Reading Time: 119 Minutes

Title: One Hope Then Another
Author: CorgiQueen14
Fandom: Heated Rivalry
Genre: Contemporary, Episode Related, Pre-Relationship, Romance
Relationship(s): Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov
Content Rating: R
Warnings: Hate Speech, There’s one section that has some BDSM elements. and regarding the hate speech warning: no slurs are used but there are some scenes that have homophobic elements and I wanted to warn for that
Author Note: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy the fic!
Beta: Grammarly
Word Count: 55,600
Summary: Shane Hollander knew that this thing he had with Ilya Rozanov couldn’t last. There were a thousand reasons why he should walk away and never look back. But maybe hope was enough of a reason to stay. And maybe he wasn’t the only one hoping they could be something more than what they were.
Artist: penumbria

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Chapter 7:

Shane was jumping out of his skin the morning before their next game. Ilya had been back from Russia for nearly a week, and this was the first time that they had seen each other in person.

When the metros got onto the ice for warmups, Shane scanned the rink until he saw Ilya stretching at the center line. Trying to act casual, like this was just another day, Shane skated to the center line.

“Are we still on for tonight? After?” Ilya gave him a nod, and Shane pressed onward. “1919. That’s the code for the front door,” he swallowed, smoothing a hand over the blade of his stick as he checked to see if anyone was watching. “I’ll text it to you.”

“Front door. Brave.” Ilya said, giving him a teasing glance.

“Fuck you.”

“Later.”

Shane hid his grin as he skated back to Montreal’s bench.

“What was that about?” Hayden asked as he skated close.

Shane shrugged, trying to act casual. “Oh, I just offered my condolences.”

“That’s nice. Fuck, I should have done that. What did he say?”

“Told me to fuck off.” Shane lied, Hayden barking out a laugh as he shook his head.

“Jesus, what a dick.”

“He’s not that bad.” Shane defended Ilya, unable to stop himself. Hayden gave him an odd look, and Shane tried to cover himself. “It’s mostly an act.”

“A pretty convincing one,” Hayden argued, and Shane rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well, let’s make sure we win this one, right?” he said, raising his voice.

His team cheered, and they took to the ice, Shane getting ready for the face-off.

He glanced up once to see Ilya’s grin and let out a grin of his own when he stole the puck away from him.

Shane dashed down the ice, knowing that he should keep his eyes on the path in front of him. But unable to help himself, like Orpheus ascending from the Underworld, he looked back to cast a smug grin over his shoulder at Ilya.

Ilya grinned in response, before something in this expression shifted. Shane watched as his eyes tightened, as he closed the distance between them until they were mere inches from each other. And then something hit them both.

Shane didn’t remember anything after that.

~

Ilya groaned, pulling himself to a seated position from where he had landed on top of Shane.

He wasn’t sure what possessed him to do that. He should’ve been focused on getting the puck away from Shane and scoring. But when he saw his teammate about to hit Shane, and he knew Shane didn’t see it coming, something in him had to act.

He looked over at Shane, expecting the other man to be glaring at him with his angry kitten face.

But he wasn’t. He was lying on the ice, his eyes closed as his chest barely rose.

“Marleau, you motherfucker!” he heard one of Shane‘s teammates scream in the background, but he didn’t care. He just kept looking at Shane, the other man not moving.

“Hollander.” he reached out to the other man, hissing when he moved his wrist.

Before he can make contact, the referees got in between them. The medical team swarmed the ice, one member going to him while the rest went to Shane.

“Rozanov, let me check you out.” The medic reached for his wrist, and Ilya hissed in pain.

Is he okay? Fucking tell me!”

“Focus on yourself, Rozanov.”

He barely heard a word the medic said, his gaze fixed on Shane’s prone form as he was lifted onto a stretcher.

“Rozanov!” He turned to the medic, the woman raising an eyebrow at him.

“What did you say?” He asked, and the medic exchanged a worried look with his coach.

“I’m worried about head trauma. I think he needs to go to the hospital with Hollander.”

Someone helped Ilya to his feet, leading him towards the end of the rink. He barely had time to take off his skates before following Shane down the hallway.

“I need you to stay awake, ok, Shane?” One of the medics said. “Eyes open, buddy.”

“ok,” he heard Shane mumble. “My parents…”

“Your coach is calling them, ok?”

“ok.” He hears Shane pause. “Tell him I’m fine, I’m ok. He’s going to worry.”

“Your coach is calling your dad now.”

“Not him.” Shane’s voice dropped to a whisper, Ilya barely able to hear his own name falling from Shane’s lips.

Ilya’s heart broke a little as he heard those words. Shane was injured, perhaps badly, and he was worried about Ilya.

“Who?” One of the medics asked as they put Shane in the back of the ambulance. Ilya followed, sitting mere inches from Shane. He could have reached out to hold his hand if he wanted to, and he did. But he knew that he couldn’t.

“Hey, Shane, you really need to keep your eyes open, ok?” one of the paramedics said, Shane’s breathing becoming more and more labored.

All of a sudden Shane started to wheeze, his body jerking from where he was stepped to the gurney.

“What is going on?” Ilya leaned forward despite himself.

“Stay back, Rozanov,” one of the paramedics barked, moving to examine Shane. As they put a stethoscope to Shane’s chest, Shane started to cough. A bloody foam emerged from his lips, staining his skin red as Ilya watched in horror.

He was taken back to that day when he was twelve, when he found his other on the flood of her bedroom. She had been lying in a pool of her own vomit, blood staining her lips. His father had made him scrub the carpet for hours to get rid of the stain.

“Shit.” One of the paramedics cursed. “He’s got a collapsed lung. He must have broken a rib when he got hit.”

The paramedics worked on Shane as Ilya pressed himself into the wall of the ambulance, giving them room to work. His eyes never left Shane’s prone, struggling form.

When they reached the hospital, they took Shane in another direction and steered Ilya towards one of the doctors.

Ilya trailed behind him, his mind still stuck on Shane and what the paramedic had said. The hit had punctured Shane’s rib. How much of his injuries had been worsened by Ilya falling onto him?

He’d thought from the start that he would break Shane Hollander. And now it appeared that he was right. That thought swirled around in his head for what felt like hours, Ilya spiraling more and more.

“Mr. Rozanov!” He snapped back to attention, dimly aware of the fact that he was sitting on a hospital bed with a doctor staring at him.

“Hm?” He looked up. “I am sorry, what did you say?”

The doctor gave him a concerned look. “I said that you had a sprained wrist and we were keeping you for observation.”

“That is not necessary. I am fine.”

The doctor gave him a look. “Mr. Rozanov, you have been failing to respond to any questions or directions since you came into the emergency room.” She shone a light in his eyes, continuing to check him for a concussion. She made a note on her notepad before continuing. “You don’t have any obvious signs of a concussion, but I’d rather be overcautious.”

Ilya let out an annoyed groan. “Fine.” He paused. “Can you tell me if Hollander is all right? We came in together. The hit was…very bad. As another captain, I would like to check on him.”

“I’m sorry, I cannot give you information about another patient.”

“You cannot even tell me if he is okay?”

“It’s against the law,” she began to walk away. “Someone will take you to your room for the night.”

Ilya was left alone, the bustle of the emergency room barely registering to him as he sat there.

He could not find out if Hollander was okay, or even if he was alive. Why would they tell him anything? As far as the rest of the world knew, he and Hollander were nothing to each other.

~~

Ilya had been in his room for nearly two hours, wondering what was happening to Shane, when Marleau walked through the door.

“Did we win?’ Ilya sked, trying to distract himself.

“Of course,” Marley scoffed, dropping Ilya’s bag on the dresser and handing him his phone. “Montreal put up a hell of a fight, though, even with Hollander out.”

“Is that shiner their work?”

Marleau touched the skin around his eye, wincing slightly. “Yeah. Not like I didn’t deserve it, though.” He took a look around the room. “When are you getting out of here?”

“Not until the morning.”

“Jesus, Roz, they’re keeping you overnight because of a sprained wrist?”

Ilya shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “Is more because they are worried about concussion. I probably do not have one, but still.”

Marleau let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “That’s a relief. We’d be sunk for the playoffs if you were out.”

“Yeah.” Ilya looked down, trying not to let the anger seep into his voice. “I was lucky.”

Marley was his friend, perhaps his best friend in Montreal. And yet, when he thought about how Marley played a role in landing Shane in the hospital? Ilya wanted to kill him.

Marleau went quiet. “Yeah. Hollander looked like he was in rough shape.”

“He coughed up blood in the ambulance.” Ilya kept his gaze on the bed. “They said he had a collapsed lung, and maybe a broken rib from the hit.”

“Wow.” Marleau paused for a moment. “Is he going to be okay?”

Ilya shook his head, the movement killing him. “I do not know. They would not tell me.”

Marleau was silent for a long moment, and then he moved forward, sitting in the chair next to Ilya’s bed.

“I’m going to ask you something, but you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” he paused. “Though, not answering if sort of answering–”

“Spit it out, Marley, Jesus Christ.”

“Is Shane Hollander your Montreal Jane?”

Ilya froze, his eyes darting up to Marley’s face. How had he found them out? They had been so careful.

Marleau saw the panic in his eyes and leaned forward, putting out his hands. “Roz, relax. I’m not going to tell anyone. I just-I just had to ask.”

Ilya took a deep breath, trying to center himself.

“How did you–” he started to ask, Marleau snorting in response.

“I’ve been on a team with you for years, Roz. I’d like to think I know you pretty well.” He let out a low breath, leaning back in his chair. “There was always something about the way you and Hollander were with each other. At first, I thought it was nothing, but as Montreal Jane became more important to you, I realized something. She always texted you around games with the Metros. When we were in Montreal, or the Metros came to Boston, you’d disappear.” He closed his eyes for a second, a pained expression crossing his face. “But the pieces didn’t fall into place until tonight, when you skated between me and Hollander.” his eyes were intent, locked onto Ilya. “I’ve checked hundreds of people like that, and you’ve never done anything like that.”

“He was looking back at me.” Ilya’s voice was almost too quiet to be heard. “He didn’t see you coming.”

Cliff let out a low breath. “So you tried to take the hit instead.”

Ilya let out a bitter laugh. “And I made it so much worse. If I had not landed on him, his rib would not have punctured his lung.”

“That’s not on you,” Marley told him, shaking his head. “That hit was so much harder than I thought it was going to be.” He sighed. “I’m so sorry, Roz. I didn’t Eman for anything of this to happen.”

“I know Marley.”

Marleau let out a bitter laugh. “You should hate me for hurting him.”

“Not even Hollander would hate you.”

“His team does.” Marley ran a hand over his jaw. “Pike has one hell of a swing.”

“Well, to be fair, you did deserve it a little.”

Cliff looked like he wanted to argue, but sighed. “That’s fair,” he paused for a moment. “So, how long have you and Hollander been together? And how did it even start?”

“We’re not. Is casual.”

Marley stared at him. “Are you sure I didn’t hit you on the head?”

“Marley–”

“You got hurt for him, Roz. How is any of this casual?”

“Is way it has to be. We cannot be together, not the way we want to be.”

Marley shook his head. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Say nothing. Please.”

“Roz, of course I’m going to keep this to myself. But if you can’t be honest with me, at least be honest with yourself.

Ilya wished he could say that he was being honest, but he knew he couldn’t. Not that it would have mattered. Being honest didn’t stop him from hurting Shane.

Marleau looked down at his watch and cursed. “I have to get back to the hotel. I’ll come by in the morning to get you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Marley paused as he got up. “And maybe someday soon, you can tell me the whole story of you and Jane.”

Ilya let out a small grin. “I think that could be arranged.”

Marleau left the room, and Ilya sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Before too long had passed, his phone buzzed with a message from Marley.

Marley: he’s down the hall from you, fifth door on the left. Go check on him later.

Ilya let out a small smile, thinking of a way to do just that.

~~

For the record, Ilya knew this was a stupid plan.

Getting kept for observation was one thing, but sneaking around the hospital in the middle of the night? If he were caught by the doctors, if a single patient saw him sneaking into Shane’s room and took a picture, if any one of a thousand things happened, Ilya would be done for. But he had to take the chance. He had to risk it. After seeing Shane gasping for air in the ambulance, his chest heaving as bloody foam stained his lips, he had to see that he was okay.

He knew he had to plan this out precisely. So, after they came into his room for the thousandth time that night to do a neuro check, Ilya knew it was his time to strike.

Grateful that they had let him change into his sweats, he slipped out of his room and made his way down the hall to Shane’s room.

He wondered if Shane would be asleep, if it was better o just to wait until the morning to talk to him. But as he peered into Shane’s room, he saw the other man blinking his eyes in the dim light.

He opened the door slowly, Shane’s eyes lighting up as he saw who was coming in.

“Ilya!” he said, his hushed voice almost deafening in the stillness of the night.

Ilya shushed him, slipping inside and closing the door. For someone who had been gasping for air a few hours ago, Shane looked better than expected. His right arm was in a sling, with slight bruising already forming across his face.

Ilya stayed by the door, unsure whether he should get closer. If Shane would even want him to get closer. It was partly his fault that Shane was like this, after all.

“I, um, I just wanted to…” Ilya swallowed hard, scanning Shane’s figure for a sign of something wrong. “Are you ok?”

Shane shrugged, the action causing him to grimace. “Concussion, two broken ribs, and a fractured collarbone. Also, a collapsed lung, but they took the chest tube out, so that’s all good.”

“But you are okay?”

“I’m out for the playoffs, but…” Shane shrugged again, Ilya wanting to snap at him to stop causing himself pain.

“Could have been worse.” Ilya finally said, his voice low.

“Could have been worse.” Shane agreed, shaking his head. He still had a trace of a smile on his face.

“Marleau feels terrible,” Ilya told him. “He did not mean to hurt you.” He paused, shifting his feet. “I did not mean to hurt you.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“And yet I did.”

There was something in Shane’s eyes that Ilya did not want to know how to read. “Look.” Shane finally said, his voice gentle. “I forgive both of you. Part of the game. We all get our bell rung eventually, right?”

Ilya fought the urge to retort. “Right.”

Shane frowned at Ilya, as if just realizing that he was so far away from him.

“Hey.” He wiggled his fingers at Ilya, raising his voice. “Hey!”

“ok, ok…” Ilya rushed towards him, trying to keep Shane quiet. The last thing they needed was for some well-meaning night-shift nurse to come see what the commotion was in the hockey star’s room.

“Shhh, shhh.” Ilya stepped closer, Shane giving him an indignant stare as he wiggled his fingers. Even in the hospital with tubes and monitors, Shaun looked like an angry kitten when annoyed.

Sighing, Ilya took Shane’s hand, the other man immediately settling.

“Yes!” Shane said, closing his eyes for a moment as he nodded to himself. “Better.”

Ilya cracked a small smile. “How many drugs are you on right now, Hollander?”

Shane looked up at him. “I don’t know.”

Ilya felt his heart soften slightly as he stood there holding Shane’s hand. He let his hand rise to Shane’s face, stroking his cheekbone with his knuckles. Shane leaned into the touch with a satisfied hum, and Ilya’s composure cracked the slightest amount.

“You scared me.” He finally admitted. “When I saw you in the ambulance—the way you were gasping for air—I thought I was going to lose you.”

“Never.” Shane opened his eyes, staring up at Ilya. The dim light made his eyes appear nearly black. “You could never lose me, Ilya. You couldn’t even lose me when you were a dick at the Olympics.”

Ilya frowned at him. “I was not a dick—”

“You were a dick.” Shane chuckled, grimacing as he jostled his shoulder. “But it’s okay. I still love you.”

What did Ilya do to deserve this level of torture? The kindest, most perfect man was here, with Ilya, and he couldn’t tell him he loved him in a way that he would understand. Even after almost losing him. What the hell was wrong with Ilya?

“I’m sorry I didn’t text you after the game,” Shane said after a moment of silence.

“No, it’s ok,” Ilya told him, Shane ignoring him and continuing to speak.

“I was excited about seeing you after the game,” Hollander said, his eyes wide as he looked up at Ilya. “I’m mostly mad at Marleau for fucking that up. I really missed you.”

Ilya tried to ignore the fluttering he felt in his gut at Hollander’s words. “He feels really bad. He wanted me to say that he was sorry.”

“You know, I had a whole plan to ask you something.” Shane mused. Ilya’s eyes widening. He wanted to take a step back, but Hollander held onto his hand.

“Maybe it’s better if you just rest now.” He suggested, while praying to every saint in the Russian Orthodox canon, that Hollander was not about to ask him to fucking marry him while drugged out of his mind on painkillers.”

“I was going to ask you…”

“Hollander…”

“Will you come to my cottage this summer?” Shane grinned, and Ilya felt himself relax. Hollander’s cottage. Not a marriage proposal. But then Ilya’s gut twisted as he realized there was no way they could risk it. It was bad enough if anyone had caught them together over the years, but weeks together in the same house? Ilya would not be able to hold back his feelings forever.

