Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Original Children of Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Yuna Hollander, David Hollander, Troy Barrett, Harris Drover, Ottawa Centaurs Team Ensemble (Game Changers), Hayden Pike, Jackie Pike, Hayden Pike's Children, Luca Haas, Zane Boodram, Evan Dykstra, Wyatt Hayes, Brandon Wiebe

Additional Tags:

Slow Burn, Slow Build, Falling In Love, Getting Back Together, Reunion Sex, Reunited and It Feels so Good, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Single Parent Shane Hollander, Hockey Coach Ilya Rozanov, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Light Angst, Happily Ever After, Happy Ending, Hockey, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Bliss, POV Shane Hollander, Ottawa Centaurs (Game Changers), Supportive Ottawa Centaurs (Game Changers), Ottawa Centaurs Player Shane Hollander, Coming Out, Emotional Intimacy, Non-Sexual Intimacy, step parent Ilya Rozanov, Good Parent Shane Hollander, Consent King Ilya Rozanov, Relationship Reveal

Language:

English

Series:

Part 1 of Shane, Ollie and Illy

Stats:

Published: 2026-05-15 Completed: 2026-06-21 Words: 114,785 Chapters: 16/16

We Just Did It For You And Me

Summary

Ilya let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I want to be perfect for you, Shane. To make up for all the time we lost.”

“I don’t want perfect,” Shane said quietly, stroking Ilya’s cheek. “I want something real. Something that we fight to make work, because we want it so much. Because being together is so much fucking better than being without each other.”

***

Ten years ago, Shane and Ilya loved each other in secret and let each other go anyway.

Now Shane, captain of the Ottawa Centaurs, is a single dad to four-year-old Ollie, and good at pretending he doesn’t think about the man he lost when they were younger and terrified of the fallout of being caught. Then one chance meeting turns into drinks, lingering looks, old feelings, and suddenly Ilya Rozanov is everywhere again.

Some things, it turns out, never really leave you.

As Shane and Ilya fall back into each other’s lives - and into something softer, steadier, and openly theirs this time — they realise maybe they’re finally ready for the life they used to dream about.

Or: two hockey players who were each other’s first love reconnect ten years later and slowly build the family they always wanted.

Notes

Timeline information:
For this fic, the timeline is as follows:

Shane has won 4 Stanley Cups:
2015 and 2016 with the Metros
2021 and 2022 with the Centaurs

Ollie was born in late Summer in 2018, with Shane transferring to Ottawa three months later.

Ilya has won three Stanley Cups:
2014, 2018 and 2019 with the Raiders
He traded to Anaheim for the 2019/2020 season and played the 2020/2021 season before retiring and becoming a coach.

Scott Hunter won the Stanley Cup in 2017 with the Admirals.

 

*****

 

Thank you so much to the amazing wipwip_again on Threads for the gorgeous cover! (Original photo from Aika).

Chapter 1

Chapter Summary

One on One on the Ice

Remembering Goodbye

Thinking of the End as a Beginning...

Chapter Notes

Here we go! The reaction to the snippets I've posted on Ao3 have blown up, which makes me both excited to share it, and terrified at the same time.

I have poured so much love into this one and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

The prompt came from the amazing Sylwia, who has an amazing imagination and was gracious enough to allow me to write this.

My amazing beta Kelsey is phenomenal - this would not be what it is without her.Thank you for all you do! Please check out her fics right here.

Please enjoy, and do let me know your thoughts in the comments as you go, I love to read them.

Shane Hollander knelt down beside the bench, reaching for the laces that he had tied countless times before, smiling as he took them into his hands.

“Leave your visor alone, Ollie,” he chided gently, pleased when the little boy in front of him did as he was told. “Remind me why you need your visor please?”

“Betection, Daddy,” came a small voice and Shane smiled, nodding as he tied the laces tightly.

“Protection, that’s right, we have to look after your face. Other foot, please.”

Oliver Hollander, or Ollie as he and his dad Shane preferred, nodded, stretching out his other foot so his father could tie his lace. There had been no practice with the Centaurs today, so Shane had taken advantage of a free day and had brought Ollie down to the rink with him. Being Captain had its advantages, and access to the rink out of hours was one of them that Shane was making the most out of.

“Okay, all done. Are you ready to go out and practice?”

Ollie nodded, and Shane grinned, holding his hand as they walked towards the ice together. There was a step to get onto the ice that Ollie, with his little four year old legs, still struggled to get over so Shane hoisted him up under the arms, carefully setting him down on the icy surface, waiting until he’d gotten his balance before joining him.

“Alright, I’m following you, off you go.”

Shane was glad that he’d had Ollie on the ice since he’d started walking. His son had a natural ability that Shane knew you just couldn’t teach, and although hockey was embedded in his DNA, Ollie's skills were still something Shane was incredibly proud of. He’d spent a small fortune making sure that Ollie had the best of everything, and as the boy’s love of being on the ice had grown, so had Shane’s enthusiasm for teaching him.

He’d promised his mom countless times that he wasn’t doing this just to push Ollie into a career in hockey, and he meant it. If Ollie made the decision that he wanted to play when he was older, then that was great, and Shane would do everything he could to support him. If not, though, if hockey was only destined to be something they could enjoy together around Shane’s own games, then that was fine too.

All Shane wanted was for his son to be happy, whatever that looked like for him in the future. As much as Shane couldn’t wait to find out, he also wanted time to slow down because it seemed inconceivable sometimes that this little boy of his was already four years old. His mom was right - time really did start to fly by when you least wanted it to.
“Right, let’s speed up a bit, Ol. I’ll try and catch you!”

Ollie’s resulting giggle put an enormous smile on Shane’s face, and he watched carefully as Ollie easily moved himself around, his technique so much like Shane’s own, it was almost uncanny.

“Go, kiddo!” came a familiar voice from the sidelines, and Shane glanced over, grinning and giving his mom a quick wave. He continued to weave around the ice, pretending to grab for Ollie’s jersey but just missing which made the little boy scream even louder, skating as fast as his little legs could propel him over the smooth surface. Eventually, he slammed rather ungracefully into the boards in front of Yuna and Shane slid to a stop opposite, making Ollie laugh yet again as he sprayed him with ice.

“Daddy, it’s cold!”

“Sorry, bud, you good?” Shane asked, getting closer and brushing the icy mess from Ollie’s hair and neck. “Hey, Mom. Didn’t expect you to be here so early, I thought I said come at two?”

“Oh, I know, but you know how much I love to watch my boys skate. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Never,” Shane replied easily, meaning it.

If he was being honest, there was no way he could live his life in the way he did without the support of his parents. Not only had they been the most supportive parents when Shane had come out as gay to them a few years ago, they’d also completely embraced the fact Shane was going to be a dad when he announced his ex-girlfriend was expecting their baby. He’d been honest with them, explaining that he was going to raise the baby alone, that he and Melissa weren’t going to stay together.

They’d been confused about why Shane would choose to do this until Shane had been brave, telling them that while he loved Melissa as the mother of his child, he would never be in love with her in the way that everyone expected. Yuna had put it into words for him, asking Shane outright if he was gay and he’d nodded, confirming it. His dad had taken Shane’s hand, promising that they didn’t care who Shane loved, as long as he was happy and that he was honest with himself. It had felt like a weight had been lifted from Shane’s shoulders.

As well as being amazing parents, Yuna and David were practically second parents to Shane’s son, and they adored Ollie just as much as he adored them. Watching the three of them together was one of the best things Shane did with his time, especially since he and Ollie lived a five minute drive away from their home. He’d transferred to Ottawa when Oliver was just three months old, a necessary move so that he could have the support of his parents while he took up the position as team Captain of the Centaurs.

They’d been a bottom-of-the-league team and Shane had honestly thought that maybe it was a sign he needed to retire, but after a stern talking to from his mom, he’d gone in and decided that the Centaurs were the next Stanley Cup winning team. It had taken him two seasons, but then Shane was lifting the Cup, his two year old clapping his hands in the stands where he was watching, defying everyone who had written him off with both the move to Ottawa and fatherhood.

“Baaba, wanna see me skate a lap?” Ollie asked, and Yuna grinned, nodding as the boy sped away, blades carving into the ice.

Shane had decided before Ollie was born that Grandma was too much of an old lady name for someone as glamorous as his mom was, and he’d made Yuna cry when he told her that he wanted the baby to call her Baaba, a nod to their Japanese heritage. Ollie had never known any different, and hearing it always made Shane smile.

“Gosh, he’s gotten really good,” Yuna said, the pair admiring Ollie’s form as he skated round, waving wildly as he passed them. “So much like you when you were his age.”

“No way, he’s much better than I was then,” Shane replied, smiling at her before looking back at his son. “I really do hope he wants to go into hockey, because I feel like he’s just going to be unstoppable when he’s older if he keeps improving at this rate.”

“Well, he does have a four-time Stanley Cup winner for a father, so I would hope he could hold his own on the ice.”

“True.”

“Daddy, come skate! Can we use the sticks?”

“Sure,” Shane called, and Yuna turned and grabbed the things Shane had left by the bench, passing over the custom stick Shane had been gifted by CCM for Ollie’s fourth birthday. He headed over and passed Ollie the stick, dropping the puck to the floor. “Okay, remember what we practiced on the weekend?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Ollie replied, his little face going serious as he listened carefully. Sometimes it really was like looking in a mirror. “Can we practice goals?”

“Shooting at the goal?” Shane asked. Ollie nodded. “Okay. I’ll go to the goal. Remember to strike hard, not giving away where you’re going to strike the puck. Think you can beat your record of 7 from Saturday?”

Ollie nodded frantically as his little cheeks reddened with excitement. “Yeah! Let’s go, Daddy!”

Shane smiled as he skated towards the goal, Ollie concentrating hard as he moved the puck along with his stick, getting himself into position. Shane watched intently as Ollie shifted the position of his gloved hands, little tongue sticking out between his lips he wobbled on his blades, pulling back his stick.

“Goal!” he shouted as the puck glided past Shane’s left skate, settling in the net. “Yes, I did!”

“Good job, let’s go again.” Shane hooked the puck with his blade and gently pushed it out, watching it stop just to the left of Ollie.

They carried on in this way until Shane could see Ollie’s arms beginning to ache. The stick wasn’t heavy, but the effort of holding himself steady on the ice was getting to him, and Shane let the last goal sink into the net, skating back to his son. He scooped him up into his arms, resting him on his hip as he skated slowly back to Yuna, who quickly finished up her phone call as they stopped in front of her.

“You done, honey?” she asked, and Ollie nodded, stretching out his arms for her. She took him with ease, and Shane watched on as she sat him down, unlacing his boots as she had done for him all those years ago. “You’re doing so great out there, Grandpa and I are so proud of how good you are!”

“Gonna be a Cen when I’m big like Daddy.”

“Oh, I know it,” Yuna said, winking and rustling the little boy’s curly hair. “You boys want to come over for dinner tonight? Grandpa is making your favourite pasta and meatballs!”

“Ooh yes! Daddy, can we go to Baaba’s for dinner, please?”

“Sure. I’m just going to go to my appointment and then I’ll come join you guys. Are you okay to go back with Baaba and see Grandpa?”

Ollie nodded, jumping down onto his socked feet and dashing off to where his rucksack was sitting next to Shane’s skate bag. He bent down, rummaging around until he found what he was looking for, running back to Shane with a cereal bar in his hand.

“Daddy, can I have this please? I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, that’s okay Ol. Mom, is it alright if I get changed and disappear now? I don’t want to be late.”

“No problem, Shane. Dinner will be ready around six, just try and make sure you’re back by then.”

Shane glanced at his watch, seeing it was only just gone four. “Yeah, I’ll be there in about an hour I hope. Give me a hug, kiddo. I love you.”

“Love you too, Daddy,” Ollie said, sinking into Shane’s tight hug. “Come on Baaba, wanna see Grandpa!”

Shane slipped on his skate guards before he grabbed his bags, heading for the empty locker room. It was odd, being in there without the rest of the team, but Shane quickly changed out of the sports gear he’d been wearing for his skate, pulling on his jeans and a clean sweatshirt. He left his skates in his stall, hoisting his bag over his shoulder as he headed out.

“Hollzy! Didn’t expect you here today.”

Shane grinned as the Centaur’s media manager Harris Drover approached, letting himself be pulled into a quick hug. Harris and his husband Troy Barrett, one of Shane’s fellow Centaurs, had become close friends of Shane’s since his move to Ottawa four years ago, and he very much cherished their friendship.

“Where’s my favourite kid?”

“How are you, Shane? Good to see you, Shane…”

Harris laughed, rolling his eyes. “Sorry, man. How are you?”

“I’m good. You and Troy okay?”

“Yep, as always. So. Where’s my favourite kid?”

“Gone home with my Mom, I have an appointment in the city,” Shane said, quickly slipping his phone from his pocket, checking his notifications before he put it away. “What are you doing here today?”

“Social media never sleeps,” Harris joked with an eye roll, but really, Shane knew how much he enjoyed his job. “I wanted to edit the video we shot the other day so that we can post it after the next match. I think it’s going to be a good one.”

“If by a good one, you mean an embarrassment, then yes, I agree,” Shane laughed. He wasn’t a massive fan of social media, preferring to keep his own accounts professional and focused on hockey, but he understood the importance of joining in with the Centaurs’ social media content, especially as Captain. “I’m really sorry to leave you hanging but I really need to head off if I’m going to make it back for dinner with Ol and my parents.”

“Sorry, course. I’ll see you on Thursday?”

Shane nodded, bidding his friend goodbye before he hurried out to his car, throwing his bag onto the backseat next to the car seat that lived permanently there for his son. He joined the traffic and focused on where he needed to be, already eager to get home and to his boy, where he belonged.

*****

“Daddy’s home!” David called out over his shoulder as Shane stepped in through the front door, shrugging off his jacket and putting it onto the hook next to Ollie’s bright yellow one. He toed off his shoes and hurried through to the kitchen, smiling at the sight of Ollie on a step stool next to Yuna, a bright green apron tied around his body.

“Wow, what are you making?” Shane asked, leaning down to kiss Ollie on the head before he walked to his mum, kissing her cheek. “Smells delicious.”

“I’m grating the cheese,” Ollie said with a big grin, holding up the grater and flinging bits of cheese everywhere. “Oops, sorry, Baaba!”

“No need to apologise, darling,” Yuna said, but Shane was already on it, the dustpan in his hand as he swept up the mess. “Dinner is in two minutes if you want to wash up, Shane.”

“Thanks, I will.”

He smiled at his dad as he headed upstairs, washing his hands in the bathroom. He took the opportunity to look at his reflection in the mirror, looking closely for any signs of wrinkles. He was thirty one now, and looked pretty good for it thanks to his healthy diet and strict exercise regime, not that he was scared of aging. He’d had a good life so far, and he viewed getting older as a privilege, especially with Ollie in his life now.

Shane took his seat at the table next to Ollie, reaching to help cut up his meatballs while Yuna fussed around, setting down Shane’s salmon and rice, knowing he didn’t like to eat pasta unless he could help it. Ollie’s diet, though, was as varied as Yuna could make it, and he loved what a great appetite his son had. He was a growing boy, after all.

“You fancy going to the movies tomorrow?” Shane asked, and Ollie nodded eagerly, shoving a spoonful of pasta into his mouth, smearing the tomato sauce around his mouth. “Cool. Well, I thought we could ask your friend Tyler from skate school to come with us? His mom said he was hoping you two could meet up while you’re out for your break.”

Even though Shane was an ice hockey superstar, he also recognised the importance of Ollie getting tuition from someone other than him. He also knew that Ollie needed the social aspect of it, and enjoyed watching him from rinkside if he ever had a chance. Usually, he let Yuna or David take him as it tended to cause a bit of a scene to have him there, but sometimes he went along, hiding as much as he could. Shane was just grateful that Ollie wasn’t yet at that age where he was embarrassed of his famous father.

Ollie nodded. “Yes, please. Can we have popcorn?”

“I think I could spring for some popcorn,” Shane grinned, reaching for the pot of grated cheese at the centre of the table. “You want some more cheese?”

Shane helped his dad to wash up after dinner while Yuna curled up with Ollie, reading him the story that they’d been working their way through. Shane had been concerned that Ollie was too young for a chapter book but as usual, Ollie had surprised him and had absorbed the story, listening carefully as Yuna read to him whenever he was at their house.

A few hours later, Ollie was asleep in the corner of the sofa tucked under one of the blankets from Shane’s childhood. His thumb was in his mouth, and Shane reached over, brushing his dark curls away from his forehead. Ollie shifted and curled more into the blanket and Shane sat up, turning his attention back to the hockey game playing on the television. The volume was low so Shane couldn’t really hear the commentary, but it didn’t matter.

He watched as players skated seamlessly around the ice, the puck a black blur from here but Shane had no trouble following it. He was impressed by some of the plays, and he smiled as one of the teams celebrated a goal, shots of children cheering in the crowd filling his heart with joy, remembering how excited Ollie was anytime he scored and skated over to him.

Yuna walked back into the room, smiling at the sight of her grandson sound asleep. “Who’s playing?”

“Anaheim Hammerheads and San Francisco Mission,” he answered as the players skated into position, ready for the next play. They weren’t in his league, but if there was one thing Shane knew well, it was hockey.

“That’s Rozanov’s team, right?”

Shane tried to react to the sound of that name from his mom’s lips. “Yeah. They’re pretty good.”

“Do you have time for a cup of tea? I’m making one for your father and I.”

Shane checked the time on his watch, seeing that he probably had just about enough time before he had to head back home. “Sure, that would be great, thank you.”

The camera panned around, and Shane froze as an all too familiar face filled the television screen. There he was: Ilya Rozanov. Once upon a time, he’d been Shane’s fiercest rival on the ice, but he’d also been far more than that, too. Ilya was the first and only man Shane had ever been with, the one who had awakened something in him that had quietly, irrevocably altered the course of his life.

It had started just before the start of their rookie season, Shane blissfully unaware of what was to come. One impulsive night had turned into another, and then another until they’d fallen into a rhythm that neither of them ever acknowledged out loud. Whenever their teams crossed paths, Shane and Ilya found their way back to each other - slipping quietly into anonymous hotel rooms after playing each other hard on the ice, chasing something intense, perfect and impossible to leave behind.

Things had ended mutually after a couple of years, the two of them realising that what they were doing was too much of a risk. Ilya was from Russia, a country renowned for being homophobic, and Shane knew that Ilya was terrified of what would happen to him if they were found out. Shane hadn’t felt comfortable with the idea of everyone knowing he was sleeping with men either, so they’d decided that as much fun as it had been, it was time to stop.

Shane refused to admit just how much it had hurt, saying goodbye to Ilya that final time, just after Ilya had won his first MVP award in Las Vegas. Shane had been so proud of him, and they’d fallen into bed one last time in Ilya’s penthouse suite, like they were trying to rewrite the inevitable, Ilya brokenly whispering ‘let me love you goodbye’ as he stepped into Shane’s space, kissing him with everything that was unsaid between them.

It wasn’t desperate or careless. It was soft. Careful. Almost reverent. Every touch lingered too long, every breath felt like something they were trying to memorize. It was the kind of tenderness that made it worse, because it proved there had always been something real there - something neither of them had been brave enough to name.

Afterwards, Ilya didn’t rush to leave. He stayed, talking about nothing, just small, meaningless things, his voice too light, like if he kept it there, it wouldn’t crack. Shane had watched him from the corner of his eye, memorizing the shape of him in the dim light, the way his fingers traced absent patterns on the sheets. Neither of them said what mattered. Neither of them asked the other to stay.

And then the goodbye. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. It wasn’t supposed to feel like that.

Their guards slipped without warning. The hug lasted too long. The kiss wasn’t casual - it was aching, clinging, almost desperate. For a moment, Shane had the terrifying thought that if he held on just a little tighter, he could stop it. That he could make Ilya stay.

But he didn’t. He let go, because that’s what they had agreed was best for both of them. He watched Ilya walk away.

And that was it. No fight. No dramatic ending. Shane would tell himself, over and over, that it hadn’t meant that much. That it was just something that happened, something that ended the way things sometimes do.

But sometimes, late at night, he could still feel it - that hollowed-out space inside his chest, like something had been carved out and never replaced. And he knew, no matter how much he tried to deny it, that a part of his heart had walked away that night too… and he didn’t think he’d ever be getting it back.

An injury a few years back had put an end to Ilya’s stellar hockey career, having led the Boston Raiders to three Stanley Cups under his tenure before playing with Anaheim for two seasons making playoffs both times, and always the thorn in Shane’s side. Shane had sat at home, feeding Ollie as he’d watched the press conference on TV, shocked as Ilya had announced his immediate retirement and new position as Assistant Coach to the Hammerheads.

It had felt strange, watching such an enormous career development happen for someone Shane had once been so close to. His hands had itched to pick up his phone, to text Ilya and find out how he really felt about it all, how he was coping with the reality of his playing career being over, but that wasn’t something they did. They hadn’t spoken or contacted each other since Las Vegas all those years ago, and he’d settled for just liking Ilya’s later Instagram post, as many of the MLH players did. It hadn’t felt like anywhere near enough.

He had wondered for a moment if this was how Ilya had felt when Shane had posted the news of Ollie’s birth, only sharing a photo of himself cradling his newborn son against his bare chest, smiling gently at Yuna’s camera. Ilya had liked that post, too.

Despite everything personal that had happened between them, Shane had always loved playing Ilya on the ice, and a little spark had gone from the game for him when he wasn’t an opponent anymore, even though he hadn’t played against him since he’d transferred away from the Raiders in 2019. Still, Ilya’s retirement was final in a way that him moving divisions hadn’t been. It took away the possibility of ever playing against him again. Ilya’s knee injury meant that playing hockey caused Ilya too much pain, and Shane knew it must’ve broken Ilya to step away from playing because of it.

But seeing Ilya standing rinkside, focusing hard on both his own team and the opposition, brought a flood of feelings back to Shane. He didn’t often watch this division, so it still always took him by surprise to see Ilya there, surrounded by the Hammerheads colours, looking just as fearsome as he ever had. If anything, age had just added to Ilya’s natural air of authority.

Shane had been shocked when he’d first learned that Ilya had accepted a coaching position with the Anaheim Hammerheads as a video coach. He knew that Ilya had always imagined getting into coaching after retiring, but the video coach position somehow made sense for him, allowing him to analyze game footage and managing in-game reviews for challenges, steering his team in the right direction all the way.

The camera quickly cut away to the action on the ice, and Shane let out a sigh, a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his body always reacting viscerally to the sight of Ilya, even after all of the years they’d been apart, after all of the changes his life had been through since then. Ilya was a secret Shane would keep for the rest of his life, a chapter he would never speak aloud but could never truly close. And while there were nights he let himself wonder what might have become of them under different circumstances, he couldn’t bring himself to regret any of it—not when it had led him here.

He looked to the right and smiled at the sight of his whole world, curled up and sound asleep, little eyelashes fluttering as he slept. Yuna walked back in and handed Shane a Ottawa Centaurs mug wordlessly, sitting next to him on the armchair, David off, probably doing a puzzle or something elsewhere in the house.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” Shane said quietly as the second period of the game ended, giving him a chance to finally talk to his mom. She was always the person he went to for anything about his career; his biggest supporter, the person he could always rely on to play devil’s advocate for his sometimes too unsettled mind. But today, all he wanted was her understanding. “About hockey. My career.”

“Okay…” Yuna said, her hands wrapped around the mug she was holding. “Why does this feel ominous, Shane?”

“I mean, it is, but I’m not sure it’s a huge surprise,” Shane said, leaning forward and setting his own mug down on the table. “Ollie’s starting school next year. He’s growing up, and I feel like I’m missing a lot of his life. I don’t want to wake up one day when he’s turning 18 and realise that I’ve been absent for most of his life.”

“Shane-”

“No, please let me finish?”

Yuna nodded, and the look on her face told Shane she was already anticipating what he was going to say.

“I’ve been playing hockey since I could walk. It’s been my job since I was seventeen, and I’m going to be 32 next year. I’ve given nearly half of my entire life to this game, and while I don’t regret a single part of it, I feel like… maybe I’m ready to be done. I’ve won everything I ever dreamed of, more than I ever thought possible. Four Stanley Cups, every award I once chased… I have no regrets when it comes to the game. I love it. I always will.”

He paused, looking at Yuna who was nodding along, almost resigned to Shane’s decision.

“But, Mom, I love Ollie more. I want to be there for him, so he has memories of me being in his life, rather than going away every other week to play. Moments with him matter more to me now than anything I could do on the ice. I don’t want to think of it as me walking away from hockey, because I love the game,” he said, feeling surprisingly emotional about this as he spoke, “but that I’m choosing something that means more to me now. I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and now I think I’m at peace with my decision. I’d-” he paused, gathering himself. “I’d really love it if you could support my decision, Mom.”

Yuna smiled gently, reaching out and taking Shane’s hand in her own. “Honey, I’m a mom. I understand wanting to be there for Ollie, for all those moments. I know how hard you find it when you leave him with us, that you’re missing so much. So of course I understand. I’m sad, because I know how much you love hockey, but it’s given you a brilliant life, and it’s entirely your choice to walk away from that for your son.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, quickly turning back to the television so she didn’t see the tears threatening to fall. It wasn’t that he was necessarily upset about the idea of walking away from hockey, but it was still a big decision, and a life-altering one in many ways. “It would be nice to have a life where I can stay in the same place for more than just a few days at a time. To put down some real roots with Ollie.”

“As long as those roots are in Ottawa,” Yuna joked, but Shane grinned, knowing he’d never move away. He loved his parents, and so did Ollie. There was no way he’d do anything to jeopardise the closeness they all had. “I’m kidding. Well, I’m not, but, you know. Maybe it’s time to think about meeting someone, Shane. Someone to share your life with.”

“Mom, we’ve talked about this,” Shane said, rolling his eyes as the third period began on the television. “I have Ollie, and he’s my priority. I’m really not looking for anything. I’m happy being on my own.”

“There’s probably a really nice man out there for you, Shane. Someone who can love both of you. You deserve that-”

“Mom.” Shane gave her a look, and Yuna held up her hands, surrendering. She knew when he wasn’t in the mood to be pushed. “I’m good. I promise.”

They finished the game, the Hammerheads winning 3-2. Ilya was shown briefly on the screen again as the coaches celebrated, but Shane didn’t react, wondering if Yuna would. She didn’t, and Shane stood up, deciding it was time to get home.

“I’ll bring your bags,” Yuna said as Shane lifted his son into his arms, the little boy barely stirring as he snuggled against Shane’s chest. He walked out of the house and put Ollie into his car seat, strapping him in before he covered him in the blanket again, closing the door as quietly as he could.

“Thanks for dinner,” Shane said, hugging Yuna quickly, then David, who had come out to say goodbye. “I’m going to hang out with Ollie at home tomorrow, but we’ll pop over at the weekend? Sort out next week when I have to get to New York?”

“Sure. Let us know when you’re home,” David said, even though Shane literally lived an eight minute drive away from their house. “Love you both.”

“We love you,” Shane called from behind the wheel, waving at them. He drove off, keeping the radio down so that Ollie would stay asleep. The roads were quiet so Shane was home in no time, taking Ollie inside and putting him into bed before he fetched their bags in, putting their skates away and tidying up before he headed up to bed himself.

As he laid in the darkness, Shane tossed and turned, unable to shut his mind off. He grabbed his phone and scrolled for a bit, liking a few hockey related posts on Instagram before he did something he rarely did. He searched for Ilya Rozanov’s account. It came up, showing that Shane followed him, as Ilya did to him. But they both followed many people from their hockey careers, so it didn’t feel like anything more than professional courtesy.

As usual, there were a few new posts on Ilya’s grid, but they were all professional, about the team and hockey. There were a few posts from brand deals that Ilya was clearly part of, but it didn’t give anything away about Ilya’s life at all. He used to be known for his womanising ways but photos of Ilya with anyone at all apart from people associated with the Hammerheads was rare. It meant that Shane really had no idea what was going on in Ilya’s life anymore, and it still felt strange to be so far removed from it, even though it had been almost a decade since they’d been anything to each other.

Shane’s own Instagram was mainly professional, but he posted the odd personal post when he felt like it. He was careful about what he posted, but was more active on social media these days. He posted lots of content about the Centaurs, short videos from their practices, fun photos that he took with his teammates, the best group of players he’d ever worked with.

Ollie was there, but in a way that allowed Shane to keep his privacy. He posted photos that never showed Ollie’s face, only the back of his head, or his silhouette as he skated or ran around in the garden. People loved seeing snippets of Shane’s family life, and he wanted to share what he could, but on his terms. Ollie would grow up with Shane’s surname and everything attached to it, whether he wanted it or not. The least Shane could do was give him as much normalcy as possible, which meant shielding him from the world for as long as he could.

Thankfully, Shane had earnt respect from both fans and the media, and everyone was more than happy to toe the line when it came to his son. They never pushed the limits in taking photos when Shane was out and about with him, even though Shane had had legal paperwork put in place preventing the media from sharing photos of his son. The MLH and stadiums had all been complicit in ensuring these were met, and Ollie was never featured on broadcasts either. For Shane, it was the best of both worlds, and he was glad his reputation meant that people were more than willing to work with him, rather than against him.

Shane scrolled through a few of Ilya’s latest posts, pausing as a rare selfie filled the screen. Ilya had left it without a caption, but he was clearly at the rink, probably watching the Hammerheads practice since the seats behind him were empty. Ilya hadn’t changed much, and if anything, had gotten more handsome with age. His curls were still as uncontrollable as ever, but he was beautiful in a way Shane was never able to fully put into words.

Before he could get lost in a spiral about the past, Shane clicked away from the photo and liked a few posts from the Centaurs’ account, then one from Hayden, celebrating his wedding anniversary. Shane tapped out a quick reply, ‘Happy anniversary to my favourite people! Can’t wait to see you all soon’ and locked his phone, turning over and closing his eyes.

Ollie would be awake at the crack of dawn, even though that wouldn’t be a hardship for Shane since he was an early riser too. It was spooky just how alike the two of them were, and with thoughts of his precious little boy in his mind, Shane finally allowed sleep to take over.

Chapter End Notes

Hope you enjoyed it! More very soon xx

Chapter 2

Chapter Summary

Daddy on ice

Friendly Interrogation

Forget. Fucking. Alan!

Chapter Notes

Chapter 2!

Hope you enjoyed the first... please enjoy this one too.

Let me know your thoughts in the comments!!

Shane pulled on his pads, looking up as the door to the locker room banged open, ricocheting off the wall and making everyone’s heads turn towards the disturbance.

“Oops,” laughed Zane Boodram, Shane’s alternate captain at the Centaurs, as he walked into the room, his bag hoisted over his shoulder. He had the sort of presence that commanded the attention of a room, and Shane sometimes wondered what it would take to have that himself. “Sorry, guys. Ignore me.”

“Oh, we already do, don’t worry,” Evan Dykstra replied cheekily, making the other players in the room laugh. Sometimes, their level of chirping made Shane remember the player who was still fondly remembered for being one of the MLH’s best ever chirpers. Ilya, of course. “You’re late, Bood.”

Bood quickly glanced at Shane, who just smiled, shaking his head. He knew that Bood’s wife Cassie had just welcomed their second baby, and that the family were adjusting to life as a family of four now, so Shane was giving him a bit of leeway, especially since Bood was always absolutely focused on the game once his skates were on his feet and a stick was in his hands.

“Sorry, Cap. Won’t happen again.”

“No apology needed,” Shane said, reaching into his bag and grabbing the piece of paper Ollie had been insistent he take with him to the game today. “Oh, before I forget. Ollie drew you a picture. Insisted I give it to you today.”

Bood accepted it with a grin and unfolded it, chuckling kindly as he took in the brightly coloured artwork. Shane went to stand next to him, pointing at the drawings on the page.

“I think that’s meant to be you and Cass, and then Milo, and the blob there is baby Bella. I’m not sure art is his strength, to be honest with you.”

“I love it. It’s going in my stall,” Bood laughed, tucking the open piece of paper against the side of his stall, there for everyone to see. “Good thing he’s got the Hollander skating skills, let’s just say that.”

“Will he be here tonight, Cap?” Luca Haas asked, and Shane nodded.

“Yeah, my parents are bringing him here in a bit. I had to get him a new jersey, he’s already outgrown the last one.”

“They grow up too fast,” Dykstra said sagely, a font of all parenting knowledge. He was the one Shane often went to when he wanted to discuss anything to do with Ollie, and their kids got along well too, even if Ollie was a little younger than Dykstra’s daughters. “Cait wanted to ask you guys over for dinner sometime.”

“Sure, that would be great. I’ll send her a text, work out a date.”

The team got ready, and Shane called out, getting the attention of his team. He was a Captain who didn’t lead with fear or by threatening his players. Instead, he worked hard to gain their respect and his legacy in the MHL meant that they were happy to follow Shane’s leadership every step of the way. He’d led them to two Stanley Cups so far, so he was definitely doing something right.

“I know we’re only just starting this season, but it would be great to get a win against the Raiders under our belt,” Shane began, his voice loud and clear in the room, everyone focused on him as he stood in front of them. “They were strong last season, and they were too close for comfort at times. Let’s make sure we start as we mean to go on. Keep that puck away from them, keep sending it into their goal.”

“I’ve got you, boys,” Hayes said, his goalie pads making him almost twice the size of some of the much smaller rookies in the room. “Not letting anything past me today.”

“Good to hear, Hazy. A shut out would be good. Haas, keep your eyes open, Bood, Barrett and I will be looking for you. Dyksy, keep Marlow away from us, and St. Simon too. Those two are dangerous when they get the puck. We ready to go?”

The team all nodded and got to their feet, grabbing their sticks as they headed out to warm up. They were playing at home in Ottawa today, and some of the Raiders were already on the ice by the time Shane and the Centaurs joined them. There was a huge cheer as they skated onto the ice, and the team waved at their fans, soaking in the support as always. It was a feeling Shane knew that he would never tire of.

David was standing with Ollie on his hip at the side of the rink and Shane skated towards them, poking his tongue out playfully as he got closer to his son, making him giggle in that beautiful way he did. Shane came to a stop and pulled off his helmet for a second, holding it by his side, dangling from his fingers.

“Daddy, hi! You gonna win?”

“I hope so, Ol. Your new jersey looks so good! Let me see the back.”

David let Ollie slide down to the floor and the little boy quickly turned around, showing off the ‘Hollander’ and number 24 on his back, making Shane grin proudly.

“You look awesome. Are you going to cheer us on?”

“Yes, so loud! Maybe you can hear me on the ice?”

“I’m sure I will- oh, hey,” Shane said as Bood came to a stop next to him, thudding roughly against the barricade.

“Ollie, my dude, come here!”

Ollie had grown up around the Centaurs, and they were like an extended family to him so Shane wasn’t at all surprised when Ollie happily ran up to his teammate and into his arms, hoisted over the barrier. Shane could sense them being watched by the fans, but he tried not to feel too anxious about it.

“Your dad gave me the picture you drew me, I love it! I put it in my stall so I can look at it every time we play. I just wanted to say thank you.”

“You are welcome,” Ollie replied politely, showing off the manners Shane had drilled into him since he began to talk. “I used my new colours. Maked it super colourful.”

“It was very colourful,” Bood said solemnly, handing the little boy over to his dad. “I’ll leave you with your dad, my first goal will be for you!”

Ollie wriggled excitedly at that, and Bood ruffled his hair and gave him a fistbump against his gloved hand before he skated away, leaving Shane alone with Ollie and David again.

“Okay, kiddo. Be good for your Grandpa and Baaba, okay?” Yuna walked up behind them, smiling at the sight of her son, clutching a drink and tray of fries for Ollie, a guaranteed game day treat whenever he was at the rink watching his dad. Shane leaned in, kissing Ollie’s forehead. “Love you. Enjoy the game, guys.”

“Score goals for me!” Ollie called as Shane skated away, clipping his helmet under his chin as the team continued their warm ups. Now he’d seen Ollie, he could focus on the game and get in the zone. He nodded at the Raiders captain, Cliff Marlow, and at Connors, both of whom Shane got on well with off the ice. Marlow had been the one that signed the card on the gift basket from the Raiders when Ollie was born, even if Shane suspected Ilya had been behind it, and even though Shane had never been able to bring himself to put his son in the mini Raiders onesie he’d been sent, he had appreciated the sentiment.

Warm ups were over soon, and Shane led the team off the ice as the Zamboni came on, smoothing out the ice before the game began. They lined up for the national anthem, and then the first period started. Shane was filled with adrenaline and skated just as well as he ever had, a natural ease to his movements that a lot of players couldn’t emulate even with years of training and practice.

By the end of the second period, the Cens were up 3-1, and Shane was sweating. He went back to the locker room and ate a protein bar, needing energy to get him through to the end of the last period. The Raiders were playing hard, and although they were winning, the Centaurs were having to really work for it.

A knock at the door drew Shane’s attention, and he just looked over as Ollie ran in, jumping into Shane’s lap, quickly followed by David. Yuna never came into the locker room out of respect for the men inside.

“Hey, Shane. Sorry to interrupt your break but he’s tired so we’re going to take him home.”

“Of course, Dad. Thank you for coming, Ol. Have a good sleep, okay? I’ll come and pick you up in the morning.”

“‘Kay, Daddy,” Ollie said, yawning widely. Shane just hugged him a little more tightly, kissing the top of his head. “I’m tired.”

“I know. That’s why Grandpa and Baaba are going to take you home. See you tomorrow, okay? I love you.”

“Love you too.”

David reached down and picked up Ollie, who quickly rested his head on his shoulder, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Good luck for the rest of the game, Mom and I will watch from home.”

“Okay. Thanks, Dad, for always taking care of him.”

The team called out quiet goodbyes and Ollie gave them a sleepy wave as David left the room with Ollie’s head resting on his shoulder, closing the door behind him.

“He’s so fuckin’ cute, Hollzy,” said Nick Chouinard, eating his own energy bar across the room.

“I know,” Shane grinned, getting to his feet. “Right, one more go at this, guys. Let’s keep that score on our side.”

They traipsed back out, and Shane took his place at centre, opposite Marlow.

“Has Ollie gone home?” he asked, and Shane nodded, meeting Marlow’s eyes. “How does he look more like you every time I see him?”

“Genetics,” Shane replied with a grin, giving Marlow a win. “Don’t think you can distract me by talking about my son, Marly.”

“Worth a try,” Marlow said with a smirk, but Shane was right. They both put in their mouthguards and then the puck dropped. Shane snatched it with his blade, flying down the ice and passing it quickly between himself and Bood before he snapped it over to Barrett, letting him put it away, taking the score up again in their favour.

The rest of the game flew by, and before Shane knew it, the whistle sounded, telling them the game was over. The score ended at 4-2 to the Centaurs, and they quickly lined up, Shane fist-bumping the Raiders as they walked past him on their way to their locker room. As Marlow came up, last of all, Shane shook his hand and pulled him into a quick hug, the two slapping each other on the backs.

“Good to see you, Marly,” he said, and Marlow laughed, knocking his helmet against Shane’s.

“Congrats on the win. We’ll be back, though. Don’t write us off.”

“I would never,” Shane said as they skated off the ice together. Shane paused, turning to wave at the gathered fans before he went through to the locker room, needing a shower and wanting to get home. A win was always good ahead of a couple of days off, and Shane was going to make the most of it.

 

Three days later

“Are we nearly there yet?” Ollie asked for what must be the fifth time in the past half an hour, bored in his car seat in the back of Shane’s car.

“Almost, about five minutes away,” Shane replied, indicating and turning towards where they were headed. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just want to see Hayden and Arthur.” The little boy went quiet then spoke again. “I need a wee.”

“Can you hold on for a couple of minutes?”

“Okay,” Ollie replied, and Shane hoped that he was alright. They’d made the two hour drive to Montreal multiple times but usually, they stopped halfway for a comfort break. Today, though, Shane had been sure Ollie was old enough to make it the whole way without needing a break, and since he’d fallen asleep just as they’d driven out of Ottawa, he was hopeful.

By the time he was pulling up in Hayden’s driveway, Ollie was dancing around in his car seat in a way that Shane knew meant he was desperate. He quickly put the car into park, and felt relieved as the front door opened, Hayden standing there and waiting to greet them.

“He needs the bathroom, Hayd,” Shane yelled as he lifted Ollie out of his seat, sending him in Hayden’s direction. As a father of four, Hayden understood and quickly ushered Ollie into the house while Shane stayed at the car, grabbing their bags before heading inside. He dumped everything in the hallway and kicked off his shoes as Jackie, Hayden’s wife, appeared, smiling at him. “Hey, Jackie.”

She stepped straight into Shane’s open arms, giving him a tight cuddle before she pulled back, looking at him in that way she always did, like she was making sure he was okay in that motherly way that came so naturally to her. “You look good.”

“I feel it. Life is good at the moment. Did Ollie make it to the bathroom in time?”

“He did, come on through and see the kids with me. Hayden will bring him outside when he’s done.”

Shane followed Jackie through to the garden, waving at the twins who were sitting in the treehouse at the bottom of the garden that Hayden had had built for them a few summers ago. He missed the days when they’d run up to him with excitement, but they were ten years old and far too cool for that now, apparently. But not the other two.

“Uncle Shane!”

Shane just about had time to reach and scoop Amber up as she ran at him, jumping into his waiting arms, little legs flying around his waist as he spun her around.

“Look at you, I swear you’ve gotten bigger since I last saw you!”

“I lost a tooth!” Amber shrieked, tugging her lower lip down to show Shane the gap in the bottom row of her teeth. “And the tooth fairy gave me two dollars!”

“Two dollars?!” Shane gasped, shifting her so that she was on his hip as they walked out of the house behind Jackie into the garden. “What are you spending it on?”

“Ice cream,” she grinned, wriggling off Shane’s lap as he sat down. “Ruby, can I play?!”

She disappeared, but Shane still wasn’t alone. Arthur had come over, the little boy much quieter than any of his sisters, and Shane was sure this was why he got on so well with his son. The girls were a little too intimidating for Ollie most of the time. Arthur was seven now, and such a kind, gentle-hearted boy.

“Is Ollie here, Uncle Shane?”

“Sure is, Arthur. He’s with your dad, he’ll be out- hey, there he is. Ollie, Arthur wants to play with you. You want to go with him?”

Ollie nodded and ran over, hugging Shane before he put his hand into Arthur’s, letting himself be led away to where Arthur had set up all of his toy cars, probably just for Ollie because that was the kind of kid he was. Shane accepted the beer Hayden handed him, sitting next to his wife.

“Congrats on the win the other night,” Hayden said with a grin. “Can’t promise we’ll make the next one so easy on you.”

“Ah, the Raiders are alright. Marly’s done a good job with them.”

“How much longer can he keep playing, though? He’s got a good few years on us…”

“Hunter was older than Marly is now when he retired,” Shane shrugged, pulling his sunglasses on as the sun appeared from behind the Montreal clouds. “It’ll be weird once the people we started playing with start retiring.”

“Well, Rozanov was the first,” Hayden shrugged, and Shane wondered if he would never not be affected by hearing that name, even after all of these years. Yes, the intensity of the feelings had lessened over time, but Shane was pretty sure he’d never be one hundred percent over how he felt about Ilya Rozanov. “Let’s be honest, when he left, that was the end of the Raiders as we knew them. He had some kind of magic on the ice.”

“Yeah, I guess so. That time will come for all of us though.” Shane paused, wondering whether to mention the possibility of his retirement at the end of the season. Hayden had already turned to talk to Ruby, though, and Shane felt the moment had passed. “Did your parents enjoy their anniversary party, Jackie?”

“They really did, it’s so sweet that you remembered.”

“The memory of babysitting five kids on my own is scarred on my brain, Jacks.”

“I think it’s character building,” she said with a cheeky grin. “How are your parents?”

Shane grinned. “Same as always. You know them. I don’t know how my mom manages to do everything that she does as well as keeping up with Ollie. She puts me to shame, that’s for sure.”

Jackie scoffed, shaking her head. “You can’t be serious. You are literally Captain of the best hockey team-”

Hayden’s head snapped back at that. “Hey!”

“Oh, come on, Hayd. They’ve won the past two cups. Anyway, you’re the Cens captain, you’re a great dad to Ollie, you look after your parents, you’re godfather to this rabble…" She indicated her own children, scattered around the garden. “I think that might make you more like your Mom than you want to admit.”

They sat chatting in the sunshine for a while before Shane headed inside with Hayden, giving Jackie the day off from cooking as they prepared lunch together. Shane was making a salad for the adults, while Hayden was cooking hot dogs for the children, making it look harder than it actually was, if you asked Shane’s opinion.

“So, have you changed your mind about dating yet?” Hayden asked, his voice casual and light despite the weight of the question. He was the one who was always on at Shane for not having any kind of love life, despite Shane reminding him constantly that he was quite happy with his life as it was. “Don’t ignore me, Hollzy.”

“I’m not ignoring you, just your boring questions,” Shane retorted, reluctantly adding the cherry tomatoes he’d just washed to the salad bowl. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I’m happy on my own. Ollie is my focus.”

“I know he is, dude. But you don’t have to stop your entire life for him. Don’t you miss getting laid?”

Shane laughed in spite of himself. “I mean, maybe a bit, but sex has never been… something I need, you know?”

The thing was, Shane wasn’t lying. He’d actually never understood the appeal until he’d had sex with Ilya Rozanov. It was not only Shane’s gay awakening, but it had opened his eyes as to just how good sex could be. He’d slept with others since Ilya but no one had come close to making Shane feel the way he had with Ilya. It had made it easier to walk away from the idea of a relationship, and Shane had decided that he was happier alone than being in a relationship for the sake of it. Ollie was his world now.

“Fuck, he really ruined you, didn’t he?”

Shane’s head snapped up, his heart missing a beat at the thought he’d let something slip about Ilya. “What? Who?”

“Whoever the first guy was that made you realise that you’re gay.”

Shane had come out to Hayden and Jackie years ago, when he realised it wasn’t something he needed to be ashamed of. He was respected enough in his career by then that it wasn’t a problem, even though he hadn’t chosen to come out publicly. The way it had happened with Hayden and Jackie hadn’t been exactly ideal, but at least it had put to bed the idea that Shane wasn’t remotely interested in women.

Hayden, with the best of intentions, had been pestering Shane about finding a girlfriend, a new potential mother figure for Ollie. He’d been trying to send Shane various Instagram profiles of Jackie’s single friends, despite Jackie trying to stop her husband, as if she sensed his discomfort.

Shane had feigned an interest just to keep his best friend quiet until one late evening at the Pike’s, exhausted with sleep deprivation from several weeks of broken sleep with a four month old Ollie, he’d snapped, revealing the truth with the words ‘It isn’t a fucking woman I want, Hayden!’. Silence had fallen, and Shane had gone silent then cried before he’d explained himself, shaking with relief when Hayden had just hugged him, telling him that it was okay, that he wished that he had known before.

It had been what Shane needed to give him courage to be more honest in his life. Slowly but surely, he’d come out to trusted members of his team, Hayden by his side, and before long, the entire Metros roster knew, as did the Centaurs now, and Shane was sure it was an open secret amongst the rest of the teams in the league. But nobody ever gave him any shit for it, even if everyone was a little stunned when Shane revealed five years ago that he was going to become a father.

Shane just laughed ruefully, willing his heart to calm down, that of course Hayden didn’t know about he and Ilya. “I wouldn’t say I’m ruined, Hayd, but I mean… he did set a pretty high standard for me. But, you know, I’m happy with my life as it is, drop it please. Pass me the cucumber from the fridge, please?”

“Fine, you win for now. Did Melissa call Ollie and apologise for missing his birthday call?”

“Yeah, she did. I mean, I think Ollie’s young enough that he doesn’t get too bothered by it, you know? They’re not close, she doesn’t make enough effort for it to affect him too much. I try to talk to him about his mom, but I think because he has my mom in his life, he doesn’t miss a female influence that much. He’s just… matter of fact about it, which is shitty, but I’d rather him be like that, I guess.”

“Well, good. I don’t know how you deal with her and her shit, I really don’t.”

“Hayd, she’s Ollie’s mom. Just… don’t talk about her like that, please.”

“Sorry, dude, but you’re a better guy than me. I’m just gonna take these out, then I’ll come help you bring out the rest.”

Hayden headed out with his tray of hot dogs and plastic plates for the kids, leaving Shane alone for a moment. He knew that Hayden didn’t have a high opinion of Melissa, Ollie’s Mom, and he understood why he really did, but that didn’t mean he wanted to hear her being spoken about in a negative way. He’d slept with her and gotten her pregnant, and like it or not, she was in his life forever now.

Shane picked up the bowl of chicken salad he’d made and joined Hayden, Jackie and the children at the large table on the deck, umbrellas up and shielding them from the sun. Ollie was sitting between Arthur and Ruby, so Shane just wandered over, checking in and kissing him on the top of his head before he left him to it.

As usual, the conversation between the adults turned to hockey, talking about the past few matches that the Metros had played, and the ones in the next few weeks for the Centaurs. Shane was due to face his old team in a couple of weeks, and he was looking forward to it because it was at the end of a long ten-day run on the road, meaning he’d be away from Ollie for a stretch, which was never ideal. Playing Hayden on the ice was always fun as well.

Hayden had been Captain since Shane had left the Metros, and he’d taken a lot of inspiration from Shane’s leadership style. He got on well with everyone, and Shane knew that he’d worked hard to get them to the playoffs just a year after Shane had left. They hadn’t won, but it had done a lot to boost Hayden’s confidence in his leadership.

Lunch was a loud affair, and Shane had only laughed when Ollie dripped ketchup from the end of his hot dog down his t-shirt, a lot more relaxed than he used to be about mess. Having a toddler would do that for a person. Arthur and Ollie had asked to go inside when they were finished, and Shane set them up with the Cars movie, Ollie curled up against Arthur’s side, his thumb in his mouth as they watched. Hayden went to put Amber down for her nap which she wouldn’t take unless he or Jackie stayed in the bed with her leaving Shane and Jackie to supervise the other kids.

“I know you’re going to say no…” Jackie started as Shane collapsed back into his chair, adjusting it so his body was in the sunshine.

“Then why bother asking?”

“Because I love you, and I hate that you’re alone.”

“I’m not alone. I have my parents and Ollie.”

“You know what I mean. You deserve to be loved and looked after, Shane.” She paused, watching Shane’s face before she continued. “There’s a guy, a parent at Amber’s school. He’s really nice, a single dad like you, he has a daughter Amber’s age. I think he could be worth a risk.”

Shane sighed, wondering what people just didn’t get about the fact he was happy alone. That his world revolved around his son and hockey, and that he didn’t need anything else to make him happy.

“Jackie. I love you, and I know you mean well. And I’m sure that he’s-”

“Alan.”

“Alan? Really?”

“What’s wrong with Alan?!”

“Nothing, sorry. I’m sure that Alan is a nice man, a good dad. But… I’m really not looking for anything. I promise you I’m okay on my own… I actually like it sometimes, just having myself and Ollie to worry about.”

“I want to hurt him.”

“Who, Alan?”

“Oh my god, forget fucking Alan!” Jackie said, throwing her hands into the air, a look of annoyance on her face now. Shane couldn’t help but smile at how easy she was to goad. “No, the guy who broke your heart and ruined you for anyone else.”

“You sound just like your husband,” Shane commented with a roll of his eyes, but he knew Jackie wouldn’t take offence. This was just how she and Hayden were with Shane, and he loved them for it, because they simply cared for him in the only way they knew how.

Unbidden, Ilya’s face once again filled Shane’s mind. It had been months since he’d last thought of him, after seeing a special on the Boston Raiders on the sports channel, with interviews of Raiders both old and new, and of course Ilya had been featured. Shane had sat in the darkness of his living room staring at it as Ilya had spoken on screen, his Russian accent filling the quiet corners of Shane’s mind.

He’d rewound and watched it three times before he caught himself, quickly turning off the television and heading to bed. He’d deny touching himself to the memory of Ilya if anyone asked, but he hadn’t been able to brush it off, pushing the team through a hard practice and making the poor Cens run bag skates until Luca Haas had nearly thrown up on the ice. After that, Shane had vowed to avoid anything Boston Raiders and Ilya Rozanov related.

That had worked until the other night, anyway, and seeing him during that game watched in the dark at his parents house.

Shane was curious so he couldn’t help himself from asking the question he’d not asked Hayden. “So… what makes you think it was a guy that ruined me?”

Jackie just shrugged. “Apart from the fact that you’re gay, Shane? I mean… am I wrong?

“No, you’re not. There was… a man that I really liked. Maybe more than I ever would’ve admitted to, especially to his face. Years ago, but now we don’t even speak. So it’s not like anything can happen, or that we can go back. I mean… I know we were young, but I just felt like… maybe he could’ve made me happy, you know?”

Jackie nodded, reaching out and taking Shane's hand gently as he continued. It felt a lot to speak about it like this, but Shane had never really been able to be honest about Ilya, so he was taking the chance while he could.

“And I like to think that I could’ve made him happy too, if I had been braver then. If both of us were. There was a lot against us being together, too much, which is why we ended it.”

Jackie was quiet for a minute. “Did you love him?”

Shane shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know if I was completely in love with him, but I was heading there, for sure.” He sighed, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles. “But if we had stayed together, I wouldn’t have Ollie now. So I can’t regret anything that happened in my life that got me to where I am now. Maybe one day I’ll feel like it’s time to move on.”

“Well, you just let me know when you’re ready, honey,” she said, getting to her feet and coming up behind Shane, draping her arms around him, her hands resting on his chest. “I won’t pressure you. Thank you for telling me all of that. I love you, Shane.”

“Love you too.” Shane smiled as she leaned in, kissing the top of his head.

Crying rang out from where Ollie and Arthur were watching television, and Shane got to his feet, quickly turning and giving Jackie a hug.

“I’d better go and see what that’s about.”

“Daddy, I hit my head on Arthur’s head!” said a tearful Ollie, holding up his arms to Shane to lift him up as Hayden walked into the room just behind him, holding Amber’s hand, nap time having been abandoned. Shane checked his son over, relaxing when he saw that there wasn’t so much as a red mark on Ollie’s forehead.

“You’re all good, I promise,” Shane said, Ollie on his lap and cuddled into his dad’s chest. “You guys want to go outside and kick a football around for a bit?”

The children cheered loudly, and Ollie apparently forgot his previous tears and rushed off after Amber and Arthur, heading for the garden where Jackie was already yelling at them to slow down on the steps.

“Staying for dinner?” Hayden asked as he turned off the movie and grinned at his best friend.

“Absolutely.”

Chapter End Notes

Ready to meet Ilya?!

Chapter 3 tomorrow...

Chapter 3

Chapter Summary

Watched commitments

Please still have my number...

This place doesn’t have a children’s menu

Chapter Notes

Thank you for the kindness towards the first two chapters. I’m so happy you are all loving Shane and Ollie.

I love reading your comments so please let me know your thoughts on this new chapter please. I’m having a hard time at the moment and this story is one of the small glimpses of happiness I have.

So…

Introducing… Ilya.

A month later

Since having Ollie, Shane had scaled back on as many things as he could, focusing only on those he could feasibly manage. He kept only the most lucrative contracts with his sponsors, and avoided as many parties and meetings as he could. Sometimes, though, they were unavoidable, and Yuna had been apologetic when she’d told Shane he had to take part in an ad campaign for Rolex, and that they were paying to fly him out to California for the filming.

Shane was annoyed, having already spent the previous week on the road, in New York, Boston and then Toronto which had meant time away from Ollie, and now he was going to have to do it again. He’d thought about taking Ollie with him, but realistically, he knew that couldn’t work. He’d have no one to look after him when he was shooting, and four year olds weren’t exactly known for sitting still and quietly when they needed to. Shoots were stressful enough without the extra worry of Ollie too.

Shane had made up for it by taking Ollie to the rink and the two of them spending the morning on the ice the day before he was due to fly out to California, and they’d gone to Ollie’s favourite restaurant, Pizza Hut, for their dinner (Shane was grateful they had a salad bar option). Most telling of his guilt was the fact Shane allowed Ollie to sleep in his bed with him that night, and he’d woken to cold feet on his tummy, shoved to the side of the mattress while Ollie spread out like a little king.

“Come on, kiddo, Baaba will be waiting for you!” Shane yelled as he pulled on his shoes, his suitcase already in the back of the car along with Ollie’s bag, packed with enough things to get him through the next three days before he got home. David and Yuna kept plenty of clothes and toys at their place since Ollie was there so much, but Shane always liked to make sure they had more than enough.

Ollie came hurtling down the stairs, his t-shirt on backwards as he grinned happily at Shane.

“Why did you change out of your dinosaur t-shirt?” he asked as he helped his son get the shirt on correctly.

“I wanted this one,” the boy said easily, pointing down to the huge hammerhead shark now showing on the front. “I like sharks.”

“Since when? You liked dinosaurs yesterday!”

"i like both, Daddy. Is it okay if I like both?"

"Absolutely." Shane crouched down again, helping Ollie shove his feet into his sneakers, tightening the velcro straps to speed things along. “Do you have Ellie?”

Ellie was the toy elephant that he’d been given by Shane's parents when he was born, and Ollie couldn’t sleep without her. The boy nodded, picking up Ellie from where she’d been dumped on the floor when he’d arrived at the bottom of the stairs. “Yes, Daddy, let’s go! Wanna do some gardening with Grandpa. He said we have some... weeds to do?"

"Weeding?" Shane suggested, and Ollie grinned, nodding eagerly.

"Yes! And he gotted me special gloves so the prickles don't hurt my fingers."

Ollie continued to chat as Shane got him and their bags into the car, but Shane didn't mind in the slightest. He wasn't the greatest conversationlist, but it appeared that Ollie hadn't inhertied that trait from him. The drive to Yuna and David's home was quick, and the front door was open by the time Shane pulled up into the driveway. He got Ollie out of the car and let his son run up to Yuna while he fetched his bag, wishing he could hang around for a while longer.

Shane handed over the bag and smiled, leaning against the doorframe. “Thanks for this, Mom. I’ll call when I check into my hotel, okay?”

“We’ll be fine, but okay. I emailed you all the things you need this morning, and your outfits are going to be at the hotel for you tomorrow.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Well, you definitely wouldn’t have all these brand deals.”

“I know. Hey, come here you,” Shane called, grabbing the back of Ollie’s hoodie as he tried to disappear inside, probably to find his grandpa. “I need a hug. Be good for Baaba and Grandpa, okay? I’ll be back on Friday. I love you so much.”

“Love you, Daddy! Lemme go, I wanna go help Grandpa!"

Shane laughed, shaking his head. As much as he hated leaving Ollie behind, seeing him so happy to be here and confident in his return that he didn’t make a big deal of it was all Shane needed to feel okay about leaving. “Fine, I’ll call you tonight. Thanks again, Mom, love you.” He leaned in, hugging Yuna and kissing her cheek before he went back to the car.

The drive to the airport was one Shane knew like the back of his hand now, and he made it with plenty of time to spare before his flight. The six hour plane ride gave Shane time to catch up on some life admin he’d gotten behind on, thanks to being on the road with the Centaurs. He wasn’t always a fan of long flights, but sometimes they were a necessary evil. Rolex had arranged for Shane to be collected at the airport, and he felt grateful to sink into the back of a car as he was taken from LAX to his hotel in relative peace.

The suite he’d been booked into was far bigger than what he needed, but Shane took advantage of the walk in shower room, letting it wash away the plane feeling off his body as he stood under the spray. Usually, his shower time was interrupted by conversation with his four year old, but today, there was nothing but silence. That, and Shane’s thoughts. The sort of thoughts he only allowed himself to have every so often, so he didn't fall into a trap of what could have been.

Thanks to the time difference between Montreal and California, it was still late afternoon by the time Shane was done. The sun was still shining so Shane dressed in a nice shirt and shorts and headed out, pleased to be within walking distance of some nice places to eat. He hoped that the sunglasses he wore would be enough of a disguise, but he wasn’t entirely sure many Californians would recognise him or care who he was anyway. There were far bigger celebrities to worry about here than a Canadian Stanley Cup winner.

“Uh, I’ll get a green tea, please,” Shane said as he walked up to the counter of a coffee shop, glancing at the menu and finding most of it incomprehensible to him. Green tea he recognised, and he went for the safe option, not caring he wasn’t a risk taker in the slightest. He paid and took it to go, wandering around the streets as he sipped on it.

It was busy, and Shane found a solitary bench after an hour or so of walking around. He pulled his phone from his pocket and facetimed Ollie, pleased to see that he was eating his dinner with Yuna and David, a big smile on his face. He told his dad excitedly about everything he’d been up to that day, and asked Shane to flip his camera so he could see where he was, squealing with excitement as a big dog walked past on the end of a hot pink lead, its owner plugged into her own earbuds and ignoring the world around her.

“We can’t get a dog,” Shane laughed, flipping the camera back to his own face. “I’m not home enough to look after a dog, Ol, we’ve talked about this before. Maybe one day when I’m not playing hockey as much.”

Ollie huffed, but he didn’t look too upset. “Fine. Please may I have ice cream after my pasta?”

“If Baaba says you’ve eaten enough,” he said, always trusting Yuna’s judgment on these things when he was away. Ollie was a fit and healthy little boy, and the odd treat his grandparents indulged him in wasn’t going to hurt him. “I’ll let you get back to your dinner, okay? Sleep well tonight, and be good. I love you.”

“Love you, Daddy, bye!” Ollie sang before he shoved another forkful of pasta into his mouth, making Shane smile fondly at his screen.

Shane headed back to the hotel then and ordered room service rather than going to a restaurant, eating a meal of salmon and brown rice in his suite as he watched old hockey reruns on ESPN, smiling when he saw it was a Centaurs game from last year against Montreal. He watched his own form closely, analysing the play as he always did, working out where he could’ve been better on his blades, or could’ve stopped them scoring against him. Shane was sure he’d never get bored of watching hockey.

The next morning, Shane was up and about early, despite the fact he could actually lay in for once. Still, his body didn’t work like that, and he made the most of the hotel gym, working through his routine before he went back upstairs and showered, deciding to head out for the morning before he was due to meet the Rolex ambassadors later that afternoon in a studio space.

He went in a different direction to yesterday's walk once he left the hotel, and Shane snapped a few photos as he went, wanting something to show Ollie when he got home. The sun was hotter than yesterday if that was possible, and Shane wriggled uncomfortably as a bead of sweat ran down his spine, soaking into the waistband of the shorts he was wearing. He was definitely grateful for the sunscreen he'd applied liberally that morning before he'd left his suite. He saw a coffee shop in the distance and hurried inside, the air conditioning hitting him like a brick wall as he closed the door behind him.

They offered a good selection of cold drinks as well as the usual coffees, so Shane mused over the selection of smoothies as he waited in line.

“Hi, could I please get a strawberry chaser?” he asked the young assistant behind the desk, paying with his card.

“Can I take a name for the order?”

“Shane. Thank you so much,” he said, accepting the receipt and tucking it into his wallet.

“Please wait over at the end of the counter. Shouldn’t be too long.”

Shane moved quickly to allow them to serve the person behind him and he went to the area at the end, joining a small group of people there. He barely looked up as he leaned against the wall, texting his mom to wish them a good day before he looked around, surprised at just how many people were here at this time of day on a random Wednesday morning.

His eyes roamed around, smiling at the sight of a group of young mothers sitting together, feeding babies in their arms as they chatted. Shane remembered those early days of Ollie’s life well, how exhausting but rewarding it all was but he quickly looked away, not wanting to be accused of staring. He saw people in suits, chatting and working on laptops, women on their own in exercise gear, headphones in their ears.

But Shane got the shock of his life when his gaze landed on a man sitting alone in the corner, absently stirring what looked like an iced tea in a tall glass. He would recognise him anywhere. It had been years since they’d last occupied the same room, but that silhouette was etched into Shane’s memory as clearly as his own reflection. Those curls were once tangled around his fingers, and those broad, muscular arms had once held him up… or pinned him down.

Somehow, impossibly, Ilya Rozanov was in the exact same café as Shane.

His breath caught in his throat as Ilya glanced up and noticed him for the first time. Shane watched surprise flicker openly across his face before Ilya quickly schooled his expression, attempting—and utterly failing—to look unaffected by the encounter.

Shane’s pulse hammered in his ears, his entire focus narrowed to the man across the room, until the sound of his name finally broke through the haze.

“Strawberry chaser for Shane!”

“Oh, that’s me, thank you so much,” he said, taking the cup and making a split decision, knowing he’d regret it forever if he didn’t. Slowly, he walked through the chairs and tables until he was standing opposite Ilya, smiling gently down at him. It was awkward for a moment, and Shane hated it, so he knew he had to do something to break the ice, to be the one to make the first move for a change, a reversal of how things used to be for them.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, and finally, Ilya’s stony persona cracked, smiling back at him. “It’s good to see you, Rozanov.”

“Shane Hollander in California… this feels wrong somehow,” Ilya joked, cancelling the call that was coming in on his phone. “How are you?”

“I’m good. Here for work, a brand deal my Mom set up. I guess this is where you live now.”

Ilya nodded, humming his agreement as he sipped his drink. Shane didn’t miss the slight tremble in his hand as he put it back down. “Mm, yes, well close enough. I am here for meeting, very boring but that is my life now. Sorry,” he muttered as he cancelled the call on his phone again.

“You can take that if you need to, I don’t want to bother you-”

Ilya shook his head. “No, is okay. You are here for work?"

"Yes," Shane nodded, confirming it. "A brand deal, a shoot for Rolex. Not my idea of a good time, but part of the job now."

"Hmm, yes. So. Are you enjoying California?”

Shane looked around the room and realised how much he felt like he didn’t belong, like this place wasn’t him at all but in a way, it was a nice escape for a couple of days. “I guess so. I mean, it’s not really my thing but it’s a nice enough place. Too hot for me, though.”

Ilya chuckled. “Yes, you always did run hot.”

It felt odd then, Ilya revealing something that hinted at their previous closeness, shattering the illusion of whatever they’d been doing for the past two minutes. Ilya’s phone buzzed once more, and he sighed, looking at Shane with regret.

“I am sorry, I should get this, must be important if they do not stop calling.” He stood up, grabbing his drink, phone in his other hand. “It was good to see you, Hollander. Enjoy California.”

And then he was gone.

Shane sat down in the seat Ilya had vacated, running the interaction through his mind, thinking of all the things he wished that he could have said. The smoothie was nice but Shane barely tasted it as he sat in a stupor, thinking about how Ilya had looked, how his Russian accent had dulled significantly in the years he’d been living in America, and since they’d last spoken. It was odd… like a version of Ilya that Shane didn’t know anymore, even though his face was the same.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up his messages. He saw that he had a few photos from his Mom, and quickly looked through them, grinning at the sight of Ollie in the garden with David, both kneeling down on the ground and weeding the flowerbeds together, Ollie in the little gardening gloves David had gotten for him. He promised to call later, and then opened a new message.

Searching his contacts Shane briefly thought he’d removed Ilya’s contact from his phone but even if he had, the phone number was imprinted on Shane’s brain. He selected the long unused contact name before he could doubt himself. His fingers hovered over the screen before he started typing, not overthinking it as the words flowed from him.

Shane locked his phone and stood up, tucking in the chair before he left, the sunshine still hot as he walked along, lost in his own thoughts, memories of moments with Ilya suddenly flooding to the surface. He still couldn’t believe what had actually happened, that Ilya had been in the cafe Shane had chosen at random, but somehow he wasn’t surprised. It seemed like fate really did always intend to bring Ilya back into his life one way or another.

He was back at the hotel before his phone buzzed in his pocket. He unlocked it, expecting it to be his mom so he froze when he saw Lily on the screen, the message waiting. Shane hadn’t realised just how much he wanted Ilya to say yes until he saw that he’d replied, and he swallowed, letting out a breath before he opened the message, reading Ilya’s words.

Shane quickly replied, telling Ilya that he could definitely make it work tomorrow, asking if he knew somewhere they could meet. Ilya took a while but then replied with a link, and Shane quickly looked it up, pleased to see it looked like somewhere that he would feel comfortable.

“Fuck!” Shane cursed as he sent the last message, realising that maybe a smiley face was a little too keen, especially since they’d only exchanged a few words. Too late now, though. As expected, no reply came so Shane quickly pushed the thought of it out of his mind, grabbing the clothes Rolex had sent over from the wardrobe and heading into the bathroom, getting into work mode.

*****

The campaign shoot had gone well, but by the time it was completed, Shane was done with being sociable, and now suddenly grateful his plans with Ilya weren’t until the next day. It had been a lot, camera flashes on him all afternoon, meeting countless new people that Shane had to make small talk with, which he wasn’t good at at the best of times. Worst still was that most of them had no idea about hockey, which left Shane very little to work with in terms of conversation.

