Don’t you interrupt me.”

“Not shit omega.” Rozanov spits out because how dare he talk about Hollander the fucking good hockey player like that. “His name is Hollander. Say it.”

The coach is seething with a redness now purging his whole face.

“Say it.” Rozanov throws his gloves down.

The team is on edge without a single murmur shuffling the locker room.

“You scared cause is better than you ever were at hockey.”

“You’re on suspension.”

Rozanov flings his hand out. “Okay.”

“Pulling this shit with my team.”

Rozanov winks. “Your team? Hmm, that is cute.”

Now the coach is in his face. “Get out of the locker room you fucking asshole.”

“Your team. Does it look like they support you?”

The coach now flicks a look to the side because many of the team are standing and have anger written on their face.

“I will not miss you.” And he grabs his bag.

“You let an omega play against us. You know the lawsuit and issues and…”

Rozanov keeps walking.

“You shit player only thing of your dick…”

He walks out still wearing most of his gear before leaning on the wall trying not to curse at himself. The door shuts before he glances over. Isla walks out with his gear bag. His words are losing him.

“Good job.”

“What?”

“For standing up in there. Took a lot.”

Ilya takes the gear bag.

“Doubt the suspension will hold. He doesn’t need you off the ice on his record.”

Ilya laughs. “Am best player.”

“That was not a fucking compliment.” But she is smiling.

“Good practice.”

“Yeah, and Ilya…it was fun.” She goes back into the locker room.

He wishes he knew more English in that moment. Then he changes in the bathroom before heading down to meet Hollander who is on the phone.

“Talk later mom.” He ends the call. “Are you good?”

“Yes, lunch?”

“Sure,” Hollander says. They go to Rozanov’s car. He throws his gear bag in the back before sitting. “Are you mad that I won?”

Rozanov laughs.

Hollander just shoots up an eyebrow.

“No proud. I play very hard, but you.” He points at the omega. “You are maybe best player.” Then he nods. “Beside me.”

“Beside you, huh.”

“Almost.” Rozanov can’t think of the word.

“Equal.”

“Yes. Yes, we show them. Show them very good.”

Chapter End Notes

Side note, let me know in the comments if you prefer that I make the teams like the book or the tv show. Because I had read the book like three times, I call them Voyagers and Bears, but the show calls them Metros and Raiders. Which do you prefer? Or do you have a preference?

Chapter 11: Shane: Friendships are Tough to Read

Chapter Summary

Shane deals with the reactions to his interview, playing with Alphas, spending time with Rozanov, as well as the Boston coach. And the texts don't stop which he's not mad about....

Chapter Notes

I am spoiling you, but I love that I can. I finished another chapter. Hope you love it!!!
Thanks for continuing to give comments and for all the kudos on this fic. This has blown up so much more than I ever thought it would.

Love you guys and stay safe!!!!!

He spent way too much time with Rozanov. They didn’t do anything but talk and become friends or maybe frenemies. He slept in a hotel by the airport before getting up early and trying not to feel more. Then he saw a clip and story about Boston Bears and Rozanov that is now trending as high as his and Rozanov’s competition showing both sides having a win. He’s not going to look. He’s not going to see that they are saying he’s not enough. He’s going to avoid it like everything.

Yet considering what it may say, it makes his stomach fall as he’s in the back of a car headed to the arena to practice with his team. Then he sees one that Naomi sent to him with a text of, ‘that’s brave.’

Shane scrolls through the article before ending on a clip of Rozanov and other Bear players with their coach. Shit. Literally, Rozanov went off on his coach and the league for being omegaphobic and his coach just shouted at him and his teammates for allowing Hollander to play with them.

The YouTube clip ends with Shane sighing playing with his suit jacket. Maybe he should text Ilya but at the same time, he doesn’t have the energy to do that. Instead, he just gets out with his bag and walks into the arena and the locker room where his team is yet to be since they are probably getting breakfast. He eats a protein bar before he opens the messages to Rozanov but then just stares at it because out of the dozens of things he could say.

Then the door bangs and Naomi strides in with a look that is sharpened by her eyeshadow. Shane tries to not just fold in on himself with the glare that he kind of deserves. He didn’t mean to be a dick to her. She is his friend. Ever since he was a child, he’s been too much for plenty of people. Or he’s been too locked in on the game of hockey that no one wants to hang around him because he’s not fun or exciting or willing to take risks. So what he didn’t drink before he legally could or try smoking or anything like that. That doesn’t make him boring.

The bag thumps. Even Denny who strides in gives a raised eyebrow.

“I saw the video you sent.”

She doesn’t saw a word messing with her headphones.

“Naomi…”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Her hands thump on her hips. “Try again.”

“Sorry I ignored you. I shouldn’t have.”

“You went out with him. You ignored my texts yesterday.”

“I texted you updates.”

“Did read any of them?”

His mouth is dry because maybe he skimmed them. “I saw the article.”

“Which was about him?”

Shane tugs at his ear.

Naomi shoves at her bag. “What did my sister do?”

“I’m sorry.” Because he had kind of ignored her.

“You are the worst friend.”

The tick in his jaw is back, and he’s trying to just take it because it would be better to get it over with because this is just who Naomi is.

“I thought might have died.”

“I didn’t.”

‘wrong response,’ Denny mouths before his bag thuds.

“Oh my…I fucking hate you.” But then she hugged him and jerked a little too tight. “Don’t do that again. Okay. And tell me next time.”

“I was scared.” About how she would react, maybe who Ilya Rozanov really was, and maybe that everything would fall apart because he couldn’t beat him.

“You beat his ass. He beat some of his players with him on their side. You did amazing. Okay?”

“Thanks.” He whispers pulling back to stare at her.

“You did it. You fucking it did. I’m so mad at you, but you fucking showed them. You showed them that we can their equals if not better. Fuck them.”

Shane smiles.

“Stop that. You dork. I’m still mad even if you are fucking brave and great a shitting hockey.”

Shane can’t help but blush because Naomi is complimenting him and even saying that ‘we’ are their equals means she feels hope again that seemed to have been lost in the four years Shane has known her. “Thanks.”

“And none of these men could out do you, and you…” She hugs him again. “You make me want to beat their asses in hockey.”

Overall, the response is great from his team. It feels nice. Part of him enjoys having done something for the team and their future and the future omegas even if he doesn’t get to play on a team, this is a step in the right direction.

Everything burns through him. Nothing about his head is on straight, but he has to lock in. Do what he’s good at hockey.

By the time, they are in the locker room, Denny is shouting. “The Boston coach is under heat.”

They all go around Denny with everyone elbowing just to get a look at the phone.

“Everyone is coming out to the media about the things he’s said against the Alpha women players and the beta players and apparently he’s said some racist things that have resurfaced, and there is a clip from the locker room yesterday.”

He starts playing it, and Rozanov and the coach are shouting about him just like the one that Shane saw.

Shane sinks back grabbing for his phone. There isn’t a text from Rozanov, but the Bears have a game tonight like him. He starts searching the story while Naomi sits beside him with her thigh pressed to his in comfort.

“It’s nothing,” he whispers.

“That man was saying you weren’t equal because he was mad you were beating his players. Fuck him.”

Shane bits at his lip hoping in part that the skin will break.

Isla Molina talking about barriers she has faced not only here but elsewhere. This is the problem with the league there is racism, omegaphobia, as well as hate just when the Alpha isn’t male or the beta man isn’t as strong or perceived as strong as Alpha then they are smeared. She is very even. “Rozanov is brave for going against our coach. I guess we all feel like we need to stand with him. We have all gone to HR over and over again as well as other people higher up, and this is the first time we have seen talk of possible change. That’s the kind of person I would follow anywhere.”

Wow, that says a lot about Rozanov and truly Shane doesn’t want to listen to the video of the locker room because that’s probably the worst. Other articles hating the coach for putting Rozanov on suspension, which has apparently been reversed. Others who have seen the photos seem angry at the Boston coach for not giving Shane a chance or not seeing the proof in the hockey.

Then the insults peak up more frequently. His head starts to rattle. Was Rozanov going light on him? Was the coach, right? Maybe he’d just had a really good day? Been lucky? The phone screen goes black. Breath. His mind rattles. Breath. He can only control himself, and he can play some good hockey. He’s got this.

He forces everything aside and puts the phone down.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Naomi’s head tips before leaning into his space. “You are a shit liar.”

“Really, I am fine.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“We have a game.” And that’s where he needs to focus. A message buzzes. He doesn’t flip it over fast to see because he wants it to be Ilya Rozanov because there is no way that Shane is on the Alpha’s mind in such a moment as this where his job might be at risk. It’s his mom anyway. She wants to call. He slips out of the locker room and finds a tucked corner before answering.

“Shane, baby, are you alright?” his mom immediately fawns.

“Yes, yes, I just got off the ice.”

“Don’t watch the video.”

“Okay.” She doesn’t need to know that he’s already watched it.

“I mean Rozanov stands up for you which is nice after the shit he pulled. He just did an interview with some Boston management, but they kept it brief”

“What did he say?”

“Oh, yes, he seemed furious at the coach. Then his Instagram post seems like a diss.”

“Are they going to fire him?”

“Who knows. I hope so. He deserves it.” She sighs. “I mean I wanted your story to shine, but there need to be those changes made in hockey.”

"The coach."

"Yes, the coach." 

Shane had meant Rozanov, but maybe he'd be safe. “Is…what are they saying?”

“About you, honey?”

“Yeah,” he manages to scrape out as he squats because he also wants to know that. It could be really bad. “Is it okay?”

“Overall, greatly accepting it and lifting you up. A ton of omega but also beta and alpha athletes talking about it and even having competitions like that in other ways. There are always a few jerks, but mostly, it’s looking good. Good for the cause.”

They talk for a few more minutes before Shane feels calm enough to go back into the room. He ignores the looks, but Joe pats him on the back and Denny gives him a shoulder nudge.

They win the game though.

But Boston loses there game.

Shane feels bad for them in that. When he gets to the hotel room since they are on the bus early tomorrow to head to Chicago.

Denny has set up. “You, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I didn’t know that the video would be…I should have thought.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” He waves it off. “Can I shower first?” he asks.

“Go right ahead.”

He steps in before opening his phone and sending a message.

Shane

Saw that stuff about your coach

Really sorry that went down

I appreciate you defending me. It means a lot and hope that you aren’t getting in too much trouble. I know some good lawyers if you need them.

Then he takes his shower before exiting to find his phone empty. Shit, this is all over. Sure, it was nothing from the beginning but at the same time, there is nothing present beside a more like coworker bond. There is nothing more. He’s overthought it and found him cute…no, no, he’s not like that. He’s going to play hockey. That’s it. There is nothing more.

He’s messing with his bag and getting his alarm set for five am before the hum of his phone. Flips it over.

Ilya

He is gone. I happy too

Shane

Good

Sorry about your game

Ilya

Close game

Get them next time

You won, good job

Shane

Thank you

It was a fun game, but I could have played better

Ilya

Yes

Shane

Fuck you

Ilya

My game, always getting better

Shane

You had an off night

Ilya

Did I say I play bad?

I best player

Never changing

That got a full eyeroll.

Shane

Are you going to get in trouble?

Ilya

I am best player

They cannot lose me

Shane

That must be nice

Ilya

I did not go easy on you

Internet lies

Shane

I think that’s what it’s known to do

Ilya

I do not like it

You played hard. I did too.

I would never let you win.

Never

Shane smiles staring at the lines before flipping over as Denny turns on the shower.

Shane

Good because I’d fight you on center ice if I learned you did

Ilya

Kinky

The phone slips in his hand before he jerks it back up.

Shane

What?

How do you know that word?

Ilya

I have ears

Shane

I’ve seen them

Ilya

You studying my face

Shane has gone full on pink.

Shane

You are such an asshole

Ilya

Thought Canadians were nice people

Shane

We defend ourselves when we need to

Ilya

I am nice

Shane

That’s a lie

Ilya

I never lie

Shane

That’s for sure a lie

Ilya

I wait

Shane

I can’t believe that we have two games on the same day

I can’t text roast you while you play

Ilya

You know I best player

Shane

What do you mean by that?

Ilya

You can’t take eyes off of me

Shane

I have to wake up early

Ilya

Night night old man

Shane can only roll his eyes. He finds it tough to fall asleep because a certain Russian accent has become like an Anaconda around his brain.

Farah calls him. They got a possible second ad campaign with Reebok focusing more on clothes, which sounds pretty fun and probably would make some money as well as get him some free clothes, which is never a bad thing. There is also a perfume company, but Shane’s not so sure about that since that will probably want it to look sexy or something.

Supposedly, most things are good. There is more pressure towards the NHL to change and people are talking about it. She doesn’t hit on the bad, but does mention there is always criticism, but she is handling everything. He should focus on hockey.

So he says off the internet and does just that.

They win in Chicago as well on a true roll. He slinks into his apartment late at night before collapsing on the bed trying not to die. He tries to get back into the routine. Since they don’t have a reason to text, they have lessened some. It’s not like either can text about their games and really Boston seems to be a mess and Ilya has been removed from being the front. But rumor has it next year if they team keeps him, he’ll be the new team, Captain.

That’s amazing.

The updates from the lawyers are staggered but the audience numbers have increased to his games, which is startling, especially in the meet and greets.

Rozanov plays before him, and he watches the game on his coach spread out after his own practice. Now that he doesn’t coach the hockey team, he’s got a bit freer time and doesn’t have as many headaches as he did the past few months. Instead, he spread out and enjoying a game on his tv.

Boston manages a victory just barely in the final minutes. He’s messaging with Farah and then reading over a statement with a local station that he has tomorrow afternoon before a string of texts come in.

Ilya

I am amazing

No

The best

I will win the cup

Shane

You are full of yourself.

Shane grabs a cup of water and tumbles back on the couch to flick back open all the messages. His string pops into his mouth so that he can tease the plastic on his tongue.

Ilya

You see my trick

I bet you could learn it

You amaze everyone

I let them call it after you

Or both of us.

 Don’t need you too cocky

Shane wants to laugh because yes, that shot has been a highlight all over the place during and after the game. He could learn it too. He totally could. Ilya thinks so, which causes something to bubble.

Shane

Me? Cocky?

Ilya

Yes that smile

You get everyone

Shane

The Hollander is a nice name

The Shane too

Rolls off the tongue

He messes with his lips staring at the messages. The bubbles appear.

Ilya

You should never name anything

All lame

All bad

Horrible even

Shane wants to kick his feet. He rolls the plastic on his hoodie strings over his tongue.

Shane

They are not lame

Stop lying to yourself

You are dramatic

I have passion

Is that what they call it now?

What rumor you hear?

I saw the clip

You yelling in the penalty box

Not live

I can see both

Than you know

Unfair call

He was cursing

Got in my face

Bad call

Always the refs fault?

You understand

:(

You are mean

You weren’t reading my sarcasm

I was ignoring

Different

Uh-hu

The bubbles don’t pop up. Shane drops the hoodie string waiting. It could be nothing but maybe he pushed. Pushed too much.

They are talking more about the trick shot then that penalty box

The fans won’t hold it against you.

He waits trying to find air for his lungs. They spring up.

Ha

I can do no wrong

I best player

Right

In NHL

So you say

Everyone say

I see the trophies haven’t gone to your head

I show you them next time you come to Boston

You have a room for all your gold

You are not one to mock me

I stalked you

Shane’s jaw dropped because he has posted pictures of his own shelf even though they aren’t from the major leagues, they still mean something, that he is a good hockey player.

As the weeks pass both Montreal Stars and the Boston Bears are doing great as they keep climbing. The text exchanges keep adding up. There is some progress with media but the NHL is stone walling them right now.

Shane can feel like the Montreal Stars could win the Omega league trophy this year.

The Bears could win theirs but there are several teams that could knock them out.

Ilya

Montreal next Tuesday

Playoffs

Meet up????

Shane’s handshakes. Does he want to meet up again? Would this mean they are better friends or it all fall apart like a final apology and it would end the fun little banter or whatever they have developed over the past few months. It’d be stripped away because whenever people met him, they get disappointed. He’s not as witty as he can be with words. He’s too headstrong for an omega, not as pretty. What his he fucking thinking about that? He shouldn’t be because they are just friends, and barely that. It is about omega rights. That’s all they are meeting for.

Ilya

You are probably busy

I could get tickets

Best seats

Then dinner if free?

Yes?

Shane wraps the hoodie string around his finger. Everyone who knows anything about hockey wants to have dinner and free tickets from Ilya Rozanov, and here it is in his texts. They are friends. That much has been proven, and Boston had been fun.

Shane

I’d love to come.

Then too soon almost, on a day that they don’t have a game, he’s in the stands having told no one, not even Naomi that he’s in the stands in great seats to watch the Bears. He has a cap on and a jacket as well neither supporting Montreal or Boston as he watches them take the ice. Rozanov spots him and nods, which causes Shane to slump a little more and then nod.

Apparently, the news is now out that the Boston coach is going to be on sabbatical. The assistant coach LeClaire will be filling in until a new hire is made aka the Riley is not coming back.

Shane stares at the ice as the game progresses. Boston is pretty good and seems to have an upper hand on Montreal. They win. There is harshness about that but at the same time, Shane has a pride that Ilya had managed to win.

They meet at the side of the building with Rozanov smiling as soon as they see each other. Rozanov bumps his shoulder. “Hungry.”

“Yeah.”

“Hmmm, we get steak, yes?”

“Is that where you got reservations?”

“Nice spot,” he says. “And dark, no pictures.”

Shane can’t believe that he feels warmed that Rozanov thought that far ahead because maybe even though he has been avoiding online, it is hard not to hear the whispers or ask Farah or catch a glimpse even if he’s trying to look at other things on social media or a news site.

Rozanov freezes. “Your car?”

Shane realizes that the lights have blinked from him unlocking. “Yeah.”

“Hmm, boring car, for boring man.”

Shane tries not to grumble as the words flood out of him. “I don’t get paid like you.”

“Hmm.”

“You should have spent some of your money for cancer or something.”

“When you get in NHL, I buy you nice car?”

Shane tries to flip through responses while he trembles over his tongue.

“Or you want boring car.”

“Fuck you.”

“Seem like…” his hands flutter. “Boring car, yes.”

Shane can’t believe he’s talking as the words flood out of his mouth, “I want a JEEP.”

“Yes, boring car then.”

His fists clench before he rolls his eyes. Just relax. The Alpha is trying to get a rise out of him. “It’s not boring. They’re cool and practical.”

“So boring.”

“You are such an asshole. You want to take a taxi instead. I’ll meet you there.” Shane hopes that shows him and gets him to shut up.

“No,” that sounds cute.

Shut up, Shane screams at his brain.

“Don’t get mad.” The guy has such a fake sad voice.

Shane glares.

“I get in car.” The Alpha flicks up his hands.

Shane takes a firm deep breath before getting in the car himself. They drive and Shane can’t help but cringe as he hates that valet is parking his car, but then Ilya Rozanov tips the guy and he seems to take it better. But then maybe that’s what Shane should do.

“You think loud, Hollander.”

“Shut up.” Then he glances at the restaurant.

It is dark. Almost too dark to read the menu. Suddenly, Rozanov’s shoe taps his.

“You good?”

“It’s fancy.”

“We can get burgers.”

“It’s fine.” Because Rozanov picked this.

“Then enjoy yes. Tell me about your lawsuit. We made progress?”

“We?” Really with the we again? The nerve of this guy.

“Yes, we.”

Hollander laughs because what else can he do?

Chapter 12: Ilya: Flights for the Stars

Chapter Summary

Ilya may not be winning a cup this season, but he does get to see Shane winning in hockey. They also get to spend more one on one time which kind of blossoms something new.

Chapter Notes

You darlings are all so sweet. You are saying such nice things in the comments. I also love you shouting at Ilya in my story. It makes me so happy that you are invested. Don't worry, I am reading them, and I know some of you will be happy with this chapter. Others will enjoy later ones along with this one. And sorry, I do leave you on a cliffhanger...❤️

I can't wait for the new episode. It is going to be so amazing!!!! Stay say lovelies.

The Bears had been knocked out by Chicago team. That’s humiliating enough, but their goalie had been hurt and ever since they lost their coach, they have been off. Well really since the whole thing with Ilya fighting the coach had thrown things off. Not that the coach didn’t have his faults before, but there has been tension and several players are not going to be returning in the fall including Ryan.

At least Hollander texts him, which is both cute and funny and maybe more addictive than his cigarettes.

Montreal Stars are probably going to be in the final two. They have one more game tonight, which will confirm it, and then they will play against Washington Warriors in a series to see if they will win.

Rozanov checks plane tickets to see if maybe he can make the two home games in Montreal and support Shane in his efforts. Ever since he got hang with the omega in Montreal, things felt different. They texted a lot more. This included GIFs and memes and Instagram posts and even articles about omega rights. Well, Shane probably read the ones that he sent Ilya, but Ilya did read at least the first few paragraphs of the ones he sent to Shane. It felt like a connection. They talked about a recent meeting and a book by an omega hockey player and even called each other like when Rozanov was doing laundry or Shane was cooking one of (what sounded like) crappy boring meal.

It's something that Rozanov has never had in a friendship. He’s fucking less, which should be a sign that really, he has a crush, but he keeps denying it. It’s a friendship. That’s it. It’s all it can be. He cares about Shane Hollander as a friend and colleague nothing more, and he’s telling him this over and over again as he glances at tickets and then towards glancing at hotel rooms and maybe he could just sleep on Hollander’s couch but that’s kind of creepy. But friends do that…right…but he wants it to be a surprise. Maybe not buy a hotel but act like and…ugh…his brain stutters in Russian as he ignores another phone call from his brother. He does not want to add that to his plate.

He flicks on the tv and puts up his phone to watch as the game starts.

Yes, he messes around his apartment a bit. But whenever, Hollander is on the screen, he’s locked in. He even stays for the post interview where he does have to turn on subtitles since Hollander does half of it in fucking French. He’s so perfect. Ugh, it’s like so infuriating.

But they won. So, he immediately buys a ticket to both games and then sends Hollander a message.

Ilya

(Screenshot of tickets)

I will watch you win

I can come to Washington too

Cheer louder than other fans

When his phone buzzes about thirty minutes later, he jumps on it and then shouts at his brother before answering.

He wants money. He always wants fucking money.

But during it Shane texts, and he gets off the phone quickly.

Shane

My parents are going to be at all the games

Ilya

You don’t want me to meet them

Parents love me

Ilya can almost hear the omega roll his eyes from the other side of the phone screen.

Shane

That’s not what I meant

And I know you lie

I barely like you

And my parents, that won’t fly

Ilya

I can change mind

Shane

Shut up

And the media

Are you sure?

Ilya doesn’t give a fuck what the media says, but maybe Shane does and if it looks bad on him, Ilya doesn’t want to ruin it with his friend or his fight to play in the NHL.

Ilya

Montreal grow on me

Shane

But flying out?

You don’t have to

You have apologized

They’ve totally moved on

Ilya

You are not my friend?

Shane

That’s not what I said

Ilya

I support my friends

You do not?

Shane

I support my friends

It’s just like…I didn’t think we were that kind of friends yet

Ilya

You are my friend

I am there

We do not have to hang out

If your parents there

Shane

We can hang out some

Okay

You can’t just fly here and not hang

Ilya

See you like me

Shane

On second thought

Ilya calls him before a second thought. Shane answers, and he must be on speaker in the car because Ilya swears, he can hear the vibration of that old Honda. Maybe he’ll buy Shane a car after he wins the trophy instead. The money is better spent on Shane than his brother.

“What do you want? I said you could come.”

“You won. Good job.”

“Good job,” Shane’s voice is sharp.

“Yes, good job.”

“You sound like an ad.”

“You will win trophy.”

“I hope we do.”

He needs to encourage the omega lift up his spirits. This doubting isn’t any good. “You will.”

“Unlike you.”

“That is mean.” But there is not heat in the Alpha’s throat.

“Isn’t it true.”

“Cup is mine next year,” Ilya responds.

“Awww, but not this year.”

“And I’ll win gold in Russia,” Ilya adds.

“I’m going for the Canadian team.”

“Yes?”

“Well omega team but yeah, they informally asked me and all that, so yeah, it looks like I’ll be in Russia too as long as I don’t get injured.”

“Do not talk like that.”

“Like what?”

Male omegas tended to not be as safe in Russia, but Canada and USA had good protection for their athletes to make sure nothing bad happened to them. “We both win gold.”

“I don’t know. Canada might hand you guys your ass.”

“That is rude. Russians are best.”

“Uh-hu.”

“Is true.”

“You wait and see. Canada will have both medals.”

“I will not see.”

The car must turn off and then Shane’s voice sounds different. “Is that all you called about?”

“You fine? I come?”

“To the games?”

Ilya flops to the side before peering at his phone before pressing it into his cheekbone. “Yes. Cheer you.”

“Cheer on Montreal?”

“Yes, you beat Washington. Whoop their asses.”

“Whoop their asses?”

“Is not American words?”

“Oh, it’s the American words. Kind of sound cute from you.”

“Russians do not sound cute.”

Shane laughs.

Rozanov can’t help but grin as well before stretching out.

“That’s debatable. Don’t you know people love a good accent.”

“You like accent.”

“Some.”

“Russians are sexy.”

The groan on the other side is comedic. “Maybe.”

Rozanov’s heart is beating harder. They are flirting. “I don’t like most Canadian accents.”

“Your loss.”

“Just yours.”

Hollander coughs on the other end.

“Very sweet. Put me to sleep.”

“Are you calling me boring?”

“You are Canadian, no?” Ilya rolls the end of his shirt into his fist.

“You are such an asshole.” A door shuts on the other side.

“You like it.”

“No, it’s your least redeeming quality.”

“But you like it.”

“Oh, my fucking word.”

“Hmm, that is what I thought.”

“We could talk about your losing to Toronto.”

“Is not my fault?”

“Oh, really, I thought you won your team all the games.”

“My team is amazing.”

“I see.”

“They are. They will win cup next year.”

“If you say so,” the omega sings out.

They banter a bit before Shane has to go because he’s getting up early to teach even though they don’t have a training session tomorrow. Rozanov can’t help but play with his lip. He wishes he had someone to call about it, but he can’t, so instead, he lays in bed for a while thinking about a certain omega.

Then when he’s on the flight to Montreal, he tries to not keep playing with the idea of seeing Hollander and having those lips flirt with him in person because that’s what they have been doing right. Sure, he struggles with English, but he’s pretty sure he understands enough to see flirting. Maybe he’s overreading it. It is easy to misread texts and such even though he’s very good and reading his brother’s anger over text but that’s a whole another language and he knows his brother far too well.

He rents a car this time just because he wants to enjoy this as his mini little vacation, and maybe if he is reading into things, he can have the chance to go to a club and forget about Hollander. Yeah, that would probably be the best thing. He can’t go to his hotel until later, so he ends up meandering around Montreal a bit getting something to snack on and walking around just to see more of the town since he typically spends his time in cities just at the rink, a bar, and the hotel. That’s about it.

Then he checks into the hotel and finally heads to the arena.

He moves in early to seats looking around wondering where Shane’s parents are probably not here yet. He’s glad that he bought a Montreal Stars hoodie and ballcap because he feels like he fits in now and is very supportive. When Shane comes out on the ice, he can tell that he’s looking. Part of him wants to full on wave, but then he sees Shane wave a few sections up, and of course, an older couple (which are totally his parents) wave back.

Fuck.

He shouldn’t be here. Of course, Shane Hollander isn’t looking for him. Of course, Shane Hollander, is waving at his parents not him. Why would he wave at some random hockey player that doesn’t know anything about him or omega hockey or all the things going on.

Ilya tries to smile and force himself up.

He should have asked before he got tickets. Hollander may not even hang out with him afterwards. He’s probably staying with his parents. Or having dinner with them. Or doing something fun. Or maybe just hanging since that does seem more like Shane’s momentum. Ilya does take a photo just so that he has it. Then he watches the Montreal Stars win, which is nice.

Then he texts Shane just to see. The picture as well as a caption If you want to hang. But nothing else.

He plays with the phone as the stadium slowly trickles out. As he goes out, he uses the restroom and then sits in his car. The vibration is enough to startle him.

Shane

Give me like thirty minutes

Then there is an address.

Eat here?

Ilya

Okay

And he means it. He heads that way and then chills for a bit before heading in. He only has to wait a few minutes for a table. Then he waits for about ten minutes more while sipping on a beer. Then he sees Hollander.

The man looks around. Ilya rises up and then Shane spots him.

“Sorry,” Shane fumbles sitting down. He’s in a cute suit with a blue shirt and nice black tie.

“Cute.”

Shane’s face twitches.

“Dress up for me.”

“Shut up.”

Ilya grins.

Shane’s phone buzzes. The omega pulls at the suit before glancing around.

“It is dark.”

“Yeah.”

“That is why you pick out.”

Shane messes at the cuff of his jacket.

“Stop it.”

“Huh.” The omega has a thin line of sweat around his forehead and at the collar of his shirt.

“Messing. Is…is cute, but…you are like…” The word is slipping from the Russian. “Nervous.”

“Yeah, yeah, I am.”

“You played good.”

“We did.”

They talk a bit about hockey. Shane’s phone keeps buzzing, but he ignores it. When they are waiting for food and in the lull of a conversation when Shane is less agitated, Ilya decides to bring it up. “Your phone?” because it is trying to dance it’s way to the corner.

“Yeah.”

“Grandma die?”

“Fuck you.” Then Shane blushes glancing but no one is sat right by them and the omega did whisper the line.

“You have girlfriend?” because maybe she was supposed to hang out with Shane, and he dumped her for Ilya.

“No.”

Who else could desire Shane? “Then what?” The Alpha asks.

“Nothing.” Shane turns his phone over.

“You look at phone?”

Shane groans as it buzzes again.

“Is bad?”

“No, no.” Shane turns pink.

“Someone…” his hand flutters because he’s trying to think of the word Ryan used. “Sexting.”

“No. Oh my fucking word, no.” Shane cramps over the table. “It’s embarrassing.”

“But not sexting.”

“Stop saying that word. How do you know that?”

“Is good word.” Ilya rolls his tongue over his teeth hoping that Hollander can see the subtle jaw movement.

Shane rolls his eyes.

“What wrong?”

“My parents think I’m celebrating with my teammates.”

“Okay?” So Hollander lied to his parents about where he is, and his mom like worried?

“And my teammates think I’m lame and hanging with my lovely parents.”

“You lied.”

The sound that comes out of the omega is adorable.

He can’t hide the grin. “You lied for me.”

“Ugh, it’s not like that.”

“But you did.”

Shane groans before resting his head in his hand. “I just couldn’t find out a way to explain it.”

“Is nice.”

“No, no it’s not. Because my mom and dad are texting me. My dad is supporting but my mom is worried I’ll drink to much or do something with some Alpha or…” then he goes pink. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You are not drinking.”

“I don’t drink.”

“Okay.”

The stare at each other.

The phone rattles again. “And my teammates are sending me pictures.”

“You want to be there?”

“I don’t like parties much.”

The server arrives with their food. It spreads before them. Ilya picks up his silverware but Shane doesn’t even touch it. The phone hums again.

“You are fine here?” Ilya can’t help but have a heartbeat in his stomach.

“Yeah, it’s really nice,” Shane grabs for his fork to eat his tuna and brown rice and veggies.

“Good,” and it is nice. They talk a little bit. Shane shares about a hockey biography that he’s reading, which sounds boring, but Ilya wouldn’t want to be torn away from that gorgeous voice in a thousand years.

They still part ways. Shane is doing things with his family tomorrow, but they plan to meet for maybe some coffee in the afternoon since his parents want to shop a bit, and he can get away.

That’s nice. They just chill.

Then he’s got practice leaving Ilya to mess around the city a bit. He even does some of his own shopping and sleeps in and answers emails and just has a boring time.

Watching the game, he’s sure that Shane spots him. He doesn’t wave, but that look is heaven.

After the knock out win, Shane sends a message to Ilya with an address.

He pulls up to an apartment building. When he texts, he’s arrived, there are directions to the side door. Shane’s standing there. They go up the stairs and end up at a small apartment. Ilya glances around at the relatively clean place, especially compared to his.

“We order food?”

“I’m making something.”

A rice cooker is on the countertop. “Okay.”

Ilya finds his way to the stool. His legs sway as he watches the omega move around.

“You need…help.”

“No, no. It’s all good.”

The man gets out some stripes of fish, so the guy must really enjoy seafood because Ilya swears that the majority of meals they have shared, he’s eaten fish. They enjoy the meal together while watching a movie that Shane puts on after asking.

When Shane gets up though, Ilya pauses and follows. He sits on the stool because Shane is cleaning up and with the perfection around the apartment, he doesn’t want to mess anything up.

“You are excited?” He asks.

“About?”

“The game. You win. Play more.”

“I wish our last game was on home ice.”

With this third win, there is a high chance that their last game will be in Washington if they manage a victory.

Rozanov nods his head.

“You didn’t have to come out.”

“Cheer you on. Second best hockey player.”

“Because Joe better.”

“Who is Joe?”

Shane rolls his eyes. “Maybe you should care more about the Montreal rooster if you are going to wear their gear.”

Ilya looks offended. “I cheer best team in omega league.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“You will win.”

“I didn’t say we weren’t. I think I said we would.” Shane leans on his counter before playing with the leftover salmon.

“Best team.”

“So, who is the best player?”

