Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Hayden Pike, Jackie Pike

Additional Tags:

Jealous Ilya Rozanov, Hayden Pike helps Ilya Rozanov commit a boyfriend heist, Eventual Smut, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Shane Hollander will be socially acceptable or die trying, Happy Ending, Crack

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-01-18 Completed: 2026-03-16 Words: 24,741 Chapters: 9/9

Shane Hollander is Dating a Nice Man From Montreal!

Summary

Shane Hollander has a secret boyfriend, and it’s not Ilya Rozanov. That’s for the best, though, because Shane’s boyfriend is absolutely perfect on paper. He’s also completely on board with the need to keep their relationship out of the press to avoid ruffling any feathers at the MHL commissioner’s office.

There’s only one problem with Shane’s boyfriend. He’s not Ilya Rozanov.

(Canon divergence where Ilya and Shane do separate photo shoots pre-rookie season and never hook up. Somehow. So then Shane has a “normal” dating life.)

Notes

Pretty much based on these sets of lines from part four of Heated Rivalry:

“I just think… if I had a normal dating life or whatever. I mean, still dating men, but not… doing whatever we’re doing. With, you know, you.”

“Weren’t there any nice men in Montreal, Shane?”
“Probably,” Shane muttered.

Also, there’s a line in The Long Game where Ilya says he can’t come out as bisexual because of his relationship with Shane, so I decided that in this canon divergence where he’s not dating Shane he outed himself in the most chaotic Ilya way possible.

Side note: I regret to inform you I am learning the rules of hockey. I’ve been streaming the PWHL games on their YouTube channel. I picked up a non-fiction book about hockey from the library. I have plans to attend a hockey game. I have never followed a sport in my life. How am I supposed to explain this to people.

Chapter 1: This is Fine!

Shane Hollander was fine. Really. He told people so on a regular basis. For instance, his best friend Hayden Pike as they finished changing after a game.

“Okay,” Hayden sighed. “If you say so.”

“We won the game. Why wouldn’t I be fine?” His hockey stick kept leaning the wrong way in his locker and he slammed it back into place with more force than necessary. He checked his phone. No messages. Made sense. His parents were in the audience, his friends were his teammates, and Ben knew he was playing a game and wouldn’t text him tonight.

“I don’t know, you get into a weird headspace sometimes when we play Ottawa. I wish the press would cut it out with that over the top rivalry narrative about you and Rozanov. You’d think they’d have found something else to move onto by now, especially after he got traded out of Boston.”

Shane shrugged a shoulder as he tossed his phone in his bag. He didn’t want to talk about Rozanov. He didn’t want to explain that he’d stared at Rozanov’s mouth a little too long once in a hotel gym, and the thought of kissing him had never entirely left his head. It still managed to pester him when they played against each other and he feverishly worried that each look he stole at Rozanov was too much, too noticeable, too full of what if, though? What if I had kissed him?

It was a bad question considering the answer was obviously, I would have ruined my entire life.

“Come over for dinner Friday,” Hayden said. “Bring Ben. We’ll crack open a fresh bottle of wine and a case of ginger ale and play Yahtzee.”

Shane didn’t know much about wine, but he was pretty sure fresh was not an indicator of quality, wine-wise. “Well you’ve lured me in with Yahtzee,” Shane said. “I’ll have to ask Ben. He might be busy.”

“We can work around no Ben,” Hayden said. “Jackie would-” He cut himself off and acted like his socks were in sudden need to attention.

“What’s her problem with Ben, anyway?”

“Nothing,” Hayden said. “What problem? Ben is fine.”

“Great. Awesome. I’ll text you about Friday.” Shane was pretty sure that Jackie did have a problem with Ben, but it was so covered in politeness that it was difficult to complain about. Besides, Hayden was the only one of his teammates that acknowledged Ben’s existence at all.

It wasn’t that Hayden was the only one who knew. Ben was only mildly secret, at best. A year ago Shane had gotten a little too careless about mentioning his boyfriend, apparently, because the MHL commissioner had invited him to talk then made a few pointed comments about not wanting a media circus. The commissioner hadn’t said he didn’t want another Rozanov, but he’d kind of implied he didn’t want another Rozanov.

Ilya Rozanov had come out in spectacular fashion when an entertainment site had published a photo of him grinding on some random man in a club with the headline “Ilya Rozanov gay???” If it had just been that one trashy article on a site no one took seriously, the whole thing probably would have blown over. Rozanov, though, had gone on some kind of social media bender and reposted the article with “FUCK YOU, I’M BISEXUAL” and “I FUCKED YOUR MOM AND YOUR DAD.”

Boston had immediately published a statement about their support of diversity and inclusion in hockey, and then they’d traded Rozanov to Ottawa as quickly as possible.

Based on how soon after Rozanov’s father’s death the incident had occurred, Shane suspected a mix of grief and alcohol was involved. No one ever said anything about it, though, so Shane didn’t, either.

When it came down to it, Shane Hollander was not Ilya Rozanov. Shane had agreed that the last thing he wanted was to make waves. Shane would hold himself perfectly still for as long as it took to avoid making a single wave. So Ben was known to everyone in Shane’s personal life, and completely unacknowledged in the press. Shane did not bring him up in interviews, mention him in award speeches, or ask for him to have any of the same privileges as the WAGs.

Jackie had attempted to intervene on Ben’s behalf several times and offered to introduce him to the WAGs, but Ben had always declined. Maybe that was why Jackie didn’t like Ben? No, that would be a ridiculous thing to hold a grudge over. Ben’s disinterest in being involved in the hockey part of Shane’s life was what made their relationship work. It kept everything tidy and easy to compartmentalize. So easy to compartmentalize that Shane had to admit he forgot he had a secret boyfriend half the time.

Shane reached his apartment with a feeling of deep relief. He was glad he lived close to the arena, both to get to practice more quickly and so he could collapse on days like this.

“Hey, Hollywood,” Ben called from the kitchen when Shane walked in the door.

Shane paused. Ben rarely ever stopped by on weekdays, and especially not on game nights. Shane tried to mentally restructure his evening in his head and felt even more exhausted. The aroma of Ben’s go-to salmon and rice recipe drifted out of the kitchen. Shane was lucky to have a boyfriend who liked to cook, he told himself. He stepped into the kitchen and focused on how very lucky he was as Ben flashed him one of his dimples in a quick smile.

If there was such a thing as boyfriend stats that Shane could break down, Ben would have a near perfect score across the board. Even if Shane’s relationship did ever wind up on a front page someday, no one could possibly have a problem with Ben. He was as vanilla ice cream as it was possible for a human being to be: sweet, but not cloying; rich, but not excessively so; nice, but not virtuous in an annoying way; thoughtful, but not clingy. Shane’s relationship was so normal it was outright boring. They’d even had their own meet-cute.

Shane had been at a photoshoot for some ad that had required way too much water and too little clothes, and when he’d gotten lost looking for somewhere to refill his water bottle (because they had plenty of water to spray on his shirt but none for him to drink), he’d run into Ben.

“I’m not usually dressed like this,” Shane had said.

“I hate to tell you this,” Ben had said, “but I was at the meeting for the ad campaign and I know why you’re dressed like that.”

“I’m sorry, this outfit was your idea?”

“No, no.” Ben had held up his hands in mock innocence. “I actually argued against the what if Shane Hollander takes off his clothes pitch. I said we should get Rose Landry and do a superhero thing. Now that I’m here, though, I have to admit I suddenly see the appeal in Shane Hollander taking off his clothes.”

Shane had laughed, and Ben had given him his phone number, and the story charmed at parties. Even Jackie had been delighted the first time she’d heard it, back before she’d met Ben and done an abrupt one-eighty on her opinion of him. Which was absurd, because Ben was a perfect boyfriend.

“Did you catch the game?” Shane asked, not entirely sure whether he was reminding Ben that there had been a game or not.

“No, I’ll watch the next one. Did you win?”

You didn’t even check the score. Shane made himself smile. This was fine. “Yeah. Salmon?”

“Thought I’d make us something to eat before we go out to get drinks with Marissa. Don’t think the bar she chose has anything you’d eat there.”

See? Thoughtful. Shane took a deep breath. “I didn’t know we were going out for drinks with Marissa tonight?”

“It’s on the calendar. Hollywood, I mentioned it to you twice last week.”

Shane glanced at the fridge and yes, it was on the calendar. Noted right there beneath the game against Ottawa. Shane had been so focused on playing against Rozanov that he’d forgotten. Unlike Ben, Shane was a shitty boyfriend.

“Okay,” Shane said. “Drinks. Great. How late do you think we’ll be out?”

Ben let out an annoyed breath.

“I’m not going to leave early,” Shane said quickly. “Just, you know. Calibrating.”

“It doesn’t need calibrating,” Ben said. “It’s just a fun night out with a friend.”

Shane nodded, even though it did need calibrating. He would need to mentally rearrange his entire night in his head over dinner. But that wasn’t Ben’s problem, of course.

“And can we please not talk about hockey tonight while we’re out with Marissa? There are other topics of conversation that exist in the world.”

Shane closed his eyes briefly. “Yeah. I can manage that.”

He couldn’t manage that.

He spent fifteen minutes perusing the drinks menu looking for something that was non-alcoholic yet would still be considered a “drink” while his boyfriend and Marissa chatted about office gossip and Shane contributed nothing at all. He ordered a near-beer with a name confusing enough he hoped no one would notice it wasn’t an actual beer. He continued failing at adding a single word to the conversation as they discussed the weather, Marissa’s in-laws, and streaming services causing the death of day time TV. Finally, in a clear bid to include Shane in the conversation, Marissa asked him about Montreal’s chances of winning the cup this year and Shane was so relieved that he started rattling off variables until Ben gave him a Look.

So. The night wasn’t going well.

And then the cherry on fucking top dropped when Ilya Rozanov walked in with his Ottawa teammates Wyatt Hayes and Zane Boodram. Shane wished he had a menu to comically hide behind, but he wasn’t sure it would have done him any good since Rozanov had clearly already clocked him by the time Shane noticed he was there. Shane’s hopes of being ignored died as Rozanov leaned insolently against the booth where Shane’s party was sitting.

“Hollander,” Rozanov said.

“Oh, sorry,” Marissa said. “Are you Shane’s friend?” Her eyes widened when she recognized him a beat later. “Rozanov, isn’t it? You know, I’ve always been a big Ottawa fan, painful as that is to say. I was thrilled when I saw you’d joined the team.”

“Happy to be here,” Rozanov practically purred. He couldn’t possibly mean that, Ottawa sucked.

“Sorry,” Ben said. “I don’t really follow teams other than Montreal that closely. You play hockey like Shane does?”

“No one plays hockey like Hollander does.”

“He’s on the team we beat tonight,” Shane said. He tried to shoot Rozanov the most vicious smile he could manage, but it clearly failed because Rozanov grinned. Shane wanted to fall into the floor and never be seen again.

“You could have told me you were texting your friends to join us.” Ben’s voice had a hint of disapproval.

Fuck, he thought Shane had planned this mess? “I didn’t text them. It’s just a coincidence.”

“Not coincidence,” Rozanov said. “There was a post on Instagram saying Hollander was here and I thought, must be a good bar.”

Of fucking course someone had posted it. There was nothing incriminating about any photos that could possibly come from this night, though. It would just look like three friends at a bar. Publicly, that was all Ben was. Shane’s long time friend that he was frequently spotted with, but always at a safe distance. There was nothing scandalous about having a friend.

“It is a great bar,” Marissa said. “Did you want to join us?”

Shane felt like he was watching a disaster unfold in slow motion, but he didn’t possess the quick thinking social skills required to make it stop. “I’m sure he wants to sit with his teammates,” Shane tried.

Sweet, kind Ben said, “They could move over one of the tables to add to the booth.”

Rozanov lit up like wrecking Shane’s night had just made his entire week. Tables and chairs were rearranged, introductions were exchanged, and Shane somehow wound up with Rozanov sitting next to him in the booth, Ben and Marissa across from him, and Hayes and Boodram sitting at the two-top table extension they’d made. A sane universe should not allow Ben and Rozanov to exist in the same room, let alone share drinks together. Even worse, Shane found himself being drawn into the conversation about the constant traveling required during hockey season.

“I think I’ll keep my nine-to-five,” Marissa said. “I’d go crazy being away from home that much. How do your wives manage it?”

“Cassie’s a superstar,” Boodram said. “All the WAGs are.”

“I think the acronym needs updating,” Hayes said. “What if Roz gets a boyfriend? What would we call him? WAGAB? WABAG?”

For some reason, Rozanov looked right at Ben and opened his mouth.

“I think it’s SOAP,” Shane said before he’d have to exist in a world where Rozanov had asked Ben which acronym he preferred. “I’ve heard it used in women’s hockey.”

“SOAP?” Hayes said. “I hate that. I prefer WAGAB.”

“Not like Roz is getting tied down anytime soon,” Boodram said. “Unless Svetlana decides to drag him to the alter.”

“Who’s Svetlana?” Shane asked. Fuck, did he sound churlish? He was literally sitting right across from his actual secret boyfriend. Rozanov’s dating life was irrelevant to him.

“My best friend,” Rozanov said. “But I think her girlfriend would take issue with me trying to marry her.”

“Good,” Shane said. “I mean, good for her.”

“Rozanov.” Ben clicked his fingers. “I remember that name now. You’re the one with the social media scandal. That’s why I always say nothing good ever happens on social media. Might as well not even have an account. Shane’s agent manages his.”

“But how will I upset the entire hockey world at once if I don’t use Twitter?” Rozanov asked.

“It’s not that hard,” Shane said. “Ruin their playoff brackets then make out with a man on the ice.”

Hayes blinked. “Was that a joke? Is Hollander funny?”

“He’s always been funny,” Rozanov said. “One time in Tampa-”

“Shhhh.” Shane kicked Rozanov’s foot under the table in a panic.

Rozanov rolled his eyes. “Fine, it’s a secret that Hollander is funny. Don’t tell anyone or else he’ll have to kill you.”

“Asshole,” Shane muttered.

“I think we’re cutting Hollywood off,” Ben said when the waiter reappeared to refill their drinks. “How many of those have you had, anyway?”

Shane realized he’d forgotten he had a secret boyfriend again.

Rozanov’s face spasmed with contained laughter. “You’re cutting Hollander off from fake beer? Hollander, are you drunk on fucking grape juice?”

“Fuck off,” Shane said, but it was too late. Ben was looking more closely at the labels on the bottles now, his brow furrowed. Fuck my entire life. Ben had asked for this one night out and Shane had managed to ruin it on every level.

“Hollywood? That’s cute,” Boodram said.

“Ben found out about hockey nicknames and thought I needed one.” Shane hoped it wouldn’t catch on. The one good thing about Montreal ignoring Ben was that they hadn’t picked up on the nickname yet.

“Can Ben make me up a cute hockey nickname?” Hayes asked.

“Not unless you also-” Ben seemed to recall who he was talking to just in time. “I only made one up for Shane because he’s a good friend.”

“I need a cigarette,” Rozanov announced abruptly and left the table.

Hayes and Boodram drifted off shortly after that, as if Rozanov had been the only thing tethering them to the table. Or maybe they weren’t strong enough to withstand the force of Ben’s polite disapproval without their captain.

Marissa sipped at her martini. “Well, they were loud. There should be a word for a group of hockey players in the wild. A chaos racket, maybe. You’re lucky, Ben. You snagged the only quiet hockey player known to man.”

“I know.” Ben shot Shane a smile. “Do you ever get tired of that, what do you call it, when the other players shout nonsense at each other?”

“Chirping,” Shane said.

“It’s like hockey is a game played by ornery toddlers,” Ben said. “I’m glad you’re not like the rest of them. You could always quit and be a model.”

He had to be teasing. If he wasn’t teasing it would be painful, and Shane couldn’t let himself interpret it that way.

“I’d rather stick with hockey. I need some air.” He got up and made it away from the table before Ben could protest. It wasn’t the first time he’d slipped outside at a noisy bar when Ben had dragged him out for drinks. Ben would no doubt give him a long suffering sigh about it when Shane got back.

It was quiet outside, and the air had an icy bite to it. Shane had assumed Rozanov would have left by now, but it felt inevitable that he was leaning against the gross brick wall idly smoking a cigarette.

“Those things will give you lung cancer.”