The hotel room was peaceful and Shane collapsed onto the bed, closing his eyes as he let himself decompress after what had been a very overstimulating day in so many ways. Seeing Ilya again that morning had made it hard for Shane to concentrate the rest of the day, and all he could think about was how it was going to go tomorrow for them.

As he showered, Ilya was the only thing on Shane’s mind. Once upon a time, they’d shared hotel bathrooms like this one, enjoying each other’s bodies under the water, Ilya always letting Shane run it just a touch hotter than he preferred himself because that was the kind of person Ilya was. Shane’s hand found his dick without really meaning to, starting to stroke himself as he let his memories play on repeat in his mind, how good Ilya had been for him, how much he’d taught Shane about himself.

His shaky palm found the tiled wall, and Shane bit his lip, breathing heavily as he worked his hand over himself, trying to remember how his body had felt under Ilya’s hands all those years ago, how Ilya had been so confident in bringing Shane to pleasure in a way that Shane had been certain he would never be able to emulate. Ilya had always told Shane that he loved everything they did together, but Shane was always uncertain, sure that Ilya could get more from someone less hesitant than himself.

The face in Shane’s mind evolved into the Ilya that he’d seen today, and Shane groaned, twisting his fist as he brought himself closer to his orgasm. He looked older but somehow more refined, the stubble framing his sharp jaw, curls more blonde than Shane remembered, possibly from the Californian sun.

He allowed himself to imagine how they’d be together now, if time apart would make sex between them better than it used to be, if the desire they had for each other had lessened at all. Shane’s mind focused on Ilya’s pink lips, the golden hue his skin had taken now that he lived in California.

Ilya’s blue eyes were the only image in Shane’s head as he came hard, moaning breathily as his release fell to the floor of the shower, washing away down the drain as Shane touched himself until it was too much, his chest heaving, his eyes closed. He felt guilty that he’d used the thought of Ilya to get off, and quickly finished showering, ignoring his reflection in the mirror as he dried off, walking into his suite with his towel around his waist.

It was at times like this that Shane wished he had someone to talk with about Ilya, and his feelings about everything. It hadn’t been a full relationship, they hadn’t been exclusive and at the time, it had seemed that it was just about sex. Truthfully, though, Shane knew it had always been more for him. While he’d opened up and told people that he was gay, and that some had guessed there’d been a man years ago who Shane had fallen for, he’d never been honest, never told anyone the whole truth.

The real reason for that had been Ilya, and protecting him. They’d decided together that the risk Russia posed to Ilya’s safety was too big to ignore, especially if they were caught. It would be bad enough if Ilya was a regular person, just a Russian living in America but he was famous, and the example they could have made of him terrified both of them. Even now, Shane wasn’t sure he’d ever seen so much of a rumour as Ilya being linked to men, which told Shane all he needed to know.

Ilya was clearly still terrified about being outed, and Shane couldn’t do that to him, not now, not ever. He trusted his parents, Hayden, Jackie… he knew that if he told them about him and Ilya, that they’d keep it to themselves. But part of Shane liked it being his secret, something only he and Ilya shared. Something that would forever link them, even if they never saw each other again.

But that wasn’t the case anymore. Ilya was here in California, and so was Shane. They had plans to meet up, to have a drink and catch up on their lives. If they were seen, it wouldn’t be anything more than two old rivals catching up, reminiscing about the old days. It was something that could easily be explained away, feelings that would’ve exposed them before long gone. At least, that was what Shane was telling himself. It was the only way it could be.

*****

Shane had been up early the next day, his skin practically crawling with anticipation of seeing Ilya again. He’d completed a punishing workout in the hotel gym, his legs crying out in pain as he’d pushed himself a little too far, preferring to feel the sting of a workout over the nerves flooding his body at being in close proximity to Ilya again.

There were some small boutiques just down the road from the hotel, and Shane had hurried out after an early breakfast, deciding that everything he’d brought with him from Montreal looked too casual and not nice enough for a drink with Ilya Rozanov. It wasn’t that he wanted to be dressed up, but Shane wanted to look good, for Ilya to feel maybe proud to be seen with him.

He’d chosen a nice shirt from a designer brand he’d heard of, nothing flashy and probably something Ilya would call boring, but it didn’t matter. Shane felt good in it, and that was what counted. The hotel had an ironing service so Shane dropped it off when he got back, asking for it to be delivered back to his room in an hour, giving him plenty of time to get ready. He showered again and spent time at the bathroom mirror afterwards, shaving and styling his hair until it looked like he hadn’t spent twenty minutes staring at it in the mirror.

He got dressed, slipping his feet into his loafers before he took in his reflection in the mirrored wardrobe. He looked good, his body lean and well toned from playing professional sports for his entire adult life, but he’d grown into himself, a confidence in his shoulders that hadn’t been there all those years ago when he was with Ilya. He wasn’t the same Shane Hollander that Ilya had taken to bed over ten years ago, and he was curious to see if Ilya was different too.

As he stepped out of the elevator, Shane’s phone rang and he picked it up, heading outside to the Lyft he’d already ordered. He hadn’t wanted to risk walking to the restaurant Ilya had suggested and turning up sweaty and red faced.

“Daddy! Guess what!”

“What, my love?” Shane asked, smiling as he greeted the driver, slipping into the backseat. He pulled on his seatbelt as Ollie chatted away in his ear, telling him all about the book Yuna had bought him when they’d gone shopping, how she’d been helping him to read it. “Do you think maybe you could read me a few pages later when I’m back at my hotel?”

“Yes! Are you home soon, Daddy? I miss you.”

Shane’s heart ached as he could hear the emotion in his son’s voice, the little boy not quite having a concept of time just yet. “I miss you too, buddy, so much. One more sleep, then I’ll be home.”

“I’m gonna make you a picture,” Ollia said then, his little voice earnest, and Shane smiled, wishing he could give his son a hug. “I’m gonna draw me and you doing skating together.”

“That sounds amazing. I can put it on the fridge with all your other pictures.”

“Gonna use my best colours! Baaba, I’m gonna get my colours-”

There was a rustle then and Shane laughed, realising Ollie had probably gone off to start his artwork already. Yuna’s voice was the next he heard, chuckling softly.

“Well, he’s gone, sorry about that. How did it go yesterday?”

“It was good. They were nice people, just… I didn’t have a lot in common with anyone, so it was a bit of a long afternoon. I’m ready to head home if I’m honest, I miss Ollie.”

“I know, you’ll be back tomorrow, though. Are you out?”

“Uh, yeah, just going to get some lunch,” Shane said, hoping his expression didn’t give anything away. He wasn’t ready to tell his Mom that he was meeting Ilya. She’d never really gotten over her dislike of anyone who played for the Raiders, and she certainly wouldn’t understand why Shane wanted to meet with him after all of these years. “Someone at the campaign yesterday told me about this restaurant I had to try while I’m here, so I’ve booked a table for lunch. I don’t often get to go to places that don’t offer a children’s menu these days.”

Yuna laughed at that.

“Okay, well have fun,” she said with a smile, and Shane felt a little pang of guilt at lying by omission. “What time does your flight land?”

Shane finished up his conversation with his mom and turned his phone to ‘do not disturb’, not wanting any distractions during his time with Ilya. The Lyft pulled up and Shane thanked the driver, tipping him on his app when he was out and heading into the restaurant. It was a nice place, just the sort of place Shane would’ve picked, and he took a breath, heading over to the maitre’d, smiling.

“Hi, I’m meeting a friend, I believe he booked a table?”

“What name, please?”

“Rozanov. Ilya Rozanov.”

The man nodded, showing no recognition as he smiled at Shane politely. “Certainly, follow me please.”

Shane’s gaze darted across the room until it caught on him.

There he was, seated at a table on the other side of the room, as if Shane hadn’t spent years convincing himself this moment would never happen. Even from a distance, Shane could see the tension in him - the stiffness in his shoulders, the way his hands hovered too still on the table. He could still read him after all these years, and Shane felt almost relieved to see that Ilya looked just as unsettled as he felt.

For a moment, Shane couldn’t move.

Then, before he could talk himself out of it, Shane started to walk slowly towards him, finally closing the distance between them.

Chapter End Notes

Whoops?

See you soon for more.

Chapter 4

Chapter Summary

This is weird right? But like good weird.

I knew you’d be a good dad

Illy.

Chapter Notes

So happy people are enjoying this one so far! I loved writing it and I'm pleased everyone is loving Ollie as much as I do.

Please let me know your thoughts on this one... I have enjoyed reading your comments so much and I am trying my best to reply!

xx

Shane could see that Ilya hadn’t seen him approaching, not just yet.

He allowed himself to take in the sight of Ilya sitting and waiting for him, his foot tapping nervously on the floor, staring at some non-descript artwork on the wall. When they were within a couple of paces of the table, Ilya finally looked up, and Shane’s stomach swooped at the soft smile Ilya gave him.

“Your waiter will be over shortly, gentlemen,” he said before he disappeared, finally leaving them alone.

“I’m glad you came,” Ilya said, the first words spoken between them. “I had bad feeling you would not.”

“Why? I’m the one who asked you for a drink,” Shane said with a gentle laugh, pulling his chair a little closer to the table and allowing himself to properly look at Ilya. He looked like he’d made an effort with his appearance, just like Shane had, and for some reason, Shane appreciated that it might have meant just as much to Ilya as it did to him.

Ilya was wearing a nice navy polo shirt, the material fitted to his body and making his blue eyes pop. His hair was styled nicely, curls soft looking in the light of the room. His biceps still looked how Shane remembered them, and he quickly diverted his eyes, not wanting to seem obvious.

“It was a shock to get messages from Jane again,” Ilya said after a few seconds, a small smile teasing at the edges of his mouth.

Shane couldn’t help but chuckle at that, knowing that was true for him too. “Well, I’m just glad you didn’t change your number. I had to remind myself that you were still saved as Lily in my phone.” He locked eyes with Ilya for a second, only breaking away when he felt a little awkward, like he was staring. “Brings back some memories, huh?”

Ilya nodded, about to speak when a waiter appeared beside their table, interrupting their conversation.

“Good afternoon, welcome. Can I start by getting you some drinks?”

“I’ll get a beer please, and a ginger ale for my friend,” Ilya said, quickly looking at Shane who nodded, smiling at the realisation that Ilya had remembered his order after all this time.

“Did you want to see the menu?”

They looked at each other and Shane shrugged, realising that maybe it might be nice to have a meal while they were here. Ilya accepted the menus and handed one to Shane, both of them leaving them closed in front of them.

“This is weird, right?” Ilya asked, and Shane laughed, pleased that he’d broken the ice a little bit. “Feels so strange to see you again.”

“Good strange?” Shane couldn’t resist asking, and he smiled as Ilya nodded. “Good. I’m glad. I really was so pleased to bump into you yesterday. Feels like it was meant to happen, you know? Us being in the same place at the same time.”

“Is a big coincidence, I am not usually in LA,” Ilya said, looking up as his beer was placed in front of him, mumbling his thanks to the waiter. “So how have you been, Hollander?”

“Shane, please,” Shane said, and Ilya nodded. “I’ve been good. Great, actually. I don’t know how much you’ve followed the eastern division…”

Ilya grinned, rolling his eyes at the mere thought at the idea that he didn’t watch or follow hockey, for the division he used to play in. “I know you are Captain of the Centaurs, that you have won Stanley Cups. I keep up with it, Shane, and I still speak with Marly. He tells me he likes playing against you.”

“I like playing him, and the Raiders. He’s a good guy, a good Captain,” Shane said, pleased to be talking about hockey, on safe ground like this. “They played really well last season, I thought they were going to catch us at one point.”

Ilya opened his menu, looking down at it. “But you still won. Four Cups, Shane. Always have to beat me.” There was no malice in his voice, and he looked up, straight into Shane’s eyes. “You deserve it. You have built good legacy.”

“I love the game,” Shane shrugged, looking down at his own menu. “Truthfully, I’m not sure how many years I have left in me. Might be joining you in the retired ranks soon enough.”

Ilya shook his head, smirking slightly. “Uh, no, you are not ready to retire. I watch you on ice, you are just as quick, just as smart. Five or even six cups would be historic, yes?”

“I guess so. But… I don’t know, I’m thinking about it at the moment. There’s a lot to… yeah. Enough about me, though. How about you?”

“What about me?” Ilya asked, the pair pausing their conversation to order their food, thanking the waiter and handing back their menus. “I played until I got hurt, now I am video coach for Hammerheads.”

“I know. I, uh, I watched your game a while back. What? Like you don’t know that all I watch is hockey. Do you enjoy it?”

Ilya paused, sipping on his beer while he contemplated the answer. “I am good at it,” was all he could manage. “Allows me to stay in America, for Visa. Good team, good people.”

“And do you like California? Living here?”

“Is okay. Nice place, nice sunshine.”

Shane was longing to hear Ilya talk more, and he asked him a question he knew the Russian wouldn’t be able to hold back from answering. “Tell me about your team?”

Ilya grinned, and the pair started to talk easily about hockey, a subject they were both comfortable with. Shane noticed how Ilya lit up as he talked about the people that he worked with, the talent that he saw and nurtured on the ice. Ilya spoke about how he enjoyed being on the road, travelling with the team, apparently good friends with the team’s Captain.

“Do you miss it? Playing the game, I mean.”

Ilya waited to answer while their meals were put in front of them. He’d ordered chicken parm, while Shane had settled for chicken and rice, with a small side salad. He eyes the tomatoes, laughing when he looked up, catching Ilya’s eye.

“What?”

“Just wondering if you are over tomato fear.”

“It isn’t a fear,” Shane laughed, picking up his knife and fork. “I just… I don’t like the way they burst in my mouth.”

Ilya nodded, smiling ever so slightly, that if Shane wasn’t looking carefully, he would’ve missed it. “I remember.”

Wordlessly, and without even bothering to wait for permission, Ilya picked up his fork and stabbed the few cherry tomatoes in Shane’s salad, putting them on his own plate. Shane almost couldn’t believe Ilya had remembered something so small and insignificant behind him, and he was struggling to name how that made him feel. He cleared his throat, bringing the conversation back to something safer. “So, I asked if you missed playing hockey.”

“Sometimes,” Ilya admitted between mouthfuls of pasta, the two of them eating slowly so that they could continue to talk. “I practice sometimes, with the team. To keep up my skills. But… I have to be careful with my knee.”

“Yeah, I read about that, when you announced your retirement. Is it holding up okay?”

“I had surgery a few years ago, to steady it. No, um-”

“Stabilise it?”

Ilya smiled gratefully as Shane provided the correct vocabulary. “Da, stabilise it. Is mostly good, just… I am getting old.”

“We’re in our early thirties, Rozan-”

“Ilya.”

“Sorry, Ilya. We’re not old. This sport is hard on the body, at least your job means you can be off the ice if you need to.”

“I guess so.”

“Can I ask why you moved out here? Seems extreme, to go to the other side of the country. Did Boston not want to renew your contract?”

“They did but… I needed change,” Ilya said, not meeting Shane’s eye now. An awkward silence settled between them for a few minutes until Ilya spoke again. “I wanted a fresh start, where no one knew me. Where no one had expectations of me being player, a fuck boy-”

“Hey, don’t do that-”

“No, is true. I had reputation, Shane, you know this more than anyone. I wanted to be different, so I move. Start again.”

“And that’s worked out for you?”

Ilya nodded. “I think so. I live quiet, boring life now.” They shared a soft smile. Ilya paused, like he was contemplating asking something. He took a breath, then spoke, his voice steady. “So. You have a son.”

Shane nodded, having wondered how long it would take for Ilya to bring him up. “Yeah, I do. Oliver, or Ollie, he’s recently turned four. He’s wonderful, I… I love being a father so much.”

“Does he play?”

“He skates with me. I take him to the rink, he has lessons-”

Ilya laughed loudly at that, making a few people look over to them. “Sorry, just… Shane Hollander is paying someone to teach his son to skate?”

Shane laughed too, enjoying how the two of them seemed to be more relaxed now. “I want him to take it seriously, and I feel like he’ll do that better if he has a proper coach. It’s also good for him to mix with other kids. My mom usually takes him to his lessons.”

“You don’t go?”

Shane shrugged awkwardly. “I mean, sometimes, but then people freak out when I’m there, and ask me to help coach, or take photos… sometimes I just want to be Ollie’s dad, not Shane Hollander, you know?”

“I get it. You, uh, have photo? I have seen him on your Instagram, but not his face…”

“Yeah, I try and keep his face private, so he doesn’t have to grow up with his face plastered online, not until he’s old enough that he can tell me he’s okay with it,” Shane said as he fished his phone out of his pocket. His lockscreen was a picture of Ollie’s face smushed against his own, and he turned it, showing Ilya. “That was a few months ago, at his birthday party.”

Ilya reached out, taking the phone and looking down at it with an expression Shane couldn’t name. He bit his lip, just staring at the screen. “He is so much like you.”

It was something that Shane never tired of hearing, even after four years. The older Ollie got, the more he looked like Shane, and there was a certain amount of fatherly pride Shane had over that. “Yeah, I hear that a lot. Hollander genes must be pretty strong.”

“Those curls are not yours, though.”

“No,” Shane agreed, not wanting to get into where they came from, not just yet. “Pass it here, I have an album of my favourite photos. Let me show you.” Ilya handed back Shane’s phone, and he quickly navigated to the album, clicking on the first photo before he handed it back. “Sorry, there’s a lot, you can just come out of it and look at the ones you want to…”

“No, I want to look at them all.”

Ilya meant what he said because ten minutes later, Shane had eaten the rest of his meal without saying a word, Ilya engrossed in Shane’s phone as he silently ate his meal with one hand, the other scrolling through the photos Shane had invited him to see. He watched a range of emotions pass over Ilya’s face, the small smile on his lips never shifting as his fingers swiped over and over. Finally, Ilya must’ve reached the end because he clicked on one more photo, staring at it before he looked up at Shane.

He turned the screen so Shane could see, revealing a photo that Yuna had taken a few weeks ago, of Shane and Ollie on the ice together. Shane was in jeans and a Centaurs hoodie, while Ollie was wearing his jersey and helmet, skates looking huge at the end of his tiny legs. But their smiles were identical, and their red flushed cheeks from skating around together lit up the photo.

“This is my favourite. Just… you both look so happy.”

“I love that one, too. He looks so cute in his hockey gear.”

“Your jersey?” Ilya asked, and Shane nodded. “Adorable. Does he actually like hockey, or…”

“He loves it. I wouldn’t make him do it if he didn’t like it. He asks to go to the rink all the time. He comes for games and practices quite a lot. I want him to be around as much as he can be before he starts school next year..”

Ilya laughed, shaking his head. “All very grown up, Hollander, talking about school.”

“I know, god. Who would’ve thought it?!”

“Me,” Ilya said, his voice quiet as he finally passed Shane back his phone, taking one last look at the photo lighting up the screen. “Always thought you would be good dad. Is always nice to be right.”

“You… thought about that stuff?”

“Sometimes. I saw when we meet kids before games, how you were with them. You were so kind. I always admired that about you, Shane.”

“Just that?”

“No. Not just that.”

Shane hoped he wasn’t blushing as much as he feared he was at Ilya’s admission. It was a lot to hear him talking so kindly about Shane like that, and he just whispered his thanks, frantically thinking of a way to change the conversation to something that wouldn’t have Shane wanting the ground to open up and swallow him whole. It was Ilya who spoke first, though.

“So. You have had other boyfriend?”

Shane just blinked, caught somewhere between surprise and a complete lack of it at Ilya’s bluntness. Other boyfriend. Did that mean Ilya had considered himself to be Shane’s boyfriend back then? The thought was almost too much to contemplate right now.

“...I. No.”

“No?”

“No, Ilya. I’ve had a couple girlfriends, clearly. But… I’ve been on dates with guys, yeah. Before Melissa, before Ollie. But I’ve never… been with another man. Only you.”

Ilya just blinked, like he was taking in Shane’s words, digesting them, working out how to respond. “Oh.”

“Fuck. Maybe that was too much, I didn’t have to-”

“No. Is okay. Is… good to know.” He paused, sipping his wine for a second before he spoke again. “I have been with others. But… no one person I want to keep.”

Shane willed him to carry on, to confirm that maybe Shane had been that person years ago for him but of course Ilya said nothing. If anything, he appeared to almost shut down, like Shane’s confession hadn’t just happened.

“How long are you in California?” Ilya asked abruptly, changing the subject.

“I fly back tomorrow morning,” Shane said, pushing away the feeling admitting that gave him. “We have a game on Saturday, and I try not to be away from Ollie for too long if I don’t have to be.”

“He stays with your parents?”

“Yeah, they’re amazing. I couldn’t do it without them.”

“His mother-”

“Is not around. Her choice. It’s fine, we make the best of it.”

“Ollie does not see her?” Ilya must’ve seen something in Shane’s face because he suddenly backtracked, looking embarrassed. “Shit, ignore me. I have no right to ask-”

“Hey, no it’s fine, I don’t mind talking about it, not with you. Ollie talks to her on the phone, and she sees him for his birthday and Christmas. But the visits are getting shorter each time. He doesn’t seem to miss her, which makes it easier. He has me and my parents, Hayden and Jackie and their kids, he has the Cens who adore him. I think Troy Barrett is his favourite human. He’s got plenty of love around.”

“I saw that,” Ilya said, nodding towards Shane’s phone. “You still see Pike?”

“He’s Ollie’s godfather,” Shane said with a smile. “We go to visit him in Montreal a lot, and they come up and stay with us in Ottawa. Ollie loves Arthur, there’s a bit of hero worship going on there, I think.”

“Pike is still Metros’ 15th best player?”

“Maybe a little more than that now,” Shane laughed, loving how Ilya was probably never going to let that go, even if Pike was a successful Captain now. “He’s been great. I had no idea what I was doing when I brought Ollie home that first night, so he came and stayed with me for the first week. He and my parents got me through that, I had no idea how hard it was going to be, with a newborn by myself.”

“You are both lucky to have lots of good people around you.”

“Do you have anyone around you that you spend your time with?” Shane decided to ask, and Ilya quickly shook his head.

“No. Sveta is still in Boston, but we see each other a lot. I speak to Marly, and Connors sometimes. But I spend most of time with team. Is fine.”

Shane hated the thought of Ilya being lonely, but he didn’t know how to say as much without offending him. They weren’t close anymore, and perhaps it wasn’t Shane’s job to worry about him in that way, not after so long.

The waiter came over and offered dessert but they both turned it down, too full after their meals. They finished up their drinks, and Shane ignored the uncomfortable swirling in his belly when he realised that the meal had come to a natural end, that he had no reason to drag out their time together any further.

The check came, and Shane reached for it, but Ilya had gotten there first, smiling at Shane as he handed over his card. “My treat.”

“I asked you for a drink,” Shane protested but Ilya waved it off, thanking the waiter as he brought back his card and the receipt. “This was really nice, Ilya.”

“I am glad you asked me for drinks.”

They both stood, and all of a sudden, Shane really didn’t want this to end. They headed out together, thanking the staff as they walked out into the Californian sunshine, coming to a standstill outside the restaurant.

“It was really good to see you again, Ilya. I’m glad we did this.”

“Me too. Say hello to your son for me?”

“I will do,” Shane said with a grin, wondering if he should hug Ilya or shake his hand. “Thank you for the dinner.”
“You are welcome.” Ilya just looked at Shane like he was waiting for something more, but Shane wasn’t sure what to do.

Instead, he just smiled, pushing his phone into his back pocket. “Take care of yourself, Ilya.”

“You too, Shane.”

Before he could think twice, Shane stepped forward, quickly wrapping his arms around Ilya’s shoulders. As had always been the way, Ilya’s arms found his waist and they sank into it for a brief few seconds before Ilya pulled away, a light blush staining his cheeks, but Shane decided not to call him out on it.

“Thank you again for lunch.”

“You already said but you are welcome again. Goodbye, Shane.”

With a small wave of his hand, Ilya turned and walked away, leaving Shane exactly where he was, watching Ilya become a speck in the distance and then… gone.

Shane returned back to the hotel not sure what he was meant to be doing with himself that night but thankful that his trip had included the extra day for him to have the time to meet up with Ilya. He settled on watching game tape on his ipad and planning for the next practice that he’d be leading when he returned home. They had another game in 3 days and he was determined for them to continue their winning streak from the early season games.

*****

“Come here, I need cuddles,” Shane demanded the next evening, finally back home in Ottawa with Ollie where he belonged. He’d not heard anything from Ilya since their lunch, but he hadn’t been able to get the other man out of his mind, which is why he was now watching clips of old Montreal vs Boston games on YouTube. “You have to go to bed soon, okay?”

“Not tired,” Ollie protested, but Shane begged to differ. By now, he could read his son like a book, and his eyes were heavy, his movements more sluggish than normal. Ollie finally looked up at the television, crawling into Shane’s lap as he frowned at the hockey on screen. “Who’s that?”

“Really? Look carefully,” Shane said, and he pointed quickly, seeing Ollie’s face light up in recognition.

“That’s you, Daddy! You look different.”

“This was a long time ago,” Shane said, adjusting Ollie on his lap so his son could rest against his chest as the game continued on screen. “This was a long time before you were born. I was only about twenty one here.”

The camera panned out and showed some of the audience, Ollie giggling in delight when he saw Yuna and David’s faces fill the screen. Shane felt nostalgic as he listened to the commentators talk about many of his old teammates, some of who were still playing, others who had left the game for a variety of reasons.

“Who’s that?” Ollie asked as the camera found Shane on the ice, talking to someone in a black Boston Raiders jersey. He saw no harm in telling the truth, so Shane spoke quietly, watching a young version of himself talk to someone all too familiar.

“His name is Ilya Rozanov. He was one of Daddy’s friends a long time ago.”

“He not your friend now?”

“I suppose he is,” Shane admitted, smiling at the thought. “He was a great hockey player, Ol. One of the best. Maybe even better than me. He always made me play better too, because I wanted to beat him so bad. You’d have loved to have seen him play.”

Ollie shifted, looking up at Shane, his beautiful brown eyes wide open. “Can he come and play with me?”

“What?”

“If he is your friend, you could ask him over for a playdate. Like when we go to play with Arthur. You could ask Illy-”

“Ilya.”

“Illy,” Ollie repeated, frowning when he couldn’t get it right. “He could play with my toys, I would share. Does he like cars?”

“That’s so kind of you, sweetheart. And yes, Ilya likes cars very much,” Shane paused, wondering if that was still true. “But Ilya lives a long way from Ottawa, and he has a job with another hockey team.” The thought of Ilya sitting on the floor of his home playing toy cars with his son did things to Shane he didn’t want to admit. “Right, it’s getting late. Go and brush your teeth, I’ll come and read you a story.”

Shane paused the television, blinking slowly when he realised Ilya’s face was frozen in time on his screen, focused on something off camera, probably Shane if he was being honest. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Ollie that playing Ilya had always made him a better hockey player, and he shook himself out of his daydreams, hurrying upstairs to find Ollie scrubbing his teeth in the bathroom.

“Good boy, make sure you do the ones right at the back.”

Shane cleaned up Ollie’s face and the two of them made quick work of tidying up Ollie’s room, just in case he got up for the bathroom in the middle of the night. Last year, they’d had an unfortunate incident where Ollie had tripped over a teddy he’d left laying on the floor, and they’d ended up in the ER at three in the morning, Ollie with an enormous egg on his forehead where he’d tripped and fallen into the wall. Shane would take any hockey injury over going through that again.

They read one of Ollie’s favourite bedtime stories, and Shane sat stroking his hair until he fell asleep, Ellie the elephant tucked up next to him in bed. Shane kissed his forehead and then decided he may as well head to bed himself. He grabbed his iPad and loaded up YouTube, bringing up the press conference he and Ilya had taken part in just after the draft.

Shane remembered how it had felt to sit next to the man they’d called his rival at just turned eighteen years old, thrust into the spotlight with cameras in their faces as they’d been asked questions, many of them too wordy for a nervous Ilya to understand. It was the first time Shane had really understood just what Ilya had given up to be there, and how much harder he had to work than Shane did, particularly in terms of communication.

He watched the micro expressions on Ilya’s face as he struggled to comprehend the questions, relief flickering as Shane stepped in, answering for the pair of them. Shane remembered how it had felt to feel Ilya’s foot nudge his under the table, a silent thank you that had meant so much. The Ilya on screen was such a change from the confident man Shane had sat opposite just yesterday lunchtime, and he suddenly felt incredibly proud of the career and life that Ilya had built for himself, alone in a new country and determined to succeed.

Shane reached for his phone, bringing up his messages with Ilya, slowly tapping out a message, carefully thinking about how he wanted to phrase it.

If you’re ever in Ottawa, I’d love for you to visit.

No. Too keen.

It would be nice to see you again, perhaps we could-

Again, no. Too much. His fingers tapped out the next letters slowly, like it was too much to admit.

I miss you.

One by one, Shane deleted the letters and sighed, locking his phone and putting it back down. He didn’t know what to say, if there was anything Ilya would want to hear from him. It had felt final when Ilya had said goodbye, and maybe that was enough. Seeing him again had been easy, almost comforting. There had been no bitterness, no lingering blame. Just two people standing where something used to be. And yet, as the silence settled back in, Shane couldn’t shake the feeling that something remained - unsaid, unresolved.

But maybe this was how they had always been meant to end. Shane was grateful for the time he got with Ilya, for the chance to reassure himself that he was okay now, that they had both found good lives in the end. He kept telling himself that it was enough. He just wasn’t sure his heart agreed.

Chapter End Notes

Coming up next...

a new first for Shane and Ilya...

Chapter 5

Chapter Summary

Pre-Game practice

Video Evidence

Hello?

Chapter Notes

I am so happy that people are enjoying this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Seeing the love for Ollie honestly puts the biggest grin on my face!

Hope you enjoy this one too...

Let me know your thoughts in the comments please, they truly make my day when I read them.x

“Come on then,” Shane said as he reached into the car, hoisting Ollie out of his car seat and setting him down on the ground. “Wait there while I get our bags.”

The Centaurs were due to play the Montreal Metros that night at home in Ottawa, and Shane was excited because it meant that Ollie would be at the game with his parents. It was still early, only eleven in the morning, so Shane had decided to come to the rink a little early to wear off some of the nervous energy he could feel building up under his skin.

He hoisted his bags out of the car, Ollie’s skates in with Shane’s own and then went back to his son, taking his hand as they walked across the parking lot and towards the rink. There were only a few cars there at this time of the morning, so Shane was unsurprised to see most of the corridors empty as they made their way inside.

He pushed open the locker room door with his foot and let Ollie go in ahead of him, settling comfortably in Bood’s stall, which was next to Shane’s. He set down their bags and pulled out his phone, smiling at the notification he saw there. He tapped out a reply then put his phone up on the shelf in his cubby, not needing it for now.

“Okay, let’s get you changed and we’ll go and practice,” Shane said, and Ollie nodded, always happy to comply. He held up his arms as Shane stripped him off, getting him into the gear he always made him wear on the ice. It didn’t matter that this was just for fun, Shane wanted to make sure Ollie was safe, and that meant wearing the right gear. Everything was custom, much of it sent to Shane by CCM and other providers, all wanting to be the ones dressing the son of the most decorated player in Stanley Cup history.

“Daddy,” Ollie said as he sat heavily on the floor, carefully pulling off his trainers and leaving them neatly next to Shane’s, “is Lily gonna be here?”

“Who’s Lily, bud?”

“The friend from the TV Daddy.” Shane froze at Ollie’s mistake, blinking rapidly to stop the laugh that was threatening to come out. “Uh, no, Ollie. Not Lily. Ilya, with an I.”

“Illy.”

“Ilya.”

“I said that, Daddy,” Ollie huffed, glaring at Shane. “So is Illy gonna be here?”

“Why would Ilya be here, Ol?”

Ollie shrugged in that easy way that he did. “He plays hockey. We play hockey. We could play hockey together?”

Shane’s heart wanted to explode at the adorable words tumbling from Ollie’s mouth, but he turned to his son, watching him as he struggled to pull on the unwieldy skates, the laces dangling loosely from the boots. “Remember I said that Ilya lives far away? He still watches hockey, but in his own house. He doesn’t live in Canada like us.”

“Oh. Okay.” Ollie reached for his skate guards, clipping them on expertly, his hand-eye coordination excellent for his age, Shane noted. “Can we do goals again please?”

Shane didn’t bother to pull all of his gear on, but he did tug on his own jersey, a spare, not the one he’d be wearing tonight for the game. “Sure. Sit on the bench and I’ll tie your skates up.”

When they were both in their skates and gear, Shane grabbed their sticks and held Ollie’s hand until he got his balance on his skate guards. They walked towards the rink, and he grinned as Ollie bent down, pulling off each skate guard with practiced ease. He waited at the gate and Shane lifted him over, watching him skate confidently by himself, stopping when he realised his dad wasn’t with him.

“Daddy, come on! Catch me!”

Shane grinned and pulled off his own skate guards, quickly joining his son on the ice. He felt proud as watched Ollie moving around the ice in a way that defied his age, genes probably playing some part in that. After a few minutes of skating just a few paces behind Ollie, Shane grabbed him and lifted him up, making Ollie squeal in delight as he was pushed into the air as Shane skated around.

“Put me down, I wanna shoot goals!”

Their sticks were still by the bench and Shane skated over, surprised to see Harris standing there, grinning at him.

“Hey, you’re in early,” Shane said, skidding to a stop and checking over his shoulder that Ollie was still whizzing around on the ice, which he was. “Boss got you working hard?”

“Only one working me hard is myself. Troy is just gearing up, I think he wants to join you both.”

“Cool, Ollie will be happy. You good?”

“Yeah. Coach Wiebe wants me to take some photos of practice for the socials,” Harris said, holding up the small camera he shot most of their social media on. “You mind if I get a video of Ollie?”

“As long as it’s-”

“From the back, I know, Cap,” Harris said with a wink as Troy came up behind him, slipping an arm around his waist. “Ollie, dude, come here!”

Ollie turned smoothly on the ice and gained speed before he crashed into Shane’s leg, grabbing on to keep himself upright.

“I nearly felled over.”

“Fell over, and yes you did. We need to work on your stopping,” Shane laughed as Troy stepped onto the ice. Ollie squealed and skated over, waving frantically at Troy, Shane forgotten. “Charming. Four years of love and devotion, and dumped for Troy Barrett.”

“Not my fault I’m the coolest Centaur, right?” Troy said, picking Ollie up and holding him on his hip. He was wearing his own Cens jersey, and Shane could see Harris’ social media mind working overtime. “You want a photo, don’t you?”

“Please. All of you in a line, turned around so I can see the names please.”

Troy put Ollie down onto the ice, and the two men skated away with Ollie in between them, holding his hands. Harris directed them, getting Troy to adjust Shane’s jersey so his surname could be seen clearly before he counted down. Shane looked at his son and laughed at the fact Ollie was doing his cheesy camera smile for Harris even though he wasn’t facing the lens.

“Good job, I’m gonna post this one if you’re good with it, Cap,” Harris called, and Shane headed over, checking out the photo before he nodded his approval. “You know whenever I post Ollie, our engagement goes wild, and that’s crazy considering we’ve never shown his face. He is definitely the coolest four year old around.”

“He is,” Shane nodded, agreeing easily as he turned, watching Troy helping Ollie to practice his stops on the ice. Ollie almost face planted the floor, but Shane hesitated, wanting Ollie to get himself up. He almost managed it, his knee slipping so Troy reached out, helping him back onto his blades, brushing the ice off Ollie’s jersey and shorts before they tried again. “He’s so good with him.”

“Tell me about it,” Harris replied, his eyes soft and full of love as he watched his husband skate around with Ollie. “I love watching him with kids, and there’s something really special about watching him practice with Ollie.”

Shane just stared at Harris for a moment. They were close, often coming over to Shane’s for dinner, and Shane didn’t feel like he was intruding as he asked the question he’d been thinking about for a few months now. “You think you and Troy want children?”

Harris looked at Shane, raising an eyebrow. “Is that even a question? Of course I want children with him. But he wants to wait until he retires, when he can be at home with us. He hates leaving Chiron as much as he does, so there’s no way he’d be cool leaving a baby behind.”

“I get it, it’s really tough,” Shane agreed. “I think if Ollie hadn't happened the way he did, I’d have waited too. But then I’d have missed out on seeing all these huge hockey players going gooey over my son, and… well, doing that,” he laughed, indicating where Troy was spread out on his back on the ice, pretending to shield himself from the imaginary snowballs Ollie was throwing. A voice echoed loudly behind them, and Shane grinned, recognising it.

“Captain! Where’s my favourite four year old?”

Shane looked around Harris, seeing Bood, Dysktra and Hayes coming down the tunnel, none of them in their gear but in their skates, ready for a practice of sorts. Shane had ordered a team practice after lunch, but it said a lot about the work ethic of the team that they’d shown up hours early.

“With Troy, how are…” Shane trailed off as all three men walked straight past him and took speedily to the ice, calling out Ollie’s name as they hurried towards him. “Honestly, I might as well be invisible. I’m going to join them, feel free to take some photos of us. You can post them as long as Ollie’s face isn’t shown.”

“Thanks, I might take some,” Harris said, waving off Shane as he skated away, joining the group of people in the middle of the ice. They all had their sticks and Shane pulled the puck from his pocket, waving it so that Ollie could see.

“Can we play?” he asked eagerly, trying to reach the puck, but Shane held it just out of reach. “Daddy, c’mon!”

“Alright. Are you on my team?”

“No, wanna be with Troy,” Ollie said, looking at the other players around him before he settled on his next teammate. “And Bood. You wanna be on my team, Bood?”

“Absolutely, kiddo,” Bood grinned, skating away and leaving Shane with Hayes and Dykstra. “There’s no way you guys can win this, we have our secret weapon.”

“That’s me! I’m the weapon!” Ollie shrieked, and all five men laughed happily, nodding along and agreeing with him. “Kay Daddy, no cheating.”

“What?! I do not cheat!” Shane insisted, but he didn’t mind Ollie’s teasing, not when he looked so happy.
“Who is at the centre?”

“Me and Evan,” Ollie said and skated over to the red circle, his tiny body and stick eclipsed by the sheer size of Dykstra opposite him. Shane held the puck and counted down, dropping it. He watched as Dykstra purposely fumbled in getting the puck, letting Ollie’s little legs skate away as fast as they could. Wyatt was already in goal and he grinned as Ollie neared, weaving the puck around, Bood on his tail as his defence.

“Go, Ollie, shoot!” Bood called, and Ollie paused, letting the puck stop before he swung his stick, the black disc shooting past Hayes’ left foot into the goal. “Yes!”

“I scored! Daddy, did you see?!” Ollie ignored the fact Shane was on the opposing team as he skated at him, Shane bending in time to hoist him into the air, kissing his cheek. “I got a goal, I beat Wyatt!”

“You sure did! Back to centre,” Shane grinned, letting Ollie back onto the ice, skating over with the puck himself this time. “Hollander vs Hollander. A match up for the ages.”

“We haven’t been playing ages, we just started,” Ollie insisted, and all of the adults looked at each other, smiling at Ollie’s misunderstanding. “Bood, can you do the drop please?”

“Sure, dude,” Bood said, skating over and picking up the puck. “Go easy on him, Ollie. He’s getting old.”

“Rude,” Shane said through gritted teeth, pushing down his competitive spirit. When the puck dropped, he caught it and skated away, knowing that Ollie needed to deal with not always winning a face off, as fun as it was to watch. He skated slowly, hearing Ollie panting as he caught up with him. He looked up and saw Troy, nodded to indicate he was going to pass him the puck. He hit it over to Troy, shocked to watch Ollie skate in between them, snatching the puck on the end of his blade. “Woah…”

“Your boy’s got mad skills,” Troy commented as they took off after him, Shane seeing Harris filming them out of the corner of his eye. Soon, Shane was level with his son, reaching out with his stick but Ollie saw it coming, turning and sending the puck across the ice to a waiting Bood, who shot with far too much force at Hayes, who only just flicked it away.

“No! Come on Bood, I thought you was good!” Ollie shouted almost angrily, and Shane dissolved into laughter at that, Bood sputtering in protest but he was clearly struggling to hold himself together as well.

“Absolutely savage, Hollzy,” Dysktra said as he skated over, clapping Shane on the shoulder. “What a kid you’re raising there.”

“Damn right,” Shane said, full of pride for both his son’s skating skills, and now his chirping ones, apparently.

“Oh, fuck, I got all of that on video,” Harris said a while later while Ollie was sitting eating a hot dog and fries with Bood and Troy, the much healthier packed lunch Shane had brought with them long forgotten in his stall. “His face is there but I’ll blur it. There’s no way I can’t post this, it’s fucking gold. Look at Bood’s face!”

Shane leaned in, watching the video playing on the little screen of the camera, laughing as Harris zoomed in, Ollie’s voice ringing out clearly as he chastised Bood for his miss. It was perfect, and already Shane knew the social media reaction would be brilliant.

By the time the game rolled around later that evening, Shane had spent most of the day with Ollie and his team. They’d insisted that Ollie stay on the ice with them while they practiced, with Yuna joining on her skates to keep Ollie out of the way as much as possible. He was taken home for dinner with Yuna and David before he was brought back to the rink for the game.

They were playing the Metros and Shane had popped into the visitors locker room, saying hi to some of his former teammates before the game began. There was no animosity between them when they weren’t on the ice, and he always appreciated how everyone asked after him and Ollie, genuinely interested in his answers. Hayden had even come over to say hi to Ollie, both of them hugging, smiling at Shane’s phone as he took a photo of them together which he sent to Jackie with a few heart emojis.

Despite his friendships with the opposition, Shane forgot all of that as soon as the first period began. He was fierce with his plays, running rings around the team he’d been with for so many years. He surprised them time and time again, pulling off moves that would have been impossible for pretty much anyone else. By the end of the first period, Shane was sweating heavily, his muscles burning in that way he enjoyed that meant he was working hard.

By the end of the second period, they were 2-1 down to the Metros, and Shane wasn’t having that. He took the team back to the locker room and stood with Coach Wiebe, quickly changing up their strategy to try and keep things fresh. Shane knew his team should’ve easily been able to beat the Metros, and he was frustrated that they seemed to have gotten the better of them so far.

Usually, Ollie would be visiting Shane by now, so he knew that his parents had sensed his frustration and he decided to keep him away, that Shane needed to focus for now. He felt a fresh wave of determination flood his body as the crowd roared when they returned to the ice, ready to try and turn things around for the team. Shane saw Ollie in Yuna’s arms just behind where the team bench was and he gave him a quick thumbs up, pretending to catch the kiss that Ollie blew him before he skated to the centre.

Whatever Shane and Wiebe had said to the team in the break seemed to have worked because the Centaurs were playing like they’d been invigorated, like they were determined not to lose. Shane yelled jubilantly as Haas sank the puck into the goal off Shane’s assist, the gathered crowds going wild as the game was finally tied.

It was still tied when the final whistle blew, and Shane skated over to the bench, getting a drink as he decided with Coach who would be on the ice for the 3 on 3 overtime. He was tired, but Shane knew he had to stay out, that Montreal would be sending out their best to win this game. He called over Troy and Haas, telling them they were joining him, and he fist-bumped a few of his teammates before he skated back out.

“Let’s finish this, guys,” he said, pulling his helmet back on. A glance over at Ollie showed his son was still awake, this time with a giant foam finger on his hand, cheering loudly for his dad. Shane was hit with a sudden need to make Ollie proud, and he focused on blocking out the rest of the noise, not wanting to ruin the Centaurs winning streak this season so far.

Play was fast and furious, the Metros matching every move that Shane and his teammates made, the crowd screaming encouragement. It was only ninety three seconds into the overtime that Shane caught the puck, flying down the ice before he slammed the puck into the corner of the net, the Metros goalie barely able to register what had happened before Shane was pulled into a hug, celebrating with the two men on the ice with him.

He skated a couple of laps around, waving at the gathered crowds before he headed over to the person who mattered most tonight. Yuna and David praised him for his play that night before Shane picked up Ollie, hugging him tightly.

“You won, Daddy.”

“Yeah, I did. Did I do a good job tonight?”

“Yeah, so good. Can I see the team?”

“We’ll meet you at the locker room,” David said as Shane nodded, skating away with his son in his arms. Fans were waving at the two of them, and Shane’s heart felt full as he realised that nobody was holding up their phones, taking photos. Instead, they were just smiling and waving, cheering for their captain and respecting the fact his four year old was with him.

The teams were lining up to head back through the tunnel so Shane quickly handed Ollie off to Harris, who was waiting for him at the gate. Shane skated back into place and thanked the Metros, hugging Hayden quickly before the rest of the team walked past, fist bumping him for their win. He followed them last of all, joining them in the locker room, where Ollie was standing next to Troy, nodding as he was spoken to.

“Daddy, Troy gave me his glove!” Ollie said, beaming at Shane as he clutched the glove tightly to his chest. “Can I have it?”

“Yeah, if he gave it to you,” Shane said. “You can put it with all of your other things in your room. Put it in my bag so you don’t lose it.”

Ollie shook his head. “I’ll hold it please.”

“Alright. Grandpa will be here to get you in a minute,” Shane said, pulling off his jersey and throwing it towards the laundry bin in the corner of the room. He removed his pads and sat down, pulling Ollie into his lap. “You want to sleep at home or at Baaba’s tonight?”

“Home,” Ollie said, his voice quiet, the little boy tired as he rested against Shane’s chest.
“You smell bad.”

Shane chuckled, catching Troy’s eye. “Yeah, thanks for that. I need a shower. Let’s go find Grandpa and get them to take you home.”

Shane headed out of the locker room in his socks and base layers, pleased to see his parents heading his way. He kissed and hugged Ollie goodbye, promising to kiss him goodnight when he got home before he headed back into the locker room, wanting to wash the game off his body,.

Two hours later, Shane was finally home and in bed. His body was tired but his mind wouldn’t shut off, reliving the match shot by shot. Thankfully, Ollie was asleep down the hall in his own room so Shane reached for his phone, scrolling through the notifications that had come through over the past few hours.

Nestled in amongst the texts from Shane’s friends and family was a message he’d been hoping for. Shane had been surprised when, a week after returning from California, he’d received a text message from Ilya, asking how he was. It was like a floodgate had opened because they were now texting regularly, chatting about everything and anything most days. Shane enjoyed it more than he wanted to admit, and he smiled reading Ilya’s latest message.

Shane smiled, waiting patiently at the dots on the screen told him Ilya was typing something.

Truthfully, Shane was now following the Hammerheads’ schedule as much as his own, and he knew that they weren’t due to play for the next two days. He wondered where Ilya was right now, if he was out somewhere in California, what he was up to. A glance at the clock told Shane it was almost midnight in Ottawa, which meant it was around nine in Anaheim, where Ilya lived.

He jumped when his phone rang out, the sound loud in the quiet of Shane’s bedroom. He saw it was a call from Ilya, and he swallowed before he answered the call, his heart starting to beat fast as he spoke.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is me. Thought this is easier than texting, yes?”

“I guess,” Shane agreed, settling down against the pillows. “You know… we never did this before.”

“Talk?”

“Yeah. I mean, on the phone.”

There was silence for a few seconds. “You are right, we did not. I guess a lot has changed since then.”

“It really has. So you were watching?”

“Is not a surprise, Shane, I am hockey coach. Is literally my job to watch games.”

“Yeah, if the teams are in your division. Ottawa isn’t.”

“Alright, maybe I watch to support my friend. Would you prefer I did not?”

“No! I didn’t mean that… sorry. Shit… you make me nervous.” He cringed at the admission, wishing that Ilya hadn’t heard it, but of course he had.

“No need to be. Is just me. Talk to me about the game.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything. What you like… what you don’t like. What you change…”

Hockey was something Shane could talk about easily. He ran through the game in as much detail as he could remember, Ilya interrupting every now and then to ask questions, thoughtful and insightful ones that made Shane pause, thinking before he answered. Ilya spoke more technically about the game than he expected, but he supposed that was down to his job, to the fact Ilya constantly watched and analysed the technical aspects of the game.

“You still enjoy it?” Ilya asked when they were done speaking about the game, Shane yawning into the microphone. “Sorry, I should let you sleep-”

“No, don’t. It’s nice, talking to you I mean. And yeah, I still love playing hockey. If I’m honest, I don’t think there’s anything I could do more than I love hockey.”

“I have never heard anyone as obsessed with it as you,” Ilya said with a soft laugh, nothing but kindness in his voice. Shane yawned again, and he tried to disguise it with the back of his hand but he apparently failed. “Shane, you are exhausted. You need to sleep.”

“I-”

“I’ll call you again. Maybe after my game?”

“I’d like that,” Shane whispered, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Thank you for calling. It was really nice to talk to you.”

“I think so too. Speak to you soon. Goodnight, Shane.”

“Goodnight, Ilya,” he murmured, finally ending the call and turning over, the room going dark as his phone screen dimmed. Shane fell asleep with the memories of a Russian voice in his ear, and the smallest of smiles on his face.

Chapter End Notes

Next up...

Troy makes an educated guess, and Shane and Ilya make plans... 😉

Chapter 6

Chapter Summary

Facetimes and birthday party plans

Old connection, new revelation

Some memories can’t be ignored

Chapter Notes

Another chapter, eek! Finally, we're getting to the good stuff...

Hope you enjoy this little installment of Shane, Ollie and Illy. It's tagged 'slow burn' for a reason, but I love how much everyone is enjoying this, and anticipating what is to come.

Thank you as always for the comments, they are so wonderful and I am beyond grateful. Do let me know your thoughts on this one in the comments!x

Two weeks later

“Really?” Shane asked, grinning at the phone, Ilya’s face filling his phone screen. “When do you land?”

“Next Thursday,” Ilya said, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head as he stepped inside his house. “I will be in Ottawa for few days. We could get dinner?”

“Wow, yeah, I’d love that,” Shane grinned, goosebumps springing up all over his body at the prospect of seeing Ilya again in the flesh in just a week’s time. “This is crazy… we haven’t seen or spoken to each other in, like, ten years, and now we’ve had lunch, we talk and text each other pretty much every day…”

“I guess you cannot fight true friendship, Hollander.” Ilya laid down on what looked like a long couch, and Shane idly wondered what the rest of Ilya’s house looked like. “You have plans this week?”

Shane nodded, looking out through the open doors at his son happily playing in the garden with his toy cars, leaving Shane free to talk to Ilya. “I’m hosting Luca Haas’ birthday party on Saturday night. The team are all coming over here.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to go out? Find nice club, let them host?”

“Yes, but Ollie loves Luca. He wanted to come, so we decided just to get everybody together here, grill some burgers, play some games… lame, I know.”

Ilya frowned at that, shaking his head. “Uh, no. Sounds very fun.”

“It will be, I hope. There’s a lot to do, but- what?” Ilya was giving him a smirk and Shane smiled in spite of himself, trying to work out what was going through his friend’s head. “Stop smirking, Ilya. Why are you laughing at me?”

“You have list, yes?”

“A list?”

“For the party. Of jobs, things to do.”

Shane blushed, looking away for a second before he schooled his face. “What makes you think that?”

“You think I do not know you, Shane? Please.”

Shane blushed at the easy way Ilya had used his first name and reached out to the side, grabbing the small notepad he’d been writing on before Ilya had called. He held it up to the camera, and laughed as Ilya burst into loud laughter, clapping his hand down on his leg. “Oh, fuck off! I have to plan and make sure this party isn’t a shit show!”

“Okay, if you say so,” Ilya said kindly, giving Shane a wink. “Grilling burgers does not need list, though. I can send instructions if you are unfamiliar.”

“I’m pretty sure I can grill a burger, but thank you so much. What do you think of- hang on a sec-”

“Daddy, do you wanna play?”

Shane angled the screen of his phone away, turning his attention to his son who was standing by his side, peering curiously at the phone before he looked back at Shane. “Let me just finish up with my call and I’ll be out, okay?”

“‘Kay.” Ollie turned, running away, but just as Shane lifted his phone up again, Ollie came back quietly, his little face sneaking into the corner of the screen before Shane could stop him. “Who’s that?”

Ilya was just staring back at the screen, and Shane looked at Ollie then back at Ilya. “Uh, remember my friend Ilya that we saw on the TV playing hockey with Daddy?” Shane entirely ignored how Ilya raised his eyebrows as he referred to himself as Daddy, and looked at his son.

“Your friend far away.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Do you want to say hello to him?”

Ollie froze, looking up at Shane, his little brown eyes full of curiosity. He pulled Shane closer, whispering into his ear. “Is he nice?”

“He’s really nice, I promise. Look, do you want to sit on my lap so we can say hi together?”

Ollie nodded and Shane put the phone down on the table for a second, pulling Ollie into his lap before he picked up the phone again, his and Ollie’s faces cheek to cheek as they both smiled at Ilya.

“Can you say hi?”

“Hello, Ollie, it is nice to meet you,” Ilya said with a wave, and Shane just rolled his eyes, unable to stop himself from smiling at the mistake.

“Well, I was talking to Ollie, but good job, Ilya. Ollie, say hi?”

“Hi Illy,” Ollie said, giving a little wave to the face on his dad’s phone screen. “Are you my daddy’s friend?”

“I am. And you must be Ollie. You look so much like your dad.”

Ollie nodded seriously, having heard that comment a lot in his short life. “Yes. He is my daddy. Do you have a daddy?”

Shane froze, about to redirect the conversation when Ilya answered.

“I do, but he is in heaven now. What is that in your hand?”

Ollie looked down at the car in his hand. He moved it so that it was in front of the camera, probably too blurry to see properly but Ilya didn’t seem to mind. “A Ford truck. It is blue, my almost favourite colour. Do you like cars?”

“I do. I have a few cars at my house. Maybe I can show you next time I call your daddy.” Ilya's eyebrow raised and he smirked at that last word, and Shane kept a straight face, unwilling to give Ilya any hint he was affected by it.

Ollie’s eyes widened and he turned to Shane, a little hand on his cheek pulling Shane’s face around until he was looking at him. “Daddy, Illy likes cars! He said he’d show me!”

“I heard, Ol,” Shane grinned, eyes flitting to Ilya then back at his son. “We should let Ilya go and get on, can you say bye?”

“Bye, Illy! I will call you soon to see your cars, okay?”

“Yes, okay, bye bye Ollie. It was nice to talk to you.” Ilya waved and Ollie wriggled off Shane’s lap, dashing outside before Shane could say another word. Ilya sighed, biting his lower lip. “Fuck, Shane…”

“What?”

“He is amazing. And he calls me Illy…”

“I know, at least it’s not Lily again. He called you that once and I just about died holding in my laugh,” Shane chuckled.

“What? No, Shane, you’re kidding?”

“No. I guess that’s what he heard when I said Ilya, but he was tired when we had that conversation. Guess our old nicknames weren’t that creative.”

“Well, because you pronounce it wrong, ill-ee-uh you say,” Ilya said with a mischievous glint in his eye, “should be like il-ya.”

“Are you serious? You let me say it wrong this whole time?”

“Is cute when you say.”

Shane blushed and instead of replying, moved to get up and head outside. He flipped the camera so that Ilya could see Ollie on the grass, meticulously lining up his toy cars by colour. “Well, he’s the best, he really is. And I tried to get him to say Ilya, I really did, but he can’t for whatever reason. Plus, I kinda think Illy is cute.”

“It is, I love it,” Ilya replied with a huge grin, the one that Shane really did love to see on Ilya's face, the one that made him look lighter... happy. “I’m going to let you go, it looks like you are needed to be parking attendant.”

“Looks like it. I’ll book a restaurant for next Friday night, does that work for you?”

“I only have meetings in day time, so whenever you can be free.”

“Cool. Well, I’ll get it sorted out. Speak soon, Ilya.”

“Bye, Shane.” Ilya disconnected the call and Shane pushed his phone into his pocket, joining Ollie on the grass, crossing his legs.

“What are we playing?”

“Parking lots,” Ollie said as he rummaged in his box for more red cars. Shane smiled to himself that maybe Ilya wasn’t too far off when he said he was needed to be a parking attendant. “You wanna play, Daddy?”

“I’d love to. What would you like me to do?”

Ollie looked down at the lines of cars he’d already made. “Do green cars, please. Next to the blue, like a rainbow.”

“Will do.”

“No, Daddy, in a line, neatly. See?”

Shane covered his smile with a rub of his nose, never surprised when Ollie revealed just how much like his father he truly was.

“Sorry. Is that better?”

“Good boy, Daddy. Good listening. You can do yellow next.”

******

“Doorbell, Daddy, can I get it?”

“You’re four, so no. I’ll come with you.”

Shane followed Ollie down the hallway and looked through the peephole, double checking who was on the other side of the door before he stood back, nodding to tell Ollie he could open the door.

“Bood! Hi, you come to play with me?”

“Uh, yeah but also for the party,” Bood said, reaching down and picking up Ollie as he stepped inside. Shane grabbed the bags from his hands and made his way to the kitchen, listening to Bood and Ollie chatting away as he laid everything out on the kitchen table. He’d got too much food and drink, but Shane would always rather be over prepared than under prepared. “Door again, Cap, I’ll get it with Ollie.”

“Thanks,” Shane shouted, and paused, listening to Ollie welcome more Centaurs to his home. This time, little feet came thundering through and tugged on the hem of Shane’s t-shirt to get his attention. “What’s up?”

“Harris and Troy is here, and Wyatt. Can I take them to my room and show them my hockey stuff?”

“If they want to go with you-”

“We do!” came a chorus of voices, so Shane chuckled, nodding before Ollie ran back to his guests, no doubt dragging them upstairs by the hand. Bood came through to the kitchen and sat down on a stool, whistling at the spread in front of him.

“Jeez, Cap, I know hockey players have a reputation for eating a lot but… wow.”

“I know it’s a lot. I just… I wanted to make sure we have enough,” Shane laughed, shrugging off his embarrassment. “Help yourself to whatever. Do you know if Haas is on his way?”

“Yeah, I think so. Dyksy is on his way and he’s picking up Nicky and Dilly on the way. I’m not sure he’ll be here that long, he said Cait hasn’t been too well lately. He just wants to show his face for Haasy.”

“I get that. Let me just get the door, I’ll be right back.”

The final wave of guests arrived half an hour later, and everyone had already spilled out in the garden, music playing quietly from the speaker Dykstra had brought with him. Shane didn’t have much in the way of music, but Dykstra assured him that his Spotify account was all they needed, the rest of the Cens protesting loudly but none of them attempted to jump in and play DJ.

Ollie was holding court in the middle of the garden, with Harris and Troy playing with his toy cars and garage. Bood was on the grill flipping burgers and hot dogs, while Shane was trying to be a good host and ensuring that everyone had drinks, even though they were all adults who could help themselves whenever they wanted something.

As he refilled the bowl of chips, Shane’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out, unlocking it and reading the message.

“Who are you texting, Cap?” came a voice from behind Shane and he jumped, quickly locking his phone and folding the chip bag in his hand.

“Just a friend,” Shane answered, heading inside to collect a trash bag, wanting to tidy up as he went, not wanting to deal with it later when he was tired. “Feeling nosy today, are we Troy?”

“I prefer the word curious. Need a hand with anything?”

“If you could just put these plates outside please, everything should be ready soon.”

Shane only just sat down on the deck when he was pulled into a chair by Harris after being reassured that everyone there could look after themselves, that Shane needed to enjoy himself too.

“Daddy, come sit!” called a voice a while later, and Shane sighed, getting to his feet. He sat down on the grass next to Nicky and Dykstra, the latter of which was frowning down at his phone screen.

“Everything okay”? Shane asked quietly, not wanting to draw too much attention to Evan if he didn’t want it.

“Uh, I think I’m going to have to go, I’m sorry, Cap. Cait’s really sick, and I feel bad being here when she needs me.”

“Why are you apologising? Go be with your wife,” Shane said, his words a gentle order and Evan nodded, getting to his feet. He ruffled Ollie’s hair and said goodbye before he left, with Bood calling out to Nicky and Dilly that he could drop them home later on.

“Cap, do you want to come and make up a burger for Ollie?”

“Sure thing,” Shane called and hurried over, accepting the meat patty from his friend. He grabbed a bun and added the burger, a slice of cheese and some ketchup, leaving it open so it could cool. By the time he headed back to the gathered group on the grass, Ollie appeared to be leading the conversation.

“...my daddy has friends?”

“Yeah, of course your daddy has friends,” Hayes answered with a smile, and Shane paused, wondering where this was going. “We’re all his friends, and we’re your friends too.”

“Daddy’s friend isn’t a Cen.”

“No?” Wyatt looked up at Shane for a second before he looked back at the little boy who seemed unaware of the anxiety he was causing his dad.

Ollie shook his head, pushing one of his cars into a space before he looked up. “Daddy has friends in his phone.”

Shane had a horrible feeling he knew where this was going, so he called Ollie’s name, holding his plastic plate in the air. “Ollie, burger is just cooling, want to come and get a drink?” But apparently, Ollie was not going to be deterred.

“Who is daddy’s friend in his phone?” Harris asked, his voice light but everyone was hanging off his every word, looking at Ollie as they waited for the answer.

“Illy. I talked to him, his face was on daddy’s phone yesterday and we talked. I showed him my cars, and said blue is my almost favourite one, red is my most favorite. Illy said he has cars, and maybe he can show me next time his face is in daddy’s phone.”

“Ollie-”

“Illy has a funny voice. Did you know me and Daddy watches hockey on the telly, and it was him and Illy! They was so good, and Daddy got a goal and Uncle Hayden was on the telly too!”

Shane met Troy’s eye, and what he saw must’ve made Troy take pity on him because he leapt to his feet, hoisting Ollie up under his arms. “Right, come on, kiddo. Let’s get you a drink so you can eat that burger up, yeah? What do you want?”

“Just water please!” Ollie called as he raced up the garden after Troy, finally leaving Shane with the rest of his team alone.

“So. Illy, huh?”

Shane looked at Wyatt, blinking as he tried to work out what to say before realising that there was no harm in telling the truth now. He had nothing to hide.

“Illy is Ilya. Rozanov, but you guys probably already figured that out. I went to California for a Rolex ad and happened to bump into him. We got chatting about old times, and we’ve been texting since then.”

“Holy shit.”

“Look, it’s not a big deal-”

“Come off it, Cap, of course it is. You and Roz’s rivalry was legendary back in the day. Was he still an asshole?”

“He was never an asshole, Nicky. He was just… misunderstood. He was great, we mainly talked about hockey, his team, you guys…” Harris was giving him a strange look, but Shane chose to ignore it. “Look, don’t make this a weird thing, okay? I spoke to an old player, just because it was Rozanov doesn’t mean it was anything special. I’d do the same if I saw Scott Hunter on the street.”

“Food’s up!” Bood yelled, and Shane sighed with relief as the team got to their feet, all heading over to the grill as Bood made up a pile of burgers and hot dogs, a couple plain cheese pizzas also joined the table since that was what Haas had specifically asked for. Troy had Ollie sat at the table, a napkin tucked into the collar of his t-shirt to protect against ketchup leaks as he munched happily on his burger.

“Harris filled me in,” Troy said ominously as Shane joined his team, sinking into the chair next to Ollie, a hot dog on his own plate along with some salad. “We’ll talk later.”

Later turned out to be much later that night, when Ollie had finally given up fighting against sleep and was sound asleep upstairs in his own bed. He’d managed to persuade Bood, Luca and Troy to read him bedtime stories before Shane said he really had to get to sleep, and had told his team to wait downstairs for him and to be quiet.

Everyone had started to leave then, and Shane thanked them for coming, waving away offers to help tidy up, promising he’d be fine on his own. They’d only do it wrong anyway, so Shane preferred to do it himself. Harris left to head back for Chiron but Troy hung back, saying he’d get a Lyft back. Shane had watched as they’d kissed each other goodbye, loving how happy they seemed together.

“You want to talk about it?” Troy said a while later, the two of them stretched out on Shane’s couches, a hockey game playing quietly on the huge television on the wall.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Shane tried, but Troy wasn’t having any of it. He sighed, realising he might as well get it over with. “Ask me, then. I can see you’re dying to.”

“I just… I feel like I’m putting things together here, Shane, and I can’t tell if I’m totally off base or what.”

Shane tugged a pillow into his lap, cuddling it tightly to ground himself. Troy was the only one he’d been fully honest with about his past, how he’d realised he was gay back when he was eighteen, that there’d been someone special that Shane had had to let go to protect them both. He hadn’t revealed Ilya’s identity but he’d been honest about everything else. Now, though, it seemed that might be coming back to bite him on the ass.

“What do you think you know?”

“I saw how you blushed when Ollie started talking about Rozanov. And I can’t help but think that if you’d met Scott Hunter in California, you’d have told us about it. You kept the fact you saw Rozanov to yourself, you’re apparently calling him now…”

“I call you and Harris.”

Troy sighed, rubbing his palms over his face. “Forget it, it’s fine-”

“Shit, no, I just… I don’t know how to talk about all of this. I’ve never talked about it.”

Troy nodded, turning on his seat and curling his long legs up under himself. “I think it’s great you’re talking to Rozanov, if that makes you happy. It was sad how his career ended like it did. He left so quickly, I always thought it was a bit strange.”

Shane hadn’t been part of Ilya’s life when all of that had happened. He had no idea what was truly behind Ilya’s decision to move to California when his Boston contract had ended. It had sent shockwaves through the Eastern division, and then when he’d been forced to take medical retirement, Shane had wanted to get in contact and ask why Ilya had made those choices, but it hadn’t been his place.

“Yeah, it was surprising.”

“So.”

“I’ll ask again. What do you think you know, Troy?”

“Are you sure you want me to say?”

Shane nodded slowly, realising that he actually did want Troy to say it just so he could share it with someone else and make it seem real. “Yeah, just… just say it.”

“I think that Rozanov might be the guy from your past. The one who got away that you never got over. There’s been rumours about him being bi for years, I’ve heard them. I don’t know, maybe I’m totally wrong, that he’s just an old rival that you reconnected with… shit." Troy blinked, unable to disguise the surprise on his face. "I’m not wrong, am I.”

Wordlessly, Shane shook his head. “It was a long time ago. We were just hooking up, but it got too dangerous. For me, but especially for him. Russia was a threat, we didn’t want to risk them finding out about him, sending him back and… well, who knows what they would’ve done to him. We ended it, and we just stopped talking. It was… hard.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m confused. Seeing him again… it really was a chance meeting, I wasn't lying about that. I was in a coffee shop getting a drink and he was there. We said hi, and went out for lunch. Caught up, talked about hockey.”

“Okay. So… the calls?”

“We didn’t swap numbers. I had his old number back from when I used to- yeah. I thought I’d see if it was still the same, and it was. We texted after we had lunch, then it became phone calls. Facetimes. Ollie literally only said hi to him for the first time the other day.”

“Shit, look at you.”

“What?”

“You’ve gone all soft, Shane. You’re still gone for him, aren’t you?”

“Honestly?” Troy nodded so Shane took a breath, readying himself to tell the truth.. “Maybe. I think I always have been. But I don’t know how he feels. He hasn’t given me any indication that he wants anything except friendship from me. And I don’t think I want to risk fucking it up by pushing for something that isn’t there anymore. Then there’s Ollie…”

Troy rested his elbow on the back of the couch, propping up his cheek on his hand. “Ollie just wants you to be happy. That’s all kids ever care about. Forget hockey, forget Ollie for a moment. What do you want?”

“I want Ilya back in my life,” Shane admitted, shrugging at the admission. “Nobody ever knew me like he did. He saw past all the rivalry shit, how I was on the ice. He was easy to talk to, to spend time with. We were more alike than either of us wanted to admit.”

“You weren’t in love back then?”

“I don’t think so. But… I think I was getting there.” His voice softened, like he was admitting it for the first time even to himself. “At first I thought it was just infatuation - this gorgeous guy who was incredible in bed, showing me what sex was supposed to be like. But then he was on my mind all the time. I felt lighter around him. More like myself.”

Troy’s expression softened. “Shane…”

“He probably doesn’t feel that way. Maybe he never did.” Shane let out a quiet breath. “And that’s okay. But I still want him in my life, even just as a friend. I like talking to him again. It’s just… easy. No judgment, no expectations.” He paused, searching for the right word. “It’s just… us.”

Troy nodded, smiling gently at Shane. “Then do it. Fuck whatever anyone else thinks. You do what makes you happy, and if that’s talking to Rozanov, do it. And you don’t owe anyone anything, Shane. If you don’t want to talk about it, then don’t. It’s your life, your business.”