Ilya fake gasps because he can see a little bit of blush peaking on Hollander’s cheeks behind the freckles.

“You?”

“Yes. I best player.”

Shane tips his head. His short hair barely moves. The guy would probably look gorgeous with slightly longer hair. “Right.” The dark eyes are dancing on the face. The head flops. His neck stretches. “What are you smiling at?”

Ilya winks.

Shane flusters and looks away.

“You are very pretty.”

“Pretty?”

“Yes, pretty.”

“Okay.” Shane starts messing and putting up the leftovers.

Ilya’s lip twitches. “Is meant nice?”

“Yeah, I’m sure you meant it to be nice.”

“Are we…” he shuffles his hand. “Flirting?”

Shane seems to choke on his oxygen for a second while shoving the food into the fridge. The door rings in the aching shut.

Ilya sits up so that he gives the presence of moving away from Hollander. “No? We are not?”

“Are we?”

Ilya shrugs. “You are good looking man.”

The omega fumbles with his own hands before glancing towards the front door. “I don’t date.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve only had a girlfriend.” So maybe Hollander is now eyeing him.

“You do not like me?”

He’s looking away. Ilya wants to get up and touch the man’s chin so that he’s facing him.

“You like me,” he whispers thickly instead.

“We can’t.”

“Why?” The stool scrapes against the ground.

Shane plays with his hands before staring the dishes. Ilya leans on the counter by Shane. “You shouldn’t even be over. Someone could have seen you.”

“You are scared.”

“Yes.” Shane flinches and then flicks off the faucet before staring over at Ilya. “This is stupid.”

“You are not…” his head tips.

“What?”

“Want?”

“I don’t know.” Shane’s hands grip on the edge of the counter. “Have you ever?”

“With omega?”

“No, a man, or…I don’t know.”

“Men, a few, coach’s son in Russia was beta, and hooked up…” his hand wavers.

“Hook ups?”

“I have…what you say…friends with care?”

The tense laugh is nice. “Benefits.”

“Ah, benefits, yes, I have those at times. So yes, I am rich, good looking hockey player.”

“Are you bragging?” That eyebrow dances a bit.

Ilya hums as he starts boxing Shane in now that the omega is facing him. “Yes, good looking,” he winks. “Do you not think so?” And then he scans his eyes over Shane.

“You’re not bad.”

Ilya’s hands find his hips.

“Why?”

“What?” He stares at the brown eyes that won’t look at him.

Shane squirms a bit, but not really against Ilya’s hands but rather as if he’s deciding to stay or come closer. “With the coach’s son or any of them…”

His lips hum. “There is word for it, I wanted…I wanted to know.”

“Curious.”

“Yes, curious. And you make me curious.” His lips are almost going to graze over Shane’s cheek.

“Yeah.”

Ilya’s hands run up. “Do I make you curious?”

And Shane kisses him.

Chapter 13: Shane - Winning in Some Ways

Chapter Summary

So maybe Shane hooks up with Rozanov and maybe there is a big win in the hockey rights world.

Chapter Notes

Your love is so amazing. Thank you! I appreciate you reading this and enjoying it while I'm writing it. It makes it so much more fun to write. I am trying to keep this fic under or around 100,000 words just because I want to finish my other really long fic which has turned into what will eventually be a 200,000 word beast. This means if it is feeling a bit fast paced that is why.

Next, there is a sex scene. I apologize that I'm still learning to write sex scenes. I wrote my first one a year and a few months ago, which wow, I can't believe I started writing fics almost a year and a half ago now that I think of it. Anyway, I am still learning how to write them. This may be why at least this one is close to the show. Further ones that I'm planning out are not, but I needed confidence, so I was inspired by my rewatches on this scene. The first portion of this fic has the sex scene, so if you want to skip it, you can go to the part where they fly to Washington.

Thank you for reading lovelies!!!!

Rozanov’s hands have boxed Shane in. They are rubbing at the omega with a hum glancing up before tapping their legs together as Rozanov’s thighs frames Shane’s adding warmth and pressure around him. Rozanov runs his hand up Shane’s side. He knows that he’s shaking in the alpha’s hand, and he needs it to stop shaking.  

“You are scared?” The Russian accent is both music and dread in the same tone.

“No.” And it even sounds like a lie because his lips have a shake to them and his eyes can’t stay on the Alpha.

“You seem nervous.” A finger runs over Shane’s lips.

“I’m fine.” Then he glances to the Alpha whose blue eyes are tracing every feature of Shane’s face for permission or a clue or something.

“There is something wrong. Tell me.” The Alpha leans close enough that their lips are almost touching again.

“This is such a bad idea.” Shane whispers panting against the warm lips of Ilya.

“What is?” The alpha gasps before giving Shane another kiss.  

Shane groans moving closer to catch Ilya’s lips again.

“You are so pretty,” Ilya whispers.

“What?”

Rozanov flicks a look away from the omega’s lips to his eyes. “You are pretty.” Ilya kisses his cheek before kissing his lips again.

Shane chases it. He lusts to get another whiff of the cologne and the Russian’s soft lift. A hand rubs up his torso. Warm against his flesh which shivers in the cool air. It makes the up to his nipple and flicks gently while the kiss flutters on his jaw. “Oh,” is all that can pant from his lips.

His hand fists into Rozanov’s shirt, and the alpha is pulling up the omega’s top before tossing it on the ground. He’ll have to…the kisses pepper to his shoulder. Then with Shane’s hands helping, the alpha’s shirt is tossed to the side. The button fumbles under Shane’s shivering hands. The pants are shuffled down, and, in a gasp, he’s on his knees with the cock now flicked out of the boxers. His lips hasten to kiss at the top.

He's never done this.

He only had sex a few times with his girlfriend, Jessica, in high school, but this, this is something else. Rozanov’s hand tangles into his hair. His lips flutter over the cock before taking the upper portion against his tongue. He’s sucking. Trying to play. It tastes…nice. Slobber dribbles on his lip. The hand is warm and pressing him gentle to rock in motion with his tongue.

Then he’s pulled back.

“Stop, stop, stop,” the Alpha murmurs.

Oh no. “Was it okay?” Shane pants free.

“Yes, was…too much.” The Alpha pants holding onto the omega’s face.

The smile flutters on the omega’s lips.

They end up swaying into the bedroom with whispered banter. They lay out kissing at each other on top of the sheets. They play with each other’s skin. Rozanov’s moles flutter all around. His hair flexes back while playing with Shane’s.

He guides Shane down to his cock again. He’s sucking. Taking it in. Exploring it with his mouth, against his check, feeling a touch for a moment on his throat before it’s pulled back. The Alpha pulls him off and tugs him up so that they can kiss with Shane’s eyes on the Alpha’s thick cock while Rozanov finishes the job and cums on his stomach.

Then they pant. Shane’s little cocklet is hard, and he’s dripping between his legs.

“That was fun.” Rozanov sits up.

“What the fuck?” Shane whispers. All alphas were jerks. He was in idiot. His parent told him don’t sleep with Alphas, but here he was…

Then Rozanov rolls on him. The still damp cock presses between them. “I am not asshole.”

“You are.”

But Rozanov’s fingers are playing with his cocklet. The kisses flutter down his belly. Then he kisses at his thighs. Shane does everything not to rise off the bed in heaven. The fingers play into his folds. The suck causes a little squeak to rise up before his cocklet is swallowed into Rozanov’s warm mouth. The saliva warms while the sucking enough beside the fingers slipping at the edge of his hole.

It's too much.

It’s heaven on Earth.

And he’s coming.

“Shit, shit, shit…Rozanov, get off, shit…” And it’s too late his little cockle and hole are crying out over the Alpha’s teeth and fingers. The pants flutter as Rozanov kisses up his belly and then flops to the side in a pant.

Shane’s brain is trying to catch up.

“You are good?”

“Yeah, yeah, shit,” Shane can’t seem to get more from his brain.

The Alpha goes to the bathroom and comes out with some tissues before wiping them both up. It’s warm and delicate as he gets the cum away that is spilling. He doesn’t scrub at Shane’s privates but merely dabs at his thighs, and at the Alpha cum on his stomach that Rozanov’s cock dripped there.

It’s sweet.

Shane tries not to think about it the next day. They didn’t have morning practice but do have afternoon practice. They fly out tonight for Washington since tomorrow is an afternoon game.

The Alpha leaves with Shane standing in a hoodie and sweats playing with his shirt.

“We see each other, soon?”

“Yeah,” Shane says, but when is another question.

Rozanov did text him this morning about boarding his plane. The alpha didn’t stay over. Maybe Shane should have asked, but he can’t. He can’t do that. His head is not in the game, and Naomi throws him looks as well as other players.

He needs to get out of this funk. Stop thinking of the Alpha, but that is hard when he comes back to the locker room and has messages from the Alpha that he can’t look away from.

They fly to Washington the next morning, and he tries to read his book. Instead, the lines blur. They don’t remain in their space.

“Why are you in mood?” Naomi nudges him.

“I’m not.” He drops the hoodie string he was biting.

“Yes, you are.”

Shane glares at her.

“Are you nervous? We won last year against Vegas? We’ll win this year.”

“I know.”

“Then stop being antsy.”

“I’m not.” He growls.

“Shut up, you are so antsy. You are like textbook definition antsy baby.”

“Like you aren’t.”

“I’m cool.”

The next morning as he’s getting ready to leave the hotel, he gets a message again.

Ilya

Good luck

Shane

Thanks

He goes on the bus with the team, but he stays back to talk with the coach about doing media. His phone buzzes, but it’s his mom.

Mom

Check the news

Shane does track what is going on in the sports word so while he is walking into the locker room before the game looking at his phone through the headlines, he freezes. It can’t be. It can’t be. He clicks on the article. It is.

Shane stares at the headline on his feed. The Vancouver Cougars just signed a female omega, Rory Gustine. He falls down holding his phone.

“Shane?”

His eyes stare up. “It happened.”

“What? What?”

The locker room crowds around him, and the cheer roars. They are all talking over each other in shouts.

“She did it. That sucker.”

“Why didn’t she text us!”

“We are partying.”

“Oh my god, this can’t be real.”

“I’m dreaming.”

“We could all get signed.”

“Is that a winning team? They are doing this for PR.”

“Does it matter.”

“I don’t care.”

The voices keep piling on each other before a hand falls and causes Shane to jump a little. “You good?” Naomi mouths.

“Uh, yeah,” Shane bobs his head.

“This is good news.”

The bob of his head does not over take the ringing in his ears.

“It’s fucking great news,” Naomi bangs into him.

“Yeah,” but for some reasons there is a pit in his stomach.  “We win this. We win this for her, for us.”

And they go out and fucking win.

The pictures. The laughing. The joy on the ice that they have a fourth win, the final win under their belt. They slam into each other. The locker room has champagne. There are so many congratulation texts on Shane’s phone, but he replies to Ilya’s first. He doesn’t know why.

Later when he is no longer sticky and has come back from a bar way to late. He’s lying on his side while Denny is showering and sees more messages from Ilya.

Ilya

I saw the news to

Maybe he is a little drunk and shouldn’t be texting, but he is anyway.

Shane

What?

Ilya

Come on.

All news covering

Big deal

For omegas that is

Ugh, he had drunken way too much. Sure, they brought it up so many times tonight, but yeah, that was a big deal. The first omega to be signed, and it gave hope. It meant the league was opening up. He can put his name in to try and get a position. It is a big fucking deal. So why is he empty, after a win, after celebrating, after knowing his dream might be happening in a few weeks, months, if not a year. He could be the next Rory. He can sound happy. He really can.

Shane

We are all proud of Rory

Ilya

You wish it was you?

How can the alpha see that? Was he that obvious in interviews? Fuck, he is proud. Maybe he did have a dream of being the first, but he’s so proud that she did. He’s met her before; he’s played her every season that he has played because Rory has been playing for six years now. He can’t let Rozanov think that because Shane isn’t an asshole.

Shane

I’m not saying that

Ilya

But you think it

He can turn this and seem like flirting or that Ilya is projecting. Maybe Ilya is just joking or maybe he’s trying to get first news dibs to sell. Make the whole thing a jealous moment. 

Shane

You’re competitive

Maybe that came off too sassy. Ugh, why can’t Shane do anything right?

Ilya

Being first big deal

Shane covers his mouth with his t-shirt.

Shane

Yeah

I’m proud of her

I love that she did this

I mean we’ve met several times and talked about this

You know having it happen

She found a team

That’s great

Ilya

You get signed next

I take you to dinner

Have big fun

That is the dream, truly.

Shane

That’s nice of you

But who knows if they will sign anyone else

Ilya

Yes, right, I tell Bears

You good player

Playing with Rozanov might be a problem now that they have fucked. Maybe that was just a one-time thing. A frown perks on his face. Fuck, what is he thinking. Of course it was. It has to be a one-time thing.

Shane

She only got signed because it was a Canadian team

I mean technically it’s been happening in some places in Europe

A while ago

The US is late on everything like this

Ilya

And Canada?

Shane

I mean I like Canada, and I would enjoy being signed to a home team.

Is it okay that he’s being to brutally honest?

Ilya

But things are changing

He types in all honesty…

Shane

I hope

Ilya

You not think so?

Shane

She has to make it and prove herself

Even though she shouldn’t have to.

And more than just one has to get signed

And the press will be nightmarish, who knows if anyone will be brave enough to do it again for the coming season.

Ilya

I send her a PM

Tell good job

Shane

You are the devil

And that comes off as creepy

And maybe he doesn’t want Rozanov and Rory messaging each other. Is that awful? No, he’s sucked Rozanov’s cock, but was it anything else? Probably not. The guy has a reputation, and it’s not like Shane is anything interesting and something to stay for.

I’ve texted her and doubt she wants to hear from an asshole like you.

She’s thrilled but it’s going to be a tough road ahead

Ilya

For you too

You keep fighting

I fight for you

Shane

You are annoying

Ilya

I am the best

Shane

I thought I was

Ilya

You did not win everything

I won a lot

Shane

One of us won this year

Ilya

You are boring even in insult

Next year, Boston have cup

Shane

Yeah, right keep telling yourself that

Now that Vancouver has Rori, they’ll get it

Ilya

Canadians are not nice

Shane

Fuck you

The water for Denny’s shower turns off.

Ilya

Do you need me to send you flowers?

That make you better

Shane

What makes you think I want flowers?

That is stereotypical

Ilya

Stereotypical?

Shane

Like what people expect or have done for years

Even if it isn’t right

That’s actually a terrible definition

Ilya

I can send you a hockey stick instead

New one

Shiny

Not be stereotypical

Shane

Why do I text you?

Ilya

You are flattered by my presence

I do want to help

I mean it

But you are too easy to make mad

Shane

I am not mad

Ilya

I can hear it from you typing

Shane

You are so full of shit

Ilya

Who knew

Under sweet Canadian you are mean

Shane

🙄

Denny steps out, so he starts texting his parents and Naomi instead before plugging in his phone and going to sleep. 

Chapter 14: Ilya - Inviting your "friend"

Chapter Summary

Ilya reacts to the news of an omega getting signed as well as inviting Shane to Boston because he wants to see the omega so badly.

Chapter Notes

WARNING: A sex scene is at Rozanov's house in the middle but doesn't last too long.

Rozanov sucked off Shane Hollander, and Shane Hollander sucked him off, and both were amazing. And then they are still flirting and texting. And maybe they’ll hang out again. There is nothing beyond amazing in this moment. It is great.

Then he’s watching the screen for pregame stuff and Rory Gustine an omega woman has been signed to the Vancouver Cougars. Svetlana calls him. He flicks is up and listens to her chatter in Russian.

“Did you fucking see?”

“What?”

“What are you watching?”

Fuck the volume is on. The button pounds under his finger to mute.

“Huh, will you lie to me?”

Ilya mutters under his breath.

“What are you saying? I cannot hear you.” Her voice is sharp and very direct as always with him.

“An omega has been signed to the league.”

“It’s a major point of history. If I had been in the league, that could be me. I thought it would be two more years, but I should have thought that some team that has been struggling would pick up on it as some trendy and way to get fans. It is amazing for her, but shitty that they are doing it more as prop then for actual game. She is fucking good player. Do you think Boston will follow?”

Which it could because Svetlana had played some as a child and knew more about hockey then most people and loved the game, but in Russia it was not as encouraged for women, especially omega women to play. Alpha women, yes, they had their own league, but omega women that was almost as bad as an omega male playing hockey.

“Hmm, are you there?”

“Yes, but I don’t know. Boston is at the top, so if they see it as risk…”

“It is fucking going to change the game. Boston needs to realize that some of their players need to be replaced.”

“It’s a good change,” because Ilya does support this.

“Make you big slow alphas move faster that’s it.”

“We move fast.”

“No, you fucking don’t. You are like toads trying to find your legs.”

Ilya rolls his eyes.

“What does your friend think of it?”

“Friend?” Ilya plays with the back of his neck.

“Friend. Are have you fucking forgotten? Don’t play dumb.”

“I am not…”

“You are so acting dumb. What has happened?” Her voice is hammering through the words. “Shane Hollander. I am talking about Shane Hollander. The omega player, no, you are not friends?”

“I am not the first person that he would text.”

“You check on him?”

“I’ll text him, but he has a game.”

“Which you have on?”

What can he say to that?

“I heard the fucking tv.”

He sits up playing with his curls. “Yes, I want to watch my friend.”

“I saw the photos.”

“Of?”

“Why are you in this mood? You at game. You watch him play in Montreal. He won both.”

“Yes, he played fucking great.”

“He did. He is going to be signed next.”

Ilya adjusts.

“He will be better than Rory, but she will give Hollander a run for his money.”

“You think he will.”

“Yes, he is going to be the best player in the omega league. Going to get MVP there.”

“Aren’t there other fucking great players.”

“No one who gets goals like Hollander. He is going to be Captain next year if anyone is not stupid enough to sign him on.”

“I believe you.”

“You should let me meet him. He has very cute eyes.”

Ilya is glad that she isn’t in the room with him because his face is bleeding every thought in his brain.

Hollander and Montreal Stars do win their game, which is amazing to see. Then they text, which feels domestic and sweet in a way that he’s bantering and they are joking while Ilya is tucked in bed with his phone pressed to his pillow.

The next morning, he sends a message while he’s still smug enough.

Ilya

I will buy you ticket to Boston?

We can have fun.

Celebrate

While he is getting changed to go for a run, he gets the message back.

Shane

In Boston?

Ilya

Awards this weekend, but I have few free days

Before I go to Russia

Shane

I’ll think about it

That’s all Ilya can ask for.

Ilya

Or we could say indoors

Do fun inside

Very fun

Shane

Maybe for like two days?

Ilya

Send days

I buy ticket now

Shane

I’m still thinking about it

Ilya

Okay

Because Ilya doesn’t want to be pressuring, he goes for his run with his headphones on leaving it at that.

Shane does message accepting the trip, but he’s only going to be here two days because of the schedule, and he does have work. Ilya makes a stupid sign for when he goes the airport.

Looking for Second Best Hockey Player

When he spots Shane Hollander on the escalator, he can see the rolling of eyes, which only makes the grin stretch more.

“I’m glad you still think Joe is the best,” Shane says holding onto the strap of his backpack.

“Hmm, I heard you might win MVP.”

“We don’t get a ceremony like you.”

“Hmm, still good, yes.”

“It’s like a video and a handful get invited.”

“You not invited?”

They head out because Shane has his backpack and carry on. “I don’t…I don’t like parties, and I’m busy.”

“I pay for ticket.”

“What?”

“I can buy ticket and hotel and anything.”

“Are you offering me money?”

“Yes,” because if that’s an issue since he does work several jobs, then Ilya can. This man deserves roses and trophies, and he should be there to get them.

“I have money.”

“I don’t mind helping.”

“Then pay lawyers,” snaps from the omega.

Ilya cocks his head. “I can do that.”

“No. No, fuck no, I didn’t mean literally.”

“Literally?” But Ilya knows the word comes out wrong.

“Like actually do. I don’t expect you to pay for my lawyers. I’m doing it. It’s fine.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah.” Now Hollander has a squeezed look on his face and a bit of a tip of his head so maybe Ilya fucked up.

“But if you need money.”

“I didn’t need you to buy me a ticket.”

“I want you.”

“You are not like my…” then Hollander goes bright red.

Ilya has stopped in front of his red sports car, Lamborghini Aventador. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You were saying something. Was it sexy?”

Hollander rolls his eyes. “This cannot be your car.”

“You are surprised.”

“You have a second sports car.”

“I have four.”

Four, Hollander clearly mouths.

“Parking is expensive…” Ilya casually unlocks it.

“Not the cars.”

“Hmm, they are pricy too, but very nice.”

Hollander shakes his head, maybe he is thinking about his JEEP. Maybe, Ilya should sell one of his cars and buy him a JEEP or make his next splurge on Hollander instead of spending it on a lawyer.

“Bag.” He gestures to take the bag from the omega.

Hollander hands over his bag to be put away. He places his backpack at his feet. There may be a little revving of the engines involved which makes the omega rolls his eyes. Ilya makes a quick pitstop to pick up food he ordered before heading towards the apartment for their late lunch.

“I appreciate you flying me out though.”

“I want to see you.”

There is a bit of pink the omegas check. “I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful, but I could have bought the ticket.”

“I want to treat you.”

Shane adjusts in the seat.

“And you winner. Celebrate.”

“I don’t really do clubs.”

“We celebrate other ways.” Ilya softly places his hand on Shane’s thigh.

There is a soft squeak from the omega.

“Good?”

“Yeah.” Shane plays with his shirt.

Ilya smirks. They take the ride to the penthouse. He unlocks the door and gestures for the omega to go first. Shane being in his penthouse is kind of amazing. The scent since he doesn’t have a patch on meanders after him, and a part of Ilya prays that the scent will remain until the end of time.

Not that he’ll tell Shane that.

Shane stares nervously after they both have toed off their shoes. The little twitch appears.

“You want tour or…”

Then Hollander is on him kissing. Their lips collide. A tongue slips in. It’s heaven for sure. The warmth of the omega’s hips. Then he goes up the spine before twisting into the dark hair while the omega’s hands clench on the Alpha’s shirt and ribs.

Their lips fall into each other before the Alpha starts patterning down the omega’s neck. The groan is like a shooting star. They are walking back towards his bedroom. They bump into a few things.

Shane cringes. “Sorry.”

“Is fine.” They end with their clothes falling to the floor before Ilya pushes Shane to the bed. He unbuttons the pants, and the omega worms out of them before getting peppered with more kisses and working down the boxers.

“Rozanov,” Shane mutters.

The Alpha sucks at his thighs and hums as Hollander sings. “Yes.”

“I don’t…I…uh.”

Ilya pulls back and stares up the beautiful body.

“Don’t stop.” The mewl is enough for Ilya to keep working.

He places his fingers on the edge and starts rubbing the hole that has become damp ready and opening for him. The cocklet stands up and is begging to be touched.

“Not fair.”

Ilya glances up. “Hmm.”

“I want to see you,” the omega says it like it’s the most needed thing.

Rozanov rises up and jerks down his pants before tossing them to the ground. “Better.”

“Much better.” The hands wander to Ilya’s thighs before touching his cock, which jumps to attention.

Ilya leans down to keep working his fingers in a way that Hollander can keep rubbing his cock. Ilya spits on his hand before taking their cocks together causing them both to groan. Sweat mingles. Heart rates rise. Their cocks rub. It speeds up. Panting. Flesh sings. And it truly is bliss as they bath each other’s bellies in cum.

Ilya doesn’t want to ruin it as he rolls to the side. He grabs a tissue and wipes them down before kissing Shane again.

“Okay.”

Shane grins at him.

Then he spoons Shane. A little while when Shane wakes up from the nap, Ilya leans on his arm. “I am hungry.”

“For what?”

Ilya runs a hand up Shane’s side which makes him squirm. “Food. You want tuna melt?”

“You want to make me a tuna melt?”

“I make one for myself. I make for you.”

They get up, and this time, Shane sits on the barstool watching Ilya cook.

It’s not domestic, but it isn’t just a hook up. They go and get coffee one morning. They go to the gym together. They order in food. They watch a movie and some sports. Then talk. They do fuck a lot. But it’s casual, and they don’t talk all that much.

When driving to the airport to drop him off as Ilya doesn’t fly out until the next morning, he asks what wants.

“Come to Vegas with me.”

“What?” Shane glances at his phone where he double checking that his flight is on time.

“Vegas, go to Vegas with me. We have fun.”

“The awards?”

“Yes. I might win one.”

“No.”

Ilya doesn’t say anything because his heart drops. He should have known. It’s stupid to ask.  They aren’t like that.

“I will not go on your arm.” Shane spits.

Ilya blinks. What? They don’t have to go as a…couple…he just wants Shane there. “I’m inviting you. The world knows we are friends.”

“You don’t get it.” Shane’s fists tighten.

Ilya throws his hands out. The craving for a smoke burns up. “I’m inviting you because you are important to me.”

“As your omega.”

“You are my love. I want to show the world…”

“I will never go unless they give me my own invite.” Shane throws down his book.

“Okay.”

Shane crosses his arms and slowly shuffles. “I’m tried.”

Ilya messes at his nose. “Are you okay to fly?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

Ilya grabs Shane’s jacket from the back seat and holds it out while peering at the passenger seat. “I mean no insult.” He says because he really did not. He wanted to compliment Hollander and get him involved in the world they are fighting for.

“They will think I’m trying to fuck my way into the position. I will go because I’m getting fucking award, or I won’t go at all.”

“Okay.”

“This is such a stupid idea.”

“We can just be friends.”

Shane groans.”

“But I like to fuck you. Okay?”

“We shouldn’t…”

“No one needs to know we fuck. We fuck so what?”

“They will judge. They think any omega put in the league is just there to fuck their teammates.”

“There are alphas who fuck other alphas in the league.”

“Are they out?”

Rozanov shakes his head. “Not in league no, but I know, there are some.”

“You?”

“Yes, I have fucked an Alpha before. It was nice.”

Hollander stares at the neighboring car.

“I care about fight. I help you. No one needs to know we fuck. Okay? You will get next after Rory, and you do better than her.”

“This isn’t a competition.”

“I like you. I want to see you win.”

Hollander adjusts his legs. “No one better finds out. This is so…” Hollander wipes his faces. “Fuck.”

“We can be…just friends…okay?”

“Yeah.” Hollander crosses his arms before getting out. Ilya hands him his bag trying not to look too intently at the omegas face.  

“Do you want me…” Ilya gestures towards the walk to the airport.

“I’m fine.”

They stare at each other.

“Maybe we see each other when I come back from Russia.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Their eyes meet and then flick away. “Are you mad?”

“No.”

“Okay, we friends, yes?” That word pains Ilya now that he thinks of what they did in just the short time together in Boston.

“Yeah, just friends though.”

“Okay.”

Shane adjusts his backpack.

“Bye.”

“Enjoy the awards.”

Ilya nods his head and then leaves trying not to think about Shane while he’s in a tux or even in his hoodie walking into the airport away from his car, while he staring at all the Alphas whose pheromones wrap around each other, or even think about him in Russia where he tries to take care of his father. Instead, he focuses on going to the awards and leaves Shane to fly away.

Later that evening he sends a text.

Ilya

I am sorry for earlier.

Hope you made home safely

Shane

Home safe

I’m sorry too.

You were being nice, and I just didn’t choose my words wisely

Ilya

I did not think when asking

Shane

I hope I didn’t offend you

Ilya

No, we are good

Shane

Good.

Have fun though

Ilya

It will be boring

But you will be there next year

On your own

MVP and all

Chapter End Notes

Thank you so much for continuing to read, comment, and give kudos. It's been so sweet and amazing. I hope you keep loving as you read this. I did take one of your comment suggestion about Ilya offering to pay for a lawyer. I loved the idea. I believe it was @alyseofwonderland (Esyla) who said it first, so roses and sunshine for them. I love the next chapter btw, and I can't wait to post. Crossing my fingers that I can get it edited for tomorrow.

Keep safe lovelies!!!!!

Chapter 15: Shane - When you can't stop winning

Chapter Summary

Shane has some major things happen in his life, and the people around him are overall supportive.

Chapter Notes

Farah calls him screaming. “Where are you?” He glances around at the bare locker room. He just finished up teaching the littles and did a bit of skating practice and stick drills before getting off for the next group.

“What? Why?”

Farah seems out of breath. “Are you sitting down?”

“Yeah.” His shoes are in front of him.

“You are going to scream.”

“Did I get a sponsorship?” Because that would be pretty great.

“Better.”

His heart flutters. It can’t be.

“The Montreal Voyagers want a meeting and want to discuss your possible future with the team.” She screaming.

He almost drops the phone. His whole body shakes before his voice squeaks. “Farah.” That’s all his brain can find because this can’t be happening. This must be a lie, a dream, or something else.

“It’s real. They want to meet with us sometime this week. Tomorrow work?” She almost sounds like she’s in a fog, but that has to be in Shane’s head.

“Yes.” He can call in sick or whatever, he needs to. He’s meeting with an actually NHL team.

“They seem interested in being the face of change and since you are local and have shown so much potential with your team, they are meeting with you.”

“Anyone else,” his voice squeaks.

“Sounds like a few others as they make the choice on new rooster. But I don’t know if any of them are omegas. They did have that career ending injury with their second-round pick from like a few years ago.”

“Yeah,” he plays with his lip. “Do you think they’ll do it? Sign me on?”

There is a bit of a pause. “I’m hopeful. But if not, this looks good. If Montreal is looking then other teams are too, okay. It’s a step in the right direction. But let’s just prepare for the interview.”

When he gets in his car, he doesn’t start it. He just sits there staring ahead, wondering about how he feels. The drive is numbing. His chest is tight before leaning back and staring at his apartment. He goes up, changes, and then flops on the couch. He plays with his phone, and then he fingers on Ilya’s name before he can retract it, it’s calling.

Shit. He hangs up and starts pacing.

Not thirty seconds later Ilya’s name pops up. He immediately hangs up. Then it buzzes again. The Alpha’s calling him back again. Double shit.

He flicks it to answer.

“Hollander.” The accent practically purrs over the phone. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

“You called me,” snaps out while Shane flops back on the couch.

“No, you call first.”

“It was an accident.” But Shane even cringes at his voice.

“Hmmm, don’t think so.”

Shane’s hand drags over his face before he rolls to the side staring at the far wall.

“You, okay?”

“Yeah.” His voice shakes.

“Do not sound okay.” The sound of the okay with the accent is so adorable and concerning. “Hollander?”

He wipes his face before leaning back. “Just overthinking something.”

“And call me?”

“Yeah, dumb right.” The laugh is so fake.

“No.” It’s short but enough.

The word hangs between them.

“Talk.”

“You don’t want to hear…”

“I do.”

Shane plays with his lip. “You can’t tell anyone?”

The Russian sighs.

“Montreal, the NHL team, the Voyagers, they want to meet with me tomorrow about a possible contract.”

“Hollander!” The Alpha roars. “That is great fucking news. You have done it. You have fucking done it.”

Shane starts laughing while hanging his head to the side. “What time is it?” He hadn’t even thought of it.

“I go to bed very late.”

“I didn’t wake you up.”

“No. No, back to good news.”

“It’s not done. It’s just an interview and talk.”

“Talk good?”

“Yeah. It hasn’t happened before.” No one would have listened to him before this.

“Then good news.”

“I guess.” Shane plays with the edge of his phone.

“You are not happy?”

“No, I’m happy. Very happy.”

“You do not sound happy? I sound happier? Am I happier?”

“Shut up. Your such an asshole.”

The hum rises on the other side.

“I am happy.”

“But?”

“I’m nervous.”

“Okay.”

“That’s it?”

“You are second best player. No worries needed.”

“Yeah, I keep forgetting Joe beats me out.”

“Very funny, ha ha.”

Shane finds a little laugh to offer.

“You are fucking boring clown.”

“Boring?”

“Yes, very boring. Joke done before.”

“Well, if it’s good enough the first time.”

“Was not good first time.”

“Was too.” Shane rubs at his arm.

“Very boring first time.”

“Who is sounding repetitive now?”

Rozanov says something in Russian.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“You said something.” Shane huffs. “Who is not being honest now?”

“Do not know word.”

“Repetitive. You’ve done it multiple times.”

“Ah, repeat like that.”

“Yeah, it’s a form of that.”

“I see.”

Shane rolls on his stomach to start playing with the cushion. “How long are you in Russia?”

“Another three weeks.”

“You enjoying it.”

“Yeah.”

Shane stretches his neck to the side. “If they announce it, you better post something nice on social media.”

“Do you not trust me?”

“No.”

“I post very nice.”

“It better be.”

“And you have party.”

“A party?”

“Yes, you big man, Montreal Voyager.”

“I only want a party if you are here,” slips from Shane before he can think wiser of his words.  

“Hmmm, you do?”

Shane is turning pink against the tone.

“See me for the after party too.”

“Maybe,” he whispers.

“Would you let me fuck you?”

Shane’s spine freezes.

“Or I eat you out again. Maybe couple times after you suck me off good. Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“Hmm, you getting hard.”

“We can’t do this.”

“Why not? You celebrate big win.”

Shane groans. “Don’t you need to go to bed.”

“I am only in boxers.”

“Don’t say that.” He groans out.

Rozanov laughs. “I come to party if can.”

“I’d like that,” Shane pants out.

“Good job Hollander. You fuck them out.”