“Your cottage?”

“Yes.” Shane nodded, determined as a wheedling note entered his voice. “Don’t go to Russia. Come to my house. We’ll have so much fun, it’s so private. No one would know.”

Ilya hated every moment of this. He wanted nothing more than to say yes, to spend two weeks with Shane. To spend a life with Shane if he could. But he couldn’t, and they both knew it. To pretend otherwise would be cruel. “Hollander, you know I can’t do that. If I were caught—”

Shane kept speaking, looking up at Ilya with his dark eyes that always made Ilya turn to jelly. “We could have a week or even two. We’d be completely alone.” Shane squeezed Ilya’s hand once, twice, three times. “We’d finally be together.”

Ilya had to get out of that room, away from this sweet, silly man who wanted to give Ilya the world.

“Maybe. Maybe.” He finally said, forcing a small smile to his face.

“Okay.” Shane leaned back against his pillows, satisfied. “It’s a really nice cottage. It has its own well, so the water is really good.”

Why the fuck was Ilya in love with his idiot? The effect that Shane Hollander’s stupidly pretty face had on his nervous system should be studied by scientists in a lab.

“Okay. I will think about it.” Ilya checked his phone, cursing at the time. “I need to get back to my room.”

“Wait.” Shane tightened his grip. “Can I have a good night kiss?”

Ilya sighed. “Hollander—”

“Just a little one. To make me feel better. I’ll go to sleep right after, I promise.” Shane’s eyes were now impossibly wide. How the fuck was he doing this? Hollander was a grown man, not the cartoon cat from Shrek.

Ilya knew there was no getting out of this. And, if he was being honest with himself, he did not want to get out of his.

“Very well.” He leaned in and kissed Shane softly on the mouth, pulling back before Shane could deepen the kiss. Shane whined a little, Ilya rolling his eyes. “A promise is a promise. Go to sleep, you naughty kotik.”

“Okay.” Shane waved at Ilya, finally letting go of his hand. “Bye bye.”

Ilya paused at the door, looking back to see Shane finally drifting off to sleep. He looked so peaceful, even with all the medical equipment.

He wished he could have this. That he could see Shane fall asleep at night and wake up with him every morning. But that would never happen. He could never have that, and he knew it. There was no point in pretending.

Ilya sighed as he slipped out of Shane’s room, making his way back to his room before anyone knew he was gone.

~~

The next morning, after he was discharged, Ilya paused as he passed the door to Shane’s room. Part of him wished that he could go in there and be with him in the light of day. He wished more than anything that he could take Hollander up on his offer to go to his precious cottage and spend weeks with him in the sunlight. But he knew better. He could never have someone like Shane in the light of day. That was more than he ever deserved. He would only be permitted to have them in the shadows. That was how it had always been, and that was how it was always going to be as long as he was playing hockey.

It would take a miracle for anything to change between them.

~~

Jane: I can’t believe New York is finally going to win the cup.

Ilya couldn’t believe it either. Scott fucking Hunter was going to be a Stanley Cup champion in about forty seconds.

Ilya: I hate Hunter.

Jane: No you don’t.

Ilya: I do.

“Ilyusha, can you focus?” Ilya looked up from where he was sitting on the couch, Svetlana packing a suitcase to take home to Russia. “I am bringing your niece’s presents. Can you at least help me pack?”

“Fine.” Ilya groaned. “Anything would be better than watching a dinosaur win the cup.”

“Scott Hunter is still in his prime.”

“That’s what the dinosaurs thought, too, before the asteroid took them out.”

Svetlana rolled her eyes. “Give me two minutes, and then you can go back to hating Scott Hunter.”

“I can multitask.”

The tow of the packed quickly, Ilya sitting down on the couch before long.

“And there you have it!” the announcer said, Ilya rolling his eyes. “82 regular season games, and the New York Admirals have won the Cup for the first time in 28 years! Your 2017 champions!”

“I cannot believe what I am witnessing right now!” Ilya groaned as he helped Sveta pack. “This should have been our year.”

“Maybe,” Svetlana shrugged. “If you had not bruised your ribs and sprained your wrist, perhaps you could have won it all.”

Ilya’s hand went to his wrist, lost, I thought. As much as he wanted to win, he didn’t regret injuring his wrist. Not when it might have helped protect Shane.

Thinking of Shane brought his thoughts back to his invitation for Ilya to spend time with him at his cottage this summer. Ilya knew that he could never go, that there would be no explanation if they were discovered that would protect them, but that did not stop him from wanting to. Instead, he would be spending his summer alone in Boston while Svetlana went back to Russia. Some people from his team would be sticking around, but it would not be the same, and Ilya knew it.

Ilya could have gone with her, but Russia was not a place he ever wanted to visit again. His desire to return had died with his father.

Instead, he was trapped between a city he did not wish to return to and a place he could not risk going to.

“Hey.” Svetlana put a hand on his shoulder, Ilya shrugging it off.

“I’m not sad.”

“You’re allowed to be.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Ilya sighed, frowning at the screen.

Shane texted him about the Admirals winning. Ilya tapped out a response as he continued to watch.

“Hunter seems to be looking out to the fans,” an announcer said. “No doubt a recognition of their sticking with him.

But Ilya wasn’t sure that was it at all. Something in Hunter’s gaze as he looked out into the crowds told him that he was doing something else.

“Hunter is now trying to get someone’s attention, apparently inviting someone from the crowd down to the rink.”

Ilya sat, transfixed, as a young man hopped the boards, Scott Hunter bringing him into the center of the ice before kissing him.

Scott Hunter had just come out, in front of the entire world, after winning the cup. Scott Hunter had done what Ilya and Shane were too scared to do, and he did it in front of the entire world.

And if he could do it, then what the hell was Ilya doing staying in Boston when he could be with Shane? What was Ilya doing holding out on admitting how he felt to Shane?

Svetlana seemed to read something in his expression and smiled, handing him his phone. “Go get him.”

Ilya took it, rushing into the hallway as he dialed.

~~

Shane was still staring at the TV in disbelief, Scott Hunter’s grinning face filling the screen as he embraced who Shane could only assume was his friend, when his phone rang. Shane pulled it out of his pocket, stiffening when he saw Lily flashing across the screen.

He rose to his feet, moving into the hallway as he answered.

“What the…” he started to say before Ilya cut him off.

“I am coming to the cottage.”

Shane froze, hope filling his heart.

“I-Are you sure?”

“I am sure, Shane.”

Shane grinned into the phone.

“Okay. Good. Let me know when you book your flight. And send me your flight information.”

“Why?”

Shane rolled his eyes at his phone. “So I can pick you up from the airport, obviously.”

“I do not need you to pick me up.”

How the fuck else are you going to get to my cottage?”

“Rental car? Uber? There are options.”

“Ilya Gregorovich Rozanov–”

“So intimidating. Did you have to Google my middle name?”

Shane acted as though he hadn’t spoken. “I am picking you up from the airport. Send me your goddamn flight information.”

Ilya sighed. “You are very pushy. Did anyone ever tell you that?”

Shane grinned into the phone. “Actually, no. I usually just get called boring by some asshole I know.”

“That sounds like very smart man. Perhaps you should listen to him.”

“I’d listen to him a lot more if he sent me his flight information.

Ilya groaned. “You are very stubborn, do you know that?”

“Yes, it’s one of my more redeeming qualities.”

“…very well. I will send you flights when I book them. Now I have to go and pack. Goodbye, Hollander.”

The line went dead, Shane still smiling to himself as he went back to the couch.

His mom gave him a look. “You seem pretty happy for the Admirals winning.”

Shane tried to brush it off. “I mean, if it couldn’t be the Metros, I’m glad it was the Admirals,” he paused, glancing at his parents out of the corner of his eye. “And what Scott did was pretty brave. I’m proud of him.”

His mom nodded. “What he did took guts. And who knows? Maybe he’ll inspire other people.”

Shane looked down, fiddling with his glass of water. “Yeah. Maybe.”

He picked up his phone again, shooting off a text to Scott.

Shane: Hey Scott. That was a brave thing you did. I admire you for being so open about who you are and who you love.

He read the text over before sending it, part of his heart aching. Scott being so open about who he loved just reminded Shane that he could never be. Even if he and Ilya were willing to try being together, they would be on different teams, forced to be rivals. They wouldn’t be able to have their moment in the sun like Scott could with the man he loved, no matter how much Shane might hope otherwise.

Chapter 8:

Shane parked in the passenger lot of the Ottawa airport a week later, texting Ilya what kind of car to look out for. With some time to kill, he pulled out his phone and started scrolling. He paused on the Metro’s group chat. He usually kept it muted in the off-season, but perhaps now was as good a time as any to get caught up on what everyone’s summer plans were.”

He opened the chat, freezing at a message.

Comeau: I can’t believe the MLH is going to let him play.

Pike: Don’t be an ass. Being gay isn’t against the MLH rules, and Hunter just won the Cup.

Drapeau: Yeah, but since when do we give awards to fairies instead of real players?

Wait… what?

Shane scrolled up, finding the beginning of the conversation.

Drapeau: Are you guys seeing this shit?

Mitka: Don’t be jealous that the admirals won, dude.

JJ: Drapeau means the guy Scott Hunter is bringing onto the ice.

Mitka: OH SHIT.

Pike: Oh. Wow. Did not see that coming.

Drapeau: I can’t believe the admirals have a fucking fairy as captain.

Shane’s blood ran cold.

JJ: WHOA

Mitka: Are you serious dude?

Comeau: It’s not like he’s wrong, guys.

Drapeau: I wonder if this was why Hollander kicked his ass that one time. Did Hunter hit on him on the ice?

Shane froze. Was this what people were going to think of him? That he was homophobic? It wasn’t like he could clear the air and say what the fight was about. Not when it would put Ilya in danger.

JJ: No way would Shane hit someone for that.

Pike: Are we all remembering the same fight? Shane just shoved him and yelled that he was 45.

Drapeau: then why isn’t our captain saying anything?

Pike: He had a concussion, you know how strict he is about staying off his phone while he’s recovering.

Drapeau: okay, fine. Getting back to the point: Are we supposed to play against the Admirals as if nothing happened?

Pike: Why would Scott Hutton’s coming out keep us from playing against the Admirals?

Comeau: Drapeau’s right. How are we supposed to play against this guy? I’m always going to be wondering if he likes getting slammed into the boards a little too much.

Dillon: I doubt that’s what Hunter is thinking about on the ice. He’s an amazing player.

Comeau: Why don’t you go suck his dick if you like him so much?

Pike: Comeau. Knock it off.

Comeau: Kiss my ass, Pike.

Drapeau: I’m just glad we don’t have one of them in our locker room. I’d never be able to shower in peace again.

Shane closed the chat, his breath coming harder and faster.

He’d never seen this side of the team before. He knew the MLH wasn’t the most accepting place, that was why he hadn’t come out. He could only assume that was why Scott didn’t come out either. But he had no idea his team felt this way. He’d known them for years. He’d been to their kid’s birthday parties, and he was a groomsman in some of their weddings. How could he not have known that they felt like this?

At least it wasn’t all of them. Hayden, JJ, Mitka, Dillon… they hadn’t said anything bad. But the rest of the team, aside from Comeau and Drapeau, had stayed silent. Were they the exception or the rule when it came to the metros?

He wasn’t sure. And that terrified him more than he cared to admit.

And if they were willing to say all that shit about Scott Hunter, one of the greatest players in recent history…would they be better or worse if they found out about Shane?

Shane was jolted out of his thoughts by movement out of the corner of his eye. He spotted Ilya in his side mirror, strolling up to the car like a lion on the p[rowl. Shane tried not to let his jaw drop at the sight of Ilya in a sleeveless shirt, his biceps glowing in the midday sun. He popped the trunk, Ilya stowing his suitcase before making his way to the passenger door.

“Hey,” Shane said, suddenly nervous, as Ilya closed the door.

“Is this a Jeep?” Ilya looked around, nose wrinkled at Shane’s car.

Shane bristled. “No, it’s British.”

“Jeeps cannot be British?”

“No, they’re American.”

“So you have boring car for fun? You are millionaire hockey player with Rolex money. Why is your car so boring?”

Shane gave him a look. “It’s practical. Good in the snow.”

Ilya gave him a look before nodding. “ok.”

Shane took a deep breath, started the car, and backed out of the spot. Part of him kept eyeing the pedestrians around him, waiting for someone to realize two of the most popular MLH stars were in a car together and take a photo of them. But no one seemed to notice. And he felt his shoulders relax a little as they got out of the airport.

Shane cleared his throat, trying to keep from looking at Ilya. He couldn’t believe that he was here. That he could have Ilya for the next two weeks uninterrupted.

Part of him wished it could be longer, but he knew he had to be happy with what he had.

“Are you hungry?” Shane asked, glancing at Ilya. “It’s about a two-hour drive, but we can stop for something if you want.”

“No, I’m ok,” Ilya told him. “I ate something at the airport.”

Shane inwardly cringed at the idea of airport food, but he knew Ilya wasn’t as restrictive with his diet as Shane was.

Cool.” Shane was silent for a moment. “I think you’re going to like the cottage.”

“Oh, really? Why are you so sure?”

Shane flushed a little. “It’s, uh, relaxing.”

He spotted Ilya grinning out of the corner of his eye. “Ah, is that what we are going to do? Relax?”

“I hope so.” Shane shrugged, eyes on the road. “I would like to relax with you for once.”

Ilya nodded at that, and Shane kept talking, his nerves filling the silence in the car. “I bought groceries, so we don’t need to leave. Or not leave much. If we don’t want to.”

Ilya turned to look at him, eyes soft. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Shane paused at a red light and gave him a soft smile in return. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too, but…” Ilya snorted. “Also, like, terrified, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Shane chuckled at that, Ilya taking his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm.

“Did anyone recognize you?” Shane asked, a nervous energy thrumming through his limbs. “At the airport or anything?”

“No, no.” Ilya shook his head. “Not that I noticed.”

Shane didn’t know how it was possible for anyone not to notice Ilya when he walked through the room, but he should be grateful that not everyone was as obsessed with him as he was.

“Cool.” Shane nodded. “The cottage is super private, so we don’t need to worry about anything.”

“Not even your parents?”

“No,” Shane assured him. “I told them I was on a silent retreat, like a meditation thing.”

Ilya stared at him and burst out laughing.

“What? Does that sound fake?” Shane asked.

“Yes!” Ilya laughed, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye before leaning against the back of his seat, grinning at Shane. “Ah! “It would if it were anyone but you.”

“Because I’m so boring?” Shane snorted.

“Exactly. Is your sexiest quality to be sure.”

Shane took one hand off the steering wheel, blindly reaching for Ilya’s. Ilya grabbed his hand, interlacing their fingers.

Two weeks. He could have this for the next two weeks. He could have this time with him and pretend that they could be together. Who knew when they would get this chance again?

The rest of the drive passed quickly, the two of them talking about nothing in particular as they drove. Shane noticed Ilya’s lack of surprise when they reached the cottage, and he frowned in confusion. Most people had no problem reminding him that his cottage was actually a mansion. Even his mother pointed out that the term cottage was inaccurate. But Ilya just accepted it and moved on.

Shane parked the car, going to the trunk to get Ilya’s bag, only for the other man to beat him to it.

“Ilya, give me the suitcase.”

“No.”

Shane huffed out a breath of annoyance. “Ilya-”

“How are your ribs?”

“They’re fine, you know that. The doctor gave me the all clear last week.” Shane gave Ilya a pointed look. “I’m not the one with injured ribs right now. Or a sprained wrist.”

Ilya snorted. “The wrist healed weeks ago.”

“And the ribs?”

“Mine are just bruised. I played through playoffs on them.”

“A fact that is deeply concerning.” Shane made one last grab for the suitcase before Ilya twisted away from him.

Shan raised an eyebrow as the other man hissed at the movement, the Russian shooting him a dirty look.

“Not a word, Hollander.”

“Back to last names? How disappointing.” Shane went to open the door.

“I can’t believe you played with those bruised ribs.”

“Whoa, you can’t?” Ilya raised his eyebrows, Shane flushing under his gaze.

“ok, maybe I can.” Shane led Ilya into the main part of the house, glancing back to see Ilya’s expression.

“Wow!” Ilya looked around at the house. “Your real estate fetish really paid off, huh?”

“I didn’t buy this. I had it built.”

“Oh, I know.” Ilya looked around.

Shane frowned, wondering how he knew that before putting it out of his head.

“I can give you a tour, if you’d like, or I could make us some lunch.” Shane started to walk to the kitchen. “There’s plenty of food.”

“Hollander.”

“Also, I bought you Cokes, though the water here is really good. I have my own well. You can see it.” Shane turned around and found Ilya standing just inches away from him.

“In case you’re thirsty.” Shane finished, trailing off as Ilya smirked at him.