“Yeah, it is, but I also have a four year old who apparently likes ratting me out,” he replied, laughing for the first time in a while. “You won’t… you won’t say anything to the other guys, will you? I don’t think Ilya would want people talking about him behind his back.”

“Wow. Ilya. That's so fucking weird to hear you say it so easily like that.”

Shane blushed. “Yeah, I mean… he calls me Shane. Using last names feels like it belongs to a version of us that doesn’t exist now.” He paused, looking at Troy again. “But seriously. Please don’t say anything, even to Harris. I know that’s asking a lot-”

“He knows we talk about stuff, and he never presses me about it. You know Harris, he’s not like that. But I won’t say a word, I promise. Just… talk to me, okay? If you need to, I mean. No pressure, but I just want you to know that I’m here for you.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

They finished watching the game before Troy ordered a ride, leaving quietly with a tray full of leftovers that Shane insisted he take back with him. The dishwasher was on and everything was stacked neatly in the fridge, labelled and covered in foil for later on so Shane headed upstairs, turning off lights as he walked through the house.

He checked in on Ollie who was sound asleep, Ellie shoved in the gap between the mattress and the wall so Shane retrieved her, sitting her in the corner and out of harm's way. He kissed Ollie’s head and pulled the door closed behind him, the glowing nightlight plugged into the wall so Ollie wouldn’t get scared if he awoke during the night.

Shane got into bed and without thinking, pressed on Ilya’s contact details, quietly hoping he’d answer even though it was fairly late. He was about to give up when the call connected, and Ilya’s red cheeked, sweaty face filled the screen.

“Shane? Sorry, I just finished working out. You okay?”

“Yeah, just… wanted to say hi,” Shane said softly, smiling at the screen. “I can go if you’re busy.”

“No, is okay,” Ilya said easily, wiping at his face with a towel before he pulled his sweat soaked tank over his head, letting it drop to the floor. Shane swallowed heavily, trying to act nonchalant, like the sight of Ilya shirtless wasn’t doing anything for him. “How was party?”

Shane wriggled down under the covers, nodding happily at Ilya. “Yeah, it was really good. I think everyone enjoyed themselves.” He paused, looking back at Ilya for a moment. “I have way too much food left over, though. I made everyone take something home with them, and I’ll have to give some to my parents as well.”

“If that is only problem with party, you did well, Shane,” Ilya said, letting out a long breath as he sat down on what looked like the floor of his gym.

“Are you at home?”

“Yes. Prefer to work out by myself… I can show you if you like?”

This was the first time Ilya had offered to let Shane see any part of his house so he nodded as Ilya got to his feet. Ilya walked slowly around the room, flipping the camera so that Shane could see all of the equipment he had. It was the best, of course it was, and Shane paid as much attention as he could, slightly distracted by the shirtless Ilya that kept appearing in the mirrors around the room as Ilya gave him a tour.

“Looks like you have a nice set up.”

“I wanted to stay fit, especially with my knee. My PT comes to me, I work out here without people watching. I can use team gym too, but sometimes when I cannot sleep I come here and work out.”

“Just like all those years ago,” Shane said fondly, reflecting back on their earlier days for the first time out loud.

“Did Ollie enjoy the party?”

Something warmed inside Shane at the way Ilya so easily asked about Ollie, like he genuinely cared about the answer. “Oh, he really did. If there’s one thing he loves, it’s being around the team. The guys love him as well, they’ve practically helped me raise him. He insisted on buying Luca a present, and his little face when he gave it to him… you should’ve seen it, it was so cute.”

“What did he get?”

“Well, I gave him twenty dollars and let him choose something for himself. He loves drawing with Luca, so he got him a new colouring book, some pens, paints and a glittery pencil case that I think he secretly wanted to keep for himself.”

Ilya was smiling fondly at that, the view behind him changing as he moved around the house. “I think I would like this present, he has good taste.” Ilya was silent for a moment, and Shane allowed himself a few seconds to really look at Ilya, to see how much he resembled the man he’d been so close with all those years ago.

Truly, not a lot had changed. Ilya still had his wild curly blonde hair, currently matted down with sweat from his workout, but Shane remembered how it had felt to wrap his fingers around the curls, tug on them as Ilya sent him to new levels of pleasure. There were a few more soft wrinkles on his face, especially when he smiled but Shane loved those, wanted to see them up close, if he was honest.

Ilya’s body was as fit as it had always been; muscular and strong. He was bulkier than Shane was, his shoulders more pronounced, and Shane had always been turned on by Ilya’s strength, the way he could hold him up against a wall, and support his entire weight. He suddenly realised he was staring and quickly looked away, focusing on the artwork on the opposite side of his room to calm himself down.

“Are you looking forward to our dinner?”

“I really am. It’ll be nice to see you again. There’s a few places I thought we could go, how do you feel about-”

“You choose. Is your home, I will eat anything. I just-” Ilya cut himself off, biting his lip before he spoke again, his voice a little softer, almost uncertain, “I will just enjoy being with you.”

“Me too,” Shane whispered in reply, turning onto his side and setting his phone opposite, almost as if Ilya was lying next to him. “Ollie was so excited that he got to talk to you on the phone.”

Ilya’s face lit up with the reminder he’d spoken to Ollie, and truthfully, Shane loved that reaction. “He was so sweet, Shane, so much like you. Polite, and so fun.”

“He said you’re his new friend,” Shane admitted, watching a soft pink blush develop on Ilya’s cheeks, even though he would probably deny it later. “He told me he liked talking to you, that he likes your funny voice.”

“Funny voice, so cheeky. But he is a Hollander so… I will forgive him. And tell him he is my new friend too.”

They chatted for a little while longer about their upcoming games, where they’d be travelling before Ilya was on a plane to Ottawa. Shane stopped talking when he heard a cough coming from down the hall, but nothing came of it. He yawned, covering his mouth as he apologised.

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m tired. It’s been a long day, I find it really stressful hosting parties…”

“Is okay. I should let you sleep. We will talk again before I come to Ottawa, yes?”

“Yes, definitely. And… thank you, for talking to me.”

Ilya shrugged, smiling gently at him, looking right into the lens like he was staring into Shane’s eyes. “I like it, Shane. Goodnight. Sleep well.”

“You too, Ilya.”

He ended the call and sighed, the screen dimming and plunging him into darkness. Ilya’s half naked body was imprinted on the back of Shane’s eyelids, and he felt guilty as his body started to respond, like it was something he shouldn’t be allowed to have anymore. Ilya’s body was exactly Shane’s type, and his hand snaked down, inside his boxers as his eyes fluttered closed, accessing the memories he’d kept buried for so long.

Ilya kissing him, pushing him up against the wall as he ground his thigh into Shane, provoking a reaction out of him. Ilya whispering for Shane to get on his knees, gasping as Shane took him into his mouth, working over him until Ilya hauled him up, carrying him over to the bed before he devoured him. Ilya on his knees for Shane in the shower, showing him just how he liked it, how good it felt to let go and surrender your pleasure to someone else.

Shane came with a gasp of Ilya’s name on his lips, coating his hand and the inside of his boxers. He lay panting until he caught his breath, wincing as he pulled his hand out. He reached for a tissue and wiped himself off as best he could before he stood up, feeling chilly in the cold air of his room. He couldn’t bear the thought of going to bed in such a mess so stripped off, taking a quick and quiet shower in his ensuite.

He finally got back into bed, fresh and clean and hit the screen of his phone to check the time. He was surprised to see a new message from Ilya and opened it, trying and failing to suppress the smile it evoked.

Shane laughed and sent a heart emoji, unable to think of anything that would show the same sentiment. Ilya had been back in his life for just a few weeks, and already Shane’s resolve to keep him at arms length was crumbling. He wasn’t sure exactly what that said about him, or about Ilya. But maybe everybody deserved a second chance at happiness…

Chapter End Notes

More on Sunday and...

Shane and Ilya have dinner and then partake in something they really used to enjoy...

Chapter 7

Chapter Summary

I want a Ferrari

Embarrassing but not embarrassed

Remind me how social media works.

Chapter Notes

FInally... we're starting to get somewhere! I really hope you enjoy this one because I truly loved reading this, and the build up of them realising how happy they are when they spend time with each other.

Thank you as always for the lovely comments. I'm so happy people love Ollie, Shane and Ilya as much as I do. Please do let me know what you think about this one in the comments!

 

A little visual for you for their dinner outfits is here: Shane and Ilya's outfits

“Daddy. Daddy. Daddy, why you not listening to me?!”

Shane sighed, pushing down his frustration. Ollie had been pushing his buttons all day, and he felt about ready to snap. He wasn’t sure whether it was just because he was so nervous about the dinner with Ilya later in the day or what, but he needed just five minutes to himself. He needed to regulate, and Ollie wasn’t giving him that right now. He was only four and didn’t always understand Shane’s needs.

“I am, just…” Shane reached for the timer on the side, setting it to two minutes. “When this beeps, come back and I’ll be ready to talk, okay? I just need a couple of minutes to think about something.”

Ollie frowned before he surged forward, wrapping his arms around Shane’s waist before he sang ‘okay, Daddy!’ and happily skipped away, back to his toys.

Shane leaned forward and rested his head on his folded arms, taking some deep breaths. Most of the time, Shane felt in control of his emotions, and of himself. Even when the stress of hockey was getting to him, he was able to find an outlet, whether that was the gym, or yoga, or going on a hike when he’d dropped Ollie off with his parents.

That hadn’t been an option today, though. He’d only returned from Buffalo the day before after playing an away game that the Cens had won 2-1, and then Yuna and David had gone for a trip of their own few days away to celebrate their anniversary. Shane didn’t begrudge them for it, not in any way, but the timing could’ve been better.

The timer beeped in the background, and as expected, Ollie rushed back into the room, chattering away. Shane forced himself to sit upright and gave himself a quick shake, determined to give his son the attention he deserved.

“Daddy, come see what I made with my ‘netic sand.”

“Kinetic sand,” Shane gently corrected, but Ollie ignored him, grabbing his fingers and dragging Shane outside. Shane found the stuff to be a sensory nightmare so he always set Ollie up with it outside on the little plastic table and chair he had. Ollie had used some of the moulds Bood and Cassie had got him for Christmas last year to make some small turrets, parking some of his toy cars around like a rather posh parking area.

“Wow, that looks so cool. Can you tell me about it?”

“So this is the castle, where the kings live. They got nice cars, see? A Porsche, and a Toyota, and a Ferrari. So the cars sit outside the castle, and then the kings can go driving whenever they want!”

“Love that. I wish I had a castle and a Ferrari." Shane was lying, because he couldn’t think of anything worse than owning a car that went at breakneck speeds. He’d stick with his safe but boring LandRover, thank you very much.

“Can I send Illy a picture?”

“You… want to send Ilya a photo? Of your sand?”

“No, of my castle!” Ollie laughed, and Shane shrugged, unlocking his phone and handing it to Ollie. He smiled to himself as Ollie lined up the photo, little tongue poking out between his lips as he concentrated on the task in hand before he passed it back, apparently satisfied. “‘Kay, can we send to Illy?”

Shane nodded and opened a message, attaching the photo before he turned back to Ollie. “What would you like to say?”

“Um. To Illy, I made a castle and these are the King’s cars. I like the Toyota. Which one is the best? From Ollie.”

Shane tapped out those words exactly and sent it, Ollie grinning wildly when he heard the familiar whoosh indicating the message was gone. They sat outside and Shane watched as Ollie demolished the castles, quickly remoulding them into various other things. After a while, his phone pinged and Shane chuckled, calling Ollie over.

“Hey, you have a message on my phone. Want me to read it?” Ollie nodded, so Shane pulled him closer, following the words with his finger so Ollie could read with him. Yuna had been teaching him for a few months now, and Shane was impressed by how quickly he seemed to be picking it up. “It says ‘to Ollie. That is a really cool castle, I would like to live there. I like the Ferrari best. I have a red Ferrari just like that. One day I will show you. From Illy. P.S. The Toyota is cool too.’”

“He has a Ferrari?! Daddy, Illy is so cool! Why do we not have a Ferrari?”

“I don’t think your car seat will fit in a Ferrari, Ol. Maybe if you work really hard and get a good job when you’re a grown up, you can get your own Ferrari.”

“Does Illy work hard and have a good job?”

“He does. He does hockey, like me, remember? He doesn’t play, but he’s a coach.”

“For what team? The Metros?”

Shane almost snorted at the thought, but shook his head. “Uh, no, not the Metros. I’m not sure Uncle Hayden would be very happy with that. He coaches the-”

“The Raiders? The Guardians? Oh! The Admirals!”

Shane was seriously impressed by Ollie’s hockey knowledge, but he knew his son only really knew the teams in Shane’s own division, so he stepped in. “No, not in Daddy’s division. Illy- Ilya lives in California, in America. His team are the Anaheim Hammerheads.”

“Hammerhead? Like the shark? I like hammerhead sharks!”

“Yes, like the shark, and I know you do.” He glanced at his watch, surprised by the time. “I need to go and get ready. Can you come inside if I’m upstairs, please?”

Ollie looked up at him, big brown eyes so much like Shane’s staring back at him. “Can I watch Bluey on your bed?”

“Sure.”

They headed inside, and Shane set Ollie up on the iPad, not feeling too guilty since they’d played outside together practically all day. Shane was unsettled, out of sorts, and he was pretty sure it was because Ilya was in the same town for the first time since California. He’d spent yesterday at his Coaching Clinic, but only had a morning session today, which he’d text Shane throughout, telling him how bored he was.

The restaurant he’d chosen wasn’t fancy, but it required that Shane dress up maybe a little more than he usually would for a dinner with a friend. The menu was good, and Shane had already decided what he was going to eat, trying to minimise any stress ahead of time. The outfit he’d chosen was hanging in his walk-in closet, and he looked at it for a moment, suddenly hoping it wasn’t too dressy. It was an outfit he’d worn last year for the MLH awards, thinking he looked ridiculous but the praise he’d received from his teammates and the hockey press had made him think that maybe he did look good after all.

While Bluey played in the background, Shane showered, shaved and did his hair before he started to get dressed. The white Boss shirt had been fitted to him like a glove, and Shane carefully did up each button, then put the cufflinks on at his wrists. The grey wool trousers were next, and Shane carefully tucked in the shirt, trying to replicate the way his Mom had helped him to look last year. The final touch was a long gold necklace, one that Shane hadn’t been sure about at all, but had liked in the photos he’d seen of himself.

When he was done, he spritzed himself with cologne and let out a sigh, smoothing the shirt over his flat stomach. He felt like he looked good, but he was also worried it was too much, that Ilya would think he was trying too hard.

“Daddy, you look ‘mazing,” came a little voice from behind him, and Shane turned around, smiling at his son, who was cuddling Ellie. “Your necklace is pretty.”

“Thank you, Ol. I think it’s pretty, too.”

“Will Illy wear a necklace?”

Shane chuckled, thinking about the necklace that Ilya always wore, that he’d been wearing that morning in the cafe, and in every facetime they’d shared since. “He has a special necklace from his mom. He wears it every day.”

“We goin’ to Troy’s house soon? He said he’s making mac and cheese for my dinner.” Ollie turned and ran back to Shane’s bed, jumping on and crossing his legs as he watched the screen again. “Can I finish Bluey first?”

“Sure, I’ll let Troy know we’ll be on our way soon.”

The drive over to Troy and Harris’ farm didn’t take long, and Shane slowed down as he went up the bumpy driveway, Ollie happily chatting away in the back seat about hockey, his new friend Max at hockey class, and anything else he could think about. Shane felt like he was almost running a bit late when he finally pulled up outside the door.

Shane got Ollie out of the car and went up to the door, ringing the bell. Chiron barked loudly and then the door opened, Harris grinning at the two of them.

“Hollanders! Welcome, come on in.”

“I really can’t stay,” Shane admitted, handing over Ollie’s bags and his night things, just in case the dinner ran later than he planned and Ollie had to sleep over. “Would you mind if I head off? No, Chiron, down.”

“Oh my god, Chiron, that’s going to cost me your entire food bill for the year if you ruin those pants,” Harris chuckled, pulling Chiron off and yelling for Troy to come and get him. “You look good, Shane.”

“Thanks. I just… I hope it’s not too much.”

Troy wolf-whistled as he walked towards the three of them, catching Ollie as he ran at him, picking him up easily. “Dressed to impress, hmm?”

“What’s impress?”

“Uh, it means dressing so someone can tell you that you look nice,” Troy replied, making a face at Shane at his poor attempt at explaining it. “And your Daddy looks very nice.”

“Yeah. He is going to have salad with Illy.”

“Salad with Illy, hmm?” Troy said, smirking at Harris before they looked over at Shane, raising their eyebrows. “Well. Enjoy your… salad, Hollzy.”

Ollie turned his head to see what Chiron was up to so Shane quickly showed him the middle finger, ignoring Troy and Harris’ chorus of laughter. He leaned in, kissing Ollie before he said goodbye, dashing off and leaving a happy Ollie in very safe hands. The traffic in Ottawa wasn’t too heavy so he made it in time to the restaurant, parking up and getting out of the car.

He walked inside and greeted the maitre’d, slipping his finger between the collar of his shirt and his neck, trying to give himself a little breathing room.

“Hi, uh, Shane Hollander, I have a table booked. Is my guest here yet?”

“Not yet, Sir. Let me show you to your table, unless you’d prefer to wait?”

“I’ll wait at my table, thanks.”

Shane weaved through the tables and sat down, ignoring the menu set in front of him for now. He allowed his eyes to wander around the room, wondering if the people around him were couples, or business dinners, maybe friends like he and Ilya. Shane tapped his feet nervously on the floor, drumming his fingers on the table until finally, he saw him.

Ilya looked… there was no other word for it except for glorious. He was wearing a cream suit, with what looked like a striped flowy shirt wrapped around his body. His curls were perfectly tamed for a change, and Shane watched as everyone turned, practically gawping as Ilya walked through the room, his presence commanding attention.

But it was when he saw Shane that his expression changed completely. He went from looking serious, his cheekbones hollow and eyes set to entirely relaxed, a smile erupting when he caught sight of Shane. Shane hurried to stand and let out a quick breath as Ilya joined him, pressing his lips together before he smiled again. Shane couldn’t help giving him a quick hug.

“You look pretty,” Ilya said, and Shane laughed, recalling how Ilya had said that on the ice to him years ago, trying to express interest, not that Shane had caught on. “This your new look, Hollander?”

“Um-”

“I am just joking. You look great,” he said as they sat down, tucking their chairs into the table. “I like this look on you.”

“You look amazing, too. Oh, before I forget.” Shane reached into his pocket, pulling out the small, folded piece of paper and handing over the table. “Ollie won’t forgive me if I don’t give this to you tonight.”

Ilya grinned and took it, unfolding it carefully, laying the picture out on the table. “Oh, is Ferrari, yes?”

Shane laughed “At least you got it right, he looked like he wanted to kill me when I thought it was a Toyota. He drew it this morning, and told me to make sure I give it to Illy.” The waiter caught Shane’s eye and started to head over. “Did you want to share a bottle of wine? I can only have a couple of glasses since we’re playing this weekend.”

“Sure, is fine,” Ilya agreed easily, opening his own menu. Shane ordered the wine and the conversation quickly turned to work, Ilya telling Shane about everything he’d been doing at his coaching clinic. It didn’t sound especially thrilling, not the way Ilya told it anyway, but Shane still listened intently, asking insightful questions to show he was interested. By the time their meals had arrived, everything felt much more relaxed between them.

“So you play Detroit on Sunday? Are they good?”

Shane shrugged, eating his mouthful before he answered Ilya. “They have a few good players, but they’ve struggled lately. They traded their left wing but it wasn’t the best move. Their rookies are good, but it’ll be a while before they gel with the team and start seeing results.”

“So you can beat them?”

“Of course we can beat them.” Shane wasn’t gloating, he was just being honest, factual. They had still yet to lose a game this season, and Shane hoped he could continue the winning streak. “Haas has been playing so well this season, and Hayes is just an animal in goal. Not a lot seems to get past him these days. And Bood and Troy are playing strong- what?”

Ilya shrugged, putting down his fork. “I like listening to you talk about hockey. You are good captain. Know your team well.”

“I’d say it’s my job, but it’s more than that. I love hockey, more than just about anything except for Ollie. And I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am at the Cens.”

“You made them good, Hollander. All down to you.”

“Not really. They just needed some good leadership. They had the skills, just needed to work out how to use them as a team. Now they’re unstoppable. Two Stanley Cups proves that, I think. What about your team, the Hammerheads?”

“They are good. Could be better. Some of them are very good, but… do not have hunger. In Raiders, I wanted it, so bad. All I could think of was lifting Stanley Cup for me, for mama. I do not get this from them.”

“That must be frustrating.”

“Can be. But I do my best. Make sure I do research on opponents, find weaknesses, help team use them to win. May not make playoffs yet but will hopefully win division.”

“If anyone can get them there, it’s you.” They finished up their meals and Shane sat back, glad he’d chosen a meal that didn’t leave him feeling too bloated. “You want to hear something embarrassing?”

Ilya flashed him a wicked grin. “Always, Hollander.”

“So at the party, in front of my entire team, Ollie thought it would be a good idea to announce that daddy has been talking to his new friend Illy on the phone.”

“Oh. What did you say?”

“The truth,” Shane shrugged, sipping his wine and smiling as Ilya refilled it for him. “That we met again in California, that we had lunch together, caught up on old times.”

“Right.”

There was an obvious shift in Ilya’s demeanour then, and Shane frowned, trying to think about where he had gone wrong. “Hey, I’m sorry, did I say something to upset you?”

“No, Hollander. Am fine.”

“You’re not. Be honest with me, please?”

“Just…” Ilya looked down at his hands, mumbling like he didn’t want Shane to hear his words. “Are you embarrassed of me?”

“Of you?” Ilya nodded, and the sight almost broke Shane’s heart. He wanted to wrap his arms around Ilya and hold him tight, for the other man to realise that embarrassment was the last emotion Shane would ever associate with him. “Ilya, no. Never. I would never be embarrassed of you. I wasn’t all those years ago, and I’m certainly not now, the situation was embarrassing but not because of you.” Ilya looked up, letting out a sigh that told Shane he didn’t entirely believe him. “I mean it, Ilya. If I was embarrassed to be seen with you, I wouldn’t have brought you here, I wouldn’t be sitting and having dinner with you. I’m so proud to be your friend.”

Ilya was playing with his necklace with his right hand, so Shane reached over the table, resting his hand on top of Ilya’s left, wrapping his fingers gently around Ilya’s hand. They both looked at their joined hands for a few seconds, finally looking up at each other again.

“Ilya, I’m really glad that I saw you again in that cafe.”

“I am glad you came over to me, Shane. I may not have been so brave.” Slowly, Ilya turned his hand over, the two now palm to palm as Ilya squeezed Shane’s hand briefly before he let go, reaching for his wine glass.

They only broke their stare when a voice disturbed them, causing both men to look over.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt your meal,” said the voice, a young woman smiling at them both. “But I couldn’t not say hi, not to Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov. You guys are like my favourite hockey players of all time.”

“That is kind, thank you,” Ilya said immediately, much better at this sort of fan interaction than Shane had ever been. “You were Raiders fan?”

“God, no. Metros all the way,” the woman said, and Shane covered his smile with his hand, loving how annoyed Ilya looked by his dismissal of his old team. “Would you mind taking a picture of me with the Captain?”

Ilya couldn’t help but smile at that, nodding and accepting her phone. Shane stood up and pulled the woman into his side, grinning at the camera as Ilya took several snaps. He tried to hand it back and she took it, only to interrupt him again.

“Uh, can we take one of all of us? My boyfriend is going to kick himself for not coming to dinner tonight…”

They all leaned in, Ilya’s cheek pressed against Shane’s as they smiled at the camera. She thanked them both then finally left them alone, the pair sitting back down at their table.

“Does that happen a lot here?”

“Not too much,” Shane admitted, shrugging it off. “I think people are used to seeing me here, so they’re good, especially if I’m with Ollie. Everyone knows I don’t want his face online, so they’re usually really respectful. And the ones who aren’t are pulled up by the nice ones, so I’ve been really lucky.”

“Is not all luck. You show fans respect, they show it to you. Works both ways. You make that happen, Shane.”

They refused the dessert menu, Shane feeling far too full to contemplate eating anything else. He was fairly certain Ilya wanted to order but decided not to, the pair chatting as they finished their drinks, Shane letting Ilya finish the wine since he didn’t have to drive home.

“Where is Ollie tonight?” Ilya asked as they headed out, the chill of the Ottawan weather making him feel cold. Shane regretted not wearing a jacket, but Ilya must have noticed because he pulled his off his own body and draped it around Shane’s shoulders, smiling softly as Shane tugged the two sides closer around him.

“He’s with Troy and Harris. Harris is Troy’s husband, they’ve pretty much been around since Ollie was born. He loves them both, I think he thinks Troy is his best friend as well as mine. He also loves their dog, so he takes any chance he can get to go and stay over with them.”

“Ah, I thought maybe I meet him after dinner.”

Shane paused, turning the words over carefully before saying them aloud, wanting to make sure Ilya heard what he meant instead of what it might sound like.

“I just… in the best way, I’m not ready to introduce you guys properly yet. I—” He stopped when he saw hurt flicker across Ilya’s face. “He’s so young, Ilya. He gets attached to people too fast, and—”

“Is okay, Shane. I understand.”

“I just want you to know it’s not because I don’t want you two to meet.” Shane glanced down at his hands, then back up at him. His voice came quieter this time. “It’s because I don’t think we’d be able to let you go again if he met you.”

For a second, Ilya didn’t say anything. Shane gave a small, uneasy shrug, like he’d already said too much. “He’d adore you,” he admitted. “And honestly… that’d be the problem.”

Ilya’s expression softened immediately. The sting in his chest eased into something warmer, heavier. “Because then he would ask for me after?”

“Every day,” Shane said with a breath of a laugh. “And I wouldn’t have a good answer for him if…” He trailed off, jaw tightening. “If this is temporary.”

“I am sure this is not… temporary. But is okay. We wait… I wait,” Ilya agreed easily, giving Shane a soft smile. He reached for and grabbed Shane’s hand with his own, his thumb brushing over Shane’s knuckles. “Until you feel sure. Am not going anywhere, Hollander.”

Shane squeezed his hand once in return, holding on longer than he probably meant to. “Thank you,” he whispered, more than grateful Ilya was being so accepting of what Shane had just said.

Ilya finally pulled his hand back, before he continued, thankfully moving the conversation along a little. “I thought if he is not with you, Ollie would be with your parents.”

“Usually, yeah, but tonight they’re celebrating their anniversary. Troy offered to look after Ollie when I told him about tonight.”

“And… what did you say?”

“That we were having dinner?” Shane replied, a little confused by the question.

“With me?”

Shane sighed, wishing Ilya understood that he was never going to be embarrassed of seeing Ilya. “Yes, Ilya, with you. I told Troy that you’re here for a coaching event, that we decided to catch up while you’re here.”

“Okay.” They walked quietly until they arrived at Shane’s car. “I can get a car back to my hotel if you do not-”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I actually, uh, had an idea.”

“Oh?”

Shane unlocked the car and they got in, clicking their seatbelts in place. “You trust me?” He looked across to Ilya, swallowing as his blue eyes swept over Shane’s face before he nodded slowly.

“I have always trusted you, Shane,”

Shane swallowed heavily, unable to articulate just how much Ilya’s words meant to him. “Um, okay. Good. I’m glad.”

They headed across Ottawa in a direction very familiar to Shane, and he pulled into the parking lot half an hour later, the entire lot empty around them. Ilya peered out of the window into the darkness, then over his shoulder before he looked at Shane.

“You will murder me.”

“Mm, not tonight,” Shane teased, winking at Ilya. “Get out, come on.”

He knew Ilya had already realised where they were, and they walked in quietly, Shane letting Ilya take it all in. Shane wasn’t sure how long it had been since Ilya had last been at the Centaurs’ rink, but he’d been thinking about this for too long, deciding to take the chance while he could.

He’d asked Coach if he minded him accessing the rink out of hours, and he pulled the keys from his pocket, unlocking it. The building was dark inside, but Shane knew every inch of the building, reaching out and flicking on the lightswitches as they walked through. They headed together towards the rink, and Ilya paused outside the trophy cabinet, looking at the Presentation Cup on display, along with a few of Shane’s own awards he’d chosen to keep here.

“I have not seen this in too long,” he marvelled, looking at Shane and then back at the cup. He pointed to the little engraved plaques, smiling at the Centaurs names over the last few. “Look at that. You did that, Shane.”

“And those ones,” Shane laughed, pointing at the badges with the Metros names on them. “Don’t diminish my achievements, Rozanov.”

“I could never.”

Eventually, Ilya stepped back and Shane led the way, pausing at the door to the locker room. Ilya raised his eyebrows following Shane inside, the pair hovering outside his stall. Ilya moved closer, looking at the collection of photos Shane had stuck inside, most of them of Ollie, a few with his parents too, and one of he and Hayden with all of their children wrapped around them.

“Is nice, seeing so many family pictures,” Ilya said as Shane grabbed the bag he left there, rummaging around. “Shane, what are you doing?”

Shane reached behind him, holding up the skates in Ilya’s size that he’d put there the other day when he’d been to practice after finding out about their dinner. “I thought, if you wanted to, that we could maybe… skate together?”

“You want me to skate with you?”

“Like old times,” Shane grinned, his face falling when he realised. “Oh shit, your knee. I’m so sorry, this was a stupid id-”

“No. Is not stupid, I love it. I can skate, Shane, just not like I used to, not all the time. I would love to skate with you but…” he gestured down to his pristine suit, “I’m not sure I am dressed for this.”

“Don’t worry, I thought of that. I have something you could wear, if you don’t mind wearing my clothes.”

He reached into the rucksack on the floor and grabbed a pair of sweats, along with a hoodie, holding them out for Ilya. Ilya looked down and took it, pointing at the Cens logo with open eyes.

“Really, Hollander? You want me to be traitor?”

“That’s a little dramatic,” Shane laughed, grabbing his own change of clothes and setting them on the bench next to him. “It’s only me here, I’m not going to tell anyone you’re wearing Cens gear, I promise.”

Ilya sighed, but he couldn’t hide the smile on his lips. “Fine.”

Shane carefully lifted off the necklace he’d been wearing and tucked it into the pocket of his bag before he unbuttoned his shirt, the buttons small but fiddly. He’d just pulled off the fabric when he looked up at Ilya and… well, that was a mistake. Ilya had already taken off his jacket and shirt, and was working on removing the belt from his pants. Shane swallowed as he kept watching as Ilya pushed the trousers down, stepping carefully out of them before he folded them, setting them down in Troy’s stall.

Ilya straightened up and looked over, clocking that Shane was watching him, and a smirk crossed his features. He stood up, pushing his shoulders back and exposing his body to Shane, hands on his hips, radiating confidence.

“You are staring, Hollander.”

“No, I was admiring that I apparently taught you well,” he said, nodding towards Ilya’s neatly folded clothes. “I’m glad I rubbed off on you. Oh fuck off, not like that,” he laughed, rolling his eyes at Ilya’s smirk and raised eyebrows as he stepped out of his own trousers. Ilya was already pulling on the sweats Shane had loaned him, and the navy Cens hoodie somehow suited him. “When was the last time you were on the ice?”

“I skate for my PT, maybe two times a month. But it has been a few weeks. Don’t worry, Hollander, I am not scared.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Shane laughed, sitting down and pulling on the laces of his skates after also changing his pants from the expensive slacks he had been wearing. Ilya was doing the same just along the bench from him, and Shane watched Ilya’s hand working efficiently, like it was second nature, which it probably was. Shane did the same to his skates and then they both stood on their blades, smiling at each other. “Ready?”

“Sure.”

Shane led the way towards the ice, and even had to admit that it was a little eerie like this. The spectator stands were in darkness, only the floodlights above the ice lit. There wasn’t a sound as they stood by the ice, looking out. Shane reached for one of the sticks left there and then handed one to Ilya, grabbing a puck before he skated out confidently, hearing Ilya just behind him.

“Fuck, I miss this,” Ilya said, skating away from Shane, manoeuvering easily and smoothly on the ice. He still had wonderful form, and Shane slowed down, allowing himself to watch Ilya skate for the first time in too many years. The thing was, Ilya had always been Shane’s favourite person to play against on the ice, even after they were no longer intimate together. He matched Shane’s skills in a way that nobody else did, and Shane knew that he always played a little better whenever it was against Ilya.

Shane took off after him, the puck in the pocket of his hoodie as he followed Ilya’s path. He watched as Ilya turned around, skating backwards as he grinned at Shane, his curls quivering with the speed of his movements.

“So… do you miss all of it?”

“Hockey? You know I am coach, Shane. My life is still hockey.”

“No, I mean playing. Face offs, scoring, slamming me into the boards…”

“Sometimes. Hockey was always very important to you, and to me too. But was not my life in way it was yours. I know now is different, now you have Ollie, but hockey is important to you. For me, was only way to stay in America, away from Russia. Winning was extra.”

“I always thought I’d never be able to walk away from hockey,” Shane said, skating beside Ilya now, the pair making it look easy, as natural as walking. “But these days… maybe I think I could give it up, for Ollie. I don’t want to miss all of his life because I’m away travelling, putting the game first.”

Ilya skidded to a stop, grabbing Shane’s hand as he did so, their bodies almost colliding as they stopped. “You said in LA too, you really want to retire?”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Shane said, grateful to have someone to talk to about this. “Maybe next year. We’ve been playing well this year, I think we have a real chance at the Cup again. I don’t want to get distracted, but… it could be good to go out on a high.” He started skating again, Ilya once again at his side. “Do you think it’s crazy that I’m considering it?”

“Shane, you have never been crazy in your life. You are sensible, smart. If you are thinking of this, it is not crazy. You want to put Ollie first, that makes you good dad.”

“That’s all I want to be. I feel like… I’ve got my legacy here, on the ice. I’ve got Cups, MVP awards, five Art Ross trophies-”

“Show off.”

Shane laughed. “Fuck off. You know what I mean… I’ve done everything I could possibly do here. Maybe it’s time to hang my skates. Focus on something new.”

“Well, if this is case, then I want to play you.”

“Now?”

Ilya nodded, flashing Shane a wicked grin. “Now.”

They both skated to the centre and bent down, tapping their sticks on the ice as they looked up, staring at each other.

“Like old times, huh?” Ilya asked, and Shane nodded. He reached for the puck out of his pocket, Ilya following the movement until he dropped it. Competitive as ever, they both grabbed for it but Ilya was slightly faster, taking off with the puck and heading for a goal. Shane was hot on his heels, but a fraction too slow as Ilya took a shot, cheering as it went straight into the net. “Still got it.”

“Right, I’ll stop going easy on you.” Shane reached for the puck with his stick and sent it back towards centre, the pair facing off again. “Your turn.”

They kept playing until the score was 4-4 and Shane was ready to give in. He never skated on a full stomach, and he was slightly regretting doing so tonight. Ilya looked across and skated over, taking Shane’s stick out of his hands.

“Let’s call it draw, Hollander,” he called, skating off and dumping the sticks and puck on the bench. Shane watched carefully as he did so and could see that Ilya was favouring his right side, but he wasn’t sure whether to mention it. “Sorry, I… I need to stop. My knee is reaching limit. I should rest.”

“I pushed you too hard, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologise, Hollander. Was so much fun.”

They skated off the ice together, and Shane supported Ilya as he put on his blade guards, seeing his jaw tense as he took his weight on his left leg. They headed back to the locker room, and Shane just grabbed his clothes, deciding not to bother changing. Ilya clearly had the same idea, promising to return the clothes the next time they met. Shane was pleased Ilya was insinuating there would definitely be a next time.

“I can drop you back at your hotel,” Shane suggested as they walked out of the rink, making sure the doors were all locked behind them. The car park was frosty so they walked carefully towards Shane’s car, getting in. Ilya chose a radio station as Shane drove back into the centre of Ottawa, the traffic quieter at this time of night. It wasn’t long before he was pulling up at the curb, pulling on the handbrake. “Thank you for tonight. I had a lot of fun.”

“Was nice to skate with you again, Shane. We are not as young as we used to be.”

“Well, we haven’t lost it, so that’s something,” Shane joked, wishing that Ilya didn’t have to leave as he removed his seatbelt. “You’re flying home tomorrow, right?”

“Yes. I can call you when I am home?”

“I’d really like that.”

“Well, thank you for dinner,” Ilya said, leaning over and pulling Shane into an awkward little hug, their torsos pressed close in the confined space. “See you soon, I hope.” He opened the door and went to get out, clutching his pile of clothes in his arms. He paused, blinking before he leaned in, pressing a brief but warm kiss to Shane’s cheek. “Goodbye, Shane.” He gave a little wave, and then, he was gone.

Shane’s cheek felt like it was on fire and he reached up, pressing his fingertips to where Ilya’s lips had been. Fuck.

******

As soon as Shane got out of his car, he squinted, the sun almost blinding him. He could hear Ollie screaming somewhere behind the house, and Chiron barking and he hurried up the steps, ringing the bell.

“Hey man, good night?” Troy asked as he answered the door, pulling Shane into a quick hug. “You look far too awake considering you had a date last night.”

“It wasn’t a date,” Shane corrected, following Troy through the house. “I love that he doesn’t even bother to come and greet me at the door anymore.”

“Boring dad who he sees every day versus playing frisbee with Chiron, is it really a contest?”

Harris was laughing as he threw the frisbee again, and both Ollie and Chiron took off after it as fast as they could, Chiron leaving Ollie for dust as he sped off. When the dog had caught it, he raced back towards Harris and it was then that Ollie realised Shane had come to collect him.

“Daddy! You’re back!”

Shane grinned as Ollie raced at him, jumping happily into his arms. He hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek as he gave him a squeeze.

“Did you miss me?”

“No, I had a good time with Harris and Troy! They made me waffles for breakfast with syrup, and I helped do Chiron’s food, then we walked him!”

“Sounds good, kiddo. You want a drink?”

Ollie nodded, and Troy took his hand, leading him back up to the house, leaving Shane with Harris. They both sat down on the garden chairs, staring up at the blue sky before Harris spoke.

“Have you been on Instagram?”

“The photo?” Harris nodded. “Yeah, I saw it. I didn’t know she would post it.”

“Hey, Shane, I don’t mind. Your hashtag has gone nuts, and the fans are going wild over you and Rozanov being spotted together. It’s a good photo, you both look hot as fuck.”

“Harris!”

“What? I have eyes, Shane. But… I know you, how you feel about this social media stuff. You okay about that photo being out there?”

“I saw it last night,” Shane admitted, omitting the fact he had spent over an hour in bed texting Ilya after spending the entire evening with him. “I mean, I freaked out at first. It blew up, and people were just posting it everywhere.”

“I know, I watch all of your socials, remember?”

“I didn’t post it?”

“But you were tagged… never mind, remind me to give you another Instagram lesson someday. Seriously, though, are you okay?”

Shane turned slowly, grinning at Harris. “I actually am? I know that doesn’t sound like me but… it’s a good photo. We look good, and… I quite like people freaking out about it. Asking if we’re friends now, if we’re going to play together again.”

“And you like that?”

He shrugged, turning back in his seat and looking up at the sky. “For once, it’s not about our rivalry, who’s going to beat who. It’s just… speculation. A bit of fun. It feels lighter, like it’s okay to enjoy it.”

“You’re weirdly okay with this, Shane. I’m honestly a bit shocked.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Shane laughed, glancing down as his phone buzzed, a text from Ilya coming in, probably from the airport. “I thought I’d feel worse about it. Being seen like that, I mean. But I don’t.”

“Like what? Smiling? Dressed all pretty?”

“Fuck you, no! Like… not like we hate each other. Not pretending that we don’t exist in the same world.”

Harris sighed, pausing before he spoke again. “People will talk. Read into it.”

“They always do,” Shane agreed, hearing Troy and Ollie chatting behind them as they walked up the garden. “Let them. We have nothing to hide.”

“Daddy, guess what! Troy just gave me a candy bar!”

“Oh, Jesus Christ… remind me to thank you later for the sugar high, guys…”

Chapter End Notes

Hehe, hope you enjoyed it!

Next up...

Shane has a surprising proposition for Ilya...
and finally Ollie comes face to face with his Illy.❤️❤️

I cannot WAIT to share this one with you!

Chapter 8

Chapter Summary

I will come

Rudolph on repeat

Illy…is in our house

Chapter Notes

It's finally here! Ollie meets his Illy!

I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to see that everyone is just as excited as I am to read this part. I just hope it isn't a disappointment after all the build up lol!

So much more to come, of course, but please enjoy this little chapter :)

Let me know your thoughts in the comments, I'm trying to get better at replying to them! xxx

December

“Stand back, the oven is hot,” Shane cautioned as he slipped on the oven mitts, checking that Ollie was out of harm's way before he opened the oven, steam billowing into the kitchen. “They look great, good job!”

Shane set down the tray and lifted Ollie so that he could see the cookies, keeping him away from it. Ollie looked delighted and he asked if he could take a photo to send to Yuna and David.

“We can ask them to come over later to try one if you want,” Shane offered, and Ollie nodded eagerly. “Okay, I’ll ask them. Do you want to go play for a bit?”

Ollie shook his head. “I want to colour my Christmas cards, please.”

“Oh, sure. Let me go and set you up.”

A short while later, Shane was sitting on the couch and flicking through his Instagram while Ollie was sitting nearby on the floor, his colouring pencils scattered around him as he happily coloured in the cards Shane had got him to send to the Centaurs. It was the first year Ollie had properly been able to write the cards himself, and Shane knew he was excited to give them out at the last game the next day.

His phone buzzed and Shane paused, wondering for a moment if he should answer. Usually, he tried not to be on the phone around Ollie, treasuring the time they had together, but Shane figured that Ollie would definitely want to take this call.

“Hey, Ol, Ilya is calling. You want to say hi and Merry Christmas in case we don’t speak to him before?”

“Yeah!” Ollie abandoned his masterpiece and scrambled up onto the sofa, sitting on Shane’s lap just as Shane answered the call. Ollie waved frantically at the camera, almost hitting Shane in the nose with his enthusiasm. “Hi, Illy! Guess what I’m doing?”

“Um, helping Santa wrap gifts,” Ilya replied, and Ollie giggled wildly, shaking his head. “Feeding reindeer?”

“No, I’m not an elf, Illy! Me and Daddy cooked Christmas cookies, and now I am colouring in my cards for Troy and Bood and Harris and Luca and Nicky and-”

“Hey, I don’t think Ilya needs to hear about every single person you’ve written a card for.”

Ila quickly disagreed with Shane’s word. “No, I do. Do I have one?” Ollie nodded, wriggling off Shane’s lap to grab something before he reappeared, holding it up for the camera. Shane reached out and held the bottom of it as Ollie opened it, showing where he'd written 'To Illy' in his wobbly four-year-old handwriting. Ilya's cheeks reddened slightly, and the smile on his face told Shane all he needed to know about how much this meant to the other man. “ Wow. Is for me?”

“Yep, I coloured it by myself and writed it too. Do you like Christmas trees, Illy?”

“I love them, you are very good artist. I will pay you to decorate my house,” Ilya said, and Shane’s heart melted at how easily the pair talked with each other now.

It had been a couple of months since the dinner they’d had in Ottawa, and Shane felt closer to Ilya than ever. They texted almost every day and spoke on the phone at least twice a week. Shane now followed the Western Conference hockey games more closely than he ever had in his life, and found himself sending Ilya running commentary via text throughout his team’s games, even though he never got a reply until after when Ilya was back home or in his hotel.

Ollie had caught Shane on the phone a couple of times and had insisted on saying hi to ‘Illy’ himself, and the pair seemed to have struck up a friendship of sorts. Ilya seemed happy to listen as Ollie recounted as much of his day as he could, or talked about his skating lesson, or even the puzzle he’d spent an hour on with Grandpa. Ilya never seemed to get bored, never hurrying Ollie and listening intently as he spoke, which Shane appreciated more than he could say.

“You have a tree?”

“Uh, no,” Ilya admitted, and Ollie’s jaw dropped, looking horrified at Shane before he looked at Ilya again, the thought of someone celebrating Christmas without a Christmas tree apparently traumatising for a four year old. “Is just me in my house so… I did not. Yours is very beautiful.”

Ollie turned to look at Shane, concern all over his face. “Daddy, Illy doesn’t have a tree.”

“I heard, Ol. I’m sure Ilya is okay, though, he’s a big boy, he can celebrate Christmas without a tree, right?”

“Yes, probably. You are playing on Wednesday?”

“Yeah, against Toronto,” Shane replied, shifting Ollie so he was more comfortable. “Mom and Dad are bringing Ollie with them. We do a Secret Santa gift collection for the Children’s Hospital and Ollie has a few gifts to donate. You wrapped them yourself, didn’t you, bud?”

Ollie nodded, still looking a little downcast. “Daddy, can I go draw something please?”

Shane let Ollie down and watched him head over to his basket of drawing supplies, selecting a piece of paper and sitting down heavily on the floor, a stack of crayons around him as he scribbled with urgency on his piece of paper. “So, my parents are flying to Aruba for Christmas after the game on Wednesday. They’ve never been away for the holidays before, but I told them it was fine to go. They’ve worked hard all year for me, they deserve it. So it’s just me and Ol this year.”

“Aruba is nice,” Ilya commented, but Shane saw how his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I am sure you will have lovely time with Ollie.”

“Yeah, if I don’t manage to kill us both with my cooking,” Shane joked, although he was actually a little concerned at his ability to manage an entire Christmas dinner by himself. The invitation Jackie Pike had extended to Shane and Ollie had been very tempting. “What about you? Are you spending Christmas with Svetlana?”

Ilya shook his head, not looking at Shane for the next few seconds. “No, she is in Russia, seeing her father. Is not Russian Christmas so she does not like to celebrate. But… I feel like I have been here so long, it is Christmas to me.”

“Right, so… who are you with for the day?”

“Just me,” Ilya admitted, and Shane’s heart sank at the thought of Ilya waking up on Christmas morning by himself. “Is okay. I will have Christmas swim, and eat bad food all day and watch hockey. Is good day for me.”

Shane gave a small smile, but it didn’t feel right, hearing that from Ilya. His mind went into overdrive, but Ollie interrupted it, tugging on his sleeve until Shane looked at him.

“Can I have the phone please, Daddy?”

“Uh, sure. Here you go.”

Shane handed it over and he watched as Ollie took the phone and Ilya over to the Christmas tree, sitting down in front of it, a piece of construction paper in his hand. Shane stayed quiet as he listened to Ollie, his little face and voice more serious than usual.

“Illy, I am sad you don’t have a tree.”

“Ollie, I am okay. I see Christmas trees everywhere-”

“No, ‘s not Christmas without a tree so…” Shane watched on as Ollie clumsily held the phone, poking his tongue out as he fumbled for the right button on Shane’s screen. He could just make out the way his son flipped the camera, and tears sprang to Shane’s eyes as he saw what Ollie had done. “I drawed you a tree, Illy.”

When he spoke, Ilya’s voice was huskier than he’d probably care to admit, and Shane was glad he was far enough away to give Ilya space. “That is my favourite tree in whole world, Ollie. Will you keep it safe until Daddy can give it to me please?”

“You like the star?”

“Is beautiful, moya malen'kaya zvezdochka.”

“What was that?” Ollie asked wide eyed, looking at Shane and then back at Ilya on the screen.

“Is, uh, my little star in Russian,” Ilya said, and Shane’s heart felt like it was going to burst.

“Sounds funny, Illy,” Ollie giggled, standing up and running to Shane, leaving Ilya’s tree on the floor, lit up by the fairy lights of Shane’s own tree. “Daddy, Illy speaked Russian!”

“I heard. Listen, kiddo, can you stay here with your Christmas cards for a minute? I need to ask Ilya something. I’ll be right back.”

Shane stood and kissed his son on the head before he left the room, going into the kitchen. He kept the door open but pushed it almost closed, not wanting Ollie to hear what he was about to say, what he’d just made a decision about as he saw Ollie just utterly light up just from talking to Ilya.

“Ilya… I want to ask you something. You can say no, but I would really love if you didn’t.”

“Okay… what is it, Shane?”

Shane took a breath, letting it out slowly before he spoke, focusing on keeping his voice steady. “Come to Ottawa and spend Christmas with us. It’s just me and Ollie, and I- we'd really love for you to come and stay. I hate thinking of you out there on your own at Christmas..”

Ilya was quiet, and Shane bit his lip, wondering if he’d overstepped. His heart was going crazy in his chest, but Shane waited it out, knowing that sometimes Ilya needed a minute to consider an answer.

“Shane, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

‘It is your Christmas, with Ollie. You will want to spend time with him…”

“I can do that with you here, too. The Hammerheads don’t have a game until the 29th, you have time. Just… relax with us, here. We can have a few days. Together.” Shane watched Ilya’s face, and spoke softly, determined to persuade him.

“Ilya,” Shane added, gentler now, “it wouldn’t take anything away from me and Ollie. It would just… add you.”

Ilya paused, eyes flitting up to the lens, like he was staring into Shane’s eyes.

He spoke then, quietly, “I do not want to be… in the way.”

“You won’t be,” Shane said immediately. “You’ll be exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

Ilya held his gaze for a long moment, then he exhaled.

“…It would only be for a few days,” he said carefully, like he needed to have some sort of control over the situation, to ensure Shane knew he wouldn’t overstay his welcome, not that that was possible in Shane’s eyes.

Shane’s heart leapt. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. A few days.”

“And I will not do… Christmas things all the time,” Ilya added, a faint edge of defensiveness creeping back in. “No awful Christmas sweater. No singing.”

Shane laughed, relief spilling out of him. “Deal. Minimal singing. I can’t promise about Ollie, though.”

They fell into a quiet for a second, but it wasn’t heavy anymore. It felt… settled. Easy.

“…Shane?”

“Yeah?”

“I will come.”

The words landed softly, but they hit Shane like something bright and electric.

“Okay,” Shane said, unable to stop smiling now. “Okay. Good. That’s—good.”

“Thank you for asking me, Shane.”

******

The final game before Christmas happened two days before Christmas, and Shane was determined to end on yet another victory for the Centaurs. They were playing against the Toronto Guardians, a home game, and Shane loved how all the fans in attendance had combined their Cens merch with a dash of Christmas, whether it was festive antlers or a Christmas scarf.

“One more period, guys. I know you’re all tired and ready to go on Christmas break, but let’s do this, okay? It’ll be pretty fucking special if we can close this out with another win. Not sure I’ve ever done that before.”

“I only let them get that goal because it’s Christmas,” Wyatt called, and the room exploded with laughter at that. A glance at the clock told Shane there was only three minutes before they were expected back on the ice, so he rallied everyone, sending them out of the door. He quickly checked his phone before he left, smiling at the message Ilya had sent.

Shane laughed and locked his phone, quickly heading out behind Haas, who was bringing up the rear of the group. Coach ordered the first line onto the ice, and Shane gave Ollie a quick wave, his son waving back in his rather garish Christmas jumper, flashing lights and all, making him easy to spot. He skated to centre and focused, determined to give the last period of the game his all.

By the time the final whistle blew, the Centaurs had only managed one more goal off of a powerful assist from Shane but it didn’t matter. They’d won, and the crowd were extremely enthusiastic. Christmas music was blaring through the arena, and the Centaurs team started singing along, waving their sticks in the air as they encouraged the audience to sing along to Mariah Carey’s famous hit. Some of the Guardians even started to join in, and Shane skated over to their Captain, Marcel Houde, slinging his arm around his shoulders as they sang loudly and out of tune.

As he skated off the ice when the handshakes were done, Shane met his parents, who were packed and ready to go to the airport. They’d exchanged Christmas gifts with Shane and Ollie earlier in the day so that they could go straight from the game to the airport, not wanting to miss their flight.

“Have an amazing holiday,” Shane said as he lifted Ollie out of David’s arms, putting him on the floor next to him. “Call me when you arrive, okay?”

“We will. Can we call you Christmas morning? I’d love to wish you Merry Christmas, and see if Santa has been…”

“I been so good, he is gonna come, Baaba!” Ollie said, jumping up and down excitedly beside Shane.

Shane made sure to make the goodbyes quick so that Ollie wouldn’t get too upset, and held his son’s hand as he finally made his way through the tunnel towards the locker room. Some of the Guardians were already changed and leaving, so Shane chatted for a few minutes, until Ollie got ansty, tugging on Shane’s hand. They moved on and Shane opened the door to the locker room, calling out as he walked in.

“Mini Hollander in the room, keep it clean, guys!”

A few of the players were already showered and dressed, and Ollie ran straight over to Bood, who was sitting in his stall, his arms open for a hug. Shane grabbed his things and headed for the showers, knowing Ollie was more than content to sit with his teammates while he washed the game off. He could hear hideous Christmas music playing, and he sighed, realising some fool had given Dykstra control of the aux cord yet again.

Shane headed back through when he was done, and Ollie ran back to him, tapping Shane’s hip on top of the towel around his waist.

“What’s up?”

“Can I give my cards out please Daddy?”

“Oh, sure. I’m glad you remembered.” Shane looked in Ollie’s bag and pulled out the pile. “Want some help reading the names?”

“I can do it,” Ollie insisted, beaming as he ran to the middle of the room. Everyone fell silent as Ollie stood there, and Shane could only wish to command that level of immediate respect from his team. “I made Christmas cards, you can open them now, you don’t have to wait ‘til Christmas!”

Slowly but surely, Ollie carefully sounded out each of the names and delivered them to each of the Centaurs, giving each man a hug before he ran back to the pile in the middle of the room for the next one. He even insisted that Troy text Harris to come down from his office and receive his, much to Troy’s amusement. Everyone opened them eagerly and praised Ollie for his efforts, and a few even had their own cards and gifts for Ollie in their bags, even though Shane had insisted that Ollie really didn’t need anymore gifts.

Players started to leave and Shane wished them Merry Christmas as they filtered out, everyone hugging Ollie too and telling him to enjoy whatever Santa brought. By the time Shane was packed and changed into his game day suit, it was just he and Troy left in the room, Harris having taken a hungry Ollie off to find something to eat in his office.

“You sure you’re okay taking him back to mine?”

“Yes, Shane, how many times? You know I don’t mind. How are you feeling about it now that it’s actually happening?”

“I’m just… I want it to go well,” Shane admitted, the nerves setting in now that Ilya was just hours away from arriving in Ottawa to spend the festive period with him. “I didn’t tell Mom and Dad, which feels a bit weird, but I don’t want to have to explain everything yet, you know? Mom was a bit freaked out about the photo of us having dinner so I really don’t think she’d understand this.”

“It’s your life, Shane, and as long as you and Ollie are happy, that’s all that matters. Harris put the car seat in our truck earlier, so we’re good to go when you are. What time does his flight get in?”

“Uh, six,” Shane answered, grabbing his bags and heading out, Troy holding open the door for him. “So I should be back by around seven thirty. I’ve got a couple of pizzas in the freezer in case he’s hungry.”

“Look at you being all house-husbandy,” Troy joked, and Shane was about to glare when he saw Ollie running at him, clutching a toy reindeer to his chest. “Oh wow, who is that?”

“Rudolph!” Ollie screeched, and Troy and Harris just laughed at the reaction. “I saw Coach in Harris’ office and he gave it to me, Daddy, look!”

“Cool, I love it. Ol, remember that Troy is going to take you home, okay? I have a few errands to run, but I’ll be back to put you to bed. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Can we watch Rudolph?”

“Again?!” Shane caught Troy’s eye, seeing confusion there. “Ollie, we’ve already seen it twice just this week…”

“It’s the best! Please, Uncle Troy! Rudolph wants to see a movie about himself!”

“I mean… sure?” Troy laughed, ruffling Ollie’s hair. “Not sure I’ve seen it…”

“It was my mom’s favourite, then she showed it to me and it became mine. Now I think it’s Ollie’s too.”

“That’s so cool. I think we can get Uncle Harris and Chiron to watch with us. You ready to go?”

Ollie nodded and ran at Shane, giving him a hug before he skipped happily off with Troy to find Harris, leaving Shane to finally head outside and to his car. He’d left plenty of time to be able to get to the airport to collect Ilya, and now it was actually happening, he was starting to feel a little nervous.

As he drove down the freeway to the airport, Shane thought about how all of this was going to go. It had been a spur of the minute decision to ask Ilya to come and celebrate Christmas with them and while he wasn’t regretting it, the thought of spending time like this with Ilya and with Ollie was playing on his mind. But there was a small part of Shane that was really looking forward to the opportunity of spending some uninterrupted time with Ilya, perhaps to really get to know him again.

Shane parked up and turned off the engine, settling back in his chair. His lower back was aching a little from a hard play during the game but Shane ignored it, grabbing his phone. He looked up the airport’s arrivals on their website and frowned when he saw that Ilya’s flight was landing later than planned. Shane wasn’t sure if Ilya just had a carry-on or if he would have to wait for his baggage so he sent him a text, letting him know where he was parked for when he landed.

Christmas music was playing on the radio and Shane texted his parents, thanking them for always being so supportive. It was the first Christmas that Shane had spent apart from them in a few years now, since before Ollie was born and it did feel a little strange. Still, they really did deserve a break, and Shane hoped they would take full advantage of the hotel amenities while they were away.

It was almost an hour later when finally, Shane saw that Ilya’s plane had landed. He’d already texted Troy, apologising that he was going to be later than planned and asked if he could please try to get Ollie in bed by eight thirty. Troy had insisted he was fine, sending a picture of himself with his feet up, eating some of Shane’s Christmas snacks and watching Elf on the television, Ollie colouring on the coffee table next to him. He was staring out of the window when a text made Shane jump, and he smiled to himself, heart starting to beat a little faster as he read Ilya’s words.

Shane drummed his fingers on the steering wheel until finally… there he was. Ilya was walking towards him like the airport parking lot was some kind of runway, and Shane sighed, steeling himself before he got out of the car. There was no one around but Shane kept his distance, smiling as Ilya got closer, pulling his carry on behind him. He only bit his lip when he realised what Ilya was wearing… the Centaurs hoodie that he’d kept after they’d skated on the rink together following their dinner.

“You made it,” he said, almost cringing at the words but a little caught off guard after seeing Ilya in his clothes so publicly. “Good flight?”

“Yes. I can get my own bag, Hollander.”

Shane ignored him, picking up Ilya’s bag and stowing it in the trunk, next to his own bags which were still in there from the game. Ilya was already getting in the passenger seat, so Shane got in next to him, looking across to Ilya and grinning. He paused before deciding to just say what was on his mind.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too, just… terrified, yes?”

“Of Christmas?”

Ilya laughed, shaking his head. When he spoke, his voice was a little quieter than Shane had expected. “No, of being in the way.”

Shane froze, turning to Ilya. “I asked you to come and spend Christmas with us. You couldn’t be in the way. I… I want you here. You ready to go?” Ilya nodded so Shane started the engine, pulling away and heading onto the road. “It’s about an hour back to my place. I have food there if you’re hungry…”

“I am fine, but thank you.”

There was a little awkward silence then so Shane focused on the road, glad that the weather wasn’t too horrendous considering the time of year. It was fairly quiet and Shane sat stiffly, switching on the cruise control as he hit the freeway.

“Shane.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

Shane frowned, wondering why Ilya was asking. “I’m fine. Just concentrating on the road.”

“You are tense. If you have changed your mind-”

“I haven’t. Shit, I’m just a bit nervous, okay? I want this to go well… for you to have a good Christmas with us.”

Ilya sighed, and Shane shivered as he felt Ilya’s hand rest on the back of his hand where it had been resting on the gear shift, gently kneading his stress away. “Shane, do not worry. I am happy to be here. Excited, even.”

“Okay, good,” Shane nodded, subconsciously leaning into Ilya’s touch. “I’m looking forward to you meeting Ollie.”

“He is at home?”

“Yeah, he’s with my best friend, Troy. I think he’s gotten him to watch this Christmas movie that he’s already watched several times this week, so be prepared for him to make you watch it as well. Sorry, I know you’re not a huge fan of Christmas.”

“I don’t mind,” Ilya shrugged, smiling at Shane. “I think I will enjoy Christmas if it is with you.”

“Well, I’m glad. I think you’ll have to wait until tomorrow to meet Ollie, though. I’ve asked Troy to make sure he’s in bed on time tonight because he’s already excited enough about Christmas. I, uh, I haven’t told him that you’re coming. I thought it would be a nice surprise.”

“I hope it is,” Ilya answered, maybe a little more nervous sounding than Shane would have expected. “How was the game? I did not see end as I was on plane.”

Now this was something Shane was comfortable talking about. He chatted easily with Ilya about the game, about how they’d managed one more goal, and how they’d even sang a Christmas song with the Guardians on the ice, much to Ilya’s amusement.

“You would never catch me singing on ice,” Ilya chuckled as he frantically searched online for evidence of Shane’s earlier sing-song. He watched it with the volume up loud, and Shane felt a little grateful that he couldn’t see the screen, his eyes fixed on the road. “Wow, Hollander. I did not know you are secret pop star.”

“Oh my god, fuck off,” Shane laughed, indicating and pulling off the main road towards where he lived. The snow was a little thicker here, so Shane slowed down, wanting to make it home in one piece. Soon enough, his house came into view and Shane swung easily into the driveway, putting the car into park and taking a breath, drumming his fingers on the wheel. “Okay, well, here we are.”

Wordlessly, they got out of the car and Shane fetched Ilya’s bag from the back, handing it over as he got his own bags too. Snow was falling as they hurried towards the house, Shane pulling his keys from his pocket. He unlocked the door and stepped quietly inside, wiping his feet before Ilya did the same, standing next to Shane as they shrugged off their coats.

“Sorry we have to be so quiet, Ollie has bat-hearing-”

“DADDY!”

Shane barely had time to compute what was happening when Ollie launched himself at his legs, babbling excitedly about what he’d been up to as Troy hurried after him.

“I’m so sorry, Hollzy, I tried to get him to sleep but he wouldn’t, said he wanted to wait until you were home-”

“It’s fine-”

“Daddy…” Ollie had finally stopped talking and was staring wide-eyed up at their visitor. “Daddy, Illy is here. In our house. Not far ‘way.”

Shane smiled, reaching down and lifting Ollie up into his arms. He was looking ridiculously cute in his Christmas pyjamas and Shane spoke softly to him. “Yeah, buddy, he is. I asked Ilya to come and spend Christmas with us this year. Is that okay?”

Slowly, Ollie nodded, not dragging his eyes away from the sight of Ilya in his hallway. “It's amazing, Daddy. Is he sleeping in our house?”

“For a few days, yes.”

“Is he gonna have a sleepover with you?”

Shane caught the telling smirk on Troy’s face, his best friend apparently watching the interaction with amusement, but Shane ignored him. “No, Ollie. He’s staying in the guest room. Are you gonna say hi?”

“Hi, Illy,” Ollie waved, smiling shyly before he yawned loudly, all three men surrounding him laughing gently at that. “Can’t believe you’re at my house. Do you wanna play with me?”

“Hi, Ollie,” Ilya said, his voice much more gentle than Shane had maybe ever heard it before. “I would love to play with you, but maybe is best when you are more awake?”

“I’m awake,” the little boy insisted, wriggling down from Shane’s hold and taking a few brave steps over to Ilya. Shane just watched on, uncertain if he should interrupt. “I got cars. Come see.”

Without warning, Ollie reached up and took Ilya’s big hand in his own, dragging him through the house. Ilya threw a look at Shane, but Shane just grinned and shrugged, thinking it was probably best Ilya realised now what he’d let himself in for.

“Holy fuck, Shane-”

“Don’t even-” Shane started, turning to glare at Troy, who looked like the cat that had gotten into the cream. “Shit, maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Are you kidding me? Rozanov looked like Christmas had come fucking early when he laid eyes on your boy. I’m going to go see what Ollie has forced him into.”

Shane had no time to stop Troy from heading back in the direction of Shane’s living room, and just sighed, following him but coming to a standstill in the doorway next to Troy, almost colliding into the other man. Ilya was sitting on the floor, his legs crossed in front of him while Ollie crawled around, snatching up cars from wherever they’d been left on the floor earlier on.

“-and this one is a Toyota, see? Has the sign. And it’s blue, my almost favourite. And…” Ollie turned, rummaging in the box Shane always left in the living room for him, rammed full of all manner of transport. “This is a Ford. ‘Member, Illy, I showed you this on daddy’s phone.”

“Yes, I remember,” Ilya said, apparently taking their conversation very seriously. “You have impressive collection.”

“I been collecting since I was three,” Ollie replied, holding up three fingers as if to prove his point. “But I can share while you are living in my house.”

“This is very kind, thank you.”

“You are so fucking screwed,” Troy muttered, leaning back now placing his elbow on Shane’s shoulder, still looking at the pair on the floor. “I really don’t think that you thought this through…”

“Fuck off. Isn’t it time you went to your own home?”

“Harris is on his way back to pick me up, but I am having way too much fun.”

Ollie let out a loud yawn, and looked around for Shane, blinking sleepily at him. “Daddy, I’m super tired.”

“That’s because you’re supposed to be asleep already. You should’ve listened when Uncle Troy said it was bedtime.” Shane walked over and picked Ollie up effortlessly, holding him against his body. “Uncle Troy is going home soon, do you wanna say goodnight?”

Ollie nodded, holding out his arms expectantly, and Troy took him, cradling him just like Shane had done. The level of comfort his friends had with Ollie never failed to make Shane smile and realise that he had done a really good job raising this little human of his.

“Night night, Uncle Troy.”

“Goodnight, buddy. See you soon, okay?”

The four of them headed back into Shane’s hallway near the front door, and Troy took his sweet time pulling on his boots and coat, looking too often between Shane and Ilya. Shane was going to kill him the next time they were alone, maybe he’d make him do bag skates for embarrassing him like this.

“So, are you looking forward to spending Christmas in Ottawa?” Troy asked, and Shane looked to Ilya, who just nodded.

“Yes, will be nice to spend time with Shane and Ollie. I am grateful to be invited.”

“What’s invited?” Ollie asked.

“It means that I asked Ilya to stay here for Christmas,” Shane said, reaching behind Troy and opening the door as he had seen Harris’ headlights shine through the window next to the door. “Looks like your ride is here, thanks again for taking care of Ollie. We’ll see you soon, okay?”

Troy laughed, shaking his head at Shane’s lack of tact. “Fine, I get when I’ve outstayed my welcome. It was nice to meet you, Ilya.” He stretched out his hand, and Shane watched as the two men shook hands. “And sorry again for not getting Ol to bed.”

“Nice to meet you, Troy. Shane speaks highly of you.”

“Funny that, he does of you as well-”

Shane hoped he wasn’t blushing at that. “Troy, shut up. And honestly, it’s fine. Ollie’s stubborn when he wants to be. Have a good Christmas. I’ll call you soon, alright?”

“Sure. Merry Christmas, guys. Let me know what Santa brings, Ollie!”

Troy finally left, and Shane had sent Ollie upstairs to brush his teeth, grabbing Ilya’s bag and heading for the stairs.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry about him,” Shane said as he headed up the stairs, Ilya following just behind him. “Troy likes to wind me up, as you can probably tell.”

“He is good friend,” Ilya shrugged, pausing and looking at some of the framed photos Shane had hung on the wall. “Is nice to meet your friends.”

Shane set Ilya’s bag down just outside the doorway of their guest room.

“You can sleep in here. I’ve put fresh sheets on the bed, and there’s some towels in there. You have an ensuite bathroom, so hopefully Ollie won’t be in your way.”

“Daddy, come check my teeth!”

“God, sorry,” Shane laughed, realising how different this was to how they used to be in the past as he headed down the hall towards the bathroom where Ollie was standing on his stool, looking at his teeth in the mirror. “All clean?” Ollie turned, baring his teeth to Shane. “Good job. Into bed, please.”

Ollie dashed away and Shane tidied up, folding the stool and putting it to the side and out of the way. Shane left the bathroom and saw Ilya hovering in the hall.

Shane paused, tugging down the sleeves of his jumper from where he’d rolled them up to clean up the bathroom. “I’m sorry, I’ll be with you in a minute. You can go downstairs and wait for me-”

“Daddy, I’m in bed! Can you and Illy come in?”

“You don’t have to-”

“I would like to. If is okay with you.”

They headed into Ollie’s bedroom, where the little boy was already waiting, tucked under the covers. The reindeer Harris had given him early was on the pillow next to Ollie’s head, and his favourite Christmas story book was on the end of the bed, waiting.

“Right, say goodnight to Ilya, please. I’ll read your story then you need to sleep.”

“Daddy, can Illy read my story?”

Shane looked quickly at Ilya then back at Ollie. “Ollie, Ilya just got here, you can’t-

“Shane, I do not mind.”