Shane laughs. “Goodnight.”

“Da,” and then the call ends.

There is nothing more beautiful than Shane with his phone on his chest before he texts his parents to call him when they get off of work.

They are screaming when he tells them because they love him and want him to gain the dream he’s had since he was in middle school maybe even earlier than that. “This means the lawsuit is officially over.”

“Yeah,” Shane hadn’t thought about that portion because he won’t have to be worrying about suing about not being allowed in the draft or be allowed for others to talk to him. It was a big move.

“This is amazing,” his mother says.

“Do you want to play for Montreal?” his dad asks.

“Of course, it’s hockey,” his mom says.

“I don’t want him to feel pressured to pick the first team.” His dad was so practical in what Shane to have the best and not realizing this might be Shane’s only chance.  

“Reebok will definitely pay you more.”

Shane leans back against the couch counting the bumps in his ceiling. “They may not sign me,” he says. “It’s just a meeting.”

“They will sign you,” his mom says.

“They would be stupid not to,” his dad says.

“It’s their choice.”

“Well, if they don’t someone else will,” his mom says.

“And you have your team which you love,” his dad says.

They talk for a little while before Shane makes up an excuse to get off of the phone. “Love you,” he says.

“Love you too. Call us afterwards. You’ll do awesome.”

Shane taps his phone on his thigh before texting Naomi.

Shane

You won’t believe what happened to me.

Naomi

u got preg

He almost drops the phone.

Shane

What? I don’t even have a boyfriend

She can’t know about Rozanov, but sometimes she has this sixth sense.

Naomi

dont nd bf for preg

u nt know how it work

Shane groans rolling his eyes.

tell me

k

want to kno

k

Shane

Montreal Voyagers want a meeting with me.

Naomi

SHUT THE FRONT DOOR
FUCKING HELL
YES!!!!!!!!!!

The laughter bubbles his room because her passion is so much and adorable that it is for him. She’s supportive of him in this moment.

Shane

You can’t tell anyone

Naomi

obv

but like so excited

HYPED EVEN

CAUSE LKE FR, BEST NEWS TO DATE

Shane

Thank you

Naomi

            always supporting my man

doing great things

u message me when u know

Shane

I might not even learn tomorrow

Naomi

u are going to knock it out of the park

get an offer

be so legit yelling about it

MESSAGE ME BECAUSE IM BESTIE

n we freak out together

u playing in big leagues next season

Shane

Thank you for the confidence

Naomi

K

i need u to be more hyped

understand???????

WHERE IS THE ENEGRY

Shane

I just don’t text like you

Naomi

lame lame lame

all I can say

k

Shane

Okay

Naomi

y does nothing rile u

ugh, im taking u partying if u get it

or dont

either way u deserve

Shane

Maybe I’ll let you

Naomi

LET!?!!??!

hahahhhahaaha

good joke

Shane sets his phone down before pushing a pillow to his stomach as it rocks with the unease of thinking about the future and how it might change.

His scent might still be terrible the next day. He slept awful. He kept checking his phone. Maybe he forgot his meds, but he took his suppressants as it’s gone from its container. It could be the like five outfit changes.

Then he’s getting picked up by Farah and heading into the offices of the Montreal Voyagers. The hands in his lap twitch so that he isn’t tempted to chew on his cuticle.

“Are you okay?” Farah starts with.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure? You can be nervous.”

“It is like the dream,” Shane whispers.

“Yes, it is.”

They go over a game plan, but Shane still doesn’t feel one hundred percent or even really fifty percent confident about. Maybe it’s that this all feels so new walking in to the Voyager offices and meeting in a conference room with Farah and him on one side and everyone else on the other.

“Shane Hollander, Bob Gauthier.”

“Hello.”

“You must be Farah.”

“Yes, great to meet you.”

They are introduced around the room before sitting down.

“We know about the on-going lawsuits,” Bob Gauthier says. “But we believe that the lawsuit can be dropped.”

Shane tries not to adjust against the plastic seat so that it doesn’t creak.

“We would like to as the Montreal Voyagers, offer you a position our team. You would be a free agent, but we would love you on our team.”

“That sounds amazing,” Farah jumps in for Shane who is squeezing at the arm of his chair. “We would of course would love to read contracts.”

“We want to know if Shane would even be interested in this?” Theriault, the head coach asks.

Farah looks at him.

Shane adjusts. The room is very warm.

“We don’t have to have an answer today,” Bob Gauthier says.

“I am very interested,” Shane says. “The opportunity to stay here in Montreal, play with a Canadian team.”

“That’s sounds great,” Bob Gauthier says.

One of the Board Members, a female, Alpha leans forward. “Montreal is trying to be leading in the progressive movement and would love you on board.” The voice is stiff and like almost patronizing.

Bob Gauthier nods. “Not only as an omega but Asian a…Asian Canadian. We love being on the forefront of change.”

Yeah, that hadn’t been in the case a few years ago, so this change may help Shane get his dream. At the same time, it feels…he’s not sure how to describe. Shane is a great player can’t that be enough. Why are they lift him up like some prize because of the image he creates for the team? His bones feel icky and like he wants to yell at them.

Theraiult leans forward. “We would of course want to know Shane to feel comfortable with the offer, so we’d love to answer any questions.”

“And we’d love that too,” Farah adds.

Shane tries not to shake as he tries to keep up with the contract talk and having the beating drums saying that this is happening.

When they get back in the car, Farah whispers. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“It is a lot, but they are sending stuff over, and the coach seems to like you.”

Shane bobs his head. Is this what he wants? Yes, yes, it is. He’s shaking, he realizes.

The flood of texts and calls are enough to have him on edge and that’s just from telling a handful of people. When the contract is on its final version, he tells the hockey rink as well as his team. Then he calls up Ilya.

“Is big deal,” Ilya agrees.

And it really is.

When they announce it, and he’s standing there with jersey number 24 because they had the number that’s stayed with him for years available it meant the world. He’s smiling as he listens to everyone talking, and he attempts to keep his breathing even as he talks to the media who ask him not only about Rory but also others that might get signed in the coming months.

He is one of two omegas in the major league. That is a big fucking deal as Rozanov put it.

For the first summer since he signed with the Montreal Stars, he goes to the cottage with his parents. He lays and watches the water before taking his phone and sitting on the pier and calls Rozanov.

“You look good in pictures.” Rozanov sounds tired.

“Did I wake you up?”

“Need to get up. Is fine.”

“I should have texted first.”

“Are you good?”

Shane takes his phone away, snaps a photo, and then texts it to Rozanov.

“What doing?”

“Enjoying the view.”

“Oh, boring.”

Shane tries not to laugh but fails.

“Picture. Ah, not of dick, so boring.”

“Shut up. You said it was nice.”

Rozanov rumbles with a sleeping hum. “Is nice view.”

“It’s my parents.”

“Time off?’

“Yes, figured, I should rest up a little bit before playing this season.”

“Montreal, play Boston lot.”

“Yes, they do. They have a rivalry.”

“Nice, we see much of each other.”

“Yeah, we do.” Shane puts his hoodie strings into his mouth as the evening light is starting to stretch forwards.

“And maybe some off season. See each other.”

“Are we friends?”

“That is rude. I am friend. We won.”

“We won.” Shane is laughing.

“We did win, no?”

“We won.”

“You play hockey against me. Good game now.”

“Oh, I thought Scott made the game hard.”

“Shame me now. Hmm, you act like old man can beat me.”

“I think New York did pretty good against you last season.”

“Is lie.”

“Ah, the score is lying?”

“You watch my games.”

The grass warms against him while little bugs fleck around.

“Is nice, right?”

“You are such a dick.”

“You like.”

“No, no I don’t.”

“Hmm, fine to lie. I forgive.”

“Ugh, why did I call you?”

“You like voice.”

“Shut up.”

“Hmm, no, because you need to talk.”

“No, I don’t.” Shane wipes his face.  

“Think different.”

“What are you doing in Russia?”

There is a huff on the other line. “No much.”

“Really?”

“Running, partying, all fun things.”

“And your family?” Shane crosses his legs because he wonders what Rozanov goes back to there in Russia. What is it like for him?

“Fine.” The tone is different now.

Shane plays with his lip. “You spending time with them?”

“Staying with father.”

“That’s nice.”

The grunt makes Shane sit up.

“Anyway, I just wanted to call in and check on you.”

“Okay, we are friends then.”

“Because I checked in on you?”

“Yes, friends do right?”

“Yeah, I guess they do.”

Shane thinks about the phone conversation even the next morning as he runs around the quiet road where his parents’ cottage is tucked in the side road that is nice to be there. Everything seems so surreal even as he doesn’t have any headphones in and is just bearing with the weight of nature as well his thoughts.

His dad is in the kitchen making some eggs and toast. Shane gets the stuff out from the fridge for his smoothie to have alongside what his dad has.

“Shane,” his mom smiles leaning to kiss his dad. It is so domestic.

The whole time with them is. The last day, he’s packing having left his phone in the other room when his mom screeches.

He walks out before seeing her hold out his phone. “Look.”

He opens it up from Farah. CCM wants a deal.

Shane gasps with his mom screaming and his dad laughing. A CCM Hockey endorsement. What the fuck? This is amazing.

“Call her,” his mom shouts.

“I am, I am,” Shane pants out before opening up the phone.

Once they talk about logistics, Farah says. “I’m sending you a contract then information.”

“Okay.”

On the drive back to Montreal, Shane looks at the email with the contract at a gas station. He stares at the information before tipping his head. Ilya Rozanov will be there. Huh. That can’t be a coincidence.

Chapter End Notes

I am going to try to post a chapter tomorrow, but if not, I don't know that I'm going to get one out until next week. I am kind of busy over the next few days including a little traveling, so I'm not sure if I'll have time to write. Don't worry, I do have the rest of the fic outlined, and I'm really excited to keep working on this. And if Hudson and Connor keep doing interviews, I am going to keep being very motivated to keep writing whether it is in this fic or a new one. Cannot wait until the new episode because it has some of my favorite scenes (but also crying because I can't believe we won't get any new content until 2027...like sobbing....for real...I need more....).

Keep safe lovelies!!!!!!

Chapter 16: Ilya - Captain is Captivated

Chapter Summary

Ilya hangs out with Shane at the CCM shot, enjoys some time with his teammate, and also gets to play Montreal for the first time with Shane on it.

Chapter Notes

Warning: There is a sex scene early on in case you want to skip it, but then during the training camp lunch, you are clear until the end of the chapter.

When Rozanov brought up to CCM Hockey that they should do an ad shot with him and Hollander because the internet is already obsessed with their hate to somewhat friendship that formed and that Rozanov was upfront with the media on what he thought about omega rights. They did agree because they thought it would blow up enough to have that photoshoot. Many of the photos were separate but then the handful together were amazing as well. Sure, Ilya laughed for some of them which did irritate the director some, but it was also so much fun and amazing to be by Hollander in his Montreal gear draping his framing making him look even more amazing. The ounce of pride thumps in Rozanov’s chest. Hollander did it. He made it to his dream in a way that was so different than Rozanov, and he looks so serious about it which is also very adorable.

He wishes he could sneak into the locker room that they gave Hollander just to see the omega instead, he has to just text him and then hurry out. Hollander comes out pulling at his bag.

“Hello.”

“Not here.”

“Dinner?”

“They will take pictures.”

Ilya throws out his hand. “Every time out, so?” Because he just wants to get the opportunity to be with Shane.

“I am in the league now.”

Okay, so Hollander needed to be careful, but Ilya is dying to see him and maybe wants to have sex if Hollander is down that is. “Room number?”

“This is a bad idea.”

“You not want?”

Hollander switches shoulder.

“Come on.”

“1410.”

Ilya grins. “Nine.”

“I don’t know.”

Ilya raises an eyebrow. “Maybe I knock.”

Later, he gets changed and over grinning as he knocks on the door. Hollander quickly opens. Ilya steps in and starts looking around.

“You want to sit down.”

“No.” Ilya starts to kiss him boxing the omega to the wall. His hands run up the side of the omega whose own hands rub the edge of his jaw. Their bodies flush together as Shane’s fully against the wall.

“Fuck,” Shane says with a perfect voice.

It is heaven. Ilya flutters kisses on his neck. “On your knees.”

The omega falls.

Ilya hadn’t even used his Alpha voice but part of him doubts it with the speed on which Shane dropped. His fly opens and cock brought out. Quickly the warmth of the omega’s mouth swallows him. The gasp burns the room. Ilya hand roots into the dark hair that rests on the omega’s scalp. The ridges of the skull massage under his hand as he finds the beat on which Shane is taking his cock.

His cock is swelling within the heated mouth. Tongue dances. Teeth tough. Lips suck.

“Up,” he gasps before tugging the omega to his feet. They lips meet. Ilya picks up the omega and carries him to the bed. The body thumps on the mattress. Ilya throws off his shirt and pants before rising over the omega who has shucked his pants and boxers as well. The omega has started folding them. Ilya grabs the hands and then tugs off the hoodie. “You are so pretty.”

The blush goes divine with the freckles.

Ilya attacks him. “On your side.” He slaps on Shane before the omega moves with a kink in his forehead.

Ilya messages the omega’s hole before kissing on the Omega’s shoulder. Starts sucking.

“Don’t leave marks.”

“I want to,” but he stops.

His fingers plant in more firmly before sinking down and sucking causing the moan. His lips are glosses in the omega’s wetness begging for him to fuck. The finger slips in.

Shane gasps.

“Good?”

“Yes.”

Now Ilya regrets having him move because his whole body begs to see the omega’s face. His hands shuffle the hips making Shane fall on his back. Ilya grabs the legs and frame them on his shoulders before he starts to finger and suck on the hole until the omega stutters and comes with a gasp.

Ilya grins dropping the legs and coming up the omega with his hardened cock causing the omega to moan, but then Shane grabs the cock. His hand drops further in a buck of his hips. His fingers come back glazed in his own cum before finding Ilya. Heaven. Truly. The rubbing and mixing of the Alpha’s hard cock with the omega cum. The rubbing. Fingering of ball. The pants. Kissing lips.

And then the spray on the omega’s stomach for it to glisten.

Ilya hates having to leave that hotel room, but he can’t see. They give see you in a few months and that’s so stiff. Unemotional like the moment they just had.

Rozanov is ready to start training camp to prep for the season. He’s feeling the rhythm. They hired LeClaire to take over as lead. He seems like a descent coach and Ilya liked him as assistant coach. He plays with his tongue before getting back to the ice.

Isla eats lunch along with Stephen and a few others including Ryan Price. It is nice to have the captain title with his name and have everyone looking to him. The Olympics is looming ahead where he will have to play against at least one of his own teammates as well as several from New York, Tampa, Detroit, and many other teams. Ryan is not with them having been traded again, but they have taken on by Marlow.

“Are you excited to play Montreal?” Stephen ribs him.

“I am,” Marlow steps in stabbing his fork loud enough in the cooked veggies that it tings.

“Technically we are playing him again,” Isla says.

“Some played with him,” Stephen says.

“How about you Roz?” Isla asks.

Finally, Ilya gives them a look, but he keeps his face blank. “I am. He is good player.”

“It’s crazy how this season is going to go,” Marlow says.

“What does that mean?” Stephen squints.

“I’m just saying, omegas playing, who would have thought?”

“Roz believed in it,” Stephen says.

Isla hums, “I can’t believe they traded giving him a job rather than paying the lawsuits.”

“What?” Ilya can’t help but snap his head to stare over at Isla because was she actually agree with Marlow?

“Dude the NHL was about to lose that lawsuit. It was getting heard in court, and like that is why they signed him and Rori and like those other three because they knew they had to show fairness to get it thrown out. They don’t have millions if not hundreds of millions to spend. They were going to lose that case.”

“But he wants to play hockey?” So what is the problem? Ilya wonders.

“He had a spend a ton of money over the years trying to play,” Stephen says it like Ilya is dumb.

“He got what he wanted.” Marlow’s loses a piece of food from his mouth.  

“At what cost?” Isla says.

“A lot?” Ilya remembers the two jobs that Hollander talked about having and even the comments and the old car. Maybe Ilya should buy him a JEEP even if it is a boring car. He had offered to pay, which Shane had shot down, but maybe there was something he could do. 

Isla adjusts her tray. “Come on, it’s like Hollander has had to go basically broke for this. No one believed in it, but he kept at it. It’s a big deal.”

“Yes.” That makes a lot of sense thinking about it. There could be a moral or even just pride thing that prevent Shane from wanting to pay his lawyer fees or anything more than a plane ticket, but Ilya would. He wanted to play good hockey, and Shane as well as others are proving that they can. 

“And we get paid millions and get giant brand deals.”

Ilya tips his head before staring over because there has to be something he can do even if it isn't directly to Shane but another way. 

“Yeah, did you see how much Reebok is paying him?” Stephen says.

“It’s better now?” Marlow says with his mouth full.

“It’s still not equal.”

“How much?” Ilya needs to know.

“It’s like a third of what I make and before that like an eighth. There is a huge outcry,” Isla says. “And I don’t even make as much as some of their bigger players.”

“Is bad?”

“It’s sexists and omegaphobic,” Stephen says.

“He’s a rook,” Marlow says.

“If you don’t have anything helpful to say,” Isla glares.

“Sorry,” Marlow mutters. “I’m just making a point.

Connors comes and sits down. He was traded in this year and seems like he’s going to be a fast player and seems to be gelling well with the team.

“What do you think Connors?” Marlow says loudly.

He looks caught in the headlights.

“About the omegas? Like Hollander?”

“Playing, it is amazing,” Connors says.

“Great answer,” Stephen says.

“Didn’t Captain speak out about it?” Connors says.

“Don’t call him that,” Isla says.

“I am Captain,” Rozanov thumps his chest. Maybe this is a way to alter the topics because if he seems to invested in Shane Hollander then people may ask him questions that would not look good for Shane and cause problems like that post that felt like years ago not months.

Isla rolls her eyes.

Yet the conversation holds with Rozanov. It does feel very unjust for omegas to have to suffer so much, so he makes a choice. Ilya donates for the omega hockey fund as that money apparently goes to fighting rights as well. It’s not enough, but something about it helps, especially as they are playing Montreal soon.

Talking to the press is another nightmare. He’s gotten better as his English grows, but it is still a tough game. Then the question falls.

“How do you feel about playing Montreal?”

“Good.” That sticks to being simple.

“Are you fine playing against omega?” another asks.

“Yes, I say so, many times, do you not listen?”

Several laugh and the reporter seems flustered. Sure, he’ll probably get a lecture about being sassy, but the reporter deserves it and the fans will love it.

“Do you believe you can beat Montreal?”

“Hollander will make it tough game, but we, we will be better.”

“Is that because Montreal has put on omega?”

“Would have been easy game? Boring game, but now, better game. Fun to beat.”  And he winks before walking away.

Hollander texts him later.

Shane

Reporters don’t like you

Ilya

They love me

Everyone does

Shane

Pretty sure at least one of them wanted to kill you.

Ilya

Do not lie

They love me

Shane

They are trying to get you to say something that will blow up on YouTube.

Ilya

I have

You not seen clips

Everyone loves me.

Shane

Riling them up doesn’t help the situation .

Ilya

Eh

Shane

You do not care

Ilya

You ready to lose?

Shane

Pretty sure I’m not losing

Ilya

Pretty sure you are

Shane

Has anyone told you that your cocky?

Ilya

Is good thing in Russia?

Shane

I know you take it as a compliment

But it is meant as an insult.

Ilya

If you say so

In Montreal, hang out?

Your apartment

So no pictures

Shane

I don’t know.

Ilya

We have fun, yes?

I eat you out again

Shane

Dude

You can’t just text that.

Ilya

Yes

Is sexting

Shane

Why do you keep using that word?

Ilya

Is good word

Shane

Don’t think so

Ilya

I bring food

Good food

Fish maybe

And then we talk

Hockey stuff

Then I eat you out

Better?

Shane

I’ll think about it

Ilya will take what he can get.

Next thing he knows, he’s flying to Montreal for the game that he’s been dying for. He gets to play Shane Hollander in hockey in front of the world and maybe later, they hang out with each other and maybe they have sex. That is also exciting part.

Playing is what he needs to focus on. It’s okay if they don’t have sex. They can be friends. They can be very good friends.

Ilya may be bouncing on his feet when he gets off the plane and several including Cliff Marlow who sat by him gives a glance.

What surprises him is that they don’t have Shane on the first line? What the fuck is going on there? He faces off trying not to feel like a jilted lover. The game is intense. It takes a few changes before he is on the ice the same time as Hollander, and they face off. Hollande chews on his mouthguard before they lean facing off a few feet from the net.

“Shane Hollander.”

The omega barely flicks a look.

“Are you going to disappoint them?”

“No.”

“Hmm.”

“I beat you in Boston.”

And the puck drops, and Hollander beats him on Montreal ice.

Fucking hell. But at the same time as they flow on the ice, and then Hollander gets it and gets it in the net, the look of anger on Ilya’s face isn’t as real as it would normally be because Hollander just showered why he should be on the first line not some back member who is tossed to the side. Rozanov wanted that, but Hollander wanted it more.

Shane is on fire. He gets two nets and one assist.

They face off a few times. It goes about fifty-fifty.

And Montreal comes out on top 4-3. Ilya hates lose, but he can’t be too mad because Montreal is fucking beating them because of Shane Hollander. Every time Hollander was on the ice, he was burning through their line and observing. It seemed like few people could keep up. The guy stayed out of fights (which is wise), and is able to maneuver quickly. Ilya can keep up as well as some of the line, but it’s like playing with the top players like Scott Hunter not someone in their rookie year in the NHL.

Ilya grins as he texts Hollander.

Ilya

What do you want for dinner?

He gets changed before he hears it buzz again.

Shane

I’m not eating McDonald’s

Ilya

Okay, so fish?

Shane

Can you pick up sushi from here?

(Link to a restaurant)

Ilya can totally do that as it’s not far from the hotel and an easy walk. He leaves with nearly $200 of sushi before taking a cab to Shane’s little apartment. Once he’s buzzes in and takes the elevator ride up, he knocks on the door. It snaps open, and he steps in with the bags.

“You took forever.”

Ilya has to laugh.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Ilya looks Shane over. He still looks just as divine as before.

“Ugh.” Shane scrapes a hand through his hair.

“Congratulations,” rolls off of Ilya’s tongue.

“We have a good line.”

“We will see if you win again.”

Shane starts helping unpack the food.

“Why are you not first line? Is boring without you?”

“I’m a rookie.”

“Not real rookie.”

“They consider me a real rookie.”

“Is bad decision for team? Stupid.”

Shane sighs.

“What?” There is something that he isn’t sharing. “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Is something?” Ilya catches the omegas shirt. The hurt eyes look to him. “Hollander?”

“I am an omega. I’ll always be an omega, okay?”

“Yes.” Ilya rubs a hand on her arm.

“That’s a bad thing.”

“No.”

“To them it is. They see me as weak.”

“You are not weak. You are great fucking player.”

Shane starts plating. “To them it is.”

“They are stupid. Come play for Boston.” Ilya hugs him.

Shane laughs.

“Play for Boston. We love you. You be my right wing.”

“You would be my wing.”

“No.” Ilya says dramatically before hugging Shane lower down. “No, you are so mean.”

Shane turns, and their lips catch. It feels so normal, so domestic, so nice, but not more because it can’t be, but for now, Ilya is just there and in the moment.

Chapter End Notes

I loved The Cottage. I just adored it, and I am so happy that they have already signed on for another season. Also, I am so happy to be back writing in this fic. Hope you enjoy this update. I might be writing this into the new year's as a way to try and make it a good years. :)

Stay safe lovelies!!!!!!

Chapter 17: Shane - First Line Energy

Chapter Summary

Shane is trying to find his footing in the NHL and also who he is to Ilya and himself.

Chapter Notes

Thank you for all the love and comments. They mean so much. I want to announce that this fic will probably be around 30 chapters. I am also probably going to private this fic in a few chapters. I tend to do this so it is less likely to get scraped by AI. If you have an account, you can still read it, but if you don't, accounts are worth having!!!!

Keep safe lovelies!!! Hope to feed you guys tomorrow!

Shane tries to hope that things will get better. He has taken a spot on first line. The guy who had it before him is in his mid-thirties, and suddenly he’s now second line and second line is now third line, and Shane is first line, which is awesome but also a ton of pressure because everyone is waiting…waiting for his failure. Sure, people are happy for him like Ilya and Naomi. His mom is so proud of him. She has his jersey, his shirts, and even helping Farah with getting brand deals. Rolex is sponsoring him which is awesome. Adidas is interested in picking him up if Reebok doesn’t renew. There is another perfume brand, Montreal adds, even a drink company, but what Shane wants to focus on his hockey.

In the locker room, side eyes are worse. Shane has a separate place to shower and even change if he wants, but he declined it. He wants to be seen as an equal, so he is there in the locker room with them. Their silence is enough to slice, but out of it all it turns out JJ and Hayden Pike are the two lights.

It starts with casual conversation but then one day after a game, Pike yells out, “Hollander.”

Shane snaps his head. Hayden Pike, who hasn’t ribbed him yet is grinning over. “You want to have dinner?”

Shane’s jaw twitches. Because of course this would happen. They would ask him out and try to rib him and…

“Jackie, my wife, she’s making steak and well she wants to be the first WAG to feed you. I mean she’ll make something else.”

“I’m on a diet,” flings out because this also feels like a trap but also Shane can’t just eat steak.

“So bird food. I can tell her that. We’ve got to have salad and chicken; can you have that?”

“Probably,” he whispers.

“So you’re coming?”

“Sure,” Shane says.

“She’ll be thrilled.” Hayden basically is giggling.

Shane forces a smile because it is nice as this is the first offer to hang with anyone on the team. It’s not Naomi, who he still misses on the ice even though they are in the same city and can hang out some.

JJ is nice in including him in the banter and making comments about how good Hollander is to the team.

Yet the others mutter things, will elbow him, and even won’t pass on the ice. The coach will yell at them, but at the same time, will make his own comments towards Shane including warnings about how if he messes up, he won’t be on first line.

Shane won’t mess up. He’s promised himself this.

On a free night that both him and the Montreal Stars are off, he goes out to a bar with them. He orders a ginger ale and enjoys having conversation and catch up with everyone as Naomi hangs off of his spine.

“I can’t believe it,” one fault of Naomi is that she starts shouting after she has had two drinks.

“What?” Hollander laughs.

“You, you dummy.” She shoves him. “Playing first line fucking NHL hockey is what I’m talking about.”

Hollander rolls his eyes.

“You’ve always been great,” Denny says.

“You are doing us good,” Joe says.

“I can say I played with the Shane Hollander before he forgot all about us,” Naomi says.

“Hey, I still text you.”

“It’s not the same,” She drapes herself into his lap.

He starts playing with her hair.

“I miss you in the locker room. At work. At like fucking everything. You would talk to me and tell me all about the lawsuits. Who else can I start thinking about to fall asleep?”

Joe flicks her hand for another beer. “She doesn’t like Aiden.”

Shane tips his drink on its lip. “The new center line?”

“He’s so mean,” Naomi groans.

“He is not that bad,” Joe says.

“He’s not you,” Renea says.

“No one is Shane,” Naomi sobs.

“She also broke up with her situationship,” Renea mouths.

“Shut up.” Naomi sits up.

“What?” Shane feels empty.

“It’s nothing. It’s nothing. It was nothing.” Naomi laughs before getting up. “I’ll get you another Ginger Ale.”

Shane stares after her. He drives a few of them home. He takes Naomi last.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks softly.

“She wasn’t worth it.”

“It hurt you.”

“You don’t text me.”

“I do.”

“But not like we used to.”

Shane sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“I just miss us.”

“We live in the same city. Let’s be better about meeting up.”

“We are both busy.”

“Not that busy. You are still my best friend.”

“That’s why I love you.”

Shane parks and helps her out.

“You are so sweet. Always so sweet.”

Part of Shane wonders as he steps into the locker room to be hit by a wall of silence. Pike does turn. “Hey how are you doing?”

“Good,” Shane unloads in the cubby by Pike. JJ slaps him on the back before heading towards his own cubby. No one else. Murmurs flutter. If this had been the Stars locker room, jokes would fling, someone would comment on an omega thing, Naomi would be fighting with someone, Joe would be texting her wife, someone would be talking about a sick kid and several would dramatically overreact, and it would feel like…well feel like home and safety and how a locker room should.

Not stiff like the Montreal Voyagers right now.

No wonder they had lost their last game. No wonder they weren’t always clicking. No wonder this wasn’t the same or how he dreamed it to be. They weren’t treating him the same.

People asked about it. He lied. Well, Ilya knew some of the truth but not everything. Not all the details or truly that it may be getting worse. There is a note in his bag after practice calling him names. He throws it out. Maybe he should turn it in, but he won’t. It’s already bad enough without him being a snitch.

It’ll get better.

But that’s a lie.

It just gets worse.

Sometimes it is opponents. Some check him hard. Some yell names, especially as he’s facing them off at middle ice trying to get him to lose his concentration.

But as he knows, he’s good at hockey, and very little can make him waver.

As much as he’s heard hate for New York and the Admiral team, they are actually fine to play as an omega at least. Scott Hunter even talks to him before the game, which was nice, and they do beat the Admirals. Scott still says nice things in interviews, which Shane shouldn’t watch because not everyone is as polite as Scott Hunter or Ilya Rozanov (who says shit but also defends him).

They play Boston one more time before they head to the Olympics. It seems ironic that he’s looking forward to playing on an omega team again.

This time the game is in Boston, but Rozanov texts him about hanging out. They still text but not to the same level partly because Shane just doesn’t text him back as regularly and maybe traveling makes it tougher. The idea that someone on his team might leak that he’s messaging Ilya Rozanov also forces Shane to only text before and after he’s at the arena. Never at it. He even turns his phone off so that there is no possibility of Ilya’s name on it.

Eventually, he changed it to IB (Ilya Boston) so that no one can even guess who is sending him stuff just in case at the airport or bus or hotel room, something happens. He shares a room with Hayden Pike. Pike offered which was nice of him since very few others seem okay with sharing a room with an omega.

Several people make comments including ‘Don’t tell Jackie’ or ‘does you wife know’ or ‘you sly dog.’ Pike immediately goes after them, but in his way of sarcasm and bite that truly alienates him from the team. Part of Shane feels bad because Pike seemed to have a good spot before Shane, and now, he’s brought on the edges. JJ bounces back and forth often just staying quiet and observing. Part of Shane wants him to step up, but at the same time, it’s safer for JJ. And maybe, it’ll get better, but even that now tastes like a lie.  

It’s an afternoon game.

Boston beats them by one point. It’s not on Shane. The goalie is on a good day for Boston, and the defense for the Montreal Voyagers just isn’t able to keep up with Ilya and others on the forward line. He doesn’t go out with the team, but sneaks off on his own to outside the hotel where Ilya picks him up.

“Your team play like shit.”

Shane wants to hop out of the car.

“You play, very good though.”

Shane sighs. “Yeah whatever.”

“If they play more with you, be better.”

Shane can’t disagree. As soon as they are in the apartment, he attacks Ilya. Anything to peel his mind away from the misery of his team and their antics and hate. They are taking off each other’s clothes. Ilya steps away throwing his on the ground. Shane folds his onto the chair while Ilya props on the bed just watching him like a meal being cooked.

“What?”

“You are pretty.”

Shane rolls his eyes.

“Very pretty, and undressing for me.” The words roll off of the Russian’s tongue.

“Hmm, I could get dressed.”

“No. Come here.”

“No, you come here.” Shane laughs, but he is walking to Ilya. Ilya stands to catch him so that they can keep kissing. They fall into the bed. At first Shane straddles on top. They are peppering each other in kisses.

“I missed this,” Ilya mutters.

“Hmm.”

“You don’t text me enough.”

“Shut up.”

“You love hockey too much.”

Shane grabs the Alphas cock because Shane wants to think of anything but hockey over the past few months. The cock bucks with Ilya’s hips before the Alpha’s hands plant on his hips trapping Shane’s hand as well as his cocklet between them. Shane groans.

“You are very ready.”

Shane kisses him. “Stop talking.”

“I can do that.”

Ilya rolls them over before grabbing the drawer. He snaps it open taking out lube.

“You are fucking me.”

“Okay.”

Shane stares.

“I will not, not without your….”

“Permission,” Shane fills in the word as the Russian got a look.

“Yes. That.”

“Okay.”

“Just mouth and hands, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

“Good.” The cap pops off before the Alpha’s fingers are coats. Kisses warm his chest. Then the cocks slip together in the gently lubed fingers. Shane cranes his head back. His body shivers and then begins to melt in the warmth. Everything is beauty. Their bodies. The other hand guiding Shane along. Wow. Wow.

“Fuck,” is that comes out of his mouth as he climaxes with the Alpha.

Later after Ilya has given him a washcloth, and Ilya goes to take a quick rinse, Shane sits with his legs curled up to his chest while staring over to the side as Ilya steps in. His head tips with the blonde curls are soaked from taking a quick shower. “You, okay?” the accent rolls against the words.

The grunt doesn’t even sound believable to Shane.

Ilya settles on the couch and digs for Shane’s hand from Ilya’s old hoodie. “You are not okay. You can tell me. I help you.”

His lips are already sore from how much he’s been messing with them.

“Shane.”

“This is supposed to be my dream.”