“There is only one thing I want.” Ilya pulled Shane into a kiss, his mouth moving against Shane’s with a frantic urgency. Shane moaned, winding his fingers into Ilya’s hair as the other man started to walk him back. The two of them crashed onto the couch, nearly knocking a lamp off a nearby table.

Shane pulled away from Ilya’s lips, the two of them laughing as they lay on the couch together. Ilya’s hand started to wander down Shane’s body, and Shane stopped him after a minute.

“Wait,” Shane flushed, looking away from Ilya. “It’s been a while, so I might not last long.”

“Yes, same, but we have two weeks.”

“Yeah, cool.” Shane nodded before pausing and looking back at Ilya. “Wait, same?”

Ilya nodded, and Shane frowned. “You said ‘same.’”

“I did.”

Shane sat up slightly, looking down at Ilya splayed against the couch cushions. “You haven’t been with anyone lately?”

“No.”

“Not since…” Shane didn’t want to remind Ilya that the last time was before Ilya’s father passed.

“No, not since, so can we…” Ilya made a motion with his hand, but Shane couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

“Really?”

Ilya sighed. “Hollander, it’s not a big deal, ok?”

“Yeah, but it’s been…” Shane started before Ilya cut him off.

“Months, yes, I know. So can we fuck now, please?”

“I haven’t either,” Shane told him. Not since the last time. He paused, an idea forming in his brain. “I have an idea.” Ilya looked at him, motioning for him to go on. “For the next two weeks, let’s just be honest with each other… about what we actually think and… maybe how we really feel?”

Ilya let out a low breath before giving Shane a nod. “I will try.”

“Really?” Shane grinned, unable to believe it.”

“Yes,” Ilya told him. “I will do anything if it will make you touch my dick right now.”

“Well, at least you have your priorities straight.” Shane kissed Ilya one more time, the other man groaning into the kiss.

“Should I show you to your room?” Shane asked, pulling away with a teasing look in his eyes. “There are two guest rooms downstairs, so plenty to choose from.”

“Mmm.” Ilya grinned, playing along. “I will need a king-size bed.

“They all have a king-size bed,” Shane told him.

“And a view.”

“They all have a view.” Shane rolled his eyes.

“And I will need a…What do you call it? An en-suite bedroom.”

“En suite bathroom,” Shane corrected him, and playfully frowned. “Well, that might be a problem.”

“Oh?” Ilya raised his eyebrows. “And why is that?”

“There’s only one with an en-suite,” Shane started to pull Ilya towards the stairs. “And it’s mine.”

In the back of his mind, he wondered how Ilya had known he had an en suite bathroom. Was it just a guess? If so, it was a really good one.

Shane pulled Ilya into his bedroom, the other man grinning as Shane turned to face him.

“This is awkward,” Shane said, adopting a formal tone and holding his hands behind his back. “This room isn’t available to the guests.”

“Mmm.” Ilya played along, stepping closer. “Disappointing.’

“I’m sorry, sir,” Shane said, raising his chin. “We’d really like to accommodate you, but…”

Before Shane could say anything else, Ilya pounced. He threw Shane onto the bed, climbing on top of him and pinning him by his wrists. Ilya’s knees landed on either side of Shane’s hips, Shane noticing how Ilya didn’t put any pressure on his chest.

“Sir, I’m just a bellboy!” Shane giggled, struggling to break free from Ilya’s grip on his wrists. “You can’t treat the staff like this.”

Ilya leaned, his voice dropping to a husky growl. “Oh, I think I know how the staff likes to be treated after all these years, hmm?” Shane saw Ilya grin before leaning in, their lips meeting. Shane moaned into the kiss, writhing in Ilya’s hold. He could have stayed in that moment for the rest of his life. And then he remembered something he forgot.

“Wait.” He broke away from Ilya’s lips, the other man confused as he let go of Shane. “Sorry, just let me–” Shane grabbed the remote for the automatic shutters. He stood up from the bed, pointed it at the windows, and watched the shutters descend.

“No, no, Shane.” Ilya moved towards him, rising from the bed and pulling Shane into another kiss before pulling away. He reached for the remote, Shane relinquishing it with a confused look. Ilya clicked the button, retracting the blinds before tossing the remote over his shoulder with a wink. He put his hands on Shane’s ribs, walking them backward until Shane’s back hit the glass. Shane had a flashback to the first time they kissed as Ilya stepped closer, his pupils so large that his eyes appeared almost black.

“Let me have you in the daylight.” He murmured, his hand coming up to grasp Shane’s chin, leaning in for another kiss.

~~

Shane stared at the contents of Ilya’s suitcase with a raised eyebrow, Ilya watching him with amusement.

They’d barely managed to get dressed, and Shane had decided that now was the perfect time to unpack Ilya’s suitcase. Ilya had told him he was fine with living out of it for two weeks, but Shane had stared at him like he had shot his puppy.

“How did you think this was enough clothes for two weeks?”

Ilya snorted, content to lie on the bed and watch Shaner unpack for him. “You have washing machine, no?”

Ilya, you brought like three days of clothes.” Shane rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky we wear a similar size. You can easily borrow some of my clothes.”

Ilya crawled across the bed, pulling Shane into his arms and making a kiss on his cheek. “Or we could just not wear clothes at all.”

Shane squirmed. “I’m not cooking naked. That sounds like an excellent way to get burned in uncomfortable places.”

Ilya pushed Shane onto the bed, climbing on top of him and pressing their lips together. Shane immediately responded, the two of them moving as one.

This was all Ilya had ever wanted for them. To be together, and get to exist without the rest of the world saying that they had to be enemies. In that moment, his heart was full, and his life was complete.

And then, when he pulled away from the kiss, their foreheads pressed together, he opened his mouth and ruined it.

“I love you. Marry me.”

He froze, Shane pulling back to look him in the eyes.

He didn’t mean to say that. He wanted it more than anything, but he did not mean to actually say it. Fuck, he had ruined everything. Shane would never want to be with him. What had he been thinking?

“Holy shit,” Shane said, Ilya starting to panic.

“I mean…”

“Yes. I’ll marry you.”

Ilya stared at Shane, the other man’s eyes shining in the dim light with unshed tears.

“You are serious?” He checked, Shane grinning in response. “You want to marry me?”

“I want everything with you.” Shane pressed his hand to Ilya’s heart, Ilya’s heart racing faster at the touch. “I love you, Ilya.”

Ilya pressed his lips to Shane’s again, the tension evaporating from his frame.

“Fuck, Hollander.” he collapsed onto Shane’s chest, feeling the other man press a kiss to his hair.

“Oh my God, I love you so much,” he heard Shane say as Ilya rested his head on the other man’s chest. “Does it…Does it fucking kill you too?”

“Not anymore,” Ilya mumbled into his chest. “I…I did not mean to say it like that.”

He felt Shane freeze. “You don’t want to marry me?”

“I do!” He shut up, looking into Shane’s eyes. “I do more than anything. But…” He struggled to find the words in English. “You deserve better than that. You deserve better than me.”

Shane’s eyes blazed with a fire he’d never seen before. “I decide what I deserve. I love you, Ilya Rozanov. I will always want you, no matter what. And it would be my honor to marry you.”

Ilya felt his face crumple as he fell back into Shane’s arms, the two of them silent for a long moment as they listened to the sounds of birds outside the window.

“How did we let this happen?” Shane said softly, Ilya knowing what he meant. This was just supposed to be a simple hookup that day in Toronto.

“We were both very stupid and irresponsible.” Ilya sighed, carding a hand thought Shane’s hair. “And maybe we both hoped that things could be different.”

“This is real, though, right?” Shane looked at him. “I’m not going to wake up and find that this had all been a dream?”

“This is real Hollander.” Ilya paused. “I do not know how we move forward from where, but I know we will do it together.”

“Together.” Shane sighed. “I like the sound of that.”

Ilya paused for a moment, snaking his hand down Shane’s chest. “And I liek the thought of making love to my fiancé. What do you think?”

He saw Shane grin. “I think I can get behind that idea.”

Ilya pulled Shane into a kiss, his hand already pushing down both of their pants. He kicked them off the bed, breaking away from the kiss long enough to peel off his shirt. He reached for Shane’s next, the other man laughing at his speed.

Shane grabbed the lube and was about to start opening himself up, not wanting to wait.

“Let me,” Ilya said, taking the lube from Shane and kissing him deeply as he slipped his first finger inside.

He felt Shane’s back arch as he used a second finger, the other man biting back a groan.

“So eager,” Ilya murmured, moving his lips to Shane’s neck.

“Don’t be a tease.” Shane groaned as Ilya sucked and bit at his neck, gasping when Ilya slipped a third finger in and scissored them.

“But you are so fun to tease.” Ilya chuckled as he ran his free hand down Shane’s side, somehow hitting all the areas Shane was sensitive.

After nearly ten years, he knew his fiancé’s body as well as he knew his own.

Ilya still couldn’t believe that Shane was his fiancé. He kept expecting to wake up in the hospital after the Boston game, the last few weeks, having been in a dream.

But it wasn’t a dream. This was real, and he was going to savor every moment.

Before long, Ilya could tell that Shane was ready for him.

Ilya reached for a condom before Shane stopped him.

“I’m clean,” he said, his cheeks flushing a deep red. “If you want, we can–”

Ilya cut him off with a kiss. “I want.”

Ilya lined his cock up and pressed in, Shane clenching around him. Ilya started to move after a moment, the pace slow as he teased Shane.

Shane reached for Ilya, but Ilya caught his hands and pinned them above his head.

“No, we are going to take our time with this,” Ilya said, cutting off Shane’s complaints with a harsh kiss as he sped up.

“Ilya, please.” Shane moaned as Ilya’s lips returned to Shane’s neck.

“Be patient.” Ilya punctuated each word with a nip to Shane’s collarbone.

He knew Shane was getting close, the tension in his frame building. He reached a hand down to tug at Shane’s cock as he sped up his pace.

Shane gave a strangled shout as he came, spilling all over his stomach.

With a final groan, Ilya finished and pulled out of Shane.

He collapsed on the bed next to him, the two of them just lying there for a minute.

Shane nudged him after a long moment, Ilya groaning.

“I do not want to clean up. You have killed me, Hollander. I am dead.”

“You’ll complain later when you’re all sticky.” Shane rolled his eyes, pulling Ilya to his feet.

“Youa re the worst fiancé.” Ilya grumbled, Shane laughing.

“Just keep telling yourself that, Rozanov.”

~~

“I’m glad you came,” Shane told Ilya as they lay in bed together after their shower.

“We both did, Hollander.”

Shane slapped his chest. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“But you love me being an asshole.”

Shane rolled his eyes, getting back on track. “I mean that I’m glad you came to the cottage instead of going back to Russia. Even if the proposal hadn’t happened, I would be happy that you were here.”

“I am glad too.” Ilya paused. “I was not going to go back to Russia. I sold my apartment there.”

Shane turned around to look at Ilya. “What?”

“When I was there for my father’s funeral, my brother and I fought.” Ilya shook his head. “Russia is not good place for me. I made my space with no going back.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Is okay, Hollander.” Ilya pressed a kiss to his cheekbone. “At least I have you.”

“Yeah.” Shane leaned into his touch. “I’m glad I have you, too.”

“And i am glad I am here too. I suppose I have Old Man Hunter to thank for that.

“Maybe you can thank him by not calling him ‘Old Man Hunter.’”

“I do not think I have the strength to do that.” Shane laughed, and Nadilya kept going. “Watching Scott Hunter have his moment on the ice…” Ilya trailed off for a moment, Shane enjoying the feeling of being held. “It made me hope that I could have the same with you one day.”

Shane started to smile, but then paused. “With you kissing me on the ice after winning?”

“Of course.”

Shane twisted his head and narrowed his eyes. “So in this scenario, you just beat me for the Cup?”

“Da.”

“Why couldn’t I be the one to beat you?”

“Because is my fantasy, Hollander.”

Shane snorted, turning back around.

“There’s only one problem.”

“Oh?”

“I’m not going to be in the mood to kiss you if I just lost the Cup to you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Shane felt Ilya’s arms tighten around him, one of his hands wandering down his chest.

“You do not think you would be proud of me?” Ilya’s voice dropped to a sinful purr, nipping at Shane’s neck between words.”

Shane resisted the urge to bury his face into his pillow. “No.”

He felt Ilya smile against his skin. “Really, Hollander?” He nipped again, harder, as one of his hands lightly grazed Shane’s cock. “You would be bad sport? How disappointing.”

Shane bit back a moan, his body coming alive under Ilya’s touch. He tried to move his arms, but Ilya’s grip kept them pinned to his sides. He writhed in his lover’s iron grip, Ilya’s light touches tormenting him. “Maybe I could-I could be a little bit of a good sport.”

Ilya gasped into Shane’s ear, one hand plucking at Shane’s nipple as the other firmly grasped his cock. “You would do that? For me? Hollander, you make me blush.”

Shane growled, jerking his head in frustration at Ilya’s torturous touches. “I’ll do a lot more than that if you don’t-”

“Hush, Hollander.” Ilya’s hands began to move, a new purpose to his actions. “Let me take care of you.” His voice dropped even lower, the growl going straight to Shane’s cock. “It would be the sportsmanlike thing to do, no?”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Yes, but I am your asshole. Do not forget.”

Chapter 9:

The next morning, Ilya woke before Shane. He watched the other man’s face in the dim morning light, marveling at how peaceful he looked. Shane looked surprisingly young when he wasn’t carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

After a moment, he slipped out of bed. Making his way out of the house, he ended up sitting on a rock overlooking the lake as the sun came up. Moscow was seven hours ahead. Sveta was probably awake.

“Ilyusha?” She picked up immediately. “Are you okay?”

“I asked Jane to marry me.” He said, jumping right into it.

He heard her let out a sound of surprise. “Wow. I’d say you jumped right in, but we both know it’s been years at this point.”

Ilya let out a laugh, remembering the first time that she had caught him texting Shane. They had been supposed to meet after the Montreal game, but the snowstorm had canceled all flights.

“I did not mean to ask; it just slipped out.” He paused, realizing how that sounded.” I am not sad that I asked, though. I want to be with Jane.”

“So, what is the problem?”

“Who said there’s a problem?”

He could practically hear her roll her eyes. “You would not have called me at dawn in Ottawa if you were not worried about something.”

“Who said I was in Ottawa?”

Ilyusha, it took me all of two minutes to figure out who Jane was. Give me some credit.”

That should have filled Ilya with panic, but he knew his secret was safe with her. And with Marley, whom he still had not told Shane about.

Ilya sighed, cutting to the chase. “What if I am not a good husband?” his voice was small. “It isn’t like I’ve had much in the way of good role models in that department. My father was terrible, and my brother ignores his wife and child to get high.”

“You are not either of them.” Sveta’s voice was soft. “You are going to be a good husband because you are a good person. You love Jane. You would not do anything that could hurt

them.”

“But what if that is not enough?”

“Then the two of you will work through it together, the way all couples do. And you will work through it.”

“Okay,” he finally said after a long moment. “Thank you.”

“Of course. And Ilyusha? If you do not invite me to the wedding, I will hunt you for sport.”

Ilya let out a laugh. “Of course you will be invited. I need my family by my side.”

“And I will be happy to support you.”

She hung up after that, and Ilya was alone once more

Ilya sighed. Her words helped, but part of him still worried. He stayed there for a while, staring at the sun rising over the lake, before a light touch to his shoulder jolted him out of his reverie.

Shane stood next to the boulder with two cups of coffee and a blanket draped around his shoulders.

“I saw you out here and figured I’d join you,” he said by way of explanation. He handed Ilya one of the cups, climbing onto the rock and draping the blanket around both of them.

“I was talking to Svetlana,” Ilya told him, biting his lip and coming out with it. “She knows about us. I did not tell her, but she is smart. She figured it out.”

He felt Shane stiffen for a moment before answering. “Oh. And you trust her?”

“I do.” Ilya decided to be honest. “And Marleau figured it out after the hit during the last game. But he won’t say anything, I’m sure of that.” He let out a breath. “I am sorry, I know you wanted it kept secret.”

Shane seemed tense, but he gave Ilya a small smile. “It’s okay, Ilya.”

Ilya blinked. “It is?”

“We’re engaged,” Shane pointed out. “Eventually we’re going to get married. I want us to tell people eventually.”

Ilya relaxed. “I guess that’s true.”

Shane leaned his head against Ilya’s shoulder. “I don’t want to hide you. One day, I want everyone to know how happy I am.”

Ilya smiled, taking a sip of his coffee as he and Shane watched the sun rise over the water.

It was perhaps the most perfect morning he had had in years.

~~

After breakfast, Ilya sat in front of Shane with his laptop.

“Hollander.”

“Is that my laptop?”

“Is not important, but yes.”

“It feels a little important.”

“Is not.”

“How did you get onto it? It had a password.”

“Your password is Metros24. Is not exactly rocket science. Also, is terrible password. You should change it. Now, can we talk about something?”