He paused, looking at Ilya again, eyes sweeping around to check that he was sure. “I don’t mind, you’ve had a long day-”

“I would like to. If is-”

"Stop asking me if it's okay with me, Ilya. Whatever you want is fine with me, I promise."

They shared a smile before Ollie called their names, bringing them back to the present.

“My book is there, Illy,” Ollie said quietly, pointing at the story on his little desk as he snuggled down. “Daddy, can I have some water please?”

“Sure. I’ll, uh, I’ll get you some. You’re okay here?”

Ilya nodded and picked up the book, sitting down on the edge of the bed before he began to read. Shane walked away and hurried to the kitchen, grabbing one of Ollie’s lidded sippy cups they used at night time and filling it. He left the cup on the side while he went and grabbed his skate bag from by the door where he’d left it, throwing the contents into the wash and leaving his skates in the laundry room and out of the way.

He headed back upstairs with the water, listening as Ilya’s deep voice filled their home, somehow like it belonged there. Shane smiled and hovered outside the door as Ilya finished up the story, chatting softly to Ollie as they waited for Shane.

“-are you staying here all of Christmas?”

“Yes, I leave after Christmas. My team has game so I have to get back for that.”

“My daddy plays hockey. He's a Centaur. He played today.”

“I know, I watch game. Are you excited for Christmas?”

“Santa is coming! He might bring me presents if I am on the good list. Daddy says I am a good boy. Hey, Illy?”

“Yes, Ollie?”

“You didn’t have one, and now you got one.”

Shane frowned, trying to understand what Ollie meant. His son had a habit of going off on a tangent during conversations but even Shane was struggling to follow this particular thread.

“I do not have what?”

Shane crept closer, and what Ollie said next just about made his heart want to burst.

“You got a Christmas tree now, Illy. You can share mine and Daddy’s tree.”

There was a silence for a moment until Shane appeared in the doorway, and Ilya looked back at Shane, an expression of something Shane couldn’t read on his face.

“Right, kiddo. It’s late and you’re tired. You need to sleep.”

“‘Kay, Daddy,” Ollie agreed easily, wriggling down until the covers were up to his chin. “Can Illy play with me tomorrow?”

“I’m sure if you ask him nicely, he will. Sleep well, I love you.” Shane leaned down and rubbed their noses together before he kissed him goodnight, making sure Ellie was within reach. “Goodnight, Ollie.”

“Love you too, night, Daddy, night, Illy,” Ollie said, giving them both a wave as Ilya left first, Shane just behind him as he turned off the light, leaving only the nightlight on. They headed downstairs wordlessly, Ilya behind Shane, and it wasn’t until they were in Shane’s kitchen that Ilya spoke again.

“He is so wonderful, Shane. So much like you.”

Shane looked up, handing Ilya a glass of water, smiling softly. “Yeah, he’s a pretty good kid. I’m sorry if he was a lot-”

“No-” Ilya interrupted, vehemently shaking his head. “Don’t say sorry, he is a child, very excited. It is nice to have someone so happy to see me.”

There was a moment, and Shane decided, for once, to say what was on his mind. “I’m happy to see you as well. I may not have jumped at you like Ollie did, but I’m so happy you’re here.” They shared soft smiles, and Shane sighed, realising how tired he was. “Can I…”

“Can you…”

“Shit. Can I hug you? I wanted to earlier but…”

Ilya didn’t use words to answer. Instead, he stepped into Shane’s space and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pulling Shane against him. Shane stiffened but immediately relaxed, his arms looping around Ilya’s waist, squeezing tightly. They released each other at the same time, both of their cheeks slightly reddened.

“Uh, did you want something to eat?”

“I’m good. I think I need to sleep, is that okay?”

“Of course. I’m pretty tired myself, what with the game and everything.”

They headed upstairs and Shane walked into the guest room, carrying Ilya’s case into the room and putting it by the wardrobe now from where it had been left by the door. The room wasn’t used a lot, usually only by his mom when she stayed to help take care of Ollie when he was unwell or something, so it was neat and tidy. Shane just looked around, trying to see it with fresh eyes and hoping Ilya would like it.

“This is nice, thank you,” Ilya said, pulling off his, or rather Shane's, hoodie and putting it on the armchair in the corner. The tank top underneath did nothing to disguise the muscular shape of his body.

“Well, I hope you sleep well. Feel free to help yourself to anything. We’re usually up early but I’ll keep Ollie downstairs and as quiet as I can.” Ilya nodded at that, and Shane suddenly felt awkward. “Uh, goodnight, Ilya.”

“Goodnight, Shane. Thank you again for having me.”

“You’re very welcome.” He smiled and quickly headed out of the room, closing the door behind him. His bedroom was just down the hall but Shane turned the opposite way, popping his head around Ollie’s door. In the short while since he’d fallen asleep, Ollie had already kicked off his duvet and was laying sideways across his bed, mouth hanging open.

Shane chuckled to himself and gently adjusted his son, putting his head back on the pillow and the covers over his body. He leaned down and kissed his warm forehead before he left again, and finally went to his own room. Shane changed into sweats and a soft t-shirt and slid between the covers, pulling on his glasses as he looked down at his phone.

He scrolled through social media and liked a few posts about the game earlier that day, as well as the few posts Harris had made on the Centaurs accounts. There was a particularly nice video showing off the array of Christmas sweaters the crowd had been wearing, and Shane smiled as he was shown singing along to the Christmas songs blasting through the rink.

There was also a lovely shot of Yuna and David with Ollie, his face blurred as per Shane’s request, and he quickly sent it to his parents, knowing they liked to see whenever they were featured on the Centaurs pages. For some reason, Shane was finding it difficult to relax, and he sighed, putting it down to the fact Ilya was asleep in the next room. It had been so long since they’d been in the same place for a prolonged period of time, and Shane just hoped that they’d both be able to relax and enjoy the time together now.

Fighting back a yawn, Shane locked his phone and let himself sink deeper into the mattress, his gaze unfocused as it drifted toward the darkened corner of the room. The house had gone still around him, wrapped in that late-night quiet that made every sound feel sharper somehow. He reached for the lamp on the bedside table and clicked it off, plunging the room into darkness.

For a while, all he could hear was the slow, steady rhythm of his own breathing. Shane turned onto his side, tugging the blanket higher as exhaustion settled heavier into his bones, pulling him under inch by inch.

Just as his eyes began to slip shut, a knock sounded at the door. He froze. For one brief, ridiculous moment, Shane considered pretending to be asleep. But before he could decide, the handle turned.

The door creaked open. And Ilya stepped inside.

Chapter End Notes

Oops?! 😈😈😈

More on Thursday!

Coming up... spend Christmas with Shane, Ollie and Illy. Ollie thoroughly enjoys having his new friend around, and Shane realises he's in deeper than he thought...

Chapter 9

Chapter Summary

Memories of mothers

Snow angels

Hoodie left behind

Chapter Notes

This fic has just completely taken over my life. I am so in love with Ollie, Shane and Illy, and I'm so happy that people love them as much as I do. Honestly, it's the best.

I hope you enjoy this one too!

PLEASE let me know your thoughts in the comments. I am DYING to see your reactions. You'll understand when you get there.

Thank you all SO MUCH!! xx

Ilya’s body was silhouetted against the light from the hallway behind him, and Shane quickly shuffled so he was leaning up on his elbows, looking over at him.

“I am sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, not at all. Come in, close the door so we don’t wake up Ollie.”

He watched as Ilya nodded and turned, closing the bedroom door behind him with a soft click. Slowly, he walked over and nodded towards the bed, waiting until Shane smiled, turned on the lamp and patted the covers next to him. Ilya just perched almost nervously on the edge of the mattress.

“Hey, come on. You can sit on the bed. I don’t mind.” Ilya looked as though he was considering it before he finally climbed on, stretching out his long, bare legs in front of him, still on top of the covers. He was wearing a baggy pair of shorts and a black tank, and Shane couldn’t help but think he must be cold. “Are you warm enough?”

“Am fine, thank you. I felt rude going to bed as soon as I arrive in your home.”

“I promise you, it’s fine. But it’s also cool if you want to chat for a bit. I can’t seem to sleep anyway. You, uh, want to watch something?”

“You have rerun of Centaurs game? I did not see it all, and would like to.”

Shane nodded and reached for the remote, turning on the television mounted on the wall opposite the end of his bed. He quickly lowered the volume and flicked to the sports channel, pleased to see that it was showing highlights from the match earlier that night. He turned and saw Ilya smiling, pulling one of Shane’s decorative pillows from behind him back and holding it to his stomach.

“Ilya, get under the covers, I think we’re both okay with sharing a bed at this point.”

“Okay,” Ilya shrugged, not even fighting it before he stood, pulling up the covers and getting in next to Shane. The only person Shane ever shared a bed with these days was a tiny but wriggly four year old, so it felt strange to have someone next to him that made the mattress dip under his weight, causing Shane to lean ever so slightly towards him. He kept his eyes on the television, watching as Shane glided smoothly around the ice, calling out something inaudible to his teammates. “You are good captain. They listen to you. Respect you.”

“They’re a really great bunch of guys. I loved being a Metro but I feel more at home here if I’m honest.”

“Metros were not okay with you being gay?”

“No, they were. But I just… I think I feel more comfortable with the Cens. They're serious about hockey, but they also want to have fun with it. They also love Ollie to death and he loves his hockey uncles as well, we’re really lucky. What about the Hammerheads?”

Ilya shrugged, watching as Shane on screen took a shot at the goal and celebrating when it flew into the net. “They are mostly good. Sometimes very focused, sometimes not as much. Team is more younger players, they like winning, but… I am not sure they are polished enough to win Cup anytime soon. When I see you play, I see why the Centaurs have won cups. I cannot teach this.”

Shane was curious now. “Teach what?”

“What you have. Natural talent, ability. You have instincts like I did. I think you have it or not have it. Most do not, and have to work to win. You don’t. Not in a bad way, I know you work hard. But you are special to watch.”

Shane was certain he was blushing, so he kept his eyes on the screen, watching his team skating circles around the Guardians on the ice, the mood more jovial than usual due to the impending holiday season. “That’s kind, thank you. I do miss playing against you, if I’m honest. No one else challenges me in the way you used to.”

The period on screen ended and the camera cut away, focusing on some members of the crowd, the Coaching teams and families in attendance. Both men kept watching until Ilya shifted, turning onto his side so he was looking at Shane.

“Can I ask you question? Something personal?”

“Uh, sure.” Shane muted the television and turned to face Ilya, suddenly feeling nervous in his presence. This was more intimate than it had been between them in over a decade, and he took the opportunity to take in Ilya’s features, to let his eyes sweep around and mentally catalogue everything he could see.

“Ollie’s mother. You have not talk about her before, but… I am curious.” They both smiled at each other at the word, Shane immediately remembering how they’d used it to describe each other on their first encounter, back when he’d known nothing about being gay, or at least was in denial of the fact. “Will you tell me about her? If is okay?”

“Yeah, of course it’s okay, Ilya. I don’t mind talking about her. Her name is Melissa. I met her about six years ago, in the summer after I won my second cup with the Metros. We casually dated for a while. I was on the road a lot with the team, we only saw each other when I was in Montreal and not exhausted from games or team commitments, we hadn’t made anything serious.”

“She was nice?”

“Yeah, she was, but being with her made it really clear to me that I was definitely gay.”

“How so?”

“Well, I watched Scott Hunter come out when he won the Cup in 2017. I’d been seeing Mel for about a year by then. Did you… watch that?”

Ilya just nodded, an almost wistful look on his face. Shane couldn’t get into that right now.

“So, I just… it crystallised something in me. That it wasn’t possible. Not for me. I convinced myself I wasn’t like Hunter, which, with the benefit of hindsight, was the most naive thing that I’ve ever believed about myself.” He let out a sharp, humourless laugh. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ilya fold his arms, his hands tucked tightly into his body, like he was trying to hold himself together.

“I was in complete denial but by this point, I couldn’t see a version of my life that didn’t end with me losing absolutely everything,” Shane continued. “I already felt like I had a target on my back for being the only Asian player in the MLH. I couldn’t afford to be a gay man as well. Not in that world. Not if I wanted to survive it.”

“Shane…”

“It’s okay, Ilya. I know it sounds like some sort of tragic back story but I promise it ends happily.” Shane smiled at that, and Ilya shuffled on the bed, focusing completely on Shane. “So I decided to prove to myself just how heterosexual I was, and I decided to make it official with Mel. She was nice, funny, made me smile. She seemed like the sort of person I should want to be with. Obviously, I tried to make more of an effort in my relationship with her and it was… okay.”

“Okay,” Ilya said, raising his eyebrows in almost disbelief. “Wow, Hollander.”

“I know, I’m a terrible person, okay? She deserved so much better. She was a great person, it was fun to spend time with her but I realised I wasn’t really attracted to her, not like I was with-” He cut himself off, flushing as he realised what he was about to say. “Not in the way I felt about men. I ended it with her, telling her it was just too hard with my hectic hockey schedule and she was going to be starting school again as well. So really, it was all amicable, she seemed to understand, even if she probably knew I was lying.”

“But…”

“Then a few months after we ended it, she asked to meet me. I saw no reason not to, so we had dinner and she told me that she was pregnant. Of course it wasn’t planned, it wasn’t something either of us had been thinking about. She was back in business school, working herself hard and she told me that she didn’t want a baby. She knew that I wasn’t in love with her, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be a mom.”

Shane swallowed, always finding this difficult to talk about, especially as it wasn’t something he liked to think of often.

“But I wanted that baby so much, Ilya. From the moment I knew, I wanted that baby more than I’ve ever wanted anything.” He looked at Ilya, seeing how he was entirely focused on Shane, like the rest of the world had ceased to exist. “I always wanted to be a dad, so I spoke with her and said that if she went through with the pregnancy, I’d raise the baby by myself. I thought that maybe she’d change her mind when he was born but… she wanted out. She signed her parental rights over to me, a clean break. She’s down in North Carolina now, running her own finance firm.”

Ilya nodded, silently for a moment like he was letting Shane’s words sink in, digesting them. “Was it hard? Being alone with Ollie?”

“I think I told you that Hayden came to stay with me? At least, he did in the beginning. Both him and my parents got me through that. I was never completely alone, and obviously my parents were super close. I decided that I couldn’t be a parent to Ollie and play in Montreal, so I moved us to Ottawa to be near them, and I’m just glad the Metros allowed me to transfer and that the Cens were able to pick up my contract. My parents were the ones who made it easy for me to keep playing hockey, even if it was so hard to leave Ollie behind, especially when he was so little. I felt like I was being torn in two every time I had to leave him behind.”

“Do you have photos of him?”

“When he was born? Uh, yeah, lemme just…” Shane reached and picked up his phone, quickly bringing up the album he loved to look at when he was on the road, away from Ollie and missing him, the same one Ilya had looked at in LA but now with Shane providing context it felt more personal. “I love this one, it’s the first photo I had with him, he was about two minutes old there.”

Ilya took Shane’s phone and stared at it, his eyes wide as he took in the photo of Shane holding a tiny Ollie in his arms, looking down at him with nothing but love in his eyes. The next few were the first few days of Ollie’s life, Shane enjoying skin to skin with him, bottle feeding him in the soft light of the nursery he’d made in his old house in Montreal, before he’d moved.

“He was tiny. Oh, I like this one. Your mother looks so proud.”

It was a photo of Shane holding Ollie, sitting on the couch with Yuna next to him, her arm around his shoulders, looking proudly at her son and grandson. There were also photos of Shane, David and Ollie, and Ollie with various members of the Metros, one of Shane’s favourites being at his final game with the Metros before the trade to Ottawa had happened. They were all dressed in hockey gear for their game, so they all dwarfed the three month old in Shane’s arms, propped up so he was looking at the camera, Ollie’s first hockey family surrounding him.

“He was just over three months old when I moved us to Ottawa. I knew the team didn’t have a great reputation in the league, but I was determined that if I was going to be there, I’d help turn them into a team I could be proud to be part of. I told Ollie before my first game that I was going to win a Cup there for him.”

“And you did. Two times so far.”

“Yeah, I’d like to win a third but… we’ll see.”

“Shane, you have not lost a game this season. You will win this year.”

“Maybe. We’ll see, there’s still a long way to go this season.”

“So, does Ollie see her?”

“His mom? Yeah, on his birthday and on Christmas. But she called a few weeks ago, told me she’ll have to come in January this year because she’s away for Christmas.”

“Does that make Ollie sad?”

“Surprisingly, no. He’s never had a mom in his life, so he doesn’t miss it, you know? He never really asks to call her or anything, I offer but… he’s quite content with his life as it is. He’s got me, my parents… there’s plenty of people who show him enough love that he isn’t lacking anything. Sometimes, I wonder if I did the right thing, asking her to have him, raising him alone. If I’m enough for him.”

Ilya frowned, looking displeased at Shane’s honesty. “How can you think this? I know I have not known him long but even I can see he is happiest boy in the world. He is kind, funny, smart… because of you. A child only needs love and to feel safe, and you give him this, yes?” Shane nodded. “Then it is enough. He is lucky to have a father who loves him so much.”

Shane remembered what the relationship between Ilya and his own father had been like, and he realised that maybe Ilya was right. Ollie knew only love from Shane, pride at everything he did, and that was the way it would stay for as long as Shane had breath left in his body. He would never allow Ollie to feel like a disappointment, not in the way Ilya’s father had done to him.

“Thank you. What about you, though? Do you want to settle down? I know you said you spend time with Sveta...”

“Ah, no. I still spend time with Sveta, but only as my oldest friend, we have not been anything more in years. She also does not like California. She says it is too shallow. But no man or woman, not for long time.” The way he stared at Shane as he said this made him shuffle slightly on the bed, a little disconcerted by the intensity in Ilya’s face. “I have… friends in Anaheim but it is just convenient for us. Nothing more. Maybe I settle down someday, if I am lucky. Would like what I never had as a child. A family of my own to love, to take care of. A home with people who want me.”

We can be your home, were the words on repeat in Shane’s mind but he didn’t speak them aloud. It was too much to even contemplate that, because he had no idea if Ilya still had any feelings for him other than friendship. There’d been the odd glance when they’d had dinner but Ilya was a natural flirt, and Shane couldn’t be certain it was anything more than that.

Ilya must’ve felt he was getting a little too introspective because he suddenly changed the subject, reaching for the remote and turning up the volume on the television again so they could hear the commentary. “So what are we doing for Christmas, Hollander?”

They stayed on Shane’s bed until it was clear both of them were struggling to keep their eyes open, fighting the tiredness so they could continue to chat. It was Shane who reluctantly put an end to it, knowing he’d regret it in the morning if he didn’t get some sleep soon when Ollie descended on him at some godforsaken hour.

“We really should sleep,” he said at almost one in the morning, voices soft, the television switched off long ago in favour of quiet conversation. Ilya nodded and rolled over, quickly pulling Shane into a hug before he stood up, making Shane shiver as the covers lifted slightly. He walked to the door and then turned around, looking almost ethereal in the soft glow of Shane’s bedside lamp.

“Thank you. For being so honest. I have always wondered…”

“About Ollie?”

“Yes. But I could not ask. It was not my business. So thank you for telling me.”

Shane smiled and nodded. “I don’t tell many people the whole story but… I really wanted you to know.”

“I am glad. Goodnight, Shane. Thank you aga-”

“Stop thanking me. I already told you, I’m so happy that you’re here to spend Christmas with us.” They shared a soft smile and Ilya nodded before he surprised Shane by walking back over to him, placing a hand on the mattress to support himself as he leaned down, brushing his lips against Shane’s cheek.

“Goodnight, Shane.”

Shane managed a small smile, his heart racing in chest as Ilya stood upright again. “Goodnight, Ilya. Sleep well.”

The faint warmth of the hallway light slipped through the crack of the open door before Ilya finally closed it, soft and careful, as if he didn’t want to disturb the peaceful silence that had settled between them. For a second, an old instinct flickered in Shane, to reach for his phone, fill the silence, distract himself. But he didn’t. He just laid there, letting the quiet exist.

Ilya was back in his life. Friends, yes, but…Shane wondered if that would be enough, after all this time. He wasn’t certain he was ready to find out if it wouldn’t be though so for now he would appreciate what he was able to have.

*****

Shane startled awake the next morning, gasping and sitting up with a start. The sunshine was trying to bleed through the curtains, and he stretched out his hand, snatching up his phone from where he’d left it charging the night before. He squinted as the screen lit up, and-

“Fuck!”

It was well past nine. Shane had slept in way too late, and god knows what Ollie had gotten up to by himself for a few hours. Shane was cursing himself for being a useless father as he stumbled out of bed, ignoring his bladder screaming at him for relief as he hurried out of his room and towards Ollie’s, frowning at the empty bed, the blind already pulled up and showing off their snowy back garden.

“What the fuck-”

Shane rubbed his hands over his face and turned, heading for the stairs. The chill of the morning wrapped around his bare torso, having gotten warm and taken his shirt off in the middle of the night, and Shane was still blinking himself fully awake as he walked into the living room, stopping at the sight in front of his eyes.

“Daddy! Hi!”

“You’re… awake. What are you doing?”

“Me and Illy is playing. We had toast.”

“You… what? What is going on?”

Ilya got to his feet, walking slowly towards Shane. “Shane, relax. You are having panic attack. Come to kitchen.”

Blinking blearily, Shane nodded before he realised he was half naked, and Ilya was staring at him, eyes raking down to his feet then back up again.

“Uh, I’ll just, uh, get dressed. I’ll be back.”

Ollie ignored him, apparently far more focused on the cars he and Ilya had been playing with on the floor so Shane turned around and went upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. He exhaled slowly as he entered his bedroom, grabbing a hoodie from his drawer and pulling it over his head. He finally joined Ilya in the kitchen and leaned against the counter, accepting the cup of coffee Ilya handed over with a nod.

“Don’t be mad with him, okay? He was up at six. He came in my room and asked me to play. I thought you would appreciate a little more sleep after playing game yesterday and then talking so late. We play cars, I make him toast and juice.”

“Ilya-”

“I’m sorry if this is wrong. But I was trying to help, I thought-”

Shane took a step closer, resting a hand on Ilya’s chest, shutting him up instantly. “Thank you. For entertaining my son, for feeding him. I’m just sorry he had you up so early.”

“Is fine. I do not mind. We have had fun.” Ilya looked ridiculously beautiful like this, in Shane’s Centaurs hoodie and his hair all mussed up from sleep. It was the unpolished version that Ilya didn’t share with the world, and Shane felt privileged to see him like this again. He must have sensed Shane looking at what he was wearing because he tugged at the hem of the hoodie, suddenly looking uncertain.

“Sorry. I know I said I would return it-”

Shane baulked at the idea, quickly shaking his head. “No, it’s fine. Keep it, please.”

“Uh, okay. Do you want breakfast?”

“I’ll make myself something. Go and play with Ollie, he’ll be wondering where you are.”

As if on cue, Ollie’s voice rang out as he hollered for Ilya.

“Illy! Come play! You can have the Ford truck!”

“You’re being summoned. I’ll join you in a minute.”

Ilya nodded and hurried off, and Shane could hear the two of them chatting away as he made himself scrambled eggs, taking the plate through when they were ready and eating on his lap, something he never normally permitted himself to do.

“Daddy, Illy got these cars,” Ollie stated, on his feet and tapping Shane earnestly on the leg to get his attention. Shane swallowed his mouthful of food and nodded to where Ollie was pointing. “Daddy, why we not got Ferrari?"

“Like I said before, Ol, I still don’t think a car seat will fit in a Ferrari,” Shane answered honestly, ignoring how Ilya laughed at his response. “I chose our car because it’s really safe. So that if we ever got into trouble, the car would protect us and make sure you didn’t get hurt.”

Ollie went quiet then, and Shane just watched as he walked back over to Ilya, sitting back on his lap where he’d been moments before. “Illy, is your Ferrari not safe?”

“Oh, is very safe,” Ilya reassured him, holding Ollie around his waist. “But your dad is probably right. Ferrari is for older boys and girls. Maybe when you are bigger, you can get one.”

“Or a Toyota!” Ollie cried, and Shane smothered a laugh with his hand, unable to understand just where his son’s obsession with Toyotas had come from. “Daddy, can I bring my garage from my room?”

“I’ll get it when we get dressed,” Shane said, figuring there was no harm in that. “We need to go to the store-”

“Nooooooo,” Ollie whined, collapsing back against Ilya’s chest heavily, closing his eyes rather too dramatically for Shane’s liking. “I don’t wanna go to the store, it’s so boring.”

“Well, you need to eat. It’s Christmas Eve, I just need to get a few things for dinner tomorrow, we won’t be long. So upstairs and get dressed please.” Ollie stood up, glaring at Shane before stomping towards the stairs. “Hey, stop.” Ollie stopped where he was, turning slowly, still scowling. “I get that you’re upset about needing to go grocery shopping but I don’t expect you to behave in that way.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Ollie said, the scowl melting away to be replaced with a more apologetic expression. “I just hate the store, I wanna play.”

“I know, and you will later on. Upstairs, please. I’ll be there in a sec.”

Ollie nodded and went upstairs, leaving Ilya and Shane alone. He grabbed his plate and mug and took them to the kitchen, stacking them in the dishwasher. He jumped when he realised Ilya was just behind him as he closed the door, looking at him.

“What? Are you mad that I told him off?”

“No, is your child, Shane. Respect is important, yes?” Shane nodded. “I understand. But I was thinking.”

“Uh oh.”

Ilya arched an eyebrow. “Now who is rude? I was thinking that I could stay here with Ollie. As you say, is Christmas Eve. Will be busy, noisy. You can be quicker if you go alone.”

Usually, Shane would reject this outright. Ollie had had a tantrum about shopping, and Shane wanted to make a point that he followed through with things. But on the other hand, Ilya was right. It was going to be overwhelming enough for Shane as it was, without the additional worry of Ollie and keeping him on track too. Maybe staying back with Ilya would be a blessing in disguise.

Ilya must’ve mistaken Shane’s pause for hesitancy.

“Shane, you can trust me with him-”

“I know, Ilya. And I do. I think that would be a good idea, as long as you’re sure you don’t mind.”

“I do not mind. Maybe we can do some drawing, or watch hockey.”

Shane laughed. “He’ll love you forever if you watch hockey with him. As long as you’re sure, that would be great.”

The store experience was less hideous than Shane feared it would be. It was busy and loud, but without Ollie, it was faster and Shane was much more efficient. Armed with his list, he navigated the store in record time and paid for everything, only stopped twice by fans who wanted to wish him a Merry Christmas. Back in his car, Shane took out his phone and saw that he had a photo from Ilya, and he opened it, beaming at the sight of Ollie dressed in his Ironman costume, standing on the couch and posing.

Shane left the parking lot in the opposite direction from home. He’d had an idea when he was grabbing some bread in the grocery store, and was following the map on the screen in his car. The roads were thankfully pretty cleared of snow, but the sidewalks were a different matter, people trudging along in snow boots to fend off the worst.

There was a space outside the bakery Shane had found online, and he shivered as he stepped out, the wind feeling cooler now than it had before, and Shane was convinced more snow was on the way. He hurried inside, the warmth of the bakery hitting him as he closed the door behind him. He hadn’t been here before, and allowed himself to look around, taking it all in.

“Zdravstvuyte, chem mogu pomoch'?” Shane froze and just blinked, the young girl behind the desk obviously taking pity and switching immediately to English, her accent so familiar and like Ilya’s it made Shane do a double take. “Sorry, I said hello and can I help you?”

“Um, yes please. I’d like to get some pastries.”

“What sort?”

“I don’t know? My friend is Russian, and he’s spending Christmas with us. I’d really like him to have something that reminds him of home.”

She nodded, and grabbed a box, starting to fill it with a few different things, talking Shane through the different options. He assumed Ilya would know what these things were so just nodded along, thinking that actually, they did look delicious. He paid and thanked her for her help.

“Do you mind if I take a couple of photos of the place? I think my friend would really like it.”

She nodded, and Shane left the box on the counter while he snapped a couple of pictures on his phone, hoping he would be able to tell Ilya about it later on. When he was done, he picked up the box and thanked her, pausing as he reached the door.

“Actually, there was one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“How do I say Merry Christmas in Russian?”

She smiled and told him, too quickly for Shane to understand so she repeated it, taking time to help him pronounce it correctly before she wrote it down for him, phonetically as well as with Cyrillic lettering. He put the piece of paper into his pocket and thanked her once again before heading outside, the snow already starting to fall.

******

“Daddy, can we play outside?”

“You want to go out in the snow?” Ollie nodded eagerly, hands pressed against the window. That was exactly the reason Shane regretted buying a house with a wall of windows overlooking the back garden. “Alright, but not for long because it’s so cold outside. I’ll get your snowsuit.”

“Illy, you wanna play in the snow?”

“Yes. But do not worry, I am from Russia, I grow up with snow. I will not get cold.”

“You can borrow my spare boots and a coat,” Shane offered before he started to dress Ollie, helping him into the ridiculously expensive snow suit that his son would probably grow out of in a matter of months. The suit was followed by a hat, scarf and gloves, welly socks and the cutest snow boots Shane had ever seen in his life. Ollie could barely move but he wouldn’t be cold.

Ilya was already dressed in Shane’s spare coat, telling Shane it didn’t matter if his jeans got wet, that he could change when they got back indoors. He also borrowed a beanie and gloves from Shane, and seeing Ilya in more of his things was certainly doing something to Shane that he couldn’t admit. Ilya headed out to join Ollie and Shane followed last of all, cursing under his breath at the dip in temperature from even just a few hours ago.

Ollie and Ilya were working together at the bottom of the garden to build a snowman, both of them rolling around balls of snow to try and pick up more, but it was soft, fresh snow and was struggling to stick, not that that deterred either of them. Shane stood back, filming it on his phone and smiling at how idyllic this looked, how wonderful it felt to be sharing moments like this with someone else.

When they were done, the two sent Shane back indoors for a carrot for the snowman’s nose while they shoved uneven branches into its side for arms. Ilya unwound the scarf from around his neck and tied on the creature, much to Ollie’s delight. Ilya insisted on snapping some photos of the snowman and made both Shane and Ollie pose with it.

“One of you, please,” Ilya requested, and Ollie giggled, running out of the picture and directing Shane’s posing. “And group selfie, please!” Shane shivered at that but he picked Ollie up onto his hip as they all crowded together, grinning at the camera with the snowman just visible in the corner. When they were done, Ollie wriggled down and screamed that he was going to make snow angels before he took off, throwing himself onto the floor and making a start, giggling all the time.

“Send me those photos later please?” Shane asked, and Ilya just nodded, snapping one final one of just the snowman before he stood quietly, tapping on his phone until he put it away, turning back to Shane.

“I have not had snow at Christmas since I left Boston,” Ilya mused carefully, his voice quiet as he stood beside Shane, looking as Ollie continued to have fun without them, happy with his own company. “Christmas with sunshine is not the same. Not right.”

“What do you usually do for Christmas?”

“It is not big holiday for me so I don’t tend to do anything, just spend the days like they are a break, probably watch hockey or bad tv. Sveta has come to visit a couple times but like I said, she does not really care for California, and her parents are still in Russia so she go there more often now. Last year I was alone. My team invite me to their homes but I could not accept.” For some reason, that made it even more special that Ilya had so easily accepted Shane’s invitation to spend Christmas with him and Ollie, and he nodded, listening as Ilya continued to speak, opening up.

“I thought that was fine, then… I come here. See what it is like.”

“What what is like?”

“Having Christmas with people who care, with children. Is joy, Shane, to see him so excited for snow, for Santa. I did not know I need this until I am here.”

“Well, we’re happy you’re here. I mean it, Ilya. We're only a plane ride away anytime you want to come spend time with us.”

Ollie came running over then, tugging on Ilya’s gloved hand. Both men turned, looking down at him, and Shane thought his red cheeks were the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

“Illy, you made snow angels?”

“No. Can you teach me?”

Ollie nodded and practically dragged Ilya with him, laughing as he pushed Ilya to the ground, collapsing next to him. Shane watched on in amusement, filming a little on his phone as the two moved their arms and legs in tandem, creating angels on the ground. He walked over and stood above them, the two with their heads touching and he leaned over.

“Smile you two.”

The resulting photo was beautiful, and Shane couldn’t help himself from sending it to the group chat he had with Troy and Harris, the only people he could share this with right now. They replied with a choice selection of emojis, but it was Troy’s words that made Shane pause.

He came out of his messages and went to Instagram, pulling up Ilya’s profile. Right there, at the top next to his pinned post about the Hammerheads new season was a picture of the snowman he’d just built with Ollie, geotagged to Ottawa, but there was no caption, just the photo. And of course Troy had liked the post.

They headed back inside when Ollie started complaining about not being able to feel his fingers. Shane stripped him off and sent him upstairs with Ilya to get on some clean clothes while he made them all hot chocolates, putting marshmallows on top of both Ilya’s and Ollie’s for a treat. By the time he was done, Ilya and Ollie were back downstairs and were curled up under a blanket, the title screen for Home Alone on the television. Ollie was in Ilya’s lap, laying tiredly against his chest. It was doing things to Shane he didn’t want to address right now.

“Thank you, Shane, this is lovely.”

Shane settled down by Ilya’s side, the three of them tucked under one large blanket, Shane’s side pressed against Ilya’s hip as the movie began. It was nostalgic in the best way, and Shane wasn’t surprised when less than halfway through, Ollie was sound asleep on Ilya, drooling on his shirt.

“Oh god, sorry-”

“Is fine, leave him. I like this movie. Silly but makes me laugh.”

Ollie woke up again just before dinner, and Shane decided that since they were having a big dinner for Christmas the next day, they could make do with pizza for tonight. He set out the toppings for Ollie and the three customised their own pizza, Ollie copying Ilya with everything except for the olives, which he refused. They ate at the table together, and Shane felt like he was becoming far too used to this, just twenty four hours after Ilya’s arrival in his home.

After dinner Shane went quietly through to the kitchen and got Ollie’s yogurt from the fridge, setting it down with a spoon next to it. He could hear the two of them chatting happily at the table, and Shane quickly arranged the pastries he’d gotten earlier on a plate, hoping that Ilya was going to react well to the surprise, that Shane hadn’t gone too far.

He walked through, balancing everything in his hands and he set them down, almost nervous to meet Ilya’s eyes for a moment. Of course, his fears were quickly proved unfounded.

“Shane-”

“Daddy, what’s that?” Ollie asked, getting up onto his knees to peer over at the plate Shane had put down in front of Ilya. “You been bakin’ without me?”

“Christ, no,” Shane laughed, quickly shaking his head. “Ol, we just about destroyed the kitchen to make cookies and cupcakes, you think I could make something like this?”

“You is very good, Daddy,” Ollie said with a serious little expression. Ilya was trying and failing to hide a smile behind his hand, and Shane was struggling to keep his composure at Ollie’s seriousness. “You do good cookin’! But what are they?”

Shane’s eyes found Ilya’s, and he nodded, giving Ilya the go ahead to explain.

“Uh, Russian pastries. My mama used to make me these when I was your age, Ollie,” Ilya said, pointing out one delicious looking pastry. “Called Vatrushka. Like… uh, bun with cottage cheese. Delicious.”

“Does your mum still make them for you?”

Again, their eyes met but Shane stayed silent, determined that Ilya could lead the conversation however he wanted to. He trusted that the other man would deal with it in an appropriate way for his young son. He wasn’t sure he’d ever done that with anyone who wasn’t his parents before, and he felt it spoke a lot to how quickly he’d grown to trust Ilya again.

“My mama is not with us anymore. But she was amazing cook. She taught me many recipes for Russian food. Maybe one day I show you.”

“My mommy isn’t with us too, right, Daddy?” Ollie said, and Shane was about to correct him when Ollie barrelled on. “She lives in North Carolina. She is super busy and clever. But I live with Daddy and he makes good food, and reads me cool stories and helps me skate so I don’t need a mommy when I got my good Daddy.”

“Da, you are very lucky, Ollie. Would you like to try- I mean, can he try, please, Shane?”

“Of course. I think we’d both like to try some of it, Ilya.”

The two Hollanders sat and listened as Ilya explained each of the pastries to them, cutting them open to show Ollie when the boy was a little hesitant to try something. Shane was proud of how Ollie enjoyed each one, especially the small honey cake that Ilya had confessed was his favourite treat growing up in Russia.

“Thank you for this,” Ilya said quietly when Ollie had left the table to use the bathroom. “I cannot believe you do this for me.”

“I wanted you to feel at home here,” Shane confessed, swallowing heavily as Ilya rested his hand on Shane’s thigh under the table, squeezing gently. “I’m glad you liked them.”

“Was very special, Shane. I like sharing some of my Russian life with you and Ollie.”

Later on, Shane made quick work of bathing Ollie, and then changed him into the Christmas pyjamas Yuna had brought for him. Ollie asked to call his Baaba and Grandpa, so Shane sat with him on his bed, Ollie chatting eagerly about everything he’d been up to that day as Shane dried his hair. It had been an easy phone call so far but then-

“And then me and Illy made a snowman, then did snow angels, and Illy’s snow angel was so big! Baaba, it was so cold but so fun!”

“Illy?” Yuna asked, frowning at the mention of the new name from her grandson. “Who is Illy?”

“Daddy’s friend from far away!” Ollie stated, echoing the words he’d used to the Centaurs just a little while ago. “Illy in his phone, and on telly with hockey.”

“Illy… oh my god, Shane. Ilya? Ilya Rozanov is at your house?”

“Mom, don’t-”

“You told me it was a professional dinner. Why is he in Ottawa, playing with Ollie?”

“Because he’s my friend, and he was spending Christmas alone. So I asked him to come and spend it with us. Listen, I’ll talk to you about this another time, Ollie needs to get to sleep.”

“Yeah, Baaba! Santa can’t come unless I’m super asleep.”

They ended the call with Ollie promising to let his grandparents know what gifts Santa had brought, and then Shane carried him downstairs for the most important part of the night. Ollie wriggled down then ran over to Ilya, who was laid out on the couch, scrolling on his phone.

“‘Scuse me, Illy, you wanna come help me?”

“Yes, with what?” Ilya said, already up before he knew what he was signing himself up for. “You have nice bath?”

“Yes, lots of bubbles. I got to do milk and cookie for Santa, and a carrot for Rudolph.” He took Ollie’s hand and the three headed into the kitchen. Shane had been the only one to do this with Ollie for the past two years but somehow, he didn’t mind Ilya being involved in the process now at all. He watched as Ilya helped Ollie pour a cup of milk and they chose the cookie with the most chocolate chips, and they carried those, along with the carrot to the table.

“Daddy, you think he will like it?”

“He will. Now, say goodnight to Ilya, please. It’s time for you to sleep.”

Ollie grabbed Ilya in a tight cuddle, and Shane saw the way Ilya’s eyes gently closed, sinking into the hug as he wrapped his arms easily around Ollie’s small frame. They wished each other a good night, and then Shane took Ollie to bed, returning to Ilya who was back on the couch, watching some made-for-TV Christmas movie.

“Is he asleep?”

“He will be shortly,” Shane said with a laugh, settling down on the sofa and throwing his legs over Ilya’s lap in an all too familiar gesture. He realised what he’d done and went to move off but Ilya’s hands clamped down on Shane’s ankles, keeping him there. “Thank you for today. He told me he’s had the best day ever. And, uh, he told my Mom that you’re here.”

“Oh. I am sorry if that is awkward for you.”

Shane did move himself off of Ilya then, swinging his legs out and turning so that he faced him, wanting Ilya to see that he meant what he was saying.

“Ilya, I’m an adult. I can have whatever friends I like over to my home. I care what my parents think, but at the same time, it’s my decision. And I want you here, okay? She still sees you as Rozanov, the guy who was my supposed rival on the ice.”

“And I am not this now?”

Shane shook his head. “No. You were never just a rival to me.”

Ilya blinked slowly, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. All of a sudden, the air around them felt heavy, like it was weighed down with a tension that hadn’t been there before. Shane looked down as he felt something brush his fingers, and he saw that Ilya’s fingers were on top of his, barely there but enough that Shane could feel them.

It was like slow motion when Ilya began to lean in, his eyes dark as they moved towards each other. Shane swallowed, briefly letting his mind consider how it would feel to kiss Ilya again, to feel their lips press together. It was terrifying - being caught between how badly Shane wanted it and the fear that choosing it would ruin everything.

“I’m sorry, I can’t-” Shane whispered, regret flooding every cell in his body as he moved back, and Ilya looked down, nodding quickly, his hand withdrawing from Shane’s. “Ollie is upstairs, I’ve never-”

“Shane, is okay. I understand. I’m sorry for getting carried away.” There was a blush on Ilya’s cheeks that Shane chose to ignore, and they both turned back to the television, watching but barely paying attention to whatever was happening on screen. After a while, Ilya yawned and stood up, stretching his arms above his head and baring a sliver of flat stomach as he did so. “We should sleep.”

“Uh, yeah, Ollie will be up at some hideous hour,” Shane laughed, standing and beginning to fold the blanket he’d been using while Ilya did the same. They left them on the couch and headed upstairs, and this time, Ilya hovered in the doorway of his bedroom, a hand on the door handle as he looked back at Shane.

“Goodnight, Shane.”

“G’night Ilya,” Shane said softly, and spoke again, words whispered for just the two of them. “S Rozhdestvom, Ilyusha.” Merry Christmas, Ilya.

Shane watched the surprise develop on Ilya’s face, and suddenly his arms were full of a tall Russian man, his face buried in Shane’s neck as he hugged him so tightly, Shane could barely breathe.

“S Rozhdestvom, Shanya,” Ilya whispered into Shane’s neck before he leaned back and kissed Shane on the cheek, cupping his cheek with his palm before he finally turned and walked into his bedroom, not glancing back at Shane. The door closed with a soft click and Shane sighed, collecting his thoughts before he got out the presents he had stored away from Santa and took a bite of the cookie and milk to show he’d come by. He just put the carrot away knowing Ollie would never know the difference.

Once that was all set up Shane retreated to the safety of his own bedroom, wondering if he’d be able to keep this up between them for the next few days without giving in to everything he’d ever wanted.

*****

Christmas Day had been the most fun Shane had ever had. As expected, Ollie had woken the entire house at just after four in the morning, screeching about how Santa had been as he burst into Shane’s bedroom, narrowly avoiding causing Shane a serious injury with his little knee. Shane had tried to shush him, to let Ilya sleep but a few minutes later, a sleep rumpled Ilya had walked into Shane’s room, grinning as Ollie told him Santa had been.

They’d gone downstairs together and watched on as Ollie had torn his way through his presents, yawning as Shane took some photos for his mom and dad. Ilya had sat with Ollie and helped unscrew things from boxes and inserted batteries as Shane had cleaned up, making them all breakfast when it was a more acceptable hour.

The dinner Shane had cooked was a triumph, and Shane had happily shared a photo of it to his Instagram, proudly proclaiming that the first Christmas dinner he’d cooked was a big success. He’d added a few photos of the table he’d decorated, and ignored the comments rolling in that pointed out there were three place settings instead of just two.

Ollie had crashed early, and Shane had put him to bed an hour before his usual time, stroking his hair as Ilya read the story Ollie had selected, How The Grinch Stole Christmas, the whole thing feeling far too cozy and perfect to Shane. They’d both retreated to Shane’s bedroom after that, exhausted and talking quietly as they scrolled their phones, sending messages to their own friends and family, sharing details of their day.

Ilya was still wearing Shane’s Centaurs hoodie, and Ilya’s proximity to him was a lot, their legs touching despite the bed giving them plenty of space to not need to touch at all. They’d been more tactile with each other all day, and Shane looked back through his camera roll, smiling fondly at all of the photos he’d taken that day. He selected a few for a carousel on Instagram, and hesitated over a photo for a second.

“You okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Just… do you mind if I post this?”

Ilya peered over at Shane’s screen, seeing the photo Shane was hesitating over. It was one of Ilya and Ollie sitting next to each other on the carpet, working on one of Ollie’s toys, the Christmas tree taking up the other half of the image. It was taken from behind them, so neither of their faces were visible, but it was fairly obvious who it was. The similarities of their curls gave Shane pause for thought, Ilya’s blonde and Ollie’s dark, but even so, it was strikingly close.

‘I do not mind, if you don’t?”

“I don’t.” Shane selected the photo and posted it, along with the caption ‘my favourite Christmas so far’. Likes quickly poured in, and Shane scrolled on, liking a post from Hayden about his family's Christmas celebration.

He only paused when he saw a post from Ilya, just a photo of Shane and Ollie’s Christmas tree. The caption was written in Cyrillic, but Shane pressed the screen, asking the app to translate it. It was a quote from the book he’d read at bedtime to Ollie.

What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?

The thought that Ilya had shared this, that he’d let people see it, really see it, made something deep in Shane’s chest ache in a way he couldn’t quite name. He knew how those past Christmases had gone for Ilya: quiet, hollow things dressed up as indifference, Ilya shrugging it off like it didn’t matter, like it was just another day to endure. But Shane knew better now. Ilya had painted a picture of indifference because he hadn’t wanted to say how he truly felt… how alone he was.

The idea that one Christmas with Shane and Ollie might have reached somewhere inside Ilya, might have mended even the smallest, hidden crack felt too precious, too fleeting. Shane wished, fiercely, that he could hold onto that feeling. That he could keep it safe. Bottle it up and press it into Ilya’s hands on the days when the loneliness crept back in, when Ilya’s walls went back up.

He wanted, more than anything, to give Ilya something that lasted. Tears prickled at Shane’s eyes, and he quickly liked the post before he swallowed, locking his phone and setting it down. Wordlessly, Ilya held out his arm and Shane didn’t hesitate to curl into it, resting his head on Ilya’s chest, barely reacting as Ilya pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Ilya shuffled them both until they were laying down, Shane’s body by now turned and his head still on Ilya’s chest, an arm thrown across his waist. They fell asleep like that, curled up with each other, Shane happier and calmer than he’d felt in a long time.

When he awoke, the bed was cold next to him, the pillow still indented from where Ilya’s head had been laying. Shane blinked and sat up, listening for the sound of Ilya and Ollie downstairs but there was nothing. He got up, pulling on a hoodie as he went quietly to Ollie’s room, seeing his son still sound asleep, his arm thrown above his head, mouth hanging open.

Frowning, Shane left the room and went downstairs, the air too chilly, almost foreboding. Ilya was nowhere to be seen. It was only when Shane realised that Ilya’s shoes were gone from beside the front door that he began to panic. He returned to the living room, frantically unlocking his phone when he saw it. A note, nestled on the branches of the Christmas tree. He plucked it out and opened it, pressing his lips together as he read Ilya’s familiar scrawl.

Thank you for a wonderful Christmas. I cannot put into words what it meant to me to spend this time with you and Ollie. I will carry memories with me always.
I am sorry I have to leave like this. It is coward’s way out, I know.
Please forgive me, Shane.

With the note clutched in his hand, Shane went back upstairs, trying to work out where everything had gone so wrong, why Ilya felt that he had to disappear in the middle of the night. He walked listlessly back into his bedroom and sat down heavily on the bed, still looking at the piece of paper in his hand. After a while, he set it down on his bedside table and laid down, seeing a lump on the other side. He reached out, pulling it towards him.

It was his Centaurs hoodie. The one Shane had given Ilya at the rink, the one he’d lived in, on and off, since the moment he’d stepped into Shane’s home, as if it had quietly become his. His fingers tightened in the soft cotton as he held it close to his chest, like it might slip away if he didn’t. The tears came quietly at first, then slow, helpless drops. Any trace of Shane in the fibres was long gone, and all that was left behind was Ilya. It smelt of Ilya, like he was still here. It was all Shane had now. Somewhere in the silence, amongst the tears, a thought settled in Shane.

That, maybe, this time, Ilya wasn’t coming back. Maybe he never really had, everything meaning more to Shane than it had to Ilya.

And for the first time, Shane wondered if loving Ilya would always mean losing him.

Chapter End Notes

Don't hate me.

Please.

See you Saturday. x

Chapter 10

Chapter Summary

No more sleeps

Actions have consequences

Bye week plans...

Chapter Notes

My god. I am SO sorry for the pain I caused on the last chapter. I truly didn't expect that reaction. I guess you all love Ollie more than I thought!

Here's chapter 10... like I have said before... it's tagged HEA. Trust the process. Trust Shane.

Shout at me in the comments, please.
x

December 26th

The digital clock on Shane’s bedside table told him that it was definitely time to get up. It was already past eight o’clock, and how Ollie wasn’t already awake and causing a riot, Shane didn’t know. He was grateful that he hadn’t to face reality just yet, though, and he sat up, refusing to look at the hoodie Ilya had so thoughtlessly left behind, like the smallest reminder of Shane wasn’t something he wanted to have around him.

He checked his phone, seeing that no messages had come through, not that he expected them to, not after the note. The note he’d shoved deep into his bedside table, not wanting Ollie to see it. He wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to see it again either. The fact Ilya could just leave and expect this note would be enough explanation made Shane feel sick. He got up to use the bathroom, and as he washed his hands, he heard a noise, which he knew meant Ollie was up.

He couldn’t avoid it any longer. Shane walked back into his bedroom and threw back the covers, airing the bed just as Ollie ran in, a massive grin splitting his face open.

“Mornin’ Daddy! Can I go downstairs and play with my cars and my mat?”

“Did you use the bathroom?” Ollie shook his head, and Shane was glad that he asked. “Go do that, then we’ll go downstairs.”

“‘Kay,” Ollie yelled as he ran out of the door towards the bathroom.

Shane looked briefly at the side of the bed where Ilya had fallen asleep just a few hours ago, now empty and abandoned, like it held promises of something that was never meant to be. Shane sighed and walked out of the room, waiting in the hall for Ollie to finish up. The little boy was happily singing to himself as he washed his hands, and Shane’s stomach churned anxiously, wondering how the fuck he was going to do this to his son.

“I’m ready, I peed and now I can play,” Ollie said, and Shane laughed, nodding his head as he followed his son down the stairs. Ollie ran straight into the living room and sat down heavily on the floor as Shane perched on the edge of the sofa, unsettled, like he was untethered and needed something to ground him. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to, and it made him feel uncomfortable, like everything was wrong.

“You want breakfast? I can make pancakes or waffles-”

“What’s Illy having?” Ollie asked, so innocently and purely that Shane took in a sharp inhale, realising that this was happening now. He couldn’t avoid it anymore. The pause Shane gave made Ollie look up, his little face scrunching up in concern. “Daddy, where’s Illy?”

“Can you come here, kiddo? I need to tell you something.”

Ollie nodded and got up, crawling onto the sofa and into Shane’s lap. Shane wrapped his arms around his son, kissing his head before he started to speak, slowly so that he could consider each word before he said them.

“Illy had to go, baby. He said he’s really sorry that-”

“What? No! He didn’t go ‘cause he didn’t say bye to me, and you always have to say bye when you go away!”

Shane bit the inside of his cheek, steadying himself before he continued, lying through his teeth, something he was certain he’d never forgive Ilya for. “He got a call, Ollie, late last night. He had to get a flight this morning. He wanted to say goodbye so much, but you were asleep and we didn’t want to wake you- wait, Ollie, no-”

Before he could really react, Ollie had jumped away from Shane’s lap, running off. Shane cursed under his breath and took a few deep breaths, giving Ollie a few moments to himself before he went after his son, knowing that he’d headed upstairs. Thank goodness Ollie had all the grace of an elephant when he was upset. He paused outside Ollie’s room, but there was no sign. Shane instead went to his own room, seeing the door of the closet was ajar, and he could hear sniffs coming from within.

He approached slowly, hovering outside the door. “Ollie, bud, it’s me. Can I sit with you?”

“Okay.” Shane lowered himself to the floor just outside the closet, drawing his knees up to his chest. He could hear Ollie crying softly, and it broke his heart but he knew that when Ollie was ready, he’d come out for a hug. “Buddy, I’m so sorry that you’re upset. I am too, and it’s absolutely okay to feel that way.”

It was silent for a moment, then-

“Illy said it was four sleeps ‘til he had to go. He showed me on the callyder.”

“I know he showed you on the calendar, Ol, but sometimes people have to go earlier than they meant to. You know that, right? Sometimes Daddy has to change his flight and drop you with Baaba and Grandpa early, right? And that’s okay.”

Ollie sniffed, and slowly, he crawled out of the closet, settling on the carpet across from Shane instead of in his lap. His little face was red from crying, and his curls were flattened on one side from where he’d been sleeping just a short while ago.

“But you always say bye. Even if I’m sleepy. Even if it’s dark, sometimes you wake me up and kiss my hair. And you tuck me in with Ellie.”

“I do,” Shane agreed, unable to argue with Ollie’s point.

“But Illy didn’t.”

“No, baby, he didn’t. And I’m sorry.”

When Ollie spoke again, his voice was smaller, and Shane’s jaw tightened, fighting hard to keep his composure.

“I thought you was playing, Daddy. I went in Illy’s room and his stuff was gone.” Ollie twisted his fingers together in front of him, still not looking at Shane. “Why didn’t he say bye to me?”

Because he left me too. Because I woke up reaching for him and found emptiness. Because he didn’t love us like we wanted him to.

“I’m really sorry, Ollie,” Shane repeated, like those words were going to do anything at all. He opened his arms, and Ollie hesitated for only a fraction of a second before he crawled into them, burying his face in Shane’s chest. Shane held him close, his body warm against Shane’s, damp cheeks pressed into the shirt he’d pulled on, and felt his own heart breaking even more.

“He should have said goodbye,” Shane whispered into Ollie’s hair, inhaling the familiar apple scent of his shampoo.

“He didn’t give me a hug.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t get another snuggle.”

“I know, Ol, I’m-”

“Did he forget me?”

Shane stilled at the words before he pulled back enough to look in Ollie’s brown eyes.

“No. No, Ollie, never.”

In that moment, Shane had never hated anyone more deeply than he hated Ilya Rozanov. Ollie was just four years old, too young to begin to understand why adults could apparently care for someone and then just disappear by the time you woke up. Shane thought he’d done the right thing, protecting Ollie until he was sure of Ilya, of his intentions. He thought that he’d known Ilya enough to trust him. And Ilya had shattered that entirely.

“I think,” Shane began, clearing his throat as his voice cracked, emotions welling up inside him, “that leaving us felt so hard. It was so hard that maybe Ilya made a bad choice.”

“Like when I have time out?”

“Yeah, kinda like that,” Shane agreed, feeling slightly better now it appeared that Ollie understood. Ollie tucked himself back against Shane’s chest, his thumb in his mouth now which Shane knew was a tell that he was overwhelmed and trying to regulate himself. “You okay, bud?”

Ollie shook his head softly. “Is he coming back?”

“I…” Shane honestly didn’t know how to answer that because… he didn’t know. In all likelihood, they’d seen the last they would of Ilya. “I don’t know.”

Shane just sat there on the bedroom floor, holding his son, the house silent around them as the pair worked through their own versions of loss, Shane still trying to work out why Ilya had thought that this was the best way to deal with things. Ollie’s breathing had finally started to even out against his chest, his sharp little sobs fading into hiccups, then quiet sniffles. Shane kept one hand spread across Ollie’s back, moving it slowly up and down.

Shane rested his cheek against Ollie’s curls and closed his eyes. He could see the note in his mind, just an empty apology written in Ilya’s rushed hand, scrawled in the darkness before he’d walked away. All that Ilya had thought to leave behind.

“Daddy?” Ollie asked a little while later, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes with his small hands.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Can we leave the light in the hallway on tonight, please?”

Shane frowned. Ollie had been able to sleep without the hallway light on for about a year now, the nightlight in his room enough for him to sleep peacefully. But there must be a reason, and Shane was curious.

“Of course we can, if you want to, but can I ask why?”

Ollie sighed, like the weight of the world was on his little shoulders.

“In case my Illy comes back.”

Shane pressed a kiss to the top of Ollie’s head again. “Okay,” he whispered, blinking away his own tears. “Of course we can.”

*****

Shane eventually managed to persuade Ollie downstairs for breakfast, and tried to make him smile by creating smiley pancakes together. He got out Ollie’s apron and helped him cut up some fruit, the two making smiley faces out of the shapes on top of the pancakes, and he even allowed Ollie to have both chocolate spread and maple syrup. It had finally put a smile on Ollie’s face, and he was grateful for small mercies.

Ollie seemed happy enough with his cars beside the Christmas tree, and Shane decided it was time to do some tidying up. He’d left most of it yesterday, determined to not ruin the day with his anxieties over cleanliness, although Ilya had clearly remembered because he’d done his best to discretely tidy up whenever Shane was playing with Ollie. Still, there was always laundry, and Shane dropped a kiss on Ollie’s head before he headed upstairs, changing out of his clothes and into something clean.

He looked over at the rumpled bed and quickly yanked on the bottom sheet, pulling it away from the mattress. It landed with a thud and Shane balled it up, throwing it to the floor before he did the same to the covers. He couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping in a bed he’d shared with Ilya and grabbed a fresh set of covers from the cupboard, putting them on with an anger running through his veins he didn’t experience anywhere other than on the ice.

When he was done, his heart racing in his chest, Shane snatched up the dirty sheets from the floor and paused, seeing the hoodie Ilya had left behind flung into the corner. He grabbed that too and bundled everything into his arms, heading downstairs to the laundry room.

“Just putting the laundry on!” he called to Ollie, but the little boy just nodded as he kept playing with his cars, engrossed in the lines he was creating with them to worry about something boring like laundry. Shane pushed it all into the washer and poured in the washing liquid, slamming the lid shut and turning it on.

He rested his palms on the metal surface and hung his head, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down. The sound of the machine was soothing, and Shane listened to the rhythmic thuds of the items moving around the drum. His sheets. Duvet cover. Pillow cases. The hoodie. The hoodie, that was the only thing he had left that smelled of Ilya.

“Shit, fuck-”

He wrenched the lid open and looked inside. Grey water sloshed from side to side, the sheets grotesquely twisted under the surface of the water, bobbing around. And there, floating at the top… the hoodie. Ilya’s hoodie. No, not Ilya’s hoodie, it was Shane’s. The one he’d lent him weeks ago at the rink, the one Ilya had worn when he’d returned to Ottawa. Like he was showing the world he was Shane’s in some small way.

Ilya had never given it back. And Shane had never asked. Because Shane liked him having it, because maybe it had always given Ilya a reason to come back. And now that was gone. He’d left it behind, purposefully. Like it didn’t matter. Like Ilya didn’t want a single reminder of Shane with him.

Shane reached in, snatching it up before he could think it through. It was sopping wet, heavy in his hands, any remaining scent of Ilya long gone. The water was dripping everywhere, on the machine, down Shane’s arms, onto the floor, soaking into his shirt but he didn't care. He felt something inside of him give way, a pain that he was certain he’d never felt before. Ilya had left so little behind - a note, a cold side of the bed, and now this. A borrowed hoodie that Shane had been stupid enough to think meant something to him. Shane dropped it back inside with a splash and slammed the lid shut again, laughing once, loudly, bitterly.

“Unbelievable.”

His voice cracked with the word, closing his eyes as they stang with a fresh wave of tears. He lowered himself to the floor and rested his forehead on his arms, his sobs muffled by the rhythmic thudding of the sheets in the machine, the whir of the unit filling the silence.

“Daddy, can we- daddy, you okay?”

Shane nodded and scrambled to his feet, turning away to wipe his eyes before he looked back at his son, trying to smile. “Sure. Look at me, I made a mess!”

‘S’okay, I’ll get the mop!” Ollie ran off and returned a moment later wielding the long red mop Shane kept by the back door, the thing far too lengthy for a four year old, and the sight made Shane laugh properly, a wide smile lighting up Ollie’s face. “I can clean, Daddy, don’t panic!”

And Shane just stood there in his laundry room as his precious, beautiful four year old mopped the wet floor around him, doing whatever he could to help while Shane was quietly coming apart at the seams.

“It’s okay, Daddy,” Ollie’s voice said again, like he sensed somehow that Shane needed it, to hear his voice. “I’m helping.”

Shane swallowed around the ache in his throat, nodding. “I know you are, bud. Thank you.”

Ollie looked up then, his cheeks pink, dark curls sticking damply to his forehead, and smiled at Shane like he’d fixed everything. Shane had to look away for a second because he loved this little boy so much it hurt, unable to understand how anyone could ever willingly hurt this bundle of innocence and love in the way Ilya had done.

When he looked back, Ollie was still mopping with complete seriousness, leaving crooked streaks of water behind him. Shane crouched beside him and took the mop lower down the handle, covering Ollie’s tiny hands with his own.

“We make a pretty good team, huh?” he asked, his voice rough.

Ollie beamed.

“The best team. Team Hollander! Just Daddy and Ollie!”

“Just Daddy and Ollie,” Shane repeated, realising that maybe they’d come closer than they’d ever thought of not just being a team of two anymore. They’d made space for someone else. But still… he’d decided not to stay. And it hurt more than Shane could ever say.

That night, Ollie had struggled to fall asleep. They’d had a good day together, going for a long walk in the afternoon when the snow had stopped falling so heavily, and Shane had listened to Ollie chatting away about Santa and what he and elves would be up to now that the Christmas rush was over for another year.

He snapped a few smiling photos of the pair and sent them to his parents, promising to call them later. In a way, he hoped that it would be long after Ollie was asleep, not wanting Ollie to say a single word about Ilya’s disappearance to them. Shane didn’t quite know how to deal with that just yet. They’d eaten together on the floor while watching Rudolph one more time, just because Shane didn’t have the heart to say no to Ollie, not tonight. Not when the boy was already fragile enough.

He’d bathed him and read him a story, but Ollie had insisted on Shane stroking his hair to help him fall asleep. Shne thought he’d finally managed it, but when he got to his feet, Ollie had stirred, his lips trembling as he called out for Shane, stretching his arms out for his dad, like he knew he’d be there to hold him.. Shane had picked him up and taken him into his own bed, tucking him in before he headed downstairs, locking the doors and turning off the lights, giving up on an evening to himself to wallow.

He’d pulled Ollie into his body and stroked his back as he lulled him to sleep, staring into the blackness of the room. Just twenty fours ago, he’d been opening his heart, his home, to a man he thought was worthy of it. He’d trusted someone enough to invite them into his family, he’d allowed his son to get close to Ilya. And Ilya had responded by breaking both of their hearts.

The last time they’d said goodbye, Shane had at least gotten to stand in it with him.

This time, Ilya had taken even that. He’d left him with all the grief and none of the choice.

 

December 31st

“Hey! Hollzy, good to see you!” Troy called out as Shane got out of his car, plastering a smile onto his face. He’d dropped Ollie at his parents earlier in the morning, the little boy eager to see them after a few days apart. He’d taken an enormous bag of Ollie’s favourite Christmas gifts, and he was sure his parents would get a detailed rundown of each of them over the next few hours while he was at practice.

“Hey, Troy. Hope you and Harris had a good Christmas?”

“Yes, really good, thank you.”

Shane rummaged in the trunk of his car, stalling for time and hoping that Troy would head inside and leave him alone for a minute. It had been a really long few days since Ilya had left, and Shane had barely had a moment to get his thoughts straight, let alone actually deal with how the abandonment had made him feel. He stood up, looking over his shoulder and cursing when he saw Troy was still standing there and probably waiting for Shane.

“So… how was it?”

“How was what?”

“Oh come on,” Troy laughed as Shane turned around, leaning against the car and folding his arms over his chest. “How was Christmas with your new favourite human?”

“Fuck off,” Shane cursed, reaching down and picking his bag up, hoping to get moving before Troy could push him any further. It wasn’t something he wanted to talk about at all, let alone in the middle of a bitterly cold parking lot. “It’s freezing out here. Let’s-”

“Hey. I’m sorry, I… is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, Troy, please, just leave it-”

Troy reached out, grabbing Shane’s wrist. “Shane, stop.” He pulled Shane in front of him and Shane fixed his eyes on the floor, unable to bring himself to make eye contact with Troy, something he knew he’d never had a problem with when it came to Ilya. Not that he wanted to think about him right now. “Hey… talk to me, man.” Shane clenched his jaw, shaking his head tightly, hoping that after all these years working together, Troy would understand. “Okay, look. Harris isn’t in for a bit, let’s go and talk in his office.”

Shane paused then nodded, following Troy into the building. Instead of taking the long route to Harris’ office, they took the short one, Troy greeting anyone milling around in the corridors so that Shane could just focus on getting to the sanctity of Harris’ office. Finally, they arrived and Troy opened the door, tapping on his phone as they walked inside.

“Just warning Harris that we’re in here in case he wants to come by earlier. I’ve told him to wait until I tell him we’re done. Sit down, Shane. Let’s talk.”

Shane did as he was told, grateful to not have to think about his actions even just for a moment. Their kit bags were both left to one side, and Troy dragged over a chair, putting it in front of Shane and sitting down, his hands clasped in front of him.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“I’m guessing that something happened if you’re not all full of the joys of spring,” Troy said carefully, and Shane just nodded, keeping his eyes everywhere except on Troy’s. The thought of eye contact was just too much right now when Shane was fighting to keep himself together. “Did Christmas not go well?”

“Oh it went just fine,” Shane admitted with an almost cruel laugh, shaking his head. “We had a lovely Christmas day. We ate a dinner that I cooked and was really proud of. Ollie spent the day playing with all of his new toys.”

“Then why the long face?”

“Because when I woke up the next day, Troy, Ilya was gone. He left and didn’t even say goodbye. He also hasn’t responded to anything I’ve sent him in the last five days.” Shane chanced a look up then, seeing surprise all over Troy’s face. “Yeah, so that kind of ruined everything. Ollie has been sad for the past few days, I’m angry and sad and disappointed and- fuck-” His hands flew up to cover his face, and Shane screwed his eyes up tight, willing the tears not to fall but it was hopeless. “Fuck-”

“Come on, hey. Can I hug you?” Troy asked, and Shane nodded, sinking easily into Troy’s arms as he rushed forward, scooping Shane up as he sobbed, his whole body heaving with it. “That was a really shitty thing for him to do, Shane. You know it’s okay to feel upset and pissed at him, right?”

Shane’s face was still buried in Troy’s neck but he nodded, sniffing as he finally let all of his emotions come out, the ones he’d been holding in for days, trying to put a brave face on for his confused and upset son. “I’m so fucking angry at him, Troy. Everything was going so well, it felt like… like I could be happy, you know? I’m so fucking stupid, thinking I deserved something good-”

“Hey, no. He’s the asshole here, Shane.” Troy tightened his arms around him, one hand steady at the back of Shane’s head. “You deserve good things without having to earn them through suffering first. You deserve to be happy, and safe, and loved without waiting for it to be taken away.”

He pulled back just enough to look Shane in the eye.

“Don’t you dare call yourself stupid for believing in someone. That‘s just being a human, Shane, trusting someone. You’re allowed to be hopeful, to open your heart to people. It’s on him that he ruined that, not on you.”

“Yeah, and look where trusting someone got me,” Shane sniffed, wiping at his eyes with the sleeves of his jersey. “I don’t understand, Troy. He… I think he almost tried to kiss me.”

Troy pulled back from the hug at that, still holding Shane by the shoulders as he stared at him. “He tried to kiss you?”

“Christmas Eve,” Shane said, reaching up and wiping the tears away, a bit embarrassed at letting go of his emotions like that.”We had put Ollie to bed, we were watching TV and… it just happened. I pulled back. stopped it.”

“Hollzyyyyy, why?!”

“Because my son was asleep upstairs, Troy, that’s why. I’ve never done anything with him in the house, not with another person. I couldn’t risk it.”

‘But you wanted to kiss him?”

Shane blushed, scoffing as he looked away again. “Yes, Troy, I wanted to kiss him. But now he’s made it absolutely clear that would’ve been an enormous mistake. I’m just glad I found out that he hasn’t really changed at all.” He paused, blinking at Troy. “Shit, what if that’s why he left? Because he thought I didn’t want him?”

“That’s no excuse, Shane. You were protecting yourself, and Ollie. You don’t owe him anything, let alone a kiss so that he doesn’t walk away.” Troy gave Shane’s shoulder a firm squeeze. “If Iya was that upset about it, that’s on him. He should’ve stayed and had that hard conversation with you, not just disappear and leave you both wondering. You set a boundary for a reason, and he should’ve respected that. That doesn’t make you responsible for him choosing not to stay.”

There was silence for a moment until Troy’s voice quietly cut through. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think this was because you didn’t want him. Anyone with eyes could see how much you cared for him, how excited Ollie was to have him around. If he left, it wasn’t because you aren’t enough, Shane.”

Shane nodded, Troy’s words landing heavily.