Rozanov lays his head on Shane’s leg curling up so that he’s facing the back of the couch. “Even dreams are hard.”

Shane loses a tear. Why is he crying?

Ilya rubs at his leg. “But you have me, and I have you. We good. Good together. Right?”

“Are we?”

“Yes. Yes.” The Alpha rolls to stare up but still keeps his head weighing on Shane’s legs. “Who do I beat up?”

Shane laughs then because the little look on Rozanov’s face when he says it is adorable along with the accent.

Rozanov doesn’t smile. “No, I will beat them up for you.”

“No one needs beaten up.”

“Yes, they make you cry. They need pain too.”

Shane rubs at Ilya’s hair before leaning down and kissing him. “That’s very sweet of you.”

Ilya stares.

“It’s nothing. Everyone is just.” Shane sighs and looks to the shades on the windows before glancing down. It’s a burden to tell others. He needs to suck it up and deal with it rather than just trauma dumping on everyone.

The Alpha rolls on the side so that he can kiss Shane’s sweats and leg.

“It’s nothing.”

Rozanov sits up so that he’s face. “Talk.”

“I’m an omega.” That’s obvious but it is the root of everything. “It is rough for them. They are having to adjust.”

Ilya raises his eyebrow.

“What it is different? They haven’t had to deal with it, and I don’t want to let the team down.”

“You carry team.”

Shane rolls his eyes.

“Yes, you carry team.” Ilya’s hand presses on Shane’s chest. “They are lucky. I take them down when we play next time.”

Shane rolls his eyes.

“I am serious. All dead. On ice. For you.”

Shane really needs to deflect away. “That means you are beating me.”

Ilya kisses him.

As they get ready to part, Shane is hugging at the hoodie that Ilya gave him.

“You can hate team.”

That would just ruin their ability to play at all on the ice, and he would be blamed just like he already is. “I shouldn’t.”

Ilya shrugs. “Stay.”

“Hayden will notice.”

“He is your mother?”

“Shut up.” He pushes on Ilya’s chest.

They both shift on their legs while Shane tugs on his hoodie and slips on his shoes.

“See you in Russia?” That sounds so weak.

Ilya shoves a hand into his pocket.

“For the Olympics. I mean I know I might not, but if I can watch you play, I will.”

“Okay.”

“Your parents must be thrilled.”

The Alpha shrugs.

Okay maybe he’s going about this wrong. “Will they be there?”

“Father, yes, brother, maybe.”

“And your mom?”

The Alpha just grunts.

“My parents wish they could come. My mom says she’s going to be watching is, getting up at like two in the morning,” Shane laughs because his mom is adorable.

Rozanov then leans down and kisses him. “Your cab is waiting.”

“Oh, yeah.” Shane starts to move before glancing back. “See you?”

“Yes.”

Shane tries not to pay attention to the stiffness of the Alpha in those final words as he gets in his cab to head back to the hotel before curfew. He can’t get caught breaking anything.

Then two weeks later, he’s head to Russia.

Shane even though there is a risk to be in Russia loves being there with the omega team. Canada does win the gold in the omega league and get a silver in the Alpha league, but he also gets to hang out with other NHL players including Scott and Carter who seem really nice as well as JJ who is much brighter. He spots Ilya and tries to talk to him, but is brushed off as well as having any texts ignored.

Last time had felt different but maybe Shane was wrong.

Just like how he was wrong that Montreal would sign him again. It’s getting late in the season and still neither he nor Farah have been contacted about a renewal. That’s causing an itch in his spine worse than Ilya not texting him.

Chapter 18: Ilya - Weeks Without Taught You What I Want

Chapter Summary

Ilya realizes just how much he wants to be with Shane.

Chapter Notes

Thank you for the continued comments and kudos. I can't believe that this has more kudos compared to anything else I've posted. It is blowing me away. You guys mean so much to me. Thank you for your support!!!!!

Sorry that this lands on a bit of a cliffhanger. You've been warned....

Enjoy the bite though because I'll feed you again tomorrow. Hope you are having a good time lovelies!!!!

Ilya hates Russia. He’s knocked out early. He’s showboated around by his father who struggles to even remember that his first wife is dead, Ilya’s mother, and that Ilya isn’t a teenager but a grown adult. Shane tries to reach out because doesn’t understand.

Alpha males are to be with beta women, omega women, or alpha women. Alpha women are to be with beta men, omega men, or alpha men. Omega men can only be with Alpha women, and omega women can only be with Alpha men. Betas can date either omegas or betas of the opposite gender. But any male on male or women on women love is shamed. It is brought on the family as horrible. He can’t think about Shane here.

Svetlana is here, which helps some at least at the parties so that he can have someone in his corner.

Everything feels sluggish. Getting back to the states with the fire that Svetlana put in his soul, he plans everything out. Montreal for the first time in a few years is in the playoffs which is amazing even though they lose in the second match maybe because they aren’t playing with Shane Hollander, which is annoying since that means Boston and Montreal don’t face off.

Also, it’s irritating that they don’t send him to the all-star game. That’s another thing.

Ilya

Why are you not going to all-star game?

Because it didn’t even seem like Hollander put his name in.

Shane

Other things going on with the team

Ilya

They tell you to pull name?

Shane

You haven’t messaged me since before the Olympics

Ilya

You won gold

You want me to suck your dick

Shane

You can’t just text things like that

The alpha smiles because maybe Hollander isn’t alone and has to hide his phone because of Ilya.

Ilya

You come to Vegas?

Shane

I’ve been invited

Ilya

We meet up there

Have fun

Shane

That’s dangerous

When does that matter, he wants to spend time with his omega. Okay, it does matter. Maybe Shane wants to separate. Maybe he’s realized that Ilya’s not worth it.

His face ticks.

Maybe the omega just needs some flirting and humor since Ilya really did ignore him because Russia fucks with his head sometimes.

Ilya

I win MVP

Need trophy

Shane

I think they give you a trophy

Tough scene to break into.

Ilya

You are bad at sexting

Shane

Were you trying to call me a trophy?

That is so omegaphobic

Fuck that isn’t what Ilya meant by it.

Ilya

I am sorry

Did not know

But I want to see you

Even if you are boring

Shane

We’ll see

I don’t even think I got selected for anything

Pretty sure Rory didn’t either

Okay, that shouldn’t be right. The cross tugs on Ilya’s lip. And Shane doesn’t seem to horrible. Ilya does a search looking to see if any of the omegas were selected. They hadn’t been. He flicks back over the text chain.

Ilya

That is wrong

You should be rookie of year

Or most nice trophy

Shane

The Lady Byng Memorial Trophy?

Pretty sure they only hand that out to players after a few years

Ilya

You know trophy name

You want

Shane

Everyone wants that

Ilya

No is boring award

Only boring ppl want

Shane

It’s an honor

It’s like one of the best ones

Ilya

No, no, is not best one

(picture of the Stanley cup)

Shane

(rolling eye emoji)

Ilya smirks before going to win his Stanely cup, and it’s amazing to send a picture to Shane who does congratulate him.

Ilya is basically bursting from his skin when he gets to go the Vegas and spots Shane Hollander. His parents are with him. His mom looks amazing, and his dad looks boxed in by his tux. He goes over and shakes their hands.

“Rozanov,” Mrs. Hollander says. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” he forces before glancing at Shane.

“I hope you win MVP.”

“I will,” he smiles brightly.

“Oh,” she says.

There is an awkward pause.

“It is good to see you here,” Ilya says wanting to add that he’s proud Shane isn’t on his arm but here on his own invite because he had a fucking amazing year even if the league isn’t recognizing him or any of the other four omegas that played in the league.

It’s the opposite. The host makes several jokes. The camera makes way too many pans to the omegas. Rory raises her glass. Hayley looks at the camera with a sharp raise of her eyebrow. Boden, the other male omega, rolls his eyes and then laughs. Shane looks stiff and forces just a small smile before locking back to the ceremony. His mom gives concerned looks but both of his parents have shown man face. Ilya though looks after the camera moves away, and one or the other is always leaning forward saying something. Shane just shakes it off.

It must be a shock. All four omegas did great on their leagues and had pretty high stats. None of them like Hollander but all decent and above most of their team. Of course, they had all played a few years in the omega league, but stepping into a role where the media stared at them is impressive. Each team that had signed them hadn’t made it to the playoffs in several years, but they had this season. Some said it was just coincidence, and sure none of them had made it high, but it was more than coincidence or something that could be written off. Everyone knew that.

Pike (which Ilya’s not stalking but according to the journals and even a few of Shane’s messages the pair has gotten close) isn’t here but stayed home with his kids which would have been the only safe person beyond Ilya that he knew for sure. Carter and Hunter seemed nice at the Olympics as well as having the other omegas around. A few people congratulate him outside of that, but it still feels like he’s on the stiff outer edges of the world.

Once he’s made his rounds, Rozanov hides on the roof. Shane must be looking for him because he sends a text. Ilya bows his head. A few minutes later, he sends the text, Come to the roof. Shane makes the trek up because only a few moments later the door rattles. The lights of the buildings shimmer the form leaning on the railing caught in the wind of the high rise.

“Hey,” Shane says.

Ilya glances back. “Hello.”

“What are you doing up here?”

Ilya shrugs because no other words come to his brain.

“Congrats on MVP.”

“Thank you.”

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”

“You should have been rookie of year,” Ilya leans on the railing turning partially to the side so that he can see the omega.

Shane cranes his head up before glancing over. “And what MVP too?” which is too far of a stretch because he’s nowhere near the excellence of Justin Ward or Scott Hunter or Tim Buffin who is up this year for MVP, but it sounds nice and it feels just right to jab Ilya with it.

“Yes.”

The laugh burns into nothing against the skyline of Vegas. “Yeah right. Put the omega up. They don’t even want me here.”

“I do.” And he means it with every word. Shane deserves to the praise.

The tears scrape at Shane’s irises.

“You deserve to have at least been on the list.” Nominated, that is what the word is. “I may have led team to cup, but you almost outscore me.”

“There’s the brag.”

“Amazing player,” flings out before Ilya can stop it.

“You have MVP, so it’s not like you understand,” Shane spits out before pushing off the railing.

Rozanov parts his lips. The little dimple that sometimes forms twitches before he clamps his mouth down.

“Right. I just thought. Never mind.” Shane walks off the step.

“Hollander.”

He turns around.

“See you next season.” The cigarette flickers in the Russians hand.

“Yeah, sure.”

The Alpha struts closer bearing a weight over Shane who flicks his eyes up rather than bends to stare at the six-foot three man before him. Then the kiss plows him into the wall. They are kissing deeply. He grasps onto the hip before rolling forwards. The shove startles Ilya. It pushes him back while Shane’s pants with flames around the edges of his eyes.

“What the fuck?”

Ilya flinches before Shane pushes him to the wall.

“We are in tuxes. In public. Fuck. What are you fucking thinking?”

“No one will notice,” slips from his lips, but if Ilya Rozanov gets caught kissing, he won’t be blames. No, the omega made the alpha lust. Or the omegas shouldn’t be in the league because they slut out to their peers. Nothing more. Maybe Ilya is a dummy.

Shane pinches his nose before hurrying away.

“Hollander. Hollander. Shane.” How can he fix this? He wants Shane, and seeing him now, made him realize just how stupid the last few weeks had been. He needed the omega. He needed him in his life. The fire just to adore it.

Shane rushes down the stairs. Ilya races after him. He has to catch him before the omega gets to the party, and the number gets blocked, and whatever also crashes away.  

“Hollander?” it is truly a beg.

Shane turns around.

Thank the fuck.

“What?” the omega’s eyes burn with the mused hair.

“I am sorry.” That’s all that he can really say.

His face twitches.

Trying to find the words because he wants Shane. “Come to Boston. Or I’ll fly to Montreal. I go back in four days, but we could have…”

The face crumples. “What?”

Ilya swallows. “Please, Hollander. We are friends, and….”

The and hangs between them.

“And tonight, I can text you.”

Shane isn’t saying anything.

Ilya needs him to say something. “Would you answer?”

“Maybe.” And Shane hurries away leaving Ilya in the echoing staircase.  

Chapter 19: Shane - Pieces Slipping Together

Chapter Summary

Shane does knock and does invite Ilya to Montreal.

Chapter Notes

Warning this has a lot of sex scenes in it. There are some conversations but also smut. I will warn as I did in an early chapter that writing the smut portion is not my strongest suite, but I hope it is good enough that it doesn't jolt you out of the story.

Thank you for still reading this fic. And thank you for the comments. They are so sweet and encouraging to read. Keep safe lovelies!!!!!

Shane does knock on his door. Ilya opens up. Shane does try to talk himself out of it, but the pull. It tugs him towards the Alpha, the room, and the forbidden dance that the omega has fallen into. So yes, he knocks. After the sex, they sit on the bed with Ilya smoking because that’s allowed in this hotel in Vegas which is nice, maybe dangerous, but nice at the same time. They remain close to each other.

“So do you want to come to Montreal?”

The light flickers as Ilya takes a breath before shooting free smoke around them. The stench is a lot, but it drags against the remaining scent of slick and hotel sheets. The patch itches on Shane’s neck and glimmers on Ilya’s. “Yes.” The Alpha breathes out with his cigarette.

“I just bought a new apartment and am getting it remodeled.”

“What about…” Ilya flicks his wrist.

“The bedroom and bathroom are done, and I planned to spend the summer out at my parents at their cottage.”

“That is nice.”

Shane rubs his nose. “So like I’m half packed from my old apartment.”

Ilya’s sharp blue eyes flicker over him only covered by the sheets. “We have bed?”

“Well yeah.” The dull hotel portrait glares over at them.

“Okay, so all fine.”

Shane wipes his face.

“And I can help pack.”

“Right?” The eyebrow shoots up with a snort. Ilya probably just hires someone to do that not pack himself.

Ilya puts out his cigarette and rolls onto Hollander’s lap. “And fuck you on boxes.”

Part of Shane wants to purr at that but the other is tugged away due to the germs and just the idea of the uneven and filthy surface. His hand weaves in the Alpha’s hair. “That’s so unsanitary.”

Ilya grins staring at Shane’s lips. “It will be fun.”

“And it would be distracting.” From packing that is, Shane thinks.

Ilya plays with Shane’s leg with his hand tucked beneath the sheets. “Just two days.”

The remaining smoke itches Shane. He adjusts, not pulling away from Ilya, but moving. “What if people see us?” Why did he say that out loud?

“So we are friends?” The Alpha sounds so casual.

Shane groans. That isn’t an answer. The curtains blow from the shift in air-conditioning shimmering in the lights.

“We do not have to leave apartment. I can wear wig.”

Shane laughs.

“You want to see me in wig.”

“If it’s pink.” Because thinking of the Alpha in a crazy long pink wig cracks Shane up.

“That is not…” Ilya kisses on Shane’s belly.

“Discreet.”

“Yes, discreet. But it would be funny. I could keep the photo just in case.”

Ilya squints. “Is this a, yes?”

“Yes, you can visit.”

Ilya chases his lips because he’s ready to go a second round. “Can I fuck you?”

“What?” They’ve already had sex tonight. Sure, they haven’t fucked before, and they haven’t talked about it. But here it was. Did he want to be fucked by Ilya?

“I could suck your hole all day, but I want to fuck you so badly too.”

“Not here.”

“At apartment.”

Shane has a thousand thoughts, but he really does want to be close.

“We do not have to.”

“No, no, I want to.”

“Then, yes?”

“Yes,” Shane says before falling into Ilya’s kisses as Ilya removes the sheet from Shane’s lap. He slowly starts working at Shane’s hole again causing the cocklet to rise.

“How many times have you cum in an hour?”

Shane’s face twists.

Ilya peppers kisses. “Hmmm.”

“Twice, maybe.”

“If I make you cum three times, would you be happy?”

Shane gasps.

Ilya smirks. “Does this feel good?”

Shane’s head bobs as the first finger slips into his hole. The juicy slide free eager to please and cry for more.

“Is this good?” Rozanov kisses on the omega’s jaw.

“Yes.”

Shane is being pulled by all sorts of senses as Ilya rubs his thumb on the outer rim before hooking his finger into the soft flesh to gently togue. Shane groans free. His feet twist in the sheets. Ilya gently sucks on the omega’s ear. The Alpha’s cock rises up causing the pheromones to slip free and sweep over Shane. Their sweaty scents are trying to muses together.

“Ah.”

Ilya pauses his hand for a moment. “Hollander, is this good?”

“Don’t stop.” The omega’s hands dig into the flesh of the Alpha’s arm. Shane needs more. He needs to feel, to pray upon the dancing nerves, to find the glory in their bodies together. “Don’t stop.”

“I will not,” Ilya continues to fuck in and out of Hollander’s hole with his finger and rub his other digits around the rim. Then he slips a second in. Shane’s body arches. Heaven with the sucking air as his ribs rock against the Alpha’s other hand grasp his side.

“Rozanov.” Is all that Shane can force from his lips.

“Is good?”

Shane knows what would make it good. “Fuck, fuck, move, come on, move.”

“Yes.” Ilya continues to kiss while his fingers move. Then a third.

The air curls again with the omega’s body. “Fuck.”

“Is too much?”

“No, no, perfect,” that sounds amazing as Ilya tastes his lips.

Then the omega squirts. It bathes the Alpha’s fingers. The cockle coats Ilya’s legs as well as the omega’s. The breathing and panting and warmth as his fingers are sticky with heavenly goodness. Perfection.

“I give you break. Then…” Ilya kisses him. “One more time. Yes.”

“I can’t,” the omega sighs, but Ilya will ask again in a few minutes just in case he’s changed his mind. And Shane has.

When Rozanov flying out, he does have to go to Boston first. This is partially because at least from what he told Shane, is going to finish packing. Also, the alpha won’t fly out of Canada because that will be suspicious. However, he will fly to Canada early in the morning, be with Shane all day, then night, then all next day, which makes Shane shiver. The thought of that time together that things hadn’t been ruined this season. They were still something, not boyfriends or anything. They can’t be. But they are something.

When the buzz comes, Shane quickly presses the button to let Ilya in. They decided it was best for Shane not to pick him up, but Shane barely lets Ilya knock on the door before flinging it open.

They fall into the apartment before kissing as the door rings shut.

They are both eager to fuck obviously. Shane moves away tugging off his shirt and folding it as he walks. Ilya kicks off his shoes before following Shane towards the stairs. The shirt tugs between their bodies and the smush to have another kissing match. Ilya’s hand’s rub on the bear chest. Shane sucks air. Heavenly voice before they are swirling their bodies and tugging each other further up.

When they enter the bedroom, Shane sighs before pulling away and nicely taking off his pants and starting to fold them.

The smile is enough to have Shane sigh before tipping his head. “What?” What was Ilya smiling about.

“You are cute.”

Shane huffs before peeling of his socks and tucking them together. Ilya’s arms wrap around him warmly with a heavenly squeeze.

“You are very cute.”

“You said that?”

Ilya’s hands worm at the boxers. His bear chest evenly matches the ridges on Shane’s spine.

Shane’s head stutters.

“You need to know,” the Russian accent is like washing his brain of every other thought but that he wants this alpha to lay him down and fuck him through. Shane let’s Ilya tug his boxers down, but he slips them from the Alpha’s hand. Looking right at him, Shane folds the boxers. Ilya watches his hands and also his cock. As soon as the boxers are on the dresser, Shane is pushed down. “Now I fuck you, yes?” The kisses pepper Shane’s check.

“Yes,” Shane gasps free trying to turn to get a kiss on the Alpha’s jaw as well. He tries to put away the thought that he’s wanted this even before Ilya mentioned it.

The Alpha rises up partially and keeps attacking the omega. His fingers tease his hole.

The supplies, shit. “Wait.”

The Alpha pulls back with a puzzled look in the flashing blue eyes. Shane rolls over, opens the drawer, and takes out a condom and lube.

“Here.”

The Alpha grins before slipping them free. “You are very excited.”

Shane just squints. “We don’t have…”

“I want to.” The Alpha is almost whining. “Don’t you?” his voice has turned rough and more pulled back.

“Yes, very much.” Shane slowly kisses him. The Alpha draws them closer making their cocks rub. His is massive, how it will fit is beyond Shane, and Shane’s smaller omega cockle that is weeping already like a flower in the rain.

The warm fingers trail down his stomach and start rubbing his thighs. His hole understands it’s job and starts to produce liquid to leak free between his legs. Everything in his mind cries out as the first finger starts rubbing.

“Good yes,” the alpha asks.

“Yes.” Shane pants. “Hurry up.” Because he might cum before even getting to experience the delight.

Rozanov just hums before slipping a finger in. “Patience.”

“Fuck.” Shane arches off the bed for a moment as the alpha’s thumb rubs back and forth.

Rozanov kisses at his stomach before slipping another finger in. “So ready. Is good?”

“Fucking good,” Shane’s jaw trembles. The groan is inhumane as it comes from his lips.

The kisses are now on his cock.

“Too much.”

“Stop.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Sweat sprouts on his forehead and starts to creep on his spine against the thick sheets beneath him. His hands wrap around as the tongue starts sliding along with the third finger into his crying hole.

“Ilya.”

The Alpha glances up and gasps dragging his free hand away from Shane’s leg to his own cock. “Shane,” he moans divinely.

The fingers tug. Methodic. In beat. Shane’s eyes are rolling then they are freeing. The condom wrapper tugs.

“Good?”

“Hurry,” Shane needs the tension again. He needs the rubbing and his hole to be filled by the Alpha.

Ilya sheathes his cock in the rubber and then leans forward kissing.

The whine was meant to be held in. It breaks just like the nerves and muscles in his body.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes,” flicks out before the cock is rubbing with a hand.

It breaches. The burn for a moment is enough for a grasp before the fingers are rubbing. It is met with a stream of slick forming within Shane's body for the Alpha. 

“Are you okay?”

“A lot,” Shane pants.

“I will be slow.” Ilya stills before pushing a bit more. “I stop when you tell.”

Shane rolls his head.

“Look at me.”

His head shuffles and he flicks his eyes to body stretching over him and slowly moving forwards with tight lips and a pant. Those blue eyes sharply asses him.

“So pretty for me.”

“For you,” Shane barely croaks free, just like the Alpha is gorgeous above him. The slick continues to grow. 

Ilya moves a bit more. “Good.”

It’s truly delighting his senses. It is crying out for the pheromones to drag over them in passion. His body slicks. It shakes. The cock creeps forward. Then they are fully together. He’s in him.

“Okay.”

“Full,” because that is the best way to describe.

The Alpha leans forward and then kisses the omega. “I move, okay?”

“Okay.”

Then the alpha moves back slowly then slides a bit then moves back and then slips forward. Something delightful shots between his legs. It is everything. Their bodies pant. 

“Good?”

“Yes. Keep,” Shane’s hands claw into the Alpha’s arm. “Keep…ah…Ilya.”

“Shane.”

Their bodies move in rhyme. It is heaven as they both climax together.

Chapter 20: Ilya - They are all Idiots

Chapter Summary

Ilya hates that the league is not valuing Shane and other players. He also hates having to leave Shane behind and go to Russia.

Chapter Notes

This is literally less than 1000 words. Don't worry the next chapter will be longer.

Thanks for all the love and comments and stuff. You guys are so sweet. I hope you lovelies keep enjoying this fic as well as all the other amazing stuff being posted on AO3. I have been reading so well lately!!!!!

They are hanging out at the bar eating tuna melts and chips and ginger ale and some salad that. Shane had bought tuna, and Ilya had made the tuna melts while Shane made the healthy salad. Ilya plays with his phone as they warm up. The group chat is buzzing with different topics. This one isn’t he main one, but instead a side chat with the several members who are closer like Marlow, Isla, Stephen, and Connors.

Marlow is talking about new signings of several omegas. The guy’s tone has improved over the year. Maybe that’s because Isla doesn’t take shit, but also, he seems to be interested in being educate and can see that the omegas are just as good as the other players. This acceptance seems to be enough to bring him on the team and watch his words. He’s coachable and is interested in learning. For a big guy, he’s a softy, which maybe the same can be said for Ilya who is only like two inches shorter.

Ilya tucks his phone away. “Are you ready for next season?”

Shane shrugs.

That isn’t exactly what Ilya expected, so he pushes deeper because Shane should be having a good time and feel prepared because he roared last season. “Is it still bad in locker room?”

“Well, I might not play.”

Ilya’s mind stutters, and he has to scramble for any English words so that he can talk to Shane. “What? What do you mean?”

“I’m a free agent. My contract is up in like a month. I don’t know if I will get another one.”

“They have not told you?” Ilya is fully looking at his face.

Shane glances away.

“Why did you not tell me?”

Shane shrugs.

This is horrible. What is Montreal doing? They are asses and complete fuck ups and want their team to fail if they let Shane sign with another team. It would be amazing for another team, but Montreal was…in the English phrase shooting themselves in the foot if they let Shane float away. “They do not do this unless they get ride of. I talk to Boston. You come…”

“I don’t want to move to Boston.”

Ilya freezes. Is it because Ilya doesn’t text enough or maybe because Boston players have said things before? The coach had been horrible, but they didn’t have him anymore.

“And it will look like favoritism.”

“Boston win ‘nother cup and with you and me on it.” Ilya gestures. They might get one without Shane, but he figured that would be too far.

“I don’t know about that.” Shane looks so sad. That’s not right.

“You are great fucking player.”

Shane now blushes.

“And Montreal is stupid.”

“I mean Rory and the other omegas have either just announced renewal or still haven’t.”

Ilya stands up. “All these teams are stupid.”

“It’s politics.”

Ilya glares. “I will get new lawyer for us. We will sue their asses.”

“You can’t sue them for not renewing.”

“They have no cause. You are fucking great.”

Shane sighs. “It was only for one season.”

“Someone will sign you if they don’t. You have shown fucking greatness. You almost best player.”

Shane rolls his eyes.

“You will see. Montreal is idiots.”

“A few are interested but some aren’t sure they have a place for me.”

“If no one see that you can playing fucking great, almost great as me, they are dumb asses.” Ilya’s heart is sky rocketing.

“Can we not talk about it.”

Ilya’s face ticks because this is terrible. He’s only gotten one season with Shane and what the fuck is going on that causes these teams to not realize how great Shane was as a player. Why were they using his secondary gender as a way to push off a great player? Were they so bullheaded?

“Do you think Boston will win another cup?”

“Yes, we are fucking good.”

This makes Shane smile.

They watch some tv. Then they have sex again before showering and going to bed. Ilya holds onto Shane. The next morning. They suck each other off before ordering in breakfast. Ilya sits on the floor helping to pack up Shane’s hockey books. He mocks the titles which make Shane’s face get that frustrated scrunch. Apparently, Shane’s parents are going to help him put them in storage and then movers are going to take the bookshelves and couch and a few other things wrapped into the new apartment building.

Ilya intently takes in Shane and looks at the pictures and vision for what changes will be made, all planned out neatly. It’s going to be a fucking nice apartment.

Shane goes and picks them up some food before they have their last final fucking. Ilya tries to slathering himself in Shane’s scent like a prayer because this is the last time. He wipes up.

“You should shower.”

“I will in Boston.”

“Planes are filthy,” Shane whispers before kissing again.

“Yes.” And he will because Svetlana will smell Shane on him. He has to get through customs. Calling the cab, he picks up everything but a sweatshirt that he leaves tucked with the boxes.

“We will talk more?” Shane sits on the edge of his couch cushion.

“Okay.”

“It is good thing to talk more.”

“I know.” Shane forces a smile. “And I like being your friend with benefits.”

“Very good benefits.” He’s smirk slaps on his face.

“Maybe we can talk when you get back from Russia.”

“Or in Russia maybe?”

“Is it safe?”

“I will be careful.”

“Ilya.”

The alpha stops.

“Sorry,” Shane whispers.

Ilya kisses him before walking backwards. “Bye Shane.”

“Bye,” Shane whispers holding onto the door. Ilya forces himself to look away from his omega. Shit. Ilya shakes his head. Friends with benefits not his omega, not his omega, but his Alpha isn’t believing him.

Chapter 21: Shane - Playing the Game

Chapter Summary

Shane faces his second season.

Chapter Notes

Thank you for continuing to share the love and support for this fic. It may be a few days before I get another chapter out, but I do love this chapter and hope you feel the same.

The coach’s office is pristine with piles of papers and the computer set to the side, but the coach still messes with the edge of the papers. “We have agreed to sign you one more year.”

Shane tries not flinch because maybe he’d expected more after his scoring success as well as the promise of more money than a ten percent raise, which he can’t complain about, but maybe he thought it’d be more. Yet it is way too late to start job hunting. It’s more than he had when he was with the Stars, and at least, he’s not scrambling to try and find a team to pick him up. Of course, the man waits until after Las Vegas to guarantee his spot. There is enough of a buzz about him even if he didn’t win a stupid trophy and was considered disqualified for all of them to be in the running. Which felt like shit, but he just had to smile in all the interviews when they brought that up. Enough of a buzz, and the media was still commenting over whether or not he should have been at least selected as one of the three finalists for Rookie of the Year or for perhaps sportsmanship because apparently avoiding fights all year doesn’t just get you slapped as being weak.

He could fight, but he didn’t want to give them any reason to throw him under the bus and off the team. It felt like he had everything but his primary gender working against him.

Maybe he had known they didn’t have a contract, but he did buy an apartment, so he had assumed that he’d get a new contract. When it hadn’t come months ago, both him and Farah were shocked. They actually started looking elsewhere, and Shane locked in on getting renovations done because it would be easier to sell a partially or completely done apartment not a half done.

It felt like a dick move. They kept reaching out, and they said things about still making decisions about the rooster. Basically, Farah, his mom, and he have been trying not to panic about it. Others have shown interest but because Montreal won’t make a call, it’s left them unknowing and also others stare at Shane as maybe disposable. And from whispers at Vegas, Shane was not the only one like this.

But now, they are acting like they are gifting him with a contract. That it is amazing. This late though, Shane has to accept it.

It’s the only thing he can really do because of everything else going on.

The training camp is a bit better with Hayden. Jackie is pregnant, but she still invites Shane over. Seeing the twins is super sweat, and they seem to love him.

Turns out, Jackie and Hayden are having a boy, Arthur, they tell him the name before almost everyone else because they want Shane to be his godfather. Shane’s jaw drops.

“Me?”

“Yes you,” Hayden taps his arm. “You are like my best friend.”

“And you are important to our family,” Jackie says. “The girls love you, and even if either of us moved teams, we know that we’d still be this tight.”

Shane can’t help but feel teary eyed. He feels so included. Pike and he share rooms throughout the year as it ticks by.

And as promised, Ilya and he text and call a lot more. They are better about it. There is something trickling between them that shows they are bonding in a way that hasn’t happened before. Maybe it is just friendship, no it is just friendship, Shane shakes it off.

Starting first line is nice this year. It gives them a good start. The team does seem a little more open to passing to him on the ice or giving him assists, which makes it a lot easier. The locker room is still bad. They still give looks and stuff. They still stop talking or make rude comments under their breath towards him. On the ice though, that’s what matters, Shane tells himself. He still has his parents coming out to games and in his apartment. He hangs with Naomi and the Montreal Stars players at least once a month if not more. And then he has Pike and Jackie and that family who make sure that if something is at their house, Shane is invited as a way to try and bring him into the hockey family.

Finally, he has Ilya too.

After another win and a late night getting home, he eats, gets ready for bed, and then tucks himself into bed. He plugs his phone in but after a few minutes it buzzes. Then buzzes again. And then keeps going off.

What in the hell?

Was Jackie in labor early? It would be way too early for the baby, right?

Shane rolls on his stomach as he blinks at his phone. It’s 12:38, and Ilya has sent a string of texts and a dumb little picture.

Ilya

Did you see that win?

Three in the net

I’m amazing

I send you clip

Video link

Followed by a picture of Ilya in bed

Amazing right?

You probably in bed

I should stop texting

I just wanted to hear your voice

Shane

Are you drunk?

You are up?

Amazing

Call?

You didn’t answer my question

Dumb question

You are drunk

Team celebration

We win

We party

Have fun.

But you know nothing about that.

I’m going back to bed

Now we have to facetime

I need to see your hair all messy

I love your hair all messy

Why do you keep it so short?

Shane rolls his eyes. This dude knew nothing about the stigmas around hair and issues and the man is drunk. Part of Shane wants to hear the accent and thrown in Russian words of a drunk Ilya.

He clicks the facetime button.

Ilya answers during the first ring. Desperate…maybe worse than Shane then.

The Russian Alpha grins on the other end with his blonde hair tumbling and smile dimpling and check’s rosy from whatever liquor he’d been downing.

“You are so pretty.”

“What do you want?”

“Are you tired?”

“It’s past midnight,” but Shane does glance at the clock to confirm that information before saying it out loud.

“I can go.”

Shane sighs. “Are you okay?”

“I want to see you.”

Shane sighs messing with his hair that sprays into his face.

“You are probably all sexy in nice….”

“Pajamas.”

“Yes, that,” slurs out. Then there is a line of Russian, which sounds a bit adorable, okay very adorable.

“Are you sure you are, okay?” because there has be a reason that Ilya is calling him so messed up.

“Do you want phone sex?”

Shane’s brain stutters listening for a moment to Ilya grunt. Then he catches up enough to wipe his face and mutter, “Not when you are drunk.”

“But you are down?”

Shane can’t help but huff a laugh.

“Hmmm, you be sexy. All laid out. Touching yourself.” Then there is another string of Russian.