“Yes?”

“We are engaged now.”

“I know, I was there.”

Ilya rolled his eyes. “Yes, but now we need rings. We cannot be engaged without rings.”

Shane leaned forward, reaching for Ilya’s hand. “Mon cœur. We can’t wear engagement rings.”

“Why not?”

Shane tried to think of the best way to phrase this. “Because we aren’t out, and if we have engagement rings on our left hands?” he gave a small shrug. “People will figure it out. Maybe not that we’re together, but they’d figure out something.”

Ilya furrowed his brow. “Why would we wear rings on our left hands?”

Shane stared at him. “Because engagement rings are always worn on the left hand.”

Ilya snorted. “This must be Western tradition.”

“Actually, the belief comes from ancient Rome. They thought there was a vein that went straight from the ring finger to the heart. It was meant to be romantic.”

“Why do you know this off top of your head?”

“Who do you think helped Hayden pick out Jackie’s ring?”

“You helped him pick that ring? Is probably the only reason why it looks nice.”

“How the fuck do you know what Jackie’s ring looks like?”

“I saw it at MLH event once.” Ilya brushed him off. The point is that the ring was very elegant, you clearly had a hand in the decision. I bet if Pike had picked it himself, it would have been an emerald cut solitaire diamond. Boring and ugly.”

Shane looked away, Ilya crowing in triumph. “Was I right? Is that what Pike would have picked?”

“Fuck off.”

“Hm. But see? Stupid Western tradition. Russia is much more simple with this. We wear rings on the right hand for honor and virtue. The right hand is correct hand.”

“What if you’re left-handed?”

Ilya stared before throwing up his hands. “What does that matter, Hollander? The point is, if Western culture says left hand, we can wear rings on the right hand. Or on a chain when we play. So, we look at rings now?”

Shane knew there were more reasons why they shouldn’t. All it would take was one person who knew about Russian wedding ring tradition to figure out that Ilya was engaged. But he also knew that he had spent nearly ten years pretending that he didn’t want the man in front of him, and he wasn’t willing to do that any longer.

“Okay.”

Ilya started to grin. “Yes? We can look for rings?”

“Yeah, I mean, it shouldn’t be that hard. We could pick up gold bands from any jewelry store–”

Ilya cut him off with a groan. “I knew you would be boring about this, Hollander. Plain bands? We will not have rings you could get at Walmart–”

“No one said we’d get the rings from Walmart!”

Ilya kept speaking as if he didn’t hear Shane. “Where is your sense of romance? Of whimsy? A ring should be important, and say something about person wearing it. No, you will have a ring that you cannot get at mall.” Ilya patted the couch next to him. “Come and sit. We look together.”

Shane obediently moved to sit next to Ilya. “I didn’t even know you could buy engagement rings over the internet.”

Ilya snorted, giving him a look. “You can buy everything over the internet. Even sex toys.” Shane’s cheeks flamed, and Ilya raised his eyebrows. “Maybe we look at that later, da?”

“Fuck you.”

“No, I fuck you after we pick rings. Consider it incentive.”

Shane rolled his eyes and settled in. “What website are we looking at?”

“I found this one.” Ilya moved the laptop so that it’s sitting in front of both of them. “The rings look unique.”

“Okay, are there any other Russian wedding ring traditions?” Shane asked.

Ilya shrugged. “I’ve only ever seen plain gold bands or three interlocking bands. And even if they are on the other hand, plain gold bands would be…” he thought for a second. “Red flag.”

“I guess that makes sense. And you don’t just want to do three interlocking bands?”

Ilya looked away for a moment. “If I were marrying Svetlana, I probably would.” Shane frowned at that, but Ilya kept speaking. “But…there is not much left for me in Russia. My father

is dead, my brother is…difficult. I do not want to be stuck in the past. I want to be in the future with you.”

Shane leaned his head on Ilyas’s shoulder. “That’s very sweet.”

“Yes, I am adorable. Now, we pick engagement rings so I prove I am best at this too.”

“Who says you’re going to pick the best one?”

Ilya gave Shane a look. “Lyubimiy moy. I will obviously pick best one. You are cute to think so, though. Wrong, but cute. Like Scott Hunter winning the Stanley Cup.”

“You have to let that go.”

“You’re right. After all, who knows how many more good years the dinosaur has in him?”

“He’s not that old!”

“His first date was to watch the pyramids get built.”

“Shane shoved Ilya. “Shut up and let me pick your engagement ring.”

“Fine. You are right. There is nothing less sexy than talking about old man Hunter when picking out rings.”

“Picking out rings is not asexy activity, Ilya.”

“Have you seen us? Everything is a sexy activity when we do it, Hollander.”

Shane grabbed the laptop and ignored Ilya, scrolling through the various options. All the rings on the site had interesting inlays: meteorite, koa wood, dinosaur inlay, stag bone. He could see why Ilya had chosen this device: the rings were unique. If he didn’t know any better, he would assume any man wearing a ring from this site on their right hand was just wearing a ring for fashion, not for engagement. This was the perfect way to hide in plain sight. But how was he supposed to pick the perfect ring for Ilya on this site? There were too many options.

“Do you give up, Hollander?”

Ilya leaned in, his breath hitting Shane’s ear. “There is no harm in admitting defeat. Not everyone can be good at everything.”

Shane elbowed him. “No. I’ve got this.”

As he scrolled, he realized that he did indeed have this. He had known Ilya for nearly a decade. Apart from Svetlana, whom Shane tried not to think about, he was perhaps the person who knew Ilya best. Ilya had given up so much for Shane. The last he could do was pick out a ring for the man he loved.

And just as he was searching, he found it. Inlays of meteorite and dinosaur bone, the ring was

yellow gold with a single yellow colored sone in the top band.

“Okay, I think I have it.” Shane showed the screen to Ilya, scanning his face for a reaction.

Ilya looked and nodded once, his face giving nothing away. “Good. Why this one?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you pick it because it looked nice, or was there purpose behind it?”

Shane scoffed. “What is this, a test?”

“Yes.” Ilya’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “I want to see how well my fiancé knows me.”

Shane sighed. “I mean…it does look nice. The gold reminds me of your hair. But I guess if I had to decipher why this was the ring for you…” Shane paused to collect his thoughts.

“The ring has meteorite and dinosaur bone. The dinosaur bone matches you because

your past is set in stone, but you are not defined by it. You are more than what your past has made you. And the meteorite? You’re leaving Russia to forge your own path, and neither of us knows how the next few years are going to go. But the one thing you know for sure is that we are going to get through this together. Because the only thing I know for sure is that I want to spend every moment I can with you by my side.”

Shane looked at Ilya when he finished, surprised to find the other man wiping his eyes.

“Hollander, that was beautiful. If your vows are half as nice, I will be lucky man.” Ilya smirked. “Even if you came up with that on the spot.”

Fuck you, I did not!”

“You clearly did. Is okay. Because even if you did not consciously think of it when you picked the ring, all of that was already in your head. And that means everything.” Ilya paused. “But when we eventually get married, do us both a favor and prepare your vows ahead of time, da?”

Shane shoved him. Fuck off.”

“Hm, maybe later.”

Shane rolled his eyes and leaned into him. “And as an added bonus, the dinosaur bone is a similar color to my eyes. So even though we can’t be together right now, you’ll always have a little piece of me with you.”

Ilya grinned. “I like that. Now move. I pick for you now.”

“So romantic.” Shane handed Ilya the laptop. “I think I’m falling in love with you all over again.”

“I know, I am catch. Now let me focus. I am not losing.”

“Ilya, you can’t lose at picking engagement rings; this is not a competition.”

“Of course, this is competition. And I will win, because I am best at everything.”

“You are not the best at everything.”

Yes, I am Hollander.”

“I broke your record at the All-Star Game during our rookie season.”

“Beginner’s luck.”

“I’m sorry, which of us has more Stanley Cups?”

“That was fluke. I will lead Raiders to the cup next year, and then i will do it again. Because I am the best hockey player in the world.”

“You’re not even the best hockey player in this house.”

Ilya put a hand over Shane’s mouth. “Do not insult your fiancé, Hollander. Now let me pick your ring. My honor is on the line.”

Shane rolled his eyes, moving Ilya’s hand. “Fine.”

Ilya tapped on the keys for a moment, his brow furrowed. Shane wanted to kiss the wrinkle from his brow, but knew Ilya would not appreciate Shane distracting him.

“Done,” Ilya announced.

Shane scoffed. “No, you are not.”

“Yes. I have picked your ring.”

“You’ve been looking for five minutes!”

“I do not need more time to do good job.”

“That is such bullshit.” Shane narrowed his eyes. “Were you looking at rings before now?”

Ilya’s eyes widened, and he tried to look innocent. “No, of course not.”

Shane rolled his eyes. “You are such a cheater.”

“I thought you said this was not competition. So how could I cheat?”

Shane let out an annoyed huff when he realized Ilya had a point. “Fine. So, let me see the ring.”

“Maybe I do not want to show it now. Maybe it should be surprise.”

“I showed you yours! Now show me mine.”

“Dirty, Hollander! I am impressed.” Ilya shrugged. “But fine. I will show you.”

Ilya flipped the computer around, and Shane’s breath caught in his throat. Ilya picked a ring with two meteorite inlays. They were bracketing a band of blue stone with small flecks

of gold. It was the most beautiful ring he had ever seen, and he wanted it on his finger at that moment.

So, uh, what made you pick this one for me?” Shane asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

“Ilya shrugged. “Is blue for Metros.”

Shane stared at him. “That’s your answer? After all that crap you gave me about symbolism?”

Ilya took one look at Shane’s indignant face and burst out laughing.

“Oh, fuck you, asshole.”

Shane started to get off the couch, but Ilya wrapped his arms around his waist before he could move.

“Hollander, schast’ye moyo.” Ilya easily lifted Shane onto his lap, his arms around him like a vise. “Let me tell you real reason.

Shane huffed, settling in. “I’m listening.”

“Okay, so I like what you said about the meteorite. I think is true for you as well: you have had this plan for your whole life, and now you are stepping off it with me. We are both on a new course.” Ilya paused. “And the blue stone is Lapis Lazuli. There is entire room in the Hermitage in Russia made with this stone. My mother took me there before she died on a trip without my father and brother. Her mother had taken her to see the same museum when she had been my age, and she wanted to continue family tradition.” Shane reached for Ilya’s hand as he kept speaking. “Is a very important stone, the Egyptians used it too. It symbolizes intellect, truth, and inner power. All three things I associate with you.” Ilya grabbed Shane’s chin, turning him to face him. “And I like that it is blue because, like with you and the dinosaur bone being brown, you get to carry a little piece of me with you as well.”

Shane leaned in and kissed Ilya softly, pulling away after a heartbeat. “You definitely cheated and looked up rings earlier, didn’t you?” Ilya shrugged. “Prove it.”

“I could check the history on my laptop.”

“You could, or we could place the order and go upstairs so I can fuck my pretty fiancé who is going to have a pretty ring with fancy inlays.”

“Your ring had inlays too!”

“Yes, but mine is not pretty like yours is.”

Shane laughed, thinking of something. “Can I get something engraved on the inside of my ring?”

Ilya shrugged. “Da. What do you want?”

“1410.”

Ilya looked at Shane, confused. “Why do you want random number inside your engagement ring?”

“It’s not random.” Shane insisted. “It’s the number of the hotel room I was in for the CCM shoot before our rookie season.”

A slow smile spread across Ilya’s face. “You remember room number after all these years?”

“Of course I do.”

“Good.” Ilya smacked a kiss on Shane’s cheek. “I do too. That’s why I will get 1221 on the inside of my ring.”

Shane grinned as they placed the order. They had to quickly pause to measure each other’s fingers with a string, but soon enough, their rings would be on their way to them courtesy of expedited shipping.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to take mine off,” Shane told Ilya.

“That is why we also get a chain for your ring,” Ilya reminded him. “So even when we have to take them off for games, we still have them.”

Shane smiled at that and then smirked. “So, is there a special place to get the chain from? Or is that okay to get at any jewelry store?”

“Hollander–”

“I just don’t want to offend you with my pretty ring being on a chain from Walmart.”

Ilya stood up suddenly, picking up Shane and throwing him over his shoulder.

“Ilya! Put me down.” Shane felt Ilya smack his ass and barely kept in a yelp.

“Not until we get to the bedroom.”

~~

“Okay, but seriously.” Ilya turned to Shane as they laid in bed together after sex. “How did you not know you could order sex toys online? You have a dildo.”

Shane’s cheeks turned red. “I am not having this discussion with you.”

“Come on, Hollander. Married couples should not have secrets.” Ilya rolled on top of him, pinning Shane to the bed. “Tell me.”

“Fine.” Shane was sure his cheeks were bright red at this point. “I bought it at a store when I was a teenager, before the draft.”

“Makes sense.” Ilya nodded. “I did not think you were exciting enough to look up sex things on the internet.”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“No, no, is okay.” Ilya leaned in, brushing his nose against Shane’s as his voice lowered. “I can introduce you to all sorts of fun things now.”

Shane knew that the grin on Ilya’s face should have terrified him, but for some reason it didn’t.

“Like what?” he found himself asking, tilting his head just a little to expose his throat.

Ilya shifted, collecting Shane’s wrists in one hand while the free hand came down to graze the side of Shane’s face.

“Like, for example, something to hold down your wrists so I can take my time with you,” Ilya said, his eyes dark.

“Like what? Fuzzy handcuffs?” Shane meant to laugh, but instead his voice came out breathy as he looked up at his fiancé.

“No, no.” Ilya shook his head. “Nothing so cheap for you. But some leather cuffs would hold you fast without risking damage to your perfect skin the way rope would.” Ilya’s hand moved to Shane’s mouth, his thumb pressing on the center of Shane’s bottom lip. “Or maybe something to keep your perfect mouth occupied while I took my time with the rest of you.”

Shane’s eyes widened at the thought of Ilya silencing him, occupying his mouth while cuffs held him fast, unable to do anything but lie there and take whatever Ilya was willing to give

him. The loss of control should have seemed horrifying to him. Instead, something about it seemed…intriguing.

Ilya’s hand left his face entirely, moving to grab his cock. “Or maybe something to keep you hard for as long as I wanted, so I could have all the time in the world to play with you.”

Shane moaned, leaning into his touch. His arms flexed, his wrists pushing against Ilya’s hand.

“Do you want that?” Ilya asked, a teasing smirk on his face. “Are you interested in me showing you just how much I want you?”

Shane nodded, his need for Ilya overwhelming him.

~~

Shane was whistling as he cooked the burgers for dinner the next day, grinning in the sunlight. He always enjoyed coming out to his cottage, his little piece of paradise. But there was something about this trip that was completely different for him. And that something was inside, grabbing the drinks and plates.

He’d happily called his cottage his fortress of solitude, a place where he could just be alone with himself, and way from all the expectations other people had for him. But for the first time, he found that having company wasn’t a bad thing. He and Ilya finally understood each other, and they were happy. And nothing would be able to take away from that.

“Why are you making so many burgers?” Ilya asked, coming up behind him.

Shane frowned, looking at the grill in front of him. “The recipe was for eight, so…”

Ilya stepped closer, gesturing at the grill. “ok, you cut it in half. What, you can’t do math?”

Shane scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Leave me alone.”

Ilya stepped closer, his arms bracketing Shane as they wound around his waist. Ilya pressed a kiss to Shane’s neck where his skin met his shirt, resting his chin on Shane’s shoulder.

“No,” he growled, Shane, trying not to react to his fiancé’s voice.

“Oh, so I’m stuck with you now?” Shane turned, catching a glimpse of Ilya out of the corner of his eye.

“Yes, is like Beyoncé said. You liked it, and you put a ring on it.”

“Technically I haven’t put a ring on it yet.”

Ilya scoffed. “You ordered one, is same thing. Now you are never getting rid of me.”

Shane grinned, turning his head to press a kiss to the corner of Ilya’s mouth. “Fine by me.”

Ilya turned to Shane, kissing him deeply.

“Stop, or I’ll burn the burgers.” Shane pulled away, glancing back at the grill.

“Good, then we will finally have the right amount of burgers.”

“Fuck you, I didn’t make that many extra!”

~~

“ok, fine. I should have cut it in half.” Shane admitted, looking at the four extra burgers once they finished eating.

“Told you so.”

“No one likes a know-it-all, Ilya.”

“I like you very much, and you are often know-it-all.”

Shane rolled his eyes at Ilya. “I guess we have leftovers for later.”

“Is no problem.” Ilya winked at Shane. “I’m sure I can think of many things we can do to burn the calories.”

Shane felt his cheeks go red, and he coughed, shifting in his seat. “Well, ordinarily, I would give the rest to my parents, but that would probably ruin my whole silent retreat lie, I guess.”

“Yuna and David, yes?” Ilya asked, Shane mildly surprised that Ilya knew their names.

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded, Ilya giving him a look.

“And?”