“You know it’s okay to be mad at him, and still want to see him again, right?”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t want to see him again?”

“No, I don’t. I’m done. I never should’ve invited him for Christmas, let him back into my life like he fucking belonged there. I should’ve kept him away from Ollie, I should’ve protected him. Now it’s just a mess. I just… I got caught up in the past, in being back in Ilya’s orbit like I never left it.The distance just disappeared the second he walked back in, and everything felt familiar again… like he was always meant to be there beside us. And I believed that. I let myself believe it.”

Shane scoffed, shaking his head feeling anger surging inside of him. “Fuck, Troy, I let him close enough to become part of our lives, like I expected him to just stay. Then he just… he tore through it all like it was nothing. Like all of the trust I handed him meant nothing to him. And that’s what I can’t fucking forgive. Myself. I knew better, and I still let him in. I let him do this to us.”

“Fuck, man, I’m so sorry you feel that way. Look, maybe Ilya just got spooked-”

“I don’t give a shit! That’s not good enough!” Shane yelled, slamming his palms down on the arms of the chair, shaking with rage now. “He should’ve talked to me! He should’ve told me how he was feeling, not run away without even saying goodbye to us. Do you have any idea how fucking devastated Ollie was when he realized Ilya was gone? He fucking blamed himself. It was awful, Troy… he forced me lie to my son. I told him some shit about Ilya needing to get back for hockey, but I’m sure he knew I was lying.”

“What do you need right now, Shane?”

“I need to skate,” Shane stated, his voice the steadiest it had been in a while, blood pumping quickly through his body as his emotions continued to dictate his behaviour. “I need to feel something, I need to hurt in a way that isn’t because I feel like I lost something for the second time. I need to fucking stop thinking about him.”

“Then we’ll skate. You and me, okay? Then we’ll go pick up Ollie, take him for a crappy McDonalds lunch and make him smile, then we’ll fucking destroy Dallas tonight. Sounds good?”

“Fuck yes.”

They both stood up, and Shane let Troy pull him into a hug, relaxing into it for the briefest of moments. “Right. Ice. Bag skates. McDonalds.”

As he hit the ice, Shane’s mind went blank. He didn’t need to think about what his feet were doing, how hard his body was working because it just did. Skating was second nature to him now and he circled around the rink a few times as Troy chatted to Harris, who had arrived a little while after Troy and Shane were done talking. Troy must’ve warned Harris off because he’d just given Shane a wave and walked away from the rink towards his office, but Shane appreciated the fact he was being left alone.

Some of the other team members drifted in after a while but Troy and Wiebe took up the leadership roles, giving Shane time to do whatever he needed to do, greeting each of his teammates before skating away, making it obvious he was by himself for now. He was grateful that for now, nobody had asked him about the pictures he’d posted on Instagram, or how his Christmas had been. A few had asked about Ollie, but Shane would never begrudge having a conversation about his son.

When they were done with practice, and Shane was feeling sick from the bag skates Wiebe had put him and the rest of the Centaurs through, they headed back towards Yuna and David’s place in Shane’s car. He felt strange, sitting next to Troy when just days before, it had been Ilya in the passenger seat, the pair of them looking forward to sharing the holidays together, but this was more realistic… this was Shane’s life. Ilya wasn’t part of it now, and Shane was starting to accept that he never would be.

“Daddy, why we going to McDonalds?”

“My idea, little man,” Troy grinned, turning around and poking his tongue out at Ollie who was in the back seat, strapped into his car seat. “Thought you could do with a treat, am I right?”

“Yeah, Uncle Troy! Can I have nuggets please?”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Troy grinned as Shane pulled into the parking lot. He was barely able to get out from behind the wheel when Troy was hopping out, pulling Ollie out of his car seat and holding his hand. “What are you having, Daddy?”

“Troy, I’ve told you not to call me that, you know it weirds me out,” Shane laughed, grateful to Troy for being there for him right now. “Shane is fine, even in front of Ollie. And I’ll be getting a salad.”

Troy pulled Ollie to a halt and the two just stared at Shane with expressions of horror so alike, it was almost uncanny. “We’re at McDonald’s, Shane. You are not ordering a salad.”

“Yeah, Daddy, salad is boring rabbit food.”

For a moment, Shane froze, hearing those words in a memory, in a Russian accent. He swallowed, nodding. “Sorry, you’re right. Maybe just a grilled chicken wrap.”

“I’m getting nuggets and fries and a coke!”

“You’re not getting a coke,” Shane corrected, ruffling Ollie’s hair and ignoring his pout as they walked inside. “You can get milk or apple juice.”

“Well, you’re not my daddy so I’m getting a Big Mac, fries and coke,” Troy said with a wicked grin, winking at Shane. “You two go and sit down. I’ll get this, my treat.” Shane went to protest but Troy shook his head. “Cap… let me get us lunch, okay? Go sit with Ollie.”

Shane agreed and found a seat, pulling Ollie into the booth next to him. Troy was in the queue so Shane opened up the photo Hayden had sent him earlier of Arthur and Amber playing in the snow filled tree house at the bottom of the Pike’s back garden.

“Uncle Hayden sent me this picture this morning… look at Arthur’s tree house!”

“Wow, so cool! Can we see him soon?”

Shane nodded, knowing the Centaurs were due to play an away game against Montreal in ten days time. “Yeah, I thought I’d ask Baaba and Grandpa if they’d bring you to Montreal to watch the game. We could go out to dinner with Uncle Hayden and Aunt Jackie… does that sound good?” Instead of the enthusiastic reply Shane expected, he just got a nod. Ollie stared off into the distance, and Shane locked his phone, laying it face down on the table next to him. “Ollie… you okay?”

Ollie just shrugged, and when he spoke, his voice was small, like he was almost afraid of the words he was saying. “Was it my fault?”

Shane frowned, trying to understand where this had suddenly come from. “Was what your fault, Ol?”

“That Illy left? Was I bad?”

Shane looked out of the window then, trying to compose himself. Deep down, he knew that there was no way Ilya meant to hurt Ollie when he had left but he’d hurt him all the same, perhaps not even thinking about the impact his leaving would have on the four year old. He slowly turned back to Ollie, tucking two fingers under Ollie’s chin and encouraging him to look at Shane. Ollie had been doing this for the past few days, bringing up Ilya leaving without warning, but it didn’t get any easier.

“Hey. Absolutely not, okay? Come on, I thought we talked about this, Ol. I told you that Ilya had to get back to his team.”

“But he didn’t say goodbye.”

“Remember, bud? He had an early flight, he was really sorry that he had to sneak out,” Shane said, hating every lying word pouring from his lips.

“Can I call him later? I want to show him the picture I coloured in.”

“I think he’s probably busy, but maybe you could call Uncle Hayden?”

“Uncle Hayden doesn’t like Ferrari’s, Daddy. Illy does, he got one.”

“I know. Look, how about I take a picture of your drawing and we send it to Ilya, okay? Oh, here comes Troy with your lunch.”

They ate and chatted about anything, Shane leaving most of the conversation up to Troy and Ollie as he couldn’t stop the little boy’s words going around his mind on a loop. He hated to think that Ollie was blaming himself in any way for what happened with Ilya, because it couldn’t be further from the truth. The only person to blame here was Ilya, and Shane so badly wanted to put it right, to find out exactly what the hell Ilya had been thinking when he upped and left without so much as a backward glance.

Shane barely tasted a thing as he ate the chicken wrap, while Troy and Ollie inhaled their meals like they hadn’t eaten for days. When he was done, Ollie asked if he could go and play in the playzone so Shane nodded, watching as he sprinted off, joining in with two boys around the same age as he was in the ball pit.

Troy watched Shane with knowing eyes, liked he sensed something was up. Sometimes, it scared Shane how well his best friend knew him. But right now, he was grateful to have troy in his corner. He was going to need him.

“Why do I think you’re brewing something?”

“Because my son is blaming himself for that Russian asshole leaving in the middle of the night,” Shane said, not holding back now. Ilya could mess with Shane all he liked. Fine. Shane was an adult, he could deal with the hurt. But Ollie was a little boy with big feelings, and he didn’t deserve to be messed around with like this. “I need to talk to Ilya.”

“Then call him,” Troy suggested, and Shane just rolled his eyes, checking Ollie was okay before he spoke again.

“You think I haven’t tried? He keeps sending my call to voicemail. Hell, he might even have me blocked at this point, I don’t know. Either way, we need to talk about this. I deserve answers.”

“Oh, right. So what do you want to do? Ambush the guy?”

Shane smirked. “We have a bye week after our Montreal game, right?”

“Yeah. Wait. Shane, no…”

“Shane, yes,” Shane stated confidently, enjoying the small smile crossing Troy’s face at his remark. One way or another, he was going to get the answers he and Ollie deserved. Ilya wasn’t going to get to walk into their lives, let them love him, and then disappear without a word like none of it mattered.

“I’m going to California. And you’re coming with me.”

Troy went to interrupt but Shane held up a hand, stopping him.

“Because if Ilya’s going to break our hearts, he can damn well do it to my face.”

TO BE CONTINUED...

Chapter End Notes

BAMF Protective Daddy Shane is HERE.

Watch out, Ilya....

Sunday. See you there. 🫡

Chapter 11

Chapter Summary

Big screen and bigger feelings.

It can’t wait until morning...

Promise.

Chapter Notes

I'm so nervous about this. I actually feel sick about everyone reading this and hating it.

If you do, just don't tell me.

Just understand Shane knows his own mind and is making his own decisions.

Thank you for all the support, all the comments. It means the world.

I look forward (I think) to hearing what you think about this one. x

January 12th
California

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Troy asked as the pair of them headed into the rink, home of the Anaheim Hammerheads. They were surrounded by fans dressed in Hammerheads jerseys, some of the names recognisable to Shane while others were not. Surprisingly, there were a few with Rozanov on them too, even though he’d only played two seasons on the ice for the team years ago, but Shane supposed a legacy like Ilya’s was long lasting, no matter how he was still involved in hockey.

“I mean, probably not my best idea ever, but I have to try something,” Shane said, heading in through the turnstiles like any other patron. It was actually quite exciting to be on this fan side of a hockey game, and he made sure to stop Troy to get them both a drink before they headed for the seats he’d booked online just a few days ago. They weren’t in a particularly great spot, but Shane knew from where he was sitting that he could see the coaches and the teaam benches.

The game was exciting, and Shane and Troy both got a little too into it, on their feet and cheering every time the Hammerheads got control of the puck, even though they had no particular allegiance to either of the teams playing. The Hammerheads were up 3-1 by the end of the second period, and Shane had just returned from the washroom, trying to keep a low profile amongst the many hockey fans milling around. They’d purposely not worn anything hockey related to stop themselves attracting attention, and Shane thought it was going well so far.

“So what’s the plan?”

“I’m going to text him after the game, now that I know he’s here tonight,” Shane revealed, sending a thumbs up emoji to his mum, who had text to say that Ollie was sound asleep. “Ask if we can meet up to talk.”

“Shane… I hate to say this, but I have to play devil’s advocate here. What if he ignores you or refuses to meet you?”

“Then I’ll go to the front desk and ask to see him. I’m not leaving Anaheim without seeing him, Troy. I’ve come this far, I’m not going back to Ollie without real answers.”

The pair laughed and cheered as the kiss cam came onto the big screen, and they watched as countless couples kissed each other for the public spectacle. The announcer welcomed some of the special guests of the Hammerheads, the crowd cheering for each of them as their faces flashed up on the big screen, waving happily to the arena.

“And our fans have spotted two other famous faces from the hockey world in our audience tonight… please welcome Two Time Stanley cup winners, Captain Shane Hollander and Alternate Captain Troy Barrett of the Ottawa Centaurs!”

Shane and Troy both got a much bigger reception than either of them were expecting, and they sighed, getting to their feet and waving to the camera, their faces splashed onto the big screen.

“So much for staying under the radar,” Troy muttered as they sat back down, but Shane’s eyes were fixed on the bench where the Coaches were sitting, all in a row. The teams were just taking to the ice, and Shane could see Ilya from where he was sitting, concentrating as he spoke to the man to his right. Shane knew that Ilya would’ve seen him on the screen, but he wished he knew if there’d been a reaction.

By the end of the game, Shane was thrumming with nerves. The Hammerheads had won 4-2 and the mood at the rink was full of excitement. Troy and Shane remained in their seats as everyone started to exit around them, and they were somehow unsurprised when a few young fans asked them for photos and autographs, both obliging and signing whatever they were asked to.

“When are you going to text him?”

“Now,” Shane replied, pulling out his phone and tapping out a message. “Does this sound okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. To the point. Not overly friendly or mean. Send it now, before you chicken out.”

“I won’t. This is what I came here for,” Shane replied as he decisively hit send, the message winging its way to Ilya’s phone. He was surprised when less than five minutes later, his phone buzzed twice in a row. “Shit.”

“Holy shit…” Shane breathed out, moving his phone so that Troy could see the message. “You think that’s his place?”

Troy nodded. “I expect so. You want to go over there?”

“Yeah, if he’d rather talk there than the hotel. Fuck, Troy. Can we go for a walk or something? I need to move.”

They made their way outside and headed for the main street, hands shoved in their pockets as they walked silently, joining the main crowd making their way into town after the game. It wasn’t cold but Shane had goosebumps all over his body from the anticipation of being face to face with Ilya again, unsure how this was going to go.

“I’m scared, Troy," Shane confessed as the time ticked on, closer to when he’d be face to face with Ilya again. “I’m scared he’s going to tell me that this was a mistake. That he thinks we’re better off out of each other's lives. That he… that he isn’t sorry for hurting us.”

“I’m sure that’s definitely not the case, but if that is what he wants, you need to respect that. But I know you know that, Shane,” Troy said gently. “Look. Just be honest with him. Tell him how you feel. That you’re pissed at him for what he did, but that the feelings from all those years ago have never really gone away for you. That you thought you felt something between you again.”

“And that I think he’s a fucking asshole for doing what he did, especially to Ollie.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

They found an open cafe, and Shane ordered a green tea while Troy got a coffee, the pair sitting at a table on the sidewalk, waiting until it was time for Shane to leave and meet Ilya.

“Let me come with you, Cap. You don’t know how he’s going to react, and I think it’s best if you have someone there with you.”

Shane just arched an eyebrow at him, lowering his mug. “You think I can’t handle myself with Rozanov, Barrett?”

“No, I do. Especially if you’re fired up over Ollie. But I don’t want him to take advantage of you and how you feel.”

“I told you, I just want answers, that’s all I’m going there for. I appreciate you looking out for me, Troy-”

“I mean, if I was there, you wouldn’t have to get your hands dirty, is all I’m saying.”

Shane couldn’t help but laugh. “Fucking hell, Troy, nobody needs to get hurt, okay? I promise you, if things get shitty, I’ll leave, and I’ll call you. But please trust me when I say that I can do this by myself. It’s Ilya. He might have behaved stupidly, but he’d never physically hurt me. And there isn’t much more damage he can do to my heart right now, so it’s fine. I’ll be alright.”

Troy sighed, like he realised Shane wasn’t going to change his mind on this. “Fine. But I’ve put his address in my phone so if you need me, text me and I’ll order a Lyft and come get you, okay?”

“Thank you, man.” Shane smiled at Troy’s words, then he felt Troy grip his forearm through the thin layer of his jacket, grateful he was here with him.

“Be honest with him, Shane. That’s all you can do.”

The car ride over to Ilya’s place felt too long, and Shane was a bundle of nerves as the car pulled up at the sidewalk. He thanked the driver and climbed out, looking up at the house. It was exactly the sort of place he expected Ilya to live in, somehow the opposite of Shane and Ollie’s home in Ottawa, but not in a bad way. The driveway was long but Shane walked up, smiling in spite of himself at the sight of three of Ilya’s cars parked together in front of the house.

He walked up to the door and took a breath, pressing on the doorbell. He could hear it ringing inside the house and took a step back. When the door opened, Shane jumped and looked right into the eyes of Ilya Rozanov, but it wasn’t like before. This time, the blue eyes were cold, devoid of emotion, with no smile present at all.

“Come in.”

Shane did, and allowed his eyes to roam around as he heard Ilya close the door behind him.

“Do I need to take my shoes off?”

“No, you’re good.” Ilya turned and headed off down a long hallway without saying another word, and Shane took that as a cue to follow. The house was enormous, and Shane couldn’t stop himself from looking around as they walked through, coming to a stop inside a large kitchen, all marble and black cabinets. Ilya was standing with his back to a large marble island, arms folded across his chest, his expression unreadable. “What do you want, Shane?”

“Really? That’s how you’re going to start? How about I’m sorry, Shane. I’m sorry I ran away and ruined Christmas? How about I’m sorry I upset Ollie so much he could hardly sleep?”

“Shane-”

“No, you’re going to shut up and listen to me. What you did was the fuckiest shittiest thing you could have done to us, Ilya. It would be one thing if you just left me. I could’ve dealt with it, but what I cannot bear is how much you hurt my son. You accepted an invitation to my home, Ollie’s home, you spent time with him, you made him believe that you care about him-”

“I do care, I didn’t-”

“I’m talking. I said shut up.” Shane watched as Ilya stared at him, nodding as his mouth closed, doing exactly as Shane said. “I haven’t brought anyone into Ollie’s life for this reason, Ilya. I was so scared of him getting hurt. But I stupidly thought that I could trust you. That you wouldn’t do that to him. But you did, and at Christmas. You posted pictures to your fucking Instagram at my home, you let me post pictures of you like this meant something.”

“Shane-”

“Seriously. Interrupt me again and I’m gone. For good, this time. I mean it, Ilya.”

Ilya nodded meekly, and Shane carried on, powered by the rage that had been simmering under the surface for weeks now, unleashing every bit of it onto Ilya.

“We’ve done this before. We said goodbye, and I got over it. But that was different. Last time we made the choice together, Ilya. Together. We talked it through, we fought about it, we broke our own hearts over it, sure, but we made it together. We looked each other in the eye and we both got a say in how it ended. This time you took that from me. You decided on your own and disappeared like I didn’t deserve a conversation. Like I didn’t deserve the chance to argue with you, or ask you to stay, or tell you not to do this. You left before I could say anything at all. You took my choice away.”

Ilya had the grace to look shamefaced, and Shane watched as he wiped at his nose,his tell that things were getting uncomfortable. Good. That was exactly how Shane wanted him to feel. In the thick of it, like he’d been for the past few weeks, getting his son through a pain he shouldn’t have had to understand.

“You took my chance to fight for us. My chance to be angry to your face. My chance to say goodbye. And worse? You took Ollie’s. You left while he was asleep, Ilya. You walked out of that house without kissing his forehead, without hugging him, without even letting him wake up to see you go, and then you let me wake up to a shitty note and a hoodie you couldn’t be bothered to take with you. Like you didn’t want to take a single reminder of me.“

“So these are reasons you turn up at my game, putting your face on big screen?”

“Don’t you dare turn this around on me, Ilya. I didn’t fucking ask them to do that. Troy and I didn’t tell anyone that we were here. But it’s a fucking hockey game, so yeah, people spotted us.”

“You had no right to do that.”

Shane knew he was deflecting, but still, he was getting more pissed off. “I did when you’ve been ignoring me since you left, I half assumed you’d blocked my number, even. I thought that if you weren’t going to talk to me and give me the answers that I needed, I’d come to you and get them. So don’t you dare blame this on me.”

Ilya’s jaw tightened, and he just stared at Shane, fury flashing across his face for a brief moment. “You want answers?”

Shane nodded, folding his arms across his chest. “Yeah, I do.”

“I left because I had to.”

Shane scoffed, shaking his head. “Bullshit.”

“Is not bullshit,” Ilya replied, his expression betraying nothing as he stared Shane down..

“Then what was it?” Shane snapped, running a hand through his hair. He felt unsettled in the worst way, like his skin was crawling. “Because from where I was standing, one day you were with us, in our home, smiling for photos with my family like you belonged there, and then you were gone. No goodbye, no real apology. Nothing, just a shitty vague note that broke my fucking heart.”

Ilya flinched at Shane’s words, but he couldn’t bring himself to care right now.

“You let me talk to my friends about you. You had me defending you to my son, Ilya, checking my phone every fucking ten minutes to see if this was all a fucking nightmare and that you were going to come back to us.” Shane jabbed a finger at Ilya’s chest. “You fucking ruined everything.”

Ilya caught Shane’s wrist in a firm grip, not hurting but enough that Shane couldn’t pull back easily.

“You think this was easy for me?” Ilya said quietly.

“Let go of me,” Shane insisted, trying to yank his arm free.

“No, Shane. You-”

“You what? Because do you know what I had to do, Ilya? I had to stand and listen as my son sobbed and asked me why you didn’t say goodbye to him. Do you understand what you left me alone to deal with? You left me having to look my little boy in the eye and explain why the person he loves vanished in the night.”

Ilya flinched at that, like the words physically hurt him before he shocked Shane, schooling his face and almost shrugging.

“I-” His voice caught immediately, and he stopped, shaking his head once as if he didn’t know how to finish his sentence. “I didn’t think it would feel like that. He’s four. I did not think it would be a big deal-”

“You fucking asshole-” Shane snarled, the words ripping out of him before he slammed into Ilya and grabbed a handful of his shirt, driving him back hard enough that his shoulders drove into the wall with a sharp crack. Ilya was stunned but he didn’t resist, breathing hard while Shane shoved him harder, knuckles digging into Ilya’s chest like he wanted to hurt him.

“Don’t you fucking dare dismiss his feelings because he’s four years old,” Shane hissed, his voice low and furious, almost shaking. “Don’t stand there and act like what he feels doesn’t matter because he’s young. He’s a person, Ilya, and he’s hurting. Because of you. And if you can’t see that, then what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Hit me, Hollander. I deserve it. It’ll make you feel better. Go on.”

Shane gave a short, disbelieving laugh, but it had no humour in it. He released his fists, taking a step back from Ilya but staying close enough that it was almost uncomfortable. “Fuck you. So come on. What did you think it would feel like to leave us behind?”

Ilya’s eyes flickered up, and there was something raw there now.

“I thought…” Ilya started, then stopped again, jaw tightening as he tried to steady himself. “I thought if I stayed for goodbye, I wouldn’t be able to leave at all. And I should have. I should have stayed anyway. I should have looked at him. I should have held him. I know that. I know that, Shane.” His breath shook. “I just… when I woke up, I couldn’t trust myself with so much happiness.”

“I’m sorry,” Ilya continued. “I am so sorry. I know that doesn’t fix it. I know it doesn’t give him his goodbye back. I know it doesn’t undo what you had to do that morning.”

He paused, the silence almost pleading without meaning to be.

“I did not mean to take your choice,” Ilya added, echoing what Shane had said earlier. “I did not mean to take his.”

“You were scared of staying long enough to say goodbye,” Shane said, his control starting to crack at the edges so he took another step back away from the man in front of him before he took him up on his offer to hit him. “So instead you made a decision that meant you didn’t have to feel it. And I had to feel it for both of us.”

The air between them was heavy, and Shane finally felt like he was being heard.

“I need the truth about how you feel, Ilya, because I never fucking moved on. Not for a second, not since we were kids. You drive me out of my mind, you always have, but it’s always been you. And I hate that sometimes. I hate that I can’t just… find someone else, someone easier, someone who doesn’t get under my skin the way you do. But I just can’t, because I’m stuck in your fucking orbit. So don’t stand there and say nothing - tell me what the hell is going on.”

Shane paused, taking a breath, seeing how Ilya’s body was filled with tension again, looking down at the floor, eyes flitting up occasionally to look at Shane.

“Because if you don’t want me…” Shane continued, quieter now but no less raw, “then fine. I’ll survive it. I’ll break and I’ll put myself back together, same as I’ve always done. But what I can’t do, no, what I won’t do, is stand here and let my four-year-old son think this is his fault. I won’t let him wonder why you left and decide it’s because he was bad, that he wasn’t enough. I won’t let him carry that just because you couldn’t say the truth out loud.”

Ilya visibly deflated at that, and he looked up, devastation clear on his face.

“I warned you, Ilya, I fucking warned you that he gets attached. You said that you got it, that you understood, but you still broke his fucking heart.” Not to mention mine went unsaid.

“Wait. Ollie- he blame himself?”

“Yeah, Ilya, he does. He asked me… he asked if you left because he was bad.”

“Blyat.” Shane didn’t know much Russian but he knew that term. Fuck. “I did not mean for this.”

“I know. And I think that makes it worse, because you just didn’t even consider his feelings when you left. So, why, Ilya? Why did you do it?”

“Because if I stayed,” Ilya said, his voice cracking, eyes filling with tears, “I was not going to leave at all.”

“Ilya-”

“I left because I did not know how to stay without it ruining both of us. You are so happy, you have a good life, Shane,” Ilya said, and Shane nodded, leaning back against the tall glass windows, not giving Ilya a moment of peace. “You and Ollie are family, so close. I saw that and think… I cannot ruin this.”

“So why didn’t you talk to me instead of running away like we were something you needed to escape from? You were so concerned I was embarrassed of you but you run the first moment that it’s no longer easy for you to justify in your own mind.”

Ilya flinched at that, but Shane was pleased he didn’t seem to back down from their conversation. “Because you would tell me I am wrong. Shane, you build a life with Ollie. A great, brilliant life. I do not fit into it.”

“Says who?”

Ilya exhaled heavily, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “I have never had real family, Shane. You know my family in Russia is… not good people, except my mama. I could not…” Ilya paused, as if he was searching for the right words, “taint your family with me. I do not know how to be so happy.”

“Oh, Ilya…” The fight almost instantly went out of Shane, and he couldn’t stop himself from moving towards Ilya, into his space. “You need to stop blaming yourself for your family, for how they treated you. You weren’t to blame, they were. They treated you terribly, but that’s a reflection on them. You deserve so much more than what they ever gave you. And you deserve happiness. Please believe me when I say that.”

“Maybe so. But you have Ollie, your parents, Centaurs. I have job, team. Cars, expensive house. You have more.. Things that truly mean something in a life. A family. Home. Love. I have nothing of meaning. Nothing I would be sad to lose.”

“You had us, Ilya,” Shane said softly, his voice small. ”You’ve always had me.”

“I try to kiss you, Shane,” Ilya mumbled, looking at the floor, refusing to meet Shane’s eyes. “I thought we had moment but you pull away. I feel I read everything wrong. I thought you did not want me. That I am not… good, for you, or for Ollie.”

“Ilya, no,” Shane said, longing to reach out and hold Ilya’s hand, to support him. “I told you, that was because Ollie was asleep upstairs, believe me, it was not because I didn’t want to kiss you. Because I did. So fucking much.”

Ilya looked up then, clearly stunned by Shane’s revelation. Honesty felt like the only way forward now, and Shane knew he wanted to put everything on the line because he had to know once and for all if this was what Ilya wanted.

“Ilya… I don’t know why it’s taken me ten fucking years to realise this, but… you’re my home. You became my home in that stupid hotel gym on draft night, you’re the only person who ever really understood what it’s like to be me… to be us. I was chasing that feeling and never finding it with anyone else because it was just you, Ilya. You are what I could never find in someone else, and I never wanted to settle for anything else than how I felt with you.”

Shane’s voice wobbled, and he met Ilya’s eyes, stepping closer. “You make every place feel like home for me. And I hate how much time we’ve lost pretending otherwise.”

“And if you still think you’re tainted, or that you don’t fit into my family, like there isn’t a place there for you… then let me be the one who proves you wrong. Let me be the one who shows you how completely you belong with me.”

Something in Ilya broke at that. The next thing Shane knew, Ilya was on him - closing the distance in two quick strides and crashing his mouth against Shane’s with bruising desperation. His hands gripped Shane’s face tightly, almost shaking, as if letting go wasn’t an option, as if Shane might slip through his fingers if he did.

The kiss was frantic, trying to say everything that words couldn’t. Shane parted his lips as Ilya’s tongue sought out his own, both of them moaning as Ilya pushed Shane backwards, his head colliding against the window with a loud thud, not that Shane noticed any kind of pain. Ilya rocked his pelvis forward, grinding against Shane and he gasped, tilting his head to the side as Ilya sucked at the skin of his neck, no doubt leaving a mark but Shane couldn’t bring himself to care right now, lost in the feeling of Ilya surrounding him entirely, caging him in.

“Fuck, Shane-” Ilya said, his voice low and raspy against Shane’s neck, one hand up against the glass as he pushed himself against Shane’s body, keeping Shane pinned in place, unable to move. “You terrify me.”

“I- Why?”

“Because I have big feelings for you,” Ilya admitted, reaching down between their bodies and pressing his palm against where Shane was getting hard in the confines of his jeans. “Because I am terrified to want this.”

Shane rested a palm against Ilya’s chest, pushing him back just enough they could look at each other, their foreheads touching. “And what is it you want? I need to know, Ilya. You need to say it.”

Ilya didn’t even hesitate, the words tumbling uncensored from his lips.

“You. Us. Has always been you, even when we say years ago is safer to stop. When I had to love you goodbye. I said okay but…” he bit on his lip, eyes lowering as he spoke softly, “I would have blown my life apart for you if you had asked... I still would.”

“Then show me, Ilya.”

Ilya didn’t need telling twice. The sounds they made filled the otherwise silent room, and Shane managed a whisper of ‘oh my god’ as Ilya reached down, grabbing him by the thighs and hoisting him into his arms. Shane was a big man, strong and solid, but he felt so small in Ilya’s arms, his feet hooked around Ilya’s back as they stumbled down the hall towards a bedroom, kissing all the way.

“Wait, just- wait,” Shane said as Ilya let him down, the pair stumbling into the room, but immediately, Ilya backed off, holding Shane’s hips as he looked at him. “I’m sorry, I can’t just- jump into this.”

“I understand. I am sorry, I did not mean to make you feel like this is all I want-”

“You didn’t. Fuck, no Ilya. I just… I need some time. Please?” He leaned in, kissing Ilya gently. “I’m not running away, okay? I just need some time.”

Ilya took Shane’s hand and walked them out, guiding him down to another room, gently opening the door. “If you want to stay, you can sleep here. Is clean. I can get you clothes.”

“I’ll stay, if you don’t mind. I think it would be good to talk more in the morning.”

Ilya nodded and hesitated, like he wanted to say something but instead he smiled, turning and disappearing before he reappeared a moment later with shorts and a tank in his hands.

“This time, you can wear my clothes, yes?”

Shane smiled as he accepted the items, setting them on the bed. “Give me a hug, Ilya.” He wrapped his arms tightly around Ilya’s waist as they stood chest to chest and hugged, Ilya holding him almost a touch too painfully but Shane couldn’t bring himself to say a word. He released the hug first, and Ilya leaned in, brushing his lips against Shane’s cheek.

“Goodnight, Shane. If you need anything, just… help yourself. You can have anything.” There was a vulnerability to his words, and Shane just nodded, watching as Ilya turned and left him alone, closing the door behind him.

Shane sat heavily on the edge of the bed, looking around. The decor was fairly impersonal, some abstract art prints on the wall breaking up the bland colour scheme, and Shane idly wondered if Ilya had bothered to decorate it by himself at all. Probably not.

Shane texted Troy and explained that he’d be staying with Ilya for the night, that he was in the guest room, that they’d talked things through. He didn’t give away that they’d kissed, or that they’d all but admitted they wanted each other, that was a conversation he’d rather have face to face. But Troy was encouraging, telling Shane that if he was happy, that was all that mattered.

Shane was more than used to sleeping in strange places. He was used to anonymous hotel rooms up and down the country, so a new environment shouldn’t bother him so much. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t that which was keeping him awake. For two hours, he lay there, trying to force sleep to come. But all he could think of was the man asleep down the hallway, the man who, despite everything, Shane was certain he loved with all of his heart.

They’d wasted nearly ten years apart. Ten years when Shane had tried to forget him, to move on and find happiness in other ways. He’d done that with Ollie, but there’d always been something missing. Now it was quite clear that the missing part was Ilya, and he was under the same roof. Shane was done waiting.

He swung his legs around and climbed quietly out of bed, leaving his phone on the bedside table. The hallway was pitch black as he opened the door, Ilya having no need for nightlights in his house. Cautiously, Shane walked down the hall, his hand on the wall to guide him until he came to a stop outside the bedroom Ilya had carried him into before. Reaching up, he rapped his knuckles gently on the wood.

He had a feeling Ilya would be asleep so he gently opened the door, surprised to see the man laying down, his face lit up with the glow of his phone. He turned and looked surprised to see Shane, quickly sitting up and reaching for the bedside lamp, all too reminiscent of just a few weeks ago in Shane’s own bedroom.

“Come here,” Shane whispered, and he watched as Ilya did so immediately, coming to stand in front of Shane in his own shorts and tank, linking their fingers lightly together. “Ilya…”

“Oh, my Shane…”

“Don’t you ever hurt me again,” Shane said, his voice wobbling with emotion as he reached up, cupping Ilya’s cheek with his hand, realising he was reaching the point of no return. “Promise me, Ilya. If we do this,” Shane continued, his mouth dry, “there is no going back. I can’t do this again and say goodbye, Ilya, and I can’t ask Ollie to let you go twice, so if this is not what you really want, tell me right now.”

“No more goodbyes. Never, not for you or Ollie. I promise, just… let me have privilege of being yours, Shane. Please? Is all I’ve ever wanted.”

Shane nodded and let Ilya pull him slowly towards the bed, each move careful, like he was giving Shane an out if he needed one. He turned them and let Shane lay down, shuffling into the middle of the bed while Ilya just looked at him, like he couldn’t believe Shane was real.

“Come here, Ilya. Make me feel like I belong to you.”

Their lips came together in a kiss that truly took Shane’s breath away. It was everything Shane wanted, and he moaned, pulling Ilya down on top of him as they kissed, finally on the same page. The air in the room turned heavy, and Shane tangled his fingers in Ilya’s curls, almost in disbelief that this was happening now, here in Ilya’s bed. He finally had the man he’d wanted since he was seventeen. This time, he wasn’t letting him go again.

Ilya pushed up onto his knees and reached for the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it to the floor. Shane laid exactly where he was as Ilya wriggled out of his shorts, hard inside his boxers that were barely concealing anything at this point. Ilya palmed at himself, dark eyes focused only on Shane.

“I am so sorry, Shane. I will spend forever making it up to you.”

“I know. I know you are. I want to forgive you, I do.”

Ilya smiled and nodded, tucking his fingers into the waistband of Shane’s pants.

“Your turn, moya lyubov.”

“You do it,” Shane whispered, and Ilya groaned, pushing Shane’s knees apart and falling down between his legs, kissing him like he meant it. Hands were up and under Ilya’s tank that Shane was wearing, and Ilya’s hands felt hot against his skin, touching in places nobody had paid attention to in far too long. The shirt was quickly pushed over his head and the pair were soon skin to skin, only their underwear separating them now. Shane suddenly felt shy and looked to the side, but Ilya had caught it, as always.

“Hey… what is wrong?”

“Just… you’ve not seen me like… this, in a while. I don’t- I don’t want to be a disappointment.”

“You could never,” Ilya reassured him, scooting up onto his knees, gently pulling Shane’s hands away from where he was covering himself. “I saw you in locker room in Ottawa, Shane. Now I want to see all of you, moyo solnyshko. Please.”

The way Ilya’s eyes darkened as he took in the sight of Shane’s body told him all he needed to know. Shane held his breath as Ilya’s fingers slipped into the waist of his underwear, pulling them down until they were both bare. Before he knew it, Ilya was leaning down and kissing him, hands roaming around Shane’s body like it was his to take care of, to treasure and worship.

His hand slipped down and between Shane’s legs, but Ilya pulled back from the kiss, whispering against Shane’s lips.

“Is it okay if I touch you here?”

“Please-” Shane begged, his voice high and needy, but he couldn’t quite care, not when Ilya’s fingers were pressing gently against him, hinting at what they’d hopefully be doing soon enough. Ilya reached up and into the bedside drawer, grabbing a bottle of lube and a condom, laying them on the bed next to Shane. Their hard dicks were pressed together, and it was almost too much for Shane already.

“So beautiful, Shane…”

“Ilya, do something,” Shane pleaded, throwing back his head as Ilya opened the bottle of lube and slicked up his fingers. Ilya then ran a lubed finger around his entrance, pressing until the tip slipped in. Shane hadn’t had sex with anyone like this in years now, and although he had his own toys to satisfy himself, it was totally different for this to be in someone else’s control. Ilya’s finger was warm and thick, and he kept pressing kisses across Shane’s neck and chest, sucking his nipple between his lips as he worked it in deeper, letting Shane’s body adjust to the intrusion.

“Is okay?”

“Fuck, yes, it’s so good. I want to touch you-”

Suddenly, Ilya’s finger was gone, and he adjusted their bodies, Ilya coming to lay by Shane’s side on the bed. Shane planted his feet on the bed, his knees apart as Ilya’s hand slipped between his legs again and resumed where it had been before, Shane’s own right hand wrapped around Ilya’s dick, stroking firmly as they kissed and stared into each other’s eyes. It was intense but in the best way.

“Blyat, Shane- don’t make me come.”

“I’ll try,” Shane said breathlessly as Ilya pushed in another finger along with the first. It was a burn, the stretch quite a lot but he breathed through it, kissing Ilya and looking into Ilya’s eyes as they worked each other up, for once not feeling like this was something forbidden, something they shouldn’t have. Shane wanted this more than he’d maybe wanted anything in his life, and he wanted it now. “Ilya, now, please-”

“Another finger-”

“No, I’m good. I want you. I want to feel it, please?” Ilya looked at Shane for the briefest of moments before he nodded, gently slipping his fingers out and wiping them on the sheet. “Are you sure you want this? …me?”

“So sure, I promise."

Ilya smiled, nodding at Shane’s assertion. “How do you want it?”

Shane thought about it for all of a few seconds. “You on top. I want to see you.”

Ilya nodded and rolled on a condom before he moved to kneel between Shane’s legs, kissing down his chest, his stomach, the tip of his cock before he sat up, positioning himself. He looked between what he was doing and Shane’s face until finally, he was pushing inside. Shane’s fingers scrabbled to grab the sheet underneath him, the burn almost painful until Ilya was fully buried inside him.

“Fuck-”

“You okay?”

Shane hummed agreement as he nodded, reaching up to bring Ilya down into a kiss. Always considerate, Ilya kept his movements slow and gentle until Shane’s body became used to it, letting Ilya in like he belonged there. It was a lot and Shane felt almost overwhelmed, Ilya filling every part of his senses in a way he hadn’t since they were at least ten years younger. They’d always communicated through sex, but this felt so important, like for once, neither of them was reaching for it as a distraction or to cover up feelings. This was honest, easy to understand. Like every touch was them saying the things they’d failed to put into words for too long. It was perfect.

“You’re so good, Shane, so perfect for me-”

“Yours-” Shane panted out, pulling his knees back towards his chest slightly, letting Ilya get deeper inside him. Shane couldn’t help but think about how their bodies must look like this, and he reached around Ilya, letting his hands roam over Ilya’s warm skin, feeling the ripple of his muscles as his body worked above Shane’s. “Fuck, feels so good-”

“Mmm, too close, Shane,” Ilya said, his thrusts becoming stronger, faster, bouncing Shane up the bed with each press of his hips. “I can’t last.”

“We can go again later,” Shane replied, deciding right then that this was the only place he wanted to be for at least the next few days… here in Ilya’s bed, underneath him while he did unspeakable things to Shane’s body. “Want to come with you-”

“Da, I want that,” Ilya said, slipping his hand between their bodies. He was leaking against his own stomach, and Ilya rubbed his palm through it, coating it before he slid his hand around Shane’s dick, easing the slide. “Oh god, Shane-”

“Ilya-”

“Come for me, krasivyy,” he all but purred, and Shane screwed his eyes shut as his orgasm wracked through his entire body, Ilya’s hand unrelenting as Shane released over himself, trembling with how good he was feeling. He barely registered Ilya coming with a shout, his hand pulling on Shane’s shoulder for leverage as their bodies slammed together, stilling with a final thrust. “Oh fuck.”

“Oh my god,” Shane said, blinking and trying to come back to his senses. His body felt like it wasn’t his own, he was shaking but in the best way. Ilya leaned down and kissed him, seeking out Shane’s tongue and he moaned into it, unashamed of how vocal he was being.

Eventually, Ilya pushed himself up and pulled out, quickly pulling off the condom and tying it before dropping it to the floor. Shane was so out of it he couldn’t bring himself to react, and Ilya just chuckled, flopping down onto the mattress next to Shane, an arm landing heavily on Shane’s waist.

Shane threw an arm over his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing and calm himself down for a minute. It had been a lot, being with Ilya again, but in the very best way. Shane had forgotten how well Ilya knew him, and apparently, he hadn’t forgotten anything about Shane in the years they’d not been intimate. Shane smiled to himself but Ilya, apparently, noticed everything.

“You needed that, hmm?”

“Shut up,” Shane laughed, kicking out before he rolled over in Ilya’s arms, feeling himself settle down, right where he wanted to be. Ilya traced his fingertips up and down Shane’s spine, and it was relaxing in a way that Shane didn’t know he needed. He spoke without thinking. “At least if I stay here now, I know you’ll be here when I wake up.”

He could feel Ilya’s body tense underneath him and then he spoke, his voice more fragile than Shane had heard it. “I really am sorry, Shane. I was in Lyft and I regret it but I could not go back. I thought you would hate me…”

“Hey…” Shane propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at Ilya, tracing his jaw with his fingers gently. “I don’t think I could ever hate you. Hate your actions, maybe, but not you. I’m here now, okay? Yeah, you have a shit load of making up to do, with Ollie especially, but he’ll forgive you. Like I do…” He leaned in, kissing Ilya softly, in a way he hoped he communicated the big feelings inside of him. “I don’t want to fuck this up again, Ilya. We can’t ruin this twice.”

“We won’t. You are here, yes? I am here. Is all that matters.”

 

Chapter End Notes

Well, we're here.

Up next...

Shane and Ilya start to heal.

Ilya comes face to face with Ollie again...

Chapter 12

Chapter Summary

We don’t need perfect

Private jets

Adults can be stupid sometimes...

Chapter Notes

Only happiness from here on out, I promise.

Thank you for the amazing comments on Chapter 11. I am so grateful that you didn't think that Shane gave in too easily. I went back to it so many times but it felt right. He knew what he went there for, and he heard what he needed to... Ilya is the love of his life. He wasn't letting him run away without a fight.

Hope you enjoy this one. I loved writing Ollie and Illy's reunion.

I can't wait to see your comments on this :) xx

The next morning

“Shane… Shane. Wake up, moy lyubimyy.” Shane’s eyes blinked open slowly, and he couldn’t help but smile at the way Ilya was looking at him. “Good morning.”

“Morning. You’re still here.”

“Still here,” Ilya confirmed, leaning down for a soft kiss.

“I like waking up to you,” Shane said groggily, his voice raspy. “What time is it?”

“After nine,” Ilya replied, and Shane’s eyes widened in alarm. He scrambled to sit up but Ilya pushed him gently back down, smirking at him. “Stay, please…”

“I need to let Troy know I’ll be back later on. If he doesn’t hear from me, he’ll be worried then he’ll bother Harris and probably my parents-”

Ilya got up and opened the blinds, sunlight flooding into the room. Shane squinted and watched Ilya’s half naked body as he moved easily around his own room, finally settling back on the bed next to Shane. “He called earlier. Your phone was in guest room, on charge. I answered it. He said he will go shopping today and see you later.”

For some reason, Shane felt worryingly unbothered about the idea of Ilya speaking to Troy, and just felt grateful that Troy knew about the entire situation before Ilya had spoken to him. “Okay, thank you. So… what are the plans for today?”

“I thought we could go for swim? I have a pool, is nice. Have breakfast, enjoy each other…” Ilya’s flat hand made its way up from Shane’s stomach, gripping at his chest in an achingly familiar way. Shane bit his lip and let out a slow breath, eyes going dark as he looked at Ilya. “Fuck… have waited so long to have you in my bed.”

“I’ve waited too long for this too,” Shane confided, pulling Ilya down and into a deep kiss, morning breath be damned. He moaned as Ilya’s hand kneaded his chest, playing with his nipple until Shane was arching his back, gasping.

“You are so fucking beautiful like this,” Ilya muttered, leaning down before he sucked Shane’s nipple into his mouth.

“Oh god-” Shane moaned, closing his eyes and tilting his head back, every nerve ending in his body on fire because of Ilya. “Need you-”

“I got you.” Ilya kissed up the side of Shane’s neck, rolling his body on top of Shane’s and grinding down. “What do you want, Shane?”

Shane couldn’t think. His mind was blank of everything except Ilya and how Ilya was making him feel, and Shane felt practically dizzy with it. He was feeling desperate for something in a way he hadn’t been in too long, and the urge to be filled was winning out, pushing out every other thought. “You… inside me. Please, Ilya-”

“You will have me, lyubimyy,” Ilya said, reaching his hand out and grabbing the bottle of lube and a condom they’d left out on the bedside table the night before. Slowly but surely, he worked Shane open on one then two thick fingers, pressing kisses wherever he could while all Shane could do was lay in Ilya’s sheets and take whatever Ilya gave him, his legs splayed, eyes squeezed shut. “Ready?”

“Mm hmm, “ Shane murmured before he pushed at Ilya's shoulders, shoving him down onto the bed. “My turn…”

“Fuckkkkkk-”

Shane climbed on top of Ilya’s hips, taking a second to look down at the man beneath him. Ilya was like something from Shane’s wildest dreams. His bare chest was muscular and firm, and Shane’s cock twitched at the sight of the hair smattered across his pecs, pressing his palms firmly down into them.

“You really are so beautiful like this, Shane,” Ilya said almost reverently, eyes watching as Shane got himself into position, legs spread around Ilya’s hips, lining himself up. “Yes, take me-”

Shane held Ilya’s cock still as he lowered himself down, taking his time with it. The stretch was still a lot, even though Ilya hadn’t exactly been gentle with him the night before, and Shane exhaled, letting his eyes shut as he took the entirety of Ilya, his thighs shaking from controlling his weight.

“So good-”

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Shane echoed, looking down at Ilya, enjoying how blown his pupils were, how there was a pink flush blooming on his cheeks. He slowly started to lift himself up and down, his hands spread across Ilya’s chest as his thigh muscles did all of the work. “Fuck, feel so full-”

Ilya nodded frantically, hands coming up to grab at Shane’s hips. “Yes, full of me. You are so good, Shane, take me so good-”

Shane’s body was adjusting to Ilya’s size and he began to move his body in a faster rhythm, bouncing on Ilya’s cock. The sounds in the room were loud this time, gasps and slaps of skin, moans and curse words tumbling from both of their lips. He leaned down and captured Ilya’s lips in a kiss, their eyes locked on each other. Shane lifted a hand from Ilya’s chest and Ilya moved his, lacing their fingers as Shane pressed Ilya’s hand into the pillow, a filthy moment becoming something almost reverent, both of them lost entirely in each other.

“Ya tebya lyublu,” Ilya murmured against Shane’s lips, and he pulled back, slowing his movements as he looked down at Ilya.

“What?”

“Fuck, just- keep going, want to come like this.”

“Fuck, yes, inside me,” Shane said, even though he knew Ilya was wearing a condom and he wouldn’t get the full experience. Not yet, anyway. “Touch me, Ilya.”

Ilya’s hand wrapped around Shane’s cock and matched his strokes with Shane’s bounces. It was filthy in the best way and Shane’s eyes flitted between Ilya’s face, his chest and Ilya’s hand wrapped around his length. He could feel the burgeoning sensation of his orgasm in his belly and he picked up his pace, ignoring the protest from his muscles, knowing his body was fit enough to see this through.

“Make me come,” Shane demanded, and Ilya nodded, his face twisting into something more serious. He planted his feet on the mattress and started to brutally fuck up into Shane, who cried out, trying to keep his balance. “Oh god, oh fuck-”

“Too much?”

“No, don’t fucking stop-”

It didn’t take long until Shane was holding himself up on his knees, letting Ilya pound into him until he was coming hard, splattering his release all over Ilya’s chest and stomach, a work of art that Shane felt proud to have created.

“Fuck- Shane-” Ilya got out through gritted teeth as he pulled down on Shane’s hips, holding him still as he came into the condom, making Shane gasp at the stretch. “You okay?”

Shane couldn’t speak but he nodded, lowering himself slowly down against Ilya’s chest, his release now spread between the two of them. Ilya was still inside him but when he went to pull out, Shane practically whined, reaching up and tangling his fingers in Ilya’s hair.

“No?”

“No. Stay.”

Ilya nodded and adjusted them both until they were comfortable, hearts racing as they came down from their highs. It was these moments with another person, with Ilya, that Shane had missed, and he let his eyes shut, finally relaxing as Ilya held him, like he wanted to make sure Shane wasn’t going anywhere fast.

When they finally separated, Shane dragged Ilya into his ensuite shower, disgusted by the drying cum on their torsos, not to mention the mess between his own legs. He stood under the stream of hot water and allowed Ilya to clean him before Ilya dropped to his knees, giving Shane his third orgasm since he’d arrived just over twelve hours ago.

Ilya made them eggs for breakfast (“Ilya, it’s almost eleven, that would be brunch,” Shane had corrected, choosing to ignore the way Ilya rolled his eyes) and then allowed himself to be talked into heading into Ilya’s pool. Ilya handed him a spare pair of swimming trunks, and when Shane had attempted to leave the room to change, Ilya had just stripped off in front of him, smirking as he pulled on his own black trunks.

The pool looked so inviting, and Shane had laughed openly and loudly as Ilya had run up and jumped into the water, emerging like some sort of adonis and pushing his wet hair back from his forehead. Shane just openly ogled him and just shrugged when Ilya grinned at him, beckoning him in.

“Come on, Shane. In.”

“I’m actually enjoying the view.”

Ilya swam over to the side and lifted himself out, muscles bulging as he dripped water on the tile. He stood up tall and walked slowly towards Shane, like a predator stalking down his prey, and Shane had never wanted to be captured so much in his life. His breath was coming quickly as he stepped backwards, his back colliding with the wall as Ilya boxed him in, a hand coming up to rest on the wall beside his head.

“I said… in.”

Shane blinked slowly, Ilya coming closer, getting Shane wet, the pool water now cold on Shane’s body. “Make me.”

With that, Ilya lifted Shane up for the second time and pressed him against the wall, kissing him. The air between them felt charged, and Shane just laughed as Ilya held him tightly under his thighs, heading back to the pool. He went in through the steps, and Shane felt the water starting to support his weight, kissing until they were in the water up to their stomachs.

“Better,” Ilya grinned, kissing Shane once more before he let him go, swimming slightly away and ducking under the water. “So,” he said as they swam around, Shane enjoying the sensation of the water, “how can I make this better?”

“I think you already did, last night and this morning,” Shane said, but he could see that Ilya wasn’t happy with that answer. He walked over slowly, reaching and taking Ilya’s hands in his own. “I’ve already forgiven you,” Shane admitted.

“No. Do not make it easy for me, I was terrible to you.”

Shane nodded, wanting to acknowledge it because Ilya was right. Running away like he did was a shitty thing to do, but it wasn’t enough for Shane to push Ilya away again. They’d been there before and saying goodbye all those years ago had been one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. Now, they had a second chance at happiness, and there was more at stake than just the two of them.

“None of this is easy, Ilya, believe me. But forgiving you is my choice, and mine alone. I made that choice for myself because, despite everything, it’s what I want. Running away was… I understand it, but it was awful, waking up and finding you gone. It was worse when I had to lie to Ollie about it. But… I would hate to let a stupid mistake get in the way of something potentially great.”

Ilya smiled at that. “We are something great?”

“I think that we can be,” Shane said with a shrug, looping his arms around Ilya’s neck. “Probably. I think so.”

‘I think so too,” Ilya said, leaning in and kissing him. “I… I want to apologise to Ollie. Properly. To make him know it was not his fault I behave so badly.”

“I think he needs that,” Shane agreed, running his fingers through Ilya’s wet curls. “Maybe we can call him later? He’d like to hear from you.”

They chatted for a while, swimming around as the sun shone down on them, and it was the most relaxed Shane had felt since he’d arrived in California. It was easy, talking to Ilya like this when they were alone, and they found themselves talking about everything, not just hockey, something safe that they had in common.

“Ollie is with your parents?” Ilya asked after a while, the pair floating around in the water.

“Yeah. I, uh, I told them that I had something to do for the Cens in California. I’m not sure they believed me.”

Ilya was quiet for a moment, then, “You are ashamed of me?”

“No. Never, Ilya. I said that before and I meant it. I just… I didn’t want to explain what was going on until I knew what was going on with us. My mom was already confused after Ollie told her about you being there last month. So I thought I'd wait until I could give them the truth one way or another.”

Ilya swam closer, ducked low under the water. “And… what do you want to tell them now?”

Shane shrugged one shoulder, dipping into the water to be level with Ilya. “I, uh…” he trailed off, suddenly nervous.

“Because,” Ilya said, his hands resting on Shane’s hips under the water, “If it is okay, I would like you to tell them that we are going to try.”

“Try…?”

“To be together, if is what you want. I know it would be hard, us living apart but… I want to be with you, Shane. We have wasted so much time.”

“Hey, no. We have so much more in front of us. I don’t want to keep looking back, Ilya. I have Ollie, and I don’t regret that time, or having him. He’s my world. But there’s room in my world for you, too. However this looks for us, I want it, Ilya.” Shane could see that Ilya was struggling to hold back his emotions so he surged forward, cupping Ilya’s face between his hands as he kissed him.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Ilya admitted when they finally pulled apart, his forehead pressed to Shane’s, breath mingling together. “I do not want to ruin this again.”

“I don’t know how either but you won’t ruin it. I trust you, Ilya, with me and with Ollie.”

Ilya let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I want to be perfect for you, Shane. To make up for all the time we lost.”

“I don’t want perfect,” Shane said quietly, stroking Ilya’s cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. “I want something real. Something that we fight to make work, because we want it so much. Because being together is so much fucking better than being without each other.”

Ilya leaned in, kissing Shane again. It was different now, not desperate, not frantic, just steady. Certain in a way that felt new and terrifying and just right all at once.

“We’ll figure it out together,” Shane reassured Ilya, smiling at each other now, “one step at a time.”

“Together,” Ilya echoed, tears shining in his eyes. “Ya tebya lyublu, Shane.”

Shane’s brows furrowed with confusion. “You said that before. It sounds beautiful. What does it mean?”

This time, Ilya didn’t hesitate or dismiss Shane’s question as he had done earlier in bed.

“I am saying I love you, Shane,” Ilya said, voice thick with emotion, arms looped around Shane’s back, pulling him close. “I love you so much.”

“Fuck-” Shane choked out, shaking at the fact this was actually happening, that this was real. This was everything they’d never said before and finally, it was out there, not hidden, not tucked away and full of fear. “I love you too. I think I always have.” Ilya looked at him with such reverence and Shane leaned back slightly. “Oh come on, like you didn’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever been subtle about it.”

Ilya nodded, and the words were pouring from Shane now, the words he’d kept inside for so long but could now say aloud for Ilya to hear.

“I’ve been yours since I met you in Saskatchewan. I think some part of me knew it from the start, before I could even admit it to myself. It was there in every conversation, every time that I looked at you for a little too long, every excuse I made to see you again. I felt it long before I ever had the courage to put a name to it.”

Shane swallowed down the lump on his throat, emotions getting the better of him. “I was afraid to say it out loud because I thought it might ruin everything between us. I didn’t know if you felt the same, and I couldn’t bear the idea of losing you completely. So I kept it to myself, even when it was getting harder and harder to pretend it wasn’t there. But the truth is… it never went away. It was always you.”

“Shane… I did not know you felt like this. I wish I had been braver then.”

“We’re brave now. And I choose you, Ilya. Openly, completely. I’m not scared anymore. I’m done hiding that I’m in love with you.”

“Shane-”

Shane reached out, pressing a finger to Ilya’s lips, wanting to finish.

“If this is us now, if this is where everything changes… good. Let it. You’re it for me.”

Ilya just blinked slowly, as if he was in a daze. “I never thought I could have this. I thought…maybe I did not deserve people who want me around like you and Ollie. I did not think I would be so lucky I could keep you… love you like I wanted to for so long.”

Shane exhaled, smiling softly, his heart full. “I’m already yours. I always have been.”

This time, when Shane kissed him, it wasn’t just a promise - it was with a certainty that they were heading into their forever together.

****

“Where did you leave my phone?” Shane asked later when they were done with swimming, towels wrapped around their shoulders as they headed inside. They’d laid outside in the sunshine for a while, and Shane realised that while he’d been soaking up moments of time with Ilya, he’d neglected to check his phone and to let Troy know that he was still alive and that everything was okay now.

“In kitchen on charge,” Ilya called and Shane nodded, heading there. From where he was, Shane could see that the screen was lit up and he picked it up, feeling sick as he took in the amount of notifications on his home screen.

“Oh fuck.”

“Shane? What is wrong?”

“Just…” Shane unlocked the phone and went to his messages, seeing three missed calls from Troy, eighteen texts from his parents as well as eleven missed calls. “Shit, my parents-”

His heart thumped as he fumbled with the phone, his hands shaking too hard to comply with what he wanted. Ilya stepped over and took it from him, calling Yuna and putting it on speaker, staying right by Shane’s side as the call connected.

“Mom?”

“Oh thank god, Shane, where the hell have you been?”

“Busy, just, tell me what’s wrong. Is Ollie okay?”

“Honey, I don’t want you to panic-”

“Mom! Tell me!”

Ilya grabbed Shane’s left hand and squeezed it, grounding Shane in a way he didn’t realise he was needing.

“Ollie has broken his arm, Shane. Your father is with him, he’s in Ottawa Children’s Hospital. We took him for a hike, it happened so fast, he tripped on a branch, landed awkwardly.”

“Oh fuck-”

“Shane, he is fine, I promise. The doctors have said it was a clean break, that he’ll need to be a cast for six weeks or so, but it’ll heal, that he’s young. He’s had some pain relief and he’s watching Bluey with your dad.”

“I’ll book a flight, I’ll come home right now. Can you-” Shane’s voice was wobbly and he took a breath, willing his voice to be steadier, “Can I speak to him?”

“Sure, let me just go in. Actually, let me hang up and facetime you back, okay?”

Shane nodded and Yuna ended the call, the room suddenly falling silent. Ilya didn’t say a word. He just pulled Shane into a hug, rubbing his back as he breathed heavily against his chest.

“I’m such a terrible fucking father-”

“Shane, no,” Ilya said, pulling back and forcing Shane to look at him. “He is a child, accidents happen. He is with your parents, he is safe.”

“I need to be there.”

“I will sort this. Talk to him, okay?”

Shane nodded and his phone rang out, but before he could answer it, he grabbed Ilya’s hand, the other man already on his phone. “Ilya, thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too. Talk to Ollie, okay? I will sort flight.”

Shane sat at Ilya’s kitchen counter and answered the phone, relief flooding his veins as Ollie’s face filled the screen, paler than normal but otherwise fine. His eyes were red, like he’d been crying, but he grinned upon seeing Shane’s face fill the screen in front of him.

“Daddy! Daddy, I broked my arm, look!” Yuna panned the phone down and showed off where Ollie’s arm was supported on a pillow and in a soft splint, not yet in a cast. “The doctor man said I could get a cast, and I could choose a colour!”

“Ollie, are you okay? I’m so sorry I’m not there with you, but I’m going to get home to you as soon as I can, okay?”

“‘Kay, Daddy. I tripped. Got blood on my knee, and broked my arm.”

“I know. But Baaba says you were super brave.”

“Yeah, I only cried a bit. Then they put a needle in me, a huge needle,” he said, his eyes widening almost comically, “and then it stopped hurting so much. You coming home, Daddy?”

“Yeah, baby, I’m coming home.”

“Daddy, guess what?”

Shane smiled at the fact Ollie was still talking at a mile a minute. “What’s that, Ol?”

“I’m gonna get a red cast. You know why?”

“Why?”

“‘cause I like red. And it’s like Illy’s Ferrari!”

Shane glanced to his left, seeing a wide smile erupt on Ilya’s face before he turned back to Ollie. “Oh, yeah? That sounds super cool, I can’t wait to see it. Listen, you keep being really brave for me, okay? I’m going to get on a plane with Uncle Troy and come home as quickly as I can, but Grandpa and Baaba will stay with you until then.”

“Okay. I miss you Daddy.”

“Miss you too, but I’ll be home soon. I love you, my brave Ollie-bear.”

“Love you Daddy bear,” Ollie grinned and waved at the phone as Yuna stood up, turning the camera around and back on herself as she walked out of the room, Ollie still calling goodbye to Shane until the door closed behind him.

“He seems okay.”

“I told you he was. So… a red cast, hmm?”

“Apparently so,” Shane said, shivering as Ilya’s hand came to rest on his bare thigh. “I’m booking a flight so I’ll let you know what time I’ll be home. It’ll be at least six hours though, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you can’t help that, Shane. They still need to cast his arm and then they said something about keeping him in for a few hours to observe him, just to be sure even though we don’t believe he hit his head at all. You know, that doesn’t look like a hotel, Shane-”

“I have to go, Mom. I’ll talk to you when I get there. Look after my baby for me, please?”

“Always. Bye, Shane, be safe.”

Shane ended the call and threw his phone onto the counter, covering his face with his hands. “Oh god, my son is going to be the death of me. I swear I’m going to go grey early because of him.”

“Hmm, I think I would like you all sexy and grey. What you call it? Silver wolf.”

Shane laughed. “I think you mean silver fox.”

“Mm, I think wolf suits you more.”

“Ilya-”

“Sorry. So, red like Illy’s Ferrari, hmm?” Ilya teased, and the two of them laughed, Ilya coming up behind Shane and resting his chin on his shoulder. “I have booked you flight, private jet can leave in two hours, says flight will be four and a half hours direct to Ottawa.”

“A private jet?” Shane asked somewhat skeptically.

“Yes, is fastest way. I have money, this is good reason to spend it, no?”

“You’re right, thank you so much. Okay, I need to get my stuff from the hotel, and-”

“Yes. What can I do? How can I help?”

Shane wriggled out of Ilya’s hold and turned, facing him. “Come with me?” Ilya froze, but Shane carried on. “I want you to come with me. I… I need you.”

Ilya nodded, leaning in and kissing Shane quickly. “Of course. I would not be anywhere else.”

They dressed and climbed into Ilya’s car together, heading in the direction of Shane’s hotel to collect his things. Ilya held his hand the entire way and Shane felt grateful to have him by his side right now. Ilya had packed a small weekend bag and it was in the trunk of his car, ready for the jet he’d chartered to take them back to Ottawa. Ilya parked across the street and cut the engine, relaxing in his seat.

“Do you want to… come help me pack my stuff while I explain more to Troy?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” Shane answered easily, and they got out of the car, crossing the road together. Shane so badly wanted to grab Ilya’s hand but they hadn’t quite discussed how they wanted to come out yet, and he couldn’t think about that now. Instead, Shane reached out, resting his pinkie against the back of Ilya’s hand as they waited in the elevator to take them up their floor, Shane just willing it to go faster so he could get home to Ollie.

They walked in the direction of the suite Shane had spent too much money on for a last minute booking and Shane grabbed his key from his pocket, sliding it into the lock. The light went green and he walked inside, Ilya following quietly behind.

“Troy? It’s me, I’m just here for my stuff.”

“Shane, fuck, how is Ollie, your mom called and said something happened, he’s hurt his arm? Are we flying back- oh.”

“He’s fine, Troy. He broke his arm, and yeah, we’re flying home right now so if you’re coming with us, please get your stuff together. Look, I don’t have time to make this a big deal,” Shane started, and he looked at Ilya, seeing nothing but love and bravery reflected back at him. “You guys have already met.”

“Right, nice to see you again,” Troy said, extending his hand to shake Ilya’s, always the polite Canadian. “I take it you two have gotten your heads out of your asses?”

“Terrible choice of words,” Shane quipped, making Troy snort as Shane headed through to his room, grabbing the suitcase he’d left on the floor, clothes all hung in the wardrobe. Ilya followed and so did Troy, Shane continuing to talk as he packed, folding his clothes carefully. “But yeah.”

“We are going to be together,” Ilya confirmed, and somehow, the words meant so much more coming from Ilya. “I have apologised to Shane for being asshole. I will apologise to Ollie also. They both deserve to know how sorry I am.”

“Good, that’s the least you could do. I didn’t really want to get into a fight here anyway.”

Ilya raised his eyebrows. “Fight? You’d fight me?”

“Well, I’d fight anyone for Shane and Ollie. And currently, you’re top of my list.”

“This is good to hear, but … I was more scared Shane will punch me last night.”

“Shane? Punch you? This guy right here Shane?” Troy asked, pointing at Shane with a tone of disbelief.

“Da. You know he knows fighting, yes? He did, how you say, mixed fighting, when he was younger.”

“Mixed martial arts,” Shane added from the other room as he grabbed his toiletries from the bathroom. “How do you know that, Ilya?”

“Hmmmm, I read it online. Some old interview before draft. You mention it.”

“Oh, uh, what?”

“What do you mean what? I google you, it’s there. Only way I could see you for last ten years.” Ilya said as if it was the most natural thing to have done, and something Shane would also admit to doing to catch glimpses of Ilya’s life since their parting, but maybe not in front of his best friend.

“Hollzy, you never fight though. Where are these skills on the ice, man? We’ve got a fucking secret weapon right here, and you’ve kept quiet about it?!”

“Troy, hey. Not now, and no one is punching anyone, ok. Yes, I did learn to fight when I was young, you really thought my mother would put me in a contact sport without knowing how to throw a hit or two? Also, Ilya may be an asshole but I’m choosing him anyway.” Shane said, and Troy groaned, shaking his head. “Hey, no. I’ve put up with years of you and Harris being all coupley and disgusting in front of me. Now it’s my turn.”

“For what it’s worth, if you’re happy, Shane, then I’m happy for you both,” Troy said sincerely while giving Ilya a slight side eye. “But seriously. How is Ollie?”

“As I said, he’s broken his right arm, but he seemed okay when I spoke to him. My parents said the doctors think it’s a pretty clean break so it’ll heal up fine. I just want to be there with him.” Ilya reached for the last few shirts in the wardrobe, starting to fold them next to Shane. “I’m really sorry to cut this trip short.”

“You got what you came for,” Troy shrugged. “I just appreciate you guys letting me fly back with you.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t just abandon you here, but hurry up, we only have just over an hour and a half until the plane takes off now,” Shane added as Ilya zipped Shane’s case shut, lifting it off the bed and taking it to put it by the door, leaving Troy and Shane alone.

“He apologised? A real apology?”

“Yes, he did. And I believe him when he said that he didn’t mean to hurt us, Troy. I just think… he didn’t think it through. I don’t want to talk about what he said, because it’s not my place, that was for me, but… I can forgive him.”

Troy looked at him, nodding slowly. “And you’re happy, Shane?”

“So fucking happy,” Shane confirmed, allowing Troy to pull him into a hug, sinking into the familiar embrace. “This is everything I’ve wanted since I was seventeen, Troy.”

“Well, you deserve to be happy. And if he’s the guy who gives you that, then I’m just excited to get to know him better. After I’ve forgiven him for breaking your hearts, I mean.”

“Understandable. But just so you know… he’s my favourite person in the whole world besides my son.” Shane grinned and pulled back from the hug, seeing Ilya smiling softly at him from just behind them. “Get your stuff. I will leave you here if you’re not ready for the plane.”

“Yes, Captain,” Troy laughed, clapping Ilya on the shoulder as he walked past him, Ilya coming towards Shane like they were magnets, always drawn to each other.

“You okay?”

“I will be when I get home to him,” Shane nodded, resting his head on Ilya’s shoulder, letting himself be held. “Thank you for being here with me.”

“Always,” Ilya whispered, kissing the top of Shane’s head. “Let’s go to your boy.”

*****

“Children’s orthopaedics?” Shane asked as they approached the main desk of the hospital just over six and a half hours later, his mom confirming with a text as they landed that they were still at the hospital. He listened carefully, nodding as the kind woman gave instructions. “Okay, thank you so much.”

Troy had insisted that he’d make his own way home so that Shane and Ilya could get straight to the hospital via the Lyft that Ilya had organised to pick them up from the airport. It was beyond thoughtful, and Shane knew he would thank Ilya properly later for everything he’d done to get Shane home.

Ilya guided them through the labyrinth-like corridors until they came to the orthopedic ward, joining the queue. Shane tapped his foot impatiently on the floor but Ilya reached across, taking his hand and quickly squeezing it.

“Hey. He is okay. You will be with him soon, yes?”

“Yeah, I know, I just… I need to see him for myself.”