“Yes. I’ve heard that before somewhere.” Rozanov took another negligent puff of smoke into his lungs. “Your boyfriend seems boring. Is too much boring in one relationship. You’ll get halfway through kissing and fall asleep.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” Shane said automatically, because Ilya Rozanov sure as hell wasn’t part of the circle who Shane allowed to know his secrets.

“Okay. Your very good friend you take romantic trips to Finland with.”

Shane blew out a breath and watched it mist in the air. That fucking Canadian tourist with a camera had posted those pictures all over Twitter. Luckily most people had dismissed it out of hand as traveling abroad with a friend. “That’s a deep cut, Rozanov. Are you stalking me?”

“Stalking you? Why would I need to? You’re everywhere, Hollander. You’re on the fucking billboards. Impossible to talk about hockey online without someone bringing you up. Even Instagram thinks if I like hockey I must want to watch a million videos of Shane Hollander scoring goals.”

“Score a million goals and maybe Instagram will like you better.”

“Hah.” Rozanov aggressively puffed on his cigarette. “Everyone knows the internet only cares about who is prettiest, Mr. Voted Most Handsome Man in the MHL Three Times in a Row.”

“Those polls are bullshit and you know it. Can we just- can we not do this right now? I’ve had a long day and I can’t-” Shane gave up and leaned against the disgusting wall as he took a deep breath of frigid air.

Rozanov took a step towards him then stopped. “Do you need me to get your… Ben?”

Shane scrubbed a hand across his face. “No. He doesn’t need to think he’s dating even more of a fuckup.”

“He knows he’s dating Shane Hollander, yes? He doesn’t think he’s dating a fuckup.”

“You’re not the one who has to put up with me. If I ruined your social life on a regular basis and made you fold the fitted sheets correctly you’d be sick of me, too.”

Shane didn’t look up, but he heard the scuff of Rozanov crushing his cigarette with his shoe. “I’d love to learn how to fold fitted sheets. Is like wrestling a bear that eats all my pillow cases until I give up, roll it all into a ball, and stuff it in the closet.”

Shane finally turned to look at him in horror. “Taking the pillowcases out and ironing them is step zero!”

“You iron your pillowcases?”

“It makes them crisp!”

“And Ben doesn’t like crisp pillowcases?” Rozanov flinched a little bit at his own words, which didn’t make sense.

“Ben would prefer I just… cared less.”

“I don’t like Ben.”

This couldn’t be fucking happening again. “Join the club. Jackie Pike would love to have you.”

“Your boyfriend has an anti-fan club? Is there a group chat?”

“No. It’s nothing. Ben is fine.” Shane realized a beat too late that this was not the correct way to describe his own boyfriend. “I mean, I’m fine. Everything is… I have to go.”

“Hollander,” Rozanov called after him, but Shane ignored it. He needed to get back to his normal secret relationship with his normal boyfriend. The only thing Rozanov was calling him towards was disaster.

Chapter 2: The Breakup Plan

Chapter Summary

Shane and Ben go to dinner at the Pike's. It doesn't go well.

Chapter Notes

It's the Hayden POV chapter!

Hayden Pike wondered if having a French name alone was enough to make a dish qualify as fancy. He thought probably not, because French junk food must exist, and then he tried to remember if baloney was French.

“We still need wine glasses,” Jackie said, and Hayden grabbed them to add to the table. Ruby had decided she wanted Uncle Shane coming over for dinner to be a fancy occasion this week, so the girls were decked out in costume dresses and tiaras. Hayden was wearing his suit with a glitter crown and a tutu because this meant he was the faerie queen and not a faerie princess, apparently. The costuming rules declared by the twins were both cryptic and contradictory. Jackie had been declared an honorary mouse. The meaning of this was unclear, but Jackie had used an eyeliner pencil to draw whiskers on her cheeks.

Hayden had texted Shane to inform him the twins had assigned Shane the role of nutcracker prince, because Hayden couldn’t have gotten through those words out loud. Shane had texted back that Ben had decided to come with him, which Hayden could have done without, but he wasn’t going to say so. He had invited Ben, after all, and he was continuing to give Ben the benefit of the doubt.

Jackie had taken a different approach. As soon as the door had closed behind Ben the first time he had visited with Shane, Jackie had leaned back against it and said, “I don’t like Ben.”

“He seems nice!” Hayden said, doing his best to find a positive.

“Did Shane seem happy to you?”

Hayden hesitated. Not really. But if there was one thing Hayden believed in, it was reserving judgement. “Shane was probably just nervous about introducing his boyfriend. I’m sure it’ll get better.”

Jackie sighed. “I hope you’re right.”

If anything, it got worse. Shane’s fake media smile made increasingly more frequent appearances whenever Ben was around. Hayden reminded himself that he had no idea what their relationship was like behind closed doors.

“You call that a costume?” Hayden asked when he opened the door to find Shane and Ben there in normal suits.

“I was hoping you would have a tiara,” Shane said with a hint of a genuine smile. “I didn’t want to buy one just for this.”

Ben frowned. “You said formal.”

“I said fairytale formal,” Hayden corrected. “I was very specific.”

“What is fairytale formal?” Ben asked impatiently.

“Whatever the twins say it is.”

Ben looked put upon. Hayden was unfairly pleased about it.

Hayden fetched Shane a tiara and tiny cape that met Ruby’s approval, Ben outright refused to add any fairytale accouterments to his attire, and they settled down for dinner. Jackie poured wine for the adults and juice for the children. She would’ve normally grabbed a ginger ale for Shane, but Ben was over so she went through the motions of pouring Shane a glass of wine that he was never going to drink. If Hayden was being honest, he knew exactly why Jackie didn’t like Ben.

Jade demanded speeches before they could drink, because she’d seen it in a movie. Jackie made up a story about a unicorn princess on the spot, because she was brilliant. Hayden managed some words about the power of friendship, then Shane gave a speech that was a repeat of one he’d given in the locker room with a few words swapped to make it about defeating dragons instead of opposing hockey teams. It made very little sense, but the children nodded along enthusiastically. Ben simply said, “I know a great babysitter. I could give you their number. Shane and I could even host you for dinner next time.”

“No, it’s great having the kids here,” Shane said.

Jackie took a slow sip of wine, and Hayden could almost hear her counting down from ten in her head. There were plenty of people in the world who didn’t like kids, and Hayden understood that, but Shane would love having kids and Hayden worried that if he stayed with Ben he was going to “compromise” by not having them.

After dinner there was a course of invisible tea and plastic baked goods served by the twins, then it was the children’s bedtime. Hayden reluctantly whisked them off to sleep, put away the fairy tale costumes, and returned with the Yahtzee. The consequences of letting the children stay up past their bedtime would not quite have been worth the benefit of further annoying Ben.

The conversation turned inevitably to hockey and the recent game they’d played against Ottawa.

“The Ottawa players were the ones we ran into at the bar, right, Hollywood? They were… interesting. I can see why that Russian one is always getting into trouble.”

“Ilya Rozanov,” Shane corrected. He focused much harder on the dice in front of him than Yahtzee required. “He’s not that bad. I mean, he’s a good guy underneath all the chirping.”

“Deep, deep underneath,” Hayden said. “With a pile of rocks on top to make it more difficult to get there.”

“You’d like him if you talked to him.” Shane marked down his score and passed the dice to Jackie.

“Would I?” Hayden let it drop there, because this was not the time or place to be teasing Shane about his obvious crush on Ilya Rozanov. To be fair, it wasn’t obvious to anyone who didn’t know Shane and wouldn’t recognize the puppy dog eyes he was always staring at his supposed arch-nemesis with.

And then there were the All Star games. Hayden had never been invited, but he’d heard Wyatt Hayes mention once that Shane and Rozanov spent them sitting together and bickering every chance they got. Zane Boodram had once skated up to Hayden while the pair were arguing during warmups before an Ottawa versus Montreal Game and asked Hayden, “Is that a rivalry or just a really weird friendship?”

Hayden personally thought it was a mix of Shane’s unrequited crush and Rozanov’s need to simultaneously rage-bait and flirt with everyone around him, but he kept that to himself. Anyway, it was harmless. Shane was clearly capable of dating other people so it wasn’t like he was pining away for want of Ilya Rozanov, and Shane’s crush was never going to be returned because he wasn’t Rozanov’s type.

It was impossible to miss the constant flurry of photos of Rozanov out at clubs, always with a different partner. The partners Rozanov picked up all seemed to be wild, carefree partier types like himself. Not one of those words described Shane.

Hayden had once called Shane on a Saturday night and found out Shane was inventorying what wattage of bulb each of his light fixtures required to make the lightbulbs easier to replace. Ilya Rozanov was never going to spend his Saturday night inventorying small household appliances, and there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever be interested in dating Shane.

“Didn’t you two go to a concert last week?” Jackie asked. “How was it?”

Hayden shot her a grateful look for the subject change. For some reason, Shane focused even harder on the game of Yahtzee and it wasn’t even his turn.

“I ended up going on my own,” Ben said. “It was too bad Shane couldn’t make it, because the show was excellent.”

“Couldn’t make it?” Hayden was sure there hadn’t been a hockey game that night.

“I don’t think we need to tell this story.” Shane straightened the score cards into neater stacks.

Ben shrugged. “His phone charger broke or something and he was being Shane about it, so I told him to sleep it off and went on my own.”

Hayden slowly set down the dice he’d been about to roll as he read between the lines on that and his benefit of the doubt died an ugly, brutal death. “You…” Hayden reminded himself that this was not the rink, and Ben was not a hockey player, therefore it was morally unacceptable to punch him in the face. “You ditched Shane while he was having a panic attack because you wanted to go to a concert?”

“It wasn’t over anything important, and the tickets were non-refundable.”

“I wasn’t having a panic attack,” Shane said defensively. “I was fine.”

Jackie was still frozen in place, and Hayden realized that of the two of them she was currently the most likely to punch Ben in the face. “We should get these dishes cleared.” He grabbed Jackie’s arm to tow her to the kitchen.

“And we should head out,” Ben said. “It’s getting late.”

Hayden gathered up dishes as the door closed behind them and carried them into the kitchen. Jackie leaned against the counter, her expression still distant. Hayden broke the silence first. “We’re getting rid of Ben, right?”

“Hayd. We’re prying that motherfucker off Shane like a leech.” She shoved a dollar in the swear jar, making it one of very few that wasn't from Hayden.

“I’ve still got the gameplay whiteboard in my office,” Hayden said.

“Good. We’re going to need a Shane Hollander level multi-step plan.”

Hayden grabbed the mostly full bottle of wine. It was going to be a long night.

Plan A: At Least Try Talking to Shane First

They had judged Plan A as having the lowest likelihood of working, but it still felt like a first step they’d be remiss not to include, so Hayden walked with Shane through the parking lot after practice and broached the subject.

“I don’t think Ben is a good boyfriend for you.” He hadn’t thought of a more delicate way to say it, and Shane had a blindspot for subtleties anyway.

Shane stopped walking. “I thought you were on my side on this.”

“Buddy, I am always Team Shane, but Ben? Don’t you think you could do better?”

“He’s my boyfriend, not a trading card I’m trying to swap for the best one. Besides, Ben is a great boyfriend.”

“Are you… sure?”

“He’s respectable. He’s handsome. He has a good job. He cooks. He’s well liked by many people except my closest friends and enemies, apparently. He’s polite-”

“He’s an asshole,” Hayden snapped. “And not in a fun way. He thinks dating you impresses his friends and he doesn’t give a fuck beyond that.” He shouldn’t have said anything that harsh and he knew it, but fuck, it was true.

Shane glared at him. “You’re speculating because you don’t like him. Drop it, Hayden. I’m not dumping Ben.”

“Fine.” Hayden held up his hands. “Consider it dropped.”

He was lying.

Plan B: Stalk Ben on Social Media

Ben didn’t have many public social media accounts, but he did have a Facebook page and a LinkedIn. After the kids went to bed, Hayden scrolled through years worth of sparse Facebook posts while Jackie tackled LinkedIn. Based on Jackie’s frustrated grumbling, Hayden had gotten the better end of this deal.

“Anything?” Jackie asked.

“He reposts recipes? Is that anything?”

“No.” Jackie sighed. “It turns out Ben’s an obnoxious hustle culture fanboy, but I don’t think we’re going to get Shane to break up with him over his LinkedIn posts. Do you think Ben has any secret accounts?”

“Probably, but how would we find them?”

Jackie turned her attention back to her phone. “Hold on, I think I found his Reddit.”

Hayden perked up. “There has to be something on there, right?”

Jackie set her phone down with an air of resignation. “No. More recipes. That man has one hobby.”

“This isn’t working. I think we have to try Plan C.”

Plan C: Cause a Fight

Shane and Ben were one of the most conflict averse couples Hayden had ever met, which meant he was convinced a single big fight would break them up.

“It needs to be the armageddon of fights,” Jackie had said. “A hundred small grievances exploding all at once.”

Hayden felt kind of bad about sabotaging his best friend, but it was for a good cause. He started by pickpocketing Shane’s contacts from his gym bag because he knew Shane was going out to dinner with Ben later, and every time Shane used his glasses to read the menu Ben liked to complain about technology advancing the human race past the need for glasses.

A few hours later when Shane texted to ask if Hayden had seen his contacts, Hayden replied back, Maybe they fell out of your bag in the locker room? I’m sure you’ll find them tomorrow. The lying made him feel even guiltier, but the plan carried on.

The next day Hayden managed to get Shane to make good on inviting them over for dinner at Shane’s place sans kids, and Jackie had gotten Shane’s parents added to the invitees as well.

“Yuna Hollander is our secret weapon,” Jackie explained. “She won’t say anything, but she can’t stand Ben.”

So Jackie and Hayden showed up at Shane’s door that night with an agenda of chaos to enact.

Hayden hung up his coat, lined up his own shoes at the door, then nudged Ben’s shoes out of alignment. When Hayden excused himself to the bathroom he’d been intending on finding Ben’s socks in the laundry hamper to throw on the floor, but he couldn’t find a single article of clothing belonging to Ben anywhere, so he had to give up on that one.

Hayden checked the score of the hockey game on his phone obnoxiously at the table and tilted the screen towards Shane when he glanced longingly at it.

“Still zero to one,” Hayden said loudly, earning them both a glare from Ben.

Jackie brought up grandchildren to Yuna at every possible opportunity, causing Shane to make sad eyes at Ben while Ben’s mouth hardened into a barely friendly line.

In a stroke of pure genius, Hayden said, “We should turn on some music. Maybe a Bad Bunny song?”

“What did the bunny do wrong?” Shane asked.

“For the love of god, Hollywood, at least learn to pretend you’ve heard a song before.” Ben stalked over to the sound system.

Yuna leaned over to the Pikes and whispered, “I would never interfere in my son’s love life, which is why I will not tell you to get Ben to load the dishwasher.”

Jackie’s eyes lit up. Secret weapon, she mouthed to Hayden. Hayden assumed the difficult part was going to be convincing Ben to go anywhere near the dishwasher, because he had to know better than that.

It ended up being easier than Hayden had thought. He began picking up dishes after the meal and cheerily said, “We’ll help you clean these, Ben.” David sidetracked Shane with a question about video streaming to keep him from following them into the kitchen.

“I’ll hand them to you if you load them,” Jackie told Ben.

“Shane usually…”

“I don’t want to pile them on the counter,” Jackie said.

“Ugh, it’s just some dishes. I’m sure it’s fine.” Ben began haphazardly shoving plates onto the top rack as if he didn’t fear death. By the time Shane made it into the kitchen, Ben was cramming cups right side up onto the bottom rack.

“What are you doing?”

“The dishes,” Ben said.

Jackie and Hayden escaped back to the dining area and made it to the table before the shouting match started.

“We might’ve gone too far with that one,” Hayden said. “We’re not actually trying to murder Ben, right?”

“Do you have a next step to your plan here?” Yuna asked. “They fight, then what?”

“Uh,” Hayden said.

Ben stormed out of the kitchen and slammed the door on his way out of the apartment.

“Seems to have worked?”

“For an hour, maybe. You need a follow up plan.”

Shane reappeared with a plastered on smile. “Ben forgot he needed to run to the bank before it closes.”

The night got significantly better after that as they broke out a deck of cards and the Hollanders collectively got way too competitive over a game of go fish.