He gave Ilya a confused look. “And what?”

Ilya groaned. “Tell me about them.”

Shane laughed, putting down the burger. “What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know.” Ilya shrugged. “I don’t know anything about them. Well, except that your mother is Japanese or something.” He brought a hand up to the side of Shane’s face, brushing a thumb over Shane’s cheekbone as the other man leaned into his touch. “Probably where you get your looks.”

Shane blushed, leaning into Ilya’s touch. “Half of them, yeah.”

Ilya moved his hand away, Shane mourning the loss of contact. “And your dad is, what, boring?” his eyes glimmered with amusement. “Is that where you get your boring from?”

“He’s not boring,” Shane said with a laugh.

“So, he’s exciting, reading the New Yorker?” Ilya raised an eyebrow.

“He’s normal, ok? He works for the Treasury Board of Canada.”

“Crazy!”

Shane lightly shoved Ilya. “Fuck you! He played hockey for McGill.”

“Whoa.” Ilya paused, holding out a hand. “McGill?” Shane rolled his eyes as Ilya laughed. “What the fuck is McGill? Is McGill a town?”

“It’s a really good school.”

“Ah, did he ever think of going pro?”

“No, he didn’t want to.” Shane smiled softly. “He met my mom there, and that was that. My parents are so great together.”

“Do they know?” Ilya asked,

“About you? Of course not.”

Ilya rolled his eyes. “No, about you.”

“Oh.” Shane flushed, looking down at his hands. “No. I never told them.”

“Would they not be good about it?”

Shane shrugged. “I don’t know,” he realized that came out wrong. “I mean, no, they’d be fine. I’m sure they would be, but…” he sighed. “I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it. Sometimes, I think I would have told them already.”

Ilya gave him a look. “Oh, this is my fault.”

“No.” Shane rushed to say, wincing. “Well, I mean, yeah, kind of.”

Ilya sighed, shifting closer. “I think you could have told your parents you were gay without giving

them a list of all the guys you were fucking.” He looked away for a moment. “I mean, what is your plan here? To not tell them you’re engaged?”

“Of course not.” Shane bit his lip. “I was going to tell them after our time at the cottage is

over…because I also need to discuss with them whether or not I should leave Montreal.”

Ilya stared at Shane. “What?”

Shane sighed. “I don’t know how your team reacted to Scott Hunter coming out–”

“They didn’t really care.”

“-But my team handled it badly.” Shane shook his head, unlocking his phone and pulling up the team group chat. He handed it to Ilya. “I don’t want to be in the closet for my entire career, not anymore. And I don’t think they’d react any better if I came out. In fact, I think they’d take it even worse.”

Ilya’s face darkened as he read, finally looking up from the phone screen. “You think they’d come after you if you came out?”

“I don’t think they’d attack me if that’s what you mean, but I’m pretty sure they would make it clear how they felt.” Shane let out a sigh. “It’s just something I’ve been thinking of.”

“But you love Montreal.”

“I do.” Shane leaned into Ilya, moving closer to him. “I thought I’d retire as a Metro and hang my jersey in the Bell Center rafters. But if it’s between living a lie with them and being my true self somewhere else?” Shane shook his head. “There is no question what I would pick.”

Ilya pressed his head against Shane’s. “I do not deserve you.”

“Yes, you do. And you deserve not to be hidden. I promise I am telling my parents about you soon.”

“Thank you.”

The two of them sat there for a moment longer before Shane got up to bring their dishes inside.

~~

Shane focused, his tongue between his teeth as he stacked the logs exactly as his dad had taught him.

“Hollander, what are you doing? Are you so bored that you have to play with sticks? You have a TV and a PlayStation for crying out loud.” Ilya came up behind him, and Shane rolled his eyes.

“I’m not playing with sticks, I’m building a fire.”

Ilya stared at him, moving to stand in front of Shane. “A what?”

“A fire.” Shane gave Ilya a look. “You know what fire is, right? It’s that thing that lights your cigarettes? That you should really stop smoking, by the way. I would rather not have my husband die of lung cancer.”

“Yes, very funny, Hollander.” Ilya rolled his eyes. “Why are you building fire? And for the record, I would not die of lung cancer. I am way too stubborn, and I would not want to leave you a rich widow.”

“I’m already rich, I don’t need your money to make me a rich widower.”

Ilya gave him a look. “You are getting off topic. Why are you building fire?”

“I’m building a fire because it’s what you do. You build fires at night in the summer.”

“Summer is hot, why the fuck would you want to build a fire?”

“It’s fun! It’s a nice thing to do outdoors. Haven’t you ever been camping?”

Ilya stared at him.

“Hollander, I know you were in Russia only the one time, but it is cold. And my family was not one for the outdoors.”

Shane grinned. “Then we definitely have to do this.”

“Do we really?”

“Yes! It’s all a part of being in the great outdoors.”

Ilya groaned. “Why am I getting married to an outdoorsman? I thought I was getting a fancy Rolex landlord.”

“I have layers.”

Ilya nodded. “Like an onion.”

Shane stared at him. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“You have layers, like an onion. Like ogre in that kids movie.”

Shane shook his head. “I’m going to ignore the fact that you just compared me to Shrek. Let me build the fire in peace. I promise: you’re going to have fun.”

~~

“Nice, right?” Shane grinned, Ilya giving him a look.

Ilya cocked his head and looked at the fire. “So we just sit here and look at it?”

“Yes. We just sit here and look at it.” Shane paused. “And I have smores stuff for later if we want it.”

Wow, you are willing to break your diet? Impressive.”

“It’s the summer, I can go a little crazy.”

Ilya snorted. “Yes, chocolate and marshmallow is crazy. And Canada is fun.”

“Shut up!” Shane shoved him, and Ilya snorted.

Shane’s phone went off, and he glanced down for a second. He looked back up to see Ilya staring at his phone as though it had mortally offended him.

“It was just Rose.” He said, and Ilya rolled his eyes.

“Mmm.” his eyes glinted in the campfire. “Just Rose?”

“She’s just checking in.” Shane waved it off and Ilya snorted.

“I’m sure. There must be so much to check on in the Canadian wilderness.

Shane frowned before realizing what was wrong with Ilya.

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

Ilya looked at the fire, not making eye contact. “No.”

Shane rolled his eyes. “Ilya, I’m gay.

“I know that. Does she?”

“I don’t know, but we’re just friends.”

Ilya frowned at him. “We were just friends, and now we’re engaged.”

Shane gave him a look.

“Ilya, I’ve only had a few relationships with women, and none of them ever ended well.

“What do you mean by none of them ending well?

“I mean, I’ve had sex with maybe three girls in my entire life, and all of them were complete disasters.

“Oh, disasters like how?” Ilya raised an eyebrow, and Shane flushed.

“I’m not going into details.”

Just then, a loon call sounded across the lake, and Ilya jolted away from Shane.

“What the fuck was that?” Ilya’s eyes scanned the trees, and Shane gave him a confused look.

“A loon?”

Ilya looked at Shane, eyes wide. “A what?”

“A loon.”

“What the fuck is a loon?”

“It’s a Canadian bird.”

Ilya turned back to the water. “It sounds like a fucking wolf.”

“It’s a bird, trust me,” Shane told him, Ilya not looking like he believed him. Another loon call sounded, and Ilya flinched, his eyes not leaving the trees.

“You’re so scared.” Shane tried to pull Ilya into his arms, Ilya’s frame tight with tension.

“What kind of a bird makes a noise like that?” Ilya argued.

“A loon!” Shane lost the battle in laughing, a giggle leaving his throat. “You thought it was a fucking wolf?”

Ilya rolled his eyes. “Stupid Canadian wolf bird.”

Shane laughed before deciding to do something to protect his fiancé from the scary, scary Canadian wolf bird.

Remembering what his dad taught him about bird calls, Shane brought his hands to his lips and warbled out a tremolo. With any luck, the loons in the area would get the warning he sent out and stay away.

And in the meantime, Shane got to deal with his fiancé staring at him as though he had grown a second head.

“Oh, so now you speak bird, too.”

“Fluent.” Shane grinned, and

Ilya snorted, turning back to the fire.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Well, I am definitely teaching you Russian now.”

“Oh, really?”

“If you can speak bird, you can speak Russian.”

“Are you saying bird is easier than Russian?” Shane raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean you’ll let me teach you bird?”

“Fuck you, Hollander.”

“Maybe later.” Shane pulled

Ilya close. “Right now, let’s just enjoy the fire.”

~~

As the fire died, Ilya found himself lying on the bench, his head in Shane’s lap. He’d never let anyone other than Svetlana see him as vulnerable at this. Then again, Shane saw him in ways Svetlana did not. Shane’s hands were gently raking through his hair, and Ilya was resisting the urge to purr like a cat.

“Have you talked to your brother lately?” Shane asked after a long moment of silence, his voice soft in the forest’s stillness.

“Mm-mmm.” Ilya shook his head, not moving from his position. Not even his stupid brother could ruin this moment.

“Is that a good thing?” Shane asked.

“Probably, I don’t know.” Ilya sighed. “I’ve always assumed no news was good news when it came to Alexei. He hasn’t hit me up for money at least.”

Shane stroked his hair again, fingers skimming over his forehead. “I’m sorry about your family. Even if they suck, you must miss them.”

Ilya took a deep breath. He’d never thought of telling Shane any of this. But if he was going to build a life with Shane, if he was going to let himself love him, then he should be able to trust him with this.

“My mother didn’t suck,” he finally said, nearly forcing the words out. “She was great.”

“How did she die?” Shane asked quietly, and Ilya curled into Shane’s lap.

“By accident,” he paused for a long moment. “She accidentally swallowed a whole bottle of pills.”

He waited for Shane to ask what happened, to ask about what had led her to that point. He waited for Shane to ask one of the thousands of questions he knew his lover must have had. But instead–

“How old were you?”

Ilya sighed, tension leaving his frame that he didn’t even know what was present before then. “Twelve. I found her.” He felt tears welling at the corners of his eyes. “I don’t want you to think she was weak.”

“I don’t,” Shane assured him.

“She wasn’t.” Ilya kept speaking, his voice breaking ever so slightly. ‘She was so funny and beautiful,” he sighed. “She was so sad. And my dad was so hard on her. And…” A loon call cut him off, Ilya jolting. “That motherfucker!”

He felt Shane suppress a laugh, his hands going back to Ilya’s hair. “Do you want to go inside?”

Ilya shook his head, pressing a kiss to Shane’s cloth-covered leg. “No. I just want you.”

Shane’s hand paused for a moment before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Ilya’s temple. “That’s all I want, too.”

Chapter 10:

“You can’t pick Montreal.” Shane glared at Ilya.

“Yes, I can.” Ilya rolled his eyes at his fiancé. “I’ve always wondered what it

would be like to be a Metro.” he gave Shane a slight smirk. “You know, historically, they’re the best team in sport.”

“Better than the fucking Yankees.”

“Oh, I know so.” Ilya secretly loved how passionate Shane got about Montreal.

“Well, I’m going to be Boston.” Shane decided.

“Good choice.”

Shane shoved him lightly. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Ilya gave him a look. “I am you, Hollander.”

“Well, you’re not anything.” Shane pointed out, and Ilya gave him a dirty look.

Ilya picked up the CD case and held it up to his face. “I’m on the cover of the fucking game.”

Shane laughed at that and then paused, his phone vibrating in his pocket.

“Hollander, ignore them. Let’s just play.”

“Oh, fuck.” Shane groaned when he saw who was calling him. “It’s Hayden.”

“So? Tell him you are on silent retreat and call him back.”

Shane gave Ilya a look. “He just had a baby. I haven’t talked to him in weeks.”

Ilya groaned and dropped the controller. “So you plan to ignore your fiancée to talk to Montreal’s fifteenth best player?”

“Don’t be a baby.” Shane rolled his eyes as he picked up the phone. “Hey, buddy.”

Ilya flopped onto the couch cushions as Shane started to talk to his boring friend. Shane was supposed to be all his for the next two weeks. Why was he having to share him with fucking Pike?

He sat upright again, a devious thought entering his mind. He slowly started inching his hand up Shane’s leg, his fingers skimming his thigh. Shane looked up from the phone call and frowned, slapping his hand away. Ilya reared back, stunned for a moment, before deciding to redouble his efforts. This time, he managed to skim Shane’s crotch before Shane pushed his hand away, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Ilya leaned in closer, his breath hitting the side of Shane’s face as he made contact with Shane’s cock through his clothes. Shane’s hand grabbed Ilya’s wrist, but he didn’t push him away. Ilya knew that he wouldn’t. His Shane wanted his touch as much as Ilya wanted to touch him. He heard Shane’s breath hitch, and he smirked.

“Uh, sorry, hey, just, um, my mom’s on the other line.” Shane made an excuse to pike, and Ilya fought the urge to snicker. “I’m just going to get rid of her, ok?”

Shane put pike on hold, taking the phone away from his ear and glaring at Ilya.

“What are you doing?” he chased, and Ilya looked at him.

“I think you know.” Ilya kept lightly touching Shane, and his breath hitched again.

“Please stop.”

Ilya leaned in closer. “I don’t think it’s what you want.”

“Later, ok?” Shane tried to bargain, and Ilya knew he had him right where he wanted him.

“ok, I make you a deal.” Ilya shifted back slightly, moving his hand. He resisted the urge to grin at how Shane’s hips bucked slightly, wanting to follow his hand as it moved away. “I won’t touch you, but if you get hard…”

“I won’t get hard.” Shane cut him off.

“ok, so no problem then.”

“Ilya…” Shane gave him a look, and Ilya returned it.

“Shane…”

Shane rolled his eyes and took Pike off hold, and Ilya knew the game had begun. Shane sat on the back of the couch, Ilya’s head now on the same level as his hips. Ilya had such a smart fiancé. He just made the game so much easier for Ilya to win.

“Uh, sorry, man, yeah, my mom is so annoying sometimes.” Shane glared at Ilya, who gave Shane an innocent smile as he leaned his head on Shane’s knee. He pressed a kiss to the side of Shane’s knee, smirking against the skin as Shane’s leg twitched. He started to gently stroke the side of Shane’s thigh with his hand, smirking as he saw Shane growing hard. His responsive little kotik needed no coaxing to respond to his ministrations.

Ilya straightened up, Shane still talking on the phone. He mimed pointing town and gave Shane a big thumbs up

“Got it, right, yeah, from Thanksgiving,” Shane said into the phone, rolling his eyes at Ilya’s pantomiming.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s… he’s great,” Shane said into the phone, shifting in his seat as Ilya reached into his pants and took out his cock.

If Shane wanted to stop, Ilya would have in a heartbeat. But Shane had given him an inch, and Ilya was going to run with it.

Ilya took Shane into his mouth, his fiancé jumping slightly as Ilya licked a stripe down his cock. He gently tongued at the slit, Shane’s breath hitching as Ilya continued to move.

“Uh…” he heard Shane pause, his breath hitching as he tried to maintain composure. Well, that’s nice that he could come and stay.” he could hear Shane bite back a soft moan as Ilya redoubled his efforts.

“Uh, no, nothing much here.” Ilya could tell that Shane was biting his lip to hold back a groan. “The headaches are better. Fuck.” Shane froze, and Ilya heard his voice get higher as he spoke to Hayden. “No, sorry, just a text.”

Ilya rolled his eyes, his hand coming up to slap at Shane’s chest. The other man’s breathing grew heavier and heavier, Ilya sensing he was close.

“Yeah, it’s totally clear, so all’s well there. Sorry, hey, one second.” He heard Shane put his phone on mute before Shane thrusted into his mouth with a loud moan.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck!”

It took only another second before Shane found his release, spilling down Ilya’s throat. Ilya pulled off him, watching with a satisfied smirk as Shane pulled himself back together.

Shane glared at him, picking up his phone and taking Hayden off mute.

“Ah. Sorry, man, I just… I have to run,” Shane said, out of breath. “Someone’s at the door.”

Ilya tried to hold back his laugh, Shane glaring at him as he put a foot on Ilya’s chest to hold him in place. Ilya just grinned from where he was pinned to the couch, unrepentant. “No, it’s just… It’s just Amazon. But, um, I’ll call you next week, and… yeah.” Shane paused. “All right, yes, love you, man. And give my best to Jackie and the kids.”

Shane hung up the phone, tossing it to the side as he pounced on Ilya.

“fuck you, fuck you.” Shane couldn’t help but laugh, and Ilya joined him. “Fuck. Why was that so hot?”

“Because you like to be bad.” Ilya winked, pulling Shane close.

“Hey.” Shane held up a hand, stopping Ilya in his tracks. “That’s not what this is. You and me. Maybe it was at first, but not now and not for a long time.”

Ilya put a hand up to cradle Shane’s face, watching the other man lean into his touch.

“So, you love Hayden?” Ilya asked with a raised eyebrow, Shane rolling his eyes.

~~

That night, Shane lay on the couch while scrolling on his phone. Ilya mirrored him, their feet touching in the middle of the couch.