“Ilya.”

“I know, friends.” It sounds so pitiful like Shane stole his favorite candy.

“We can’t be more.”

“I know.”

“I like, hmmm, you are a friend.”

“Yes, good friend.” Ilya moves around on the other side making the connection whistle. “I cannot go back to Russia if they knew.”

“Exactly.”

“I want you to play for Boston.”

Shane has to laugh. “That’s not a good idea.” That isn’t just because of their romance but because he’d move away and that really the states was a lot worse for omegas compared to Canada.

“But you would be here. We could be best friends.”

“Don’t you have friends? I see pictures with you and your teammates.”

“We hang yes.”

Was Ilya lonely? Shane rolls to his side. “But they aren’t friends?”

“They are not like you.”

“Well, I assume you don’t sleep with them.”

“Some of them might let me fuck them.”

“What?” Slips out of Shane. He’s not jealous, he snaps as his own brain.

“Marlow would, I think,” Ilya says.

“Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

That’s a relief. No one can hear Ilya say such wild things.

“You want to fuck.”

“We are not having phone sex.”

There is a moment of quiet before a sniffle comes over.

“Are you crying?”

“No. I did not mean to ask twice. I want to have…what is word…want yes…not…”

“Permission. Consent.”

“Yes, consent. Very important.”

“Yes, it is,” Shane rolls on his side. “Have you had water?”

The disgusted sigh slugs through the phone. “You are not my mother.”

“I am your friend who doesn’t want you having a nasty headache tomorrow.”

“You want me to get water?”

“Go get water.”

The Russian mutters but then a ping comes through. It is a selfie of a dazed Rozanov drinking water.

“Happy,” slips across the line from Rozanov.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“You need to sleep.”

“Not tired.” It’s a whine that makes Shane stretch his legs. “I am not,” the Russian justifies with slurred accent.

“I am.”

“Okay.”

“Are you okay with me getting off?”

“You need it.”

“I don’t have to if you need me.”

“I will be okay.”

“Are you sure?” Shane messes with his lip because Ilya doesn’t sound like he normally does.

Rozanov sighs. “I have Svetlana.”

“What?”

“She is my friend in Boston.”

“That’s good.” Part of Shane’s heart grips.

“Her father was Russian goalie. Known her since I was…maybe three…I think three.”

“That’s good that you have her.”

“She will talk Russian with me. Feels like home.”

“Okay.” That’s something Shane can’t give him.

“We have fucked before. Not in like year, but we did sometimes. There is word, you used…”

“Friends with benefits.”

“Yes, but nothing more. She is just good friend. Not like you. I like you…” Then there is a string of Russian.

Part of Shane wants to call out to the Alpha with the first name, but instead, he stills himself. “Rozanov, you are drunk.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Drink some more water.”

There is nothing.

“Goodnight Ilya.”

“Goodnight Shane.”

And Shane forces himself to hang up. It takes almost an hour for him to stop thinking enough to fall asleep.

Shane tries not to think too much about the phone call and texts last night where he didn’t tell Ilya truly how he felt about hockey and the team. This is his dream. He should be on top of the world.

He gets pucks in the net like crazy. He’s getting more time on the ice compared to last year, but they are jabbing at him. People making whispered comments that he’s using his sneaking fucking omega pheromones to get his way even though the scent patch remains glued to his neck unlike many of his teammates who let their pheromones flare into his cheeks.

The pep talk in his head is going terrible. He has this.

Naomi even reminds him with her jabbing text.

Naomi

GAME MVP

LOOK AT U AND ME!!!!!

Or texts like.

Naomi

ugh they are so jealoussssss of u

look at thm

luck!??!?!

THEY DREAM

It’s good that someone notices enough to smear at them and makes Shane laugh when he wants to cry and shout at the reports but has to stand there with his PR face and groomed words. Ilya has his own remarks, but those include a lot more curse words. His mom also has her sharp remarks, and his dad asks are you okay? with all the love in the world. Farah huffs about sexism and omegaphobia and that is often weaved into their training as well as personal conversations.

In the end, this is his dream. He has to make strides to get it to work and get things to settle down. It’s the second-year omegas are playing in the NHL, and it’ll get better. They signed on five more omegas, one of which was a second-year player who had been in juniors as one of the top players. That’s fucking amazing to see that more teams were open to it.

Ottawa Centaurs had signed on Devon LaPointe who was the second-year player in the omega leagues for Toronto specifically. He had a lot of potential. He was around Shane’s height and seemed to be a very good defensemen as he’s fast on his feet and a very strong skater. He was probably five eleven and very stocky compared to Shane which tends to be more a slimmer build.

Most likely by next year he’d be first line next year partially because Ottawa was shit. Part of Shane felt bad for LaPointe, but he is playing and maybe with a few trades or even a different coach and maybe even drafts it could get better for Ottawa. Still, none of the major players had picked up an omega. Chicago, Boston, Florida, and so forth were not bringing on Omegas. It was the teams that didn’t make the playoffs that added omegas to the rooster. Which to be honest had worked for the other teams.  

Here Shane was though on another season.

Fucking Ilya had maybe change things. They did it again in his apartment when Boston and Montreal played in Montreal. Shane actually talked his parents into coming next week to a game rather than the Boston game. It’s not that he wanted it to happen again, but yeah, he did want it to happen again.

When he hung with Naomi for brunch before heading into prep for their game the following week against North Carolina, Naomi stares at him. “What is different?”

“What?”

“You,” she gestures. “Something happened. Spill.”

Shane goes red even though he tries to tug it in.

“Okay, now I really know.”

“It’s nothing,” he hisses.

“It’s so something.”

Shane rolls his eyes.

“Come on.” Naomi pounds the table making a few people look.

“Stop it,” he’s begging.

“Tell me.” She leans closer. “Did you get laid?” she squints.

The color rises again.

“No fucking way,” she hisses.

“Details.”

“We are in public.”

“You should have texted me immediately. No forget that, called. You should have called me.”

“I was not going to call you.”

She rolls her eyes. “One-time thing or…”

“I mean…” ugh can he stop blushing for one second.

“It isn’t,” she squeals.

“We are in public,” Shane hisses.

Naomi rolls her eyes. “Fine big deal. You are telling me later.”

Shane shakes his head but as soon as they leave and are in the car (since of course they carpooled and now he’s trapped).

“So?” Naomi wiggles her eyebrows.

“It was just like…it’s just like…it’s…”

“Oh spit it out.”

“I have hooked up with an…Alpha a few times.”

“Alpha?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

“And she’s…”

“We aren’t serious,” Shane decides to avoid any use of pronouns at the moment.

“That’s understandable.”

“Exactly,” Shane says.

“Hot?”

Shane squirms again.

“She is.”

“It can’t be anything.”

“You are falling for her.” She slaps him.

Shane feels the pit drop from his stomach because she isn’t wrong.

As the season goes along, Shane locks in more. He has to do great things. He has to prove himself. The line feels more in sync and Boston has an injury early on which isn’t looking great for them since the guy might be out all season which cuts off their initial first line that had won the cup last year.

Montreal is looking great so far. Pike is having him over more, which is nice. And then with Jackie pregnant again, Shane brings over things to try and support her and Pike and maybe even entertain the twins. Calls become a lot more regular thing for Shane and Ilya. It’s like them prancing, but it never goes full to sex. It nudges the idea but it never blasts it and neither seem to cross the line.

JJ is much more open to him. He hangs with the Star players still including Naomi ribbing him, but he thankfully doesn’t have to hide that he really truly hasn’t seen his hook up.

Then they play Boston.

He gets to spend time with Ilya who talks about a piece of property he bought to build a house. Shane listens and shows pictures of his own new apartment. They fuck once and then they do hands stuff, but both are great.

Montreal beats Boston which also tastes amazing.

His parents come to a lot of his home games. They hang out. They eat. His mom talks about a lot of the deals he is getting and just is thrilled for him. His dad is super supportive as always and starts talking about someone who plans on selling their cottage in the next year. Shane would love to buy something on the lake near his parents, but he doesn’t have that kind of money yet.

As the year creeps along with Montreal fully going to the playoffs, he gets a message that he’s going to be included in the All-Star voting. Close after is that is from the Montreal Voyagers who have asked him to pull his name to allow others.

Shane ignores the email and doesn’t pull his name from the All-Star game.

When he goes to the game, Ilya and he are paired up for an interview because of course the media and internet want to see them together.

After a few questions about his gender, they move on.

“You have forty-six goals so far this season.”

“Yes.”

Shane wants to roll his eyes so badly.

“Shane.”

Shane focuses in on the female reporter speaking.

“How do you feel now having thirty-nine goals this year after making over fifty goals last season?”

Shane blinks nodding his head.

“Do you feel like you will continue to have such an amazing season?”

“I can’t predict the end of the season, but I would hope so.”

Rozanov huffs.

Ignore him.

“How do you feel about the league facing you and Hollander against each other?”

“Good. Hollander fun competition to beat.”

The room laughs a bit. The guy is an asshole especially if a camera is in front of him.

“Rozanov, do you believe that you will beat Shane Hollander’s number of goals this season?”

“Yes,” there is not pause.

“Shane Hollander, you have had a very good season. What do you say to people still critical of having an omega in the league?”

Ilya now sits up beside him, but Hollander keeps his eyes ahead at the cameras and media. “You just noted that I am currently ahead of Rozanov in goals. I think that’s a pretty good sign that the league was wrong for keeping us out. Rori Gustine has had a really good season bringing the Cougars very far as have others that drafted omegas into the league.”

“Rozanov, what is your thoughts on having omegas like Hollander in the league?”

“It is good, yes, like Hollander says.”

The media room takes that well.

“Hollander, what do you think of people saying that you have ruined omega sports but opening the window for Alphas to try and join omega hockey leagues.”

The sweat puckers in his armpits. “I believe in the importance of sports for everyone. People involved are having conversations about what the future of sprots looks like for everyone. I want to encourage to love hockey just like I love it, and I believe that with all the conversations happen that I hopeful that there will be a healthy situation created for everyone.”

“People are saying that it will be more difficult for omegas to play sports professional now?”

The murmurs burn.

“You are wrong.” His throat is stale. Rozanov’s shoe bumps his as he stares down the report. “Many people,” Shane forces his voice to be even just like he’s been trained to do. “Have reached out noting how much I am encouraging their child, grandchild, niece, or even themselves to pursue sports like hockey in a way they had never before meaning that omegas in sports are not going anywhere. It’s growing actually.”

“Mr. Rozanov, do you think Hollander and other omegas being in the sports like hockey?”

Ugh, that is basically the same question cycles and shoved at him and Rozanov. Why is always the same?

“Good, like he say.”

This is another chuckle. Shane had to tip his chin down not to smile.

Chapter 22: Ilya - What are we?

Chapter Summary

Ilya deals with his growing feels for Shane.

Chapter Notes

Yes, an update!!! Hope you enjoy it. Thanks for the continued love and comments.

WARNING: One sex scene towards the beginning and one at the end.

Stay safe lovelies. I'll get you another chapter sometime over this weekend.

Seeing Shane at the All-Star game was amazing as well as facing off each other. Rory making it as well and being on Shane’s team was cool too. They are both very loved by the fans and are supported enough to be voted onto the team, and it appears that the NHL or teams did not tell them to pull their names. Having the interview is nice because Shane helps out with questions but also is just there with him. Sure the media were douches, but Shane knew how to handle himself.

Maybe a little intoxicating to watch.

Shane shows up on the ice and beats both Scott and Ilya in the accuracy by breaking the record. Ilya skates by and says his room number. There is a look from Scott but Ilya ignores it. Shane sneaks in and immediately attacks Rozanov.

It’s heaven. They don’t fuck, but they do suck each other off, and Ilya plays with the omega’s hole. It’s nice being together. They chat for a bit until Shane has to sneak away. They get to see each other in two weeks, which is nice because Ilya will get to fuck him.

The North American team wins over the European team which Ilya is on. He can’t be too mad about it because Shane looks so happy even with Scott Hunter as his captain.

Ilya can’t seem to settle the itch until he’s on the plane to see Shane and play Montreal. Montreal wins again. Ilya knows that Boston is going to the playoffs, but Montreal might win the cup this year, and Svetlana thinks so partially because Boston has had so many injuries, Hunter has dropped off mid-season again, and right now the West doesn’t seem to have enough competition to beat out Montreal.

Then Ilya sneaks away from the party, takes a cab up the block, and walks behind Shane’s apartment so that he can come through the back door. This is the right apartment?

Once he shoots the text that’s he’s here, the door flicks open. Shane Hollander is there.

“You will murder me,” slips out staring at the darkness coming out of the small apartment building.

“Maybe. Get in here,” Shane says before Ilya walks in and the door rings behind them.

Ilya steps in before kissing Shane.

“Not here.”

Ilya moves back staring down before flicking.

“Stop it.” Shane starts walking up the stairs.

“What? I want to see apartment too.”

He moves up the stairs, and shoves a little bit as he picks up the pace. They are full sprinting up the stairs. They are a little flushed when they reach Shane’s apartment side by side. Ilya winks. “You first.”

Shane mouths something that sounds like it has ‘asshole’ with it before slipping into the apartment. It’s nice. The window basks over the skyline. There is woven staircase to the upper floor. Ilya places his hands on his hip before rolling his next to the side. “Is very nice?”

“Thanks.” Hollander leans on the counter while Ilya leans on the table. Then Shane starts rattling about the apartment and that he just bought the one next door.

“Mr. Landlord. Mr. Real Estate.”

“Fuck off.”    

“I did not ask.”

“Oh.” The omega shuts down.

“Keep talking.”

The face scrunches.”

“But is nice. You are wise with money. Tell me.” His hands are rubbing at the omega’s hip.

Shane shrugs and moves back assessing Ilya.

The Alpha takes the sign to tip away and lean on the back of the chair. “Very careful. Not buying nice car.”

“I have a JEEP.”

“New?”

“Fuck off.” But the omega moves towards him. They are close. Close enough for Ilya to just lean forward.

Ilya kisses him.

Shane sighs.

“You smell very nice.”

“I didn’t put anything on,” Shane whispers.

Ilya’s eyes dilate. Shane didn’t wear a patch or spray or anything. That was not the scent of the house, well it was, but it was also Shane. Pure omega before him.

Then he picks rubs a hand up Shane’s hoodie. The omega stutters.

“You have bed?”

Shane starts to drag Ilya towards the stairs. They wrap in kisses. Ilya loses his shirt. They twist. Once they are upstairs. Ilya throws off his pants. He turns to find Hollander folding his hoodie. He cocks his head watching as the shirt gets folded. As Hollander jerks down his pants, his eyes flinch. “What?” He asks.

“You are cute.”

Shane goes pink. The stretch marks on his thigh that are amazing. They are darling to the eye as the catch the light before the boxers slip down and are thrown at him which are the opposite of the folded pile on the dresser.

Ilya kisses and lifts up the omega. He peppers the beauty of the man before him before plopping him on the bed. He bounces with an ump before Ilya attacks him again kissing a trail down the body.

“Is good?”

“Yes,” Hollander breathes free.

“Good,” he keeps kissing down the body.

“Condems,” Shane rises up.

“You want me to fuck you?”

“Please. In the drawer.”

Ilya rolls to the side grab for the drawer. The smirk burns as he snaps free the long line.

“Stop it.”

“What?”

Shane’s eyes are locked on the condoms.

“You think enough?”

“We fuck a lot.”

“We do.” Ilya sets them on the bed beside them as he keeps attacking the omega while his fingers wander to the hole which is starting to wet from the arousal between them. “Hmm, you want to get fingered?”

“Please.”

Ilya slips the first in while massaging in the rim with his thumb and the side of his other fingers. “You smell so good.” He kisses the glands.

The omega arches gasping. Ilya grabs with his other hand the patch and rips it away tossing it to the dresser. It skitters to the edge.

“Is okay?”

“Ilya, you smell…”

They had scented each other before but often they kept on patches or put some sort of scent neutralizer from having to travel with team and play. It was better to not have Alpha pheromones running ramped.

But now, their scents wrap. They warm against each other like blankets. They muse. They go well with Ilya’s been wooded, smokey, and a bit evergreen and maybe cinnamon while Shane’s had sweetness with maybe a salty breath and its own woody huff as well as maybe a sweet undertone of fruit, maybe cranberry but that didn’t feel fully right. It’s lovely wrapping into each other.

“Ilya.”

He’s been too distracted trying to drink in the scent. “You, okay?”

“You smell so good.” The eyes are even more blown out.

Ilya chases the kisses adding another finger slowly working down the neck feeling the arch rub their nipples on each other. Then his lips find it while his free hand rubs on the scent glands on the neck finding his wrist scent to match before Shane’s face mashes into his wrist.

A third finger, “You, okay?”

“Yes.” The panting lips quiver before the kisses and sucking is trying to pull his scent into Shane’s mouth from his wrist. When Ilya pulls away, Shane whimpers.

“I know,” Ilya kisses as he removes his fingers and rips free the condom. “One second.”

“One,” Shane breathes out.

“Who is asshole now,” Ilya laughs before kissing and then returning the wrist. “Are you okay?”

“I need…I need you,” Shane begs.

Ilya lines up and slowly pushes into Shane who is ready for him.

Shane sucks against the wrist while Ilya fully sits into the omega’s dripping hole that has been made ready for him. They fit together in slowly moments.

“How does it feel?”

“Don’t stop. It….It…Ilya…Fuck…fuck…fuckkkkkk.”

Ilya keeps moving. Their bodies flush in sweet. The movements sync into rhyme into joy into passion into a climax where they fall together in full pleasure and bliss. Ilya can feel his cock trying to emerge into a knot but the omega isn’t in heat and he isn’t in rut, but it’s the closet he’s ever been. It’s begging. He kisses Shane’s dopey face.

After they clean up, they rest with each other.

“I like your scent,” Shane whispers.

Ilya rubs his wrist against Shane’s sharing their scents. They meld together like heaven. Maybe it’s an icy sweet undertone. He can’t still find where the sweet smell matches to. “I know.”

Shane huffs. “Fuck you.”

“We can do next.”

Shane pushes at Ilya’s head on his chest.

“Your scent is very…is perfect,” Ilya murmurs.

“Perfect,” Shane repeats like it’s a word from heaven.

“You should come to Boston.”

“I am not moving to America,” Shane huffs.

“You should.” Ilya kisses at Shane’s belly before looking back at the far painting on the apartment wall that is very minimalistic.

“They sign you for next year.”

“Yeah, they are actually making up the contract.” Hollander plays with Ilya’s hair. The curls seem to relax in the omegas hand.

“Good.”

“Well, I beat you twice.”

Ilya makes a little sharp noise. “Your team beat me.”

“Pretty sure I out played you.”

“That is lie.”

Shane is grinning.

“We had hurt player. We will win next year.”

“Yeah, right.” The omega says it so lazily like he wants to be snuggled.

Rozanov moves closer. He doesn’t want to ever leave. He hates being torn away.

Montreal is having a good season. They work their way high in the playoffs even though Boston is pushed out. They make it to the final. They could win the cup. Shane could win the cup. His…his what? Shane wasn’t his boyfriend or his omega or much besides someone as a friend and fuck buddy for a short summer vacation or when they happened to be in the same city. Nothing more.

He hates leave. He hates losing the scent. He hates how alone he feels even with his teammates around.

Later, Ilya sits on the couch with Svetlana and several others, and his face beams as he watches Shane lift the cup along with his teammates shouting with him.

Hollander had shown the world that an omega cannot only be on a team that wins the cup but have the most shots on the team winning the cup and standing there in pride.

At the award show, Shane should be on there for MVP, but he isn’t. He is for an award just because he has so many shots that it is impossible to pull him. No other omega has been selected though even though Rory probably deserves to be one of the nominees.

Hollander led his team to win the cup. There is no doubt with his stats that he was at the very top of any shots. Sure, defense and goalie deserve credit, but Shane was making the shots and landing them as well as pulling assists that drove his team to a clear victory in the league.

Rozanov wants to send his head through the wall because yes, he is proud of Hollander, and maybe he shouldn’t have gone back to Russia and maybe he should text Shane more, but he feels like now that they are both on the ice, they don’t talk to each other. And maybe he has shit talked a bit to reporters about Shane but that because Shane deserves all the attention. He does calls and texts occasionally. They talk back, but it feels empty because he’s not holding his omega against his chest, he’s not coated in the scent, it’s distant over the phone.  

He thinks to the times over the few years of knowing Shane. He sends his little texts to Hollander got a short response and nothing more even though Ilya sent a follow up.

He desires to have a cute text from Shane, but there is instead, nothing on his phone.

He can’t be disappointed.

They have fuck and sometimes talk.  

That’s it.

They don’t call each other boyfriend or girlfriend.

Just like the scents or him winning the cup.

Maybe they’ve gone on a date. Okay, it was friends or people getting to know each other dinners and stuff, and maybe Shane had cooked him meals and Ilya had invited him to come to Vegas, but Rozanov doesn’t do relationships. He’s been in tabloids and on social media for hanging with girls and fucking them, and he has his situationships elsewhere.

That’s what this is. It’s a situationship. So why is his brain turning it into something more?

Instead of thinking more on it, he flies Shane in while he has suitcases half packed to go to Russia. His whole body wants to ignore them, but his father is worse and who knows what his brother is doing to help him out.

When he rolls up to pick up Shane from the airport before he goes to Russia, the omega’s in a cute baseball cap, jacket, and sunglasses. Adorable is all that blinks through Ilya’s head before it’s replaced, I want to see him all the time, know all his outfits, always be the one taking off his clothes, pick him up from the airport as much as possible, and take him home…to a join home not this.

His heart twinges. He can’t have that. It’s selfish to even think.

“Get in,” is what he says. He unlocks the side door so that Shane can throw it in before slip into the side seat. The sigh when Shane falls into the seat is enough to make his inner Alpha purr in the comfort. That’s new.

They head towards the apartment.

"You did very good."

"Huh."

"The cup. Kissing it. Very pretty."

"Shut up. Why are bringing that up now?"

"Hmm, you best player on team. They should value you."

"Can we not talk about it?" The omega squirms. 

Ilya shrugs. Maybe he'll bring it up during sex to see how Shane reacts. But for now, he'll leave it. “Need something?”

“No.”

“Just go…home?”

“Yes.” Shane blushes a bit before tucking a leg up.

Ilya can’t get the car home fast enough because he wants to kiss every inch of Shane. The restraint is something that he can be somewhat proud of. As he keeps his hands tucked away until Shane reaches for him, then he breaks a part of him.

When they pull in front of the house, he carries in the omega’s luggage.

“I could do that.”

“Hmm, no.”

Shane huffs before they enter in through the garage. The omega stops and sniffs the air. Good, the scents are perfect and please the omega just right from the look on Shane’s face.

“So, you want to talk.”

Ilya can’t help but smile and then leaning closer. “Talk?”

Shane flicks his look to the Alpha’s lips before back up.

The shiver is enough for Ilya to lean in and kiss him. “You want to talk.” His hand finds its way down the torso to cup his omega in the crotch through the pants.

The gasp and dilating eyes are enough for him to manhandle the omega into the wall.

“Talk.”

“Shut up.”

Ilya winks before picking the omega up and carrying him to the bedroom. The omega squealed a bit.

“You are an asshole,” but the kisses shower upon Ilya.

Shane tips onto the sheets, and Ilya brackets him in continuing to kiss on the smooth cheeks, down the neck before arching so that he can find the base of the shirt to tug it up. Ilya keeps peppering the kiss before taking off his own shirt. Shane tips up. It’s enough for Ilya to help him peel off his to be discarded away. Shane hoovers up to start kissing Ilya. Ilya’s brain misfires while he sucks in air. His hand plants on the omega’s jeans. The button cools his finger tips before it snaps open. Shane keeps hugging as the zipper tugs down, and the Alpha’s hand plants itself amongst into the boxers. Shane stutters. Just right as Ilya’s fingers find the cocklet.

Shane falls back and Ilya leans with him. They both work to get his pants and boxers down enough to expose his privates.

Shane starts working down the Alpha’s. They keep humping at each other. The cock flicks out in Shane’s hand.

They are both rubbing at each other. Desperate.

Everything comes to head, and they spill on each other, more on Shane still below Ilya, but their scents are musing together even more.

Ilya collapses to the side. The pants get caught on the fall down causing a fluttering of limbs. Ilya laughs before scooping up a tissue and wiping up. When Ilya touches the omega, the whine comes out.

“You hard already?”

Shane swats him. Ilya laughs before pulling up his boxers but discarding his sweats. He throws out the tissue and grabs a wash cloth. He runs the water for a moment, getting warm enough water so that he can wipe them both better.

After that is done, he discards it on the hard floor and scoops Shane into his arms.

“I will fuck you later,” he promises.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Instead, they doze for a bit. Ilya is awake before Shane and ends up watching the omega. A thousand thoughts are going through his brain when Shane wakes up.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Shane assesses him before sighing. “What’s wrong?”

Ilya hums because getting words together is tough.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“Just had thought.”

“What?”

“Do you want food?”

“Sure,” Shane laughs.

Ilya makes food. When they are sat down though, that’s when he finally braves the question because maybe now when they are half dressed and aren’t touching, if it goes bad, it won’t hurt as much.

That’s a lie, but Ilya has to ask Shane.

“Do you want…” Ilya plays with the cup.

“Want what?”

Ilya flicks a look to the side before laying his eyes on the sink. “To be my boyfriend?”

Shane freezes.

Why did he say it? Why did he fuck this up? Why would he even think he deserved Shane? “Is bad idea? Sorry.”

“Do you want to?”

Ilya fingers the rim of the cup. “I like you. I do not want to fuck others. Only you.”

“Wow.”

That did sound bad. “I want to be with you more. My father…and Russia…and if they find out, but you do not want anyone to know…we can stay fuck buddies.”

“This does feel like more.”

“Yes.”

“You would want that?” The dark eyes shimmer.

“Yes, very much.”

“I would have to find a way to tell my parents.”

“Yes.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“No, and my father.” Ilya sighs. “He is losing his…mind.”

“Like he’s got a mental illness.”

“Well…yes…it’s…” the word is leaving him.

“Dementia.”

“Yes, but the other…”

“Alzheimer’s?”  

“Yes, I think that right. He may not make it another year. Doctors…he is often in bed…my brother is taking care of him.”

“Well, that’s good at least.”

“My brother…he is asshole, he does not take good care of father. I give money. Most does not help my father.”

Shane goes into his lap and hugs Ilya. “I’m so sorry.” Shane starts kissing is forehead. “I need to go into heat before training camp.”

Ilya sits up.

“I know you’ll be in Russia, but if you come back early….” Shane plays with his lip.

“You asking me to spend heat with you?”

“You don’t have to.”

Ilya devours Shane in kisses.

“Yes.”

Ilya pulls back.

“Boyfriend.”

Ilya may never have to eat again if he has Shane.

Chapter 23: Shane - Heat with an Alpha

Chapter Summary

Ilya arrives to help Shane through his heat.

Chapter Notes

Well, I am back with another chapter. I loved writing a little foreplay in this chapter. I think it turned out cute. I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you for the continued love and support for this fic.

WARNING: sex in the second half of this chapter.

Shane tries not to be nervous as he messes with his nest. He’s on the brink of the heat. It will probably start tonight, but Ilya doesn’t fly in until early tomorrow morning. Sure, he has the old clothes and even the shirt and underwear that Ilya left on his last trip which still smell somewhat of Rozanov. You can’t blame Shane for scenting the clothes making it hard to sniff Rozanov. He needs something to carry with him when they can’t be together, especially since they are officially together. Boyfriends. Soon he’ll be here though, and he can add any other clothes to the nest. He has the bag that his parents sent with him when he left their cottage. The Pikes gave him some clothes as well as Naomi. He has safety here in the nest, but it’s still missing what it really needs.

His nervous energy floods into the kitchen as he messes with the counter before fishing out some chicken and veggies and then some low carb tortillas. He mixes it up and then eats one before putting the rest in the fridge and then wiping the counters twice before trying to rest on the couch with his book. The page blurs. He tries to read it again. He knows nothing said. The third time, he sighs, shoves the bookmark in, and then rests it on the coffee table. His legs itch. After he’s checked the door, windows, and room three times, he brushes his teeth, does his nightly routine with his skincare, and then undresses down to his boxers and crawls into the nest with his softest blanket that his mother bought him as a house warming gift. He plants his head right by Ilya’s old boxers. His pillow smushes behind his head while his lips tremble. While his fingers work down, they slip between the weeping folds. His hand rubs gently while his boxers start to get damp from the leaking. The heat is storming in quickly. There is nothing else she can say in that regard.

His phone buzzes.

Ilya

Landed

Shane

Good flight?

Ilya

No, we crashed.

Shane rolls his eyes. So annoying.

So many ppl waiting of luggage

Machine stay still

Reminds me of you

Shane

Well maybe I don’t let you fuck me

Ilya

Some ppl say you are not funny

Shane

Who says that?

Ilya

Me

Shane groans before flicking back to the text messages because he can’t leave it at that.

Shane

Text me when you are on your way

Ilya

Are you wearing butt plug?

Shane

What?

Ilya

You look pretty with butt plug

Shane

You are texting in public

Ilya

You know I am tall

They cannot see

Shane

You are too confident

Ilya

Are you fingering yourself?

Shane leaves him on read blushing as he stares at his ready nest because yeah, he kind of does want to finger himself because he can feel the edges of his heat slipping in and riddle his mind.

Then he shakes his head to the side. Instead, he goes downstairs to make sure everything is ready in his fridge and freezer for another time (you can’t blame him for checking over and over again). He puts on his podcast that he wants to catch up on. It shares about the new rookies which includes an omega. The male former hockey players all chatter around predictions and teams in the upcoming season. Shane arches his shoulders. He makes sure that he has some knotting condoms downstairs as well before forcing himself to have a protein smoothie while a little bit leaks from his legs.

It's almost like his body knows that his alpha will be there soon.

Ugh.

He washes his drink then turns off his podcast because the alpha voices are just grating him because they aren’t his alpha. He uses the bathroom. He messes with his hair. He picks up his book and immediately puts it down. He fusses at the edge of the nest as if he can improve it. He nearly jumps from his skin when the buzzer rings. He hurries to open it up, and then freezes because he has to wait.

The door rattles with a knock.

Fuck it. Shane flings himself across and opens it. The Alpha steps in while Shane looks over him.

The alpha hums setting his bags down before looking over Shane. The omega can’t take it more. He attacks the alpha, jerking off the scent patch.

“You missed me.”

Shane shoves the Alpha back because he isn’t mind has been fully consumed in the desire.

Ilya winks at him.

Shane steps back. His eyes flick away before staring to the shut door and then to his feet. “I’m not having sex with you yet.” Shane crosses his arms.

“Okay.” Ilya raises his hands.

Shane’s feels the tick of his jaw because he can’t believe he’s doing this. He wants to be crawling all over the alpha but instead, he’s standing off with his arms crossed and a face that feels too much like a grumpy kitten. Ilya shouldn’t have been texting in public like that, and making comments about wearing a butt plug. Shit, he’s going red just by thinking about wearing one.

“How was your summer?”

Shane drags himself away from his alpha into the kitchen with his arms still crosses. Once he fills a glass of water, he glares to Ilya now leaning on the corner wall just staring at him. The need settles right in his lower belly. Just hold it together for a bit. He can do that. He has self-control. Most people aren’t able to be in as control of their diets as him.

“You are very cute.”

“You were sexting me in public.”

“Many do.”

“Sext me?”

“No.” Ilya laughs. “Or should I be very jealous?” The little fake scowl perches on Ilya’s face.

Shane lifts his chin up. “You should be.” And takes another gulp of water.

Ilya’s hand skates the counter. “Hmmm, do you want to fuck one of them instead?”

Shane wants to fall to his knees and say no because there is only Ilya. There has only ever been Ilya, but he’s still got that sizzling fire in his gut that he needs to get out, so his lips move faster than his brain. “Maybe I will.”

“I do not think you will.”

“Yeah.” Shane grabs his phone. Ironically, he flicks to Hayden’s number. Why he doesn’t, he hasn’t a clue but maybe because he knows Hayden dislikes Ilya and the few times Shane has brought up Hayden, Ilya complains. “I could.”

Ilya walks closer.

Shane tips the phone away.

“Give.”

Shane shakes his head.

“You are mine.” There is something in the tone that warms up Shane. “Give phone.”

Shane can’t believe it, but he hands it over.

“Hayden,” and then a string of Russian follows. The phone clinks on the counter shut. “You want to call Hayden? You think that wimp of a player would fuck you better?”

Shane feels the sweat pucker. His folds are warming in slick from the tendrils of heat and the alpha pheromones bubbling from Ilya who stares down at him.

“Would you rather have Hayden pin you down and fuck you?”

His mind blares that never. He would never want that. First, ew, disgusting. Second, he loves Jackie maybe more than Hayden. Finally, Hayden is just a friend, and he opened it to irritate Ilya, which had worked. He wanted to make him mad just like Ilya trying to be snarky over the phone while not being here to follow through and Shane what he desired. No Shane had to wait, so should Ilya. Ilya should feel what he did. Shane gasps.

Ilya has grabbed him. The lift on the counter causes Shane to death grip onto the Alpha’s muscled arms. “I can call him. Tell him Shane needs him, and he can fly here, and I can leave.”

Shane wraps his legs around Ilya to keep him close.