“Follow up plan,” Yuna quietly reminded the Pikes as they left afterwards.

They still hadn’t come up with a follow up plan when Yuna texted them a few hours later. We have a problem. Ben came back and he’s hinting about an engagement ring.

“Fuck,” Hayden said, then paid the swear jar.

“I think it’s time to try our wild card.”

“Jackie, I was wasted when I wrote that.”

“It was a good idea. It’s the best chance we’ve got at this point.”

Hayden didn’t have any more cash in his pocket, so he didn’t swear, but he wanted to. Their wild card wasn’t even a plan, it was just two words Hayden had scrawled across the bottom of the whiteboard: Ilya Rozanov.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you so much for all the comments on the first chapter! I am having so much fun with this. Next chapter is the Ilya POV chapter. :)

Chapter 3: The Wild Card

Chapter Summary

Hayden Pike attempts to execute the wild card plan. Ilya Rozanov has some alternate ideas on how it should go.

Chapter Notes

I think the end notes are broken so I'm writing a beginning note instead? Anyway, thank you again for all your kind comments, they are fueling me through these frozen times! (The weather has trapped me in my house. If I post another chapter on Monday it probably means my work is once again cancelled and I am still trapped here in my blankie pile.)

Hey, it’s Hayden Pike

Ilya Rozanov stared at the inexplicable text message that had just appeared on his phone.

I got your number from Wyatt

That did not answer a single one of his questions.

Rozanov?

Ilya was at his house in Ottawa because it was the morning before their game against Montreal and his phone was clearly broken because Hayden Pike was texting it.

Ilya: Why

Hayden: Can I come over? I got to Ottawa early to talk to you

Ilya: No

Hayden: I’d really prefer to talk in person

Ilya: Why would I talk to you

Hayden: I need a favor

Ilya: No

Hayden: Wyatt said I should bring treats for your dog Anya? I can do that. I really need your help for something with Shane

Ilya started typing No and then deleted it. He focused too long on the words something with Shane. Anya ran around his feet and barked, waiting to get his attention back. He had a few hours left before he’d been planning on heading to the arena. He could manage one conversation with Hayden Pike. He texted over his address then took Anya out to run around the yard while he waited.

When Pike showed up a short time later, he looked more nervous than Ilya had ever seen him before. “I thought you’d have a place downtown. Closer to nightlife and all that.”

“What nightlife? This is fucking Ottawa. And yard here is better for Anya.” Anya wiggled excitedly in his arms, probably because Pike was carrying a bag of dog treats.

“What do you do with her when you’re on the road?”

“She stays in a dog hotel. What are these questions? Get to your point. Don’t you have twelve kids to be taking care of right now?”

Pike bristled. “I have four kids, it’s not that many.”

“Okay.”

“So can I come in?”

Ilya stepped back reluctantly and let Hayden Pike into his house. He set Anya down and Pike kneeled on the floor to give her a treat and scratch her ears. Ilya refused to let it endear him to Hayden.

“You said you needed a favor.”

“Um, yeah.” Hayden sat down on the couch. Ilya took a seat directly across from him and crossed his arms. “I’ve been trying to convince Shane to dump his, umm, his girlfriend. He’s, umm, I mean she’s not really good for him.”

As funny as it would be to let Hayden continue stumbling through pretending Hollander had a girlfriend, Ilya decided to put him out of his misery. “You mean his boyfriend, Ben.”

Hayden’s eyes widened. “How did you know that? From meeting one time at a bar?”

“Is obvious, and I am perceptive.” In truth, Ilya had not learned about Hollander’s boyfriend from internet rumors or observations. He hadn’t needed either of those things. He knew about it because Hollander had gotten black-out drunk at the last All Stars game and told Ilya about it himself. Ilya wasn’t sure if Hollander had completely forgotten about it afterwards or been too embarrassed to ever bring it up again. Ilya’s money was on forgot, though he wouldn’t blame Hollander if the answer was sheer embarrassment.

It had been a pretty idiotic moment of over competitiveness, even for Hollander. A few of the guys had started a drinking game at the bar, and Hollander had gone down three shots in because he did not drink often enough to have the kind of alcohol tolerance required for a competitive drinking game. There hadn’t been anyone else around to babysit a drunken Hollander because Hayden fucking Pike wasn’t talented enough to get himself an invite to an All Stars game, and Ilya had worried that if no one kept an eye on Hollander he was liable to walk himself into the pool and drown.

So Ilya had scraped Hollander off the floor, gotten him a glass of water and some food to absorb the alcohol, and listened to Hollander slur out some horrible story he called a meet-cute. It had gotten better after that as endlessly modest, media trained Hollander began drunkenly insisting that he was the best hockey player in the world.

“Second best,” Ilya had corrected him.

“Nooo.” Hollander had tried to slap a hand over Ilya’s mouth, missed, and slapped his cheek instead. “I’m going to win ten Stanley Cups and not leave any for you.”

“No one wins ten Stanley Cups. You can’t win every hockey game, Hollander.”

“Watch me.”

Hollander had lost the All Stars game the very next day because he’d still been too hungover to play properly. It was Ilya’s favorite All Stars game ever.

“Fine,” Hayden said. “I need your help to get Shane to break up with Ben.”

“I would be happy to join the anti-Ben club.”

“Umm, okay. That part was easier than I thought. Right. So first step, help me convince Shane to go out tonight.”

“Why would I be helpful with that?”

“Because he’ll agree if you’re the one who asks him.”

Ilya snorted. “He will not.”

“He will, trust me. Second step, with you being, you know, you, I thought you could play wingman once we get him out somewhere. Remind him he has options? He just needs to get out of his head. It’s like he’s just skating forward because that’s the way he’s already going and he needs something to knock him over to notice he can change directions.”

“You want me to check your star center into the boards?”

“Not physically. Metaphorically check him into the boards. Wait, you were exaggerating about the lack of nightlife, right? There’s a club in Ottawa we can go out to tonight?”

“Don’t worry, Pike. I know exactly where to invite Hollander out to.”

Ilya still didn’t believe he had a chance in hell of getting Hollander to agree to go out after the game, but he’d follow Hayden’s stupid plan, anyway. He skated over to the red line to talk to Hayden during warmups, and he had to give credit to Hayden’s powers of prediction when Hollander immediately moved to join them.

“Are you on speaking terms with Rozanov now?” Hollander sounded bizarrely excited about this new development.

“Sort of. After you guys hung out in Montreal last time, we were thinking cross team bonding might be a good idea,” Hayden said. “You should come out with us tonight.” He looked significantly at Ilya.

“Yes,” Ilya said. “We are going to a cat cafe called Paws and Drink Tea.”

What the fuck, Hayden mouthed at him.

Hollander lit up. “My dad was just telling me about that place. You’re actually going there?”

“I have already been there twice. Not as cute as a puppy cafe would be, but they are very fluffy cats.” Ilya loved the cat cafe. It was the only place he could simultaneously donate to the animal shelter and pet cats, then get a sandwich afterwards. He’d brought up the question of a puppy version with the barista, but apparently the logistics were bad or something.

“Count me in,” Hollander said happily.

“What happened to the club?” Hayden hissed as Hollander skated away.

“This is better.”

The only one of the Ottawa Centaurs who wanted to join him at Paws and Drink Tea was Wyatt. Unsurprisingly, Hollander and Pike were the only ones from the Montreal team who showed up. More of both teams would have been game if they had actually gone to a club, but Ilya wasn’t concerned with maximizing attendance. If anything, he could have done with even less extra teammates. Luckily, because he’d been there before he knew only two people were allowed in the cat room at a time, giving Ilya an immediate excuse to get Hollander to himself with the cats while Wyatt and Hayden got themselves tea and sandwiches.

“The only thing I don’t like about this place is that it is not dog friendly,” Ilya said. “I cannot bring Anya with me here.” Ilya pulled out his phone to show Hollander the picture of Anya he had as his lock screen.

Hollander’s eyes went soft. “I’ve seen Anya pictures before, your entire Instagram feed is just that dog.”

“Shane Hollander has looked at my Instagram?” Ilya mimed shock.

Hollander shrugged uncomfortably. “Once or twice. Social media isn’t really my thing the way it is yours.”

“Yes, I know. Being boring is your thing.”

“I can be fun! I’m just not loud about it.”

Ilya practiced self control and didn’t say a word about whether he could make Hollander be loud.

Hollander turned to pet a calico cat that was asleep on a shelf near him. It purred and stretched its paws. Ilya felt stupidly jealous of the cat.

“You don’t leave until tomorrow afternoon, yes?” Ilya said casually as if he’d just now thought of it. “You should stop by and meet Anya in the morning before you go.”

“I don’t know if I should be…”

“Are you forbidden from meeting cute dogs now?”

Hollander’s lip quirked up in the tiniest smile and it felt like victory to Ilya.

“Poor Roz.” Wyatt sat at the table with Hayden, picking at their veggie sandwiches. They could see Shane and Rozanov through the tall glass panes where the cat room could be observed from the cafe side.

Hayden had no idea why they were here. He thought he’d been clear about his plan to take Shane out somewhere he might run into a hot guy and change his mind about his boyfriend. Now for some reason they were in a nearly empty cafe watching Shane pet cats.

“He chose this place,” Hayden said.

“I didn’t mean that, I meant, you know, it has to suck to have a crush on a straight guy.”

“What straight guy?”

Wyatt looked at him funny and pointed to the cat room. “Hollander.”

Hayden absolutely could not let himself laugh, so he coughed into his fist while he tried to get his face under control. Then the puck dropped and it wasn’t funny anymore. “Rozanov doesn’t have a crush on Shane. He flirts with everyone like that.”

“Not like that,” Wyatt said. “And he’s been crushing on Hollander for years. I keep trying to tell him it’s never going to happen, but it’s like he has a blind spot when it comes to Hollander. Actually, could you talk to Hollander for me? Just ask him to tell Roz he’s not interested. I swear Roz is normally the kind of guy that can take a hint, but I think he’s got his signals all muddled up with wishful thinking and needs to hear it stated out loud from the source.”

Hayden focused in on the interaction happening on the other side of the glass, needing to deny the bizarre accusation that Rozanov could possibly be crushing on Shane. Rozanov leaned in towards Shane with his usual easy confidence, and he was clearly flirting, but again, normal for Rozanov. He reached out casually and squeezed Shane’s shoulder which, okay, over the line. Shane only smiled because he was stupid about Rozanov. That’s when Hayden saw it. Rozanov’s eyes heated and his touch lingered for a moment too long.

“Oh, shit.” Hayden set down his sandwich. Rozanov had a crush on Shane. More details started registering after that. The quiet background music, the lack of other people and abundance of cute animals, the fucking bird food. This place could have been designed in a lab to get Shane to relax and let his guard down. Rozanov had brought them here on purpose. Rozanov was trying to pick up Shane, and why the fuck was Shane handing Rozanov his phone right now?

Hayden shoved back his chair and jumped to his feet, then realized he had no idea what to do next. This seemed like a situation urgent enough to call for violating the two person cat room policy (Was that planned? How the fuck? Who even was Ilya Rozanov?) but what was he supposed to tell the employees? Help, a crime is being committed! My too-good-for-this-world best friend is being seduced by some Russian asshole and I may have accidentally set up the shot for him!

“You okay?” Wyatt asked.

“Don’t they have a time limit for how long they’re supposed to be in there? They can’t just hog all the cats like that.”

“Uh.”

“I’m getting an employee.”

Ilya let his fingers brush against Hollander’s as he handed back his phone. If he’d known it was this easy to get Hollander’s number and talk him into coming over to Ilya’s house he would have tried it years ago. Then again, years ago he probably would have fucked it up. So don’t fuck it up now.

He was close enough to count the freckles scattered across Hollander’s face if he’d had enough time to do so. He wondered what Hollander’s lips would feel like if he kissed him, but he’d been wondering that since before their rookie season and he still didn’t have an answer to the question.

“So I’ll be over. To meet Anya.”

“Yes.”

“Great.”

Neither of them moved.

The door crashing open startled Ilya enough to turn around, taking a step back from Hollander while he did so as if he’d been doing something wrong.

“You’re out of time,” Hayden Pike announced.

Hollander recovered first. “What the fuck, Hayden, you scared the cats.”

“Sorry, cats!”

The scattered cats remained hidden, unimpressed with his apology.

That night Jackie Pike sat on the edge of the twin’s bed while Hayden finished up reading them their bedtime story over video call. It was their tradition whenever Hayden was on the road. A video call over breakfast, and then at bedtime to start and end the day. Luckily Hayden would be home tomorrow to help out with the kids in person, which would be a relief. He always made sure to find time to take the kids so Jackie could have a spa day when he got back. Dealing with four kids on her own was a lot.

When the kids conked out Jackie plucked her phone back from a slack hand and quietly stepped out of the room. Hayden switched out of kid mode as soon as she shut the door behind her.

“We’ve got a situation here,” Hayden said. “The wild card plan was a mistake. No, a disaster. A catastrophe.”

“What happened? Did Rozanov not agree to it?” Jackie asked as she headed to the bedroom to make sure there were no eavesdropping tiny ears.

“He agreed to it a little too much, that’s the problem. He took Shane to look at cats then made a move on him.”

“Honey, you’re not making any sense.” Jackie sat down on the bed and looked at her husband’s panicked face on the screen. “Why were they looking at cats? And you told me you were sure Rozanov wasn’t interested.”

“I was wrong, okay? Very, very wrong. And the cats were in this cafe. Don’t worry about the cats, except, wait, do. Like, what the hell, is Rozanov working on his PhD in Shane Hollander? How did he know that would work?”

Jackie spun her wedding ring around her finger thoughtfully. “Rozanov just spontaneously decided he’s into Shane now when you talked to him and then came up with that?”

“No, Wyatt said he’s had this crush for years.”

“You never noticed anything?” Jackie clicked away from the phone call and opened a web browser. The Hollander-Rozanov rivalry was big enough that there were plenty of pictures of them together. She quickly found stills from when they’d been sitting beside each other at interviews and studied Rozanov’s face. Those soft little heart eyes. Oh my god. “How did we not see this?” She clicked over to pictures from their face offs, and dear god. Okay. Rozanov’s crush was not subtle. Someone should talk to him about that.

“Why would we have been looking for it?” Hayden asked. “Rozanov? How does that happen? I mean, I know Shane has an unrequited thing for him-”

“Requited,” Jackie interrupted. “This is definitely requited. And I don’t think it’s a disaster, Hayd. If anything it’ll make getting Shane to break up with Ben easier.”

“By what, feeding Shane to wolves?!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, we don’t even know Rozanov. Wait, you have his number, right? Send it to me.”

“I do know this guy, and he’s an asshole. He’s just going to mess with Shane’s head then dump him to get an advantage in a hockey match or something. No, we’re cutting Rozanov out of the plan.”

“Do you hear yourself right now? He’s not going to ditch the guy he’s been infatuated with for years to win a hockey game. Just send me his number, Hayd. I’m starting a group chat.”

When Ilya opened the door to his house the next day, Shane Hollander was standing there, glowing in the morning sunlight. “I really only have a few minutes,” Hollander said. “I’m meeting my parents after this.”

Ilya nodded and attempted to produce acceptable English words as he waved Hollander into his house. It wasn’t until he went to shut the door that he noticed Hayden Pike was also there for some fucking reason. Ilya ignored him and gestured grandly at the dog wiggling in the entryway. “This is Anya. Anya, Shane Hollander.” Introductions complete, Ilya scooped up Anya and handed her to Hollander.

“Aww.” Hollander ruffled the fur on her head.

Ilya felt incandescent with how happy he was with his life right now. He did his best to lean back against the wall in the most casual pose he could manage that would still show off his biceps. “You should drive down to Ottawa for one of my games when you get the chance. Since we’re friends now.”

“Fuck off, you drive to Montreal for one of my games.” Hollander finished spoiling Anya with pets and handed her back to Ilya.

“Maybe,” Ilya said. “Did you want anything to drink?”

“No, I have to… Well, you have my number.”

“Yes. I do.”

“Then I’ll talk to you later, Rozanov.”

A few minutes after they left, Ilya’s phone dinged with a text. It was, disappointingly, from Hayden.

