Summary:

“Shane.” Ilya takes Shane’s head in his hands, squeezes his cheeks so that Shane looks puffy, absurd. Beloved. “I am saying that to me, even though you are retired, you will always be No. 1 hockey player. Fuck Wayne Gretzky.”

That’s what does it, as Ilya knew it would. Shane rears back, spluttering, outraged, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, I have committed blasphemy now. They will take back my citizenship, big crime, very sad.”

Shane smoothes his hands along Ilya’s calves, rests his fingertips on Ilya’s ankles. “Fuck Wayne Gretzky,” he says. He looks like he can’t believe what he’s saying. Ilya wonders, distantly, if he can get it on tape to play back to himself when things feel particularly bleak. “We can live in exile together. I don’t care. You’re my, my best, my second best hockey player forever too.”

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Shane decides he has to retire. Ilya, of course, will go with him.