Ilya didn’t let go of Shane’s hand until they were at the desk, side by side.

“Uh, I’m here for my son, Oliver Hollander? He came in with my parents with a broken arm earlier today.”

“Let me just find out where he is for you…” the woman behind the desk tapped at her computer, looking up at Shane for a second. “Can you confirm his date of birth and address, please?”

Shane did and the nurse confirmed he was correct, handing Shane some forms to sign before he was allowed to see him. “Polly will come and take you back to him, if you wouldn’t mind just waiting over there, please.”

They stepped away from the desk and waited out of the way, but all Shane wanted to do was to get to Ollie. Being so close and yet so far was awful, and Shane could feel himself getting worked up, even though he knew it wouldn’t help anyone.

“Family of Oliver Hollander?”

“Yes, here,” Shane called, and he headed over to the doors that were now open. Ilya hesitated, hanging back and Shane turned, frowning at him. “Hey, come on, you’re coming with me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Come on, Ilya. He’s waiting for us.”

This time, Shane was deliberate in his actions. He waited, holding out his hand. This time, Ilya didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward and slotted his hand into Shane’s, and they held on to each other as they followed the nurse down the corridor, right towards the end to the closed door of a small, private room.

“Thank you so much,” Shane said and the nurse disappeared. Ilya went to move his hand, but Shane held on. “Done hiding, remember?”

He knocked and then opened the door. The first thing he saw was Ollie sitting on a big hospital bed, looking smaller than usual in the middle of it, even though David was perched on the mattress next to him. The look of joy on Ollie’s face as Shane walked in was everything. Shane was a little surprised he was actually awake but the excitement of the day must have kept him up.

“Daddy! You’re here, I been waitin’ - oh. Illy-”

Shane watched as his son’s face utterly crumbled in front of his eyes, dissolving into sobs. Everyone stared in panic, none more so than Shane who just hurried over, scooping his little boy into his arms and offering comfort in the only way he knew how.

“Hey, it’s okay, bud,” Shane said softly, trying to soothe the young boy who was crying in his arms. “I’m here now. Why are you crying, hmm?” Shane adjusted his grip so he could look down at his son, taking care not to jostle the arm that was now wrapped up in a bright red plaster cast and still resting on a pillow.

Ollie mumbled something against Shane’s chest but he couldn’t make out the words. Shane looked up, desperately seeking out Ilya who was hiding by the door, a hand over his mouth as if he wanted to step outside and give Shane space to deal with this.

Don’t you dare, Shane repeated in his head, like Ilya could hear him. Don’t you hold yourself back from us again. Come here and be the man I know you are, Ilya Rozanov.

“Illy comed back for me,” Ollie all but whispered in Shane’s ear, the words shaky, like they were an effort to get out. “He didn’t go away forever.”

Shane looked up just in time to see a tear snake down Ilya’s cheek, and that was everything Shane needed to see to know how much this meant to him.

“Come here, Ilya,” he said softly, ignoring his parents who were just watching this unfold in front of their eyes. Slowly, tentatively, like he wasn’t sure he belonged there, Ilya walked over, taking Shane’s hand as he stood at the bedside, looking down at Ollie with regret etched on every inch of his face.

“Illy?”

“Yes, Ollie?” Ilya asked, so carefully that Shane’s heart literally swelled in his chest.

“You comed back?”

Ilya nodded slowly. “I did. I am sorry that I leave you before.”

“Why you not wait for four sleeps? You told me four sleeps but then you was gone before that.”

“Oh.” Ilya sighed, and Shane just waited, letting Ilya take the lead with this one. “I made bad choice. I should have waited four sleeps and I did not.”

“But why? Daddy said you had hockey.”

Clearly Ollie wasn’t going to let this one go. Shane was tempted to step in, but a quick glance from Ilya told him that he had this.

“Sometimes grown ups have to leave because of things in their heart. Or their head. Big feelings make it hard to think and make good choices.”

“And you had big feelings?”

“Mm, very big. Big and scary. But I should have said goodbye, and I am sorry I made you sad. I’m so sorry,” Ilya said, his voice cracking on the last word, blinking away unshed tears as he looked down at Shane’s son. His hand was hovering over Ollie’s knee, as if unsure he could touch. “I should not have left. But… was not because of you. I promise you.”

Ollie looked at Shane before he raised his left hand, holding out a pinkie finger. “Pinkie promise, Illy?”

Shane watched as Ilya’s lower lip trembled before he nodded, reaching out his pinkie finger to Ollie’s, looping them together before he spoke. “Pinkie promise.”

Shane felt Ilya’s hand tremble in his,and he watched as Ilya carefully sank down on the edge of the bed, taking Ollie’s hand and pressing it to his lips for a brief moment, his shoulders shaking with the force of the breath he let out. When he finally looked up at Shane again, his eyes were red rimmed, cheeks stained with a redness that Shane knew was the emotion he was struggling to express.

“I come back for you,” Ilya said softly, unguarded and honest, “because no matter how far I go, you two are always here.” He slipped his hand out of Shane’s, pressing it against his own heart. “And if you will both let me, I will spend longest time proving I am not leaving again.”

Shane opened his arms and pulled both of his boys in close, desperately fighting to keep his emotions in check. Thankfully, his parents had stepped out to give them a few moments. He stood up, letting out a breath and focusing back on the present, on his little boy in a hospital bed. Ollie sniffed, wiping his eyes before he grinned up at them both. Shane sometimes wished that he had the emotional resilience of a four year old.

“Hey, Illy, look. I got a red cast!”

“I see that. It is a cool colour.”

“Like your Ferrari.”

“Does it hurt now?”

“No, the doctor gave me big injection in my arm, see?” He pointed to the bandage in the crook of his elbow. “I was super brave, they gave me a sticker. You like stickers, Illy?”

“Uh, I do. I think your sticker is very nice.”

“I’m just gonna talk to my mom,” Shane said softly, and he slipped out of Ilya’s hold, leaving Ilya and Ollie alone as he found both of his parents out of the room in the hallway. “Is he really okay? What did the doctors say?”

“He’s fine, Shane. Probably exhausted but otherwise fine. They put the cast on and they gave me all the instructions for it. When I told the doctors that you were on your way, they said they’d come back and speak to you before he was discharged to go home.”

“Okay, good. Thank you for being here with him, I know it’s been a long day.”

“Well, this happened on our watch, of course we’re here. This is our fault, Shane, we’re so sorry-”

“Hey, no, I don’t blame you. He’s a kid, these things happen. Could’ve been on the ice, out on a hike… he’s going to be fine, that’s the main thing.”

Yuna nodded, blinking away her tears and Shane watched her and David do that strange conversation with their eyes, a thing he’d seen too many times before, and waited for the inevitable. It didn’t take long.

“I’m sorry but I have to ask. What the heck was all of that about? I’ve never seen Ollie just completely crumple like that, Shane. Is he okay?”

“He will be now,” Shane reassured her, truly believing it now that Ilya was back where he belonged, with them. “It’s a lot, I know, but… trust me when I say that this is what I want. This is the right thing for all of us, to be together.”

“You and Ilya? I didn’t realise you went to California to see him,” Yuna said, her voice deceptively light because Shane could sense the tone behind her words. “Is there something we should know? First, he spent Christmas with you, then you wouldn’t tell us anything else when we came back from our holiday. You just shut us down whenever we asked about it.”

“Mom-”

“I’m worried about you both, Shane. You two mean everything to me, and-”

“I get that, I do. But you don’t have to worry about us. Ilya and I… there’s a lot of history. We want to be together, Mom. I love him, and he loves me. I went to California because I needed to see him, to know how he felt about me… if he felt the same way that I do about him.”

Somehow, Yuna and David looked less surprised by Shane’s revelation than he was expecting, and it soothed something inside of him he realised he’d been afraid of.

“And he does?”

“Yeah. He’s… it’s always been him, Mom. I said there was history, and I meant it. I know you won’t understand this but he’s been it for me since I was seventeen, if I’m being honest. And I’m it for him as well. I know that this is a lot, that I need to explain more but we can talk about this later, okay? Maybe somewhere less…clinical? I really need to be with Ollie right now.”

“Ok Shane, we understand but you’re right, this is a lot. We look forward to hearing more about it.”

He quickly smiled and hugged both of his parents before he walked back inside, smile widening at the sight of Ilya next to Ollie on the bed, the pair looking at something on Ilya’s phone, the earlier tears thankfully long forgotten.

“Look, Daddy! Illy got other red cars!”

Shane walked around to the other side of Ollie’s bed, sitting down as he saw that Ilya was showing Ollie an album of some of the supercars he had in California at his home, the home that Shane had been in just a few short hours ago. Somehow, now, it felt like a lifetime away already.

“They’re really cool, Ol.”

They all looked up as the door opened again, and a doctor in a white coat walked inside, freezing at the sight of Shane and Ilya.

“Oh, wow. Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov, wow, this is- wow.” He blinked then shook himself slightly, trying hard to appear professional which Shane appreciated. “I’m so sorry. I’m Doctor Martin, you must be Oliver’s father.”

“Yes, nice to meet you,” Shane said, extending his hand. “Thank you for taking care of Ollie.”

“My pleasure, Mr Hollander. Oliver came in with your parents-”

“This is my Illy! He comed back to see me ‘cause I broked my arm.”

The doctor looked a bit overwhelmed, but Shane was enjoying himself too much to interrupt. “Yes, that’s, uh, very kind of him. Nice to meet you Mr Rozanov…”

“Ilya,” Ilya offered, shaking the doctor’s hand, whose face by now was bright red.

“Ilya, yes. Oliver was brought in with a fracture to his right ulna. We’ve done an X-ray, and fortunately the break looks clean and well aligned, so we’ve been able to stabilise it with a cast. At this stage, we’re expecting it to heal well on its own without needing any further intervention. We also observed him for a few hours just to make sure there were no other issues from his fall. Now, before we discharge him, I just want to go over the aftercare with you and explain what to keep an eye on once he’s home.”

Shane listened to all of the instructions carefully along with Yuna and David who were hearing it for a second time, while Ilya sat with Ollie, entertaining him with talk of his cars, a subject that Ollie could apparently never tire of. Shane asked a few questions and jotted down the answers on his phone before thanking the doctor.

“We’ll bring around the discharge paperwork as soon as we can. In the meantime, please make yourselves comfortable here.”

“Shane, we thought we’d leave you to it, we know it’s getting late,” David said as Yuna glared at him, but he steadfastly ignored her. “We can pick you up some groceries, drop them off so you don’t have to leave Ollie alone later if you like.”

“That would be great, I’d appreciate that,” Shane said, relieved that his parents were thinking of things like this when he wasn’t. “Thank you so much.”

They said their goodbyes, with Yuna giving Shane a pointed look that told him their conversation from earlier definitely wasn’t over. Finally, Shane, Ilya and Ollie were alone, and Shane felt himself relax fully for the first time since he’d seen that his son really was okay. Ilya nodded his head toward the door, and Shane set up Bluey on his phone while he stepped towards the door.

“I can go, give you two some space,” Ilya began, reaching and taking Shane’s hand gently as he spoke. “I don’t want to be in the way, you need to focus on Ollie.”

Shane frowned, his chest tightening at the thought of Ilya believing he could somehow be in the way here. “Don’t say that. You aren’t in the way, not with me, not ever. I want you here, I- I need you here, Ilya. Your place is with us. With me and Ollie.”

Ilya’s eyes didn’t move from Shane’s, and Shane brushed his thumb over Ilya’s knuckles.

“So stay,” he said quietly, his words just for the two of them, “not because you think we need help, or because you feel obligated to. Stay because this is where you belong.”

“Illy, I don’t want you to go-”

They both looked over, surprised to see Ollie staring at them, the phone locked and in his lap. He locked eyes with Ilya, then Shane, and finally, his bottom lip trembled in a way that just broke Shane’s heart.

“Please don’t go away again.”

Shane realised how much this meant to Ollie, and he knew he couldn’t do this again without getting Ollie’s okay. The little boy deserved to know that his opinion mattered, that Shane wouldn’t do anything he wasn’t on board with too. He turned to his son, still holding Ilya’s hand as he walked them both back towards Ollie. He hoped Ilya would understand why he had to do this.

“Ollie, how would you feel if Ilya came home with us tonight?” Shane asked his son as he sat on the edge of the bed with him.

“Like a sleepover?” Ollie asked, similar to how he’d asked at Christmas.

“Yeah bud, like a sleepover,” Shane said, looking back at Ilya, making sure he knew the expectation was not to use the guest room this time around. “And maybe he spends more time at our house when he’s not busy, how do you feel about that?”

“Can we go to his house and see his Ferrari?”

Shane laughed because of course that was his four year olds priority. “We’ll have to ask Ilya how he feels about that, but I think we can make that happen.”

“Okay, Daddy. Illy can come home with us,” Ollie said simply.

“And Ollie,” Shane continued, “how would you feel if Ilya and Daddy kissed and hugged and held hands sometimes?”

“Like Uncle Troy and Uncle Harris?”

“Yes, just like that.”

Ollie between the two for a moment, like his little mind was processing things. “Well… do you love Illy, Daddy? ‘Cause Uncle Troy loves Uncle Harris and that’s why kissin’ is okay for them.”

“Yes Ollie, I do,” Shane replied honestly, giving Ilya a look that he hoped conveyed that he really meant he was done hiding and that the most important person in his life was being told how he felt.

“Good because I love my Illy too,” Ollie stated as if it were a fact that should have been obvious, “You comin’ home with us, Illy?”

Ilya and Shane exchanged a glance, and Shane gave him an almost imperceptible nod.

“I would love to,” Ilya said softly, his voice thick with emotion and Ollie’s face just lit up at that, stretching out his hand to Ilya who took it gently. Shane watched on, taking in the moment. It had been a long time since Ollie had reached for anyone but him in that way, but seeing how Ollie had been overjoyed at Ilya’s presence had been everything. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as scary as he had thought.

Shane stepped out for a few moments to grab them some drinks, all of them tired and thirsty by now, and he wasn’t sure how long it was going to be until they got to go home. Clutching two bottles of water in his hands, Shane headed back to Ollie’s room, pausing when he heard quiet voices. He stayed where he was, listening in.

“... was I bad?”

“No, Ollie. Was accident, you fell. Nobody-”

“No! Silly Illy. I mean when you goed away at Christmas. Did you go ‘cause I was a bad boy?”

Shane looked away for a moment, his heart aching at Ollie’s innocence, and he decided to let Ilya deal with this one.

“Sometimes,” Ilya began, his voice so quiet that Shane had to really focus to hear him. “Adults can be stupid. Can do things they regret, but is too late to take back. I was stupid. And I am so sorry for making you sad. It was not because of you.”

“You promise?”

“I promise,” Ilya said, and Shane peered inside, seeing Ilya wrap his son in a tight hug, watching as Ollie closed his eyes, sinking into it.

Shane walked in slowly so that he didn’t disturb their moment, and as Ilya looked up, Shane mouthed ‘thank you’ at him, wanting him to know that Shane was aware he’d apologised and taken responsibility for what had happened. It felt like the past already, but Shane knew it had been bothering his son, however much he didn’t like to talk about it.

They were discharged just over an hour later, with a bag full of medication to keep Ollie comfortable over the next few days. Since they’d come straight from the airport, they had no way of getting home so Shane had called on Harris and Troy who were soon on their way. Ollie was being helped to the bathroom by a nurse, so Shane and Ilya had a moment to themselves.

“You’re staying with us tonight,” Shane said with a grin, playing with Ilya’s long fingers, just because he could. “I love that we’re doing this, that Ollie is on board with us. I’m so fucking happy, Ilya.”

He didn’t miss how Ilya blinked quickly, looking away before he met Shane’s eyes again. “Me too, Shane. I meant it when I said I love you. I always want to be here with you. With both of you.” He leaned in, kissing Shane quickly, the pair just pulling apart as Ollie and the nurse returned to the room.

It wasn’t long before Harris and Troy arrived, the latter clutching the ribbon of an enormously over the top Get Well Soon balloon, and a cuddly shark for Ollie, who took it gleefully, shrieking his thanks.

“You must be Ilya,” Harris said, coming straight over and shaking Ilya’s hand, which Shane appreciated more than he could say. “Thank you so much for getting Shane and Troy back home so quickly, and for looking after Shane and Ollie.”

“Harris, really,” Shane moaned, rolling his eyes. “I’m more than capable of looking after myself.”

“Just because you can, does not mean you should have to,” Harris said with an easy shrug. “It really is good to meet you, Ilya.”

“You too. You are Troy’s husband?”

“Yep, my favourite title in the world,” Harris confirmed with a grin. “I better go and say hi to our brave little soldier.”

“You have nice friends,” Ilya commented as Shane came over, slipping an arm around his waist. Shane felt so comfortable showing affection to Ilya in front of his best friends, especially since he’d sat curled up into Ilya’s side on the private jet back to Ottawa, needing comfort in lieu of being able to comfort his son. “They are good people.”

Troy and Harris drove them home, Ollie in the backseat between Ilya and Shane, and as promised, Yuna and David had restocked Shane’s fridge for what looked like the next month at least. Shane found a note stuck to one bag of groceries on the table, reading ‘We know what it’s like feeding one hockey player, so we’ve made sure you have enough food for two. Mom and Dad’ . Shane had agreed to invite Troy and Harris over for dinner later in the week, but he was grateful when they finally left, closing the front door with a click.

It was well past the time he and Ollie would usually have dinner, so Shane sighed, raking a hand through his hair as he wondered what he could cook that would be quick and easy to make.

“You guys fancy pasta for dinner?”

“Uh, I already order us food while we drive here, it should be here soon,” Ilya said, and Shane just stood open-mouthed, staring at him. “What? I am sorry, but did not want you to cook-”

“What did you get, Illy?”

“Pizza, and salad for your Daddy,” Ilya replied, and Ollie cheered, grinning at the pair of them before he turned back to what he was watching on the television.

“Shane… you okay?”

Shane nodded, walking over and resting his head on Ilya’s shoulder, arms around his waist as they stood chest to chest. “Yeah. I just… I’m really glad that I don’t have to do all this alone anymore.” He suddenly froze, pulling back and looking at Ilya. “I mean, not that-”

“You are not alone now,” Ilya confirmed, leaning in and kissing him gently. “You have me.”

There was something incredibly open and honest in Ilya’s eyes as he spoke, and Shane nodded, feeling something settle inside him that he hadn’t noticed was missing until he had Ilya back in his life.

“I’m grateful for you. I’m grateful that we found our way back to each other.”

“Me too. I love you,” Ilya whispered, and they kissed until-

“Eww! Daddy, stop kissin’ Illy!”

Shane turned, looking at his son. “And why is that?”

“Because,” his son huffed, scrunching up his little nose like he’d just smelled something offensive, “kisses are for later, not now ‘cause I wanna watch Bluey with you.” He pointed at them with his unbroken arm, then added, very seriously, “also ‘cause it’s gross.”

“Right, that’s it!” Shane laughed, hurrying over and pressing kisses all over a squealing Ollie’s face, looking over to see Ilya looking on in amusement. “Kisses are gross, hmm? Then that just means you must need more of them!”

Chapter End Notes

Hope you enjoyed that! Felt so good to finally give them some happiness after a brutal few chapters.

Next up...

Shane and Ollie take a trip...
and Ollie's dream comes true!

Chapter 13

Chapter Summary

Airport etiquette

A safe surprise is worth it

My Hollanders.

Chapter Notes

Happy birthday to me.

I thought since it's my birthday, I'll share the gift of Chapter 13 with you all to stop me feeling so alone.

I'm sorry for going quiet but it was needed for my own sake, I promise.

I hope posting this today will make up for it, and you'll forgive me.

Enjoy it, please. x

A few weeks later
Late February

“Fuck yes!” Shane screamed as he watched Luca Haas send the puck flying into the back of the net, screams echoing around the rink from the Ottawan fans who had flown to Boston to watch the game. He looked around and saw Marlow yelling at his team, berating Connors who had let Haas slip past him far too easily. “That’s my boy!”

Luca laughed as Shane smacked him on the top of the helmet, looking a little relieved he’d managed to level the score. “Good assist, Cap, thanks.”

“Let’s keep going. We have eight minutes left, we can do this.”

Shane skated off to Centre, sweat dripping down his back. The Raiders had taken to the ice that afternoon with a reignited kind of energy that had left Shane feeling nervous. They’d not played the Boston team for months, and there was a big shift in the way they were playing tonight. The Centaurs had immediately been put onto the backfoot, with the Raiders putting away two goals in quick succession, forcing Shane and Coach Wiebe to change things up, trying something new to try and throw the opposition.

It had worked initially because the Centaurs had managed to score a quick goal at the end of the first period, but Shane still wasn’t happy. He’d given a team talk during the break, and his team had come out onto the ice with a refreshed hunger, and they’d played well. No more goals had been scored during the second period but the pace of the game was fast and frantic, leaving everyone sweating and fighting for a win.

As the puck dropped, Shane snatched it and hurried off down the inside, with Marlow, Connors and St. Simon on his tail. He flicked the puck across the ice towards Barrett, who was laying in wait. He skated easily around, the power in his legs propelling him at speeds that almost had Shane’s head spinning, watching on as his team worked seamlessly together in the way Shane had nurtured over the years.

A shot at the goal narrowly missed the target and Shane groaned, skating over to Barrett, slapping him on the back.

“Do that again, because that should have fucking gone in.”

“That was a fucking shitty miss,” Troy cursed, and Shane shook his head, hating when Troy got hard on himself like this.

“No, it was a narrow miss. Do it again, Troy. Come on, get your head in the game.”

The final eight minutes of the period went by too quickly, and before Shane knew it, the final whistle was blowing. The game had gone into overtime with the Raiders getting that final point and the win, but Shane couldn’t be disappointed with the result. His team had played their best, and the Raiders had matched them move for move. He knew that the Centaurs couldn’t have done any more and that was what mattered.

As always, he lined up by the gate and fist bumped his team as they skated off the ice, waving at the few Ottawa fans who were dotted around, cheering them for their draw. When the team had all gone inside to the locker room, Shane skated over to Marlow, shaking his hand.

“Hey Marlow, good game. You guys played really well.”

“Thanks, Hollzy. Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Shane agreed, taking his water bottle from the side of the rink and taking a long drink. Today’s game really had taken it out of him, maybe more than he wanted to admit.

“You and Roz. You’re friends now, right?”

Shane looked at him, wondering how much to divulge, pleased that there was no one around to overhear their conversation. The Centaurs knew that Shane and Ilya were involved with each other, but for now, they’d kept it close to their chests. “Uh, yeah, we’ve gotten together a few times when we’ve been at the same place. Why’s that?”

“Just wondered. I, uh, I saw he posted over Christmas from Ottawa, and figured maybe it was with you. Then I saw the picture you posted of him and Ollie. He’s posted a few other things since then as well that have made me think. I think it’s nice, man, for both of you. I miss him.”

“Yeah, it is nice,” Shane agreed, leaning against the side of the rink. “He’s a good guy. I miss playing against him.”

“I haven’t spoken to him in too long. Maybe we’ll all have to get a drink next time he’s in town.”

Shane grinned, nodding. “I’d like that, Marly. Good game today. I hate to dash but-”

“Daddy, hi!” Ollie came careering towards Shane and he reached over the side, hoisting his son into his arms. He’d been standing with Harris for the game, wearing his Centaurs jersey and clutching a ridiculous bright orange foam finger that Harris had procured from somewhere. It had made Shane laugh every time he’d looked in his son’s direction, so he’d forced himself to not look over too much while he was playing. “Hi, Cliffy.”

“Hey, little man,” Marlow grinned, leaning over and giving Ollie a high five. “Did you like the game?”

“Yeah, you was good. Just not as good as my daddy.”

“Savage. Kinda reminds me of someone,” Marly said, raising an eyebrow at Shane who just smiled serenely and turned back to his son.

“Hey, daddy, I’m hungry.”

“Well, we can ask Harris to grab you something while I get showered, okay?”

“Kay,” Ollie agreed easily. “When we getting on the plane?”

“You’re going back to Ottawa today?” Marlow asked, clearly surprised, but of course, Ollie was there to be the chaos gremlin he was always destined to be.

“No, Cliffy! We is going to see my Il-”

“We’re taking a few days away before we go back home,” Shane cut in, hoping he wasn’t blushing. “So I should probably get going.”

The look Marly was throwing him told Shane that maybe he hadn’t covered it well enough. He just ruffled Ollie’s hair, raising his eyebrows at Shane, who was steadfastly ignoring him. “Yeah, alright, Hollander. Enjoy your… break.”

Little ears meant that Shane couldn’t retort in the way he wanted, so instead he just grinned and skated away, handing Ollie off to Harris as he stepped off the ice, the other man promising to sort Ollie out with some food while Shane got changed. The team were already mostly out of their gear by the time Shane walked in, and he hurried to his stall, grabbing his phone.

There was a photo waiting for him, and Shane smiled, not even bothering to hide his delight as he took in the image on his screen. It was a car shaped cushion sitting on top of a bed, and then another photo of a pile of snacks Shane knew had been purchased for one important reason.

“So, is Ollie excited to go to Cali?” Troy asked as Shane changed into his game day suit, the clothes for the airport packed for when they were dropped off there by Troy and Harris. “Harris said he’s been wired the whole game.”

“Yeah, he is,” Shane grinned, quickly tying his tie around his neck. “He’s drawn Ilya some pictures, and he tried to pack his own bag.”

“You repacked it?”

“Obviously,” Shane nodded, shrugging on his jacket. “He packed two pairs of shorts, one shirt, his swimming trunks and eleven pairs of underwear. Not very helpful.”

“Ah, he’s young, he’ll learn,” Troy said, pulling his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll go find Harris and Ollie, meet you out there?”

“Sure thing,” Shane agreed, and he chatted with the other members of his team as everyone got dressed and ready to head back to their hotel for the night. The team plane was due to fly the team back to Ottawa in the morning, but for once, Shane didn’t feel guilty about heading off by himself for a few days. This had been a long time coming, after all.

“Have a good time in California, Cap,” called LaPointe as he headed out of the door. Shane appreciated how kind the team had been about his trip and friendship with Ilya. He’d only confided in Troy, Harris and Bood about the romantic side of his relationship with Ilya, knowing that he wanted to discuss telling the rest of the team about his boyfriend while they were together.

Shane thanked him, and finally he was ready. He found Troy, Harris and Ollie in a side office devouring a portion of ketchup covered fries. He was still wearing his Hollander Centaurs jersey and Shane decided not to change him, deciding that it would be cute to see him wearing that in the airport. Over six hours alone with Ollie on an airplane was going to be a challenge, but knowing what was waiting for them at the other end was enough to leave Shane with a smile on his face.

****

“Hold my hand, please. It’s really busy, Ollie, and I don’t want to lose you,” Shane said as he pushed their passports into his pocket, clutching Ollie’s hand tightly. Thankfully due to the time change it was still only late afternoon in California, and therefore the airport was heaving with people. Thankfully, not many people paid him too much attention, and Shane pulled their suitcase behind him, heading for the exit amongst the throngs of people around.

“Daddy, I’m hot,” Ollie whined, but Shane shushed him, promising they’d get a drink to cool off soon. “Where’s Illy?”

“We’re meeting him at his home, we just need to get outside and get a cab there…”

It was normal for Shane to spend a lot of time in airports, but usually when he had Ollie, his parents were tagging along as well and three adults certainly made travelling with a four year old easier. Right now, though, it was all on Shane, and he could feel his stress levels starting to rise as they headed through the baggage claim area and towards the arrivals hall.

Noise echoed all around as Shane made his way along with the tide of the crowd, holding Ollie’s hand firmly in his own. He could see people running to their loved ones, or making their way over to drivers with names on iPads, but he stayed focused, intent on getting to Ilya’s home as soon as possible.

“Daddy, it’s too loud-”

“I know, Ol, won’t be long, we’ll be outside soon- Ollie! Shit!”

All of a sudden, Ollie’s hand slipped from Shane’s and he took off, Shane’s heart racing but then he heard something that made his heart sing as he watched his son run and jump into the arms of the person in front of him.

“ILLY!”

Shane froze, blinking at the sight in front of him. Ilya was here, hugging Ollie in his arms as he gave Shane the biggest smile, his eyes shining with excitement as he collected his thoughts and finally approached. He couldn’t believe that Ilya was here, that he’d come to surprise them at the airport.

“You’re here,” he breathed out, sinking into the arm that Ilya was holding out, resting his hand on Ollie’s back. “Oliver David Hollander, don’t you ever run away from me like that again, please.”

“Sorry, Daddy, but I sawed Illy! He was waving at me!”

“I know, but… we need to keep you safe, okay? Next time, tell me before you run off, you made Daddy very scared.”

Ollie pouted, looking a little sad towards Shane. “Sorry, Daddy. Was just excited to see Illy and give him a big hug.”

“But is important to be safe like Daddy says, Ollie,” Ilya said gently, and Ollie nodded. “It is good to see you, moya lyubov.”

“Moy loobov, what’s that?” Ollie asked, both men laughing at Ollie’s attempt at butchering the Russian language.

“It means… my love,” Ilya answered easily, and Ollie just nodded, wriggling down from Ilya’s arms, giving the men a few seconds to hug, resisting the urge to kiss each other in such a public setting. “Ready to go home?”

Home. The way Ilya had said that so easily sent shivers down Shane’s spine, and he wanted nothing more in that moment.

“Absolutely.”

Ilya held Ollie’s hand and took Shane’s case as they walked through the arrivals hall and towards the car park. Ollie chatted away about their flight, how much fun he’d had sitting next to his dad, and Shane just stayed quiet, enjoying hearing the two loves of his life talking together like this, so natural with each other.

They came to a stop beside a large black Audi Q5, and Shane turned to Ilya, raising an eyebrow at him. He hadn’t seen this car when he’d been at Ilya’s house the previous month, but somehow, the vehicle seemed very Ilya.

“I borrow this,” Ilya said, answering Shane’s silent question as he unlocked it, the door of the trunk rising slowly with a press of a button on the fob in his hand. He picked up Shane’s case effortlessly and put it into the trunk while Shane opened the backdoor, surprised to see a car seat already there, strapped in.

“I don’t wanna sit on that!” Ollie stated, and Shane looked down, glaring at his son. “Daddy, it’s a girl's colour!”

“Pink is not a girl’s colour, anyone can like pink,” Shane said, blushing at Ollie’s attitude. Usually, he was such an easygoing kid, so this reaction was a surprise. “If you want to get back to Ilya’s house, you need to get in.”

“I am sorry,” Ilya said to the side as Shane lifted Ollie into his seat, an expert by now at car seats after four years working them out. “I borrow this from person on team. They have a daughter, I did not think…”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Shane said, clicking Ollie’s belts into place. “Ollie is the one who has to say that he’s sorry for being so rude to you.”

“Illy, I am sorry,” Ollie said quietly, and he did look a little chagrined. “But my favourite colours is red and blue.”

“I know, next time I will get it right. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah!”

“Good. Then let’s go home.”

Shane and Ilya held hands across the centre console of the car as Ilya drove them through the gridlock afternoon traffic, in the direction of where he lived in Anaheim. Ollie seemed happy enough in the backseat, looking out of the window while Shane and Ilya talked easily, Ilya’s thumb tracing back and forth over Shane’s hand.

“I have missed you,” Ilya said, risking a quick glance across to Shane. “Facetime is good but not the same as having you here.”

“I’m glad that you invited us,” Shane admitted, bringing Ilya’s hand to his lips and kissing it gently in lieu of being able to actually kiss him right now. “Ollie has been so excited about this.”

Around forty five minutes after leaving the airport, they were finally pulling into Ilya’s driveway. Shane might have only been here once but it was all familiar as he got out of the car, the hot February sunshine beating down on him as he opened the back door, helping Ollie out. Ilya was at the door with their bags, and he swung open the front door, letting Shane and Ollie walk in first.

“Illy, your house is huge!” Ollie squeaked as Shane made him sit down to take off his shoes.

“You want a tour?”

Ollie nodded, and Shane’s heart felt full as he watched Ilya take Ollie’s hand, immediately heading off to show him around. Shane didn’t need the tour so he lifted his case, heading up the stairs to the guest bedroom he was going to be sharing with Ollie. As much as he wanted to share a bed with Ilya, he knew that Ollie didn’t always sleep well in new places and had resigned himself to five nights with a four year old.

He walked past Ilya’s bedroom, pausing as he looked at Ilya’s neatly made bed, smiling to himself as he remembered what they’d gotten up to together the last time Shane had been here. Maybe, if he was lucky and they were very quiet, he might be able to be with Ilya again while he was here.

As he pushed open the door to the guest bedroom, Shane froze. Instead of the soft blue bedspread that had been there before, the bed was now covered in a supercar themed duvet cover, along with the cushion he’d seen earlier as well as a Hammerhead Shark stuffy, no doubt from Ilya’s own team. Shane bit his lip as he walked in, leaving the suitcase by the dresser as he headed to the bed, lifting up the shark and shaking his head in disbelief at the thoughtfulness of the man he was so in love with.

“And here is your room,” came a voice from behind him a short while later, and Shane turned around to see Ollie gasp, little eyes going wide as he took in the sight of the covers Ilya had put on for him. “I know you like cars, so thought you would like this.”

“It’s so cool! Look, Daddy, there’s a Ferrari, and Lamborghini, and an Aston Martin! Thank you, Illy, this is so cool!” Ollie promptly took a running jump at the bed and landed squarely in the middle, making both Shane and Ilya laugh happily. “And a shark… wow. You are so cool, Illy.”

“Thanks, kiddo,” Ilya grinned as Shane walked over, hugging Ilya tightly. “Not too much?”

“Never,” Shane said with a shake of his head. “It’s perfect.”

As Shane had expected, Ollie had crashed early that night, exhausted from the excitement of attending the game in Boston, then a flight and drive to Ilya’s. They’d ordered in pizza as a special treat and had eaten outside in Ilya’s garden at his patio table. Shane had given Ollie a quick shower before he’d persuaded him into bed, both men reading him a bedtime story before he fell asleep. Shane left, kissing his head and pulling the door close behind him, heading down the hall to Ilya’s bedroom.

He walked in, finding Ilya spread out on top of the bed, wearing his boxers and a tank top that was definitely doing something for Shane. He turned and closed the door behind him, praying Ollie would give them at least a couple of hours together, then he stalked over to the bed, climbing on top of Ilya, straddling his hips as he leaned down, bringing their mouths together.

“Hi,” Shane said when he pulled up slightly from the kiss, feeling that they were both as turned on as each other, Ilya hard underneath him. “I missed you so fucking much.”

“I missed you more,” Ilya whispered, his hands slipping under the waistband of Shane’s shorts and inside his boxers, grabbing at his ass. “Fuck, Shane, feel so good-”

“I love you, and I want to talk and kiss you and hug you, I really do,” he said, sitting up and pulling his t-shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor and for once not caring where it ended up and in what state he’d find it in the morning, “but we’ll probably only get a couple of hours before Ollie is awake and I really-”

He cut himself off, cheeks flushing with how honest he was about to be.

“You really…”

“I really want you to fuck me,” Shane admitted, watching Ilya’s eyes darken at the request. “Please?”

Of course, Ilya didn’t object in the slightest. He rolled them over and pressed Shane into the mattress, kissing every inch of skin that he could find as they removed all of their clothes. Shane muffled his moans into a pillow as Ilya skillfully opened him up on his fingers, alternating kissing Shane with ducking down to take his length between his lips, sucking and swirling his tongue around the leaking head.

“Fuck, Ilya-” Shane gasped, throwing his head back as Ilya’s fingers found his prostate, working over it relentlessly, sending Shane wild with desire. As full as he felt with Ilya’s fingers inside him, he needed more. “Ilya- wait-”

Ilya stilled and looked up at Shane, a sinful line of spit connecting his bottom lip with Shane’s cock. “Are you okay, lyubimyy?”

Shane nodded, swallowing hard. “Just… did you get tested?” The two had spoken about it over the phone when Ilya had suggested they come to see him, and was thrilled that it was something both wanted. He so badly wanted Ilya in that way, so when he nodded, Shane grinned, cupping Ilya’s cheek softly. “Me too. So… no condom. You still want that?”

“Fuck. Yes, please, I want that so much.” Ilya’s voice was dark and raspy, and he got onto his knees between Shane’s legs, staring down at him with such reverence that Shane almost had to turn away from it. “Shane… look at me.” It took Shane a moment, but he did, eyes fixed on Ilya’s as he coated himself in lube before he lined up. “I love you so much.”

“Put it in, Ilya, please-” Shane begged, and Ilya just nodded, a hand on Shane’s hip as he lined himself up.

“I have you, beautiful-”

With those words, he started to push inside, Shane’s body opening easily for him. It was slower than normal, and Shane could see the concentration in Ilya’s face, and suddenly he felt worried, like something was wrong. He rested a hand between them on Ilya’s chest, saying his name softly. Ilya’s eyes opened and he looked down, his jaw clenched.

“Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“Trying not to make fool of myself and come too quick,” Ilya gritted out, and Shane laughed joyfully, pulling him down for a kiss. “Fuck, Shane, this is… feels so fucking good. You are so warm, so tight-”

“Keep going,” Shane urged, and he hooked his feet around Ilya’s hips, resting his heels on Ilya’s lower back as Ilya buried himself deep inside Shane, stilling when he was fully inside. “God, holy shit-”

“Good, hmm,” Ilya managed to get out, adjusting his position and tugging Shane’s thigh up higher around his hip, deepening the angle. “So fucking beautiful, perfect for me.”

Shane blushed and reached up again, pulling Ilya down into a filthy kiss, tongues seeking out each others. “Don’t go easy on me. Want it hard. Please.”

That was all Ilya needed to hear. They’d hadn’t had sex in weeks but it felt longer and right now, Shane just wanted Ilya to take him, to make him forget the time that had passed since they’d last been together. Ilya set a brutal rhythm, bodies sweating as they rocked together, trying to keep their sounds muffled by kissing each other, both too aware of the little person just down the hall that they did not want to wake up right now.

“Can I-” Ilya panted, brushing Shane’s hair from his forehead, kissing down his jaw and neck before he looked at Shane again, red faced and sweating with exertion, “where do you want it?”

Shane blinked, licking his lips before he managed to answer. “Inside me.”

Ilya’s necklace swung almost obscenely between them as he pounded at Shane, one hand tangled in Shane’s hair as he directed their kisses, the pleasure-pain of it almost too much for Shane. He could feel that Ilya was close, his rhythm getting sloppy now and he ran his hands up and down Ilya’s back, feeling Ilya’s soft skin, the moles littering his back like little stars, Shane wanting to admire and kiss every single one before he left to return to Ottawa.

“Shane- going to-”

“Want it, please, Ilya-”

“Love you, fuck, ya tebya lyublu, ya tebya-”

Ilya cried out as his hips stuttered, coming hard so Shane pulled him quickly into a kiss, swallowing down his noises, the sounds only for his ears. He felt a bit sore and almost oversensitive but he was close himself, needing to come too. Ilya collapsed on top of him for a moment before he propped himself back up on his elbows, making to pull out but-

“No… want to finish like this.” Ilya nodded and took Shane’s cock in his hand, working over him as he sucked Shane’s nipple into his mouth, Shane writhing underneath him, the sheets damp underneath him as he couldn’t lay still. “Please, oh god, fuck yes, right there-”

Ilya’s hand twisted up and down and he sped up, whispering filthy words and love declarations into Shane’s ear before finally, Shane’s orgasm hit him like a freight train, setting every nerve ending in his body ablaze. No one had ever caused this feeling in Shane before, and he felt tears trickle from his eyes, completely overwhelmed.

Ilya must have been concerned because when Shane was finally still, he pulled out, staring at him with concern. “Shane… did I hurt you?”

Shane quickly shook his head, wiping his tears away as he pulled Ilya up his body and into a cuddle, Ilya’s head resting on his chest. “No… just… feel so fucking good. Love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Ilya whispered in reply, kissing over Shane’s heart. “You are amazing, Shane. You are so good for me, so beautiful. I cannot believe I get this again, that we get this chance.”

They laid there until Shane felt uncomfortable, the sheets damp and sticky underneath him. Ilya pulled them off before he followed Shane into the shower, laughing gently as Shane walked awkwardly, feeling Ilya’s release leaking out of him, a foreign feeling he wasn’t entirely used to just yet. They cleaned up and made the bed together, collapsing back onto clean sheets in just their boxers.

“So, do you have plans for us while we’re here?”

“A few,” Ilya nodded, stroking Shane’s back as he shifted up close to Ilya, resting a head on his shoulder, the reverse of their earlier position. It was nice to feel taken care of, and he relaxed, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. “But mainly just want to enjoy you both being here with me.”

“I can’t wait to just live with you for a few days, to… be a family.”

“God, Shane,” Ilya grinned, smiling so hard his eyes crinkled beautifully, and Shane reached up, touching them gently because he could. “Cannot wait.”

“I’m really glad we found our way back to each other,” Shane said after they’d laid in silence for a while, the covers over them by now as the air con in Ilya’s room had chilled the air enough that Shane was feeling cold. “I thought it was going to be just me and Ollie for the next however many years. And I mean, I’d have been fine with that, but… this is better. Everything I’ve ever wanted.”

They were just starting to doze off in each other’s arms when there was a noise, and Shane stilled, his eyes open in the dark. There was a soft knock at the door, and Shane leapt up, hurrying over towards the door as Ilya sat up, turning on the bedside lamps as the door swung open.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Shane said, picking Ollie up immediately. He had his thumb in his mouth and his dark curls were all over the place as he snuggled against Shane. “You alright?”

“Woked up and you wasn’t there, Daddy,” he said, his voice tiny and quiet in the room as Shane walked them over to the bed, sitting down next to Ilya with Ollie still against his chest. “Hi, Illy.”

“Hi, Ollie. You want to sleep here with us?”

Ollie just nodded, and Ilya lifted up the duvet while Shane gently laid Ollie down in between them, his eyes almost immediately fluttering shut. Shane looked over to see Ilya looking down at Ollie in almost complete awe, a gentle hand reaching out and running through Ollie’s dark curls.

“I still can’t believe his hair is like mine,” Ilya whispered, eyes flitting to Shane’s and then back again to Ollie. “So curly like me, and dark like yours.” He smoothed the cover over Ollie’s already sound asleep body, then took Shane’s hand in his. “Is okay I said he could sleep here?”

“Of course it is,” Shane agreed easily, shuffling down the bed and laying his head down on the pillow next to Ollie’s, while Ilya did the same thing on his side of the bed. He stretched an arm over Ollie, finding Ilya’s hand. “Thank you for asking us to come and stay with you.”

“I should be one thanking you for coming all this way for me.”

“There is nowhere else I would rather be,” Shane said truthfully, and he let his eyes close. He was right where he wanted to be.

*****

“Daddy, I ate it all, look.”

Shane looked over to see that Ollie had indeed eaten all of the toast he had made him, and he nodded, Ollie slipping down from the table and running his plate over to Ilya, who put it in the dishwasher.

“Illy, can I get my surprise now?”

“Teeth first,” Shane called out, and he raised his eyebrows when Ollie stamped his foot on the floor, glaring at him. “Come here now, please.” Ollie reluctantly came over and Shane crouched down when he was in front of him, knowing his height could be intimidating, especially when he was cross. “If I see that again, Ollie, you’re going to have to spend some time in time out. Ilya has told you that you will get your surprise, but if you behave like this when I ask you to brush your teeth, I might have to say no for today.”

“But I hate brushing my teeth.” Ollie’s arms were comically folded across his little body, and Shane didn’t dare look at Ilya, who he could see muffling a laugh in the background of the kitchen. “Don’t wanna.”

“There are lots of things I don’t want to do, but that’s life, I’m afraid,” Shane said, unwilling to negotiate. “Go to the bathroom and brush your teeth, please.”

“No!”

Shane stilled. This was not like Ollie at all, and even Ilya had paused whatever he was doing just behind the pair, and Shane looked up, briefly meeting his eyes. He stood wordlessly and took Ollie’s hand, leading him past Ilya and out of the room, towards the guest bedroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled Ollie up next to him.

“I don’t know what is going on with you today, Oliver. You’re being rude, and I’m not sure why. You have to brush your teeth every day, that isn’t different because we’re staying at Ilya’s house.” His son looked steadfastly down at the floor, and Shane sighed, realising he wasn’t getting anywhere. “I’m going to give you two minutes to calm down and have a think about what is going on, and to get ready to tell me how I can help you if there is a problem, okay?”

He stood up and walked out of the room, stopping just outside the door so that he was there for Ollie, but out of sight for now. Ilya came over and Shane sighed, leaning and resting his head against Ilya’s.

“I don’t even know what is happening,” he sighed, shaking his head in despair. “He is never rude, and suddenly he’s turned into someone who has forgotten everything I’ve ever taught him. Shit.”

“Hey, is okay, he is a child, yes? They are tricky,” Ilya said, kneading at Shane’s shoulders. “Can I go talk to him?”

“Be my guest,” Shane offered, waving a hand in the direction of the room where he’d left Ollie. “I’m not sure he wants to see me right now, anyway.”

He hovered outside the room as he watched Ilya knocking, getting permission from Ollie to enter before he walked into the room, sitting next to him. Shane could see from the angle he was standing at, and he watched as Ilya didn’t rush Ollie at all. He just sat there, big and quiet and steady, Ollie’s small hand swallowed up in his own.

“I heard you and your dad had a hard moment,” Ilya continued, voice low, careful. “Those happen. Even to grown-ups. Especially to grown-ups.”

Ollie’s mouth wobbled, but he pressed it tight. “He was mean.”

“Mm,” Ilya hummed, not arguing, just acknowledging. “It can feel that way. What did he do?”

“Said I had to brush my teeth, but I don’t wanna. I wanna do fun stuff, like my surprise with you and play with my cars, and go swimmin’.”

Ilya nodded slowly, like this was important information, but then he started to reason with Ollie gently. “I understand this. But you must brush your teeth. Or they will fall out, and then you will not be able to eat nice food, and you will look funny. I have lost teeth in hockey games. Is not nice, trust me.”

That earned the tiniest flicker of curiosity. Ollie glanced up at him. “Really?”

“Oh, yes, I hated it,” Ilya said solemnly. “Terrible experience. Zero stars.”

Ollie giggled.

“But,” Ilya added, tilting his head, “sometimes people say we must do things because they are trying to take care of us. Even when it feels like they are being mean. Do you think your dad was trying to be mean… or trying to take care of you?”

“Take care of me,” he said eventually, very quietly.

“Yes,” Ilya agreed softly, “your daddy loves you and wants best for you. And for me, too. We are lucky to have someone love us and care for us so much.”

“Daddy loves you?”

Again, Ilya nodded. “Yes, and I love him. So when he says we must brush teeth, or comb hair, or eat vegetables, we must.” Ilya squeezed his hand once. Not too tight. Just enough. “Is because he loves us.”

“Is daddy angry with me?”

“Hmm, I think more sad than angry,” Ilya suggested, and Ollie nodded, Shane’s heart practically exploding in his chest at this entire interaction. “Shall we fix it?”

Ollie nodded before he frowned. “How?”

“Well,” Ilya said, glancing at the doorway for a brief second, where he knew Shane was hovering, listening in, “you could say you are sorry. That you did not mean to be rude, that you were just excited for surprise and did not want to spend time brushing teeth instead of having fun.”

“What if he is still mad at me?”

“Then he is mad,” Ilya said simply. “But he loves you more than he likes being mad, so I think he will forgive you. That is how dads work.”

Ollie nodded, playing with Ilya’s fingers still. “Will you come with me, Illy?”

Ilya smiled back at him, ruffling his curls. “Of course I will.”

Ollie stood up and wrapped his tiny hand around Ilya’s, holding tightly as they walked towards the door. Shane smiled softly, trying to show he wasn’t still mad, hoping to give Ollie some courage. It wasn’t often they fought like this, and it felt like new territory for both of them. Shane was glad Ilya was there.

“Daddy,” he started, his voice small and shaky, “I am sorry for being rude ‘bout doing my teeth.” He looked up to Ilya, who just nodded encouragingly. “I just wanted to go do my surprise with Illy, and I wanted to go now, instead of doing boring stuff like brushing teeth.”

“I know, but-”

“Illy says you tell me to do that ‘cause you love me. And he says if you tell me I need to do things, then it’s ‘cause it is good for me.”

“He’s right,” Shane agreed, crouching down and wiping at Ollie’s wet eyes. “Thank you for apologising, Ol, it means a lot. I love you.”

“I love you, Daddy,” Ollie said, hurrying forward and into Shane’s arms. He clung tightly around Shane’s neck, and he stood, supporting Ollie’s weight easily. Over his head, Shane looked up at Ilya - relief, gratitude, something softer all tangled together. Ilya came over to join them, wrapping his arms around both of them. Ollie pulled back enough to look at Shane. “Daddy, you love Illy. I ‘member you said it when I broked my arm.”

“You’re right, Ol. I do love him. And that’s still cool, right?”

Ollie paused, like he was considering it before he beamed and nodded. “Yeah! Is nice to love people. ‘Specially nice people, and Illy is super nice.” He leaned in, kissing Shane’s nose quickly. “Can I brush my teeth, then go surprise with Illy?”

“Sure, kiddo,” Shane grinned as Ollie ran off, bare feet slapping on the floor as he ran for the bathroom. “You are fucking amazing, do you know that?”

Ilya just shrugged, pulling Shane close, his hands on his hips. “Is easy when you are both so lovely. He is so much like you, Shane. Wants to understand reason for things, to know purpose. He is the best of you.”

Finally, much to Ollie’s delight, it was time to go and see what surprise Ilya had put together for him. Shane had been kept in the dark as well, and they all slipped their trainers on before they headed out of the front door, Ilya in a Hammerheads cap, while Shane and Ollie wore Centaurs ones. They walked across the front lawn to the driveway, and then Ollie froze.

“Illy… is that your real Ferrari?”

Ilya took Ollie’s hand and walked over, chatting as Shane followed just behind. “Yes, is my Ferrari 612. Is red like your cast was. I was thinking we could go for ride?”

“Ilya, I’m not sure-”

“I have car seat,” Ilya said proudly, opening the passenger side door and showing off the seat already installed. It looked brand new and Shane just blinked, unable to believe Ilya had done all of this for them. “I did research, Shane, I found safe car seat. Is called Pico, good ratings. Very safe, I promise. I will take care of him.”

“Daddy, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-” Ollie was tugging on the hem of Shane’s shirt, almost beside himself at the thought of actually getting to go in Ilya’s Ferrari.

“Here, you sit inside, I will talk to Daddy but Ollie?” He sat Ollie in the seat he’d installed for him and just waited, but Ollie was too distracted. “Ollie, please listen to me.”

Ollie finally looked at Ilya and nodded. “Yes, Illy?”

“We can only go if it is okay with Daddy. He is in charge, and we respect his decision. Can we do that?” Ollie nodded. “Okay, good. Now you wait there for me, do not press buttons please.”

Shane walked a few steps away, waiting for Ilya to join him. “You bought him a car seat. For your expensive Ferrari.”

Ilya nodded, looking very serious. “Yes, Shane. I found good one, spoke to dads on my team about it. Adams helped me install it, he is like Pike, has million kids and knows about parent things.” Ilya went quiet for a moment, then, “are you angry with me?”

Instead of answering, Shane grabbed Ilya’s face in his hands and crashed their lips together, the kiss rough, trying to show Ilya just how much Shane loved and appreciated everything he did for them. He pulled away, resting his forehead against Ilya’s.

“Angry? No. Grateful that I have the world’s best boyfriend who puts my son's safety first? Yes, absolutely.” Shane grinned, and he saw Ilya visibly relax. “Now fucking kiss me again before you take my son on a safe and well-controlled joy ride.”

Ila laughed then did just that, only breaking the kiss when he realised he was getting into a compromising position that wasn’t conducive to safe driving. “Save it for later,” he whispered, pecking Shane’s lips again before they went back to the car. Ilya made sure that Ollie was strapped in properly and made Shane double check everything before he got behind the wheel himself.

“Wave bye to Daddy…”

“Bye Daddy, this is the best day in my whole life!” Ollie shrieked as Ilya started the engine, making it roar. Ollie clapped his hands in such joyless abandon, it made tears spring to Shane’s eyes. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and leaned down, snapping a couple of photos of the two before they pulled away, Ilya tooting the horn as they disappeared from sight.

They returned almost an hour later, and Shane had sorted out washing the bedding he and Ilya had ruined the night before, made the beds, and cleaned up the rest of the breakfast dishes while he waited. He’d been scrolling Instagram on his phone and texting his parents when he heard the familiar roar of an engine and he walked out of the house, waving as Ilya drove the car back up the driveway.

He laughed when he saw Ilya’s jaw drop, taking in the outfit he’d changed into after getting himself too hot and sweaty from doing housework. He’d decided that it would be fun to tease Ilya and had gone into his closet, pulling out an old Rozanov Raiders jersey, pulling it on over his own shorts, legs and feet bare.

Shane walked around the car and opened the door, unbuckling Ollie as the little boy chatted animatedly about what it had been like to drive with Ilya in the beloved Ferrari.

“-and Illy made the engine make a loud noise, and people looked and pointed, they was saying what a cool Ferrari, and Illy said it made me look so cool to be in a Ferrari! Then we went for ice cream, and Illy got strawberry and I got vanilla. Then we drive more, and Illy let me beep the horn, it was ‘mazing!”

“And did you say thank you to Ilya?” Shane asked, and Ollie gasped, like he was horrified that he’d forgotten something so simple. Instead of speaking, Ollie ran around the car and jumped into Ilya’s arms, gripping him so tightly around the neck, Shane was almost a little concerned for Ilya’s ability to breathe.

“Thank you for the best day of my life, Illy,” Ollie said so earnestly, hands planted on Ilya’s rosy cheeks. “Your Ferrari is the best car, and you is the best person. I love you, Illy.”

Ilya looked at Shane wide-eyed at that, and just hugged the boy back before he wriggled down, running back inside for the colouring book and pens Shane had got him for the plane ride, that were currently on the table on the patio. Shane and Ilya followed him inside, hand in hand. They stopped just inside the doors to the patio, both of them able to see Ollie from where they were standing but Shane wanted to speak to Ilya alone for a second.

“Did that freak you out? Him saying he loves you? Because he-”

“I know, children say this all the time. He said at hospital too, but it was still special to hear, Shane. And… I think Ollie is easy to love, because he is part of you. That was the most fun I have had in one of my cars for long time. He has such innocent joy. Makes you realise how simple things are supposed to be,” Ilya finished quietly. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, arms folded loosely, but his gaze stayed on Shane. “It is easy to forget, sometimes.”

Shane huffed out a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. He has that effect on people. Wears you down with shark and car facts and juice boxes until you’re emotionally compromised.”

“I was, how you say, emotionally compromised before the juice box,” Ilya said, deadpan. Then, softer, “He meant it, I think.”

Shane’s smile didn’t waiver. “I mean, he’s four. He also told the mailman he loved him last week when he brought him his stupidly expensive kids magazine.”

“Mm.” Ilya tilted his head. “Did he ask mailman to drive Ferrari with him?”

“…No.”

“Did he ask to sit on mailman’s lap and hold the steering wheel with him?”

Shane’s mouth twitched. “No.”

“Did he look at the mailman like he had just had best day of his life with ice cream around his face?”

There was a pause and Shane wished he could have seen what had happened between his boyfriend and his son in the past hour. It sounded utterly perfect.. Shane exhaled, something quieter settling into his expression. “No,” he admitted.

Ilya pushed off the counter then, closing the small distance between them. Not touching yet, just there. “Yes well, then is not the same.”

“It’s fast,” Shane added, almost apologetically. “Everything with him is fast. He just decides how he feels and that’s it. I guess that’s kids for you.”

Ilya’s expression softened, something almost fond flickering there. “I like that about him.”

“Yeah,” Shane murmured, smiling softly. “Me too.”

“I did not say it back,” Ilya said after a moment.

Shane blinked. “I know. He didn’t seem to mind.”

“I wanted to,” Ilya admitted, taking Shane’s hand in his own, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. “But I thought… maybe that is not something I rush.”

Shane’s chest tightened unexpectedly at that. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, that’s probably good.”

Ilya nodded once, like that confirmed something for him. Then, after a beat, “But I think I will. When is right, when you say is okay. We have time, Shane.”

Shane looked at him again, really looked this time, and whatever he saw made something in his shoulders loosen. “Yeah?” he said, softer now. “That’s good, because I was thinking forever sounds about right to me. I love how much you love us.”

Ilya walked over and slipped his hands under the jersey Shane was wearing, running his palms over Shane’s flat stomach and up to his pecs. “I like you in my clothes,” he said, his voice gravelly and eyes dark. “Am luckiest man to have my Hollanders.” Ilya leaned in, capturing Shane’s lips in a kiss, only breaking away at the sound of a little voice floating inside on the gentle breeze.

“Illy, Daddy, stop kissin’ and come do colourin’ with me! I’m drawing a Ferrari!”

Chapter End Notes

Up next...

More California fun, surprises for Shane, and meeting friends and family...

Chapter 14

Chapter Summary

Swim lessons

His boyfriend’s jersey

Meeting the rest of the family...

Chapter Notes

Not too long a wait for this one :) thank you for the lovely wishes on the last chapter, I’m so glad you enjoyed it.

I’m a little sad that there are 3 chapters left of this little family to share with you. But hopefully they’ll all be ones you enjoy!

Please, as always, do let me know your thoughts in the comments. I’m just grateful you all love Shane, Ollie and Illy as much as I do ❤️❤️

The time in California had passed by far too quickly for Shane’s liking. Ollie had been on a high ever since the moment he was sat into Ilya’s Ferrari and his awe had barely faded since then. He’d been on his best behaviour, listening well to Shane and even Ilya when the occasion arose, and Shane was feeling a bit too comfortable in this bubble they’d created.

“You stay in bed,” Ilya insisted as he got dressed in the corner of the room, Shane still laying in their rumpled sheets. His worries that Ollie wouldn’t be happy to sleep without him had proved unfounded, and that meant Shane had spent the past three nights in bed with his boyfriend, cuddled up in Ilya’s arms. He’d even been woken to Ilya eagerly sucking him off for the past two mornings, and he wasn’t sure how life got better.

“You sure?”

“Of course, you deserve rest. We are just going to get groceries, then we will swim. I promise Ollie this if he eat all his breakfast.” Ilya walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, stroking Shane’s cheek tenderly. “I love you so much, Shane. I…” He looked down, a vulnerable expression on his face. “I do not want you to leave tomorrow.”

“Me neither,” Shane whispered, completely meaning it. He wasn’t sure how to even go about saying goodbye to Ilya, and how to go back to only seeing each other on phone screens until the next time they could carve out some time together. This has been-

“Illy, I’m dressed!” The door opened and Ollie poked his head through the door, beaming when he saw Shane was awake. “Daddy, you’re awake. Me and Illy had breakfast, he made me egg and soldiers. Now we going to the store, then we can swim. Can you come swimming with us, please?”

“Course I can. Give me a hug, please,” Shane requested, and in seconds, he had a four year old clambering all over him like he was a jungle gym, but Shane didn’t mind. There’d come a time when Ollie was too big to do this, and Shane quickly pushed that thought away. “Be a good boy, and listen to Ilya, please.”

“I always do good listening with Illy.”

“Well done. Right, I love you,” he said, kissing Ollie, then he grinned up at Ilya. “And I love you,” he said with a laugh, kissing Ilya too. “See you both soon.”

By the time Ollie and Ilya returned with their groceries, Shane was up and changed into his swimming trunks. He’d drunk the smoothie that Ilya had made him and left in the fridge and enjoyed a leisurely shower, getting himself off to the thought of the sex he’d had with Ilya the night before, where Ilya had insisted that Shane wear his Raiders jersey again, his last name splayed over Shane’s back as he’d eaten Shane out so enthusiastically he’d actually cried, coming without so much as a touch to his dick. Shane knew that Ilya was going to be far too smug about that one for days and weeks to come.

Shane had helped Ollie into his trunks and water wings while Ilya had changed, and they were floating about in the water when finally, Ilya joined them, jumping in and splashing both of them. Ollie screamed delightedly and paddled over to Ilya, wiping his eyes when Ilya finally held onto him, moving towards Shane.

“You okay?” Shane asked, but Ollie just nodded, arms wrapped around Ilya’s neck as he nodded. “I guess we spend more time around frozen water, huh?”

“Is okay, we can keep you safe,” Ilya said, and Ollie nodded, wriggling out of Ilya’s hold. “Can you swim to your Dad?”

Ollie did, although it wasn’t the best swimming Shane had ever seen. He vowed then and there to enroll Ollie in some swimming lessons when they got back home. He watched as Ilya lifted himself out of the water, throwing in a few inflatables which made Shane raise his eyebrows.

“And you have a blow up flamingo, why exactly?”

“I got it when I knew you were coming. I thought Ollie would like it,” Ilya said with a shrug, unwrapping the packet of another one. “Although I think he will like this one best.”

“A FERRARI!” Ollie shrieked, paddling frantically to the side and clambering out while Shane watched on in amusement as he bounced next to Ilya, who was trying to blow it up as quickly as he could using a small portable air pump. They were both dripping and Shane allowed himself to openly stare at Ilya, taking in the sight of him like this.

For a second, Ilya looked up from where he was blowing up the inflatable and he smirked, seeing Shane looking at him. Shane just raised his eyebrows, shrugging slightly, unashamed at being caught staring. He was allowed to ogle his boyfriend, right?

When Ilya was done, he set the inflatable on the surface of the pool, and Shane swam over, holding it still while Ilya lifted Ollie into it. Ollie laughed in delight as Shane started to move it around the pool, the four year old happily making car engine noises as he steered with the wheel in front of him.

“Illy, this is so cool!”

“I am glad you like it,” Ilya said, jumping back into the water, splashing Shane as he swam over. He stood a bit too close to Shane, his hands on Shane’s hips under the surface of the water and Shane bit back a moan as Ilya’s body pressed against his. “You like it too, Shane?”

“Mmm,” Shane hummed in agreement, finding his words a little hard to come by as he pushed his hips back slightly, trying to get a reaction out of Ilya, but the Russian stoicism was out in full force, fingertips digging in slightly more to Shane’s skin. “You want to push him around now, Ilya?”

“I am happy supporting you,” Ilya replied, and Shane laughed in spite of himself.

“Yeah, so helpful of you.”

After a while, Ollie tired of being in the car and decided he wanted to learn to jump into the water. He made Ilya and Shane demonstrate it several times, proving that it was both safe and fun before he got out, standing on the edge of the pool with his water wings on, looking uncertainly down at the water.

“Daddy, I’m scared.”

That was all it took for Shane to push out of the pool, going to kneel down next to his son.

“Hey, it’s okay, buddy. Can you tell me what you’re scared of?”

Ollie nodded, fiddling with the strings at the waist of his swimming trunks. “It’s deep, and I don’t wanna sink.”

“That’s what these are for,” Shane said, tapping his water wings. “They will stop you sinking, I promise. You don’t have to do this, Ol.”

“But I wanna jump in like you and Illy did,” Ollie said, pouting a little. “Wanna be a big boy too.”

Ilya swam closer then, resting his arms on the side of the pool, looking up at both Shane and Ollie. “I will catch you, Ollie. Can you jump to me?”

Ollie looked to Shane then nodded quickly, stepping over to the side of the pool, curling his toes over the edge of the tiles.

“Go on baby, Ilya will catch you.”

Shane watched and he could see Ollie building up his courage, looking between Shane, the water and Ilya. Ilya’s voice cut through, strong and steady, Shane filled with complete love for his boyfriend as he spoke to his son.

“I have you, Ollie.”

Apparently, that was all Ollie needed to hear before he took a big breath and then just launched himself off the side, arms and legs flailing. It was like slow motion for a moment, but Ilya’s arms were up and ready, catching Ollie just as he hit the water, keeping his head above the surface. Ollie spluttered for a moment then the biggest smile crossed his little face.

“I did it! Illy, you catched me!”

“I will always catch you and be safe place,” Ilya said, and Shane blinked rapidly, feeling emotional as he watched Ollie embrace Ilya, holding on tightly to the man he’d developed such a strong bond with in such a short space of time. “I am proud of you. See? Was scary, but you are brave.”

“Can you catch Daddy now?” Ollie asked, and both Shane and Ilya laughed.

Shane saw the glint in Ilya’s eyes before he spoke. “No.”

“No? Don’t let Daddy drown, Illy!”

“Daddy will not drown. But he is like flailing fish. Impossible to catch.”

“I do not flail,” Shane stated, looking down at Ilya with what he hoped was a stern expression. “I’m very graceful, thank you very much.”

“You make splash, very little progress,” Ilya continued, and Shane couldn’t stop himself from laughing at that.

Ollie giggled too, and Ilya adjusted his grip on the little boy, looking back up at Shane. “Also, I do not need to catch Daddy.”

“Why?”

“Because no matter what, Daddy always comes back to me. And don’t tell him,” Ilya continued, leaning in like the words were meant for only Ollie to hear, “but I think-

He cut off as Shane launched himself into the water next to the pair, splashing them and making Ollie scream in delight. He resurfaced, pushing his hair back from his face but Ilya grabbed his wrist, tugging him over and holding him close, an arm wrapped around Shane’s bare back.

“See? You always come back to me, moy lyubimyy.”

****

That afternoon, they were back in Ilya’s car, Shane squished into the back seat behind Ilya because it was easier than moving the car seat back and forth. Ollie had chattered away until Ilya had pulled into an unfamiliar parking lot, but Shane knew where he was, and he now understood why Ilya had been so insistent that Shane wear his jersey again, albeit a Hammerheads one this time.

“I still cannot believe you are in public in rival team jersey,” Ilya laughed as he dragged Shane across the parking lot, hand in hand. “Think I need photo to remember momentous occasion.”

“Fuck off,” Shane chuckled, his words quiet so that Ollie wouldn’t hear. He nudged Ilya gently to the side as Ollie skipped happily ahead of them. “Only for you.”

“Is this a rink? Ollie asked as they approached the entrance to the building. “I haven’t seen you do skating, Illy.”

“It is a rink, this is where my team play games,” Ilya said, walking inside and waving to a man a few steps away from them. “I thought you might like to see where I work. There is no practice today so should be quiet.”

Ilya gave them a quick tour of the place, the rink not too dissimilar from the home of the Centaurs, but he was clearly doing it to show off to Shane, which meant a lot. Ollie had laughed gleefully at photos of the Hammerhead’s mascot with various celebrities who had attended the games, and even Shane had laughed at a photo of a very unamused Ilya next to the enormous shark mascot, holding a birthday cake.

“And this is my office,” Ilya said, leading them inside. It was quite bland, the opposite of Coach Wiebe's office back in Ottawa, which was filled with lots of family photos, team photos and various newspaper clippings from articles about his team. “I do not work much in here, I prefer to sit by the ice, watch there.”

Shane walked around the desk, keen to see who was in the two small frames next to Ilya’s computer. He could see that one was clearly Svetlana, the woman who’d been Ilya’s best friend since their childhood, but the woman in the other Shane didn’t recognise.

“My mama,” Ilya said softly, coming and standing behind Shane, resting his chin on Shane’s shoulder. ”I have only two photos of her. I like to think she is watching me and proud.”

“Of course she is,” Shane said, turning his head and kissing Ilya’s cheek. “I wish I could have met her.”

“Me too. She would have loved you, both of you,” Ilya said. “She would be happy I have two people to love and who love me.”

“Illy, what’s this?”

They both turned, seeing Ollie holding up a little wrapped package.

“Oh yes, that is for you.”

“Ilya…” Shane said, but he couldn’t deny how much he loved that Ilya seemed to enjoy spoiling his son.

“Open it,” Ilya instructed, and Ollie did as he said, holding it up with a big smile when he was done. “Is Hammerhead jersey, yes? I know you wear Centaurs jersey to your dad’s games, but maybe at home, you wear this too?”

Ilya helped Ollie out of his shirt and into the baggy jersey, turning and showing off the name OLLIE across the back and-

“Your number,” Shane murmured when he saw the big 81 underneath Ollie.

“Is too much?”

Shane shook his head. “Not at all. Ollie, come here.” He sat down on the couch, Ilya next to him, and he pulled Ollie into his lap. “Do you know why this has the number 81 on the back?”

“No. Daddy, you are number 24, right?”

“I am,” Shane agreed. “When Ilya used to play hockey for the Raiders and for the Hammerheads, he was number 81. Like on the back of this shirt, yeah?” he said, pointing to Ilya’s jersey he was wearing.