Hayden: Stop it

Ilya: Stop what? I’m following the plan. You said to get Hollander out of his clothes

Ilya: Oops, autocorrect. *head

Hayden: Fuck you, that is not how autocorrect works

Ilya: The words are very similar in Russian

Hayden: If you hurt Shane I am going to punch you so hard it’ll end your whole hockey career

Ilya: Strong words from Montreal’s fifteenth best hockey player

Hayden: What did you just say to me?

Ilya: Was a text. Can you not read?

Ilya clicked away from the text chain and onto a different one that had started just yesterday when he’d texted This is Ilya Rozanov. I will send you a good profile picture to add for my contact.

Don’t, Hollander had texted back.

Before Ilya could decide on which selfie to send, his phone dinged with another text, this one from an unsaved number.

Hi, Ilya! This is Jackie Pike.

Chapter 4: Shane's relationship is going really well, thanks for asking!

Chapter Summary

Shane is planning on spending his night off with Ben. Ilya Rozanov has other ideas.

Chapter Notes

On one hand, this story is actually sticking to my outline! On the other hand, I am still in events I outlined for chapter three. I'm either going to need to start writing longer chapters, or increase my expected chapter count. Haven't decided which yet.

The Neutral Zone Podcast Transcript

Adrian: In today’s weirdest news- have you heard this? Twitter is saying Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander are friends now.

Kevin: Why does Twitter think they’re friends? I thought those two hated each other.

Adrian: Apparently they’ve been spotted hanging out after their games.

Kevin: Is that confirmed by something that isn’t Twitter?

Adrian: Nope, just Twitter.

Kevin: Yeah, I don’t think we have to give credence to that. Moving on.

Shane checked his phone again and told himself he was not looking to see if he’d gotten another text message from Ilya Rozanov. He and Rozanov had mostly been texting about hockey over the past week. Can you believe that goal, that penalty was bullshit, New York’s goalie is a fucking wall. It was innocuous, obviously. Nothing Shane couldn’t literally have shown to Ben if he cared to. He hadn’t, though, mentioned the texts to Ben.

There were plenty of random little things he never mentioned to Ben because they weren’t important, he told himself. So what if Ilya Rozanov was texting him? They weren’t even physically in the same location. Shane was in his apartment because they’d only had a half day of practice and no game tonight. Rozanov was in Ottawa. That was two hours away.

Shane opened his fridge to search for something to eat for lunch and found a stack of containers, all neatly labeled with Ben’s handwriting. Ben must have dropped by and done all his meal prep for him, because Ben was a perfect boyfriend no matter what Hayden said about it. Shane dialed Ben as he pulled the salad labeled for lunch out of the fridge. If he didn’t talk to his boyfriend he’d only keep using his phone to check for texts.

“Hollywood.” Ben sounded cheery when he answered. “Busy week?”

Guilt crept up his throat. He’d neglected talking to Ben more days than not lately. As much as he wanted to ignore it, the argument he’d gotten into with Hayden had gotten a thought caught in his mind like a splinter. Do you even like me? “Practice, you know. We’re done early today.” He leaned back against the counter and began pushing around the salad with a fork.

“I could come over tonight?”

“Umm, yeah. I mean… that would be nice.”

“Okay. Are we good, Hollywood?”

“Yeah. Sure. Why wouldn’t we be?”

Ben’s sigh was static over the phone. “Are you really still mad about the dishwasher thing?”

“No. It’s fine, Ben, I’m over it.”

There was a pause as if Ben was waiting for something else, then gave up. “You’re too stressed. We should fuck off and go on vacation somewhere. Rio, maybe.”

“I can’t fuck off and go to Rio, it’s the middle of the season.”

“Don’t you get vacation time? Just tell them you’ll be out a couple weeks.”

“Hayden missed one game for the birth of his literal child and the fans crucified him and asked what he needed to be in the delivery room for. I don’t even want to think about what people would say if my team fell in the standings because I wanted to take a vacation with my boyfriend. We can go to Rio in the summer if you still want to.”

“Everyone in my office takes a vacation in the winter, I don’t see why-”

“Then either go by yourself or don’t date a hockey player.” The words came out harsher than he’d meant them. He mumbled a sorry and shoved a bite of salad in his mouth.

Ben sighed again. “We’re not good, are we?”

Shane stabbed his salad. “I don’t know.”

“Listen, we’ll figure it out tonight, okay? I don’t know what’s going on, but we can fix it. I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

After they got off the call Shane’s phone finally dinged with a text.

Ilya: Are you watching the New York or the San Francisco game tonight?

Shane: Probably neither. Ben is coming over.

He watched as the typing bubble appeared and disappeared several times. It went away and Rozanov left him on read. “Asshole,” Shane muttered.

Group Chat

Ilya has changed the name of the group chat to The Anti-Ben Club

Hayden: We can’t fucking call it that, what if Shane sees my phone?

Ilya has changed the name of the group chat to The Ilya Rozanov Fan Club

Hayden: Are you kidding me?

Ilya: Emergency

Jackie: ?

Ilya: Pretend your TV is broken. You need to watch the game at Hollander’s place tonight

Hayden: Shane is going to notice our TV isn’t broken the next time he comes over

Ilya: I will hit your TV with a hammer

Jackie: Don’t do that

Ilya: Say your wifi is out. And you have already invited a friend over to watch the game

Hayden: Is the friend you

Ilya: Yes. I am Jackie’s best friend

Hayden: WTF

Jackie: Maybe it would help if I got one of my friends to pretend to be your date? Then it would seem more like a couple’s night thing.

Ilya: Yes, Jackie, you are a genius. Then Hollander will see how good I am at being a boyfriend

Hayden: Like that’s not going to backfire on you immediately. Actually, I’m on board with this plan

Ilya: Because it is the best plan. Cannot possibly go wrong.

Hayden: I’ll see if I can get someone to watch the kids. We are NOT pulling a chaos plan in front of them

When Shane answered the knock at his door, he was expecting his boyfriend to be standing on the other side of it. It was not his boyfriend. “Hayden?” Shane said, baffled. Jackie was beside him, and just past her was Ilya Rozanov with some woman on his arm. Shane’s mind went blank.

“Our wifi went down and we needed somewhere to watch the game,” Hayden said. “It’s okay if we hang out here, right?”

Was he supposed to nod there? Was nodding the correct action? Ilya Rozanov was at his apartment.

“You look nice,” Jackie said. “We’re not interrupting your plans, are we?” She shot a look at Rozanov for some reason.

“Umm.” Did he have plans? Ben. Holy shit, how was he going to explain this to Ben? No, it was fine. It wasn’t like he and Rozanov were lovers or something. Nothing was happening between them. There was nothing to explain.

Rozanov wrapped an arm around Shane’s shoulders, a perfectly normal thing to do. “Twitter is excited for our friendship. I need a picture.” Rozanov held up his phone and snapped a selfie. Shane had no idea what his facial expression was in it. “Good?” Rozanov tilted his phone towards Shane so he could see the caption Now it’s Twitter official! It made it sound like they were in a relationship. Shane reminded himself that no one was going to think that.

“Good,” Shane agreed.

Rozanov nodded and hit post. “Now we are official friends, we are on a first name basis.”

“Okay,” Shane said and continued to nod in the hope that it was the right response.

“Shane, this is Emma,” Ilya said. “She’s my date for the evening.”

Shane wanted to snap at Ilya for bringing a date, but he had no excuse for it. Too many people? They were definitely reaching the point of too many people in Shane’s apartment. It wasn’t that his place wasn’t big enough to host them all, it was that he hadn’t had any time to plan for them to be there. He didn’t have themed snacks or extra refreshments or whatever it was he would be expected to have for watching a game with a group of people.

“Why don’t you turn the game on and I’ll get… drinks?” Shane said.

“I’ll go with you and pick out my own glass,” Ilya said. “Am very picky.”

Hayden made a face, but Jackie steered him toward the couch and away from the kitchen.

“Sit,” Ilya said as soon as they reached the kitchen. He pulled out one of the barstools at the kitchen counter and Shane sat down on it without thinking. “You look like you are being attacked by ghosts.”

A strangled laugh escaped Shane’s throat.

Ilya set down a ginger ale in front of him. “It’s just Hayden and Jackie.” Ilya’s voice was low as if he was trying to calm a spooked horse. “Hayden is annoying, but he is your friend.”

“Emma’s here, too.” And you.

“Emma is Jackie’s friend. She’s nice.”

Shane focused on the cool aluminum can against his fingers. Ilya banged around in the cabinets behind him looking for glasses, and the absurd domesticity of it was oddly soothing. By the time Ilya sat down beside him with a branded Montreal glass in his hands of all things, Shane’s breathing had evened out.

“I wasn’t expecting to have people over,” Shane said, embarrassment starting to creep in now that he was aware he’d overreacted in front of Ilya Rozanov.

“Sorry. We should have called. Was a last minute plan.”

“No, it’s- I guess I don’t really need themed snacks. Just give me a minute to recalibrate.”

Ilya nodded and went to rustle through the fridge.

Shane texted Ben a quick warning that there were people over to watch the game. This could be good. Maybe Ben could watch the game with them and then they’d talk after and everything that felt like it was going sideways right now in Shane’s life would be fixed. Getting invested in a hockey game was an easy way to start talking to someone. Ben had watched hockey games with him, occasionally. Ben might even bond with Hayden and Jackie. It could work.

Ilya reappeared after sorting out everyone’s drinks. There was another knock at the door.

“And that’ll be Ben, unless you’ve invited someone else I don’t know about,” Shane said.

“Yes, I invited the entire Ottawa team,” Ilya said. “The Boston team, too, I still have contacts.”

“Fuck off.”

It was only Ben at the door, thankfully. He looked just as annoyed as Shane had expected him to be. Shane did his best to smile in the hopes that might smooth things over. “Ben, you know Hayden, Jackie, Ilya. This is Emma, Jackie’s friend. Emma, this is my boyfriend, Ben.” He used the word boyfriend deliberately so Ben would know not to pretend otherwise.

“Yes, I heard, your wifi is out,” Ben said. “Will you get a text when it comes back on?”

So the bonding already wasn’t going well.

“The game won’t go that late,” Shane said.

“First period is already starting,” Hayden said.

Shane was momentarily distracted by the screen as the players lined up for the face-off.

Ben took his arm. “Can I talk to you in private?”

“Umm, of course.” Shane let Ben lead him to the bedroom. He shut the door behind them to block out the crowd in the living room. “You should watch the game with us. You could try to get along with Hayden-”

“I’m not the problem there.”

“But-”

“Shane.” Ben slumped down on the bed and rubbed a hand over his forehead. “I’m trying to talk to you, and you’re-”

The door swung open. Ilya leaned against the door frame. “New York just scored.”

“For the love of god,” Ben said. “Can I get five fucking minutes alone with my boyfriend?”

“Sorry,” Ilya said, not sounding particularly repentant. He stepped out and Shane closed the door again.

The Ilya Rozanov Fan Club

Jackie: Well they seem very breakup in t-minus ten

Hayden: I think this is actually working

Ilya added Emma to The Ilya Rozanov Fan Club

Ilya: Emma, can you run interference next? I have been kicked out

Emma: What are we doing?

Jackie: Trying to break up Shane and Ben

Emma: Aww, but Ben’s really handsome! They seemed cute together!

Ilya removed Emma from The Ilya Rozanov Fan Club

“I don’t want to fight,” Ben said. “That’s not us. Come here. Will you just tell me what’s bothering you?” Ben held out his hand and Shane took the two steps required to take it. He sat down beside Ben, but he couldn’t seem to get his shoulders to relax.

He thought about saying nothing but what actually tumbled out of his mouth was, “Do you even like me?”

“Hollywood. Look at me. We’ve been dating for two years. Of course I like you.”

“You hate hockey.”

“I don’t hate hockey. I appreciate plenty of things about your job.”

“You hate that I don’t want to take all these vacations and socialize the way you do.”

“That’s a strong way to put it. What if instead of this downspiral I make you a better list.” Ben cupped his hands around Shane’s face. “I love how quiet and understated you are, like the finest Swiss timepiece with the prettiest face.”

Shane paused. “Did you just call me a fashion accessory?”

Ben made a frustrated noise. “I’m not good at metaphors. You know what I meant.”

“I’m not sure I do.”

Ben pulled away from him. “I think I see what the problem is now. We’re in a slump. Neither of us are putting in the effort we should be. How about this. I’ll go to your next hockey game. You can get me some tickets. I want to cheer for my boyfriend. We’ll go on a date night. I’ll think of a grand romantic gesture. You’ll remember why you’re in love with me.”

“Ben.” Shane took a deep breath. He felt somehow worse than he had at the start of the night. But maybe he hadn’t been putting in any effort lately? This really could be a salvageable problem, couldn’t it? “I’m going back out to watch the rest of the game with Hayden. I think-”

“I’ll stay in here and get some work done. Like you said, the game won’t go too late.”

Shane: Just checking: is there some secret reason that it’s really romantic to call someone a watch?

Hayden: What the fuck? Context? Did Ben just call you a watch?

Shane: Never mind.

Chapter 5: Shane's boyfriend is so romantic!

Chapter Summary

Ilya Rozanov's plans often go awry.

Chapter Notes

I know this one took longer to get out, I just hit a frustrating mental block on writing this week. I broke out of it by switching to writing by hand with my fountain pens. Don't know why this worked, but it did, and here's the chapter!

@IlyaRozanov81: Now it’s Twitter official! [image]

 @PuckingHockey: Why does Shane Hollander look confused to be in this friendship?

↳@CensJustKeepLosing: To be fair, I am also confused by this friendship.

@MontrealFan4Life: Hollander, love of my life, captain of my loins, if Rozanov is holding you hostage blink twice.

↳@PuckingHockey: Hollander doesn’t even have a Twitter account, who do you think you’re talking to?

@StillaCensFanForSomeReason: I love a good enemies to friends arc. Cutie pies. :)

@HollanovClown: Hear me out.

↳@MontrealFan4Life: No.

↳ @CensJustKeepLosing: Would you cut this shit out? Shane Hollander is literally straight.

  ↳@BostonRaidMe: His boyfriend will be disappointed to hear that.

      ↳@CensJustKeepLosing: You mean the man that Hollander has PUBLICLY STATED is just his friend?

            ↳@BostonRaidMe: His friend who he kisses on the mouth as a little treat.

@HockeySpiceSeason: What if the real hockey was the friends we made along the way?

Ilya’s plan to demonstrate his boyfriend skills was not going well. Every single time he did something sweet for Emma, Shane just glared at him. Shane had been in a bad mood since returning from his conversation with Ben in general, though. Even watching Buffalo get destroyed by New York didn’t seem to be cheering him up. This was probably a good sign for the breakup plan, but watching Shane be unhappy was too painful to feel like progress.

“Are you planning on driving back to Ottawa tonight?” Shane asked abruptly.

“Yes, it’s not that far.”

“It’s two hours, and it’s dangerous to drive when you’re tired.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Or,” Jackie interjected. “This is a sleeper sofa. I’ve crashed on it with Hayden before, it’s really pretty comfortable. Right Hayden?” She poked her husband.

“I guess?” Hayden said.

“Well,” Ilya said. “It would save me from reckless driving.” He’d really been expecting Shane to protest this plan, but he only nodded.

“I have a spare set of sheets you can use.”

Ilya had not brought an extra set of clothes, but he could steal Shane’s. He liked that idea a lot, actually.

He liked his plan significantly less once he realized that Ben was also staying the night and, unlike Ilya, Ben would be sleeping in Shane’s bedroom. Ilya knew what he would do if he was in bed with his boyfriend Shane Hollander and there was some prick who thought he had a chance right outside the door.

Luckily for Ilya’s sanity, there wasn’t a single noise from the bedroom. It actually swung back around to irritating, because what the fuck was Ben thinking? Shane had that mouth that was just begging to be kissed then fucked then kissed again and Ben, what, couldn’t be bothered?

Ilya’s phone dinged with a text from the group chat. Shane gets up at six for his workout. Set your alarm. Ilya texted back a quick thanks. With the next step of his seduction plan in place, he went to sleep. And then was woken up by the blaring of his phone alarm way too fucking early because getting up before the sun had even risen yet to work out was absurd.

Ilya swore and grumbled to himself as he lurched out of the fold-out bed. When he looked up, Shane was standing in the doorway of his bedroom wearing gym clothes and looking way too awake for six a.m.

“Oh,” Shane said. “Are you, umm.”