“I can leave.” There is something sharp but also begging to not be told that.

“I only want you,” croaks from his lips.

Ilya has to tip up just a little bit to kiss Shane. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Shane chases the lips fleeting away. A hand snakes up the omega’s shirt.

“Say you only want me.”

Shane has to crane his head back as the hand wraps back towards his kidneys. “I only want you, Alpha.”

The soft growl filters through. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“Fuck me, alpha.” A hand has weaved to his crouch and starts palming him through the sweats that are beginning to feel damp.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you through your heat.”

Shane squirms until the hand tighten.

“Do you want me to fuck you through your heats?”

“Fuck me.” Shane has a tear forming in the side of his eyes. “Through my heat, please.”

“Yes. Anything for you.” The Alpha kisses him and then leans into Shane’s neck. “For my omega.”

Those words are enough to make Shane whimper.

“You have nest.”

Shane nods his head struggling to find his words.

“Show me.” The Alpha lifts him off the counter and onto the ground. Their hands fold together.

Shane leads the alpha up the stairs and into his bedroom where the lamp is on but the windows are tightly closed and the overhead light is off. Their hands slip apart. Shane squirms feeling another brush of slick fall through his hole into his dampening boxers.

“This is your nest.”

The alpha doesn’t like it?

The Alpha hugs him from behind and kisses the back of his head. “Is beautiful. Keep us warm and safe, yes?”

Shane purrs, which startles him. He hasn’t purred…when did he purr last?

“You want me to fuck you?”

Shane bobs his head.

“Undress.”

Shane tugs free of the Alpha and slowly tugs free his shirt. Once that is folded, the rest of his clothes follow. Afterwards, he shivers turning to the Alpha who has also undressed all but his boxers.

“Get in the nest,” the alpha demands.

Shane crawls in careful not to disturb the outer edge.

“Very good omega.” Then a string of Russian follows.

Shane adjusts trying to get comfortable now that the slick is more freely flowing. It feels like he’s slipping into heat faster.

The alpha walks over to the side table and picks up a condom. He glances at the wrapping.

“It’s for knots.”

Rozanov looks over and hums. “Very prepared. Very ready.”

The praise crawls another bit of his brain away. “I didn’t know. Sometimes, well, I read….” Shane’s brain clogs up because he’s never talked to an alpha about this stuff.

“What did you read?”

“That sometimes Alphas get their rut when with an omega or that sometimes alphas with omegas in heat get knots even if they are not in rut.”

“You are right.”

Shane whines because that means that Ilya has probably been with an omega in heat.

“What is wrong?”

“Fuck me,” he says instead of the other thoughts running through his brain.

Ilya steps to the nest holding the condom. “May I enter your nest?”

“Yes.” He’s wanted that for such a long time. He wants his nest bathed in Ilya’s scent.

Ilya gently moves in without disturbing the edges. He lays down with a hum touching the edge of Shane’s ribs. Ilya leans down. Shane moves to kisses his lips, but instead the alpha kisses his cheeks. “Your freckles.”

Shane freezes. He hates them. Maybe he should have put concealer on them.

“Are so pretty. I fucking love your freckles.”

Shane gasps. “I hate them.”

“No. No. They are gorgeous.”

The dopey smile perches onto Shane’s face. “Gorgeous.”

“Yes, just like all.” The kisses flutter until they reach the omega’s lips. “Of you.” The kiss lands as the other hands snakes down. It plants in between Shane’s legs and pushes easily slipping into place. “Fucking beautiful.”

Shane arches a bit.

“You are so wet. Are you in heat?”

“Pre-heat, but…”

“You smell like you are started.”

Shane can’t argue because his mind is blurring. “Fuck me then.”

“Yes.” The wrapper crinkles. Ilya takes his teeth and tears off the condom so that his fingers can remain within the omega warmth which delights Shane because he doesn’t want to lose more physical contact. He needs the Alpha.

“Alpha, please,” his mouth begs just like his body is.

“I have you.” A hand rubs on his ribs with the edge of rubber. The fingers move out.

“No.” That’s the opposite of what he wanted.

“Almost done.”

Shane watches the Alpha set the condom.

“Are you ready?”

“Now.”

And then the cock lines up. Ilya starts to move. Shane drives his legs and fully sets the cock which makes the alpha and the omega gasps. Shane in pleasure while the Alpha appears from his face with a small gasp surprise, but that is quickly overtaking by a smirk. “Needy.”

Shane scowls starting to shove. “You are useless.”

The palm presses on his sternum making him freeze. “I will fuck you so good, you cannot walk.”

Shane’s eyes light up in lust. “Prove it.”

And the Alpha does.

Later, when they are still knotted together, Shane’s can feel the break in the haze, and the warm body clutching him while his head is tucked into the firm chest muscles. This is going to be the best heat ever.

Chapter End Notes

Also, I am not going to write out the whole heat in detail. There is a scene in this chapter and as well as some in the next chapter for the heat, but there are going to be time skips just because I am not confident in writing a ton of sex scenes. I do write for fun, so I am just going to just show a few scenes from Shane's heat to avoid stressing myself out. However, I have seen several others write Alpha/Omega fics with heats/ruts, so I hope if you are looking for that more flushed out, I know there are some great options.

Stay safe lovelies.

Chapter 24: Ilya - Teased

Chapter Summary

Ilya spends Shane's heat and his mini rut together as well as gets teased a bit by his teammates.

Chapter Notes

Thank you for your continued love and support!

Warning: Sex in the first portion of this chapter.

Ilya runs his hand alongside Shane’s head while his whole Alpha body crawls for him to attack the omega, but Shane isn’t awake. So he can wait and force his body to quiet. His mind hadn’t clicked that being around Shane in heat would trigger him? He already had his rut earlier this year, but it came back burning through him and causing more desire to flush his body. He knew that it could happen if there was a true connection, but he never thought it would happen with him. That he would find his person.

Shane stretches. The beautiful marks on his hips cuddle into Ilya’s side. “Your hard,” Shane mutters. His eyes flicker before his scent sparks up with desire “You smell different.”

“Yeah.” Ilya kisses the side of Shane’s head.

Shane slowly rises up and grabs a condom before settling down.

“We should eat.” But he keeps kissing his neck. The omega does need to eat, but Ilya, the alpha, also doesn’t want to have to get out of the nest or away from the possibility of having sex. But he has to. His omega needs fed.

Apparently, he’s not alone. Shane shakes his head tearing open the condom.

Ilya’s brain stutters feeling Shane touch his rock-hard cock.

Ilya cums. It should be embarrassing, but he’s already hardening again within his omega’s still fingers.

Shane stops watching the cock leak hard and then flicks a look up with a smirk. “You are in rut.”

Ilya nods.

The omega laughs. “You can cum again.”

Ilya nods because if he can go within the omega, the knot will bulge and tie them together. The condom slips on and then the omega without fingering himself rising up and falls onto his cock. Ilya gasps before finding a grip so that he can help make the omega go up and down on his cock. His head cranes back. His lips part.

Then their bodies are struggling as Shane’s pants with his fingers digging into Ilya’s arm leaving marks. His cock grows. His mind fogs in that he flips over Shane and rams in. In and out. Both panting. Both begging. Then his cock locks in and cums as the omega squeals with his own cum flooding around the cock locked inside as well out of his cocklet.

After they are both done, Ilya has to slowly position himself to the side.

Shane groans as the swollen cock fit perfectly inside. “That was…amazing,” Shane says.

Ilya can fully agree.

“How long?”

“Are you okay?” Ilya’s mind stutters. He needs to keep the omega safe. Had he hurt him.

“I want to do it again,” the omega laughs fully in his heat and lust.

Ilya has enough of his mind to kiss gently. “Food and then reward.”

“No fun,” Shane pouts, but his eyes are slipping closed. More than likely Shane will doze until Ilya can slip out.

The next forty-eight hours are a blur of fucking, cuming, sleeping, eating, drinking, cleaning a bit, talking, and a lot more fucking.

On the last day, Ilya has gone out of his short rut, but Shane is still getting caught in the tendril licks of the last day of heat and desire. Ilya kisses at Shane while working his hands up the side of his body. He loves staring over Shane with his dreamy eyes and a tip of his head and sigh as he kicks his legs out to the side of the nest. He will miss when this over, their time together. He still gets to care for his omega though even on the last day. “Do you need something?”

“No.” Shane kisses his back before finding the scent gland in the Alpha’s neck.

“Water?”

“Maybe.”

“I can get food.”

“I don’t know.” Shane muffles into his neck.

“Maybe protein bar or fruit.”

“Do I have fruit left?” Shane rubs his face.

“I will look.”

Shane locks his hands into Ilya’s shirt.

“You stay or go downstairs?”

“I don’t want to leave you.” Shane pouts which is very adorable and something Ilya wishes he could see every day.

Ilya nuzzles at the top of his head. “Come with me.”

“Hmmm. It’s so warm.”

“In the nest?” Ilya kisses his head while Shane seems to be breathing in his scent glands.

“I don’t want to leave.”

“You need to use bathroom too.”

The groan is adorable.

Ilya runs a hand over his cheek. “Then I fuck you one more time.”

The beautiful smile spreads over the omega’s face.

After their time getting needed food, they fall back into the nest. Ilya first eats out the omega getting the joys of that from the hand in his hair, to the mutters on the omega’s tongue, or the squeezes thighs. Shane pants of his need for Ilya.  

“Fuck me,” Shane continues to say until Ilya kisses his lips.

And Ilya does it fuck his omega. Fully enjoys being coated in the scent with the nest around them holding onto the warm flesh of his lover. The last day, they talk while knotted since both have more of their mind.

“I’m glad I asked you,” Shane whispers.

“Yes, is fun.”

“Fun?” Shane wiggles a little making them both groan as they are still fully connected like cement with Shane caught on Ilya’s knot.

“Yes.” Ilya kisses him. “Fun.”

“Right.”

“Boyfriend treats me very well.”

“Does he?”

“Yes. He is very needy.”

“Needy? I’m needy?”

“Yes, but I need just as much.”

Shane smirks with desire.

“And he wishes he could see him all the time.”

“Does he?”

“Yes, he does.” Ilya can feel the want to be with Shane all the time building further in his chest.

“I’ll always need you.”

And then it slips out of the Alpha’s mouth, “I love you.”

They both freeze.

“Shit,” Shane whispers.  

“You do not…”

“I love you too.”

They fall into kissing. They go two more rounds of fucking before Shane is fully out of it. They rebuild the nest with a large loud of laundry and another waiting. They eat some takeout before falling into bed.

“Did you mean it?” Shane asks.

“What?”

“I know that we were both.” Shane sighs. “Well, both caught up in the heat and rut, but did you mean that you loved me.”

Ilya grabs his hand. “Yes.”

“Good.”

“You meant it?”

“Yes, very much.” Shane kisses him.

When Ilya wakes up to his alarm for the airport, they kiss. Shane follows him around. Neither talk about the clothes of the omega’s that the alpha slips into his luggage or the clothes the Alpha leaves behind scattered around.

They kiss.

“You’ll call when you are back.”

“Yes,” Ilya says.

“And text.”

“Always.”

They stare at each other. Both kiss and then force themselves apart.

Ilya can’t believe he’s dragging himself back to Boston, but he is. He also doesn’t have much turn around. He gets one night in his own bed before he is dragging himself to the camp to prepare for grueling training to get ready for the season.

When he gets into the locker room, he has a patch on and is trying to just focus on the game not on the string of text that Shane and he sent each other from teasing to a bit of sexting. Shane is going to training camp as well, so he’s mostly talking about hockey, his teammates, and even cleaning his apartment. The banter burns along with the desire to call him again just to say and hear the word love.

Marlow steps by Ilya’s cubby and sniffs. Odd. Marlow whips his head to Ilya. “Dude did you have a rut?”

Ilya sets his phone down.  

“Even with your patches, I can smell it.”

“Shut up.”

“Who did you spend it with?”

“Did you want me to fuck you?”

“Dude, I can see the marks.”

Ilya glares because he should be the only one to see the marks that his omega left behind on his skin.

“What? So you had rut.”

Ilya grunts.

“You spend it with…” Marlow swaggers his eyebrows.

Ilya winks before grabbing his gear.

“Which girl? Is it that Montreal girl?”

Ilya almost trips before glancing back. “What?”

“I saw a picture of you at the Montreal airport.”

“Me?”

Marlow dances his eyebrows. “Yeah, Roz, why you up there?”

“So I have special friend.” Ilya tries to keep it cool and on the down low like it doesn’t matter.

“You got a girlfriend Roz,” Isla laughs. “Look at you?”

“We have got to meet her,” Stephen adds.

“My omega,” slips free, and because it sounds harsh even to him, he has to force a smirk.

“We aren’t joking about your omega,” Isla raises her hands. “We just hadn’t heard you talk about.”

“He smiles at his phone,” Marlow adds.

“That too,” Connors flicks off his shoes.

Ilya sighs. “Maybe if you play better this season.”

“Hey,” several of them shout.

“What? You let Montreal win,” Ilya hurries into the bathroom stall to use his restroom and get into his gear. “You are all jealous,” is the last shout he makes to the room behind him.

Chapter 25: Shane: Admitting Your Feelings

Chapter Summary

Shane comes out to his parents about having a boyfriend, wins an award, and spends another heat with Ilya.

Chapter Notes

There is a bit of a time jump. I hope you guys are still enjoying the fic. Stay safe lovelies!!!

Warning: Sex scene towards the end of the fic.

Shane is happy with the next year. Montreal wins another cup. Rozanov and he hook up a few times. The Pikes are amazing. His parents are doing great and enjoying seeing him win. He’s made enough money that maybe in a year or so, he could build a cottage if one of the lots a few miles from his parents go up for sale. It could be tucked away and safe.

Back-to-back cups mean another season. It’s still not multiple years. Farah offered to look elsewhere, but Shane pushes it off. There is now a rhythm with his team that he would have to start from scratch elsewhere. Ilya comes over to Montreal for two days again before leaving for Russia for the summer. That’s nice. Since they are boyfriends.

They have plans to spend another heat together, but this time right after the awards show before Ilya goes to Russia. His father is worse and Ilya calls him much more often, typically after talking to his brother or father.

His parent’s fuss after him. They don’t go to the award show since they traveled around to watch him play and win the cup, but they are dropping him off at the airport.

“You shouldn’t take a cab back.”

His body tenses because he doesn’t want this fight. He knows all about how the world isn’t as safe for omegas. “Mom.”

She messes with her hair while his dad gives him a look that encourages him to have patience with his mom. “I’m just saying. We would gladly drive down, and we could maybe take you home. I hate thinking of you alone in your apartment.”

Shane blushes and has to look away.

“Shane.” That voice. She could tell something was different.

“He’s done it before,” his dad sighs. “But we’d still love to have you.” And there went the support.

“It’s embarrassing be home,” Shane mutters.

“But we can make sure your fed and have water and…”

“Mom.” You don’t want your parents doing it though, you want your alpha to.

She sighs. “At least let us drive you home.”

But he can’t because Ilya is flying back on the same plane. They won’t sit together so that it’s not suspicious, but they are still going to grab a cab together or maybe separate if too many fans are around. His parents would stay around his apartment, help him get ready, and what is Ilya supposed to do but stand in the cold or find somewhere in Montreal to waste time and likely get a picture taken of him. Sure, people knew they were friends in their friendly rivalry, but people would talk. They wanted to avoid that as much as possible.

“Honey, you don’t have to be alone.”

Shane adjusts in his seat.

“Are you okay?” His dad asks.

His eyes clamp, and his breathing picks up. He hates lying to his parents.

“Shane?” His mom says.

“Are you going into heat early?”

“No,” Shane forces out as the car stops at a light.

“Then what is it?” His dad asks.

“You can tell us anything,” his mom pats his leg.

He knows he could, but would they be truly okay with it in the end.

“Please, you’re worrying me Shane,” his mom squeezes his leg before continuing to drive as the light went green.

“You won’t be mad?” he whispers.

“No, you’re our son. We love you,” his mom says.

“We support you with everything,” his dad adds.

Fine then. Take a deep breath and it spills from his lips. “I’m actually going to spend it with an Alpha.”

His mom gasps.

“Who?” His dad’s eyebrow furrows.

“A friend.”

“Girlfriend?” his mom asks as she turns.  

“Boyfriend?” his dad says.

“Kind of?” His hands smash between his thighs.

“We don’t care which one,” his mom says. “But honey, we want you to be safe. Alphas can be…”

“It’s a guy.”

“Okay,” his dad squeezes the arm of his son. “We trust you.”

“But we want to make sure this guy is good for you.”

Shane can’t stop squirming. Why does he feel like he’s five and been caught stealing candy from the bucket in the cupboard? “He is.”

“How long have you been together?”

Shane knows he is pink.

“Three months, six, a year?” his mom asks.

“We don’t mind how long,” his dad moves back now.

Shane squirms because that would just show how long he’s been hiding it from his parents, which is a pretty long time.

“Baby, we just want to make sure you are safe.”

He grabs at his neck. “We were official just about a year.”

“A year?” His mom pulls into a parking space and parks. The car goes off and it is silent.

“Thank you for telling us,” Dad says.

“Did we do something?” His mom turns around.

“No.”

“A year?” Her lips tremble.

“Yuna.”

“I’m just trying to understand. We love you no matter what. If you went with an omega man or woman or beta or alpha, you are our son. We love you.”

“He’s kind of private too,” Shane whispers.

“Is he going to pick you up from the airport?” His mom asks.

“Kind of,” he mutters.

“What?”

“He’s flying in on the same day as me,” Shane whispers.

“So it’s long distance?”

“You don’t have to tell us,” his dad says.

“Yeah, it is,” Shane says. “But I love him.” He’s telling his parents that he’s in love with Ilya. Wow. His heart flutters.

“We are happy for you,” his mom grabs his hands. “We would love to meet him. Could he come up to our cottage maybe?”

Shane swallows. “I can ask him.”

“Do you want that?” his mom asks.

“You are the most important person to us Shane,” his dad adds.

“You know that, sweetie?” his mom says.

“I do,” because he wants another person to talk to about Ilya not just Naomi known that he’s with some guy and that’s it. That’s all he has. He’d love to include his parents when he’s worried about Ilya going back to Russia or venting about hockey or just that he’s lonely and wants his Alpha…his alpha there. The words are like butter to his brain. “I want you to meet him, but I have to ask.”

“Okay, and if you ever feel in danger, you’ll call us.”

“No matter what,” his dad adds.

“I know.”

“Okay, well we need to get you to the airport so that you aren’t late.”

Shane smiles. He’s come out to his parents as like an alpha man, and they want to meet him and want Shane safe first rather than pressing him on anything else. They were still driving him. They wanted to meet his boyfriend.

This can’t be happening to him, but it is. It truly is. He came out to his parents in a way, and they just wanted to support him and make sure he was safe, nothing more. That’s all he ever wanted.

Going to the award ceremony is different on his own but also special in the sense that he can feel Ilya’s possessive eyes on him. Shane is going to possibly win an award as well as Rory which is incredible. It’s unbelievable that they are both on the list.

Some are disgruntled online stating that maybe there should be a separate award for omegas, but Shane pushes it off.

He does win. He sits there wanting to cry.

“I want to thank my parents who never let anyone tell me what I couldn’t do. I want to thank my agent Farah for always pushing me. I want to thank not only everyone on the Montreal Metros but the Stars. My sponsors. And Ilya Rozanov for being a competitive jerk and helping me prove to the world that omegas can beat Alphas.” Shane nods before grinning off the stage. It feels nice to have people applauding him. Sure, there are glares, but he shoves that right beside the ‘jokes’ that are thrown just like the last two years.

People hug him. Pat him on the back. Scott Hunter singles him out to congratulate him for all he’s done and his awesome back-to-back years.

“Will probably be a third time.”

Scott laughs at that.

Shane is one of the top scorers of the whole NHL and probably if he had been an Alpha would be placed so the captain, but he is not one. He quickly gets changed before packing his bags and calling his own car to get to the airport. When he arrives and has his bags checked, he only has a few minutes to wait until Ilya arrives and sits a few rows from him. They both stand in line and sit in first class.

They chose to fly out late that night so that they could arrive in the early hours of the next day. They both get in a rental car that Ilya has reserved before heading together towards Shane’s apartment. Once they pull in, Shane takes his own luggage up. Before his bags hit the floor, kisses pepper his neck.

“Take it off,” Ilya flicks at the patch.

Shane pants.

“Off. Please.”

When Shane rips it off, Ilya buries his face into the scent gland and huffs.

“Yes.” The voice is so mellow and sweet.

Shane pants as the hands slide down his side. The Alpha pheromones hungrily grab at him. He is so going to have to shower before he can leave because he’s seeping in the Alpha’s scent. Nothing but that clings to his body like a weighted blanket stretching over Shane.

“My name.” Ilya has him boxed in.

“What?”

“Said it, on stage, front of everyone.”

“Okay.” Shane darts his eyes around Ilya’s face for a sign. Should he have not? Was that suspicious?

“Very sexy.”

Shane laughs. “What?”

Ilya starts kissing his jaw line. “Say again.”

What does he want? Did he hear that right? “Your name?”

“Very good name, yes?”

“Ilya Rozanov.”

The Alpha hums nipping at Shane’s ear.

That is what has the Alpha so hungry. “Ilya Rozanov.”

The humming continues with the kisses over his scent.

“My Alpha, Ilya Rozanov.”

The air sucks, and Ilya steps back.

That was too far.

“Say again,” it comes out like a challenge, a chirp on the ice.

“My Alpha, Ilya Rozanov.”

The Alpha smirks with a flick over Shane. The shirt is unbuttoned on Ilya’s chest showing off the muscle and sweat.

“My Alpha.” Shane pushes off the wall and tips his head. “Ilya Rozanov.”

The eyes flicker over him. “Take off your clothes.”

“Is that an order, Alpha?”

Ilya hums grabbing a drink.

“Ilya Rozanov, are you ordering me?” The voice continues to prance from Shane’s chest.

“Yes, it is. Take off your clothes, omega.”

The shiver burns up his spine. Shane plays with the collar of his shirt and slips it free. “Yes, Alpha.”

Ilya’s eyes flicker as he downs the vodka in his glasses.

Shane folds his jacket and sets it on the back of the couch. He fingers the top button of his shirt. “Like this, Alpha.”

“Omega is very good.”

The shiver is more violent this time.

“Go on.”

Shane keeps unbuttoning down until his chest is caught in the lights outside the hotel room.

“Very pretty.” It’s said like a prayer.

Shane hums before stretching his shoulders to take off the shirt. He starts to fold it focusing on the seams rather than the man before him. Then he steps out of his shoes before lining them up with the others by the door.

“So obedient. You are so good,” the alpha pauses with a sigh before grabbing more vodka which Shane buys just for him. He pours it and then flickers his look up to Shane unbutton his pants. “At following your alpha’s orders. Good omega.”

Shane nods before revealing his boxers that have the outline of his cocklet.

“Oh, very good,” Ilya murmurs picking back up his glass.

Once he’s stepped out of the pants, he folds them as well. Then he peels off his socks.

“Go on.”

The windows feel like a thousand eyes are staring at him. “Isn’t it more appropriate on the bed?”

“Are you telling your alpha?”

Shane shivers.

“Come.” Ilya walks away.

Shane forces his feet to follow more than just because his alpha told him but that is the reason. He wants to get fucked to heaven and back by his alpha and nothing more.

“Very pretty nest.”

Shane’s lips part.

“Get in the nest.”

Shane slips down and touches his boxers.

“Did I tell to do that?”

Shane cocks his head but he stops moving.

Ilya peers over Shane. The alpha’s hand rubs on the edge of the bed before taking on his scent patch and flicking into the garbage can. “Can I get in your nest?”

“Yes.”

Rips off his shirt and pants along with his socks. He’s just down to his boxers before he enters in. “I will take them off.”

Shane nods his head.

“Yes. You are best omega ever.” Ilya grabs onto the lip of the boxers. Their scents roll together before his head tips to the side. Then his boxers fall away.

Shane coos while his leaking hole is exposed to the cool apartment air. Ilya kisses the boxers before dropping it away from the nest.

Ilya starts kissing before grabbing a condom from the table that Shane had left out. Shane grabs onto Ilya’s arms that are moving slightly while Ilya rubs his swelling cock before tearing open the condom wrapper with his teeth. “You want?”

“Please,” because that is all that he needs right now. His mind begs for the cock to slip into his body and make him full. That is all he really needs right now. His body arches against the folds of his nest.

He must be in heat. His mind is blurring. He wants to be rammed.

“Are you…”

“Ilya, please, now,” his body is begging for the cock.

The hand rubs two fingers in.

The whine creeps out while his hands search over the muscled body.

Then the cock lines up. As Ilya’s Russian accent starts to flutter out, Shane plants himself and then jams his Alpha’s cock into his body.

It shocks the both of them into gasping, but the Alpha gets the message and starts ramming his body in and out. The knot naturally builds against the rubber. It’s delighting. Slick pours. Their moans rise. Kisses fall.

When Ilya’s cock finally goes down from the swollen knotted form, Shane slips free before grabbing up the scent that is on the ground. He grabs up the dirty boxers, shirt, pants, and even socks and starts tugging on the nest to find a nice place to slip in the scent of his alpha between the folds. When he settles, the Alpha’s arms reach out and nestle the omega to the safe chest to doze off before the raging heat returns.  

Chapter 26: Ilya - Meeting the Parents

Chapter Summary

Ilya meets Shane's parents, and even though it has moments of stress, it goes well.

Chapter Notes

Rozanov loves kissing all the way down the omega as he’s flushed in the lull between bursts of the heat. Part of Rozanov wishes they were in his apartment so that the heat smell could infest every part of his house and not just Hollander’s but he desires to have it all. He wants the clothes scattering every nook and cranny of his and those smoothie ingredients stuffing his fridge and watching Shane fold clothes because he can’t stand them on the floor. Or even have that moment to see the perfectly lined up the shoes because that’s the way his omega wants it or watch Shane retrieve a book from a shelf when he has a moment when he can’t sleep but doesn’t need Ilya’s cock and puts on his cute glasses. He would take that in his own room on a daily basis on not just now in throws of heat.

He wants every minute that Shane can give him.

Right now, in the end of the heat, Shane messes with his hands while he watches Ilya make them omelets as he sips on the very green smoothie due to the spinach and kale that he shoved in their earlier.

“You need to wait?”

“Huh.” Then Shane blushes like they haven’t been fucking consistently for almost the past four days. “No. No. I think it’s over.”

Ilya nods. The last fuck this morning was it for the heat and the short rut. Usually, Ilya got rut twice a year, but last year, he had the short one with Shane and one over Christmas. He imagines that the short maybe thirty-six hours this time was it for this summer which is both nice but also sad.

“Do you want to come to my parents’ cottage for the weekend?”

Ilya almost drops the spatula before glancing back.

“Just for this weekend. We could drive it’s almost three hours to their cottage.”

“To their cottage?”

The omega twists his hand and gives off a burst of anxiety. “They want to meet you.”

Ilya’s jaw clicks. When did Shane tell his parents? Did Shane not want them to meet? Would they be hateful? Would they judge like others would? They seemed like nice people and every time Shane talks about them it was with precious eyes but maybe that was a mistake, a misreading?

“Well, they want to meet my boyfriend, the alpha courting me.” Shane clutches his cup. “I haven’t told them who.” Shane messes with his lip.

Ilya plates the omelet and then brings it over.

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes.” Ilya sets the food down. “I do.”

Shane sits up.

“Training camp is not for week. I can go with. Meet your parents. Be with you more.”

“Are you sure?”

Ilya nods. “But.”

Shane stops breathing.

“I have to do laundry.”

Shane laughs. “What?”

“You do not have…” Ilya gestures. “Washer and dryer.”

“I do.” Shane twists his fork.

“You make me pay for it?”

“A lot.” Shane leans in and kisses him. “Thank you.”

They leave the next day just after lunch so that they can make it in time for dinner.

Listening to Shane on the phone with his parents is adorable because he paces and keeps saying little things to them while also sighing some like. “Mom, yes, we were safe.” Which means Mrs. Hollander must have asked about condoms or something like that to make her son go rosy like that. He could take that every day to, the blush on Hollander’s cheeks. It’s so adorable.

Making the car trip is different, but it is nice to just have the music, quiet conversation, and even a little nap for about fifteen minutes. Shane got gas before they left so that they can make to Shane’s parents without having to stop. When they get near the house, Shane shares about coming out here, enjoying the lake, and even having it be his break between hockey season.

“And really I didn’t mean to tell my parents I was gay.”

Ilya perks at this glancing at his boyfriend.

“What? I didn’t.”

There is the scent of anxiety. It’s been great not having to wear patches around each other, but catching a whiff of that, tugs on Ilya’s heart. “But they okay with it?”

“They were worried about me being safe.” Shane flicks his hand while the other clenches on the steering wheel.

“Good.”

“Why?”

“You need to be safe.” Ilya takes his hand and kisses it.

“Well, I am, but they wanted to meet you.”

“Good.” It means they at least are okay enough with Shane being with an alpha in hockey and specially a player who may not be so liked by the general public.

When they pull off the main road and onto the back area. They slip into a small line of homes. They pull through some trees into a tight gravel drive way. Shane parks the car. Ilya peers at the parents that are standing at the door waiting for them. They are whispering to each other eyes that are wide enough to show that maybe he took the idea that they knew as being too specific. “You told them?”

That anxiety rises up. “They know I’m bringing my boyfriend.”

So at least it wouldn’t be a complete shock. “You say name. Ilya Rozanov, right?”

Shane groans. “I meant to.”

Ah, that makes more sense.

“Maybe you should wait in the car.”

Ilya raises his eyebrow.

“Your right.” Shane opens his door. His parents come down the steps towards them.

“Hi,” David Hollander, which Ilya knows not only from Shane but the internet, goes for a hug.

“How was the trip?” Yuna hugs as well glancing over at Ilya.

“Good.” Shane moves back and grabs onto Ilya’s hand. “This is Ilya. Rozanov. Which you knew.”

“Yes,” Yuna says.

David looks over Ilya and then glances at Shane. “So this is your…” David takes a breath.

“Boyfriend,” Ilya fills in. “Thank you for inviting me,” he says as carefully as possible so that there aren’t any problems or misinterpretations.

“Yeah.” Shane seems to be choking out.

Ilya forces himself to keep his expression natural and tries to get a smile. “Is good to meet you.”

Yuna shifts a little bit. “Yes, we really want to meet the man our son was interested in.”

Ilya knows that the stress on each word was key. “Thank you for having me.”

Shane shuffles. “Can we put stuff in our room?”

“You need help,” David Hollander asks.

“I think we have it,” Shane says.

Ilya smiles.

“I can get you something to eat. I imagine you are hungry.”

“If you want mom, I’m not that hungry,” Shane says.

Ilya touches Shane’s back.

Shane twitches. Should he remove the hand? He thought everything would go well, but the omega is tense.

Davis claps his hands. “I’ll lead the way.”

They walk in. The parents lead them down the side hallway to a guest room, but it does have some touches of Shane since this must be his room when he comes.

“This alright,” Yuna asks. “I imagine…” her lips perse.

David hums before pointing to the closet. “You can put anything you need in there. The bathroom is shared with other room, and you can use that if you need. It’s got a couch that you can pull into a bed, and you can move my desk chair or anything you need to move.

“We won’t need it,” Shane says.

Ilya forces a smile. He doesn’t want to throw himself into the conversation too much that makes anyone uncomfortable.

“Well, when you are ready, we’ll be in the kitchen,” Yuna walks out.

David nods. “Good to see you.” He hugs Shane before following Yuna out.

Shane lets out a deep breath of air before grabbing at his hair. Ilya places his bag to the side before looking over Shane. “You good?”

“Ugh, I should have told them.”

Ilya hums before walking to the omega. He runs his hand over the arms tense and upward. “It is awkward.”

“I’m sorry.” Shane snaps open his eyes. “I shouldn’t have asked…”

“No, we are boyfriends.”

That makes the goofy little smile blossom.

“And as boyfriend, I met parents. It is good sign, yes. They want to meet me.”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “But Ilya Rozanov is a different matter.”

“Is he?” Ilya says with all the teasing voice. “I did not know.”

“Yes, an asshole, big mean alpha, this reputation.”

Ilya frames his hips. “Hmm, and how does he kiss.” He’s slow close to doing it.

Shane blushes.

Ilya kisses him, and they tumble onto the bed. Shane sighs. “Your parents love you, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then it is fine.”

Shane tucks a hand under his head. He looks so adorable with a little twitch of his cheek and those eyes looking at him.

“We are good?”

“Okay.”

Ilya runs his hand up Shane’s arm. “We could hide in here.”

Shane glares.

“What? We could?”

“We are not having sex.”

“I did not say.”

“You were thinking it.”

Ilya does a dramatic pout. “Was just saying we hide away.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Who says?”

“My mom would drag us out.”

Ilya rolls his eyes.

“And that’s rude.”

“You can blame me. Bad Russian boyfriend.”

Shane kisses him. “You don’t have to. I’m just in my head.”

“Okay?”

After they use the restroom, they walk out. David is cooking while Yuna is on her phone. She flicks a look over. “You get settled?” David asks with his little apron on.

“Yeah, a little bit,” Shane says with a death grip on Ilya’s hand.

“Good, if you need anything, we got extras in that bathroom, or you can ask us,” David says before turning back to checking the pasta.