Ollie gasped, realization setting in. “So I got Illy’s number too! That is so cool… thank you Illy, me and Daddy are matchin’!”

“You are very welcome,” Ilya grinned, clearly pleased that Ollie liked his gift. “And would you maybe like to go and skate now?”

The three made their way to the rink, and Ilya paused, seeing someone sitting rink side with a laptop balanced on their knees.

“Sorry, I thought we were alone.”

“It’s fine. You can introduce us, if you want to?”

Ilya nodded, and they approached, Ilya clearing his throat. “Uh, hi Vince.”

“Ilya! I thought you were taking some personal leave.”

“I am, but I have visitors, and wanted to show them rink. Uh, this is Vince Taylor, he is Hammerheads Head Coach. Vince, this is, uh,” He looked to Shane, who gave him a gentle nod, “this is my boyfriend Shane, and his son Ollie.”

Vince masked a surprised reaction well, and immediately stuck out his hand, shaking Shane’s. “I think I know who Shane Hollander is, Ilya, but it’s great to meet you, you’re a legend of our sport. And hi, Ollie, I love your jersey.”

“It’s got my Illy’s number, look,” Ollie said as he turned around, peering back at the three adults over his shoulder. “And that’s my name, Ollie.”

“Well, that’s super cool. Are you guys hitting the ice?”

Ollie didn’t give either Shane or Ilya time to answer. “Yes, I want to show Illy how I skate, I have lessons with my coach called Alex, and I skate sometimes with Daddy and Troy and Luca and Evan and Bood and…”

“You skate with the Ottawa Centaurs?” Vince asked, clearly amused by this notion.

“Yes, I am very good and score lots of goals, Wyatt is not always very good at goalie,” Ollie said solemnly, and Shane covered his smile with his hand. “But Bood is my favourite, and he is so fast.”

“Hey! I’m pretty quick too,” Shane said, and both Ilya and Vince laughed loudly when Ollie just shrugged. “Typical. Can’t even get points for being a cool dad now.”

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Vince said, shutting his laptop and tucking it under his arm. “But it was great to meet you Shane and Ollie, have fun with Coach Rozanov, okay?”

“Rozynov?”

“Rozanov,” Ilya corrected Ollie, but the boy didn’t seem bothered, running to the plexiglass and peering through it. “Bye, Vince. Catch you later.”

Ilya disappeared to find them some skates, and came back with his own and two pairs from the selection they loaned out occasionally. Shane helped Ollie into his skates and then watched Ilya take to the ice, skating backwards as Ollie got his balance, following him around while Shane laced up his own skates. They weren’t as comfortable as his own but they’d be fine for now.

He stepped onto the ice and let out a sigh, realising how happy he always felt whenever he had blades on his feet. He took advantage of Ilya looking after Ollie for a minute and started gathering some speed, lapping the rink. The silence was almost welcoming and Shane let his body do the work, muscle memory kicking in as he skated lap after lap.

“Wow, daddy, you are fast!” Ollie said as he started to slow, skidding to an impressive stop in front of Ollie and Ilya. “Illy, can you go fast?”

“Not as fast as your dad,” Ilya said, smiling at Shane. “He is best hockey player in world. You want to play some hockey?”

The two nodded and Ilya skated off, grabbing three sticks and a puck that he’d left at the side where their shoes were lined up neatly together. He handed Ollie the child-sized stick and let the little boy start to push the puck around, moving around on the ice with a confidence that belied his young age.

“Hollander genes strike again,” Shane commented, and Ilya hummed in agreement, skating so he was standing in front of Shane, able to see Ollie just over Shane’s shoulder but his entire focus was on Shane. “You okay?”

“Just happy,” Ilya admitted, and he leaned in, kissing Shane gently. “Am happy you are here. Feel like…” he trailed off and looked down to the ice, like he was hesitant to say something. Shane wasn’t having that.

“Hey, feels like what? You can be honest with me.”

“Feels like I am not so alone,” Ilya admitted, and Shane’s heart broke a little at that.

“You’re not alone, not now,” Shane said softly. For a moment, neither of them moved. Shane reached up, brushing his thumb just under Ilya’s eye, like he was smoothing out something invisible there. “I’m here, and Ollie is here,” he said. “And we’re not going anywhere. You don’t have to… carry everything by yourself anymore.”

Ilya’s breath hitched, subtle but there. His hand came up, almost hesitant, before settling at Shane’s wrist, holding it there, like he needed the contact, like he needed proof that Shane was here with him, in front of him, not going anywhere.

“You promise?” he asked, and it was so quiet Shane almost missed it.

Shane didn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” he said. “I promise.”

Ilya searched his face for a second longer, like he was bracing for the moment it would crack, for the part where Shane would take it back, or joke, or step away. Something in Ilya softened - really softened this time, and Shane just watched it happen in real time. Ilya leaned in again, slower now, more certain, and when he kissed Shane, it wasn’t careful. It was warm. Real. A little desperate. Shane couldn’t help but kiss him back just as hard.

Their foreheads pressed together when they pulled apart, breaths mingling in the cold air. Ilya let out a shaky exhale, and then another, like he was letting something go piece by piece.

“Okay,” he whispered.

Shane smiled, small and steady. “Okay.”

“Daddy, Illy! Come on, come and play hockey. Illy, wanna see how I shoot at goal?”

They both separated from each other, but Shane reached down, grabbing Ilya’s hand in his own.

“Oh yes, please. Maybe you can give me some tips for Hammerheads,” Ilya said, skating towards Ollie, Shane by his side. “Maybe we can win Stanley Cup with Coach Ollie.”

“I can’t be coach,” Ollie giggled, shaking his head, his cheeks red. “I’m only four!”

The three of them spent the next hour on the ice, Ollie showing all of his skating prowess to the two men, and then listened intently as Ilya tried to teach him some new tricks, including how to jump on the ice. The triumph in Ollie’s face when he actually managed to do it and land on his blades without slipping over was the best thing for Shane. He’d forced them to come off when he saw Ilya masking the pain in his knee, and pretended that he was too hungry to skate anymore. Ilya had flashed him a grateful smile and they’d skated off the ice together, changing into their shoes again at rink side.

They walked out of the building and into the California sun, squinting at the sudden brightness.

Shane paused, looking with heart eyes at where Ilya was giving Ollie a piggy back out to the car.

“Hey. Are you both ready to go home?”

Ilya looked at him, clearly surprised at Shane’s choice of words. “Home?”

“Yeah, home.” For a moment, Shane didn’t care about being ridiculously soppy in front of his son, and he said his next words unfiltered. “I told you, home is wherever you are, Ilya.”

 

Ten days later

Back in Ottawa, Shane was in the locker room, changing into his gear for practice. Ollie was back with Yuna and David, heading to the Farmer’s Market that afternoon. Shane had dropped him off a bit earlier than normal, hoping that he could get back home and have a couple of hours on Facetime with Ilya before he had to focus on game day, but his calls had gone unanswered, which had been disappointing.

“Where’s my little dude?” Bood asked as he pulled on his shoulder pads, strapping himself in. “Feels like we haven’t seen him in too long.”

“He’ll be here tonight,” Shane reassured him, honestly grateful that the team seemed to genuinely enjoy having a noisy four year old around. “My mom and dad are bringing him.”

“Oh good.” They chatted for a while before they headed out onto the ice, and Shane took the lead with Wiebe, always taking his Captain duties seriously. They practiced the lines that they would use in the game later that night against the visiting New York Admirals, and Shane had Wyatt in goal, with Luca and the rookies practising shooting goal after goal at him, determined that they were going to concede as few goals as possible during the game later.

“Uh, Cap?”

Shane ignored the noise and focused on his practice, but when the voice came again, he looked up, seeing Evan and Bood talking together quietly. “What is it, guys? We have practice, don’t make me insist on bag skates.”

“Uh, sorry, just… I think you have a visitor?” Bood said, pointing to his left, and Shane frowned, looking over. What he saw made him still.

“Fuck, this might be the most romantic shit I’ve ever seen,” Evan said as Shane came back to his senses, skating away from his team and towards the person standing at the boards waiting for him.

As he approached, he took in the familiar face, the blue eyes, the curly hair. It was quiet behind him and Shane knew that he was creating a bit of a scene, but he couldn’t bring himself to care right now. He collided with the boards, and gripped the top, blinking at the man in front of him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, and he watched the other man just shrug a shoulder, a small smile on his lips.

“I missed you. I had a day before our next game and I thought… I would visit. Is okay?”

“It’s always okay,” Shane confirmed, reaching up and grabbing Ilya’s face, pulling him into a kiss. “Fuck, this is the best surprise. I tried to call you this morning, but you didn’t answer-”

“I was on plane,” Ilya confirmed, cupping Shane’s cheek gently, just looking at him like he wanted to remember every inch of Shane’s face. “I came straight here, Harris let me in.”

“Harris?”

“Yeah, I swap numbers with Troy when we fly to Ottawa for Ollie when he broke his arm. I told him I was flying here, asked him to get me in.”

Shane nodded, willing himself not to cry at how Ilya had orchestrated all of this so that he could spend just a day with him. He’d never been anyone’s priority before, not in this way. Not in the way that a person would rearrange their whole schedule to spend just a few short hours with him. “You want to meet my team?”

“I would love that,” Ilya grinned, and he took Shane’s hand, stepping onto the ice as Shane led him over to where the Centaurs were openly watching the two of them by now, not even bothering to hide it.

“Wow, you guys are really subtle,” Shane laughed, coming to a stop and holding onto Ilya’s hand. “Guys, this is llya Rozanov, my boyfriend-” he cut off when Bood and Evan let out loud wolf whistles, and he just sent them a middle finger, blushing. “Fuck off. Ilya, this is Evan Dykstra, Zane Boodram…”

Shane proceeded to introduce Ilya to each of his team members on the ice, Ilya shaking hands with each and every one of them. It was sweet how the rookies seemed in awe of Ilya, sharing looks after they’d each shaken Ilya’s hand. Bood insisted that he and Coach Wiebe would finish up the practice, and Shane left it with his Alternate Captain as he skated off the ice, slowly so that Ilya could walk with him.

“Where is Ollie?” Ilya asked as he followed Shane to the locker room, holding the door open when he got there as Shane walked inside on his blade guards, the height difference between them a bit odd like this.

“At my parents. They usually have him on game day so that I can do practice and focus. How long have you been planning this then?”

“Only a day or two ago,” Ilya said, sinking onto the bench opposite Shane, openly watching as he changed out of his gear. “I realise we have a gap between games, so I want to see you. I miss you… my house is too quiet without you.”

“It’s only been ten days,” Shane chuckled, but his heart felt full at how open and honest Ilya was being. He deserved to hear the same. “But I missed you too, so much. I know we talk every day but it’s not the same.”

“No,” Ilya agreed, getting to his feet and walking over to Shane as he pulled up his sweatpants, his hands finding the curve of Shane’s bare waist. “On phone, I cannot do this.” He leaned in slowly, kissing Shane like he wanted him to understand how much he loved him, how much he’d missed him.

“Come and meet my parents? I mean, I know you met them at the hospital, but I want you to meet them properly, as my boyfriend, ” Shane explained as they parted, deciding to just say what was on his mind. “Ollie will be so excited to see you, and… I want to introduce them to the man I love. I feel like they’ve had so many questions since then, and I haven’t had a chance to be completely honest with them. I want them to see us together, to understand the reason I’ve been so happy.”

“You have?”

“I have,” Shane said, confirming it with a kiss. “I was going to talk to you about everything soon, but… I meant it when I said I don’t want to hide us anymore, Ilya. It's not like before, not when being together would have cost us everything. It’s different now, for me at least.”

“And me,” Ilya said, his voice slightly wobbly, like the truth of this was almost too much. “I do not have anything to lose now, not in the way I did before. Russia is not home now. You are, and I want world to know you are mine. So yes, please. I want us to come out together.”

Shane nodded, his heart racing. “The people that matter to me already know. Ollie, my team, my parents… I don’t want to do a huge thing like Scott Hunter did with his husband. I don’t need that, I don’t think either of us do. But I just want to be able to hold your hand, and kiss you goodbye at the airport. Some people won’t like it, but I don’t care. I’ve made my legacy on the ice, now it is time to live my life honestly and openly, with the man I love.”

“You say it like is so simple,” Ilya murmured, stepping even closer until there was barely any space left between them. “But for me… this is everything.”

Shane let out a quiet breath, resting his forehead against Ilya’s. “I know. That’s why I don’t want to mess it up. We don’t have to do anything all at once. No press conference, no big announcement. Just… us. Existing. Together.”

He reached up, curling his fingers into Shane’s hair. “You are very brave, Shane Hollander.”

Shane shook his head, smiling softly. “No. I just… don’t want to pretend anymore. Not about this. Not about you.”

They drove home hand in hand, Shane enjoying having Ilya back in his home town. He took the long route home, pointing out some of the places that had shaped his life so far. He showed Ilya his school, the park where he’d spent summers with his friends. He felt sad as he realised he’d never get to see the places that had shaped Ilya, but it just made him more determined to make Ilya as much a part of his life as he could.

“This is your childhood home?” Ilya asked as they pulled up outside, peering at it through the window.

“Yeah. I wanted to buy Mom and Dad a bigger place, but they like it here. So I paid off their mortgage, made sure that it was theirs. They’ve let me pay for a new garden, an extension but that’s enough for them. You ready to go inside?”

“As long as you are sure.”

“About you?” Shane asked and Ilya nodded. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

They walked up to the house hand in hand, and Shane knocked before he just stepped inside, never bothering to wait for an answer to his arrival. “Hey, it’s me. Shane.”

He slipped off his shoes, and Ilya did the same, and he listened, figuring they were in the garden from the distant joyful screams he could hear. He walked through the house, dragging Ilya with him and they stood at the doors to the garden, which were thrown open, Spring in full force.

“Guys, I’ve brought someone I’d like you to meet-”

“ILLY!”

Ollie flew up the garden and threw himself into Ilya’s waiting arms, his little legs wrapping around Ilya’s waist as they held each other tightly. Shane could see that Ilya had tears in his eyes, and he reached out, stroking his back.

“I missed you, Illy, are you staying? Are you coming to Daddy’s game?!”

“I am here tonight, yes, and I would love to watch his game. Can I come with you?”

Ollie nodded so hard that Shane was afraid his head would fall right off his shoulders. “Yes! This is the best surprise ever!”

When Ollie was done with his hug, Shane turned his attention to his parents, who had been watching on with interest. Shane took Ilya’s hand and pulled him over, grateful his parents stood up too.

“Mom, Dad, you know Ilya,” he said, and they both nodded, smiling gently at him, but there was a hesitance there that Shane wanted to remove for good.

“Yes, hello Ilya,” Yuna said, “I must say this is quite the surprise. Isn’t your team playing a game tomorrow?

“You follow Hammerheads?” Ilya asked, clearly taken aback, and even Shane felt surprised that Yuna knew Ilya’s team schedule.

“I follow hockey,” Yuna said, but Shane caught the light blush on her cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

“Mom, stop, be nice, please? Ilya has a break in between games and he flew here this morning to surprise me, because… well, we’re together, properly.”

“Meaning what, Shane?”

“Meaning we love each other and we want to spend our lives together. We want to come out, to be a couple proudly, because we’ve wasted so much time-”

Shane felt choked up at that, and he sniffed, looking to the side, willing himself not to cry again.

“Maybe this isn’t the smartest move for my career, but Mom, I’m done caring about what people think. I’ve been talking about retiring and… well, Ilya means more to me than hockey does. I’ve given my life to this game. Now it’s time for me to have something for me, a relationship that is real. Steady. Mine.”

Yuna and David nodded. Shane realized that maybe this was what his parents had been waiting on from him the whole time. A clear intention and declaration.

“I love him,” Shane said simply. “And I want a life where that’s the centre of things, not something I have to work around having. I don’t want to pretend he isn’t what I want, not anymore.”

It was David who spoke first, stepping away from Yuna and shaking Ilya’s hand before pulling Ilya into a hug.

“Welcome to the family, son.”

“You know Shane, all we ever wanted is for you to be happy,” Yuna whispered as she hugged Shane, holding him in that way that only a mother can. Shane nodded into her neck. “And if he makes you and Ollie happy… then you need to grab that with both hands, Shane, and never let go.”

“I don’t intend to,” Shane said, pulling away from Yuna, watching as she turned to Ilya, hugging him too. “Not again.”

They ate a late lunch together and then Shane left, heading to the rink himself. They’d decided that Ilya would go to the game with Yuna, David and Ollie, and something felt special as he walked into the locker room that evening. The thought that his boyfriend was going to be rinkside with his parents and his son made Shane’s whole body practically thrum with excitement, and it was obvious the team had noticed. Troy was the one to bring it up.

“Is he coming tonight?”

“Yeah, yeah he is,” Shane confirmed, smiling happily. “We’re not doing a huge thing about us being a couple, but we’re not hiding it anymore, either. He’s what I want. And me and Ollie… we’re his now.”

The team skated out for warm up, and Shane kept looking around, waiting for them to arrive. The rink was still filling up, and he skated over when their Captain Carter Vaughn stepped onto the ice, greeting him with a hug. He’d become friends with him and some of the other Admirals after Shane had been supportive over Hunter’s coming out, Shane setting the example for how many other hockey players chose to react to the news.

“I hear you’ve got a special guest watching you tonight, is it true Rozanov is here with your parents and your son?” Vaughn said with a grin, and Shane just nodded. “Happy for you, Hollzy. You deserve to love who you want.”

“Yeah, I do,” Shane agreed, both of them looking to the screens as they heard a loud scream fill the arena, growing until it was practically thunderous. “Shit, here we go.”

Ilya’s face was filling the screen, Ollie’s cheek squished against his, and underneath was his name, Ilya Rozanov, former Boston Raider’s Captain, Anaheim Hammerheads Assistant Coach, Stanley Cup Winner 2014, 2018, 2019. Ilya may have not played hockey in years, but that didn’t mean the fans had forgotten who he was. The camera zoomed out, showing he was standing with the Hollanders, and Shane’s heart thumped loudly in his chest. The caption on screen changed to read Ilya Rozanov with Oliver, Yuna and David Hollander.

“Go get your man,” Vaughn said, clapping Shane on the shoulder before he skated away, over to his family.

He slowed down as he approached the boards, and he returned Ilya’s easy smile, coming to a stop in front of them. Ollie reached out his arms, and Shane took him easily, kissing his warm cheek.

“This okay?” Shane asked, and Ilya nodded, but he was clearly nervous. It seemed like David had picked up on it as well, because Shane watched as his dad stepped up, putting a hand on Ilya’s shoulder in support. As he did that, Shane realised he didn’t have to allow someone else to comfort Ilya anymore.

“Dad, take Ollie?”

Ollie went easily, and this time, Shane pulled Ilya into a hug, just a little taller since he was on his blades. He felt Ilya’s arms wrap around him, and he held him there for a moment, ignoring the cameras no doubt pointed at them. It was Ilya who pulled back first, and Shane just looked at him, filled with a flush of love for this wonderful man who was putting everything on the line for him.

“I love you,” Shane said, because he could. “I should get back, but… I’m glad you’re here. That we’re doing this.” Ilya didn’t say anything so Shane started to skate away, but he was pulled back by a hand grabbing his jersey. He turned and felt Ilya pull him back into another hug, heard him press a kiss against his helmet.

“I love you too.”

Having Ilya and his family watching his game made Shane play with a passion he hadn’t felt in a while. It was almost like it was a final match, like the Stanley Cup or something was on the line because Shane played like he had something to prove. In the first period, he scored a goal and spun around, pointing straight at Ollie and Ilya, who were cheering and screaming for him.

In the second period, he gave two assists which Haas converted to stunning goals, leaving the Admirals goalkeeper in complete confusion over what had happened. The home crowd, though, were going wild, and Ilya and Ollie were shown on the big screens for every goal, jumping around together and proudly wearing their Hollander 24 jerseys, along with Yuna and David.

By the third period, Shane felt everything was going so well. The team were playing brilliantly, leaning into familiar plays that they made look seamless, and Hayes was being an absolute beast in goal, sending every puck that the Admirals aimed his way well away from the goal. With just five minutes to go, Shane realised there was something he wanted to try, something he hadn’t pulled off in too long. And today, with Ilya in the audience, was the time for it.

Shane lined up at the centre, focusing as the referee readied himself to drop the puck. Shane snatched it and took off up the ice, the Admirals hot on his tail. His heart raced as he flicked the puck over to Troy, heading for the goal himself. Troy’s shot missed the target and hit the goal post, pinging back out onto the ice. Shane grabbed it and paused, running the play in his head one more time.

The Rozanov was an infamous move by now, and Shane felt certain he could pull it off. He’d watched Ilya do it himself on the ice countless times, and had done it himself several times, but only in practice. Now, though… he was going for it. Shane lined up and faked a backhand, watching the goalie start to move before he switched into a lightning fast forehead shot, snapping towards the goal-

“Fuck!” Shane yelled as the puck flew wide, soaring over the net by just a few centimetres. The crowd were still cheering but Shane was embarrassed, hating that he didn’t manage to pull it off, especially with the man himself watching on. Shane couldn’t afford to let it derail his game, and he immediately went back to it, setting up a final perfect assist for Troy to send the puck home one more time.

The end of third period brought a decisive victory for the Ottawa Centaurs, beating the Admirals by 4 goals to 1. Their captain, though, didn’t look too disappointed by the defeat, and just skated straight to Shane as the final horn blew, hugging him and telling him how proud he was of him before he went to offer solace to his own team for their loss. It was a momentous night, and Shane was excited that this could be the future for him now.

As he always did, Shane skated back to his family and pulled Ollie onto the ice, laughing as he scrabbled about, going to congratulate his favourite humans Bood and Troy, who lifted him up onto their shoulders, skating him around at speed as Ollie clung on and screamed his head off with utter joy and abandon.

‘You were amazing,” Ilya laughed as Shane slammed into him, pulling him into the tightest hug. “You know…”

“Oh god, don’t even-”

“Is my move, Hollander. You should not try.”

“Fuck you,” Shane laughed, hating the fact he was certain his face was flushed. “You’re not playing anymore and the sport shouldn’t lose a great move like that. And we both know that I’m the only one who could try it.”

“Try and fail,” Ilya smirked, and for a moment, Shane realised how much he’d missed Ilya’s chirping.

“Is okay. You are still best hockey player. I have not seen you play like this since you play against me…”

“Obviously I had someone to impress, didn’t I?!” he grinned, hugging Ilya quickly. “I wish you could be here for every game, cheering me on.”

Ilya hummed non-comitally, but Shane was distracted from it by Yuna pulling him into a hug followed by David, both proudly saying how well he’d skated tonight.

A few of the Centaurs came over then, Ollie on top of Evan’s shoulders by now, but he climbed down when Ilya asked, settling into his arms like he’d always been there.

“So, Cap, coming out to celebrate?” Evan asked, but Shane quickly shook his head.

“Not tonight. Ilya has to fly home tomorrow so I want to spend time with him.” He ignored how his awful teammates were smirking at him, and thankfully, Yuna and David pretended to be suddenly engrossed in their phones, making Ilya laugh too loudly. “Now fu- get lost,” he said, quickly covering his almost curse word when he realised Ollie was listening. “You can celebrate without me.”

“We’ll take Ollie tonight,” David said as Shane was about to skate off. “You two deserve some time together. Ilya told us his flight is in the afternoon, so you can come by for breakfast if you want, eat with us then take Ollie with you to the airport.”

“Thank you, that’s really great of you,” Shane grinned, hugging Ollie again. “That alright with you, bud?”

“Baaba said I could have ice cream, and two stories!” Ollie screeched, so apparently, it was fine with him after all.

*****

“Oh fuck-” Shane panted out as Ilya slammed into him from behind, a hand pressed down between his shoulder blades, holding him against the mattress. “Fuck, Ilya-”

‘You okay?” Ilya asked, his voice hoarse and Shane just quickly nodded.

“Oh-Jesus Christ-”

They’d barely been able to stop since they’d walked in through the front door an hour earlier. Ilya had dropped to his knees the moment Shane had locked the door, pulling his suit trousers down to his ankles, grabbing Shane’s already hard cock from his boxers and sucking it down into his sinful mouth.

Shane had gripped Ilya’s curls perhaps a little too tightly, but Ilya hadn’t seemed to mind as his hand grabbed at Shane’s chest for purchase, creasing the fabric of his shirt as he worked him over, the noises in Shane’s hallway verging on sinful. He came with a shout down Ilya’s throat, and stood, chest heaving as Ilya pulled back, opening his mouth to show Shane’s release on his tongue.

Ilya had carried him through to the bedroom, and they’d both gotten naked, Shane returning the favour as he rutted against Ilya’s shin, already hard again and needing more. Ilya had refused to come, cursing in Russian before he’d managed to confess that he wanted to come inside Shane, that he hadn’t touched himself in the two days since he decided to make this trip in anticipation of being with Shane again.

Two thick fingers had opened Shane up, and having no Ollie in the house meant Shane could really let go and not have to stay quiet. He’d attempted to muffle his noises in embarrassment, but Ilya had flipped him onto his back, pinning his wrists to the bed as he demanded that he not be quiet, that ‘these are my noises, Shane, I want to hear how good I make you feel.’

It had quickly turned from something tender into something more rough, some more desperate, and it had been Shane who had pushed Ilya off, getting onto his hands and knees in the middle of the mattress, looking back at him over his shoulder.

“Show me how much you want me,” he’d begged, and Ilya had done just that. Now, Shane was sore, his muscles were burning from the game and now this, but he didn’t want to stop. Ilya kept ducking his head to press kisses up and down Shane’s back, fingertips digging into the soft flesh at Shane’s hips.

“You are so fucking perfect,” Ilya said with a gasp as Shane gripped the pillow in his fists, noises tumbling uncensored from his lips as Ilya slammed into his him, using all of the power in his legs and hips to fuck Shane hard. “Always want you like this, ready for me, taking me so good-”

“Only for you-” Shane got out brokenly, legs shaking as they tried to hold him up. He knew that he was close, but he wanted Ilya to finish first. “Want you to come-”

“Am close.” Ilya leaned right over Shane’s back, his stomach pressing against Shane’s hot skin, and it felt deeper like this, like Ilya was taking over Shane’s entire being and he was happily surrendering to it. “Oh god, Shane-”

“Love you,” Shane said, feeling Ilya breath next to his ear, pinning Shane down in the most delicious way. “Fuckfuckfuck-”

“Oh, Shane-”

“Oh god, I’m coming-”

They both spoke at the same time, and Shane shuddered as he felt and heard Ilya groan behind him, spilling hotly inside him. Ilya’s hand reached around and stroked Shane through his orgasm, coating Ilya’s hand and the sheets beneath them. They both panted as they came down from their highs, and Shane turned his head, letting Ilya kiss him before he slipped out of him.

Shane turned and looked over at his shoulder, wincing at Ilya staring at where he’d just been buried inside Shane, at the mess he’d made. “Fuck, don’t look-”

“Why? Is my masterpiece,” Ilya said with a flash of a wicked grin, a fingertip grazing over Shane’s entrance. “Is mine now. I like to look. And you like it too.”

Shane blushed, realizing that Ilya was right, he did quite enjoy looking at him like that. “Come and cuddle me.”

“The sheets-”

“Can wait, I need to hold you,” Shane insisted, and Ilya finally came and laid next to him, throwing a heavy arm over Shane’s waist. “That was so fucking hot.”

“Because we are hot men,” Ilya declared, making Shane laugh. “Am glad your parents took Ollie so I could enjoy you tonight.”

Shane covered his face with his hands, shaking his head in despair. “I don’t want my parents thinking of us having sex, Ilya.”

“Why? We are in love, is natural, yes? We are.. How you say?”

“A couple?”

Ilya raised an eyebrow. “No, Shane. Ah, yes. Lovers, we are lovers."

“No, Ilya, that’s gross,” Shane said, shoving Ilya’s shoulder. “And I don’t want my parents thinking of us as lovers.”

Ilay frowned. “English is weird language. Why is lovers bad word to describe us?”

“Just… no. I don’t know why but that’s just… awful to me. Boyfriends is fine.”

They laid in the dark for a while until Shane couldn’t take the mess, both of them stripping the bed before they showered together, Ilya using his fingers to coax Shane to a third orgasm of the night, almost coming dry as Ilya held him up against the wall. It was almost too much and Shane was openly crying with pleasure, unable to believe that he had Ilya now and that he was allowed to feel this good.

Between the covers, bodies pressed together from head to toe, Shane rolled so he was looking at Ilya, able to make out most of his features now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness.

“Hey, are you free next weekend?”

Ilya thought about it for a moment. “I have game Friday night, in Seattle. But after that, free until Tuesday, why?”

“Uh, Ollie and I are going to Montreal on Saturday, it’s Arthur’s birthday. I’d really like it if you’d come with us.”

“To see Pike?”

“Yes, to see Hayden, my best friend. I know you two didn’t always get on when we played before but we’re different people now. And I want my best friend and my boyfriend to get on, please. You’re both important to me, and-” Ilya stopped Shane with a kiss. “Is that a yes?”

“Is a yes,” Ilya confirmed, his right hand rubbing lazily across Shane’s chest. “Always a yes for you.”

 

Montreal - a week later

“Illy?”

Ilya looked back over his shoulder to see Ollie, who was strapped into his car seat. “Yes, Ollie?”

“Do you hate Uncle Hayden?”

Shane bit back a laugh and left this one entirely up to Ilya to deal with. He’d made his bed - he’d have to lie in it.

“Uh, no, I don’t. Why do you think so?”

“Because I heard you say to Daddy he is still the Metro’s fifteenth best player. I think he is good! He’s the captain like my Daddy is captain…”

“He has got better,” is all Ilya would say, and Shane snorted, focusing his attention back on the road. He spoke quietly, his words just for Shane. “Your son has bat hearing. I am going to become mute.”

“Or just don’t slag off Uncle Hayden?” Shane suggested, but Ilya just waved that idea away like it was a preposterous suggestion. “Won’t be long, then we’ll be there.”

When they arrived, Shane lifted Ollie out of his car seat and he shot off in the direction of the back garden, familiar with Hayden’s home and happy to let himself inside. The gates to the back garden were open and Shane followed, hand in hand with Ilya as they walked inside, Shane carrying the gift bag containing Arthur’s present in his free hand.

“Hey, man, glad you could make it!” Hayden called, and he came over, pulling Shane into a quick hug. “Thanks for coming all the way over here.”

“You know Ollie wouldn’t let me miss his bestie’s birthday party,” Shane replied with a grin, then glancing at Ilya. “Uh, Hayden-”

“Ilya, good to see you again. Just… don’t break my best friend’s heart and we’ll have no problems, okay?”

Ilya laughed and nodded, shaking Hayden’s hand. “I do not plan on it, Pike.”

“Good to know. You can put the gift over there on the table, grab yourselves a drink and something to eat… make yourselves at home. Looks like Ollie already has…”

Shane’s son was bouncing around madly in the bouncy house that Hayden had hired for the event, and his joyful screams put a big smile on the faces of both Shane and Ilya. Shane proudly took Ilya’s hand again and led him inside, over to the area where Hayden and Jackie had set out every possible drink choice people could want.

“What do you want?”

“Uh, Coke please,” Ilya replied, much to Shane’s surprise. “I do not want to get drunk at children’s party, Shane. Want to have clear head for you and Ollie.”

They went back outside and Shane greeted Jackie with a kiss to the cheek and a hug, introducing Ilya to her. Unlike Hayden, she’d never had much to do with Ilya before so it felt a little more like he was starting with a clean slate for her.

Most of the Metros were newer players and had never played against Ilya on the ice before his trade and subsequent injury. Still, they seemed pleased and a bit excited to meet a Stanley Cup winning Captain, even if it was someone who used to play for the Raiders. Thankfully, no one seemed to have a problem with the fact that Shane and Ilya were a couple, and after a while, the two began to relax, chatting with party attendees, including the parents of some of Arthur’s friends from school.

“Sorry, I know this must be weird for you,” Shane said after a while, taking Ilya away from the main group and sitting quietly, the two still keeping an eye on Ollie who was racing around the garden with a group of boys around Arthur’s age. Shane’s worry that Ollie would be left out of the older children’s games was clearly unfounded.

Ilya turned to Shane. “What do you mean?”

“Like, all this parent talk, and… school stuff. Sorry, I’ll try to-”

“No. You do not need to. I like this, being part of this with you. I love hearing you talk about Ollie and school and all of it. Don’t change yourself, Shane, because I love who you are, yes?”

“You are not going to make me cry at a kid’s birthday party,” Shane laughed, touching his eyelid to try and stave off any tears. “Oh, hey Hayd.”

“So how are things going between you two?” Hayden asked, sitting down next to Shane. “You seem really happy which is… weird, but good, I guess.”

“Really happy,” Shane confirmed as Ilya’s hand sneaked onto his thigh, squeezing gently. “It’s going really well. Ilya came to surprise me last week at the game-”

“Yeah, I saw the photos online,” Hayden laughed. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d be out and proud, Shane.”

“Never had a reason to be before,” Shane replied quickly, resting his hand on top of Ilya’s and curling his fingers around Ilya’s. “It’s nice to feel this way now, after so long.”

“And you, Ilya? This doesn’t, I don’t know, affect your career?”

“Eh, no,” Ilya said with a shrug, seemingly at ease talking about this, which Shane was grateful for. “Hammerheads are… good people. They do not care as long as it does not affect my work. Helps we are not in same division but… I told them about Shane, and they support me.”

Hayden nodded thoughtfully. “I wonder how it would’ve been if you guys had been out back then, when we played together.”

“Well, seeing as how that is literally why we ended things before, I don’t really want to think about that. I mean, I doubt it would’ve been like this-”

“What do you mean, ended things before… wait. No. No way! BOSTON LILY!” Hayden was practically yelling by now, gaining attention from around the yard. Ilya could not hold back on his laughter, drawing even more attention to their group.

“Yes Hayd, way. And I’m glad you’ve finally fucking realised that he was Boston Lily. It was always Ilya, or I guess Lily, for me. It always has been.” Shane said, holding back his laughter as much as he could at the look of disbelief on Hayden’s face at this realization.

“Daddy, I need the bathroom!” Ollie saved them by running over.

“Oh, okay-” Shane stood but Ilya gently guided him back down.

“I’ll take him. You … finish this talk with Hayden.”

Shane felt ridiculously happy as he watched Ilya and Ollie head inside, Ollie’s little hand wrapped around Ilya’s as he chatted away, red cheeked and sweating from running around the garden. Shane finally turned back around and looked at Hayden, who was giving him a smirk.

“What?”

“You. You’re so fucking into him, aren’t you?”

Shane blushed but he nodded, seeing no point in hiding it, not that he could even if he tried. “Head over heels,” he admitted. “He’s good for me, Hayd. I went years pretending I was fine, that I wasn’t missing him. And it was okay, because it had to be. But now I have him again, I’m not letting him go. Neither of us want to waste any more time. We lost so much and I’m not sure I could survive losing him again.”

Hayden just seemed to watch him for a moment, taking him in, his words gentle when he spoke. “I can’t believe this, you were together before? For how long?”

“Yes, for a long time, Hayd. Ilya and I first hooked up before our rookie season, and we ended it after he won his first cup.”

Hayden paused, looking at Shane before he spoke again. “You’re scared, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m still a little terrified but only in the best way possible,” Shane admitted with a chuckle, playing with the hem of his shorts to keep his hands busy.

“Good.”

“Fuck off-”

“No, it is good. That means it matters. That Ilya really matters to you.”

“He always has. But… that didn’t stop it falling apart before.”

Hayden stared at Shane for a moment, like he was realising exactly what had been going on all along, what had been hidden from him to protect both Shane and Ilya.

“But you’re not the same people you were before, either. You’ve both grown up, made lives, careers for yourselves. You’re choosing this. You’re choosing to love each other, and… fuck, even if it’s Rozanov, that’s a beautiful fucking thing to watch, Shane.”

That hit Shane hard, because Hayden was right. They had a choice now, and they were making that choice for each other. Before, it had all been a risk, and pretending he was okay with walking away had almost ripped Shane’s heart out of his chest. But now Shane knew what it was like to live without him, and he never wanted to do that again.

“I love him. I never stopped.”

Hayden smiled at that, reached out and clapped his hand on Shane’s shoulder. “Yeah, man. I know. You deserve this, Shane. You’ve given so much of yourself to everyone else - your career, your team, your parents… me. Now it’s time to put yourself first. Love him, and be fucking proud about it.”

Shane nodded, looking over to see Ilya and Ollie walking back towards them, hand in hand. “Oh, I am.”

Later that night, Ollie was asleep inside with the rest of the younger guests, and Shane and Ilya were outside around the fire pit that Hayden had lit, nursing beers while everyone around them chatted quietly. Shane had wanted to leave earlier but Ilya had promised to drive them home, that he wanted them to stay a while and enjoy this time together.

“I love seeing you so happy,” Jackie said as she came over, settling easily next to Shane. “You’re a cute couple.”

“Really, Jackie?!” came Hayden’s voice, and they all seemingly agreed to ignore him.

“Fine, sorry. I meant you’re a fucking hot couple.”

Shane muffled his laughter in Ilya’s shoulder, enjoying the look of despair Hayden was flashing her way. “Thanks, Jacks.”

“So can I ask how this is going to work, with you two living so far apart?”

“I will come to Ottawa as much as I can, when my team is not playing.”

“And Ollie and I will fly to him as well. We’ll do whatever it takes to make this work… we didn’t prioritise us before and we’re not doing that again. Not now.”

Jackie’s eyes were fixed on the pair of them, almost like she was seeing them properly for the first time. “This is real, isn’t it? You two are actually going to do this. Be together.”

“Absolutely,” Shane answered, his voice steady and sure. He took Ilya’s hand in his own, holding on tightly. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Chapter End Notes

Next up… the penultimate chapter.

The Stanley Cup final.
Ilya has an admission to make…
Ollie gets everything he’s ever wanted.

🥺😭

Chapter 15

Chapter Summary

Final game day

Big decisions while half awake

The end of goodbyes.

Chapter Notes

The penultimate chapter. How are we here already?

I love this one so much. I've read it back countless times and cried. I hope you do too, but in the best way, because my gosh if this little family isn't everything to me.

Thank you as ever for the comments. They mean so much to me.

You may have also seen that this is now a series... more Ollie and Illy to come!

Enjoy. xx

June

Shane stretched out in the empty bed, letting out a groan. He blinked as he stared at the ceiling, letting the reality of the day sink in. It had come around so quickly, and somehow, it was here already. The day that could put Shane in the history books as the most decorated Stanley Cup winning Captain of all time and the thought of it filled Shane with a level of pride he’d never expected to feel in his lifetime.

“Good morning, solnyshko,” Ilya said, walking into the bedroom with a beautiful smile on his face. He came and sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over, kissing Shane gently. “You sleep okay?”

Shane nodded, shifting until he was sat up, the sheets pooling around his lap. He could see the dark shadow of a hickey on his hip that Ilya had left last night, and he smiled to himself that he could wear Ilya’s marks and not care about it anymore. “Yeah, I’m surprised but I did. Maybe you wore me out.”

“I have my uses,” Ilya replied, waggling his eyebrows and making Shane laugh. “I have fed Ollie, he is watching tv. Said we will join him soon.”

“I love you being here. It feels right, you being here today, with us.”

“Yes, is very right. Would not want to be anywhere else.” Ilya’s hand found Shane’s cheek and he nuzzled it gently, almost wishing he didn’t have to get up and start what might be one of the most important days of his life. “Okay. Up and shower, then breakfast.” Shane whined, but Ilya just chuckled. “I know. But tomorrow, no matter what happens, we spend day in bed together.”

“Promise?”

“Oh, I promise,” Ilya whispered, leaning in and bringing their lips together. “Will make you forget either way. But… you’re going to win. I feel it.”

“Shit. I hope so. I know I’ve done this before but this one feels really special, you know? My fifth. No other Captain has done that. And Ollie will be there tonight watching me, my parents, …you. I want to make you all proud of me.”

“We already are, Shane. I am so proud watching you on ice, leading your team. Is going to be amazing to be there tonight. I have not been at final game for so long. Feels like long ago memory now.”

“You going to be okay watching it?”

Ilya just stared at him for a moment before he spoke. “You think I did not watch every time you win a cup, Shane? I would never miss it.”

“You… watched my games?”

“As much as I could. I was always so proud. But makes me so happy to know I will be there today, at rink side watching with Ollie. Supporting you. I am already so proud, and will only get bigger and bigger tonight.”

“I love you,” Shane whispered between them, pulling Ilya down into his arms. “I love you so fucking much.”

Reluctantly, Shane got himself out of bed and into the shower while Ilya headed back downstairs to entertain Ollie. Shane had tried hard to persuade Ilya into the shower with him but his ridiculous boyfriend had refused, promising they’d make up for it later. Shane had gone through his usual routine, trying to keep everything about his day normal, even when he knew nothing was.

“Smoothie, fruit, tea,” Ilya said, setting down the items in front of Shane at the table. Ollie ran into the room and grinned at Ilya before he jumped into the chair next to Shane. “You are still hungry, martyshka?”

“What’s that, Illy?”

“Uh, means little monkey,” Ilya admitted through a laugh. “You want fruit?”

“Yes, please. Daddy, when we going to the rink?”

“Later. Remember, you’re heading there with Ilya, Baaba and Grandpa, okay? I have to go early by myself.”

“Okay, Daddy. Thank you, Illy, strawberries are my favourite.”

“I know. I will take you to the park later when Daddy goes to pre-game.” Ilya glanced over to Shane. “Uh, I mean, if it is okay?”

“Hey, quit that. You know you don’t need to ask me, Ilya. I’m leaving him with you for a reason. I trust you.”

Ilya was blushing but Shane knew he would deny it if he mentioned it. “Thank you.”

Ilya’s team had played their last game back at the end of April as they hadn’t made the playoffs in the western division, and the very next morning he’d arrived in Ottawa, texting Shane that he was on his way over from the airport. Ollie had been beside himself with excitement and had launched himself at Ilya the moment he stepped out of the car, not letting go until Shane had pulled him off, needing his own hug with his boyfriend.

It had been almost two months since then, and Ilya hadn’t left. Shane was beginning to get used to falling asleep and waking up next to Ilya, and he knew that Ollie was loving having Ilya around as well. The two seemed to have a special bond, and Shane loved that Ollie asked for Ilya to read his bedtime stories on some nights, and that he had someone to take it in turns to cook with.

Yuna and David had also embraced Shane’s boyfriend, and they’d been over for a few family dinners. There was something perfect about the way Shane’s table was full of the people he loved, and how accepting everyone was of each other. Yuna had made a special effort to talk to Ilya about the Hammerheads, listening to Ilya tell her how his career as Video Coach worked now. David had been his usual self, paying attention to the small things, joining Ilya and Ollie when they were completing some of the boy’s puzzles after dinner.

It was a life Shane had never thought he’d ever have. He’d been content, being a single dad and playing hockey with the best team in the MHL. He had good friends, parents who supported him more than he could ask for, but… he could admit now that he’d been lonely. Sure, he was surrounded by people all day, every day, but there was no one for Shane to come home to, to prioritise him and take care of him.

He’d made the choice not to pursue a relationship when Ollie had come into his life, and Shane had never regretted it. Ollie had been his whole world, his purpose, the reason he got up every morning. Love had taken a different shape then, and he’d been content with that. What Shane had never expected, never even dared to hope for, was finding Ilya again. Not after the years apart. Not after the lives they’d lived, trying to forget each other. Yet somehow, against the odds, fate had brought them back together.

The years that they’d spent apart dissolved into nothing, and all the pain of the past seemed to fade beneath a simple truth that this felt like it was always meant to be. That they were meant to find their way back to each other in this lifetime. The last nine months had been the happiest Shane could remember. Every moment he spent with Ilya was more precious because he knew how easily it might not have happened at all. He still didn’t know what the future would look like, or how this was going to work for them.

For now, he was going to make the most of having Ilya with him until the start of the next season. All he knew is that both of them would do whatever it took to make their relationship work. Because fate had given them a second chance, and Shane knew one thing with absolute certainty: he wanted to hold on to it with everything he had. He wanted more mornings, more laughter, more years. More of Ilya. He’d fly to California, Ilya would fly back to Ottawa as often as he could. It would be a struggle, but Shane knew that it would be worth it… especially if he went through with retiring, as he’d been thinking about more and more lately. Shane knew that whatever happened tonight would tip the scales one way or the other.

******

 

4pm

“Final questions, please guys,” Harris called out, and Shane appreciated that Harris was bringing an intense media session to a close. “Uh, Tanya and… Greg.”

“Shane, how does it feel to know that if you win tonight, you’ll be heading into the history books as the most successful Captain in the history of the MHL, famous as the man who has led his teams to the most Stanley Cups?”

“It’s a lot of pressure,” Shane admitted, believing in honesty. “But I welcome it, it drives me. I’m so proud of the four Cups I’ve won with the Metros and the Centaurs. But I think this one would be really special. I know the team is in a good place, we’ve been working so hard and it’s showing on the ice. We just have to keep our heads, play a good game and not get ahead of ourselves.”

The interviewer smiled, clearly pleased with Shane’s answer. “Thank you. Best of luck tonight, Captain.”

Troy fielded the last question, and when they were done, Shane exhaled, rolling his shoulders slowly like he was trying to rid himself of the physical weight of the day. It was getting heavier the closer they got to the start of the game, but in some sort of way, Shane welcomed it, using it to channel his thoughts and his focus.

“Good answers, Cap,” Troy said, bringing Shane back to reality as they headed back to the locker room to wash up after practice. “I don’t know how you hold your cool sometimes.”

“Years and years of practice. Raising a four year old also helps with patience, believe me,” Shane laughed, pausing just outside the locker room door as Troy reached for his arm.

“Hey. You good?”

There it was. A question directed at Shane that meant something, that was for him and no one else. One that showed he mattered as a person, not just as a Captain. Troy really was the best friend he could have asked for.

Shane hesitated, just for a second. “Yeah. I am.”

Troy nodded. “Good, because I’d hate for you to become a historical success while spiralling emotionally. That’d be a bad look.”

“Terrible PR,” Shane joked, cracking a smile. They walked into the locker room, and Shane took a minute to look at the men he’d worked beside all year, who inspired him every day to be a better Captain, who he so badly wanted to lead to another victory tonight.

Every single man in that locker room had given him everything this season - blood, sweat, tears and their trust. Shane didn’t take that lightly. Every single one of them had followed his every word, blindly trusting in his ability to steer them in the right direction.

That mattered more than anything. More than records, more than making history.

A few hours later, Shane was back in the locker room, pulling on his hockey gear for the final time that season, maybe for good. He’d been thinking about it non stop, what life might look like for him, Ollie and Ilya if he decided tonight that this was enough, that he could retire on a high. The possibilities were almost too much for Shane to handle, but that was something for after tonight. Tonight was all about the Stanley Cup.

The locker room was much quieter than usual, like the players could feel the weight of what was going to happen in just a few hours' time. Only three periods stood between them and history, and Shane knew that every single man in that room understood the gravity of what was happening tonight. Jerseys were pulled on, sticks were taped and skates were laced. They were ready.

“Okay, You’ve heard it all before so I’m going to keep it as short as I can,” Shane started, raising his voice until the quiet hum of conversation around him quietened to nothing at all. Every pair of eyes in the room were on him, and Shane let out a slow exhale, letting the moment sink in. “We’ve done the work this season. Every early morning, every extra drill, every night that we stayed out on the ice later than anyone else - we’ve earned being here. No one gave us this. We fucking earned it.”

He looked around the room, slowly, deliberately.

“And yeah, people are talking about records, about history. About what this means for me.” He stopped, shaking his head slightly. “That’s not what this is, not for me. Not really. This is about us. All of you. This team, what we have right now in this locker room, that’s why we’re here. Not just talent, even though you’re the most talented group of people I’ve ever played with. It’s more than that.”

“Fuck yes-” Troy yelled, and everyone laughed, breaking the tension that had been growing with Shane’s passionate words.

“It’s not just talent, it’s certainly not luck. It’s trust. It’s the way we all show up for each other, every single night. The way we never quit, even when it seems hopeless or too hard. We don’t quit a game, and we don’t quit on each other.”

Shane sighed, continuing to speak from the heart. “We’ve lifted this cup before. We know what that feels like. It’s amazing, sure. But that isn’t what I remember most of all. Not the crowd, not the headlines. It’s this. This room, us. The people you do it with. The ones who were there with you every day, for every win, every loss, every moment where it was hard.”

“So if you take anything out there tonight, take that with you. Not pressure from me or yourselves. Not expectation. Take each other. We don’t need to be perfect. We just need to be us. We play our game, the way we’ve always played it. We know who we are, why we’re here. So tonight, we go out there and play like we know that, no hesitation. No doubt.”

The men nodded but stayed quiet, hanging off their Captain’s every word. Shane paused for a moment, looking around, meeting their eyes one by one, wanting each and every one of them to know how important they were to the team, to him.

“Whatever happens tonight,” he said, his voice lower, stronger now, “we do it together. This is what we’ve been working towards all year. This is the moment we’ve all been dreaming about. When we’re exhausted, when we’re hurt, wondering if it’s all worth it.”

He could feel himself getting emotional, but Shane didn’t care. He wanted his team to know how much this meant to him, how affected he was by tonight.

“It is worth it. So we go out there tonight, and we take it together, giving everything until we have nothing left to give. Because we’re the fucking Ottawa Centaurs. And this is our fucking Cup.”

There was silence for a second then-

The room just erupted. Sticks were slamming against the floor, voices were shouting, yelling out words of encouragement, of agreement with Shane’s words. The rise in energy felt almost electric, and Shane looked around, chest swelling with pride at the men around him.

They all put on their helmets and headed out of the door, out to the biggest night of the season so far. Shane waited until last, and as Troy brought up the back of the group, he paused, quickly pulling Shane into a hug.

“So fucking proud to be led by you, Captain,” he said, knocking his helmet against Shane’s before he went off after Bood, Shane letting the door close behind him. This was it. Months of work had come down to this one game, and he was going to give it absolutely everything he had.

Skating onto the ice was something special. The roar of the hometown crowd felt louder than usual, and Shane appreciated how the crowd even cheered when the Colorado players took to the ice as well, all of them waving at the people gathered to watch the game. Shane skated straight over to their Captain and welcomed him, both vowing to have the best game they could manage. The Centaurs had the advantage of being up three games to one, but that didn’t mean Colorado was going down lightly.

As the players around him started to warm up, Shane’s eyes raked around, looking for the people he wanted to see. He spotted them and grinned widely, seeing Ilya standing with Ollie on his hip, Yuna and David by his side. He went to skate over but Ilya held up his hand, stopping Shane in his tracks. Slowly, they all turned around and Shane bit his lip, unable to quite believe what he was seeing.

Yuna and David were wearing their usual Hollander jerseys, but Ollie was now wearing one that said DADDY with the number 24 underneath, and Ilya… he was wearing one that simply said SHANE with the number 24 underneath as well. Shane knew that the thousands of people in the arena were watching so he just skated over, his legs feeling wobblier than he would ever admit to before a game of this importance.

“I can’t believe you did this,” Shane said as he came to a stop, Ilya and Ollie facing him again now. “Ilya-”

“Me and Illy gotted them made for us! I wanted Daddy on mine, and he said he could have Shane, ‘cause that’s your name. You like it, Daddy?”

“I love it so much,” Shane grinned, taking Ollie from Ilya’s arms for a moment. “My boys with my name. Christ, I can’t get emotional now-”

“Is okay, is manly to cry,” Ilya shrugged, making all of them laugh. “How did your speech go?”

Shane nodded, wishing that just once, he’d been able to hear one of Ilya’s speeches in the Raiders locker room. He was sure it would’ve been a lot more rousing than his own somehow. “Yeah, I think it was good. I just spoke from the heart. Told them that they can win this, that they’ve earned it. Now let’s just see what happens.”

“I love you, Shane,” Ilya said, dropping his voice. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

“Me too, but… later, okay? Sorry, what was that, Ollie?”

“Illy, give me a kiss.” Ilya frowned at the sudden command, looking at Shane who just shrugged. “Illy, kiss my cheek.”

Shane leaned over so that Ilya could do so, but what Ollie did next surprised both of them. He turned his head and pressed the cheek that Ilya had kissed against Shane’s, holding Shane’s face for a moment like he was sharing their kiss.

“See, Illy? Now you kissed Daddy.”

“God, I love you, you crazy child,” Shane laughed, squeezing Ollie just a little tighter. “You’ve got such a big heart, my boy.”

“Hey little man,” Troy called as he skated over, ruffling Ollie’s hair. “Cap, I think Hayes and Bood wanted to run something past you. You free to come over?”

“Sure,” Shane said, passing Ollie back over the boards and safely into Ilya’s arms. “Hey, you like my boys’ shirts?”

They turned around again, and Shane watched a wide smile cross Troy’s face. “I love it. I’ll make sure Harris gets a photo of them later.”

They all wished the gathered group goodbye, and skated off. The teams lined up on the ice for the Canadian National Anthem, and Shane sang proudly, soaking in each and every moment like it would be his last. Before he knew it, the game was ready to begin and he skated to centre, heart racing in his chest as he waited for the puck drop. It could have been loud but Shane couldn’t hear a thing. His head was quiet, eyes laser focused, hands gripping his stick like it was an extension of his own body. He was ready.

As soon as the game began, Shane remembered exactly why he loved this game so much. There was something about the way he could let his body move of its own accord, his brain just seeing everything slowly, almost a step ahead of every play without entirely meaning to be. The sharp scrape of skates carving into fresh ice, the sting of cold air in his lungs, and the crack of stick against puck all settled something deep in him. This was where everything made sense. Colorado were good, but Shane and the Centaurs were better. That wasn’t being conceited, it was just fact.

The arena thrummed around them, glass rattling every time someone got pinned hard into the boards. A chorus of shouting fans blurred into white noise beneath the announcer calling line changes overhead. Shane barely registered any of it. His focus narrowed to the black puck skipping across the ice, to the opening seams in Colorado’s defence, to the instinctive knowledge of where his teammates would be before they even got there.

Every time Shane turned to make a pass, Haas or Troy were there, ready to receive it, heading smoothly and slickly down the ice. The puck flew between them with effortless precision, ricocheting off sticks. The Colorado goalie never saw them coming, and it was like poetry in motion, watching it all unfold. They’d worked hard all year, learnt to read each other, and now they were reaping the benefits.

The Centaurs were playing well but so were the Colorado team. They met each and every one of the Centaurs plays with passion and skill, and blocked more goals than Shane cared for. Hayes was absolutely on fire as well, and was a human shield in the Centaurs goal, only conceding one in the first two periods. As Troy sent another puck into the goal, Shane grinned in spite of himself as the team swarmed their player, celebrating the goal. It was fast, brutal and beautiful. Controlled chaos, in the best way. Out here, under the lights with the ice shining bright and the game moving faster than thought, there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

In the locker room between the second and final period, the Centaurs sat eating protein bars and drinking Gatorade, trying to fuel their bodies for the third and final punishing game. It all came down to this. The last twenty minutes. Time to go and make history. It was this sort of pressure that drove Shane, and he sat lost in his own head, focusing on the weight of his gear, the tightness of his skates on his feet.

“We’re two to one up,” Troy said, getting to his feet when it was clear that Shane wasn’t going to say anything more to the team, in his own head now. “Don’t take it for granted. Don’t let up for a single fucking second until that whistle tells us that it’s over.”

Troy walked around the room, shaking hands with each player until finally, he stood in front of Shane. It was a strange moment, like Troy knew that this might be the last time he got to do this by Shane’s side.

“It’s been an honour, Captain.”

Shane just about managed to nod his head and stood, hugging Troy quickly as the rest of the team got ready, throwing empty packets and bottles into their cubbies for later. Shane knew that the minute they left, people would be in here and covering up the stalls with plastic, protecting them from any champagne onslaught if they were lucky enough to win.

Before he left, Shane turned and looked into his stall, seeing the small picture of Ilya and Ollie he’d pinned there the day before. It had been taken by Yuna on her Polaroid camera, a Christmas gift that David had given her that she hadn’t tired of just yet. She’d taken it in their garden, Ilya with Ollie on his lap, patiently teaching him to make a daisy chain. Their cheeks were pressed together, and it was a perfect picture, if you asked Shane. His boys. His family.

The atmosphere in the arena was at fever pitch as both teams hit the ice again, everyone sensing the importance of this next twenty minutes. Shane’s line were on the ice, and he could feel the eyes of the rest of the Centaurs on them. But Shane had to focus, he had to treat this like any other moment, because if he didn’t, he knew he’d crumble. He couldn’t do that. He didn’t even look back at Ollie, Ilya and his parents because he had a horrible feeling his resolve would fail if he did. Hockey. That was all he could think about.

*****

Shane, sweating and red-faced, risked a quick glance up to the screen and saw there was just over a minute left in play. The score was four-two now to the Centaurs, but Shane refused to believe they had it in the bag yet. Colorado could still pull out something special and send them to overtime, and that was the last thing he wanted. Shane wanted this to end, and that meant skating hard for every single second left of the game.

Shane looked over to Coach Wiebe and gave the nod, knowing that the other man would know exactly what he wanted. They’d talked about it earlier before the game, in case of necessity, and while Shane knew it was a risk, he wanted to end this with control, and now was the time.

Coach yelled out instructions, Wyatt understanding immediately what was happening and why. He skated over to the bench and hopped over far too easily for someone wearing the amount of gear that he was. As he went over, Tanner Dillon hopped the boards onto the ice and skated out, joining Shane, Troy, Bood, Dysktra and Haas. Shane had a feeling this might be the best team he’d ever had on the ice, and the last forty five seconds were frantic, the Colorado team trying everything but ultimately getting nowhere.

The crowd were screaming as the final ten seconds approached, counting down loudly so that every single person in the arena could hear. Shane didn’t stop, eyes focused on the puck as time became an abstract concept, something he couldn’t think about until… the final buzzer. There it was. They’d done it.

“HOLY FUCK!” Troy screamed into Shane’s ear as he crashed into him, sending them both tumbling down onto the ice. Shane’s head was swimming and he just laughed, letting Troy smash his hands heavily on the top of Shane’s helmet repeatedly, joy evident on his face. “FUCKING STANLEY CUP CHAMPIONS!”

“Oh my god-” Shane yelled back, his body starting to shake as the adrenaline flooded his system, the win sinking in. he managed to sit himself up and just looked around the arena, at fans screaming and crying in the stands, hugging each other and waving at the players who were skating around, soaking in their success.

Every single member of the Centaurs team had piled onto the ice by now, and Shane soon found himself in the middle of a pile of men, each of them in varying states of excitement and celebration. He could feel hands everywhere, people grabbing at him, hitting his helmet but he didn’t care… he couldn’t care, not right now, because they all deserved this. This was their moment. They’d done it together, just as he’d said.

Slowly, the group started to separate, and Shane made sure to go round and hug each of his team, congratulating them and trying to not get too emotional on the ice in front of everyone. Preparations were being made for the Cup presentation, and the Centaurs kept out of the way as they continued to celebrate, waving at fans and loved ones. Shane couldn’t do that right now, not when he was trying desperately to hold himself together.

Before he knew it, it was time for the Stanley Cup presentation. It was Shane’s fifth time doing this now, but it never failed to feel incredibly special and poignant. He could see the trophy, and knew that his name was already on there four times, twice with the Metros and twice with the Centaurs, but it was also really special knowing Ilya’s own name was engraved there too, the two down in the history books together forever on the metal rings.

The Commissioner was out there, and Shane skated over, trying to catch his breath. The team were gathered together and watching him, and Shane grinned as the cup was lifted up, being held towards him. He reached out and finally took it in his hands, bracing himself as he lifted it above his head, hearing the cacophony of cheers explode all around him from fans and players alike. This was it… the moment he’d waited for.

Flashes popped all around as the gathered media and fans all took photos of the historic moment, and Shane felt so overwhelmed that for a second, everything blurred together - the lights, the noise, the ice beneath his skates. All he could focus on was the weight of the Cup in his hands. It was heavy. It was REAL.

He laughed breathlessly, almost disbelieving that this was happening again, and he tipped his head back as the arena roared around him. Somewhere in the chaos of the moment, his name was being yelled out but Shane could barely hear any of it over the rush of blood in his ears. This was the culmination of a career that Shane had given everything for, and now… he was part of history.

Emotion hit him so suddenly that it almost took his breath away. Shane swallowed hard, eyes burning as he looked down at the silver trophy which was reflecting the lights of the arena back at him. He could make out his own reflection and suddenly he felt everything; sweaty, exhausted, and utterly elated.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, his voice cracking. He turned on his blades and faced his team, waiting as they all started making their way towards him. He’d barely handed the cup into Troy’s safe hands when players slammed into his sides, crowding him and hugging him hard enough to bruise his already battered body.

When he managed to get away, Shane scanned the stands instinctively, his eyes finally settling on the people he’d been waiting to see. Yuna was openly crying in David’s arms, but Ilya and Ollie were together, Ollie sitting on top of Ilya’s shoulders as they cheered along with the crowd, looking beyond proud. Shane just waved, knowing their time was coming.

The Cup was passed around each of the players and then they took a team photo, Shane laid on his side on the ice and around the cup as the team surrounded him. They took several photos for Harris as well, the social media manager forcing Shane to kiss the Cup for one photo that Shane knew would be immortalised everywhere once it was posted. Still, that was what this was about. Capturing moments he would probably never have again.

The Cup was returned to its stand and the families of the Centaurs started to make their way onto the ice. It was one of the best moments of a final for Shane, and he watched his teammates embrace their loved ones, scooping crying but happy children into their arms. Shane hung back, smiling and accepting hugs from everyone until finally, it was his turn.

He watched with a full heart as Ilya, Ollie, Yuna and David made their way onto the ice together, hand in hand. Ollie was on the end, gripping Ilya’s hand to steady himself, and Ilya’s other hand was wrapped around Yuna’s. David was on the other end, and Shane opened his arms as they stood in front of him, letting himself sink into their embrace. It was the first time he could really let go, and he could feel the tears finally starting to fall as he was surrounded by his people.

They provided a little shield as he gathered himself, and then Shane picked Ollie up, throwing him into the air before he held him tightly, eyes shut as he let the moment sink in.

“Daddy, you are the bestest hockey player in the world,” Ollie said, his cheeks bright red and little brown eyes shining under the arena lights. “You won the cup!”

“I really did,” Shane grinned, kissing Ollie’s cheek. Ollie wriggled down and was already wobbling his way over to Troy, and Shane watched him lift Ollie up before he turned to his parents. Yuna and David both pulled him into a hug again, whispering how proud they were, how they couldn’t believe their little boy had done something so historic as he laughed, protesting that he wasn’t a little boy anymore.

“You will always be my little boy,” Yuna said, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I’m so proud of you, Shane.”

“I’d say I never dreamed of this but I’d be lying,” David chimed in, and then he looked over Shane’s shoulder, smiling softly. “Go to your man, Shane. He’s been a mess watching you. I can see how much he loves you, and it’s a beautiful thing.”

Shane nodded, and was pleased that Bood, his wife and children joined Yuna and David then, giving Shane the chance to finally see the person he wanted to celebrate with most of all. Ilya was just standing there, in his jersey with Shane’s name on his back, eyes red rimmed from where he’d obviously been crying. They’d discussed how they wanted this to go earlier, and Shane knew there was no turning back.

He could sense the eyes of everyone around him, and even the other players were watching on, despite the fact they’d known the truth for months now. Camera lenses were focused on them as Shane skated slowly over to Ilya, who just took Shane’s hands as he stood in front of him.

“You fucking did it,” Ilya said, his accent more pronounced than normal, emotions clearly getting the better of him. “My fucking five time Stanley Cup winner.”

“Yours,” Shane agreed, anticipating what was coming. “That was for you. Always for you.”

“Fuck, Shane-”

And right there, in front of everyone, in the centre of the ice, Ilya kissed him. His hands found Shane’s cheeks and he pulled him in, crashing their lips together right there on the ice, in front of everyone. The team cheered loudly at their Captain and Ilya Rozanov’s own celebration, and that soon echoed around the arena, the pair confirming what everyone had suspected for too long anyway. It had been all but an open secret, but fuck, it felt good to finally claim Ilya as his for the world.

“Mine-” Ilya said huskily as he finally pulled himself away from Shane’s mouth, resting his forehead against Shane’s, his helmet long forgotten somewhere on the ice. “Just mine.”

“Always,” Shane said, leaning in and kissing Ilya again for the thrill of it. It was amazing to finally kiss the man he loved with his whole heart, and he threw his head back as Ilya grabbed him around the waist, lifting him off the ground and spinning him around. Little did he know, Harris was taking photos of the moment, and that particular photo would go down as the most viral moment of the entire night.

“We’re really out,” Shane breathed out, forehead pressed against Ilya’s as the crowd continued to cheer around them.

“Yes, lyubimyy. And we did it just for us. To be happy. Proud.”

Shane nodded, the tears falling again. “We just did it for you and me.”

Players started to leave the ice, but Shane held onto Ilya’s hand, dragging him in the direction of the locker room with him. Ollie was back with Yuna and David, having said goodbye to Shane and Ilya already, the night already late for the four year old. The noise coming from the locker room as they approached was deafening, and Ilya hung back outside the door as Shane walked in, immediately getting blasted with flying champagne.

It wasn’t his favourite moment but right now, Shane let loose and enjoyed himself, accepting a bottle from Bood before he placed his thumb over the top, shaking and spraying it over everyone. It was chaos in the best way, and they allowed the media in to snap a few photos before Harris came in, escorting them back out so the team could relax and celebrate with each other. The rest of the families and Ilya came in then, and Shane ran at him, launching into Ilya’s arms and grinning at Ilya’s groan.

“Fuck Shane, you’re all wet and sticky-”

“Normal for you two, isn’t it?!” Bood called, and the room cackled around them, but Shane couldn’t bring himself to be embarrassed, not now.

“Fuck off, Bood!” he called, but there was no malice in his voice. He kissed Ilya, hearing Ilya moan as he tasted the champagne on Shane’s tongue.

“Don’t shower,” Ilya whispered in his ear, and Shane pulled back, arching an eyebrow as he looked at Ilya. “I want to take you home like this. We have a whole night.”

“Fuck. I can’t, the team are going out…”

Ilya just nodded. “Okay. I can still get you dirty later.”

Shane ignored the twitch of his cock as Ilya kissed him and left the locker room, promising to wait outside with Harris while everyone changed. It was almost an hour later that finally, Shane was able to escape. He’d done a few media interviews, and had agreed to go out for a couple of hours with the team. They went to their usual bar, and were met with loud cheers all around them, not paying for a single drink as the locals wanted to spoil their Cup winners.

Ilya attracted a fair amount of attention but he never drew the spotlight away from Shane, staying close and pulling Shane onto his lap as the night wore on. At almost midnight, Shane had had enough and announced loudly to the team that he was letting Ilya take him home, lapping up the wolf whistles and rude comments that were yelled at them as they went out, Ilya’s hand firmly planted on Shane’s ass.

It was finally time to celebrate in their own way…

****

“I’m taking care of you tonight,” Ilys said as he pulled into the driveway of Shane’s house before turning off the engine. Shane had been feeling sleepy on the drive home but all of a sudden, he felt very awake. Ilya just turned and looked at him, his eyes dark as he stared at Shane like he wanted to devour him. “Inside, and go upstairs. Take off your clothes. Lay on our bed.”

“Fuck, our bed,” Shane murmured, biting his lip at how that sounded coming from the mouth of his boyfriend. He tried to kiss Ilya but he was turned and pushed towards the stairs, sighing as he climbed them slowly, his body starting to ache after such a long, stressful day. He could hear Ilya moving around downstairs but he did as he was told, pulling off the clothes he was wearing and dumping them in the laundry basket before he laid out on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“You are so beautiful,” came a voice from the doorway, and Shane looked in the direction of the doorway, seeing Ilya’s silhouette standing there, just watching him. “Cannot believe you are mine.”

Ilya stepped closer, slowly, like he was the hunter and Shane was his (very willing) prey.

“My five time Stanley Cup winning boyfriend. Going to make you feel good tonight, lyubimyy.”

“Please,” Shane whimpered, reaching down and palming at himself. Ilya tutted and that was all it took for Shane to quickly remove his hand, leaving it resting on his belly, his skin hot under his own touch. “Ilya-”

“Ssssh, I have you, moya lyubov,” Ilya said with the low timbre in his voice that did something to Shane.

Shane couldn’t help but stare as Ilya stood in front of him, pulling his clothes off until he was left in just his boxers, almost all of his body on display only for Shane. God, he was a lucky motherfucker.