“I always get up at this time,” Ilya lied. “Need to get my workout in. Start my day like a champion. Can I borrow your clothes?”

Shane disappeared back into his bedroom then reemerged with a stack of neatly folded gym clothes. Ilya failed to resist the urge to press the shirt to his nose as he changed, but it didn’t smell like anything. He wondered if Shane used unscented laundry detergent, if the fragrances from the other kinds bothered him. Or maybe he was just too boring for even spring meadow scent.

Ilya was not surprised to learn that Shane had bought the apartment next to his and turned it into his gym. He was even less surprised that Shane had a laminated workout schedule. Ilya had a workout schedule too, of course, he was a professional athlete, but his was on a crumpled piece of paper that he occasionally ignored when he was in the mood for a different workout than what he’d planned. For instance, the only aspect of his workout Ilya currently cared about was what would impress Shane Hollander.

He grabbed a set of dumbbells then noticed that Shane had picked up a heavier set than him so he switched. Shane then swapped for even heavier weights. Ilya tried to pick up a barbell one handed.

“Well now you’re just going to injure yourself,” Shane said.

“No,” Ilya said. “Am very strong. I practice for when I will need to lift the pile of trophies I will have after winning my tenth Stanley Cup.”

“No one wins ten Stanley Cups, asshole.”

“No? You should tell Shane Hollander that.”

“What?” His face crinkled in confusion. “I never said I’d win ten Stanley Cups.”

“You did,” Ilya informed him smugly. “At All Stars.”

Shane continued looking baffled for another moment before his eyes widened in horror. “Did I say that to you when I was drunk? I obviously didn’t mean it.”

“Are you saying you don’t think you’re the best hockey player in the world?”

Shane flushed. “I would never say that when I’m sober!”

It wasn’t a denial, which was somehow even funnier. “Don’t worry, Hollander, I was the only one whose ear you were talking off about your incredible hockey skills and your boyfriend.”

“I told you about Ben? Why would I- Is that why you don’t like Ben? Because I got drunk and complained about my boyfriend?”

“You only said that you met him. No complaints. But if you wanted to-”

“No! I have a workout to focus on.” Then, in complete defiance of his laminated schedule, Shane turned away from Ilya and started running on the treadmill.

Ilya got back to his own workout and pretended he wasn’t stealing glances at Shane. Shane was just so pretty. Especially like this, with his skin flushed and his hair sweaty and wrecked. Ilya made sure to pull off his own shirt when he noticed Shane looking back at him. Shane slammed the stop button on the treadmill. It was not, Ilya thought, the most productive workout for either of them.

“I think that’s enough,” Shane said, sounding a bit breathless. “You should put your shirt back on.”

Ilya shrugged. “Too hot.”

Shane looked like he was about ready to melt and Ilya wanted to bite him. Ilya took a step closer and Shane ran away. Or he didn’t run, exactly, but he did move briskly in the opposite direction until he reached the door and stepped out of it. So that could have gone better.

Ilya grumbled to himself as he pulled the shirt back on and followed after him. “Shane,” Ilya tried to say once he caught up with him in the kitchen, then stopped himself when he realized Ben was there. He’d gotten dressed in a suit and tie while they were out. Shane didn’t look surprised to see Ben, which meant this must be normal hours for him.

Ben handed Shane some kind of disgusting green smoothie then tossed the blender in the sink. “Sorry, I only made one,” he said. “Anyway, I don’t think you want the side of boyfriend privileges it comes with.”

“Depends on the boyfriend,” Ilya said.

“I keep forgetting you’re the twitter bisexual one,” Ben said.

“Normal bisexual,” Ilya said.

“His name’s Ilya,” Shane said. “I introduced you twice.”

Ben shrugged. “I should get going. The grind waits for no man. Are we still on for dinner tonight?” He asked Shane. “I have a friend who can get us reservations at that new Italian place.”

“Sure. Dinner. Is it a dress code kind of place?”

“Well you can’t wear gym clothes, though you do look hot enough to sell calendars in that, Hollywood.” Ben leaned over to press a kiss to Shane’s mouth and grab his ass.

Ilya had to bite back the words Can you fight? by reminding himself that he was not a part of this conversation and that wasn’t his boyfriend. Yet.

Ben finally left. Shane leaned back against the counter and sipped his smoothie, not even looking in Ilya’s direction. Neither of them said anything. Shane slowly ran his finger around the rim of his glass and drew in a breath like he was about to speak, then stopped.

Ilya closed the distance between them and this time Shane didn’t bolt. His gaze flickered to Ilya’s mouth.

“We can’t,” Shane said weakly then trailed off.

Ilya carefully took the glass out of Shane’s hand and set it aside. “Give me your phone.”

Shane pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed it into Ilya’s waiting hand. “Wait, why?”

“So I can text your boyfriend that you’re breaking up with him.”

Shane snatched his phone back. “You can’t end a serious relationship with a text message.”

“Okay, then call him and say sorry, Ben, I need Ilya’s dick.”

“I’m not dumping my boyfriend for a fuck!”

“What about a boyfriend trade?”

Shane let out a strangled laugh. “A trade? Do I also get a fourth draft pick and a bag of pucks?”

“For Ben? If anything, you should be giving me a fourth draft pick.”

“Fuck off, Ben is…”

“Fine?”

Shane covered his face with his hands. “You need to go.”

“I’d be better at boyfriending than Ben.”

“We can’t date. You know we can’t date, the league would- I’m blocking your number.”

“What the fuck does the league matter? There’s no rule against players dating each other, and Ottawa would back me up.”

“Did you actually read the rulebook over this? Ilya-”

“I asked Wyatt. He said something about Canadian discrimination laws.”

“There’s a difference between legally allowed and public opinion. And Ottawa might back you up, but Montreal- they barely tolerate Ben, they won’t tolerate you.”

“So tell them to go fuck themselves.”

“I can’t risk everything when you’re not even- Just go, Ilya. Please.”

The unfinished sentence hit him like a cross check. Not even what? His boyfriend yet? Worth it? But he knew when he’d pushed too far. Ilya texted the group chat as soon as the door closed behind him. It didn’t go well. Call Shane. I think he needs to talk to you. Then he called Svetlana so he could ask her to question his life decisions.

“I almost had sex with Ilya Rozanov,” Shane blurted out to Ben over their candlelit dinner. The guilt had been strangling him, but now that he’d said it he thought maybe he shouldn’t have. Jackie had very strongly suggested he keep it to himself on the phone earlier, and her advice was generally better than Shane’s first impulse. Then again, she’d admitted she would have told Hayden, and Shane was beginning to think Jackie wanted him to break up with Ben.

“Your twitter friend?” Ben said absently while he typed something on his phone. “Why?”

“Because- He’s- I’m starting to think our rivalry has always been at least half sexual tension.”

“So sleep with him and get it out of your system.”

Shane’s mind went blank. “But we’re exclusive?”

“Make him your hall pass. Everyone gets one of those.”

“We never discussed that.”

“It’s implied.”

“It’s- I don’t think- What are the rules?” On one hand, it didn’t matter because Shane had been sure all of two minutes ago that he didn’t want to be in the sort of relationship that had hall passes, and he’d thought that his relationship wasn’t like that. Besides, it seemed like it would be belittling to the other person to call them a hall pass. Ilya would never agree to it. But Shane still needed to know where the lines were that Ben had apparently set then never told him about.

“Shane. Not everything needs rules.”

“I’m pretty sure this does.”

Ben sighed. “Don’t make it a habit? Don’t go out on a date? Is that good enough?”

“That’s not specific. At what point does it become a habit? Four weeks?”

Ben looked frustrated enough to murder him with a salad fork. “No, not four fucking weeks. I didn’t mean a habit. Fine, not more than twenty-four hours. Happy?”

“Consecutive or intermittent?”

Ben waved over the waiter and ignored Shane’s question. Anyway, it didn’t matter. But Shane hadn’t actually blocked Ilya’s number yet.

Shane tried to focus on anything except Ilya Rozanov at practice the next morning. He had a game to play that night and couldn’t afford distractions, like the distraction of constantly checking his phone to see if Ilya had tried to text him again.

“Doomscrolling?” Hayden asked from beside him.

“Yeah,” Shane lied. “The New York goalie is a fortress.”

“You’re doomscrolling about hockey?”

“What else?” Shane asked. “It would suck not to win tonight after Ben dragged all his friends here. He’s really making an effort.” The words felt hollow, especially since Shane had literally just been scrolling through a text message chain with someone else.

“Shane. Buddy.” Hayden looked worried for some reason. “Please tell me you didn’t buy an entire group of Ben’s friends tickets to the game.”

“It’s not like I need the money. And Ben wouldn’t want to sit alone in the stands, obviously.”

Hayden smacked his fist against his forehead then picked up his phone. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like can’t believe I’ve been brought to this.

Practice went fine after that. They had the afternoon off before the game, so Shane got lunch with his parents and did his best to ignore his phone.

“Are you befriending Rozanov?” Yuna asked over appetizers.

Shane poked at his food with a fork guiltily. “Why? Is it a problem for my sponsorships?”

“No, not a problem,” Yuna said. “More a point of confusion. Didn’t you hate him? It’s all over Twitter. Maybe you could do an ad together.”

“I don’t hate him. I just want to destroy him in hockey. Those are two different things.” Shane turned the conversation back to playoff chances before further explanations could be demanded of him and Rozanov was forgotten for the duration of lunch.

Shane was skating out onto the ice for warmups when he saw him. Ilya had actually come to his game. Shane waved, stupidly, and that’s when he noticed Ilya was wearing a Hollander jersey.

“Shane?” Hayden’s voice was in his ear as his hand grabbed his arm. “You’re about to skate into a wall.”

“Yeah,” Shane said distantly.

“Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“What idea?” Shane asked.

From the other side of the plexiglass, Ilya winked. Shane felt his entire body heat up in response.

“We have to play hockey,” Hayden said, overly loud, as if he wasn’t standing right next to Shane.

“Uh-huh.”

“We’re doomed.”

“No.” Shane snapped out of his trance. “We’re going to win.”

Ilya sat in the stands with Svetlana on one side and her girlfriend Rose Landry on the other.

“You could sit next to each other,” he told them again as the game started and Hollander won the face-off. “Would be easier for the kiss cam to find you.”

“I told you, I don’t want to announce I have a girlfriend yet,” Rose said. “I’ve had so many gay boyfriends. Now that I finally have a gay girlfriend I want to do a dramatic reveal.”

“Bisexual girlfriend,” Ilya and Svetlana corrected at the same time then high-fived.

“I now respect your choice of jersey,” Svetlana said as Hollander scored before five minutes were even up on the clock. The New York goalie looked devastated.

“He will be my boyfriend,” Ilya said. “I have a twenty-five step plan.”

“Your plan sucks,” Svetlana said. “You need to streamline.”

“Why does this require a plan?” Rose asked.

“Because he already has a boyfriend,” Ilya said, then rethought it. “Don’t tell anyone that. Except the entire internet, because they figured it out a year ago.”

“Is his boyfriend another hockey player?”

“No. A marketing executive named Ben. He is terrible.”

“Fuck Ben,” Rose said. “We should just kidnap Hollander and you could be like- Did you ever see that movie? Three sixty-five something? You could be like, you have thirty days to fall in love with me, Hollander.”

“We can’t kidnap Shane Hollander,” Ilya said grumpily. “Someone would notice. And Hayden Pike would kick me out of the group chat.”

“There’s group chat shenanigans afoot and you haven’t included me yet? Ilya, please! Add Sveta too and she’ll keep me out of trouble.”

“I won’t,” Svetlana said.

Ilya added both of them to the group chat. He wasn’t sure how they fit into his plan, but Svetlana was always a good ally to have on his side. Rose immediately sent a message introducing herself.

Jackie’s reply showed up quickly after. There’s a movie star in the group chat now, why not, I can be normal about this. I hope Hayden doesn’t look at his phone until he gets home. I want to see his face when he finds out.

“Now give us intel on Ben,” Rose said.

Ilya pulled up his LinkedIn profile.

Rose grabbed his phone and clicked on the picture. “Oh, he’s cute. I mean, umm, ugh. So ugly. Loser alert. Not even competition for you.”

“Are you watching this?” Svetlana asked.

Ilya looked up just as the horn blared for another goal. “How?” No one scored two goals that fast. Fuck, Shane was going to be smug about it.

@MontrealFan4Life: What the fuck, we’re murdering them. This is elder abuse.

@HockeySpiceSeason: Pull it together, Scott Hunter! The power of gay love will save you!

@PuckingHockey: lmao, 3-0 in the first period isn’t a hockey game, it’s a massacre

@CensJustKeepLosing: Did anyone else see Shane Hollander skate himself straight into the boards when he saw Rose Landry during warmups? Guess we know what motivates him now.

@PuckingHockey: Shippers are really out here trying to claim the straightest man in the MHL has a boyfriend.

@MontrealFan4Life: @Hollanovclown you’re cooked, delete twitter and hit the gym

↳@HollanovClown: If you think I’m hanging up my giant clown shoes and squeaky nose while Rozanov is literally wearing a Hollander jersey, you’re DREAMING

New York tried to make a comeback, but by the end of the third period Montreal had won 4-2. Shane grabbed his phone as soon as he got back to the locker room and sent a text message. Have you ever heard of a hall pass?

Chapter 6: This is Not Enough

Chapter Summary

Shane uses his hall pass to hook up with Ilya and then has feelings about it.

Chapter Notes

Thank you again for all the kind comments! I read and appreciate all of them, even if I am chaotic about replying to them.

I know I said I would post this chapter a week ago, but I am bad at time. I remain determined to finish this story before the end of February, though. Luckily February is known for being an especially long month, so I still have- oh no.

The Neutral Zone Podcast Transcript

Kevin: I think it’s fair to say the Hollander/Rozanov friendship rumors have collapsed with that stunt Rozanov pulled last night. Showing up to a Montreal game in a Hollander jersey? Classic Rozanov prank. It’s clear now that he was just messing with Twitter.

Adrian: Do we think Hollander is going to respond to the friendship prank?

Kevin: I doubt he’s even aware of it, he’s too off-line and focused on hockey. We saw that single-mindedness pay off last night. Let’s move past the social media bullshit and talk about the game.

@HollanovClown: [screenshot showing a notification that reads @ilyarozanov81 now follows you!] Oh my god????

@CensJustKeepLosing: Someone collect Rozanov, he’s drunk.

@PuckingHockey: What an epic troll.

That Shane had driven two hours just to get fucked was as indisputable as it was ridiculous. He decided to save having a crisis about it for his two hour drive back home. He still didn’t know why Ilya had agreed to this. Because he liked sex, Shane assumed, and neither of them appeared to posses the common sense required to stay away from each other.

Shane checked his phone again, as if he needed to triple check the text he’d sent telling Ilya what time he’d be here. He’d gotten the time exactly right, and he was still standing in Ilya’s driveway trying to work up the nerve to knock on the door.

The door opened without him approaching it and Ilya stepped out. “If you keep standing there my neighbors are going to have questions about why Shane Hollander is casing my house.”

“What would I be here to steal, your losing streak?” Shane pocketed his phone. “Anyway, I thought you told the internet we’re friends now.”

“I tried. The internet thinks you’re trying to get into my girlfriend Rose Landry’s DMs.”

“You’re dating Rose Landry?”

“No. She is very much taken by someone else.”

“Then why…” Shane started then gave up. There was a reason he stayed off social media. “I should come inside.”

“Yes.”

A blush fought its way up his cheeks despite his best effort to prevent it. He shouldn’t have come here. He hated wanting things.

“Scared, Hollander?”

That shouldn’t have fucking worked, but Shane’s legs moved of their own accord to carry him into the house as he said, “No.”

Shane barely waited for the door to close behind him before he crashed into Ilya to claim the kiss he’d been fantasizing about for years. Ilya slammed him into the door as he kissed him back, his mouth an instructional manual on demanding kisses. Ilya’s tongue slipped past Shane’s lips and Shane moaned as his brain gave up the fight and shut down for the foreseeable future.

He shoved up the soft cotton of Ilya’s shirt and felt the warmth of skin and the flex of muscles under his hands. Ilya was a monument to the work he’d put in to master his game. Shane wanted to lick every inch of his body, but he wasn’t ready to stop kissing him yet. Ilya brushed his fingers across Shane’s face in a caress that was too tender by far for a quick hookup. Shane pulled away. He had to remember this was casual. It was no-strings fantasy fulfillment, not an emotional investment.