“So, you feeling ready for the season?” Yuna slips the phone onto the counter.

“Yes,” Shane says.

“And you guys don’t mind playing against each other?” Yuna asks.

“Always about hockey,” David laughs.

“What, it’s important?” Yuna crosses her arms. “You never let him win, did you?”

“Do you ever let dad win at cards?”

Mrs. Hollander looks very offended with a toss of her hair. “No. I would never.”

“See. It’s same for us,” Shane says.

“Okay.” Yuna sighs. “Okay.” The kitchen stills for a minute. Ilya wants to touch the small of Shane’s back, but does he want that?

“So when did this start?” David asks.

“Uh,” Shane seems to search for words.

“Was it at the all-star game?” David asks. “You had so much chemistry.”

“No.”

“So when?” Yuna judges.

“A while.”

“When you met?” Yuna looks over.

“No,” Ilya says. Even though he wishes that maybe it did date that far back.

“Okay,” Yuna darts a look.

David moves around starting to get the sauce ready.

“It was uh before I started playing.”

“No, before Rory signed. When I flew out for your champion games.”

“You were there.”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Is that why you blew us off?” David asks.

Shane groans.

“Do your teammates know?” Yuna asks.

“No one knows,” Shane says.

“And you’ve been dating since then?”

“No,” the both say.

“Okay, so that’s new?” Yuna plays with the counter.

David drains the pasta.

“About a year,” Shane says.

“Wow,” Yuna says.

“Does someone want to set the table?”

“I can,” Ilya offers because he feels like he can help.

“No, you’re a guest,” Yuna says.

“I do not mind.”

“Well, I do,” Yuna gets out the silverware.

Shane sighs.

“So, what is your plan,” She walks to the table behind the boys.

“For what?” Shane asks.

“Are you planning to come out soon?”

“I don’t know. You know what people would think,” Shane whispers.

“That’s sad.” Yuna sighs with the silverware clinking.

And Ilya can’t disagree. They get situated with dinner. The pasta is amazing. Shane taps on Ilya’s arm, but it just smelled so good.

“Well, we need a backup plan.”

Ilya’s brain stutters before he takes a bite.

“If anyone finds out, I know that Reebok and Rolex and even CCM would support you. They have done ad campaigns with plenty of relationships like you. I mean not really CCM, but the others. I am sure they would pay.”

“Mom.” Shane sounds like he wants to fall through the floor. Ilya touches the edge of his omega’s arm trying to get him to still.

“What? You have invested a lot in your career.”

David hands him to more parmesan to add to the pasta.

“I just want to make sure you are safe through it all and won’t have to handle as much stress.”

“I don’t want to think about it.”

Coming out, Ilya’s face twists. He could lose his ability to be in the states because he lost good standing in Russia. They would not like a look of someone famous dating a male omega.

“Okay, but we have to talk about it sometime. No matter that it’s not be acceptable for male alphas and omegas to date each other for a few decades, it doesn’t mean that people don’t judge especially when you are in the professional athletic field.

Shane takes a deep breath. Ilya stops. Shane starts to lean forwards and place his head on the lip of the table.

Ilya stops and puts the fork down. He reaches over and rubs his hand on Shane’s scent gland. “Shane. Shane.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbles.

“Shane, you are safe. No one is mad. Your parents love you. Your mate loves you.”

Shane gasps and turns his teary eyes to Ilya.

“Mate?”

“I mean.” Ilya smiles. “I do not think you are getting rid of me.”

“Wow.”

And then they kiss.

Chapter End Notes

I love that you guys have been giving so many kudos, comments, and love to this fic. It just means so much to me. It keeps me writing, and I hope you enjoy this update. The world seems to heavy right now, and I'm glad I can escape and help you guys escape with fics like this.
Stay safe lovelies!!!!!

Chapter 27: Shane - To Be With You Always

Chapter Summary

Shane enjoys the highs including having his parents and Ilya around together, but also lows of Ilya losing his father and an injury that will change his future.

Chapter Notes

You are all so sweet with your love! I appreciate your comments and kudos. I love this chapter, and hope you do too!

Shane can’t believe holding onto Ilya’s hand while on his parent’s couch with the tv on with a new documentary about the NHL in the 1980s. His mom chatters at the tv while his dad glances from his phone and interacts a bit. Mom makes comments about seeing some of this on tv and about her dad loving hockey. Ilya interacts some. He talks a bit about Soviet hockey and his childhood. Dad talks a little bit about the Olympics and his own experience in hockey. But it is mom like always that rattles the most facts and comments on what shots they could have used as well for the documentary.

Ilya has a smirk on his face. “Is like you,” he whispers.

“What?” Shane keeps his voice down.

“You and your mom. I see where you get it.”

Shane feels shocked by that revelation because he can’t believe that’s something that Ilya would connect because he got some of his love…okay a lot of his love of hockey from his mom, but his dad played hockey into college.

He tells that Ilya later, (even though his dad brought it up in the living room), but Ilya just says, “See you and mother same.”

“What?”

“You both love hockey players.”

Shane glares at him, but then Ilya kisses him and the teasing is forgotten. But Shane doesn’t let it get farther than kissing. He is not having sex as his parents cottage.

When Shane gets up early, leaving Ilya in the bed snoring gently, he sees his mom on the back deck with her phone and book on the table holding a cup of coffee. After he gets his own cup, he slips out and sits down.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Morning.” He curls a leg up and tugs at the sleeves of his hoodie. He should have put on sweats and not kept the shorts on. It’ll get warm fast but this morning has a bite to it.

“I’ve enjoyed getting know Ilya.”

“Really?”

His mom nods. A whisp of her hair blows onto her face, and she removes it quickly.

Shane can’t help but blush and feel a tightness he’s been clutching to his chest and let it slip free. “I know he’s not…” Shane doesn’t know how to say it. “And that I may not be exactly how you…” the words tripping in his head.

“Oh, no, Shane.”

His eyes are watering. He’s disappointed his mom.

“Look at me.”

He can’t. Anywhere but at her eyes that maybe hate or pity him. He can’t have that.

“Look at me Shane.”

He forces his eyes to flick over because she is his mom.

“I am so sorry that I made you feel like you couldn’t come out to me. I am so sorry. I love you no matter what. I am sorry I made you think you that I wouldn’t.” Her hand grasps onto his arm. “And I am so proud of everything you have done. It never matters who you love as long as you are happy.”

“I am happy,” breaks out.

“Good.” She falls into a hug.

Later after their tears are dried, his dad comes out and offers to make breakfast and then Ilya joins them kissing Shane before sitting down. “This is good,” he says digging into the quiche.

When they leave, part of Shane wants to cry hugging his parents. It is so wonderful.

He takes Ilya’s hand and smiles.

“Good?”

“Very good,” Shane smiles. This is literally a perfect season and time.

When he gets into the locker room, he has hope that maybe this will be a third cup year. He has more money. He has just negotiated to be renewed (for only one year, yes), but it is a lot of hope. People make less comment at least to him. Hayden and Jackie spend a lot of time with him and make sure he gets invited. JJ is nice. Even a few others are polite and share with him or at least make jokes that are appropriate and celebrate with him.

He's on the top of his game.

Ilya and him talk every night they don’t have a game. Sometimes it is facetime, but others it is just a phone call while he’s doing his night routine in the mirror.

“I want to facetime.”

“No.”

“Why no?”

“Because.”

“You have someone over.”

What? Did Ilya think he would be like that? “No. What the fuck? I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“I am teasing.” Then the Alpha whines, maybe it’s fake but without the pheromone cues, it is hard to tell. “Why won’t you face time me?”

“Because I’m doing my night routine.”

“I have seen you do this.”

“I look ugly.”

“No, no, you never look ugly. No one should talk about my pretty omega like that.”

Shane glares at himself in the mirror because he has a thin headband keeping his hair back and currently has a face that is maybe a bit red due to rubbing.

“Please.”

Shane hangs up and then facetimes.

The Alpha immediately picks up. “Do not hang up on me.”

“You wanted to Facetime.”

“You did not say that. You seemed mad.”

“I am mad.” Shane scrunches his face down at the camera.

Ilya is laying on his bed with the pillow creasing his face. “You are so cute.” There is a string of Russian words afterwards.

Shane shakes his head. “How is your dad?”

“I do not want to talk about my father.”

Shane sighs holding onto the edge of the sink. “I just wanted to check.”

“I want to see your face. Fix the direction.”

“You get the angle you get.”

“I do not like it.”

“Well, I can hang up.”

“No,” the whine is enough for Shane to shut up and rinse of his face before grabbing the next step. “You are very mean.”

“You deserve it.”

“I do not.”

Shane rolls his eyes.

That is how many of their conversations go.

When Ilya is in Boston, they get the evening after the game. They give each other blow jobs and fingering before having dinner and then Ilya plows Shane into the bed before dozing on and off until Ilya leaves to sneak back into his hotel.

Then they have the all-star game, which Shane goes to.

Shane beats Ilya this year at the shot accuracy. They play on the same team, which also wins. Ilya even dares to kiss the edge of his helmet.

It’s nice.

They hang out in the bar. At the pool. At a party. In the locker room. And of course, in the hotel room, but there they fuck.

When Shane goes to Boston, he goes to Ilya’s room before the game because it is an evening game. He snuggles to his Alpha’s chest after they fuck.

“You smell like mine.”

Shane huffs. “Well, I’ll have to wash here and at the hotel.”

“I do not like.”

“Well, you have to,” Shane mutters before kissing him again.

The next day, Shane gets the news that Ilya didn’t fly to Memphis with his team. That can’t be. He has every base covered. He texts. Nothing, but that just could mean Ilya is on the plane and can’t reach out. It’s driving him nuts. Once he is home, he calls and gets nothing.

He wants to tug his hair out.

Instead, he sends Hayden to check in and see about how Jackie is doing now that she is getting into the last few months of her pregnancy. So, what if Hayden is shocked by him texting, he needs something to take his mind off of it. He does get a cute photo of Arthur after bathtime with his hair up and some cute duck pjs.

Then he messages Naomi.

Naomi

goin 2 club

cum

be fun

Shane

I have games this week

I’m not drink

Naomi

LAMEEEEEEE!!!!!!

so y txt me?

u sad????

or something

Shane

You are my friend

I text you sometimes

Naomi

u always txt with reasn

spillllll man

Shane

I was bored

Naomi

LIAR!!!!
u read a book

u watch doc

u call mom

not txt naomi

Shane

Fine, a friend of mine is ignoring me

And I thought I haven’t text you enough

Naomi

bttr friend thn me!

Shane

Does it matter?

Naomi

uh yeah

always wll

Shane

Different friend

Naomi immediately calls him.

He waits for the third ring to pick up.

“You’re very rude.”

“Sorry.” Shane plays with his shirt.

“Ugh, now you are so polite, you Canadians.”

“You were born here.”

“Whatever, you basically never talk to me.”

“I hang out with you almost once a month.”

“With everyone else.”

“I’m sorry. We got coffee like a few weeks ago.”

“And your texts, you text so boring. All about hockey. Do you do nothing else? We live in the same city. There are cool things to do.”

“You’ve had a girlfriend for about a year too.”

“Too? Too?”

Shane wants to sink into a hole. “Fine, I have a boyfriend.”

Naomi is yelling, and somewhere in the background, Shane can hear Darla asking her if something is wrong.

“You can’t tell people.”

“Darla will know because she is a part of me.”

Shane clutches the phone trying not to smile by picturing Ilya’s face. “This is a secret.”

“Fine, tell me everything.”

“I can’t.”

“You so can. Who have you been hanging out with? Is he local? Do I know him?”

“He’s not local,” because maybe that will dodge the idea of Naomi possibly knowing him.

“Ugh, what else?”

“I like him.”

“Duh, come on, give me the deats.”

Shane laughs. “I don’t know. He likes bad tv and calling me boring and eating food he shouldn’t…”

“You mean food that isn’t in your diet.”

“Yeah whatever, like ice cream.”

“Many people eat ice cream.”

“It’s not good for you.” Why is having this argument again?

“Does he like hockey?”

That’s a tough one. “Yes.”

“So Montreal fan?”

“No, actually, not.”

“What team?”

“It doesn’t…”

“Don’t say it doesn’t matter. It so matters.”

“Boston,” he coughs.

“Oh, my word, the Boston Bears. Are you serious?”

“What he lives in the states?”

“We can’t be friends.”

“You are horrible.”

“You are. How could you date someone like that?”

“Darla doesn’t even like hockey.”

“She likes soccer, and she wears my jersey unlike your boyfriend I bet.”

Shane rolls his eyes. “We need to plan a hang out.”

“Don’t distract me.” But she does get distracted by it.

While in bed reading later, he gets a call back from Ilya. It’s a facetime, and Shane doesn’t recognize the background. Ilya looks tired as well.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Where are you?”

“Home.”

“Boston?” That doesn’t make sense.

“Russia.”

“Oh, is your dad…”

“Yes, dead.”

Shane tries to pour out his comfort to his boyfriend. In the end, he has phone sex with him while they are both on facetime. Afterwards, both flushed, they talk in low voices. Then it becomes just staring wishing the other was there.

When Ilya calls him after the funeral and family dinner together, there are many tears. Shane is on the road sharing a hotel room with Hyden. He runs off and ends up cramped in the stairwell clutching his chest wishing he could do more than just sit and listen to mostly Russian words.

“I love you,” Ilya finally says. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Shane wipes his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“Your father, for you being alone, for…for not being able to do more, be enough.”

“You are amazing. I love you so much. There is nothing to be sorry for. I do not know if I will come back.”

“From Russia.”

“No, return to Russia.”

“Oh.”

“I think maybe this is last time.”

“I’m sorry.”

Ilya mutters something in Russian.

“Maybe we should talk about it when you get back.”

“Yes,” Ilya agrees.

Shane plays with his cheek. They talk a bit more before he goes back to his room.

Hayden raises an eyebrow. “You good man.”

“Yeah.” Shane realizes his eyes are swollen from his conversation with Ilya. It had been a lot. He lays on the bed and stares at Hayden. “When did you know Jackie was the one?”

Hayden turns off his phone but rotates it in his hand as he talks. “From the moment I met her I guess, well, I kind of got a little drunk the first time we met, but then she was willing to give me a hard time when we saw each other. That’s probably when.”

“Oh,” Shane plays with his pillow.

“Are you in love, buddy?”

Shane nods slowly.

Hayden puts the phone down. “Okay, when do I get to meet her?”

Shane starts tearing up.

“Did she break up with you? Is that why you left?”

“No, it’s just, death in the family.”

“Hers?”

Shane can’t come out and use the pronouns, so instead, he nods again.

“That’s tough. Being on the road and not there. You could ask for a personal day.”

Shane shakes his head.

“Is this the Boston girl?”

Shane’s eyes jerk open and then he sits up.

“Dude, every time we are in Boston, you get all giddy. I mean a few times also, but like Boston, obvious.”

“Oh.” That made sense. Thinking about Ilya and being around him does make him feel happier, but no one had ever mentioned it.

“So, am I right?”

“Kind of.” Shane pulls at his sleeve.

“She lives in Boston.”

Shane nods.

“She better not like the Boston Bears.”

The smile perks up.

Hayden makes a horrified gasp. “She does. You’re shitting me? Really? Are you going to trade?”

Shane laughs shaking his head.

“Ugh, you have to let us met her.”

“Okay,” maybe after this season. Naomi and Hayden and Jackie could all be trusted. His parents accepted Ilya, so would his friends. He knows they would.

Ilya’s first game back is with Montreal. They are in the playoffs and seeing each other. They have plans after the game. It’s up in Montreal, so Shane has plans at his apartment, including some food ready to be ordered and the drinks they both like, Coke and Ginger Ale. He even has some ice cream, which he never buys, but he wants it for Ilya.

They have traded plans. Say a little bit on the ice which Hayden comments on. Everyone knows they are friends, and Ilya’s dad did just day. Then they are facing off. Only a few minutes in, it all goes bad. Shane is trying to keep his head on a swivel. He has the puck. He dodges one Boston player, is running from Ilya, and then wham, the next thing he knows he’s flying towards the ice and everything goes dark for a moment with his ears ringing, but he swears he heard his Alpha roar.

Chapter 28: Ilya - Kiss the Breaking Ice

Chapter Summary

Ilya goes feral when he sees his omega drop, and then has to deal with the mental toll of everyone knowing and outing Shane's secret.

Chapter Notes

There are a few small time jumps throughout this chapter. Just be aware of that.

Thanks for the continued love and support. I've been soooooooo tired this week. Like really tired. I don't know. It's been a lot lately. I feel like I just didn't edit this as well as I could have. I may come back to this chapter in a few weeks and like redo it because I feel like it isn't my best work. However, I need to get something out because if I don't, I feel like I just might start screaming or something. Writing is literally my outlet...

Stay safe lovelies!!!!!

Rozanov roars like a torn Alpha. He knows that he’s gone insane. Pike is after Marlow, but Rozanov jumps grabbing at Marlow. The flesh meets his fist. People scream. Someone grabs at him. Get away. This alpha fucking hurt his omega. Ilya is ripping at the uniform trying to catch him again. His fangs have dropped while his voice is ripping through the arena. Several hands are on, but he’s shoving them away.

“Ilya,” he recognizes Stephen’s.

Marlow has wide eyes, but that doesn’t matter. The man took down his omega. He must pay. His being restrained. His muscles try to rise. A roar echoes around the arena.

“He’s going feral.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Are you sure?”

“The pheromones man.”

“Why is this happening?”

It’s all flooding with his arms being pinned beneath others. The ice is cold when his skin meets it. Legs kicks. Skates bite the air. He needs to get up. He needs….the whimper freezes everything in his soul. People are crowded around his omega. His arms rip free. People scramble. His tripping before skidding on his knees. His omega.

The medics push at him. He rips them away grabbing for his omega.

“Get him under control.”

“Where is the shot?”

“Don’t touch him. He might have a fractured spine,” some screeches loud enough in an Alpha voice that Ilya freezes before slowly touching his omega’s cheek.

“Alpha,” comes through the parted lips. “Alpha, don’t leave me.”

Ilya won’t be moving an inch from his omega’s side. The arms come again. “Let me go,” he takes a swipe.

“Get away.” Someone is shouting. They are so loud.

Laying down, he whispers, “Wake up. Omega. Omega. Please.”

The hands are tugging him back.

“That’s my omega.” He roars trying to get away. He manages to stumble. He hits into one of the medics.

“Get him a shot.” Their voices are so annoying.

He needs to stay. He roars again. People are shouting. The lights blare. He needs to keep him safe. Someone tackles him and suddenly a pinch. He needs to get back. There is scrambling. The ice burns through his legs as his shirt scrunches up as he crawls back. His body has a numbness as his hand falls back on Shane’s.

“My mate,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

His head flops. Vision blurs.

People are moving.

The growl from his chest is low and feathers out. His hand tries to cling onto Shane, but he’s being moved away. The cry out is the burn before he fully submerges from the shot.

When he wakes up, the lights screech at his face.

Shane

His body snaps only to be caught by something. He roars before twisting his head. Someone has cuffed him down. Fuck.

“Let me go. Let me go.” He screeches. He needs to find Shane. Where is he? Is he okay? How hurt is he?

The door opens with two nurses. “Calm down sir.”

“My mate,” he says before he can stop himself because that is all he can think about what he is doing.

“We will call them.”

No, they don’t understand. His alpha sobs. “Shane. He’s hurt.”

There is a traded look.

He snaps upward, but the chains keep him down. “My mate,” he screeches. “Is he okay?” He wishes there was a bond to ask.

There are traded looks before they come forwards. “You need to calm down.”

No, he doesn’t. He needs to see his mate. Shane. He needs his Shane.

“He’s okay.”

He freezes staring to a new nurse standing above him. “Yes?” Was he really? Could it be true? Would they lie to him?

“Yes, he just has a hurt shoulder.”

“You shouldn’t’ tell him,” a hiss comes from the room as if to taunt him by the cuffs chaining him down.

“And a concussion, but he is currently doing alright.”

Okay. Let’s test it. “I see him?”

“When we have visiting hours.”

He moans. He needs to see him now.

“Hey, you have to wait.”

Tears blur his vision. He couldn’t be with his mate right now. He needs Shane. He wants to be with his boyfriend. “He’s, okay?” his heart doesn’t fully believe it.

“Yes, yes he is, and he’ll want to see you as soon as he can.”

Ilya huffs before seeing something go into his IV line.

“This is just to calm down your alpha and help you a sleep a little.”

“I need to be awake,” Ilya hisses.

But he quickly loses the battle. When he wakes up again, he feels a hand on his arm. His eyes flicker open to see Yuna sitting beside his bed with David dozing beside her.

“Hey, Ilya,” she says.

“Shane?” He needs to know. Know if the nurse was lying, if it had been worse, or if it was going to be the end of everything.

“He’s okay, we just saw him, and he dozed off for a bit.”

“I missed it.” He jerks before being met with the handcuffs.

“Calm down.”

“You can still see him in a bit,” David says.

Ilya’s body shakes. His alpha needs to see his omega. To see his omega alive will be enough for him to believe.

“He’s safe, and he can’t wait to see you,” Yuna says.

“We just have to talk to the nurses,” David adds.

“Okay.” His brain keeps wanting to talk in Russia. “How bad?”

“Shane’s alright. His arm is in a brace and everything, and he does have a concussion. He’ll be recovering for a little while.” Yuna pets a hand through his hair.

“Okay.”

“You had to be sedated,” David says. “You went kind of feral on the ice.”

Feral? On the ice? Shit? Shit. Shit. Shit. He totally did. “What are they saying?”

“Everyone has their theory. You did say the words ‘mate.’” Yuna strokes.

Tears burn up. He’s outed Shane. He’s shared with the world that Shane was his boyfriend, and that he was emotionally connected to him like a mate even if they hadn’t actually bitten each other. Everything is falling down.

“It’s okay.”

But it isn’t.

“We are here supporting you,” David says.

“Take a deep breath baby,” Yuna keeps holding his hand.

“I’ve ruined us.” Shane’s worse fear is now true. They world knows. How people treat him, Ilya’s omega? Shane going down had been too much, and Ilya couldn’t keep it together. He never could. He never really could.

“No, no, you haven’t.” Yuna comforts.

“You and Shane are happy and okay. That’s all that matter,” David says.

But it doesn’t feel like it. It’s like how he would try to cook and burn it all, and Dad would yell at him for messing it up, but he’d been so hungry after practice. He’d cried. And that got yelled out. Alphas don’t cry, so said his dad. Tears burn his face. Alpha’s must be allowed to cry at times.

Yuna’s soothing voice shatters through. “It’s all going to be okay. We had plans. We have everything ready to share when you and Shane are ready. Farah is on it as well. We’ll be okay.”

Ilya just tries to nod his head. Keep it together.

He’s so happy when a nurse comes. They ask for a wheelchair, and it is brought. Part of him wants to defend himself because he can walk. He doesn’t have to have a wheelchair. But instead, he just cowers to it, and he lets them take him along. As soon as the door opens, he can smell it. His mate is in the bed. The eyes immediately flicker open. “Ilya,” he says with a dopey grin.

Ilya realizes that he’s been stopped by the door.

“Ilya,” Shane sighs.

Ilya can’t move.

Shane giggles, full on giggles. “Mom, dad, you brought Ilya.”

“We did.” Yuna moves to go give Shane a kiss on the cheek.

The nurse smiles. “I’ll leave you to it.”

The door shuts.

“Ilya.”

Ilya gets up. David grabs his elbow.

“Are you okay?” Shane gets a cute crease in his forehead.

“Yes, he’s doing alright,” Yuna says.

“What’s wrong?” Shane grunts. “Are you hurt too?”

“No, I am fine. You are hurt?”

“Not that bad. Everyone gets their bell rung eventually I guess.”

His feet seemed glue.

“Come here,” the voice begs. “Ilya. Ilya.”

“Shhhh,” he forces himself closer. When their hands meet, Shane’s eyes close, and he sighs.

“Bet-ter.”

Ilya twists with a smile. Shane doesn’t know yet. Instead, he holds onto the hand for dear life because in that moment, he has proof of Shane being okay.

Later, after he is discharged and forced to go home, it is odd being on the couch while Shane’s parents sleep upstairs, he finally checks his texts. He has many including from his coach. Great. It says call when he can. Sitting up, he clings to the blanket which is bathed in his omega’s scent. After shutting his eyes, he makes the call.

It is picked up on the third ring.

“Ilya, how are you feeling?”

“Okay,” is the only word he can croak free.

“Are you?”

“Better now. Out of hospital.”

“That good. Obviously, you aren’t playing our next game.”

Ilya rubs at his chest.

“We know that your doctors have sent us to stuff, but also want to hear from you on when you can come back.”

Ilya doesn’t want to leave Shane, but also, he loves hockey. Shane wouldn’t want him to stay behind. “I don’t know,” he admits.

“You can take a few days. We miss you, but we all understand.”

“Okay.”

“We aren’t requiring a statement about your relationship with Hollander.”

The chest squeezes again.

“Your personal business is your personal business. We have never seen you do anything that would cause concern except for when Hollander was injured and that is something we wish we had been aware to handle better, but we also understand why you didn’t let it come out.”

Ilya has to clamp everything down that he doesn’t gasp anything pitiful out.

“We are happy to help you release a statement if you would like, or we can just say that we are not commenting.”

“Not commenting,” that would be safe until he talks to Shane, and that what Yuna told him what to say.

“That works. Is there anything else we can do for you?”

He wishes he could say the thousand things on his chest. “Marlow, okay?”

“Yes.”

“I did not mean…” What was a good word?

“To hurt him?”

That would do. “Yes.”

“He understood.”

“I will text him.”

“I think he would like that.”

Ilya sighs.

“Anything else?”

“No.”

“Okay, well let’s talk again in two days and see where we are at with you coming back, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Stay safe, and I hope Shane has a good recovery.”

The call ends, and Ilya plays with his phone. This does mean he’s safe because he can’t go back to Russia. He’s got a job, and once he is mated, he can have safety in Canada. But then he’s going to be far away from Shane. The whole situation meanders through his mind until Svetlana’s name appears in a call. He doesn’t want to talk to her. But he taps it.

“Why do I have to call you dozens of times to get an answer?” her Russian flows in his ear.

“I just got my phone.” It is true, but it feels like a weed of an excuse.

The silence burns, then she sighs. “How are you feeling? Do you need me to fly to Montreal?”

“No, I have to come back to Boston,” sometime soon anyway even though he wishes he could let himself be taken caught in the web on Montreal if it meant Shane forever.

“Are you sure? I can come get you.”

He wipes his face. “I am with Hollander’s parents.”

“Really?” She doesn’t sound like she believes him.

“Yes.”

“So, they knew?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, I see.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

It isn’t anything. He’s known her for too long to believe that. “I couldn’t tell you.”

“Couldn’t you have?”

No, but maybe, but it was Shane’s secret too. If he wanted to share, he would have had to talk about Shane, and then it would have been a whole disaster, so yeah, he couldn’t really have told her. 

“We are friends, aren’t we?”

His hand catches on his curls. Everything burns his chest. His eyes want to go dry and stay that way. His body shakes. Maybe he could have talked the hospital into letting him stay with his omega. “I couldn’t tell you. Shane, it would hurt his career.”

She sighs. “I don’t have many friends, but you.”

“I don’t either.”

“I’m always here for you.”

“I don’t know how to tell him.”

“That you love him.”

His breath chokes.

“You do don’t you.”

“Yes, but I outed him.” His ribs shake against his lungs.

“Oh, Ilya.”

“He doesn’t know. He was out of it on drugs, and he was sleeping, and he doesn’t know.”

How is he going to tell him?

Svetlana does talk him through ideas, and the next day, they are told that Shane will get released. He is more with it today. Shane’s parents leave making it so that there is a chance to tell Shane, and he has to. He sits on the edge of the bed, petting at Shane’s freckles because when he sees them, he knows Shane is okay, he is alive.

 The eyes flicker before a smile perches. “Ilya, you’re here.”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Once Shane gets up and eats a little Jell-O and a nurse checks (which Ilya does move away for but it’s not like it matters), then he decides to approach the topic.

“I was upset when you were hurt.”

“I don’t remember it,” Shane whispers.

“That’s probably for the better.”

“You weren’t hurt?” The voice of his omega trembles.

“You are safe. That is what matters.”

Shane’s brow furrows. “Your upset.”

“Not at you.” He could never be mad at Shane.

“Then what?”

“Myself.”

“What did you do?” Shane pets his hand with a curious face.

A tear rises up and trembles on his eyelashes. He has to pull it away.

“You can talk to me.”

Rozanov stares sheepishly before adjusting his hands so that he is holding Shane. He shouldn’t have this privilege. “You feel. I…I could not take it. It was too much.”

Shane swallows.

“I panicked. All alpha nearly killed Marlow.”

Shane’s hands tremble under the sheets.

“I am sorry.”

“Ilya?”

“They know that we are something more than friends. I did not keep playing. I could not. You were hurt.”

Shane tugs at the sheets trying to pull them higher on his body as if that will help.

“I called you my omega again and again. My mate.”

Shane gasps.

“I…people know…I am sorry.”

“You didn’t mean to,” Shane whispers.

“I was so scared. I could not control myself. I am bad alpha.”

“No. No.” Shane grabs his hands again before taking one hand and wiping away a tear. “You are an amazing alpha. You were trying to protect me.”

“You will care when you are not so high on drugs.”

Shane laughs a little. “I will always care about my boyfriend and mate.”

Ilya swallows. This is too good to be true. This love, Ilya doesn’t deserve it.  

“Mate me?”

Ilya’s brow furrows. Did Shane just say that?

“Please, this summer, stay at my cottage, we can have a small ceremony on the dock, and you can mate me. Please?”

“Yes. Yes, Shane, yes.” They fall into kissing until the Hollanders come back into the room.

When he is discharged, the staff is nice to help them sneak out.

Ilya stares at Shane’s apartment with his parents hoovering around Shane who ducks his head. The bag is heavy. It wants to drag the floor in his hand because now that they are back it’s different. Maybe they will think he forced Shane to agree when he was on drugs. Or maybe Shane doesn’t mean it, not when he gets hit by the impact of Ilya outing him.

The media fall out. All the calls. Farah texting him but Shane having to dictate. Brands. His mom and Farah appear to be on top of it as well as a statement. Montreal put out something about not being aware and towards maybe a misunderstanding that caused Ilya to go feral and not Shane, but Shane directing Farah alongside Ilya, who nods (he does like the idea of Shane being his publicly even if his chest squeezes because it wasn’t really their choice) to put out a statement. It was his fault, so he says yes to everything. Even if Shane says it a dozen times that isn’t his fault, it is. It always will be. They start a draft of it so that they can post it in the next day or two.

Most of the world doesn’t find it shameful anymore. A few countries like Russia do. But majority don’t. The whole thing with omegas being new to hockey. American football as well as rugby were some of the few

Shane looks over. “Ilya.”

His head shifts.

“Come here.”

Yuna looks over before smiling.

“Ilya, please.” Shane is still on some pain meds and has his pouty eyes. Ilya can’t deny him anything. The hand moves out to make a grabby gesture. He forces himself closer again. “Sit.” And the Alpha does. “You smell sad.”

Ilya grabs his neck. The hospital hadn’t given him a patch. “Sorry.”

“Why are you sad?”

“I have to travel with team. Play.” Ilya tries to give that as an excuse. His brain tells him the truth. He’s harmed Shane’s reputation. Everything Shane has fought for, and now people are probably dragging him acting like he was less and didn’t deserve it just because he was dating an Alpha.

The next day, he decides to call the coach. He can fly out tomorrow morning and make the game.

“You don’t have to,” David says.

“He’s still a hockey player,” Yuna says.

“We need to have a statement,” Shane whispers wiping his face.

“I fly out tonight, and we release tomorrow morning, before I go to practice.”

It’s decided then. He hates pulling away from Shane, but he has to. At the airport, he avoids as many people as possible. Sitting in a tucked away corner. He opens up his phone and flips through social media. He shouldn’t.

They do it in the omega league, of course it end up in the major league.

How long have they been dating?

Why are neither teams commenting on their players relationship?

Where is the mating mark?

The history of alpha and omega male relationships

Has Rozanov and Hollander been throwing games?

What we know about the secret hockey relationship?

Is Hollander going to be allowed to keep playing?

Hollander is pregnant.

Ilya slams his phone, and then the tears start. Shit. He wipes his face. Shane says it’s okay, but he probably hasn’t been on his phone. It hasn’t hit how poorly things are. Mates though…they are going to be mates. Once his eyes are clamped and the breathing slows, he can only think of that. Shane said yes. They are going to be mated, and they can handle whatever the world throws at them together.

Focus on the joy, right? He has Shane. That’s all that matters.

Chapter 29: Shane - Reactions and Actions

Chapter Summary

Shane deals with his own emotions and the fallout of being outed. Some people are very supportive and others trying to shove him down.

Chapter Notes

Sorry for the delayed update. I got swept into my new fic I'm writing. Also, I had planned this to come out yesterday, but had a little bit of the AO3 curse.

Stay safe lovelies!!!!! A little emotional hurt this chapter, but Shane gets love and support. Fuck Montreal Voyagers in the books and this fic!!!!!!!! Why must they make my Shane hurt? Get that boy to Ottawa stat!!!!!