“Roll over onto your stomach,” Ilya muttered quietly as he came closer to the bed. Shane didn’t even hesitate, knowing that whatever Ilya had in mind was going to be amazing. No longer being able to see what was happening behind him added to the expectation of what was in store for him.

Shane felt the bed dip and then an equally naked Ilya was settling on top of him practically seated on his thighs, the pressure just on the right side of bearable on his aching legs. Then there was the sensation of warm oil, god knows where Ilya had got that from, and it was being drizzled over his back and shoulders.

“I watched you carry your team on your back, I’ve been watching you carry everyone on your shoulders all season. Time to rest them now,” Ilya murmured into his neck as he used his strong hands to make sweeping passes down the expanse of Shane's back, from his shoulders and down to his waist, clever fingers easing the tired muscles there.

Shane wasn’t able to move - Ilya was pressing him down into the mattress, with the weight of him sitting on Shane’s legs and rubbing him down. Each pass of his hands went lower and lower, with Shane feeling like he was going to combust or melt. He wasn’t sure which was more preferable.

Once Ilya moved further down and began massaging up his legs, Shane had become a begging mess. Ilya, unrelenting in his slow methodical rub down of his body, was driving him crazy.

“Fuck, Ilya, PLEASE, I need…”

“Oh, I know what you need. Shhh, I take care of you, moy lyubimyy. When do you not get what you need?” Ilya continued to massage every part of Shane’s body he could reach.

Finally, after what felt like a tortuous amount of time, Ilya moved his hands to where Shane had been wanting them, rubbing his oil slicked fingers between where Shane’s thighs met his ass cheeks, rubbing teasingly close to his balls before reaching their intended target. Languidly, starting with one finger, he was stretching Shane open, adding another two fingers and more oil until Shane was panting, each pass of Ilya’s fingers inside of him brushing his prostate but never fully pressing down.

Ilya withdrew his fingers and flipped Shane onto his back, pushing his legs up to his chest before slowly pressing into him. Shane, in a haze, realized that this was reminiscent of how their very first time had been all those years ago.

“Ilya, please, please-”

“I know Shane, I know,” Ilya said as he began thrusting into him harder, knowing what Shane’s body needed and responded to better than anyone else ever would.

“Let go, Shane. Come for me, I want to see you.”

Shane shattered, his release splashing onto their abs as Ilya continued thrusting up into him.

“Fuck, Shane,” Ilya cried out and Shane felt the heat of Ilya’s come hitting that spot deep inside him that Shane knew was reserved for him.

Ilya pulled out slowly and lowered himself to the bed from his position over Shane. “Moya lyubov, love seeing your face,” he said almost reverently as he brushed his fingers across Shane’s cheek.

Shane laid there panting, his chest heaving with the exertion. The sex had been slow and not all that physical but he felt wrung out from it, knowing that the combined adrenaline from the game and then Ilya treating his body like his own alter he was exhausted. Ilya noticed immediately.

“Come, shower with me. I know you do not want to sleep like this,” Ilya said, slowly rising from the bed before making his way to the bathroom and getting the shower started. Shane joined him, where Ilya continued his care and insisted on cleaning Shane from head to toe.

After drying off and Ilya quickly changing the sheets, they fell into bed with Shane curling up against Ilya’s chest.

“I had plan for 5 … for each cup you have now,” Ilya huffed out.

“Hmm, sorry, I don't think I can…”

“No, is ok solnyshko, we have all day tomorrow. Remember plan from morning? We spend all day in bed tomorrow. Sleep now.”

******

Shane stirred, blinking blearily as sunlight dappled the room. Usually, he woke up to little fingers poking him, whispering his name less than quietly in his ear but today, there was just the softest breath against the back of his neck and the weight of an arm over his side. He smiled to himself, peering over his shoulder to see the man he loved sound asleep behind him, holding on to Shane even in sleep.

He couldn’t bring himself to move. Everything about it was perfect. Shane shut his eyes, letting memories of the day before filter through, flashing through his mind like a silent movie - faces, feelings, the Cup, tears, elation… every part of it was unforgettable. But the icing on the cake had been kissing Ilya for everyone to see, choosing him because he could, because this is what they wanted now.

“I am awake,” a voice rumbled behind him, and Shane slowly and carefully turned in Ilya’s arms, until they were practically nose to nose on the same pillow. “Your thoughts are too loud.”

“My thoughts aren’t anything,” Shane said back, keeping his voice low, watching as Ilya’s eyes slowly cracked open. Shane’s body felt sore in the best way, remembering both the game and the way Ilya had taken him apart piece by piece the night before, how much trust he’d put in Ilya to look after him in the way that he had. “Still all feels surreal.”

“That you win another Cup?”

“All of it,” Shane admitted, seeing no point in being anything but honest with Ilya. “Winning the Cup, going into the history books, kissing you on the ice… last night.”

“Was perfect, all of it,” Ilya said, stretching gently and kissing Shane softly, ignoring Shane’s muffled protests about his morning breath. “I am so happy I could be a small part of your day, Shane.”

Shane smiled, pressing their lips together again briefly. “You’re the biggest and best part of every day.” Ilya wriggled again, and the small smile on his lips piqued Shane’s attention. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying. You’re all wriggly and you can’t stop smiling.”

“Can I not just be happy to wake up with my beautiful boyfriend?”

Shane laughed. “Well, yeah, of course, but… I don’t know. I just think there’s something…” Ilya looked at him so intently for a moment that Shane’s stomach did a funny motion, and he pulled back slightly. “Oh god. What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Opposite, moya lyubov. Everything is right. Just… I will tell you. But I am nervous.”

He gently rolled Shane onto his back, propping himself up on his elbow and looking down at Shane, his fingertips trailing over Shane’s jaw and neck.

“You can tell me anything,” Shane stated, something unsaid passing between them, and Shane saw Ilya take a breath, a smile crossing his face as he started to speak.

“I have not just been in Ottawa to visit you, Shane.”

“Oh. Okay. Can I ask why else you’re here?”

“Because I made decision. Big decision. And I wanted to sort it before I tell you. So I just hope you are happy-”

Shane pressed his finger to Ilya’s lips, stopping him talking. “Ilya, just tell me. If you’re this happy about it, I’m sure I will be too.”

Shane wished later that he’d been more awake for this, that he could’ve taken it in more deeply because it was everything he’d ever wanted.

“If you say you agree-”

“I will.”

“Shane…”

“Sorry. You go. But quickly, please.”

“I have been talking to Centaurs, and Hammerheads. I have had job interview, to be Assistant Coach here. They offer me job last week. So… next season, if you want, I will be here, in Ottawa, with Centaurs.”

“What the fuck, Ilya-”

Ilya barrelled on, apparently unable to stop now it was out there. “I cannot do long distance anymore, Shane. I cannot wait like before, for just a few days, for Facetime. It hurts me to say goodbye and I do not want this anymore. I want to be here, in your life with you, with Ollie.”

Shane’s bottom lip was trembling, and he was struggling to keep his composure. “Ilya-”

“I have been looking at houses. Troy and Harris help me-”

“No, no way, absolutely the fuck not.”

Ilya’s mouth clamped shut at that with a slight frown. “Oh. I- I thought you-”

“You are not buying a house here, Ilya. Because you already have a home with us, with me and Ollie. You can move in here with us, if that’s what you want, and we can live together, and work together, and-” his voice hitched, unable to believe this was really happening, “and build this life together. I’m not wasting a single second more than we have to.”

“Fuck- Shane-”

Ilya leaned down and kissed Shane hard, so hard it was almost uncomfortable but Shane didn’t want to move. His hands went up and his fingers buried themselves in Ilya’s curls, curling and clutching them tightly, keeping Ilya right where he wanted him.

“You didn’t want to tell me about this?”

“No, because if they did not want me, I did not want to disappoint you. I would deal with that by myself.”

“Hey, no. You don’t have to deal with anything alone now, okay? You have me. I… I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“Why? I love you, Shane. We made decision before for what we think are good reasons. We grow, we lose what we had. But then we get it back. We choose this, we choose each other now, and I am choosing you and Ollie.”

“Your life is in Anaheim-”

“Not anymore. My life is wherever you are.”

Shane made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob, his eyes burning instantly. He almost hated how much he’d cried lately, how easily Ilya pulled that out of him because every emotion was so close to the surface all the time. But with Ilya looking down at him with such love in his eyes, like he was something precious and worth uprooting his entire life for… Shane felt complete.

“You can’t just say things like that,” Shane whispered, his voice still cracking as tears trickled from his eyes.

“It is true.”

Ilya’s hand lifted carefully, his knuckles brushing against Shane’s jaw like he thought he was going to disappear if he touched him too hard.

“Shane… moy lyubimyy…”

“You don’t understand what this means to me.” Shane’s throat felt tight. “You don’t understand how many years I spent trying to convince myself that I was over you. That I couldn’t have this.”

“I tried too. But you never left my heart, Shane. Has always been yours.”

“But now… I have everything I’ve wanted since I was seventeen. It almost doesn’t feel real.”

“It is real,” Ilya said so sincerely, his voice cracking with it too. “I am choosing this, Shane. I am choosing you. Every day, for as long as you will have me.”

Shane’s chest ached, because he’d never believed anyone as much as he believed Ilya’s words in that moment.

“And Ollie?”

A smile broke across Ilya’s face at the mention of the little boy, and if he didn’t know before, Shane certainly knew now how much Ilya loved him.

“And Ollie, too. I want mornings with him, letting you rest. To take him skating, maybe teach him Russian words. I want… I want this boring life with you, Shane.”

They both laughed at that, Shane knowing that Ilya’s words were far from an insult.

“You hate mornings, Ilya.”

“Ah, I will suffer bravely,” Ilya replied, his eyes entirely honest. “But Shane… I do not want a life that does not have you both in it every single day.”

Ilya’s honesty hit Shane hard. It was everything Shane had been waiting for for the past fourteen years, and finally… it was now. Shane pulled Ilya back down into a kiss, his hand cradling the back of Ilya’s head this time.

“So… when are you moving in?”

“My house is already for sale,” Ilya shrugged, and Shane laughed loudly, loving how confident Ilya had been in Shane wanting this that he’d already put all of these plans into motion. “So… as soon as you will have me?”

Shane sat up quickly, shoving Ilya off as his mind started to move at a hundred miles an hour, already putting plans in place. “We’ll fly to Anaheim together, leave Ollie with my parents. We’ll pack up your things, get it sent up here. You need to go and resign officially with the Hammerheads, then sign the contract-”

“I already sign it.”

“You’ve signed? With the Cens?”

“Yes, Shane. Two years, but can be as long as I want.”

“We need to go and tell Ollie right now.”

“Right now?” Ilya looked down at where he was obviously hard under the sheet. “Shane-”

“Now. I want to tell my son that you’re moving here, that you’re going to live here with us. I want to tell my parents how fucking serious I am about you, that I-”

“Shane-”

Shane cut in, determined to get this out. “That I’m not going to retire, Ilya. That I’m going to play with my boyfriend as my Coach, that I’m going to allow myself to be fucking happy because, fuck, I deserve this. So get up, and come do this with me.”

As always, Ilya did exactly as Shane asked. They shared a shower and blowjobs to tide them over until they could be alone together later that night, and dressed side by side. Shane kept smiling over at Ilya, realising that this was going to be their everyday reality soon enough, all because of Ilya.

He walked over, smoothing down Ilya’s shirt over his chest. “Hey. I just… thank you for doing this for me.”

“Is for me too. For us. Ya tebya lyublyu.”

“I love you too. Let’s go, Rozanov.”

Shane drove this time, needing something to focus on so he didn’t go out of his mind with excitement. He knew Ollie would be awake, and he wasn’t surprised when they walked into the house that Ollie ran at them, hugging Shane then running over to Ilya, hugging him too. Yuna and David watched on fondly from the doorway, still in their pyjamas but apparently unbothered by it.

“Uh, can we talk to you guys?”

“And me?” Ollie asked, looking up at both Shane and Ilya hopefully.

“Yeah, bud, you too.”

They settled around the table, and Ollie sipped happily on the juice box David put in front of him and sat next to Ilya instead of his usual spot next to Shane. It said a lot that Shane didn’t mind in the slightest.

“We have something to tell you guys, and I want to preface it by telling you that we’re both really happy, and that this is what we both want.”

"At least we know that no-one is announcing a pregnancy this time," Yuna said wryly, and Shane just rolled his eyes, grinning at both of his parents.

"Not yet, anyway. Anyway, can I carry on, please?"

“Okay… I’m intrigued, Shane,” David said, and Shane just glanced at Ilya, getting the nod for him to announce it.

“Ilya has got a new job, here in Ottawa. He’s going to be the new Assistant Coach with the Centaurs. He’s going to leave Anaheim and move here to be with us.”

Ollie’s jaw dropped and he looked to Shane and then Ilya. Yuna and David weren’t faring much better, not bothering to hide the shocked expressions on their faces.

“I know it is a lot,” Ilya said, looking more nervous than Shane expected him to be, but he realised that this was simply because it meant everything to Ilya to be accepted by these people in Shane’s life. “But this is what I want. Me and Shane… we have always been meant for each other. Not all people get second chance at happiness. So… I want to be here, with Shane and Ollie. I do not want to spend life on planes, waiting for next time I see them again.”

David sighed, shaking his head as he looked at Yuna then back at his son. “Wow…”

“You’re going to move your entire life to be with them?” Yuna asked, like she wanted to be certain.

Ilya shrugged, like this was not even a question. “They are my life now. I love Shane and Ollie very much. So… if Ollie is okay with this, I will move to Ottawa, live with them in their home-”

“Our home,” Shane cut in, and Ilya smiled softly at him, nodding.

“Yes, our home. I will coach the Centaurs, support Shane, be present for Ollie.”

“And I’m not retiring,” Shane said, his voice steady and certain. “Not now. I want to play on a team with Ilya, to share that with him, even if it’s not quite how it was before. Maybe this is even better. Because this time, we get to come home together every single time.”

“There is nothing in Anaheim for you?”

“No,” Ilya answered honestly, and Shane just watched as Ollie wordlessly crawled into Ilya’s lap, his thumb in his mouth as he cuddled into him. “Was okay. But life was just work. Watch hockey, coach hockey, sleep, eat bad food, repeat.”

“Some things never change…” Shane muttered.

“And now,” Ilya continued, glancing at Shane as his left arm held onto Ollie safely, so naturally it took Shane’s breath away, “I have a family here, waiting for me. I do not want to be anywhere else.”

Shane could feel it then - the shift in the room that told him his parents finally understood them, how much they wanted this, to be together. He looked over to Ilya, giving him a wobbly smile.

“You are looking at me like you are about to cry, solnyshko.”

“I am not.”

“Oh, he is absolutely about to cry,” Yuna teased, but it was Ollie’s small voice that cut in, silencing the four adults around him.

“You gonna live with us, Illy?”

“I would like that very much.”

“I don’t have to say bye no more?”

Shane caught the tensing of Ilya’s jaw as he worked frantically to keep himself together. “No, Ollie. No goodbye now.”

“Forever?”

“Is a long time,” Ilya said in a voice Shane hadn’t heard him use before. “But yes, I hope so.”

“For breakfast?”

“Yes.”

“For my hockey lessons?”

“Yes. Maybe I can help teach you too.”

“For when I have bad dreams?”

Ilya’s face almost crumpled at that, for the briefest second, but Shane caught it and scooted his chair closer, taking Ilya’s hand.

“Especially for that, Ollie.”

Ollie pulled back and looked at Ilya, then at Shane and finally, back at Ilya again.

“Okay, “ he declared, like this was the decision they’d all been waiting for, which, truthfully, it was. “No more leaving, Illy.”

Ollie’s arms found Ilya’s neck, and Ilya slipped his hand out of Shane’s so he could wrap both arms around Ollie, holding him like he had something utterly precious in his arms.

“No more leaving. Promise.”

Chapter End Notes

Next up... the epilogue.

Everything Ilya ever wanted - and everything he never dared believe could be his ❤️

Chapter 16: Epilogue: Ilya

Chapter Summary

Historic events...

Family first...

Everything.

Chapter Notes

I can't believe this is it. I am so in love with this family and am going to miss them terribly. Luckily, I've already written the first little one shot in the series (well, if you call 18k little), and there will be plenty more.

And finally... it's the Ilya pov chapter you've all been asking for. Hurrah!

I just have a couple of thank yous if you'll so kind as to indulge me.

Firstly to Kelsey, the most amazing Beta to exist. You are an amazing friend and I have loved working with you on this. Thank you for all your encouragement and talking me down when I've gotten too in my head. This wouldn't be what it is without you.

To Sylwia for this amazing idea. I took it and ran with it, and thankfully, you've fallen in love with Ollie and Illy just as much as I have. Thank you for trusting me with your idea!

To Sam for the help with writing the amazing hockey scene in this chapter. You're amazing, and I am grateful for your help!

Finally... to everyone who has read this, or left a kudos, or a comment. I have been so humbled by how much everyone has taken this family into their hearts. I am so lucky.

Thank you, please enjoy and PLEASE scream at me in the comments. I can't wait to read them!

Love,
Chloe x

Two years later

Ilya

“Shane. Shane!”

Ilya smiled to himself as Shane’s head appeared around the doorway of their bedroom, his hair and skin still damp from the shower he’d just taken. He still had shaving foam around his jaw, and Ilya couldn’t believe that even after all this time, Shane could make his heart explode with just one look.

“Yes, Ilya?”

“I love you. I am going to take Ollie to school, will be back after.”

“Okay. I might head into practice early, but I’ll meet you there?”

“Yes, my beautiful husband,” Ilya said as he rose to his feet, walking over to Shane. He leaned in, kissing him but avoiding getting himself covered in foam.

“Will you ever get tired of calling me that? It’s been a year…”

“Never. You are stuck with me now. Big Russian husband who is so in love with you.” Ilya kissed him again, Shane huffing out a laugh as he pulled back.

“One little wedding and suddenly you’ve built your whole personality around being smug about it, huh?”

“One very important wedding,” Ilya corrected, holding up his right hand and showing off the wedding band Shane had put there just over a year ago, that he’d never removed since. “Was historic event, Shane.”

“For who, exactly?”

“For you, me, MHL, world…”

Shane snorted, disappearing into the bathroom to finish shaving and getting himself ready for practice. Ilya waited until he was done before they headed downstairs, fingers linked loosely together in a way that they both seemed to want and need.

If you had told Ilya a few years ago that this would be his life now, he would’ve laughed. But truly, this was everything that he’d ever wanted. School runs, making lunchboxes, packing Ollie’s school bag… he loved it all so much that it was almost embarrassing.

“Go,” Shane insisted, shoving a travel mug full of coffee into Ilya’s hand before he pushed Ollie’s lunchbox into his bag. “Ollie will literally kill you if he’s late to homeroom again.”

“He would never betray me. I am favourite.”

“Yeah, because you’re the fun one.” They both paused as they heard a drawer slam from upstairs, followed by fast feet on the stairs. “Here he comes.”

Ollie appeared in the doorway, wearing a Hammerheads t-shirt and jean shorts, looking so much like a mini Ilya that he couldn’t stop himself beaming at the sight of him. The curls on the top of his head, wild just like Ilya’s in the morning, were the cherry on top.

“You’ve created a clone.”

Ilya laughed, ruffling Ollie’s hair as he came over, grabbing his backpack and putting it onto his back. “We have good taste, yes, Ol?”

“Yeah, we’re so cool, Illy,” Ollie grinned up at him. “Bye Daddy, have a good day.”

“You too, Ollie. Be good, be kind. I love you, and I’ll see you later.”

“I love you, Daddy. Come on, Illy, I don’t wanna be late!”

He ran off to find his shoes, and Ilya just rolled his eyes, leaning in to kiss Shane quickly.

“Go on, our boy is waiting for you.”

Ilya arched an eyebrow at his husband. “He’s our boy when he’s being demanding?”

“Of course.”

“Illy, help! I can’t find my other shoe!”

Ilya sighed, trailing into the hallway. Shane rummaged around in the cupboard and grabbed the offending shoe, holding it out to Ollie who took it with a little cheer. He put it on then quickly hugged Shane.

“Bye!”

“See you at the rink,” Shane said, tapping Ilya’s butt as he walked past him and out of the front door. Ilya could feel Shane’s eyes on them as they headed to the Ferrari, which they both assumed was the only reason Ollie wanted Ilya only to take him to school, Ilya strapping Ollie in before he got in himself, pulling his sunglasses down. They both waved at Shane and Ilya pulled out of the drive, heading the ten minute drive to Ollie’s school. He’d started school a year ago, and much to Shane and Ilya’s relief, he seemed to love every second of it.

“Illy, we’re learnin’ about animals today. Do you like animals?”

“Some,” Ilya replied, peering at Ollie in the rearview mirror, strapped into the booster seat. They continued to chat about Ollie’s day - the games he planned to play at recess, who he wanted to sit next on the carpet, the fact he only needed two more stickers on his chart to get his certificate this week. “Don’t forget Baaba is collecting you from school.”

“I know, Illy. You and Daddy have practice. Can we go skating at the weekend?”

Due to the fact Shane and Ilya spent a lot of their time at the rink, Ollie’s skating had improved massively over the past two years. Shane had been insistent that he still attend separate skating lessons, but Ilya was picking up the slack in between lessons, and now Ollie had a proficiency well above any typical six year old. It probably helped that he was the son of Canada’s greatest ever hockey player, but having Ilya Rozanov as a step-father wasn’t exactly hindering him either.

Ilya pulled into the drop off line, inching the car forward as he watched child after child clamber out of the car in front of him.

“Have good day,” Ilya said as they approached the drop off spot. “Please change your reading book. I will listen and sign tonight.”

“Daddy said he would-”

“No, is my job. I like hearing you read.” Ilya pulled up and Ollie’s head appeared between the seat, leaning in to kiss Ilya’s cheek. “Love you, be good. Have good day.”

“Bye Illy, love you!”

Then, he was gone. Ilya quickly glanced at his phone, seeing that Shane had texted him to say that he’d taken Ilya’s kit bag with him to the rink and to meet them there. Ilya was still hungry so he went via the McDonald’s drive thru, grabbing himself a breakfast wrap and a McGriddle, eating the latter on the drive in so that Shane wouldn’t glare unhappily at him. He tolerated him eating the odd breakfast wrap, but he really wasn’t keen on the McGriddle. Ilya would never understand this about his husband.

A while later, he walked into the rink, clutching his skate bag. The rest of his gear was already with Shane, so Ilya headed straight for the rink, knowing he didn’t need to worry about getting changed just yet. Troy was on the ice with Shane so Ilya sat down on the bench next to Harris, kicking off his trainers to replace them with skates.

“You wanting some ice time?”

“I enjoy skating with Shane,” was Ilya’s easy reply, fingers working to lace his skates, almost muscle memory after so many years of doing so. “How is my favourite dog?”

“Chiron is good. Thought we’d bring her over this weekend when we come for your birthday barbecue,” Harris answered, and Ilya nodded happily, always enjoying when the Drover-Barrett’s brought over his four legged friend for a visit. He was sure that soon, he’d get Shane to crack and allow them to get their own dog. “How is Cap feeling about the final?”

Ilya shrugged, wondering how much he should say. Outwardly, Shane wasn’t looking like he was under pressure at all. He was more philosophical than Ilya had ever seen him, telling Ilya more than once that he was already in the history books with his five Cup wins, that a sixth would be amazing but not necessary. But deep down, Ilya knew how much Shane wanted this. It was more than likely going to be his last season on the ice, and ending everything with a win would be perfect.

“He wants it,” was what Ilya settled on. “Last year was hard, losing to Raiders in playoffs like that. Cliff will not let him forget the win. He does not want this again.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Harris chuckled, raising his phone and snapping a few photos, no doubt for the Centaurs social media accounts. Ilya stood up and walked over to the ice, stepping on carefully to ensure his knee was going to tolerate it today. Thankfully, it seemed fine. “Hey, give us a smile, Coach.”

Ilya turned and grinned at Harris, letting him take a photo before he skated over to Troy and Shane. He looped his arms around Shane’s waist and kissed the back of his head as Troy just smiled at them.

“So, what’s the plan, Coach?” Troy asked, and Ilya released Shane from his hold, watching him skate away a little so he could stand by Troy.

“Practice passes. You are both ready, do not need much. Just need to play like all season.”

“They’ve been playing well, too,” Shane admitted, even though he looked like doing so pained him. It was true - the Seattle Squids had been playing well all season, and Ilya hadn’t been surprised when both them and the Centaurs had made it to the cup finals, seemingly fairly evenly matched. The only saving grace was that the Centaurs had Shane Hollander on their side, making them fairly unstoppable so far. Ilya knew it was Shane’s impending retirement that was setting fire to his gameplay, but since Shane hadn’t shared that with anyone but Ilya and his parents, that had to stay secret for now.

“Yes, but we are better. We have you.”

“I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit,” Troy cut in, and both men turned to look at him. “What? You know I’m right. You’ve lit a fire under this team, Rozanov. The rookie’s are totally losing their shit at playing with Shane and being coached by you, the older guys are inspired by you, and fuck, everyone loves your dynamic.”

“Troy-”

“No, Shane, it’s true. You two just…” Troy waved his hand towards them, searching for the words. “You work, together and for this team. Better than any of us ever expected, to be honest.”

“Why does that sound like a backhanded compliment?” Shane asked, and Troy just chuckled.

“I mean, maybe. But it’s true. You’re both stubborn as hell, opinionated and you’re both way too intense about hockey. This shouldn’t work, but it does.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Troy,” Ilya replied sarcastically, but apparently Troy wasn’t done.

“You balance each other out, and I think the team feels that. Shane inspires everyone, makes sure the rookies are taken care of, looks out for his guys. He makes us all believe we can do the impossible. And you-” Troy pointed at Ilya then. “You are, surprisingly, his port in the storm of this game. You help him channel all his intense energy, and you offer the rest of us so much as well.”

Both Shane and Ilya reluctantly smiled at that.

“The room is different now,” Troy continued. “Everyone stays later for practice. They ask more questions. They push harder in drills, because they want to impress you both. They’re hungry in a way I’ve never seen before.” Ilya reached for Shane’s hand, Troy’s words softening him in a way he’d never admit to. “For what it’s worth… I think this is what you’ve both been waiting for. Each other. I love Harris, sure. More than anything. But what you two have is on another level. It’s like… you’re two halves of a whole, and now you’re together, everything makes sense, for everyone around you too.”

Ilya nodded, and Shane’s gaze was fixed firmly on the ice, which Ilya knew meant he was holding himself together by the thinnest thread.

“Whether we win tomorrow or not… you two have won anyway. You have each other. You’re both fucking legends in this sport, and no-one will ever forget your names. You’re in the history books. And I’m just proud to be on your team and a small part of your story.”

“Fuck. Bag skates, now, Barrett. Go,” Ilya demanded, but Troy laughed it off, clapping his hand down on Ilya’s shoulder. “But thank you. You are right. I win by having Shane, by wearing his ring.”

“But another Cup would be nice, right?!” Shane chimed in, like he was scandalised that both his husband and best friend seemed apparently ambiguous about the importance of the game later that night.

“Yes, of course, moya lyubov,” Ilya said, tugging Shane closer, his husband coming easily on his skates. “But not end of the world if not. We still have us.”

*****

Practice was long, and Ilya came off the ice after an hour or so, feeling a twinge in his knee. He sat rinkside with Coach Wiebe as the rest of the Centaurs started to drift in, warming up before the coaching team put them through their paces. Ilya was more than impressed with the cohesive feeling in the team, and watching them on the ice gave him a good feeling for whatever was going to come the following night. If they lost, it wasn’t going to be because they weren’t playing at their best, because they really were.

Ilya and Wiebe were in the coaches office when Shane walked in, his hair damp from the showers, and bundled in one of Ilya’s hoodies. It was oversized on Ilya, so slightly baggy on Shane, but it looked perfect. Shane sank into a chair opposite Ilya, stretching out his legs with a long sigh.

“You okay, Hollander?” Wiebe asked, peering up at Shane from the iPad where he’d been watching videos of their practice.

“Yeah… just feeling the weight of tomorrow, I guess,” Shane admitted, and Ilya watched as he nervously played with his wedding ring, back on his finger after being worn around his neck on a chain during practice. “Do you really think we stand a chance?”

“Given it’s best of seven and we’re at the final game, yeah, we do,” Wiebe answered with a small but knowing smile. “Time for you to fully cement your legacy, Hollander.”

“My Shane is already a legacy,” Ilya stated, and both men looked quickly at him. “What? Is true.”

Both Shane and Ilya’s phones buzzed then, and they each looked at them, smiling when they saw it was Yuna checking in on their family group chat, making sure they were going to make it home for dinner. Ilya let Shane reply, but just sent a heart emoji himself. He really did love Hollander family dinners, especially when he considered himself a Hollander in all but name now.

“You two get off home. Get a good sleep and get ready for tomorrow. Ilya - you too.”

“Is not about me-”

“It is about you. You’re the Assistant Coach of the team. You’re married to the Captain of this team. Hell, Ilya, you pretty much are the team at this point. The guys love you, I love you, Shane loves you-”

“Yeah, but in a very different way-” Shane interrupted, his angry kitten expression making both Wiebe and Ilya smile.

“Fair enough but… you deserve this cup as well. You two deserve to win one together, just to… you know, say you’ve done it.”

Ilya stood and quickly tidied his desk before standing next to Shane. “Goodnight, Brandon. We will be ready tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, you two. Give that little boy a hug from me. We’re looking forward to seeing him tomorrow.”

The drive to the Hollanders didn’t take all that long, and before long, Ilya was pulling into the driveway. It was a sunny June evening so they headed straight around the back, where David was grilling salmon, and a few burgers for Ilya and Ollie, neither of whom were particular fans of fish. Ollie was running around with a bubble wand, and Shane darted down the steps to join him, while Ilya stood next to David.

“Hello, son,” David said, smiling at Ilya. “How was practice? Are they ready?”

“More than ready,” Ilya replied, meaning every word. Yuna came out then, her hands full with drinks and a bowl of coleslaw, so Ilya hurried over, helping her out. He gave her a quick hug once her hands were empty, and followed her inside. “Has Ollie been good?”

“Of course, Ilya, he always is. He got a sticker at school today, but I’ll let him tell you about it. Help me with the salad?”

Ilya loved cooking with Yuna, getting tips for the best ways to prepare food so he could feed his family. After being alone and cooking boring, uninspiring things for so long, Ilya had been more than ready to take on the lion's share of cooking at home, and Shane had apparently been happy to allow it. Ilya had a feeling that his own mother would’ve loved the relationship he’d cultivated with Yuna Hollander over the past few years.

The family all sat down outside on the large table the Hollanders had, Ollie sitting between Shane and Ilya as they chatted and ate, Shane especially hungry after a very physical practice.

“You know what what I gotted this sticker for?” he asked, and both Shane and Ilya gave him their full attention as he explained. “We were doing writing, about the animals we saw. And Mrs Arnold said I did really good sentences, and remembered all my periods and capital letters.”

“That’s amazing, Ollie, I’m super proud. I can’t wait to be able to read it,” Shane said, sharing a proud smile over Ollie’s head with Ilya. “Have you told your friends about the game tomorrow? Are they excited?”

Since he’d been at school, Ollie had made two particularly good friends, and Shane had gotten them and their family tickets to the final, which had made Ollie’s day. He’d had to miss several of the earlier final games when they’d flown out to Seattle, Shane unwilling to let his son miss so much school. David and Yuna had taken turns staying behind with him, so it was going to be exciting for Shane and Ilya to have Ollie there for the biggest match.

“Yeah! Harrison says he’s gonna wear your jersey, and Danny’s mom is helping him make a banner!”

“Maybe I should make a banner…” Ilya pondered, but Shane reached around Ollie, slapping his arm. “Ouch.”

“I do not need a banner, and you’ll be a bit busy coaching the team to wave it around,” Shane said, stealing a couple of fries from Ollie’s plate.

Yuna changed the subject then, apparently keen to keep the evening calm. “So, Ilya, do you have any plans for your birthday?”

“Ah, no. Has never been a big deal for me. I am usually alone, so-”

“What? Illy, that’s sad!” Ollie suddenly got onto his knees and threw his arms around Ilya’s neck, squeezing tightly. “Me and Daddy going to make you a big party!”

“I don’t want big party,” Ilya insisted, shaking his head. “I would just like to do what we did last year. Spend time together, have fun with family. Maybe family barbecue like this would be nice.” He looked over and saw Shane sharing a look with his mother, and he paused. “Shanushka… what are you planning?”

“Me? Nothing. Nothing, Ilya. Mom, is there any more ginger ale?”

“In the refrigerator,” Yuna commented, even though it was entirely unnecessary since Ilya knew Shane helped himself every single time they came over to visit. “Need my help?”

“Sure.”

Now Ilya was suspicious, but he let it slide, chatting happily with Ollie and David as they finished up their meals. Ollie had eaten most of the food on his plate, and Ilya knew Shane wouldn’t nitpick over the few bits that he’d left. Shane was a little red-eyed when he and Yuna eventually came back out, and Ilya shot him a quizzical look, but Shane just scooted Ollie along the bench, leaning into Ilya.

“You okay? Ilya asked as Yuna took Ollie inside to wash his hands and collect his bags to head home. “You have been crying, moya lyubov.”

“Just emotional, about tomorrow. I don’t know why this one feels different to the others, but it does.”

“Maybe because it might be last,” Ilya said softly, stroking Shane’s hair. “It is okay to admit it is hard, Shane. I am going to be so proud watching you.”

They thanked Yuna and David and said goodbye, Ollie tired by the time they got home. Ilya carried Ollie inside and Shane decided not to bother with a shower, just changing Ollie into his pyjamas and reading a story before he was sound asleep. Ilya left Shane to it as he emptied his kit bag, setting it off on a wash before he finally joined Ilya in the bedroom.

Ilya was lazing on his back, scrolling through his phone as he watched Shane change into something more comfortable. He loved how the bedroom light caught on the gold of Shane’s wedding band, and he patted the bed next to him.

“I feel like I’m crawling out of my skin,” Shane admitted as he settled onto the mattress next to his husband. Ilya reached across, resting his hand on Shane’s bare thigh. “My mind won’t shut off. I keep running through the plays in my head, thinking about the lines, how we’re going to get the better of them.”

“You play as you always do,” Ilya stated. “You are ready. Team is ready, Shane. You need to stop worrying.”

“I want this win, Ilya.”

“I know. Me too. I want to win with you. Listen…” he rolled on top of Shane, pinning him gently against the bed, looking down at him. “You want me to help you forget?”

“Please,” Shane whimpered as Ilya rolled his hips down, showing Shane how much he wanted him.

It was perfect as Ilya spent the next few hours worshipping Shane, showing how much he loved his husband, how proud he was of him and everything he’d achieved. The way Shane was thrashing about on the bed told Ilya he was doing a good job, and they were both shaking as Ilya pressed into him, clutching Shane’s hand beside his head as their bodies rocked together.

It was hot, it was sweaty and perhaps the most beautiful moment Ilya had been part of. Shane’s eyes didn’t move away from Ilya’s face as they kissed their way through everything, and Ilya almost didn’t want it to end. He wanted to spend forever right here, laid between Shane’s thighs, buried inside the man he’d been in love with since before he really understood what being in love was, what it meant for him.

“I love you so much,” Shane whispered brokenly against Ilya’s lips, and Ilya returned the words in Russian before kissing Shane, hitching Shane’s leg up and deepening his thrusts. It was making love in the best way, and they stayed close, bodies rocking together until they came, Shane first followed shortly by Ilya, breathing into each others mouths and trembling with both exertion and pleasure.

Ilya pulled out and let Shane catch his breath while he ran them a bath, deciding that Shane needed to relax tonight. Usually, they’d shower and fall asleep together but tonight, Ilya wanted more. He wanted to savour every minute with his husband, and he walked back into the bedroom, scooping Shane into his arms and going slowly towards the bathroom.

“I can walk,” Shane protested tiredly, but the way he relaxed his head against Ilya’s chest, told Ilya all that he needed to know. Ilya lowered him carefully into the water, and then slipped in behind Shane, pulling his body against his own. “Mmm, this is heaven.”

“Good. Now let me take care of you.”

Shane nodded. “Okay but… isn’t that what you’ve been doing all night?”

“Yes, because you deserve it.”

Ilya washed Shane head to toe, including using Shane’s fancy conditioner on his hair before he made quick work of himself, his hands resting on Shane’s belly when he was done.

“It’s going to be okay, you know,” Ilya said, rubbing circles on Shane’s stomach. “Whatever happens, you are in history books forever. My husband will always be most famous and best hockey player in world.”

“You say this like you’re shit at hockey,” Shane laughed, his hands coming up and resting on top of Ilya’s. “Like you haven’t got three Stanley Cups to your name.”

“Three, not five. I am good but you are better.”

Shane tilted his head so he could see Ilya. “Kiss me, Ilya.”

Ilya did, and they stayed where they were until the water got cold, and eventually, Shane pulled back just enough to smile. “We should get out before we freeze.”

“Bed,” Ilya said, brief but certain. They got out and tied towels around their waists, leaving wet footprints in their wake as they headed into their bedroom. They pulled boxers on in the sake of propriety and the six year old who had a habit of coming into their bed at some hideous hour in the morning, and cuddled up together. Whatever happened tomorrow, they had each other, and that was the most important thing.

 

The following night: Stanley Cup Final: Game 7

Bruises blossomed purple beneath tape and pads. Fingers had to be pried loose from sticks between periods. Ilya was trying very hard to ignore a suspicion that Dillon had been playing through broken ribs since game 5. He’d done the same himself, once.

It was the start of the third period, and the team was at their limits, now, here in the final moments of the longest playoff run any of them had experienced. Including Shane, who had never seen game 7 in the finals. He and Luca had fallen asleep sitting up in full gear, in the locker room after game 6.

Twenty-six playoff games had sanded everyone down to bone, and Seattle had been relentless.

The game was tied, 1-1.

Ilya could see Ollie standing with Yuna, David, Harris, and Hayden and Jackie, who had driven in for the match, to support Shane. He was sad he couldn’t be with them, but he needed to focus. He and Wiebe had only one chance to get this right, to win this cup for the team, one more for Shane. That was all Ilya wanted.

The puck dropped. Seattle pressed in and Ottawa answered shift for shift. Wiebe and Ilya shouted changes from the bench, and lines limped to the bench and climbed back over the boards forty seconds later, again and again. Both teams were close enough to taste it, and neither would relent.

Fourteen minutes into the period, the tie held, and with his back turned to the team, Wiebe muttered “they’re not going to make it if this goes to overtime.”

They weren’t. Longer exhales on the bench, shoulders rising and falling hard beneath chest protectors. Ilya’s eyes met Shane’s at the end of the bench near the gate, and he knew that Shane was having the same thought. They weren’t going to make it.

Well. If Shane thought that they were going to waste telepathy on a morose staring contest from the bench, he had another thing coming. They weren’t going to make it in overtime. And they won’t have to if you don’t let them get there, Ilya challenged.

He looked at Hollander with vaguely incredulous boredom, summoning the ghost of his 19 year old self, crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged his shoulders, gaze boring into Shane’s. What, is it hard? Shane Hollander can’t score one goal in the next 6 minutes? He assessed the opposing bench with signature, lazy scorn, eyebrows raised and then back at Hollander - too tired to get the puck from fucking Seattle and score one goal to avoid overtime?

Then he did a little shrug that said “okay,” and looked down at his clipboard with a small sigh.

Shane knew what Ilya was doing. Ilya knew that Shane knew what he was doing. And fuck him if it wasn’t working. Shane was dead tired, likely more exhausted than he had ever been in his life, but if there was one thing he knew would probably rouse even Shane’s cooling corpse to action, it was a challenge from Ilya Rozanov. It was a siren call to the makeup of who Shane was a person, imprinted on his bones.

Ilya watched as Shane’s face shifted from offended incredulity, to defiant, to menacing, to locked the fuck in.

A grin crept up Ilya’s face and he inclined his head lightly toward the rink, a small sideways nod toward the ice.

Go on, then.

Wiebe’s gaze bored into the side of Ilya’s head. “You look smug. I hope that means what I think it means. I have no idea what just happened, by the way.”

Shane skated to centre for a faceoff, and Ilya didn’t need to hold his breath. He knew what was going to happen now; the arena belonged to Shane and they were simply here to behold the spectacle of what Hollander would unleash; to settle the fuck in and thank the gods they they, themselves, had never been drafted to Seattle.

The puck went to Dykstra and back to Shane immediately, and he took off towards goal with it. Troy followed as closely behind as it was possible to follow behind Shane Hollander, almost missing the drop pass he didn’t know was coming as Seattle’s defense closed in on Shane.

Shane hit the top of the circle at full speed, then snapped into a cutback that sent the defender sliding past him, and when the perfectly timed puck back from Troy touched his tape, he surged toward the net, switched to his backhand and the goalie moved to block the shot, not seeing that Shane had left the puck on the ice. Shane fired a forehand wrist shot into the hole recently vacated by the goalie. It had been 25 seconds since the puck drop.

The horn sounded and the arena roared. Ilya could feel it through his feet.

The smirking, self satisfied glee emanating from Wiebe was another physical presence, as he turned his full body toward Rozanov to look him square in the side of the face. “Well!” Wiebe exclaimed, arms folded high and tight over his chest. Ilya wouldn’t look at him. He wouldn’t do it. “If that wasn’t the Rozanov itself brought back to life in our very own barn.”

Across the ice, Troy slammed into Shane from behind, quickly followed by Bood. Laughing, Shane met Ilya’s eyes, and he grinned his handsome face off.

Good boy.

Play resumed. At three minutes left, the referee blew a whistle, sending the Seattle defender to the penalty box for high-sticking Dykstra, who was bleeding steadily from his mouth. The referee’s arm had gone up the second the stick rode under Dykstra’s visor and snapped his head back. Seattle’s coach didn’t even argue the call, and Ilya felt a moment of pity for the defender who would never, never live down earning a penalty with 3 minutes left in game 7 of the championship final. The fans behind the box appeared to be informing him of that fact, and when his face filled the jumbotron, he dropped his head to stare at the ground between his knees. They’d run it with the replay package forever.

Dykstra skated over to the bench and wiped his mouth off before returning to the ice as part of the powerplay unit nodding when Shane clearly asked if he was okay to play. Last season, a Carolina center had played through a 6 game series with what was later reported to be a broken foot. Once, a forward for Minnesota had broken his leg during game 3, and tried to keep playing. He succeeded (for 19 seconds). Ilya knew that no player would voluntarily leave the ice at a moment like this; Dykstra would worry about the teeth he’d spat out later.

And suddenly, it felt like the entire building was holding its breath. 3 mins left in the Stanley cup final. The Centaurs were up 2-1.

Seattle pulled their goalie.

“Luca,” Ilya crouched behind him at the bench. Luca leaned back, attentive. “Seattle is going to think the seam is coming to you, from Hollander. Don’t watch him. Play with him.” Luca looked at him, understanding beginning to dawn on his face.

“You don’t have to score.”

Luca blinked.

“You just have to make Seattle think you might.”

Luca hopped over the boards.

Ilya exhaled once.

“Win the draw,” he muttered.

Shane did.

Clean. Back to Dykstra. The roar rose immediately. Seattle’s penalty kill collapsed into fast and aggressive, their forwards sprinting. Nobody cared about conserving energy right now.

Dykstra slid the puck right to Bood.

Bood touched it immediately in the middle for Luca, and Seattle bit. Both high defenders shaded toward him at once, exactly like Ilya had hoped. Luca faked a shot, pulled the puck under his stick, then bumped it back to Dykstra before contact arrived.

Dykstra to Shane. Back to Dykstra. Over to Bood.

Seattle chased again.

The crowd surged with every pass. They had a sense of what was coming.

“Move them,” Wiebe barked.

Troy planted himself at the top of the crease getting cross-checked so hard Ilya could see the jersey stretch. Seattle’s goalie kept shoving at him with the blocker, trying to reclaim sightlines.

Luca slipped lower.

Now Seattle had a problem. Too many threats. Too much motion.

Bood threaded the puck down toward the goal line for Troy. The arena inhaled.

Troy didn’t try to jam it into the net. He immediately kicked it back out into space behind coverage, right onto Luca’s tape and for half a second, Luca had the slot open. Ilya saw every Seattle skater panic at once.

Three sticks collapsed inward.

Don’t watch him. Play with him. Luca watched the net. He snapped the puck sideways through the seam instead.

Shane was already there.

The sound off his blade cracked through the arena like splitting lumber.

The red light exploded.

For half a second, nobody moved, nobody made a sound. Then the goal horn detonated, and it was like an explosion.

The arena erupted so violently that Ilya felt it in every bone in his body. Shane disappeared from Ilya’s sight as he was immediately swallowed by the Centaurs who were piling on top of him on the ice. Next to him, Wiebe was slamming his palms on the board, screaming something Ilya was too lost in his own head to understand.

The scoreboard on the screen changed. 3-1 with one minute and six seconds left on the clock. This was almost over.

Ilya finally exhaled for the first time in what felt like the entire game so far. The crowd was chanting loudly for the home team, waving banners and jerseys, hugging each other in anticipation of a record breaking win. They were just one minute and six seconds from making history.

Seattle came out furious as the play resumed. There was no hesitation in their moves, their desperation obvious in the way they drove the puck deep and threw bodies at anything in a Centaurs jersey. The centaurs shifted into survival mode, and Ilya tracked his husband’s every move, watching as Shane led the team with utter ease.

Once again, in a move reminiscent of years before, Wyatt came out of the net and joined his team, keeping the puck well away from their goal. They were running down the remaining seconds, and the feeling in the arena was absolutely palpable in the best way.

3, 2, 1…

The horn blared out, and everything broke loose around Ilya. The Centaur bench emptied in a few seconds, players vaulting over the boards and through the door simultaneously, gloves and helmets and sticks flying into the air. The crowd was just one, loud noise, and Ilya felt himself being tugged into the arms of Brandon Wiebe, both almost in shock at the victory, even though they shouldn’t be surprised.

Before he knew it, Shane was in front of him, his hands clamped down on Ilya’s shoulders as he shook him, a jubilant smile on his face.

“We did it,” Shane said, but it came out as a half laugh, half sob. Tears were streaming down his face, and Ilya reached out, pulling him closer. “Holy shit, we fucking did it, Ilya.”

Shane was grinning in a way that he almost never allowed himself to show, at least not in public. It was like the weight of the past season had disappeared, and it was that sight which broke Ilya entirely.

He grabbed the front of Shane’s jersey and tugged him in, crashing their lips together frantically. Around them, the team and crowds were screaming and hugging, celebrating the win but for Ilya, all of that blurred into something meaningless. All that mattered was this man in his arms, this moment.

“Get out here,” Shane demanded, and both Wiebe and Ilya hopped the boards, walking out onto the carved up ice, hugging players as they all headed over one by one, thanking both Ilya and Wiebe for everything. Shane’s hand stayed in Ilya’s as they walked across the rink, tears falling from most people's faces. They all knew what this meant, how special this was. It was the best moment of Ilya’s life.

Ollie came running at them and cried as he jumped into Shane’s arms, Ilya quickly wrapping them up in a tight hug, burying his face in Shane’s hair. Yuna and David stood to the side as the family had their own moment, soaking up their victory.

“Daddy, you won, you was so good,” Ollie said as he finally sat up, wiping his eyes with his little hands. “Baaba and Grandpa were crying… oh no, you are crying! Illy, you crying?”

“I think we are all crying,” Ilya laughed, unashamed of showing emotion now. It was important to Shane that Ollie understand it was okay for men to cry. “Your dad was amazing, huh?”

“The best,” Ollie agreed, climbing into Ilya’s arms as Shane finally turned to his parents, hugging them both tightly. “You were amazing too, Illy.”

Jackie and Hayden joined the crowd, and Ilya accepted hugs from both of them, Hayden marvelling at some of the plays the Centaurs had displayed on the ice. Ilya was glad Shane had such good people in his life, and that he could count them as his own friends now too. Ollie went with Jackie as Shane pulled him over to his parents, the Hollanders hugging Ilya just as tightly as they’d hugged their own son.

Slowly, order was restored as the MHL staff began to get ready to begin the Cup presentation. Ilya and Wiebe attempted to head off the ice but they were dragged back by the team, standing side by side by the men they’d coached together for two years. Ilya could see Shane was visibly shaking, and he glanced at Yuna, David and Ollie, who were standing off to the side with the rest of the players' families, everyone huddled together.

It was overwhelming as Ilya watched Shane hoist the cup over his head for a sixth and most likely final time. He did a lap of the rink, soaking in the adulation of the fans who were screaming and chanting Shane’s name, the rest of the team soon joining in. For once, Ilya wasn’t taking photos, knowing that there’d be so many across the media for days to come that he could save to remember the moment.

The Cup was passed amongst the players until finally, it was back in Shane’s arms. Ilya’s eyes followed his husband as he skated over to him, grinning as he came to a stop.

“Hold it with me,” Shane asked, and Ilya glanced to Wiebe, who just nodded. Ilya stepped forward and took one side of the cup, while Shane took the other. They held it between them as they leaned in, kissing each other as everyone roared around them. They parted, and, eyes shining, they lifted the cup up, heavier than Ilya remembered it being.

Ilya couldn’t hear anything except the rush of blood in his ears. Everything had narrowed to one thing: Shane beside him, laughing breathlessly, cameras flashing all around them. It almost didn’t feel real. Shane lowered the cup just enough to meet Ilya’s eyes, his cheeks flushed and eyes shining with joy.

“We did it,” Shane said quietly between them.

Ilya nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes, we did.” And he set the cup down on the ice, reaching over and pulling Shane into another kiss in front of the world.

“Get a room!” someone yelled behind them, but both Shane and Ilya laughed, shaking their heads as they pulled apart.

“Not tonight,” Shane retorted as the Cup was picked up, placed back on its stand. “We have a fucking Stanley Cup to celebrate!”

 

June 15th - Ilya’s birthday

The come down from the Stanley Cup victory had taken days to get over. Ilya and Shane had stayed out all night with the Cens until the sun came up. It had been a long time since either of them had pulled an all nighter, but Ilya had relished in every moment. They’d drunk too many, sang too many drunken songs at the karaoke bar, and had taken far too many photos with enthusiastic fans.

Hayden and Jackie had left a little before Shane and Ilya, who were the last ones left standing along with Troy, Bood, Dystra and, to everyone’s surprise, Luca Haas. They’d stumbled into an Uber at just past seven in the morning, and had slept the rest of the day away, only waking up when Ilya’s stomach had growled with hunger. Shane must’ve been hungover because he hadn’t protested as Ilya had ordered takeaway pizza, eating it in bed together, drinking their body weights in water.

Shane had announced his retirement from the Centaurs two days after their Stanley Cup win, and they’d stayed off social media since then. It had been an emotional time for Shane, and Ilya had comforted him through it, focusing on enjoying the time with Shane and Ollie, with friends and family coming over to congratulate them on the win, and commiserate with Shane’s retirement. Although he’d been planning it, Shane was still struggling with the decision, even though they both knew it was right for him, and them as a family.

Now, though, it was Ilya’s thirty fourth birthday, and he was moaning as Shane’s mouth moved magically on him below the covers, Ilya trying to stifle his moans into the back of his hand. Shane was beyond talented with his mouth, and all too soon, Ilya was close to coming, reaching down and tugging at Shane’s hair.

Instead of releasing Ilya, Shane just tugged the covers down until he could look Ilya in the eyes, looking filthy with his mouth full. Ilya bit down hard on his bottom lip as Shane deepthroated him, a technique he’d worked hard to perfect and Ilya was reaping the benefits of. He clenched his jaw as he came down Shane’s throat, tapping Shane’s cheek when it all became a bit much and finally, Shane popped off, wiping off his mouth on the back of his hand before he wriggled up Ilya’s body, still laying on top of him.

“Happy birthday, husband,” he said, his voice low and raspy from taking Ilya’s cock too far into his throat. “Getting hotter every year.”

“I do try,” Ilya laughed, pulling Shane into a kiss. He loved how he could taste himself on Shane’s tongue, and he lost himself in it for a moment as Shane ground down against Ilya’s hip. “Use me to get off, solnyshko.”

“Is your birthday,” Shane protested but Ilya insisted, kissing Shane deeply as his rhythm didn’t falter, working fast and hard until he came in his boxers, the fabric wet and sticky against Ilya’s skin. “Fuck-”

“Happy birthday to me,” Ilya said with a laugh as Shane flopped down on the bed next to him, panting and trying to catch his breath. They laid there chatting softly until they heard a door open, and Shane jumped out of bed, getting into the ensuite bathroom just as Ollie opened the door, flying into the room and onto the bed.

“Happy birthday, Illy!”

“Thank you,” Ilya grinned, wrapping Ollie up in a hug. The little boy thrust a folded piece of paper into his hands, and Ilya grinned, looking down at the homemade card, seeing a picture of the three of them scrawled with Ollie’s best markers on the front. “Did you make this at school?”

“Yes! Mrs Arnold said I could do it because I finished all my Math.”

“Well, I love it.”

“That’s so cool,” Shane said as he came back into the room, boxers changed for a clean pair as he settled on the bed next to Ollie. “Looks just like us, I think.”

They gave Ilya a few wrapped gifts, and Ilya opened them, thanking them with hugs and kisses for the thoughtful choices they’d made for him. Truthfully, though, Ilya didn’t need gifts. He was more than happy with just spending the day with his family, enjoying the time they had together. They were planning on heading to the Hollanders for a barbecue later that afternoon, but the rest of the day was for them.

As Shane took Ollie downstairs to make Ilya a special birthday breakfast, Ilya went onto his phone, replying to a few birthday messages that were slowly rolling in as people woke up. Svetlana promised to call him later, and Ilya thanked a few of his former teammates at the Hammerheads for their messages. It meant a lot that people were thinking of him on his birthday, especially since he had no blood family who would bother with him today. Ilya knew for certain that blood was definitely not thicker than water.

After breakfast, they headed out, with Shane refusing to tell Ilya where they were going. They ended up at the Centaurs rink, Ollie running ahead with his skate bag banging against his back as they went inside. Shane insisted that he and Ilya lace up their skates in the locker room, and Ilya was puzzled by the fact that the rink was entirely dark as they stepped towards it, Ollie clutching his hand.

Shane persuaded him onto the ice and just as Ilya skated a few steps, with Ollie by his side, the lights suddenly flashed on and a chorus of “Happy birthday!” rang out from the gathered Centaurs in the middle of the ice, clutching a large sheet cake. Harris and Troy quickly lit the candles on the top, and Ilya stood there, trying not to cry as the team he loved sang him happy birthday, Harris filming off to the side to share later on with the world.

Ilya was told to make a wish as he blew out the candles (with Ollie’s help, of course), but Ilya only wished for life to stay this happy. There was nothing he wanted more than that, and Ilya liked the certainty about his future that Shane and Ollie provided him. The cake was taken off the ice by Shane and Harris, cut into slices before Ollie helped Shane hand them out. Even Shane indulged, and Ilya grabbed his fingers when he was done, sucking the icing off them.

“You’re gross, do you know that?”

“So you don’t mind my fingers in your asshole, but you do not like me eating icing from your fingers?”

“For fucks sakes, Ilya-”

“Swear jar!” Ollie screeched, and Ilya threw his head back, laughing at Shane’s reaction. The swear jar was something Shane had put in place due to Ilya’s potty mouth, but it was ironic that the worst offender for donations was Shane himself. Granted, it was often Ilya who pushed him to profanity, but even so, Ilya considered it a small win each and every time Shane pushed a five dollar bill into the jar.

The team presented Ilya with a present, an enormous framed team photo from the night they won their Cup. It featured Ilya and Shane kissing with the Cup between them, the team all cheering in the background. Ilya knew it would make their way into their recently installed trophy room, and he skated around, hugging and thanking each of them.

“Nice badge,” Bood quipped as he pointed at the ‘birthday boy’ badge pinned to Ilya’s shirt that Ollie had insisted he wear all day.

“Thank you. Want everyone to know is my special day,” Ilya grinned. “Ollie’s idea.”

“If you say so,” Bood teased, hugging Ilya before he let him move onto the next person to thank.

Ollie persuaded the twenty strong group of men into a hockey game, with two of the rookies designated as referees. Ollie was of course the centre for his own team, and Shane was the other, Ilya laughing as the two Hollanders stood face to face at centre circle.

“Ready? I want a clean game-”

“Yes, Coach,” Ollie said, tapping his stick on the floor, his face serious. Ilya clearly took too long to drop the puck because Ollie sighed, looking up at him. “Illy, you have to drop the puck please!”

The team burst into laughter and Ilya quickly did as he was told, watching as Shane allowed his son to snatch the puck before taking off up the ice after him. The other players weren’t going all that easy on Ollie, and Ilya was amazed to see the way Ollie weaved his way around them, pulling off what could only be described as an exceptional pass to Troy, who quickly sent the puck flying into the net past Wyatt.

“Yes! Good one, Troy, very good, I’m proud of you!” Ollie called, and Harris grabbed Ilya’s shoulder, both of them laughing at Ollie’s effusive praise.

“Cap, you should take some notes on motivation from your kid!” one of the rookies yelled, and Shane smiled almost sadly at him.

“Not your Cap anymore, LaPointe.”

“You’ll always be our Captain,” came the reply, and everyone nodded in agreement. The game carried on for another fifteen minutes, and in the end, Ollie’s team beat Shane’s 3 goals to 2. The team picked him up on their shoulders, skating around the ice chanting his name. Ilya filmed it on his phone, quickly sending it to Yuna and David.

“You look happy,” Shane said as he skated up, leaning against Ilya as they watched the boy amongst the team members, content and safe with the men he’d grown up with.

“I am. How could I not be?”

They finished up on the ice and headed home, carefully putting Ilya’s gift into the back of the car. He couldn’t wait to get it up on the wall. Shane showered, followed by Ilya, and then they all dressed up, ready to head over to Yuna and David’s. Shane had told Ilya he could call off, saying that they wanted a family day to themselves, but truthfully, Ilya was looking forward to spending the evening with his in-laws. They’d become two of his favourite people, and he enjoyed how at home he felt with them. He didn’t have his own parents anymore, but Shane’s were more than making up for it.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart!” Yuna cried as they walked in through the front door. Usually, she hugged Ollie, then Shane with Ilya always bringing up the rear of the group, but today, she had a beeline for Ilya, wrapping him up in a tight hug, kissing his cheek. “We’re so glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Ilya grinned as Yuna let him go, turning to her son and grandson as they shrugged off their jackets. Shane hung them up and they followed her through to the sitting room, settling on the sofa. Ilya ripped open the card they gave him, trying not to tear up at the kind words written inside, and he passed it to Shane, getting up to hug them.

“You got Illy presents?” Ollie asked, and Shane’s head snapped towards his son.

“Ollie, you can’t ask that, that’s rude.”

“No it isn’t,” David interrupted. “It’s Ilya’s birthday, so it stands to reason we have gifts. Ollie, come and help me grab them.”

Ilya waited patiently until Ollie and David came into the room, balancing a large box between them, a gift bag hanging from David’s wrist. Ilya was handed the bag first, and inside was a bottle of very good Russian Vodka, something David and Ilya enjoyed sharing together regularly. It was nice to have something in common with him, and Ilya thanked him, already knowing they’d be sharing a glass or two later while Shane and Yuna probably stuck to wine.

“And this is from both of us,” Yuna said, as she and Ollie pushed the large box towards him. Ilya enlisted Ollie’s help to tear off the blue and yellow star wrapping paper, and he laughed as he realised what it was.

“Mom, is this a gift for Ollie or Ilya?” Shane asked, chuckling himself as he saw the box as more wrapping paper was removed.

“A Ferrari like Illy’s!”

“A Lego Ferrari, wow! We have to build this one, Ollie. Will you help me?”

“Yeah! How many pieces?”

“Uh, three thousand, seven hundred and seventy eight.”

Ollie just blinked at Ilya. “I don’t know that number.”

“Is big,” Ilya agreed, and Shane snorted at that, turning away to smother his laughter. “Thank you Yuna and David, this is best gift.”

Ilya had to persuade Ollie out of wanting to start building it now, telling him they’d save it for home so they wouldn’t lose any of their pieces. They sat and listened to Ilya and Ollie telling them about their morning at the rink, celebrating with the Centaurs until Yuna said she had to start preparing the food. Ilya trailed after her, as Shane and Ollie followed David outside to fire up the grill.

“How is Shane doing now?” Yuna asked, still a bit concerned for how emotional Shane was about his retirement.

“Better, I think he is accepting it. Might be different when season starts, but he seems happier,” Ilya answered, chopping the peppers as he’d learnt to with Yuna years ago now. “I think when he can get Foundation started properly, he will be more distracted.”

Shane had come up with the idea of starting a foundation a few weeks before the end of the season, and now plans were in full swing. It was to feature hockey camps for children throughout the summer, taught by Shane, Ilya and some of their hockey teammates from across North America. It was so anticipated that players like Scott Hunter had been tempted out of retirement to join them. Money raised would go towards the new Irina Foundation, supporting mental health charities in honour of Ilya’s mother. Ilya had cried so hard when Shane had revealed his plans.

“You know my son. He likes to be busy,” Yuna mused, adding the tomatoes she’d just sliced to a separate bowl so they didn’t contaminate the salad, for Shane of course. “Did you sign your extension with the Centaurs?”

Ilya nodded. “Another three years.”

“Good. They're lucky to have you, sweetie.”

Ilya hummed in agreement, but really, he knew he was the one who was lucky to have such an amazing team to coach. They took the prepared salads outside and saw Shane holding Ollie on his hip as they watched David grill the burgers and chicken, corn wrapped in foil around the edges too. It wasn’t anything fancy but this was exactly what Ilya loved.

Conversation flowed easily as they ate, Ollie excitedly telling them about the school trip they were taking to the aquarium in ten days time. Shane had volunteered to go as a parent helper, and Ilya only wished he could tag along and watch Shane attempt to handle spending an entire day with a class of twenty five six-year-olds, as well as the noise and chaos that came with it.

“Can I go get it now, Daddy?” Ollie suddenly asked as they all relaxed at the table, meals finished, bellies full and content.

Shane looked at his son and nodded, and Ilya watched as they all exchanged glances as Ollie ran inside by himself.

“What is he doing?”

“Just… come with me?” Shane asked, getting up and holding out his hand for Ilya to take. He did so, and Shane led them down the garden, sitting down on a blanket just as Ollie joined them, two envelopes in his hand. “Ol, sit with me please.”

Ollie did, and for some reason, Ilya felt nervous as the two Hollanders in front of him exchanged wordless glances, Shane’s hands shaking slightly.

“Before Ollie gives this to you, I want to say that we have both talked about this a lot. I don’t want you to think that we’re just doing this on a whim. We’ve talked about it for a while now, with my parents as well, and it’s what we want. Especially Ollie.”

“Can I?” Ollie asked, and Shane nodded. Ollie got up and passed over the largest envelope, settling on his knees in front of Ilya. “Happy birthday, Illy. I really hope you like it. And that you say yes.”

Frowning, Ilya slid his finger under the flap, glancing up to see Yuna and David watching on, Yuna already clutching a tissue in her hand as she rested a head on David’s shoulder. He pulled out the papers and slowly turned them over.

At first, his eyes skimmed quickly over the page without comprehending the words, only catching glimpses of legal phrases and areas marked with bright yellow sticky notes, with ‘sign here’ written on them. Requests for signatures, dates…

Then he slowed down, his eyes catching on a name.

Oliver David Hollander.

He blinked as his breath quickened, reading slower this time, making sure he understood each word as he took it all in. His eyes settled on one word, and he began to cry softly, realising what this was.

Ilya’s fingers tightened around the papers as he read it over again, the words jumping from the page at him.

Petition for Adoption.

And just below that-

Proposed adoptive parent: Ilya Grigoryevich Rozanov

“Oh my god,” he breathed out, his voice shaky, though his words came out laced with both joy and disbelief. He shook his head as he continued to stare down at the pages, finally believing it was real.

Shane wanted him to adopt his son. Not just to play the part of a step parent, but because he wanted Ilya to be Ollie’s other parent. Legally, permanently, officially. For the rest of their lives.

In front of Ilya, Ollie had gone impossibly still, like he was waiting for a reaction. Small hands were folded in his lap, his eyes wide with nerves as he fixed his gaze on Ilya.

Ilya tried to speak but he couldn’t get the words out. He pressed a hand to his mouth, staring helplessly between Shane, Ollie and the papers held in his shaking hands.

For a moment, he sat in his own thoughts, thinking about the life that had existed before Ollie and Shane had come crashing back into his life. Apartments and houses that had been too quiet, every flight he’d taken sitting alone, falling asleep and waking up alone every day. A life shaped by loneliness.

But now? Now everything was light where before, there had been only darkness, shadows of loneliness lurking around every corner. Light in the form of a six year old boy who loved Ilya openly and completely, just because he wanted to. Light from his husband, the man Ilya had never stopped loving. The two people who looked at Ilya like he was the sun, and they were helplessly and willingly caught in his orbit.

“Illy?” Ollie’s voice was so small, and Ilya slowly lowered the papers into his lap. He reached forward, cupping Ollie’s cheeks in his hands, looking at him, studying his face more intently than he ever had. “Do you wanna ‘dopt me, Illy?”

“You want this?” Ilya asked, his voice still shaking. Just behind Ollie, he could see Shane crying, his hands over his mouth. “You really want this?”

Ollie nodded. “Yeah.” He looked over his shoulder at Shane, holding out the second envelope. “I already think you’re my Papa in my brain.”

Ilya let out a broken laugh and sob combined, and he buried his face in his hands before Shane came forward, holding him tightly, rocking him side to side as everything started to sink in. He released him minutes later, and Ilya lifted the hem of his shirt, using it to wipe away his tears, although it was pointless since he was still crying.

“Yes,” he said instantly, looking between Ollie and Shane. “Yes, god, yes.”

“Really?” Shane asked, and Ollie took his hand, holding it tightly.

“I would sign a thousand papers if it means I could make him mine,” Ilya said, and he watched as grins bloomed widely on the faces of his boys.

Yuna and David were walking closer now, and Ilya could hear Yuna openly sobbing into her tissue now, watching her son complete his family. David muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘Jesus Christ’ as he wiped at his own eyes, trying and failing not to get emotional.

But Ilya couldn’t focus on any of that, not now. All he could feel was the weight of Ollie and Shane in his arms, the two people who apparently trusted and loved him more than anybody else in the world.

“I love you both so much,” Ilya managed to get out, the papers still beside his knee on the grass, fluttering gently in the breeze, reminding him that they were there, that this was what Shane and Ollie wanted. “My husband. My-” he stuttered, letting out a shaky breath, “my son.”

“Open my card, Papa,” Ollie requested, and the three of them knelt back down, Yuna and David joining them. It was a card, and Ilya carefully opened the envelope, sliding it out. Tears continued to fall as he read the words on the front, proclaiming ‘To a wonderful Papa. Happy birthday’.

Inside, Ollie had written:

To my new Papa

I hope you have an amazing birthday with me and Daddy. I hope you say yes to adopting me because you are the best Papa in the world and I love you so much.

I have wanted to call you Papa since I was 5, I hope it is okay and you like it.

Lots of love
Ollie xxxx

“I do like it,” Ilya said, gripping Ollie’s hand tightly. “I love being your Papa.”

“My Papa and my Illy,” Ollie said with a grin, jumping to his feet. “Baaba, Grandpa, Illy said yes! He’s gonna adopt me and be my Papa!”

With that admission, the little boy burst into tears again, and this time, Yuna and David scooped him up, walking away and leaving Shane and Ilya alone.

“You sure this is okay? Not too much?”

“Is best thing you have ever asked me. Thank you for trusting me with your son, Shane. I- I cannot tell you what it means to me.”

“Our son,” Shane said, leaning in and kissing Ilya softly. “We’re family. All of us.”

“I do want to change one thing though, is ok? I know we didn’t change our names when we got married because of our jobs but now I think we can, yes? I want that so much with you. I want to be a Hollander like you and Ollie.” Ilya stated, looking into Shane’s eyes trying to convey the love he had for him, their son and the family they had formed. “It would be everything to me to share your name, Shane.”

“Fuck, I love you so much,” Shane said, smiling back at him brightly. “The Hollanders it is then.”

This might not have been the life that Ilya had planned for.

But it was the one he’d been missing along.

And now it was his. Forever. 

Chapter End Notes

And that's it.

Done.

They'll be back in their first one shot soon! But thank you, and I hope it was everything you wanted and hoped for. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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