He didn’t even have to worry about what loving couples did or did not do the way he did with Ben. He doubted Ilya would say I care about you too much to face fuck you, that’s not what people in relationships do. There was only what he wanted and what Ilya wanted, so when he started unbuttoning Ilya’s pants and Ilya said, “On your knees,” Shane dropped without a second thought.

Shane liked to be good at things, and he liked to win. It occasionally caused problems when he ditched trying something new immediately because he couldn’t stand being bad at it, and when he tried to win at sex despite both Ben and the internet explaining to him that that was not how sex worked. (He’d read a few articles then made an anonymous account to ask Reddit, and the answers had been annoyingly unanimous on that front.)

When he took the head of Ilya’s cock into his mouth and pressed his tongue against the slit, Ilya let out a groan and Shane decided he could so too win at sex, fuck the internet’s opinion, anyway. He flattened his tongue to take Ilya deeper and looked up.

“Shane,” Ilya said, a warning in the strangled word.

As much as Shane thought it would be sexy to pretend he didn’t mind swallowing cum, he very much did mind so he pulled back. The worried thought managed to make its way into his head that this encounter felt like it had barely started but it was likely almost over. He’d known that the driving here would take longer than the sex, obviously. Sex didn’t take that long.

“You should fuck me,” Shane said, because he’d gone through all the bother of prepping for it. “I mean, if you want to.”

Ilya shrugged nonchalantly before pulling off his shirt and slowly removing the rest of his clothes.

Shane stared, then awkwardly tried to pretend he wasn’t looking, then remembered he was allowed to look and stared again.

“You’re overdressed,” Ilya said.

“No, I’m not,” Shane said. “These are my casual clothes. Wait, you meant—- sorry.”

***

Ilya could not possibly be expected to make it to the other side of this with his sanity intact. He’d already nearly come just from the sight of his cock in Shane Hollander’s mouth, and now Shane was carefully folding his clothes as if Ilya wasn’t about to pin him down and fuck him out of sheer impatience. Dear fucking god, was Shane trying to make Ilya fall in love with him? Because if so, it was working. This was terrible.

“Bedroom,” Ilya ordered, because he hadn’t had the foresight to keep condoms and lube in the entryway. He turned away from Shane and took a few steadying breaths. He’d had fantasy-fulfilling sex before. He couldn’t fall apart just because a pretty man folded his clothes.

He managed to clear his head for about two seconds before a glance at Shane undid his self-control all over again. This was going to be a problem.

Luckily he'd cleaned up his bedroom specifically for this. He always kept his place relatively clean, but Shane's apartment had been immaculate. Because Ben didn't live there, he thought. Ilya didn't really want to think about Shane's soon to be ex boyfriend, so he set the thought aside in order to focus on fucking Shane into agreeing to date him.

He kissed Shane again as he dragged him down to the bed because he couldn't seem to stop kissing him. He leaned back to take his weight off Shane. “Turn over.”

“You could say please,” Shane said snidely as he rolled onto his stomach.

“Would you like that?” Ilya wasn't allergic to begging when his partner liked it, but it wasn't exactly his favorite thing.

“No,” Shane admitted.

“You should feel free to beg for my cock, though, if you want to,” Ilya said.

Shane choked on air. "You..." Whatever he'd been about to say dissolved into a gasp as Ilya pressed his tongue to Shane's rim. Ilya had waited too long to get his hands on Shane's perfect ass to pass up the chance to do this. He licked a slow circle and was rewarded with a moan for his efforts. Shane tried to push back toward him and Ilya had to grab his hips to hold him in place. 

"Stay still," Ilya took his mouth off him long enough to say, keeping close enough that he knew his breath was brushing against Shane.

"Trying, fuck." The rest garbled into meaningless noises as Ilya resumed his task. Shane's hole opened easily for his tongue to thrust into. Ilya slid a finger in using nothing but spit and Shane whimpered in response.

"Good?" Ilya asked as if he wasn't absolutely sure at this point that he was taking Shane apart stroke by stroke.

"Please," Shane said.

Ilya, never one to turn down a polite request, fetched a bottle of lube and a condom from the nightstand. Fucking Shane into incoherence turned out to be easier than he'd expected. The only problem was that Shane was so tight and so fucking loud about his pleasure that Ilya didn't last half as long as he usually did. He could at least reassure himself that he'd definitely gotten Shane to orgasm first before he whited out with pleasure and collapsed onto the bed on top of Shane.

He didn't bother pulling out, just enjoyed the warmth of the body around his slowly softening cock as he learned how to breath normally again.

"I should get cleaned up. I still have to drive back," Shane said, absurdly.

"You don't have another game for two days," Ilya said. He'd checked the schedule as soon as Shane had texted him about coming over.

"I can't stay here for two days."

"Then how long can you stay? I want to fuck you again."

"I... twenty-four hours?"

"Then stay for twenty-four hours." 

"Umm. Okay. I should set an alarm."

It felt like a challenge, and Ilya loved challenges. Twenty-four hours to ruin Shane Hollander for all other men and get him to agree to be Ilya's boyfriend. It was much more efficient than his previous plan. Svetlana would approve. Probably. He decided not to ask her.

Shortly afterwards Shane was taking a shower and Ilya was lounging in bed waiting for him to get back. He'd offered to help Shane shower, but Shane seemed to be under the impression that Ilya would be less than helpful.

Shane's phone rang from the nightstand. He'd brought it to the bedroom to set his sex alarm. The screen lit up with the name Hayden. In Ilya's defense, he considered not answering it for a whole two seconds.

"Hayden," Ilya said cheerily as he turned the phone on speaker.

There was a long pause. "Ilya? Why the fuck are you answering Shane's phone?"

"Because Shane can't answer it right now. I did too good a job of fucking him."

"Put Shane on the phone."

"Is on speaker. Did you need Shane for something? He's in Ottawa. At my house.”

"What the fuck."

"You're already at a dollar to the swear jar, I think."

"Who told you about— Would you just let me talk to Shane? I'm not even sure I want an explanation for what's happening right now."

"Explanation for what?" Shane stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel slung low on his hips.

"The entire existence of Ilya Rozanov," Hayden snapped.

Shane grabbed the phone from Ilya and took it off speaker. Rude. Shane listened to Hayden saying something Ilya could no longer hear. "No, I'm at Ilya's house," Shane said. Then, after another pause, "I'm not locked in his basement. I just came over to, umm, watch the game? No, fine, I don't know which game. He said what?" Shane glared at Ilya, which was probably uncalled for.

"Tell Jackie I said hi," Ilya shouted at the phone.

Shane sighed and dropped his head in his hand. “Yes, I’m— don't worry about it. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Bye, Hayden.” Shane hung up the phone and huffed. Shane's face was so adorably scrunched up with annoyance that Ilya didn't feel deterred from causing havoc at all.

“Was Hayden calling to ask for a threesome?”

“No. He thinks I threw my common sense out a window and he's not wrong. What are we doing? If we get caught…”

“Get dressed,” Ilya said before Shane could spiral any further into his what if scenarios. “We need to take Anya for a walk. She's been cooped up too long in her playroom.”

Shane's eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “You have an entire room in your house for your dog's toys?”

"Anya is good dog. She needs many toys. And dog beds. And treats."

"And walks? Okay, yeah, I'll go with you. You don't think the neighbors will say anything?"

"This is why we're friends now." Ilya winked.

"I thought I was after your girlfriend."

"You are faking being my friend to get to her. Tragic for me. Harris will have to get me a second dog to help me cope."

"I don't think my evil plan is going to work out, I'm not that good a liar."

"You've managed to keep some secrets."

Shane fiddled with his phone. “Not well. I mean, obviously, half of Twitter knows about Ben, right? If people weren't so determined to see me as straight I think the whole thing would've come out years ago.”

"You should get on Instagram and post I'm gay, fuck you. It worked well for me."

Shane rolled his eyes. “They traded you to Ottawa and fucked up your immigration paperwork so bad you almost got deported to Russia.”

“It wouldn't have come to that. I could've had a green card marriage. And it wouldn't have to be that messy. Scott Hunter—”

"Is a lightning rod fielding more questions about being gay than about playing hockey. And he's got the league commissioner leaning on him to retire on top of that. And don't even try to bring up other players who came out, because they all lost their contracts. There's no more room for another queer hockey player. They won't let there be."

"You're Shane Hollander. You tell them to fucking make some room."

Shane studied a spot over his shoulder instead of looking at him. "I should get dressed. We're walking Anya, right?"

"Yes," Ilya said, and reluctantly let him drop the conversation.

Ilya waved at the occasional neighbor he saw as they took Anya around the loop of sidewalk that wound through cheery houses. Ilya hadn't admitted to anyone that he loved it here, but he did. It felt settled in a way that put ground under his feet. Which was good, because every time he glanced over and saw Shane walking beside him he felt dizzy with longing. He wished he could take Shane's hand and have that physical connection to him, but he worried Shane would flinch away if he tried.

"Do you not like Ottawa?" Ilya asked.

"I love Ottawa," Shane said. "My parents still live here. Why do you think I don't like Ottawa?"

"You sounded offended by me being traded here."

"Well. The Centaurs haven't made it to the playoffs in decades. Even with a great player like you they aren't winning anything any time soon. You have a good goalie now, but your left wing? Ugh. Do you like Ottawa?"

“Yes. Is different from Boston. Quiet. Friendly. It is… nice.”

“It must be hard, though,” Shane said softly. “To not be able to visit your family back in Russia. Do they ever come to see you?”

“I don’t have any family worth seeing in Russia,” Ilya said, trying to keep the ache of the last fight he’d had with his brother out of his voice and failing. “I miss Moscow, sometimes. I miss not having to speak in stupid English.”

“Do you have any friends who speak Russian?”

“Yes. Now stop asking me all these fucking questions, Hollander.”

They got back to the house and Ilya let Anya out into the yard to get her out of the way so he could shove Shane down on the couch and tear his clothes off. Shane was putty in his hands immediately, all wet brown eyes and lips swollen from the kisses he let Ilya have so easily, and Ilya... couldn't give this up.

Shane hadn't said a single word about dumping his boyfriend and running off into the sunset with Ilya, and Ilya was so deliriously infatuated with him that when Shane chose Ben over him it was going to fucking hurt. Why hadn't Ilya figured that out sooner? He might've held some piece of his heart back to make sure it remained intact when everything else shattered.

“Are we ordering in for dinner?” Shane asked dreamily against him afterwards.

Ilya actually hadn’t planned that part, because he’d never expected Shane would stay this long. “I can cook,” Ilya said, because he was at least fifty percent sure that was true and if Shane was dating Ben for his cooking skills, than Ilya needed to prove he could best him there, too.

Ilya pulled on clothes, checked his fridge, then got out his phone.

The Ilya Rozanov Fan Club

Ilya: Quick, need to cook something. Are tuna melts a good date food?

Rose: Honey. No.

Sveta: You are bad at this

Jackie: Chicken and rice maybe? I can send you a recipe. What do you have?

Ilya: [image of fridge shelves with vodka, coke, a Tupperware dish full of tuna and a six pack of ginger ale shoved in the back]

Jackie: Never mind, I’m out. You’re doomed

Hayden: Order something. You’re not going to show up Ben, that man has one hobby.

Sveta: Give Hollander enough vodka he doesn’t notice you fed him a tuna melt

Ilya: I don’t think he likes vodka :(

Sveta: You want to date this man why?

Ilya: He’s so pretty, Sveta

Ilya: And he’s so good at sucking my cock

Hayden left The Ilya Rozanov Fan Club

Jackie added Hayden to The Ilya Rozanov Fan Club

Jackie: Keep it PG, Ilya. There are delicate ears present

Hayden: Hey!

Rose: What if I sneakily bring you dinner from a fancy restaurant and then you pretend you cooked it?

Ilya: All of you are useless to me. Goodbye

Shane leaned against the counter while he watched Ilya cook. His phone continued ticking down the time beside his elbow, counting the hours until he'd have to leave. He was beginning to lose track of what he was doing here. He knew he was supposed to be getting Ilya out of his system, but he wasn't sure how injecting him straight into his veins was supposed to achieve that.

“Do you really need that?” Ilya asked, gesturing towards the timer on Shane's phone.

“I don't want to mess up,” Shane said. “Apparently an implied hall pass is twenty-four hours and I don't want to get it wrong.”

“Do you think Ben watched the clock when he was sleeping with someone else?” Ilya asked, an edge of sarcasm in his voice.

Shane paused. “What?”

“You don't think he decided you could sleep around because he'd already done it?”

Shane honestly had not considered that angle before, and now that he was.... he didn't care. He tried to picture it and feel upset, but the only thing he could summon was apathy. His relationship was over, wasn't it? Maybe it had been over since he'd decided to sleep with Ilya. He never would have considered fooling around with someone else back when his relationship with Ben had felt solid.

He pressed his forehead against the cool countertop to try and ground himself. He had no idea how to end a serious relationship. Sure, he'd ended the embarrassing attempts at relationships he'd had with women a few times, but Ben was different. Shane still remembered the rush he'd gotten when he'd first clocked that a man as handsome as Ben was asking him out. And then, well. They were very different people with complicated lives, but they'd almost been making it work. Their relationship had been something close to good, and then it had been fine. Now it wasn't even that, was it? It felt as non-existent as they'd always pretended it was in public. Could any relationship survive that?

“I need to go,” Shane said. He picked up his phone and paused the timer before he pocketed it.

“But—“

“I’m sorry, I can’t— This isn't going to work out. We're only going to hurt each other if we don't stop.”

“Shane.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated again.

The Ilya Rozanov Fan Club

Ilya: Tuna melts are cursed :(

Sveta: Rose and I are on our way over

Ilya: Thank you

Chapter 7: Couple of the Year!

Chapter Summary

Shane is not good at breakups.

Chapter Notes

I got the first half of this chapter written really fast, and then I looney tunesed myself straight into a wall. The good (?) news is I wrote the last two chapters while I was stuck on this one, so I'll probably post those tomorrow when I get done editing them. They're much shorter than this one. (The final chapter is really just a one scene epilogue.)

r/sex • 1 year ago

AnonymousHockeyPlayer24

Can I win at sex?

Got into a fight with my boyfriend when he caught me studying some articles on sex moves. I told him I want to improve so I can win at sex, he said that’s not how sex works and that I shouldn’t treat it at a competition. But if I’m the best at it, than I’m winning? I don’t understand.

Sort by: Best

potted_sex_plant

 He’s right. Sex is a team effort, not a competition.

   ↳AnonymousHockeyPlayer24

      Hockey is a team sport and that still has a winner.

         ↳potted_sex_plant

           Sex is not hockey. It’s more like growing a garden. You’re working together to make something beautiful.

              ↳AnonymousHockeyPlayer24

                 There are gardening competitions.

                    ↳potted_sex_plant

                       I can’t help you.

puck_bunny_9000

Is there something else going on here? Do you feel like you’re competing against his previous partners? You don’t need to be “the best” at performing certain sex acts, being in a relationship means sex is just another method of showing affection for each other.

Also, if you’re trying to be “the best” at something I think you’re going to have a bad time. There’s always going to be someone better than you. Like, If you’re really a hockey player, you know there are hockey players who are better than you, right? Even at the top levels, Scott Hunter knows he can’t keep up with Ilya Rozanov, and Rozanov knows that Shane Hollander is better than him. But players each still bring their own strengths to the team, and none of them could win on their own!

   ↳AnonymousHockeyPlayer24

    Fucking thank you, exactly. So I CAN win at sex, then.

     ↳puck_bunny_9000

     How is that what you got out of my comment.

sexy_single_pringle

No. Not how sex works. Get therapy and delete social media.

russian_lover_boy_81

Absolutely possible to win at sex, I do it all the time.

Shane ran through the words of his speech in his head again. He'd written it down on notecards, then decided that bringing notecards to a breakup lunch would go over badly.

They'd agreed to meet at a cafe halfway between their apartments. It was way too charming and sunny for the conversation they needed to have.

Shane waved and tried to smile when he spotted Ben already seated at a table. He thought about turning around and bolting to avoid this conversation, but he was an adult and needed to handle his relationship in a mature, responsible manner. Not that he'd been doing a good job of that so far. He could learn and grow.