“So I was thinking I’m a free agent next season,” Ilya said, as if starting a conversation about the weather.

Shane froze, a faint thread of hope working through him.

“Yeah?” He asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

“Yeah.” Ilya didn’t look up from his phone, but Shane could tell he was waiting for his reaction.

“You wouldn’t re-sign with Boston?”

Ilya shrugged. “They are not a bad team, but I wonder if they would be so kind towards me if they knew I was in love with you.”

Shane felt his cheeks go red. “So, if you didn’t sign with Boston…where would you go?”

“I don’t know, I was thinking maybe a Canadian team.” Ilya looked up, raising his eyebrow.

“Not Montreal, huh?” Shane said teasingly.

“No, I mean, I know they would be lucky to have me.” Shane rolled his eyes as Ilya spoke. “But I would love to not have Russian passport.”

Shane frowned. “Ilya, you know you’d become a citizen when we get married, right?”

Ilya snorted. “Hollander, it took us seven years to get engaged. I have no hope of us getting married for at least five.” Shane kicked at him as Ilya snorted. “And besides, with how things are with America, and how things are back home?” He shook his head. “I do not want to risk having Russian passport for any longer than necessary.”

Shane nodded, cringing at the thought of the American president.

Ilya was silent for a moment before speaking once more in a tone that was almost too casual.

“I suppose that if I were staying in Boston, I could have married Svetlana.”

Shane looked up, glaring at his idiot fiancé as he kept speaking as though he was discussing a grocery delivery. “She’s American, so it would be easy citizenship. And she would do it. Her father was the Russian goalie Sergei Vitrov.”

“Yeah, you’ve told me.” Shane bit out, seeing Ilya smirk.

“She would help me. If I were staying in Boston.”

“But you’re not. So it doesn’t matter.”

Ilya gave him a smug look. “DO not be jealous Hollander, I am speaking in hypotheticals.”

Shane sighed, resigning himself to playing along and not throttling Ilya. “Is Svetlana someone you’d want to marry?”

Ilya shrugged. “We are friends. We would have been fine.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “But…”

Shane rolled his eyes. “But what?”

“I have this problem.” Ilya paused, Shane giving him a look.

“What’s the problem?”

“I like women, yes?” Ilya asked, and Shane frowned, trying to ignore the jealousy coiling in his gut.

“Yeah, I know.” Shane finally managed to say.

“And everywhere I go, I’m surrounded by beautiful women,” Ilya said, Shane contemplating strangling him with every word that came out of his mouth. “And they love me.”

“Yeah, that sounds rough.” Shane could barely keep the sarcasm out of his voice, and Ilya frowned at him.

“Yes, it is. Listen.” Shane rolled his eyes but paid attention. And these women, they’re so sexy and fun.” Ilya let out a low breath, resting his chin on his hand. “But I am always thinking about this slow fucking hockey player with beautiful freckles.” Shane started to blush. “And a weak backhand.”

“A weak backhand?” Shane scoffed, eyebrows raised.

“Yes, very weak.” Ilya let out a breath. “And he’s so boring, and he drives this terrible car.”

“It’s a normal car!”

Ilya ignored him, his gaze softening as he looked at Shane. “I am always wishing that these women were him,” he let out a small laugh. “It’s a terrible problem, huh?”

Shane swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving Ilya. “Do you want that problem to go away?”

“Mm-mmm.” Ilya shook his head, a small smile on his face. “I don’t ever want that problem to ever go away.”

Shane grinned. “Good,” he picked up his book, glancing at Ilya over the top of the page. “Because you’re stuck with me.”

He saw Ilya grin as he looked at his phone, the two of them spending their evening in companionable silence.

~~

Even after Ilya curled into him and went to sleep that night. Shane’s mind kept going. He had to figure out a way forward for both of them. There had to be a team that could afford Ilya in Canada, and one that could handle Shane if things got bad and he had to leave Montreal.

And then it hit him. His home team, the Ottawa Centaurs.

They hadn’t even gotten close to the playoffs in over a decade, but they desperately needed star centers. What if one of them went to Ottawa and then the other joined later? Shane could not stop thinking about the way he and Ilya had played at the All-Star Game this year. It had been magic on the ice. If they could do that again, in an actual game? No other team would stand a chance.

Unable to wait until the morning, Shane turned on the lamp and jostled Ilya awake.

“I have another idea,” he said as Ilya’s eyes blinked open.

“What idea? What is happening?” Ilya mumbled as he woke up, but Shane didn’t notice. His mind was moving faster than it had since the concussion.

“What if you played in Ottawa?” Shane asked, Ilya frowning.

“Ottawa is the same division as Boston,” he shook his head. “We’re still rivals.”

“ok, but listen,” Shane nudged Ilya to sit up. “First off, we aren’t even sure I’m staying in Montreal. So if I don’t, then maybe we both move to Ottawa.”

“Or you could move to Boston.”

Shane paused, considering. “I wouldn’t be against that, but Boston is close to their salary cap. It would take a miracle for them to afford both of us. That’s why Ottawa is perfect. It’s a Canadian team like you wanted, and it’s super close by. We wouldn’t even need to buy another place unless you wanted one, because we could just live here at the cottage!” Shane took a breath, running his hands through his hair. “Second, Ottawa needs a star center, and they’re nowhere near their cap, so they could definitely afford you.” he paused. “Maybe even us. And I could play wing, or you could. We saw it work in the All-Star Game! And maybe we could start to change the narrative a bit.”

Ilya looked at him as though his hair was on fire. “Hollander, I just woke up. What is narrative?”

“We can change the story with us! We can make our own story now.” Shane leaned forward. “Boston and Montreal? That’s intense, everyone knows that.”

“No shit.”

Shane gave him a look. “But Montreal and Ottawa? That’s not a rivalry.”

“Yeah, because Ottawa sucks.”

“Not with you on the team!” Shane reminded him. “And look, lots of guys have

friends on other teams. Why not us?” he ran a hand through his hair. “We’re not rookies anymore. There are younger guys coming in, frothing at the mouth. Let them hate each other. We don’t need to keep this up until we retire, do we? We’re not fucking wrestlers.”

“Hollander, Hollander, ok, it’s very late.” Ilya blinked at him. “And this is so many words. What are you getting at?”

“You play for Ottawa,” Shane told him. “We play on the same team. And then we start a charity. Something that, you know, we both care about.” Shane ran a hand through his hair. “And we come up with a story, like I approached you.”

“Or I approached you.”

Shane gave Ilya a look. “Fine, sure,” he moved closer to Ilya. “And we tell

the press and everyone that, by working on this cause that we both love, we developed a mutual respect for one another and, um…”

“And we like sucking each other’s dicks.” Ilya finished for him, smirking. “Any questions?

Shane shoved him. “Fuck off. This is a good idea, Rozanov.”

“ok, ok!” Ilya held up his hands. “It’s not bad. So we start the charity. What would it be for?”

“I don’t know. We could figure out something that means a lot to both of us,” Shane told him. “And then if people saw us out in public or whatever, it wouldn’t be so fucking crazy.” Shane looked at Ilya, his eyes soft. “And then…we can be together. For real.”

He saw Ilya swallow, his eyes almost black in the darkness. “You really think that far ahead, Hollander?”

“I do when it’s important.” He took Ilya’s hand. “And this is. You are.”

Ilya pulled him into a kiss, pressing their foreheads together. “You are important to me, too.”

~~

The next morning, Shane looked over at Ilya as they lay in bed together.

“What was your mother’s name?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Irina,” Ilya answered, turning to face him. “Why?”

“I had an idea for our charity.” Shane took a deep breath. “I was thinking we could start a hockey school.” Ilya raised an eyebrow, and Shane elaborated. “Like a summer camp for kids. And give the money away to mental health organizations. Like suicide prevention.” Ilya stayed silent, and Shane started to look away. “It was just an idea.”

Ilya put a hand up to Shane’s face, thumb swiping across his cheekbone. Shane leaned into the touch, Ilya’s eyes soft in the morning light.

“She would have loved you,” Ilya said softly, his hand still on Shane’s cheek. “Like I love you.”

Shane grinned. “Say it again in Russian, please.”

Ilya leaned in closer, their faces inches apart. “Ya tebya lyublyu.”

Shane closed the distance, pressing his lips to Ilya’s.

~~

Ilya ran to the door the next afternoon, Shane raising an eyebrow as he came with two boxes.

“What is all that?”

Ilya picked up the smaller box and opened it with one of Shane’s kitchen knives. “Our rings are here.”

Shane’s eyes widened, eagerly making his way over to the counter. “I thought they’d take longer to arrive.”

“I paid extra for quick service.” Ilya took out the two ring boxes, opened them, and placed them on the counter.

Shane had never seen such beautiful rings in his entire life. The pictures on the website barely did them justice.

“And now it is official,” Ilya grinned, Shane giving him a look.

“It was official before, Ilya.”

“No, but now is extra official. We have rings to prove it.”

“True.” Shane gave him a fond smile. “I guess we’d better put these on.” Shane reached for his ring, only for Ilya to slap his hand away. Shane frowned and slapped Ilya’s hand in response, only for Ilya to give him an offended look.

“What was that for?”

Now it was Shane’s turn to give him a look. “What do you mean? You slapped my hand first.”

Ilya sighed. “Shane, you helped Hayden pick out a ring for his wife. You should know this.”

“Know what?”

“Is bad luck for you to put on your own engagement ring for the first time.”

Shane scoffed. “That’s not a thing.”

“It is a thing,” Ilya disagreed. “You would not want to be unlucky, right?”

Shane frowned at him but agreed. “Okay, let’s do it.” Shane reached for the ring he picked out for Ilya, and he held Ilya’s hand in his other hand. He slowly slid the ring onto Ilya’s finger, pleased to find out it was a perfect fit.

Then it was Ilya’s turn. He reached for Shane’s hand, his thumb sweeping over the back of it in a gentle semicircle. Shane felt his breath catch in his chest at the intensity in Ilya’s eyes. It was as if Ilya was seeing into the depths of his very soul. He felt the ring slowly settle at the base of his finger, and then Ilya let go of his hand.

Shane wished he hadn’t and that they could have just stayed in that moment forever.

“So what’s in the other box?” Shane asked as Ilya dropped his hand.

Ilya grinned, an impish look in his eyes. “Did you forget what else we talked about?”

Shane flushed as he realized what he meant. “So all of those are–”

“Yes.”

“Wow.” Shane gulped. “That’s a big box.”

“Not so big.” Ilya placed a hand where Shane’s shoulder met his neck, squeezing slightly. “Just a few things I thought we might try. But if you do not like, I throw them out.”

Shane let out a breath. “Okay. Let me see what you bought.”

Ilya moved away from Shane and cut open the box with the knife on the counter. He pulled out two wrapped packages, Shane feeling his pulse tick up just by staring at them.

Ilya unwrapped the first, revealing a set of four black leather cuffs with gold hardware.

“I looked up the ones with the best comfort rating,” Ilya explained, seeing the way Shane looked at them. “I wanted them to feel soft against your skin.”

Shane raised an eyebrow at him. “And I’m guessing you also wanted to make sure they came in your team’s colors?”

Ilya rolled his eyes. “What did you expect, Hollander, for me to tie you up in Metros colors? No, could not happen.” he leaned in, dropping his voice. “But maybe if you ever want to return the favor, we can get a set in Metros blue.”

Shane’s mouth went dry at the thought of Ilya spread out for him, held down so Shane could take his time with his gorgeous body.

He blinked, looking at the other package on the counter. “What’s in that box?”

Ilya picked it up, turning it over in his hands as he stepped closer to Shane.

“I noticed that you like to have something in your mouth.” Ilya unwrapped the package, his eyes dark as they met Shane’s. “I thought you might like something to occupy your mouth while I take your time with you.”

Shane’s flush deepened as he saw Ilya raise a black ball attached to two leather straps. He knew what it was before Ilya even said anything.

“Um, how would I-if something went wrong-” Shane asked before Ilya cut him off.

“Do not worry.” He put down the gag and put his hands on either side of Shane’s face.

You can snap your fingers, yes?” Shane nodded, and Ilya smiled. “Good. then we do snaps. You snap once for good, twice to slow down, and three times to end it. And ,I will watch carefully for any signs of distress,” he stroked his thumb over Shane’s cheekbone. “Do not worry, Hollander. I will not let anything happen to you. And we do not have to do anything.”

“I think…” Shane swallowed hard. “I think i’d like to try something.”

Ilya grinned.” Good.” He put down the box, pulling Shane over to the couch. “Let’s talk about what to expect.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean is good to discuss limits and what you are and are not willing to have happen. Is important whenever power dynamics come into play.”

Shane let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is that really necessary? We’ve never talked about this kind of thing before.”

“We’ve never done anything like this before.” Ilya pointed out. “Well, except maybe in Vegas, but that was not really the same.”

Shane’s blood ran cold, remembering that night after Ilya won MVP. If that was what Shane could expect from this, that terrible feeling afterward? Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. “Okay, but–”

“Look, why don’t we take break?” Ilya suggested, Shane quietly relieved. “We can go for swim and discuss this after dinner, da?”

Shane sighed and nodded, wondering how he was going to get out of this.

~~

Later that evening, Ilya made sure not to forget to have that discussion with Shane. The other man huffed as Ilya met him on the couch after dinner, causing him to frown. Shane had seemed excited earlier in the day. What could have changed?

“Shane, if you do not want to do this–”

“I do!” Shane said quickly, Ilya not buying it. “I just don’t see the need to talk about it.”

“Shane, is important that we talk through everything. I do not want you to drop.”

Shane furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

Ilya cocked his head as he tried to think of how to explain it. “Sometimes when the sex is intense and you do not take enough time to come back down, the endorphins can cause you to drop. You get shaky, cold, everything out of focus. Is not good. I would not want you to go through that.”

Something in Shane’s expression shifted, and Ilya felt a pit grow in his gut.

“What is wrong?”

“Nothing.” Shane shrugged it off, but Ilya knew better.

“Hollander.”

Shane paused for a moment and sighed. “I don’t want to make this a whole thing. I just….I didn’t know that was what subdrop felt like.”

The pit continued to grow. “Are you saying you’ve felt that before? When with me?”

Shane looked away, and Ilya had his answer.

“Shane.” He thought back over the years, of when things had gotten intense for them. Of when he could have possibly sent Shane into a drop without realizing.

And then it hit him, his heart dropping to his stomach. “It was in Vegas. After I won MVP.”

It had to be. Shane had become so hesitant after he’d mentioned Vegas that morning. That had to be when it happened.

Fuck. He knew that things had been strange that night, that he had been distant with Shane, but how the fuck had he let this happen? How did he let Shane leave his room that night without noticing that he was hurting?

“Ilya.” Shane moved closer, taking him into his arms. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should have taken care of you—“

We were so young.” Shane reminded him. “And it wasn’t so bad. I was feeling better by the morning.”

Ilya closed his eyes in relief, grateful that Shane had not suffered too much from his negligence.

“Okay, okay.” Ilya scrubbed a hand over his face. “Now talking about what we want to do is even more important. I want you to have a good time, not drop again.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Shane paused. “So, what do you want from me?”

Ilya shook his head, laughing slightly. “You have it all wrong Shane. It is me who should ask that of you. All I want from you is for you to enjoy yourself. You have been so tense for so long. I think you might enjoy letting go and letting someone else take care of you.”

Shane’s breath hitched, and Ilya could see his lips part. “That…that sounds nice.”

Ilya motioned for Shane to sit, the other man following. “So, what are you comfortable with?” Ilya moved closer to him, putting a hand on his fiancé’s knee.

Shane didn’t seem to know where to start, and Ilya took pity on him. “Do you want me to bind your wrists and ankles? Tie you to the bed so you can do nothing but lie back and take what I do to you?”

Shane jolted slightly. “Y-yes. I’d like that.”

“Okay. Then we do that.” Ilya moved on. “What about the gag?”

Shane flushed. “I always thought you liked the noises I made.”

“Oh, solnyshko, I do,” Ilya assured him. “But I wonder if you might like not to have to worry about what to say. With a gag, you could just let the sensations wash over you. And it would not silence you completely. I would never do that to you.” Ilya lowered his voice, giving Shane a conspiratorial look. “Because I do like the sounds you make. The gag would more…simplify them than eliminate them.”

Ilya watched as Shane swallowed hard. “Yes, I-I’d like that.”

“Good.” Shane’s cheek darkened at the praise and Ilya filed that away for later.

“Would-” Shane cut himself off for a moment before deciding to keep going. “Would I not be able to touch you the whole time?”

Ilya shook his head. “I do not plan to start this in the bedroom.” One of Ilya’s hands went down to Shane’s wrist, encircling it and holding it fast. “I thought we could start here, on the couch. I’d bind your hands in front of you, so you could touch me and get used to the sensation. Is better than just jumping in, yes?”