The statement they put out at seven thirty in the morning after Ilya leaves is a basic statement. It’s that they are in a relationship together and enjoy playing against each other. It also mentions Ilya’s return to the ice as well as Shane’s recovery and plan to back in the fall.

He convinces his parents to leave for at least a day. He watches Ilya on the ice. Commentors talk about them like they are some puppets. Ilya is not on his game. The Admirals are probably going to win the championship like his mom said.

The next day, Hayden comes by with Jackie. They both are supportive. Ilya has to be away for games, but Hayden doesn’t now that Montreal is out. The injury couldn’t have been helped, but Shane not there didn’t help.

“Why him?”

Jackie slaps him.

“I don’t care who Shane likes.”

Her eyebrow shoots up.

“What?”

“We are in your corner Shane,” Jackie says.

Hayden taps his chest. “I’m saying that. I don’t care who Shane likes.”

Shane wishes he wasn’t standing here for that conversation.

“You are worse than the kids.”

Hayden groans before wiping his face. “I’m sorry. I just…Rozanov…really?”

Jackie slaps his chest.

“Sorry,” Hayden squeaks.

“We are here to be supportive,” Jackie insists. “How are you?”

That’s the problem, Shane doesn’t know.

Jackie checks Shane’s phone since he can’t. You have like almost one hundred texts from Naomi.”

“Tell her to fuck off.”

Jackie chuckles and starts typing.

“Tell her I’ll call her when I can stare at my phone, or she should call in a couple days, and we can plan a hang out.”

“Done.”

They go through a few messages that Jackie selects, and then they leave the rest. The most important one is Farah. Apparently, Montreal wants to have a meeting with him. It’s probably about a statement. Ugh. Another thing that he has to deal with.

Farah picks him up the next day. He wears sunglasses, and is fighting a headache with his pain meds not doing enough for the concussion or his arm which is still in a sling. The management team wants to meet with him.

They go into a long meeting room that he’s never been in. Once he’s sat down and Farah is there.

“We are glad to hear that you are recovering well,” one of higher members says, but Shane can’t remember hername. He has a hard enough time remembering Pike’s kids’ names.

“The doctors sent over everything,” Shane asks.

“Yes,” one of the medical staff says.

“Okay, I’m got everything booked out, and I should be clear to come back next season.”

“About that.”

Farah clears her throat. “We have a negotiated contract.” They have been working on it for a while and it includes a raise.

“It is not officially signed, and the decision was that we did not have a position to sign on Mr. Hollander.”

Shane’s ears are ringing. “What?”

The board member, coach, pr, and assistant coach are all there looking at him. The coach clears his throat. “We are letting your contract go.”

Shane’s jaw ticks. “For what reason?”

“You can’t do that,” Farah says. “We negotiated a contract.”

“Mr. Hollander is a free agent. Signed for only a year. We do not have to have cause.”

“Feels targeted,” Farah snaps.

“Look now that you have an alpha….”

“You want me to break up with him?” But as he says that his whole-body shoots needles through him as if he’s just paper being torn.

“We never would request that,” someone jumps in.

“But we understand.”

What do they understand?

“Now that you have a mate, things happen. We understand, but we need players ready to go.”

“Fuck you.”

The whole room shakes. “I know you are angry,” someone says.

Shane’s hands shake. “Just cause I am an omega who is having sex doesn’t mean I’m getting pregnant. How omegaphobic are you?”

“We understand your frustrations, but you have been injured and now that you have a mated…”

“We aren’t even mated.”

The room ticks.

“Mr. Hollander.”

Shane forces himself to look. They won’t see weakness now.

“We appreciate your abilities to play, but we just don’t need you this coming season. Maybe another year.”

“Right,” and it takes every bone to walk out. His whole body is weeping because they don’t care that he’s helped them get two cups, the now four years on the team, everything about this has been thrown to the wayside. None of it matters. It can’t.

“What are the next steps?”

A tear falls as he stares out the window.

“They don’t deserve you.”

His head bows. “Maybe no one does.”

“No, no.” Farah hugs him. You are an amazing player. They are stupid for not wanting you.”

He can’t believe the nod.

“We can fight this. They promised us a contract.”

“They didn’t sign it.” Had they done this every year? They had lied about accepting it because it wasn’t official.

“We have been fighting them.”

Wiping his eyes, he stares up. “They never wanted me.”

“We could sue.”

Shaking his head, he sighs. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We can find who wants. Who deserves you.”

Shane wipes at his eyes. “What if there is no one? Maybe I just belong in the omega leagues.”

Farah puts her hand on his leg. “If you want to go to the omega leagues, I will support you, but this is something you want, and you’ve proven yourself. Giving up, would they win and think they can do it to the next omega? But is it worth your mental health?”

“If Montreal doesn’t want me, no one does.” His leg bounces.

“I would disagree with that,” she says. “Let me reach out, and we can see. Maybe try a few interviews, and if nothing feels good, we can float around with omega league.”

His brain blares. “Maybe I should stop hockey.”

“The one thing you love.”

That’s true. “I’m tired.”

“I’ll do all the reaching out. You rest. I will also deal with media and Montreal. I can post for you. You can then reach out next week, and we can plan. You are hurt. You shouldn’t have even gone.”

Shane just nods.

When he’s in the dark room, he calls his parents who are so sweet caring for him. They show up a couple hours later. He hears the door. His mom comes and sits in the bed petting at his head while her phone dimly shines. His dad moves around probably make some sort of chicken dish or make some eggs.

“What can I do to help?”

His shoulder’s barely move.

“I love you.”

He knows that, but his body feels like a limp puddle being run over and over again by cars who do not even notice or care that he splatters the frame.

“We are here for you Shane.”

“You don’t have to.”

She leans down and kisses his head. “Oh Shane. You will always be our son.”

Shane tries to turn his teary eyes up.

“I’m sorry that they mistreated you.”

“I messed up.”

“No.” His mom’s firm voice breaks through. “You didn’t. You loved someone. That’s not against you. They shouldn’t judge you.”

“What if I do get pregnant?”

“That’s for you to decide not them.” She strokes his hair. “And I’ve never cared whether I get grandchildren or not. I don’t care who you date. I don’t care what career you picked as long as you are happy.”

“You like that I chose hockey.”

Her laugh reminds him of when they would watch one of his dad’s favorite shows. “I do like that, but I would have loved you just as much if you had chosen something else.”

“Like football.”

“I would have been a terrible soccer mom.”

“Watching Montreal on the sidelines.”

“Well now I have to find a new team.”

Rolling to his back, he can see her face framed by her long hair, and the eyes peering over him.

“Because no team that throws away my son, deserves any support.”

“Mom, they are your team.” He’s taken that from his mom.

“Ottawa is a fine team.”

“You know they are losing.”

“They need a new center.”

Shane flops. “And what they start winning and can get anyone they want.”

“Their new coach is good. They already have one omega on the team.”

“I don’t want to think about it.”

“Okay.” Yuna pats his leg. “When you do, let me know.”

Shane curls up closer as if that will help. When he wakes up, his mom and dad are talking below in whispers. He fumbles his phone and squints (hoping that prevents any damage or further headache), and then taps on Ilya’s name.

Ilya picks up. “Shane?”

“Hi.” Shane pushes the phone by his face and closes his eyes so that he’s not looking at it.

“Why are you on phone?”

“I wanted to hear your voice.”

“Are you ill?”

“Did mom text you about my meeting this morning?”

“Yes, Voyagers wanted meeting, about our…love.”

“Relationship.” His heart squeezes.

“Yes, relationship. So how go?”

“They aren’t resigning me.”

“You signed contract.”

“Apparently, not filed or whatever. Farah says I could fight it…”

“They cannot do that.”

“They are though.”

“We will sue them,” Ilya shouts and then strings together curse words in Russian.

A tear slips from Shane. His alpha wanting to defend him.

“This is bullshit.” Then there were more Russian words. “I am coming over.”

“Ilya.”

“What?”

“You have to finish playing.”

“It is emergency.”

“No, I want you to finish playing.”

“You need me.”

“Yes, but you need to play hockey and then yes, come.”

“You can fight this.”

“Do I want to play for a team that doesn’t want me?”

Ilya grunts. “You are great player. What the fuck are they thinking? It is their loss. Play for Boston.”

“You don’t need a center.”

“I can convince them.”

Shane has to laugh. Someone standing up for him no matter what. Not just his parents but them and for sure Hayden and Jackie and even Naomi would too in the end. People on his side loving him no matter what.

“Everyone will want you.”

“They won’t.” Because he’s an omega and also basically mated to another player who happens to be an alpha.

“Yes, they will.”

“I’m omega, and I’m half Japanese, and I’ve basically have a mate. Everything is against me.”

“You play great fucking hockey.”

“Apparently that doesn’t matter.”

“It is only thing that matters.”

“It should be,” he sighs.

Ilya says something in Russian.

“Can we not talk about it?”

“Okay, you want phone sex?”

That does make Shane laugh.

He packs and leaves the house behind to Ottawa for a few days. Then Ilya comes out. They kiss a bit before his mom clears her throat. “Sorry.”

“No.” Ilya hugs on Shane from behind. They hang out and maybe Shane ignores messages from Farah. Talking with Naomi is both sad but also hopeful.

“We’d have your back,” Naomi says.

“Yeah.” Shane wipes his eyes.

“But I don’t think you are coming back.”

“What?”

“Someone will pick you up, and you’ll get that cup.”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you will. Get back out there.”

“Maybe.”

“I will drive up and drag you to meetings.”

He laughs at that. “You’ve grown.”

“We all go through shit, maybe I had to learn to be happy with what I have.”

“Your good at hockey too.”

Ilya and his parents decide to stay together under one roof which is nice. As they watch the Admirals playing for the Stanley Cup, they snuggle together. Then as the cup is accepted and families celebrate, Scott goes off to the side. He’s waving at the stands. Someone comes down. A man. Who is it? Scott helps him over the barrier. Ilya sits up. Shane adjusts. Scott and the man kiss on the ice.

“Wow,” Yuna says.

Later, as they follow the story, apparently, the man is an Alpha. Scott Hunter (who has in articles been referred to an Alpha’s Alpha) kissed a man and not only that another Alpha male which until a few years before had not even been allowed to marry in the US.

“Wow.”

Exactly.

“I’m going to try and sign with another team,” Shane says.

Ilya smirks. “Yes, you will. And beat Voyagers asses.”

Yuna laughs. “Amen.”

He arranges to meet Farah halfway between Montreal and the cottage. It does take insistence to go alone without anyone.

Farah stares with her coffee in hand. “Others are interested. You were the best scorer on Montreal. They are idiots for letting you go.”

“Will they actually want me?”

“Yes.”

“They know I have an alpha.”

“You are not mated.”

“But I might as well be. They see me just as a WAG now not an athlete.”

“Shane, not everyone will.”

His hands fumble against each other. “Most of them.”

“We will put feelers out. If that’s the case, we’ll figure something out.”

“What if my playing isn’t not enough?”

“It will be.”

“But what if?”

“You will find a team. Trust, okay?”

Shane wipes his face.

“And you can always play the omega league and conquer that showing them that they shouldn’t have dropped you.”

And so what, the past years are for nothing. It was just stress? They whole hockey world shaming him, refusing to give him awards, send him to the all-star game, or even acknowledge him besides an omega player. That’s all he would ever be to them. Nothing more. No matter how fucking great he was. He would just be that omega player who could score some goals, but it was just luck nothing more. They wouldn’t credit him for being amazing on its own. They wouldn’t see the training, athleticism, or even joy. No, he was just an omega who as soon as seemed less popular or too much of a risk could be tossed away.

Chapter 30: Ilya - We Are Mates

Chapter Summary

They bond!!!!

Chapter Notes

Standing at the Boston airport waiting for his omega, Ilya holds onto roses and a teddy bear with a Bears jersey so that he can give it to his mate. Shane has been visiting a few different teams to possibly sign. Sadly, Boston isn’t interested, but as a break, Shane is stopping by for a few days. Then they are both going to fly to Ottawa together to spend more time at the Hollander’s cottage before going to Shane’s apartment to start packing up. They may have to put everything in storage boxes since the next steps are in the air. Ilya still has another season with the Bears before he can decide if he’s making a move to be closer to Shane, especially since things could go either way. Here though he can tell people are turning their cameras towards him because they know. Shane flew first class. There are probably people outside, but they can slip away.

Then the door open. A few passengers slip out and then Shane steps out with his flick around until they settle on Ilya. The smile spreads. They walk to each other and hug. Shane wraps around him while the flowers brush his head. Pictures snap. Inevitable.  

“Get luggage and get out.”

Shane nods.

They hurry through the process and then get in the car. Ilya wonders if he even wants to look at the photos taken or ignore it because it is just mud in the water. The world had been easier when no one was aware of what they did.

“So mating?” Shane says once they are on the road towards Ilya’s apartment.

“You are ready?”

“Are you not?”

“No. I am ready.” Ilya is the furthest thing from that. He’s ready to be fully bonded with his omega. They would wear each other’s marks with pride, and the world would know that they planned to live the rest of their lives together.

“Are you sure?”

“I want you forever.”

Shane blushes. “Really? I do too.”

“Good.” Ilya kisses the back of his mate’s hand. “What are you thinking?”

“For tonight?”

“That too. But you saw teams. I know we text, but have things may be changed.”

“I don’t know North Carolina’s team doesn’t seem awful, and Buffalo’s coach is nice but I don’t really want to move to either.”

“I cannot believe you went to Buffalo. It is terrible.”

Shane laughs.

“I wish Boston would want you.” Ilya runs his hand along the back of Shane’s.

“It would get complicated.”

Ilya grunts. “Do not omega players who date, mated, play with each other. Against each other?”

“Apparently it’s different.”

“They lie.”

Shane rolls his eyes.

“So Canada. Did Toronto reach out?”

“No, still nothing there. But Vancouver and Edmonton both reached out, so I plan to at least interview for Edmonton.”

“See you are wanted.” And how dare anyone make his omega feel otherwise.

Shane sighs before wiping his face.

“I know, is hard, but you are second best player.”

“To Scott?”

Ilya clicks his tongue. “He beat us, kissing on ice. Do not say his name.”

“You are jealous?” Shane flicks up his eye brow.

Ilya can’t say that he’s jealous but rather lustful to have that, to have the cup and his mate publicly without as much hate. Sure, Scott was getting some hate online as well as from the sports world, but he is cheered on by most including Shane and Ilya posting together about it on Instagram. However, theirs was being treated like a horrible secret and most of the hate went to Shane not Ilya even though Ilya was equally involved.

“You are.” Shane laughs at him.

“No, no, I do not like to lose.” That’s different.

“We did get outed first.”

“Hmm, was romantic. Like novel.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“You were hurt. I went feral. I have seen this plot before.”

Shane huffs. “That would make you boring.”

“No, I am like hero. Swopping in.”

“I’m the helpless omega.”

“No.” Ilya squeezes his lover’s leg. “You are brave omega who fights no matter what. You do not need me, but I want to be here for you.”

“Nice save.” Shane leans over and kisses Ilya’s cheek.

Ilya preens at the praise.  

They pull into the garage and get inside dumping the luggage before they are on each other.

“When?”

“Right now?”

Their eyes lock.

Mating is something talked about at school, by parents, and in books as something precious. It something that once done cannot be taken back. You feel your mate more closely and if they die, it will snap the bond, and your mark with look sickly grey and jagged scars. Typically, the scares heal because of the mate’s saliva and turns into a beauty mark of love.

“Are you sure?” Shane whispers. “You can’t go back to Russia.”

“I have nothing left in Russia,” there are just two gravestones. One from someone who loved him but couldn’t hold on due to the pain in the world, and the other who only expected perfection not a son to be loved. “I only want you.”

Shane leans forwards and kisses as they tip against the kitchen wall. He picks up Shane and carries him towards the bedroom. The laughter sparkles from the omega’s lips before tipping his head to the side to kiss at Ilya’s cheek. “I love you.”

Ilya tells Shane back in Russian the words of comfort.

They walk towards the bedroom. It’s like being guided into the heart of their relationship. Slipping clothes off each other and murmuring into each other’s lips. He loves him. He loves Shane so much, no matter what they are together. His hands skate down the omegas side as he shivers. The clothes are left with panting lips preaching to each other their dark thoughts and dreams. Nibble his omega’s neck the scent floods through every pore. His mind is swept in wanting to bit him right now. Claim his love to the darkness of his chest. Their hands wrap. Raising his omegas so that he stretches beneath him.

“I love you,” Ilya says. Then says it in Russian.

“Love you so much.” Shane arches against his lips. Their hands wrap further. Their bodies arch closer. Slipping his free hand into his omega, the sound is amazing. The gasp and then tight squeal that shakes enough to rattle Ilya’s soul. His other continues to wrap around the omega’s hands.

“I want you,” Ilya says.

“I want you.”

Ilya rubs gently on the hole soothing before his finger dips. The slick pours over and into his palm in a thin line. “You are so needy.”

Shane whines.

Ilya licks up the slick until his tongue digs in. Once his omega is stretched, he rises up to keep kissing. The omega’s fingers press into his cock as he undoes the knotting condom. As it comes on, their lips press.

“Please.”

Ilya hums before kissing his omega. His hand slips away before lining his cock up. As he enters, his omega pushes down, and his body shivers. Their bodies are in sync. In and out. Panting. Gasping. Moans. Swears. They meld into one. As the knot runs, Ilya finds the part of his omega’s neck.

“I bit you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck, yes,” Shane begs.

His fangs drop, and he bits as they both come together. The blood floods into his mouth. Their pheromones bleed together.

“My omega,” He pulls off and starts licking.

When he is with it enough, he gently moves them to the side, and kisses the neck more until Shane leans over and noses his neck. “Can I?”

“Please, my love, please.”

The teeth bury into his neck, and they are bonded. They are one. It is heaven.

Ilya Rozanov is in the only heaven he needs.

Ilya holds his omega’s hand in public. Pictures are being taken, but gazes down upon Shane who glances up before shaking his head. “You are amazing,” Ilya whispers.

Shane just sighs.

“You are.” Then they walk into the restaurant ignoring those trying to press into their life. They eat at a table in the corner in the dim lights with Shane carrying his mark. And the omega’s teeth are perched on his throat in a heavenly way. They are together, which means he has safety. He can’t go back to Russia.

When they fly up to Ottawa to see Shane’s parents as well as visit the team, or Shane is visiting the team because they are interested.

Chapter End Notes

I can't believe this is coming to an end!!!

Chapter 31: Shane - Dreams Come True

Chapter Summary

Shane finally finds an open door!!!

Chapter Notes

After they leave Montreal, Ilya drives back to his parents where Shane meets with the Edmonton coach and team. They seem nice enough, but they don’t appear to have a plan to have another omega on their team for a long time. Farah is with him smiling and asking lots of questions as they tour the facility.

“Shane looks forward to continue shining on the ice,” Farah says. “As he has with Montreal.”

“Yes, we hate to see it wasted.” The Edmonton team had said.

“Many are interested in Shane.”

One of the assistant coaches then says, “Good, has he dropped the Alpha then?”

Shane turns. He has a patch on so that they can’t see the mating mark. Maybe he shouldn’t have.

When they get in the car to go to the airport, Farah sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” So many teams had brought up Ilya in some fashion as if he was a burden to Shane’s career. But it wasn’t like that. They were equals. He had no plans to get pregnant. Maybe when they are retired, they can talk about it, but pregnancy has never been something he likes the idea of. It’s hateful of them to assume. Assume that he’s going to stay home and take care of the kids. Or give up the prime of his career to bearing children. He’s not like that.

“Ottawa’s got a new coach and their management are willing to talk to you tomorrow. Are you still okay with that?”

Shane plays with his sleeves.

“They have changed multiple spots on their roster as the new coach has wanted to alter their team dynamics.”

They had already planned to fly into Ottawa together. They might as well get a hotel and go to that meeting. He messages Ilya who sent a selfie with Shane’s parents earlier with all the boxes in a storage place in Ottawa for the time being and the important boxes labeled going to his parents.

He’s moving back in with his parents. Shit. What has it gotten to? If nothing seems available that might be his only choice, unless some omega team can help him.

When he gets to the hotel, he wishes that he had asked Ilya to drive down, but soon enough Ilya was going to have to go back to Boston and needed to rest. He twists before his phone buzzes. Ilya is calling him, this late?

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yes. Come to your door.”

“What?” He tugs on his shirt before sitting up.

“You will see. There is surprise.”

His head cocks before he stumbles to glance through the peep hole. He chirps. He actually chirps before throwing up the door. “Ilya,” he gasps.

His alpha hangs up their call, and steps in kicking the door shut as they kiss.

Shane wraps into the hug and then leans against the scent gland of his mate. “You are here.”

Ilya rubs his back. “Farah called me.”

“Oh.” Shane pulls back.

“I will beat up all Edmonton players when I see them.”

Shane shudders. “They just…”

“Do not make them sound good. They are shit.”

Shane sighs and goes to his bed. The comforter puffs as he falls down. Ilya stands over him taking off his shoes and jacket before laying down.

“They are all stupid.”

“Maybe they’re right.”

“No. No.” Ilya starts kissing him. “Do you need to see pictures? Videos? Go visit the cup? You have held twice. You have award. You have best stats. They are idiots.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, very stupid. Very dumb. We will mock them when you win ‘nother cup.”

Shane rolls so that he can lean into his Alpha stroking his freckles. “I don’t know if I want kids.”

Ilya’s face scrunches. “Okay.”

“They all think because I’ve got you, I want kids and to give up hockey and…”

“What do you want?”

“I love hockey.” Shane’s chest grips. Maybe Ilya didn’t feel the same way. They didn’t really talk about kids and….

“Breath.” The hand on his chest flutters as well as one pressing to his neck. “Shane, breath, you are having panic attack.”

Shane gasps. “I’m sorry.” A tear falls. Maybe Ilya doesn’t want him because he’d pick hockey over kids, and….

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I do not need kids. I do not know if I would be good father.”

“You would be amazing.” And that’s the problem. Maybe Shane is denying him. Maybe they are all right about kids and family and Shane being a failure.

Ilya’s eyes flicker around his face. “Maybe, but we have both very busy careers. I do not want to…what do you say…leave child lots.”

“Neglect them.”

“Yes, neglect them. I am fine not having kids. Maybe never. We can talk again a few years, but I am fine if we do not.”

He picks at the cuticle of his middle finger. “What if you change your mind?”

“I want you. And I want what you want. You love hockey. I love that you love hockey. I want you to do hockey forever.”

“I can’t play hockey forever.”

“Who told you that?” Ilya shoves him down with a laugh. “Lies, you will be first.”

Shane giggles rubbing his legs against his alpha’s. “I will?”

“Yes, and if maybe you do retire because you want to give poor rookies a chance, you become coach.”

“A coach.”

“Yes, very bossy, lots of hockey stuff in mind, you do good.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Or hockey talker.” Ilya’s hands run through his hair.

“Hockey talker?” Shane giggles. That’s what they should totally be called.

“Yes, sit in nice suit on tv talking hockey as we play.”

“Commentator.” Shane manages to laugh free.

“Are you mocking me?”

“No, I’m only calling them hockey talkers now.”

Ilya huffs.

“What?”

“Yes, you do that hockey talking, I will retire to be good house husband.”

“A house husband?” He can imagine walking through the door and Ilya having made food, kept the house clean, maybe they have a cat or a dog. “Why not a coach?” Because he doesn’t want Ilya to give up on his dreams for nothing. Ilya is very good at a hockey too.

“I would be terrible coach.”

“No,” Shane pushes on his mate’s chest.

“I would drag them to parties. I would no curfew because I do not like curfew. We would do stupid twirls for fun. But I would be very fashionable.” Ilya nuzzles Shane’s wrist. “So, to save world, I will not become coach. I will be house husband. And if you changed your mind, I would take care of kid, ours or adopted or just our dogs. I am fine with just dogs.”

“Dogs?”

“Yes, I must have at least five dogs.”

“What?” That’s way too many. They would make the house filthy and the toys and stench and….

“Yes, dealbreaker.” Ilya has such a straight face.

Shane adjusts on the bed. Could he live with five dogs?

“We can start with one. And maybe, I talk you into five.”

“That’s a lot of dogs.”

“They will be very loved.”

“Yeah.”

“Yes, we will spoil them, and you will love them so much, you will even let them in the bed.”

“No.”

“Hmm, you will see. In our very big bed, we will all snuggle.”

“We don’t even live together.” That sounds hallow in his mouth.

“This is when both retire from hockey.”

“But I am still working?”

“You do not have to, but I fear you will be very bored after six weeks or so.”

“Does that mean our sex has gotten boring?”

Ilya gasps and rises up pushing Shane to bed. “Do not mock our love! Our sex is always good.”

Shane giggles as Ilya’s hands run up his side. He’s so glad that Ilya came to be with him.

Ilya drops off Shane at where the Ottawa Centaurs hockey rink. They kiss before Ilya leaves. “Text me, I will pick you up.” Ilya says he’s just window shopping, but there is a chance he comes back with at least one new outfit from it since they will have at least two hours here if it goes goods.

Farah walks in. They are guided to an office where just the Ottawa coach, Brandon Wiebe is sitting. It’s not with a bunch of members, HR, PR, and others. Instead, it is just the coach.

Ottawa’s coach hums staring at him before glancing at the papers and shuffling them before leaning back. “Mr. Hollander. Ms. Farah, good meet both of you. I’m Brandon Wiebe, head coach here at the Ottawa Centaurs.”

“Nice to meet you,” Farah says.

“Yes, thank you,” Shane forces out. He’s done this enough that he can feel the pattern.

“You want to see the ice.”

Shane peers over at Farah. “It’s up to Shane.”

“Sure.” No one has walked him there first. It’s a nice change.

“Great.” Brandon gets up. “Let me show you.” They head towards they ice; the coach starts talking. “So you are from Ottawa, right?”

“Yes, grew up here.”

“It’s a great place.”

“Calmer than Montreal.”

“Yeah, that’s true. My wife, she loves it here.”

“That’s nice,” Farah says. “Have you been here long?”

“Last was my first year here. We’re getting our feet under us.” Brandon nods before opening the door. “This is where all the fun happens.” They step towards the rink. He opens the gate to the ice, and Brandon Wiebe stands on the edge of his ice. “I’m looking to make a great team.”

Shane plays with his nose before burying his hands in his pockets.

“And I think we can do that with you on our roster. We’d love to if you feel like a good fit after today, sign you for five years.”

Shane’s jaw drops.

“We will pay you and plan bonuses if we make it the play offs with you as willing to negotiate more when we win a cup as well as an extension.”

Shane’s eyebrow shots up. This guy talks just like Ilya in the idea of whens and not ifs.

“I know my team is eager to talk to you, but I just wanted a moment to learn about you. So, Shane Hollander, ask me anything?”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I am not breaking up with Ilya Rozanov. Does that cause a problem?” He’d rather rip the band aid off now.

“None with me. I am invested in making sure my players are comfortable, and sexual life, designations, or partners. I love to meet them and make sure they feel welcome, but I don’t care.”

That’s at least good. “Do you plan to stay coaching in Ottawa?”

“I’m fine coaching here until I can’t crawl over the boards and join the fighting.”

Shane snorts picturing the coach doing that. “So, you fight?”

“Everyone glad that I don’t,” Brandon Wiebe laughs.

“Are you okay with omegas on your team?”

“Devon LaPointe has been a great asset. This past year we got closer to the playoffs than any other year. We currently have him on a four-year contract.”

“And things have gone well?”

“There were a few people upset, but we have made trades. We do not accept any omega hate.”

“Okay.” People can say that, but it doesn’t mean it’s practiced.

“And if there is ever a concern, I ask that you immediately reach out to me or one of the other coaches or even HR so that we can squash it and make sure things are welcoming to all.”

“Really?”

“Yes, may I ask you something?”

Shane nods toeing the edge of the ice.

“What would make you the most comfortable?”

Shane shrugs.

“We have really enjoyed watching you play, and we believe you could take on the captain roll.”

Shane’s head snaps up. What? What did the coach just say?

“We’d love to have you as our team Captain. You have enough experience, and we need that role filled. We also know that in the next few years we are going to be adding in new hires and trades for our team. We believe in building a good team and may be open to looking at others. We know that we already have an omega, and we have given a lot of support to Devon… Devon LaPointe, and we want to give you the same support.”

“Okay.” Shane plays with his lip. The last person that he really fit with was Hayden. JJ was great too, but when the thing about Rozanov came out, JJ hasn’t replied to one message or reached out. Only Hayden has. That’s his only friend. Maybe he wants to feel safe and have friends or at least one. Even though it’s cliché to say Devon could be his friend, at least they would both know about the challenges of being an omega in an Alpha dominated sport.

“You don’t have to tell me now, but if this gest worked out that we sign you, I want to know. I want to make sure that you are able to succeed just like all of my players.”

“I just want to love my Alpha and play hockey,” Shane says.

Coach Wiebe laughs. “I can make sure you play hockey.”

That’s what is important.

“You can make the choice. Clean starts are great, ad we are offering you one.”

“I’d like to not be some figure to make the PR better.” Because right now, Ottawa’s reputation was in the garbage because they haven’t made the playoffs in such a long time and have had multiple issues throughout the years.

“No, you are a great player. We’d love to pay you more, but…”

“Money issues,” Shane finishes.

“But we have potential. In a few years or maybe next year, we make the playoffs and then we can pay you a lot more. We may not be able to compete to the level of Montreal or Chicago or other teams, but we are able to pay decent.”

His head leans to the side wishing that it could press on a cool wall or ice just to reorganize itself.

“I am remaking this team, and with you, we can do it.”

“Would you be willing this year or next year to get another omega or more on the team?”

“Yes, absolutely. We have been looking out. There are several that we have been floating ideas about it. We want to start with you.”

“Who is anti it?”

“Two of our older members on our board, but our owner is very pro the idea. He’s actually married to an omega man, and really likes the idea of launching equality in Ottawa as well as the league as a whole.”

“Okay, so you’d trade or get one.”

“Yeah, we actually have been in discussions with a few possible additions if we don’t have funding or you don’t accept.”

“Can you send me the contract?”

The smile flutters. “Yeah, we fucking can.”

“And the team won’t mind?”

“Mind what?”

“Me taking the captain seat?”

“A new set of eyes will be good.” Coach Weibe pats his shoulder. “It’ll be great to have you on board.”

“Why don’t we talk about contract then?” Farah steps back in making Shane jump a bit.

“Absolutely. They definitely are waiting for us. Wondering why I’ve kept you away so long,” Coach Wiebe laughs.

When he leaves, Shane has a weight off his shoulders.

“Call us when you make your decision.” Coach Wiebe says after he walked them out. Shane nods as he stares at Ilya sitting in Shane’s car.

“Okay.”

Shane slips in the car. Ilya grabs his hand.

The smile blossoms as he’s wrapped in his alpha’s scent. “Well?”

“I liked it.” He really loved how it felt, and that doors opened instead of being slammed with a hateful sneer.

Ilya smiles. “And they will be good to you?”

“They want to sign me for five years with bonuses and the coach is nice and the staff seems nice and there is another omega on the team and yeah, I could really play hockey here.”

Ilya smirks. “If they are good for you and you want it, I want it for you.”

Shane squirms a bit.

“Home?”

“Please,” Shane says.

“Okay.”

Shane shares more about the visit, and then they just relax in the music. His mom is very interested as they eat and chat about it. His dad keeps mentioning how to support him. His mom mentions the cap being higher if Shane can get the Centaurs to be better and how it would be nice to have Shane close. Later, when they are sat watching the lake together, Ilya and Shane snuggle into each other.

“I am going to accept the offer,” Shane says. “After Farah and a lawyer review the contract.”

“Good.” Ilya kisses on Shane’s neck.

“Yeah?”

“You want, yes?”

“I can play hockey, and I think I’ll be safe.”

Ilya kisses his mouth before leaning on Shane. “It will be fun playing Centaurs again.”

Shane laughs.

“Next year, I free agent.”

Shane’s eyes flick over.

Ilya winks. “I join you,” his Alpha peppers kisses. You and me make Ottawa best team ever, yes?”

“Yeah, with me definitely. You? We’ll figure it out.”

Rozanov laughs. 

Shane chases the kisses, and ever since he’s been playing in the NHL, he feels truly at peace and more ready than ever to win some fucking hockey because he’s got the best team in the world and an Alpha who sees all of him and loves every part.  

THE END!!!!!!

Chapter End Notes

Ahhhhh!!!!!

I can't believe I'm done. Thank you for everyone reading this. Your comments, kudos, and love in general has meant the world. These past few months have been challenging for me, and just reading and writing in the fanfic community is so rewarding and keeps me going. I may come back and do a second fic in this series or another Ilya/Shane piece.

Now I have three story ideas that I want to work on outlining and could start in the next few months. If you like any of them, let me know. First would be an Alpha/Alpha pairing (this would be probably a one shot some sort like 5-10k). The second is a Alpha/Omega again, but I want to do some sort of Svetlana and Rose falling love as well (maybe they are both omegas and then Shane is an omega and Ilya's an Alpha, but then I feel like I've done that with this story). Lastly, I have a sci-fi story that I'm messing with, and of course, they would be enemies in some way and then secret lovers and yeah something like that.

If you want to read another work of mine, I am working on "Richer, Deeper, Our Love Becomes Sweeter" which is a throuple for Hayden, Jackie, and Cliff if anyone is interested in that.