"We need to talk," Shane said, as if he hadn't already said that over text. It was what people said in movies when they needed to break up, so it seemed like a good opening to him.

"We do," Ben said. “You asked me for a grand romantic gesture and I want to prove I’m serious about this relationship.”

“I didn’t ask you for—”

Ben pulled a small black box out of his pocket and put it on the table.

"Ben," Shane said slowly as his rehearsed speech went sideways. "I came here to break up with you."

Ben blinked. “Why?”

Shane wished he’d brought his notecards. “Because this is barely a relationship anymore. I had sex with Ilya. I wouldn’t have done that if—”

“I told you that was fine. You’re panicking about nothing. I want to marry you. Marriage could be good for both of us. Respectable. We could live together. We should have moved in together months ago. I know I've been dragging my feet, and—”

"We're breaking up right now," Shane said. "We don't work well together. Getting married won't solve that."

“Yes, it will. Being able to tell people about our relationship will solve everything. Don’t you want that?”

“Of course I wanted that. But it’s too late.”

Shane tried to push the ring box back across the table towards Ben, but Ben placed his hand over Shane's.

"Just take the ring. Think about it. Don't make any rash decisions."

Needing to end this relationship had been a hard decision, not a rash one. Shane reluctantly pocketed the ring. "I'll think about it."

"Thank you. That's all I ask."

***

Hayden half worried the knock on his front door was going to be Ilya Rozanov based on how his life had been going recently. He was relieved when he saw it was Shane, and then very, very worried. 

"Bad day?" Hayden asked.

"Sort of. Can I hang out here for a bit?"

"Sure, buddy. Whatever you need. Jackie’s actually getting lunch ready for the kids right now, I should tell her you’re… staying?”

“Yeah.” Shane collapsed bonelessly on his couch. "I miss Ilya."

“Uh.”

“Do you think he’d talk to me if I called him? I don’t think I handled ending our hookup very well.” Shane frowned and fished a black box out of his pocket then set it on the coffee table in front of him.

“Shane?”

“I’m not going to marry Ben.”

Thank god. Hayden tried to take a calming breath. “Then why do you have an engagement ring?” Nope, his voice was still an entire octave higher than it should have been.

“I said we were breaking up and he told me to think about it.”

“Shane.” Hayden kneaded his forehead with his hands. This was a Jackie level disaster. “Jackie,” he shouted toward the kitchen. “Shane is here.” Help, he tried to psychically convey to her.

Jackie appeared in the living room immediately, because years of marriage had given them both the super power of picking up panic signals through air vibrations like bats. Hayden sighed in relief.

“Hey, Shane,” Jackie said. “You staying for lunch?”

“Shane is so polite he couldn’t figure out how to break up with his boyfriend and now he’s engaged,” Hayden said quickly.

“I’m not engaged.”

“Is that an engagement ring?” Jackie asked.

“Okay, yes, it’s an engagement ring, but I said no to the engagement. Ben gave me the ring anyway so I could think it over.”

“Shane.” Jackie kneaded her forehead identically to Hayden. “You know what? I have errands to run later, why don’t I drop by Ben’s place and return that for you?”

That was why Hayden had married Jackie, she was a genius.

“That would be rude.” Shane flipped the ring box open and closed absently.

Hayden reached over and snapped the ring box closed. “You can’t legally bind yourself to someone in a way that gives them half your property because you’re worried about being rude.” He collapsed into an armchair across from Shane and gave in to the questionable urge to ask the group chat for help.

The Ilya Rozanov Fan Club

Hayden: How do I convince Shane to be rude?

Svetlana: Tell him he’s bad at hockey

Rose Landry (WTF?): Have him wear an earpiece and feed him lines.

Ilya: Tell him it’s hot and offer to blow him as a reward if he does a good job.

Hayden: Not doing any of that, thanks.

“What if I did marry him, though?” Shane asked.

“Jackie,” Hayden said in distress.

Jackie pushed away the ring box and sat on the coffee table near Shane. “You’re trying to break up with him.”

“But it would be respectable, right? It would sound serious and settled. Maybe I could come out and it would be more accepted.”

“Ben thinks you’re bad at hockey,” Hayden lied wildly. “I overheard him say so.”

“What?”

“Wrong approach,” Jackie whispered.

“Ilya thinks it would be hot if you were rude?”

There was a pause long enough that Hayden wanted to scrub all memory of the words he’d just said out of his mind with an eraser made of bleach.

“Are you texting Ilya right now?” Shane finally asked.

“Uh.” Hayden hid his phone under his leg. “No.”

“Hayden.”

“We’re friends?”

“Don’t tell Ilya I’m engaged to Ben.”

This, Hayden realized, was an opening. “I won’t tell him if you let Jackie return the ring.”

“I’m not having Jackie do it for me.”

“Then I’m texting Ilya.” Hayden dramatically held up his phone and spoke aloud as he typed. “Hey, Ilya Rozanov, my close friend. Just thought you would want to congratulate Shane on—”

Hayden barely registered Shane was moving before Shane tackled him. Hayden lost a lungful of air and dropped the phone in his hand. Shane kicked it away from him, probably more on instinct than anything because it didn’t make sense as a phone acquisition tactic.

Jackie grabbed the phone. “We don’t need six children in this house.”

Hayden and Shane grumbled apologies.

“Speaking of which,” Jackie said. “Make yourselves useful and get the kids’ lunch. It’s nice enough today they can eat outside.”

***

Montreal was playing Ottawa for their final match of the regular season before the playoffs. Ottawa was already too far behind to reach the playoffs, and Montreal’s spot was secure. There were barely any stakes to the game, hockey-wise. The stakes for Shane’s personal life felt much higher.

Ilya hadn't talked to him once since Shane had walked out of his apartment, and he’d checked his phone approximately every five minutes. Was this the sort of conversation Shane was supposed to start? Maybe it was better saved for in person, assuming Ilya would give him the time of day.

Shane avoided even glancing toward Ottawa during warmups. When they met at center ice to start the game, the tension between them was unbearable.

"Hollander," was all Ilya said.

Shane didn’t know how the hell he was going to fix this. The game wasn't their best. When it ended 0-1 in Montreal's favor, Shane mostly just wondered if either side had even been trying. The goalies definitely had, at least.

Shane steeled his nerve and skated over to Ilya as the final buzzer sounded. "I didn't mean to leave things like that."

"Like what? Was just a hookup."

"Umm, yeah. Okay." Shane started to turn away from him to go nurse his bruised feelings somewhere else.

"Wait." Ilya let out a sigh. "Can I come over so we can have this conversation privately?"

"Yes," Shane said, then worried he'd just sounded way too eager. Whatever, he’d said worse when Ilya had been on top of him.

“Good. I’ll be over later.”

***

He really couldn’t have specified a time? Shane paced around his apartment as he waited for Ilya to bother showing up. Assuming Ilya wasn’t ghosting him to make a point. Shane doubted it, though. Ilya chirped like an asshole, but he didn’t act like one when it counted.

There was a knock at the door. Shane nearly jumped out of his skin. He reminded himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Probably. He opened the door to let Ilya in.

It shouldn’t have hit him like a fist that Ilya was in his apartment. Ilya had been over just the other week. The blood in his veins still felt too hot, somehow.

“Are you engaged to Ben?” Ilya asked.

“Did Hayden— No.”

“Hmm. Twitter saw your boyfriend buying an engagement ring. Had a lot of opinions about it. You should correct them.”

“I’m not getting into an argument with twitter. And I don’t want to talk about Ben right now.”

“You sure? Because I have opinions, too.”

“Keep them to yourself.”

“Rude, Hollander. And here I thought you wanted to grovel.”

“I— don’t call me Hollander.”

“Why not? Are you changing your name? Confusing for jersey sales.”

“I’m not changing my name, I just don’t want to act like we’re only… coworkers.”

“Then what are we?”

Shane didn’t have the words to answer that, so he leaned forward and kissed him instead. Ilya fisted a hand in his hair when he kissed him back, as if he was trying to physically keep Shane with him. In direct contradiction to that idea, Ilya broke the kiss and asked, “Not worried about your boyfriend?”

Shane pulled his phone out of his pocket, opened the timer app, and hit the start button. The phone tumbled out his hand and hit the ground when Ilya grabbed him. Shane didn’t bother to check on it. The case was capable of keeping the phone intact even if it was used as a hockey puck according to the advertisement he’d filmed for it. His phone would be fine.

Shane contemplated the lamp on his nightstand as if it held the answers to the universe, or at least to his relationship problems. He probably shouldn’t have let Ilya fuck him in his own bed. Twice. Did it count as let him if he’d begged for it the second time?

“Only one toothbrush?” Ilya asked as he stepped out of the bathroom.

“Why would I need more than one toothbrush? If you need one there’s a pack in the drawer.”

“Ben throws out his toothbrush every time he uses it? Sounds bad for the environment.”

“Ben doesn’t keep his things here. He brings a bag.”

“Like his boyfriend’s apartment is a hotel.”

“No, I— he has a drawer.” Not that Ben had ever kept anything in the drawer. Shane had cleared it out a few months into their relationship, a gesture of serious commitment according to an article he’d read. The gesture had turned out to be as empty as the drawer.

Well, there was one thing in it now. Shane had chucked the engagement ring there, a problem to be dealt with later.

There weren’t even any pictures of Ben displayed in the apartment on the off chance someone who didn’t know about his relationship visited and took offense. Mostly Shane told himself he didn’t mind, but today it felt like… the pieces of his life were too far apart from each other to be reconciled.

Ilya returned from his dentistry and snooping. “This wasn’t anything,” he said in a tone he clearly thought was reassuring. “We could meet up again.”

“No,” Shane said. “I’m not pretending we’re just hooking up. I know I’ve fucked everything up, I just— I wish I didn’t want so much. I don’t know how to do this.”

“Don’t marry Ben. Start with that.”

“I never said I was going to. I don’t know what the internet or Hayden or whoever your source was told you, but I turned Ben down.”

“So you gave the ring back?”

Shane wanted to lie, but couldn’t bring himself to, so he didn’t say anything even though he knew that was answer enough. “I have to focus on playoffs,” he finally said after letting the silence fill the room for far too long.

“I think it’s my turn to be the one walking out, yes?”

“Yeah.” Shane thunked his head back down on the pillow and listened for the sound of the door closing.

Later, Shane found a single one of Ilya’s socks lying on the floor. How did a person forget one sock? It didn’t even make sense. Shane tossed it into the empty drawer along with the engagement ring then shut it with a definitive click.

The Neutral Zone Podcast Transcript

Kevin: Montreal wins the Stanley Cup, no shock there.

Adrian: Did you want a shocking upset?

Kevin: It would get us more views. I wouldn’t bet against Hollander’s determination to add another Stanley Cup win to his record, though.

Adrian: No, that sounds like a good way to lose a lot of money.

Kevin: So the MHL awards. Are there even any other contenders for MVP, or are we just pretending it’s a contest at this point?

Adrian: Scott Hunter had a good season.

Kevin: Can I be honest?

Adrian: Is this about—

Kevin: His last speech. I don’t think the league is interested in giving Scott Hunter a stage again. There’s still a lot of people in the hockey world who feel like he’s been ungrateful.

Adrian: This podcast isn’t political, I don’t think we should get into—

Kevin: No, no, we’ll move on. I’ve heard Ottawa is looking to trade Tanner Dillon.

They were avoiding each other. It had barely been noticeable during the playoffs when Shane had obviously been focused on the championship and Ilya had distracted himself with Svetlana’s relationship drama instead of his own. He was actually pretty sure Svetlana and Rose had just been making up drama to entertain him and themselves. At least, he hoped Rose wasn’t really planning on pretending she and Svetlana were in a fake relationship meant to fool the press while still actually being in a real relationship.

Even Hayden had been too busy playing hockey to text him back, and Ilya sometimes wondered if Hayden Pike even knew how to play hockey. Ilya decided to be generous and admit that maybe playing on a line with Shane Hollander caused Hayden to be overshadowed. He would have been the best player on the team if he played for Buffalo.

The avoidance was more noticeable now at the social hour before the MHL awards began. Shane and Ilya were mingling on complete opposite sides of the ballroom. Ilya had no idea how to close the gap between them, especially because Ben was sitting at a table on Shane’s side of the ballroom, calmly eating hors d’oeuvre as if he belonged there. 

It occurred to Ilya that this Shane already having a boyfriend problem he’d been trying to untangle had a second half he hadn't even tried to approach yet. He walked up to where Ben was standing at a table alone and set down his drink.

"Break up with Shane," Ilya said, not bothering with pleasantries. "You don't even want to be dating him. You're making him miserable."

Ben looked up from his phone slowly. "You think I don't want to be dating my famously handsome pro-athlete boyfriend?"

Ilya hadn't actually prepared a response to that very obvious point, so he went with, "Yes."

"Huh." Ben actually looked contemplative. "You know, most people tell me I'd have to be crazy to break up with Shane Hollander, even when I try to tell them that Canada's sweetheart is an absolute nightmare of neurosis and only has one conversation topic."

Ilya's eyeball twitched. "Who the fuck cares about those people? Is your life, yes? They aren't the ones dating your boyfriend." I would give my right arm to be dating your boyfriend, Ilya thought, but didn't say because it didn't seem like a helpful sentiment right then and he really seemed to be getting somewhere.

Ben continued ranting, on a roll now, apparently. “And you'd think the one place he could drop being competitive would be the bedroom, but no. I don't want to know who can hold out for the longest, I just want to have sex.”

Maybe Ben had never had anyone to complain to about Shane before, but Ilya was exactly the wrong audience for whatever the fuck this was. “I can see why you're so committed to making your relationship work.” Ilya couldn't keep the bite of sarcasm out of his voice.

Ben started as if he'd just now remembered this was an inappropriate venue for bitching about his boyfriend. “Of course I’m— All my friends are jealous of my relationship, obviously. I can put up with— It's not that big a deal.”

"Can you fight?" Ilya asked as his annoyance finally won.

"Ilya." Because of fucking course that was the moment that Shane decided to intervene in what he no doubt saw as Ilya harassing his boyfriend.

Ilya grabbed his drink. "I was just leaving."

Ben looked annoyingly smug about Shane having rescued him. Ilya left them to their whispered… conversation? argument? and headed back towards his side of the ballroom.

He didn't make it far before Shane's parents cornered him.

"Yuna Hollander," Shane's mother said, holding out her hand. "I want to see Ottawa in the playoffs next year."

"Uh," Ilya said.

"Sorry, I've been texting with Jackie Pike. I should have led with that."

"You're joining the anti-Ben group chat?"

"No, no," David Hollander said. "We're not interfering in our son's love life. We completely support Shane's questionable dating decisions."

"Then you should be talking to your future son-in-law, not me."

"Shane isn't marrying Ben," Yuna said. "He hasn't even mentioned a proposal to us. We heard it from Jackie. If he had any intention of accepting, he would have told us by now."

"We're in Ottawa, you know," David said cheerily. "We should meet for lunch."

"Lunch?" Ilya said faintly. Then he shook his shock off, because he liked lunch. "Shane mentioned you also like Paws and Drink Tea."

David's eyes lit up. "Have you checked out their jigsaw puzzle collection?"

"Who's your agent?" Yuna interrupted. "It might be easier if you switch to the same agency as Shane."

Ilya walked away from the conversation with a business card, a plan to meet for lunch the next day, and the confused impression that he'd just been adopted.

***

Shane thought he did a good job of politely pretending to be surprised when he was announced as MVP. They'd made him get his speech pre-approved for the first time ever after he'd told them he'd invited Ben, even though he'd been very clear that they'd be arriving separately and he wouldn't even mention Ben in his speech.

He blinked in the spotlight and focused on the teleprompter in front of him as he talked about team efforts and how he couldn't have done it on his own. Then he reached the part where he was sure he'd thanked his parents, he remembered writing it down, but the words on the screen abruptly ended.

He obviously wasn't going to skip that part, so he tried to remember enough to keep going, but his mic cut out.

Roger Crowell stepped out onto the stage with a smile and a polite golf clap. The implication was clearly that Shane was meant to leave the stage.

What was this? His speech had been approved. Did they think he was going to go rogue? Based on what? He'd never gone against the league, whether their calls made sense to him or not.