“Definitely.” Shane’s expression seemed to relax for a moment. “And…you would still kiss me? Even after my mouth was…occupied? And you wouldn’t leave me alone?”

Ilya’s heart broke at the hesitant questions. “Of course, my Shane.” He pulled Shane in for a hug, kissing his brow. “I will happily kiss you everywhere I can. And I will never leave you alone, not even for a second. I’ll make sure the materials I need for aftercare are in the room with us, so I do not even have to leave to for a moment.”

“And how would I be able to let you know if-if you did something that I didn’t like? Or if I wanted to stop?”

“We can use the traffic light system to check in. You can tell me green if you want to keep going, yellow if you want to slow down, or red if you want to stop. And when you’re unable to speak, you can snap your fingers once to green, twice for yellow, and three times for red. I will check in often, do not worry.”

Shane was silent for a moment after pulling away from Ilya’s embrace, and then he gave Ilya a small smile. “Okay. I want to try then.”

“You do?”

Shane reached for Ilya’s hand. “Yes. I trust you.”

In that moment, with Shane looking at him like he hung the world, Ilya made a promise to himself that he would never again betray Shane’s trust.

~~

Shane sat on the couch, hands clasped in front of him.

Ilya had vanished into the bedroom with some of the items he’d bought, and Shane could not stop thinking about what was going to happen.

If someone had told him after the MLH awards in 2014 that he would willingly let Ilya take control of him, he would have laughed in their faces. Or blushed like a fire engine. Or both.

But he was not the same Shane Hollander who had left Ilya’s penthouse feeling like his world was ending. And Ilya was not the same man who had kicked him out in the middle of the night.

Shane trusted him. And he wanted to do this. The end of the season had been rough in more ways than he had ever expected, and Shane needed this. He needed to not have to worry about anything. To not have to be the perfect golden boy of hockey, who always had to stay in control and almost never made a mistake. And Ilya could give him that.

Ilya came back into the room, holding the wrist cuffs in his hands. Shane’s pulse jumped seeing them, his heart starting to race.

“Are you ready to begin?” Ilya asked, his voice low.

Shane nodded, and Ilya shook his head. “I need to hear you say it, moy lubov.”

Shane took a deep breath, looking up at Ilya. “Green.”

Ilya gave him a proud smile, and Shane resisted the urge to duck his head.

“Stand up and take off your shirt,” Ilya told him, his eyes darkening.

Shane resisted the urge to snap to attention, instead slowly rising to his feet.

He pulled his shirt off, resisting the urge to cover himself as he folded it and placed it on the coffee table.

“Give me your hands.”

Shane offered his wrists, and Ilya fastened the cuff around his left wrist, then his right. The cuffs felt soft against his skin, their weight reminding Shane of their presence.

Ilya checked the fit of the cuffs, looking at Shane. “How do they feel?”

“They feel good.” Shane swallowed hard. “Different.”

Ilya nodded at that, using the clips on the underside of the cuffs to connect them.

“Let’s go back to the couch.” Ilya hooked a finger around where the cuffs connected, pulling Shane back to the couch. Shane let out a low breath, his hands falling in his lap. He pulled at the cuffs, testing the way they held fast. He couldn’t move his hands more than a few inches away from each other. Shane was surprised at how much he liked that.

“Now what?” Shane asked, trying not to fidget as Ilya leaned against one of the arms of the couch, looking at Shane.

“I thought I might like to suck you off.” Ilya shrugged. “Or you suck me off. Or both.”

Shane’s mouth went dry.

“Um, both work for me.” Shane started to move towards Ilya, the other man seeming completely relaxed.

“Good. Color?”

Shane felt heat rise to his face. “Green.”

“Excellent.” Shane reached from the waistband of Ilya’s sweats, the other man stretched out like a king on a throne.

He fumbled with pulling out Ilya’s cock, his hands not used to being stuck together like this. He ducked his head, hollowing his cheeks as he took Ilya’s cock into his mouth. He heard Ilya groan, one of his hands coming to pull at Shane’s hair. Shane closed his eyes, taking Ilya deeper into his mouth as the other man swore.

“Fuck Hollander, your mouth.”

Shane grinned, redoubling his efforts as he listened to his fiancé fall apart. Before long, Ilya was coming with a shout, Shane swallowing his release before pulling off of him.

Ilya lay back on the couch cushions, panting as if he’d run a mile.

“Had enough?” Shane smirked as Ilya’s eyes darkened.

“Not at all, Hollander. Lay back on the cushions. Is my turn.”

Shane stretched out, Ilya putting his cock away before crawling across the couch to Shane. Shane saw his engagement ring dangling from the chain around his neck, a flare of possessiveness taking hold.

This was his fiancé. No one else would ever see him like this, and there was a part of Shane that absolutely loved that idea.

Ilya reached for the waistband of Shane’s shorts, Shane lifting his hips to give him more access. He watched as Ilya took off his shorts and underwear, part of Shane grinning at the sight of Ilya carefully folding them and setting them on the table.

“Color, kotik.” Ilya commanded as he closed a hand around Shane’s cock.

“Green,” Shane told him, groaning at the sensation of Ilya’s hand. “So unbelievably green.”

“Good boy.” Ilya lowered his head, Shane biting back a curse as he felt his fiancé’s mouth around his cock. Shane reached his hands down, winding them into Ilya’s hair and pulling at the curls.

He moaned as he felt Ilya work, barely able to keep his hips still. Ilya’s hands moved to either side of his hips, pinning him against the couch.

He felt Ilya’s tongue trace the vein on the underside of his cock, and Shane was immediately close to coming. Ilya had a special way of bringing him to the edge in a matter of moments.

“Ilya, I’m close–” Shane warned, Ilya pulling off his cock and giving him a smirk.

“Then come for me,” Ilya swallowed him down, Shane coming with a scream.

Ilya pulled off of him, the other man capturing his lips in a heated kiss.

“And now the fun begins,” Ilya said, Shane shivering at the promise in his voice. “Put your arms around my neck.”

Shane did as he asked, yelping as Ilya picked him up with an arm under his knees and behind his shoulders. He carried Shane up the stairs to the bedroom, shane enjoying the feeling of being held by Ilya.

Ilya placed him on the bed, picking up the other pair of cuffs from the bedside table. Shane frowned as he spotted a small cooler on the table next to the gag and a bottle of lube.

“Can I put these on your ankles?” Ilya asked, holding up the cliffs. “I like the idea of you stretched out for me.”

“Green,” Shane told him, Ilya smiling as he fastened the cuffs around his ankles, Shane expected them to feel heavy, like the ankle weights he used to wear while running, but instead they were light enough that Shane might forget he was wearing them after a while.

“How are you going to tie me to the bed?” Shane asked, remembering something. “I think I would remember if my bed had attachments for restraints. It probably would have come up when I bought it.”

“I think ahead Hollander.” Ilya raised an eyebrow at him, holding up a black strap that seemed to go under the bed. “When I ordered the cuffs, I also bought attachment system that goes under the mattress. Easy to use, easy to remove.”

“Makes sense.”

Ilya chucked at that, moving closer. He gripped Shane’s chin with one hand, lifting it to meet his gaze.

“Can I tie you to the bed and have my way with you?” Ilya asked, raising an eyebrow. His free hand unfastened Shane’s hands from each other, Shane almost missing the restraint.

Shane swallowed hard. “Green.”

Ilya grinned and raised Shane’s hands above his head, cuffing them to the corners of the bed. The ankles followed, Shane stretched out on the bed. He tugged at each of the cuffs, his limbs barely able to do more than move an inch from where they were held fast.

He was helpless. Ilya could do whatever he wanted with him, as Shane would be unable to stop him. That should have scared him. It didn’t.

Ilya climbed back on top of Shane, running his hands up and down Shane’s arms.

“Look at you,” Ilya said almost to himself as he traced the curve of Shane’s muscles. “Laid out for me like a present.”

“All for you.” Shane tried to lean up to kiss Ilya, but the cuffs made him stop short.

“Shh. Just relax.” Ilya leaned down to kiss him.

Shane whined into the kiss when he realized he couldn’t do anything to deepen it.

He couldn’t do anything except lie there and take it.

He was completely at Ilya’s mercy. And he loved it

“Ilya, Ilya, please.” Shane gasped, desperation in his voice when Ilya finally pulled away from the kiss.

“Please, what?” Ilya asked, kissing down Shane’s throat. His lips were so close to Shane’s throat when he talked that it made Shane’s skin vibrate. “Use your words, daragoy.”

Shane blushed hard at the pet name and then had to struggle to remember what he was begging for in the first place.

“Please, make me come.” He begged, practically pleading with him. “I feel like I’m about to explode.”

“Not yet,” Ilya said before sucking a dark mark at the base of Shane’s neck. “I want to take my time with you. Be good for me.”

“I will Ilya. Please, please just touch me.” Shane wanted so badly to reach out and grab Ilya that it was killing him that he couldn’t.

“It sounds like you need something to fill your mouth.” Ilya shook his head at Shane with a wry smile.

Shane’s cock jumped at the idea, and a grin spread across Ilya’s face. Ilya reached for the gag on the nightstand, holding it to Shane’s lips.

Shane didn’t even have to think about it.

“Green.” He raised his chin, opening his mouth.

“You are perfect,” Ilya whispered, surging forward and kissing him.

Shane responded as best he could, not able to push forward as much as he’d like.

Ilya pulled away, holding the gag to Shane’s mouth again. Shane opened his mouth slowly, Ilya giving him a proud smile as he fastened the buckle behind Shane’s head. He placed both hands on Shane’s face, making the other man look at him.

“You remember your signals?” He asked, Shane nodding in response. “Tell me your color, solnyshko.”

Shane flushed at the pet name, snapping his fingers once. The sound echoed in the room, Ilya giving him a pleased grin.

“You are being so good for me.” Ilya tweaked Shane’s nipple again, smiling at Shane’s squeak in response. “I knew you would be.”

Shane wanted to respond that he wasn’t perfect, not at all.

But he couldn’t. Much like with the kiss, all he could do was lie there and take the praise Ilya was giving him. Which was probably the point, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love it

Ilya pressed a kiss behind Shane’s ear, working his hand into his hair and pulling his head back to give himself better access. Shane moaned at that, and Ilya chuckled lightly.

“I love how responsive you are. How you fall apart with a single touch from me.” He kissed his way down Shane’s throat until he got to his chest.

Ilya looked up at Shane, a wicked glint in his eyes as he drew one of Shane’s nipples into his mouth.

Shane jerked his hips, bucking them into the air as Ilya sucked on Shane’s nipple, lightly grabbing it with his teeth.

The bite of his teeth around his already tender flesh drove Shane crazy, and he knew Ilya could tell.

Just as Shane thought he was about to explode, Ilya pulled off of it and moved to the other one.

Shane threw his head back, practically whimpering into the pillow.

He wasn’t going to survive this. Shane finally got himself under control and turned back just in time to see Ilya abandoning his now puffy and red nipples.

Shane hoped that that was the end of that, but Ilya clearly had other ideas. He kissed down his stomach, occasionally sucking dark marks onto the flesh as he went.

Shane keened high in his throat as Ilya completely avoided his groin and instead kissed down his thighs.

He could feel the wetness on his cheeks from his tears.

“You are stunning. Your freckles drive me wild, and your eyes make me crazy.

He climbed back on top of Shane, now straddling his thighs. He pressed a small kiss to the scar on Shane’s chest from his chest tube, Shane shivering from the sensation. “And you are all mine. I am luckiest man alive.”

Before Shane could even try to respond, Ilya lightly grabbed his cock. Ilya started by first rolling a condom onto Shane, Shane keening high in his throat at every touch against his overly sensitive cock. Then Ilya made a show of slicking up his fingers with lube, Shane stiffening with anticipation as he rubbed one against Shane’s hole.

Shane whined as the first finger slipped in and then wanted to cry when a second was added.

Shane tried to relax and breathe through the burn of being opened up.

He howled when Ilya found his prostate, frantically tugging at his cuffs.

By the time Ilya started rolling a condom onto his own cock, Shane was up to four fingers, and he was desperate.

Shane felt more tears spring to his eyes as Ilya pushed in, the burn still there even after being opened up.

“Just relax.” Ilya ran a hand up to Shane’s face, cradling his cheek. “I’ve got you, solnyshko”

Shane nodded, finally relaxing when the burn shifted into a more pleasurable feeling.

Ilya must have read something in Shane’s face because he chose that moment to begin to move.

It was slow at first and then slowly built up speed until Shane was practically desperate to come.

“Does this feel as good to you as it does to me?” Ilya asked, his voice trailing off into a groan. “To belong to me, only me?”

Shane nodded, not even caring what Ilya was saying.

He just wanted this feeling between them to last forever.

“How long do you think you could last without coming?” Ilya asked, his voice bordering on a growl. “Maybe we test it out someday, see how much you can take before you beg for me.”

Shane moaned into the gag at the thought of spending another day at Ilya’s mercy, under his control.

Shane would do that in a heartbeat.

He never wanted to stop feeling this way.

After a few long moments, Ilya started to breathe heavier.

“Oh fuck, Hollander. I will not last long this time.”

Shane keened high in his throat, tossing his head back.

His frame was as tight as a drum, the pressure building with no release.

His hips stuttered once, twice, and then Ilya was coming with a long groan, almost collapsing onto Shane when he was done. Shane came right after, the tension leaving his frame in a rush of sensation.

After a long moment, Ilya pulled out and reached up to Shane’s head, unfastening the gag and uncuffing his wrists. He moved to uncuff Shane’s ankles, the other man curling into him.

Shane sighed as Ilya maneuvered his body, his head eventually resting on Ilya’s chest. He felt good, almost floaty. He’d felt good after sex with Ilya, but nothing like this. This was something else entirely.

Ilya moved slightly, reaching for the cooler Shane had seen earlier. He opened it, pulling out a can of ginger ale. He opened it with one hand, pressing it to Shane’s lips as he cradled him against his chest.

“Take sip, moy kotik.”

Shane did as he asked, the cool liquid flowing down his throat.

“How are you feeling, solnyshko?” Ilya asked, a concerned look in his eye as his free hand stroked Shane’s side.

“What does that mean?” Shane finally asked, his voice soft as he lay in Ilya’s arms.

“It means little sun.” Ilya told him, his voice soft. “Is common term of endearment in Russia.”

Shane smiled, clinging to Ilya’s side. “I like it.”

Ilya’s hand paused for a moment before continuing its motion. “I am glad.” Ilya held the can to Shane’s lips again, Shane taking another drink. Ilya then put down the can and reached into the cooler to grab a bar of chocolate. He broke off a piece and pressed it to Shane’s lips. Shane opened his mouth and took the chocolate, kissing Ilya’s fingers as the other man pulled his hand away.

“You are so good for me.”

Shane leaned up to press a kiss to Ilya’s jaw. “I could say the same to you.”

“You are okay?” Ilya asked, looking into Shane’s eyes. “You are feeling good, not dropping?”

Shane smiled, nuzzling Ilya’s chest. “I’m good, I promise.”

He could feel Ilya relax. “Good. I want you to be okay.”

Shane looked up, pressing a kiss to Ilya’s lips. “I’m always okay when I’m with you.”

Ilya kissed him back before pulling away. “We should get you into the bath. Is good for aftercare.”

“Will my fiancé be joining me in the bath?” Shane asked, hooking his fingers around Ilya’s chain.

“I think that can be arranged.” Ilya leaned into the touch, kissing Shane once more.

Chapter 11:

“What is this?” Ilya held up the box, scrutinizing it wit a critical eye.

“It’s pasta, Ilya.” Shane rolled his eyes, already knowing where this was going.

“Why is it orange? Pasta should only be orange if it is Kraft macaroni.”

Shane turned and gave his fiancé a horrified stare. “You eat Kraft mac and cheese? That is pure chemicals!”

“It is delicious! And chemicals are good!”

Ilya, that has no nutritional value!”

“Food does not always need to be nutritional!”

Shane scoffed from where he was filling the pot. “I cannot believe that you’re my biggest competition in the league.” Ilya flicked Shane’s ear, causing him to yelp.

“You did not answer my question. Why is the pasta orange?”

“It’s chickpea pasta.”

Ilya stared at him. “Why do you have chickpea pasta?”

“It’s healthier than regular pasta.”

“Pasta does not have to be healthy!”

“But now it can be!” Shane put the pot on the stove to boil and grabbed the tomatoes from the fridge. “Do you want to help me make the sauce?”

Ilya looked at the tomatoes in Shane’s hands. “You do not just use sauce from a jar?”

Shane stared at him. “You horrify me.”

“Your chickpea pasta horrifies me.”

Shane rolled his eyes. “Are you going to help me or are you going to judge my food?”

Ilya sighed, taking the tomatoes to the sink to wash them. “Don’t worry, Hollander, I can multitask.”

The two of them worked quickly and efficiently, Ilya actually being a fairly good cook when he put his mind to it. And when he wasn’t poking at the chickpea pasta like a starfish he’d found on the beach.