He walked off stage numbly. When he reached the wings he felt a hand on his arm. He had to blink to bring Ilya into focus.

"Shane?"

Shane shuddered, Ilya's voice a reassuring balm on his nerves. He'd walked away from Ilya, walked away from everything he'd wanted for this league. "I'm never going to be perfect enough, am I?"

“Fuck them. If you ever had anything to prove, you've proved it a million times by now."

"Because I'm Shane fucking Hollander."

Ilya grinned and squeezed his arm.

Shane turned back around. Ilya looked confused, but not nearly as baffled as Shane was at himself as he stormed back out onto the stage. Shane slammed his trophy down on the podium in front of Roger Crowell's face.

"I'm gay, fuck you." It registered to him that there might be children watching, his parents were in the audience, and he'd just cursed on live TV. "Sorry," he said to the audience, not to Crowell.

He tried not to think about what he'd just down as he walked off stage, grabbed Ilya, and dragged him along on his way to the exit. The physical contact of Ilya's shirt balled in his fist kept him grounded until he made it into the fresh air of the parking lot.

@PuckingHockey: What the fuck, can we not keep this shit out of hockey? Can normal men not have one thing to themselves?

@StillaCensFanForSomeReason: If by normal men you mean homophobes, then no. I will personally ensure everything you love becomes gay before your very eyes.

@MontrealFan4Life: Big win for gay hockey fans with a dream, tbh.

@HockeySpiceSeason: Yes, representation is important! Playing hockey is for everyone!

   ↳@MontrealFan4Life: Who said anything about playing hockey? The dream is being topped by Shane Hollander.

@HollanovClown: Here's how Hollanov can still win. (1/2481)

@BostonRaidMe: Hollander's literal boyfriend was in the audience. Hollanov is not happening. Not now, not ever. They don't even like each other.

Shane leaned against his practical car with Ilya beside him. At least they were somewhat hidden from anyone who casually stepped outside.

Shane blew out a breath. "I think I just ended my hockey career."

"Why would you think that? Because you said 'fuck you' to the league commissioner? I once called a fan a racist prick on live TV, and I still have a career."

"Different," Shane said. "Fuck. Give me a minute." Shane pulled out his phone and sent a text to Ben. I'll have Jackie drop by to return the ring and your spare key. I don't think we should see each other again.

He felt a little guilty for resorting to this method, but he'd tried to break up with Ben in person twice, and he was done with fighting about it. Anyway, if he'd already blown up his career, a respectable fiancé he had nothing in common with wasn't going to save him.

"Texting whoever runs your Instagram?" Ilya asked. "You'll want to shut down your DMs for a while."

"No, my mom runs my Instagram. I was texting Ben to tell him it's over. Wait, why do I need to shut down my DMs? Are people going to be that shitty to me on Instagram?"

"Yes, they'll be terrible. Please turn off your DMs so you don't see any of the hate messages you're about to get, or the five thousand DMs begging you to go out with them.”

"There won't be five thousand-" Shane's phone dinged and he looked down at Ben's text. "He replied with a thumbs up emoji. What the fuck?" Shane tilted the phone towards Ilya and Ilya burst out laughing when he saw it.

“You were right,” Shane said. “I should have texted him we were breaking up when you told me to the first time.”

"We could have fucked more."

Shane started to argue, then had to admit to himself that yeah, they could have fucked more. He took a deep breath and decided to face the elephant in the parking lot straight on. "I don't want this to be a rebound. Or something that gets fucked up because I didn’t process my last relationship, or... Give me time. I need... to sort out my kitchen that now has drawers full of appliances I don't know how to use, and I need to deal with the fallout of whatever the fuck I've just done to my life. If you can't wait around that's... it's not fine, but I'll understand."

"Our teams will probably play each other in October," Ilya said. "That's four months of time, at least."

"If Montreal lets me keep playing."

"They will."

Shane smiled slowly and held out his hand for Ilya to shake. "Then I'll see you in October, Ilya Rozanov."

The Ilya Rozanov Fan Club

Ilya: Rose, can you think of a way to distract the internet from Shane?

Rose: Distract from what?

Ilya: [link]

Rose: Oh my god. On it!

Svetlana: This is not going to go well

Rose: [screenshot of a social media post reading: I am so inspired by Shane Hollander’s bravery that I’ve decided to reveal my own big gay secret. (Picture of Rose smiling with her arms around Svetlana.) That’s right, I’m gay, fuck you (sorry).]

Svetlana: Calling it a big gay secret is bi erasure

Hayden: What did you do? No one watches the MHL awards. Maybe five people had seen that video before and now it’s trending on twitter?

Jackie: At least the Rose Landry fangirls saying they would die for Shane Hollander are drowning out the hockey podcasters saying Shane should be kicked out of the league for foul language

Ilya: Foul language??? There’d be no hockey players left. Rinks everywhere, empty. Pucks, denied their meet cute with a hockey stick. The back of the net, lost, never found.

Hayden: I’m not sure Rose Landry fans are the hockey viewership the league is concerned with

Svetlana: MHL took down the recording of the awards. Fangirls seem to have already uploaded their own cuts. Probably take down notices will go out next.

Rose: Ugh, the man is always trying to keep us down

Hayden: Isn’t the video getting taken down a good thing? Whose side are you even on at this point?

Rose: The side where I pulled a muscle laughing at that video. Ilya, you have to let me meet Shane, I NEED him to be my best friend

Ilya: Not until after I complete my two step plan to make him my boyfriend

Svetlana: There’s a new plan? With fewer steps?

Ilya: Step one: wait until October. Step two: say yes when Shane asks me to be his boyfriend

Jackie: Sounds way more achievable than the last one

Hayden: Don’t encourage this

Chapter 8: It was a prank!

Chapter Summary

The mice and men didn't even have time to lay the plan before the internet ruined it.

Chapter Notes

It's the all social media chapter! There were a lot of tweet replies in this one, I hope it's not too confusing.

Channel: The Bradening

Video transcript:

[Shaky cell phone footage of a hotel door.]

Brad (whispering): I saw Ilya Rozanov enter that room on the security camera. According to the guest logs, that’s Shane Hollander’s room! Chat, what the fuck is happening? Are they actually friends now?

[The door opens. Ilya Rozanov steps out.]

Rozanov: …secret agent shit. Would it help if I wore sunglasses?

Hollander, from inside the room: Shh, someone will hear you!

Rozanov: If they can hear me then they heard you ten minutes ago—

[Hands reach out and yank Rozanov back into the room. The door closes.]

Brad, still whispering: So that was definitely Rozanov, right? Drop an emoji in the comments if you agree.

[The door reopens. Shane Hollander emerges and starts to check the hallway.]

Hollander: …still need a better plan than making out after a game to announce it.

Rozanov: No, that plan is perfect. Impossible to improve.

[Rozanov drags Hollander into a kiss. Hollander waits a beat then shoves him away.]

Hollander: I don’t need another internet scandal.

[Video ends.]

Statement from the Hilton:

We are aware of a video posted online featuring footage of two of our guests. After an internal investigation, we have fired the employee responsible. We take customer privacy seriously and would like to apologize to everyone impacted by these actions.

Hayden: Shit, has anyone heard from Shane?

Jackie: Ilya has him

Hayden: I hate that I find that reassuring. Ugh, Shane’s going to end up in Ottawa, isn’t he?

Jackie: I don’t think you want me to answer that.

Statement from the MHL:

We have been looking into a recent incident involving two of our players and have come to the conclusion that the incident in question was a prank done in poor taste. The players involved have been reprimanded for their behavior.

To: Commissioner Roger Crowell

From: Farah Jalali

My client did not approve of the statement posted by your office on his behalf and we demand an immediate deletion along with a public retraction of the sentiment.

@IlyaRozanov81: Yes, I fucked Shane Hollander “as a prank”

@MHLOfficial: It’s important to keep in mind that Ilya Rozanov has a very dry sense of humor and his jokes don’t always translate well. Our PR people are attempting to contact him.

@IlyaRozanov81: Shane Hollander wanted me to give him a blowjob so bad he cried, is that translating well?

   ↳@MontrealFan4Life: Bro. You did not pull Shane Hollander. Get real.

      ↳@IlyaRozanov81: Hollander says I am not allowed to post a sex tape as proof, but I would be willing to provide a sketch.

@StillaCensFanForSomeReason: Ilya Rozanov might be our first recorded case of a category five disaster bisexual.

@ZamboniBunny: Ilya Rozanov caused power grid failure, threatened the structural integrity of framed houses, and did millions in property damage?

↳@StillaCensFanForSomeReason: Yes, as a prank.

Neutral Zone Podcast Transcript

Brad: No one has ever been as cancelled as I’ve been.

Adrian: So where else can our listeners hear from you?

Brad: I’m continuing my talk show circuit with an interview on CBS next.

@SkateMeAway: Wait, didn’t Hollander have a boyfriend? Or a fiancé? Something like that? Does he have an opinion on these rumors?

@BostonRaidMe: They haven’t been seen together in months. Kind of seems like they broke up.

@SuperHERoGirlie: Rose Landry's best friend made out with his rival as a prank? Honestly, good for him. @SuperVillianessGirlie you wanna make out sometime? Haha, kidding. 😏

@IlyaRozanov81: IT WASN'T A PRANK. HE'S MY BOYFRIEND. HERE IS A PICTURE I DREW OF US TOGETHER WITH A HEART AROUND IT.

           

↳@SuperHERoGirlie: I honestly can't tell if you're joking right now.

@HockeySpiceSeason: Has anyone checked on @HollanovClown lately?

@HollanovClown: I am having a week 😭

@ObliviousAmericanGirl: Canadian mutuals, I see your memes and I’m sure you’re hilarious, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. Can anyone fill me in?

@ZamboniBunny: So there’s these two hockey players. Some guy named Brad filmed them kissing and posted it online. The hockey league says it was just a prank. One of the hockey players disagrees and says they fucked, but he’s kind of a known troll. The other player hasn’t said anything, because he’s chronically offline.

@ZamboniBunny: To make it even messier, there’s rumors that the offline one is bringing legal action against the league because the league is trying to make a new rule saying opposing players can’t be in a relationship.

 ↳@ObliviousAmericanGirl: Oh my god, wouldn’t that be discrimination? And what about women’s hockey? Aren’t there opposing players who are married there?

  ↳@ZamboniBunny: Yup! But people are trying to say it’s different because there’s a lot more money involved in the men’s league. You know, salaries, ticket sales. Gambling. So much gambling.

  ↳@ObliviousAmericanGirl: Still seems like illegal discrimination, but okay. So, um. Are they fucking?

   ↳@ZamboniBunny: Don’t know! You’ll just have to follow @IlyaRozanov81 and be horny and confused like the rest of us. Shane Hollander doesn’t have a twitter, but he occasionally posts official stuff on Instagram. [link]

   ↳@ObliviousAmericanGirl: Wait, why does Shane Hollander look familiar? I swear I’ve never watched hockey.

   ↳@ZamboniBunny: There was this whole thing where Rose Landry fans reposted a video of him everywhere and then protested outside the MHL offices until the MHL agreed that maybe you can’t cancel a hockey player’s contract over foul language, so could be that?

    ↳@ObliviousAmericanGirl: I literally know nothing about that. Hockey is a lot more dramatic than I thought.

    ↳@ZamboniBunny: He’s done a lot of ads. Maybe you saw the Calvin Klein one?

     ↳@ObliviousAmericanGirl: OH MY GOD, he’s hot billboard guy??? I understand you now, @IlyaRozanov81. I would also fight a multi-million dollar organization to prove I had banged Hot Billboard Guy.

       ↳@IlyaRozanov81: THANK YOU. Now can you explain to the rest of twitter that I fucked him?

        ↳@ObliviousAmericanGirl: Girl, I don’t even go here, but I’ll try.

@ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer via Instagram

…in regards to my successful legal action, I would like to thank my legal team for their dedication and thoughtful analysis of the field. I bear no ill will against the league and would like to continue to avoid a public airing or private matters…

@HollanovClown: I can’t believe I spent five hours trying to read this fucking novel of legalese and then roped my lawyer!sister into translating it into simple terms for me, and I still don’t know whether Ilya Rozanov is fucking Shane Hollander.

@ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer: *dating. Ilya Rozanov is dating Shane Hollander.

Ilya: Why is it that I make a hundred posts and people say I am joking, but you make one post and everyone believes we are dating now?

Shane: I told you to make an official statement.

@IlyaRozanov81: Official statement: my boyfriend Shane Hollander came on my cock this morning.

@ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer: DELETE THIS.

@CensKeepLosing: Everyone knows you’re dating now, you don’t have to keep making up stories.

  ↳@IlyaRozanov81: Making up????

@HaydenPikeActual: I am once again stating that I am proud to support my best friend and I wouldn’t want anyone else as team captain. Anyone who can’t see how dedicated to the sport Shane is doesn’t deserve to be on the same ice as him. And I guess I also support Ilya Rozanov.

@IlyaRozanov81: Wow. Whatever would I do without Hayden Pike’s approval.

 ↳@HaydenPikeActual: Fuck off. And don’t forget you said you’re bringing dessert to dinner tomorrow.

   ↳@IlyaRozanov81: I made a dog cake for Anya :)

     ↳@HaydenPikeActual: And a human cake for humans, right? Ilya?

Statement from Montreal Metros:

We have concluded our investigation into the unfounded rumors of homophobia on our team, and have found no evidence of a hostile environment. We are, as ever, committed to inclusion. Hockey is for everyone!

@MHLNews: Breaking: Shane Hollander has been traded to Ottawa.

Chapter 9: Epilogue

Chapter Notes

Just a quick epilogue to put a cute little bow on the story. Does anyone else remember that twitter guy with the really long list of towels he said everyone needed to have? I feel like Shane "an expert told me this is how many pillows I should have" Hollander would totally have gone out and bought all those towels.

I can't begin to express how grateful I am for everyone who has read this story. You all are amazing. ❤️

It was a Saturday night, so of course Hayden found Shane Hollander cataloging towels in his new apartment in Ottawa. What he didn’t expect was to find Ilya Rozanov there as well, clipboard in hand, Anya napping on his lap.

“What’s a bath sheet?” Ilya asked.

Shane was sorting through a pile of towels that just objectively seemed like too many to Hayden. "A giant bath towel the size of a small sheet.”

"Are you sure you need this many towels?" Hayden asked. "Is there some towel-pocalypse on its way I should be worried about?"

"I got this list from a household goods expert," Shane said defensively. "And I'll only be in this apartment for a year before I move in with..." He flushed and refocused on his spreadsheet.

Ilya grinned. "We'll barely be here. My house is better. And there's no yard here for Anya."

"It's dog friendly, and there's a dog park right outside."

"And there's forty-thousand towels," Ilya said, dead pan.

"It's not forty-thousand, you're supposed to be counting them."

"I am."

"Hayden, you said you had some news?"

Hayden blinked. "Sorry. Still trying to process Ilya Rozanov counting towels. I'm starting to think that if I open a dictionary to whipped, it'll just be a picture of Ilya's face."

"Why would they put a picture of Ilya in the dictionary?" Shane asked. "That would be expensive. Color printing, licensing fees. And do people even have physical dictionaries anymore?"

"No, Shane," Hayden said. "I don't think people still use physical dictionaries."

Shane nodded as if his point had been made. Ilya gazed at Shane with the sort of sappy, love-sick expression Hayden wouldn't have previously thought Ilya's face was capable of.

"I didn't sign an extension with Montreal," Hayden finally said. "I'll be a free agent next season. I don't know where I'll go yet, but... not Montreal."

"Ottawa," Shane said immediately. "We're winning a cup this year. And next year. All the years, really, if I have anything to say about it."

"Ottawa might not have the salary cap space," Hayden said.

Ilya scoffed. "We won't need that much space."

Hayden checked his phone as he was leaving and saw a text from Jackie asking how it went. Ilya is good for him, Hayden typed reluctantly. Shane seems happy.

He does, doesn't he? Jackie texted back. Ilya is great. It's almost like I predicted it.

Hayden sighed. The flaw with marrying a genius was that she was always right.

Chapter End Notes

I made a new tumblr for this account! It's also @trickysnail

Works inspired by this one

Podfic - Shane Hollander is Dating a Nice Man From Montreal! by DiabolicalWordreader (DiabolicalWorldwriter)