“Should we make a vegetable to go with it? Shane asked, looking in the fridge.

“Hollander, your pasta is made from vegetables. We are fine.” Ilya pointed out.

“You can never have too many vegetables.”

“One day, I am going to get you to eat McDonald’s for breakfast.”

Shane mimed gagging. “Never going to happen.”

“We’ll see.” Ilya brought the plates over to the table, and Shane brought the water glasses. Shane smiled at how domestic they were being. He never thought that he’d be able to have this with Ilya. Even in his wildest dreams, he figured that they’d be resigned to stolen moments in hotel rooms for the next ten years.

“What has you smiling so much?” Ilya asked.

“Nothing.” Shane shook his head as he grabbed his fork. “I’m just really happy you came with me this summer.”

“Ilya gave him a soft smile. “I am too.” He picked up his fork and put a piece of pasta in his mouth, making a face. “But next summer we are getting real pasta.”

Shane flicked him on the ear. “Don’t be an ass.”

“Not everything has to be healthy, Shane.” Ilya took another bite. “Sauce is good, though.”

“See? Making your own pasta sauce is better than jarred sauce.”

“Yes, but chickpea pasta is not better than regular pasta.”

Shane rolled his eyes.

~~

Ilya pushed himself off the lake floor, emerging from his handstand with a triumphant splash. His fiancé sat on a nearby rock, watching him with barely concealed amusement in his eyes as he soaked in the sun.

“Very nice, well done.” Shane pretended to clap for him, and Ilya pretended to bow in response.

Ilya started to paddle through the water, making his way closer to Shane.

“Is this where you do yoga, or up there?”

“No, I do it inside. The producer wanted me…” Shane paused, eyebrows raised. “Wait, you saw that?”

“Yeah, it was very good.” Ilya shrugged, barely hiding his smirk. “I needed help sleeping, so…”

Shane scoffed, narrowing his eyes as Ilya cackled. “You’re an asshole. That’s why you weren’t surprised about what the cottage looked like.”

“I find it adorable how you can make simple word like cottage sound pretentious. Like someone in period drama.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.” Ilya retorted, his heart warming at Shane’s smile.

“How’s the water?” Ilya swam closer, calculating the distance between him and Shane.

“You’re in it.” Shane pointed out as Ilya edged closer

“Yeah, but I want to know how you like it.”

Just as Shane was about to answer, Ilya attacked. He angled his palm against the water, splashing Shane with the lake water.

Shane sputtered, shaking his head to clear the drops from his face. He glared at Ilya through lashes flecked with droplets.

“Fuck you! What if my phone was in my pocket?”

“Ah, it’s not.” Ilya waved him off. “You left it on the table. It’s been ringing all morning.”

Shane frowned at him. “You’re still an asshole.”

Ilya laughed, effortlessly paddling through the water. He finally reached the rock Shane was sunning himself on like a hockey-obsessed lizard. He raised himself slightly out of the water, moving to kiss Shane’s ankle. In truth, he would kiss every inch of Shane’s body if he could, no matter what else was going on.

He lifted up further, putting his hands on Shane’s knees.

“Give me a kiss.” He puckered his lips, staring up at his Shane.

“You’re cold,” Shane complained before leaning down to kiss him anyway.

As they pulled away, Ilya smirked as an idea came into his head.

Shane seemed to read something in his face, shaking his head. “Ilya, don’t you dare—”

Before Shane could finish his sentence, Ilya had already pulled him into the water. Shane sputtered as he resurfaced, glaring at Ilya.

“I know, I am asshole.” Ilya shrugged before Shane pounced on him, shoving his head under the water.

~~

After they got out of the lake, Ilya and Shane started walking back up to the cottage, towels slung around their shoulders.

“We should probably start thinking about dinner,” Shane said as they neared the cottage. “Do you want more of the pasta from last night or hot dogs?”

“Hot dogs,” Ilya told him. “Maybe we can cook them over the fire for dinner.”

Shane grinned at him, his freckles more prominent after a day in the Ottawa sun. “I knew you liked the campfire.”

“Shut up.”

“Maybe we can make s’mores too.”

“I regret bringing it up.”

Shane chuckled. “The hot dogs are going to have to defrost a bit before dinner.”

“So we have a little time.” Ilya kept his tone casual, sneaking a glance at Shane.

“Maybe. What do you have in mind?”

Ilya grabbed Shane by the waist, pinning him to the glass wall of his cottage. “Nothing that will take too long.”

He grabbed Shane’s chin, pulling the other man into a kiss as his other hand grabbed Shane’s ass. He broke away after a long moment, grinning at his fiancé, when he saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eyes.

There was a man in the cottage kitchen, staring at them through the window.

Shane, noticing that Ilya was staring at something, turned around and gasped.

“Fuck, that’s my dad.”

“Oh, fuck.” Ilya’s eyes were wide.

The man left the kitchen, Shane’s eyes wide with panic as he looked back at Ilya.

“Maybe you should…” Ilya gestured at the cottage, and Shane nodded, taking off towards the driveway. Ilya walked inside, starting to pace the living room until Shane came back inside, his eyes wild.

“He left.” Shane’s breath started coming faster and faster. “I tried to talk to him, bt he just-he left.”

“Fuck.”

Shane didn’t seem to hear him, pacing behind the couch. “fuck, this is a fucking nightmare.”

“Shane…” Ilya tried to pull him into his arms, but Shane pulled out of his grip. Shane started to pace, Ilya watching him helplessly. He’d never had to do this, to handle his family finding out he was into men. Even if his father had paid enough attention to him to figure it out, he never would have brought it up.

“Oh, fuck, this is a fucking nightmare.” Shane kept repeating as his hands came up to his head, fisting in his hair. “Oh, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“We should go talk to him,” Ilya suggested, Shane freezing mid-stride.

“What if he doesn’t want to talk to me?” Shane’s voice broke. “What if… fuck, my mom!”

Ilya moved forward, pulling Shane into his arms. “Hey, hey, hey, they will talk to you. Your parents are not like my father. This will not be how you lose them. I am sure of it solnyshko.

“Yeah, but I fucking lied to them,” Shane argued, curling into Ilya. “For so many years, I fucking lied to them, and now my dad just walks in on me with my tongue down another guy’s throat.”

“Shane, it was an innocent kiss,” Ilya pointed out, but Shane didn’t seem to hear him.

“This…This is my fucking nightmare. This is my actual fucking nightmare, Ilya!

“ok, ok.” Ilya put his hands on either side of Shane’s face, forcing the other man to look at him. “Then maybe it’s time to wake up, yes?”

Shane’s face crumpled, and Ilya knew Shane knew he was right. Bit knowing what to do and being able to do it were two very different things.

“Fuck, I’m scared.” Shane admitted, Ilya pulling him into a hug.

“Yes, it’s scary,” he agreed, stroking Shane’s back. “But you’re brave. You can do this.”

“Shut up.” Shane let out a watery laugh, and Ilya held him tighter.

“You are, you’re brave.” Ilya insisted. “I could never do this. You are strong. You will make it through this.”

Shane sighed, pulling wavy and looking at Ilya. “I feel like I’m going to die.” his lips twisted as he let out a bitter chuckle. “So much for easing them into it.”

Ilya tried to think of a bright side. Something that could make Shane feel better. “Maybe… maybe he didn’t even notice,” Ilya suggested, Shane looking at him as though he’d grown two heads.

“Your hand was on my ass, Ilya. I’d be really surprised if he didn’t notice.”

“Well, was he wearing his glasses?”

“He doesn’t wear glasses.”

“Oh.” Ilya paused. “He still might not have noticed, hmm?”

Shane chuckled at that, pulling away.

“ok, I’m going to get changed,” he started to make a plan. “I’m going to drive over. Uh…” Ilya could see him starting to panic. “And then…And then…And then fuck! What am I going to say?”

Do you… Do you want me to come with you?” Ilya offered.

Shane looked at him, eyes wide and wet. “Would you?”

“Of course,” Ilya told him. “I know you would do the same for me.” He paused for a moment. “And I should probably meet my future in-laws before the wedding. Unless you don’t want to tell them right now?”

Ilya could understand if he didn’t. His father had just caught him with another man. Perhaps it was not the best time to bring up that he was engaged to one.

“No, I want to tell them.” Shane let out a nervous laugh. “Might as well get it all over with at once, right?”

“Okay. So we can get changed and go over.” Ilya put a hand on Shane’s shoulder. “Everything will be okay. Your parents love you. This will not change that.”

Shane nodded, Ilya seeing the nervous energy coursing through his body.

“ok…” Shane sank to the floor, wrapping his arms around Ilya’s legs. Ilya stood there, wishing there was something more he could do to help the man that he loved.

~~

Shane fiddled with the ring on his finger as he waited for Ilya to leave the house. The rational part of him knew that this wouldn’t be bad. That his parents loved him, and that this was not going to make them stop loving him.

But at the same time, what if it was? What if this was a step too far for them? What if they preferred him to bring home a nice girl like Rose Landry?

Ilya came out, dragging Shane out of his spiral. And into another one when he noticed what Ilya was wearing.

“That… that is not going to help.” Shane sighed, spotting Ilya’s Boston Raiders t-shirt.

Ilya looked down at his chest and back up at Shane with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, they don’t know I play for Boston?”

“Fair point.”

Shane got into the car, and Ilya followed suit.

The drive to his parents’ house only took ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity to Shane. His knuckles were white where he clutched the steering wheel.

After a drive that felt too long and too short all at the same time, they pulled into his parents’ driveway. Shane took a deep breath, about to get out of the car when he turned to Ilya.

“Uh, maybe you should wait in the car.” His fiancé gave him a look, and Shane realized how stupid that was. Telling them wouldn’t be any easier with Ilya out of the room. In fact, it would probably be harder. At least with Ilya there he would have someone in that room who was on his side.

“Fuck, never mind, sorry.” Shane let out a breath, fidgeting in his seat.

“It will be okay, Shane,” Ilya said as they got out of the car.

“Yeah, I really hope so.”

Shane walked to the door, not even bothering to knock. He let himself in, finding his mom and dad in the living room. His dad looked as though he’d seen a ghost, and his mother just looked confused.

“Hey, it’s me, Shane.” He winced as the words came out, feeling awkward.

“Hi, honey. This is a surprise,” his mom said, looking at his dad.

“I left my charger at your place,” his dad said, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. “It’s the old one that fits into my phone, and all the other chargers we have are newer, so…”

“It’s ok, Dad.” Shane cut him off, trying to keep his voice calm. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have found out that way.”

His mom gave him a confused look. “Found out what, exactly?”

“That I’m gay.” He winced as the words left his mouth, a part of him wishing that he could take them back. But he couldn’t. There was no going back from this. “Which I was going to tell you soon. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Shane stepped back, motioning to Ilya as he walked into view. “Yeah, and this is Ilya.” he paused. “Rozanov. But you already know that.”

“Hi.” Shane could see Ilya standing straight as a rod out of the corner of his eyes, and he wished that Ilya’s first time meeting his parents was happening under better circumstances.

“He’s visiting, and we’re, uh…” Shane trailed off, trying to figure out the best way to tell his parents that he was gay, in love with his greatest rival, and engaged to the man they spent a decade thinking he hated. Or at least one of those things to start.

Ilya put a hand on Shane’s shoulder, Shane leaning into the touch. “Lovers.”

Shane made a face. “No, Ilya, that’s gross.”

“Oh.” Ilya paused. “Fiancés is more accurate anyway.”

“Fiancés?” his mom’s eyes went wide, and Shane gave her a small smile.

“Yeah.” He held up his right hand, and Ilya did the same. “We’re engaged.”

“The rings are on your right hand?” she asked.

“It’s the tradition in Russia.”

“Huh. Interesting.” his dad said.

“But you hate him.” His mother looked at Shane.

“No.” He shook his head. “I mean, I get that, but no, I actually, uh…” he looked over at Ilya, taking his hand. “I love him.”

“Oh,” his mom blinked. “Okay then.”

Shane collapsed his hands together, trying to hide the shaking. “I-I did not want this to be how I told you. I’m sorry.”

Shane’s dad stepped forward. “Son, it’s okay.”

Shane felt himself trembling, clasping his shaking hands in front of him. “I’m sorry. Can we just sit down, please?”

“Yeah, let’s go sit at the table.” Shane’s dad said. “Maybe we should all have a drink and talk.”

“I’ll get them.” Shane’s mom disappeared into the kitchen, Shane leading Ilya to the table. He could see Ilya looking around the house, taking it all in.

The two of them took a seat, Ilya looking anywhere but at Shane’s dad sitting across from him.

“So…” Shane finally spoke, breaking the silence. “How’s it been, Dad?”

“It’s been good,” he said, nodding. “We’ve been keeping busy.”

“Us too,” Shane said without thinking, freezing. “I mean, we’ve been swimming a lot. and playing video games, and stuff.”

He could practically feel Ilya trying not to laugh next to him.

His mom came back, handing Shane and Ilya their cups.

“Thanks, Mom.” Shane took a sip, welcoming something to hold.

“Yes, thank you.” Ilya held the cup between his hands, taking a small sip. Shane’s heart broke. This wasn’t how he wanted to introduce Ilya to his parents. Nothing was going according to plan.

“I think we thought maybe you were gay,” his mom said as she took his seat.

Shane stared at them. “You did?”

“I think we thought it was certainly possible,” his dad chimed in.

“For how long?” Shane’s eyes darted between the two of them.

“Mmm, for a while, I guess.” his mom gave him a small smile.

“We both know you pretty well, Shane,” his dad told him before letting out a breath. “I mean, what we did not suspect was that you were so friendly with Rozanov.”

“Ilya.” Ilya said, and Shane’s dad nodded.

“Ilya, sorry.”

“I know.” Shane clasped his hands together in front of him, trying to ground himself. “It’s a long story.”

“When did this happen?” Shane’s dad asked before pausing. “Wait. The All-Star game. You two had so much chemistry.”

Shane shook his head. “No, it was before then.”

“Wow!” His dad said, shaking his head. Wow. Wow.”

Shane’s mom fixed him with an expectant stare. “So, when?”

Shane resisted the urge to duck his head, his fingers tapping out a nervous beat on the table. “Since our, uh, rookie season.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Since your rookie season?”

“Yep.”

“No, it’s not true.” Ilya insisted. “Since before that.”

“Not helpful,” Shane told Ilya, who shrugged unrepentantly.

“Before?” Yuna asked.

“The summer before,” Ilya told her, Shane wanting to put his head in his hands. “The CCM shoot.”

Shane saw his mom flush a deep red. “So, when I ran into you in the elevator that night…”

“Yeah.” Ilya’s cheeks were red as Shane turned to stare at him.

“You ran into my mother the night we first—?” He wanted to run and hide. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It did not seem important at the time!”

Shane was sure he didn’t want to know the answer to this, but he had to ask. “Was it before or after we—”

“Before.”

Shane resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands. “Oh, my god.”

His mom blinked, looking between the two of them. “So you’ve been in love since…”

“No! No, no, no.” He and Ilya insisted at the same time.

“It wasn’t like that, Mom,” Shane told her.

“Then what was it like?” she asked, and Shane looked helpless at Ilya. Maybe he’d have a better idea of what to say to her.

“It was more just…” Ilya trailed off, making a vague hand gesture.

Or he’d do something like that.

“Just what?”

“Uh, just…” Ilya shrugged, and Shane prayed that he’d stop talking. “Just….”

“Ilya.” Shane glared as he knocked his foot against Ilya’s, silently begging him not to explain the concept of fuckbuddies to his parents if he ever wanted Shane to touch his dick again.

“Oh, ok.” his mom looked down, a light blush across her cheeks.

“Just what?” Shane’s dad blinked, confused.

His mom leaned towards his dad, lowering her voice. “Lovers.”

“ok, no one is allowed to use that word again,” Shane burst out, wanting nothing more than to forget this conversation ever happened.

The table was silent for a moment, and then Shane’s mom coughed. “Well, I would love a drink.”

“Me too.” Shane said, his hand coming up to cover his face.

“Yes, thank you.” Ilya agreed.

Shane’s dad went to the kitchen and brought back a bottle of vodka and four glasses.

“And there were no nice men in Montreal?” his dad asked.

“I don’t know.” Shane resisted the urge to snap at his dad. He knew he didn’t mean it like that, but Ilya was already tense enough about meeting his parents. He didn’t want anything to make it worse. “Probably there were.”

“And you both kept this a secret for years?” his mother asked.

“I mean, yeah? We kind of had to.” Shane shrugged, looking at Ilya for help.

Ilya took a sip of his vodka and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“This is good vodka,” he complimented, Shane’s dad shrugging.

“Thanks. I try to buy the Russian stuff.”

Ilya nodded in agreement, and Shane’s mom got the conversation back on track.

You never…” She trailed off for a moment before deciding to just go for it. “I mean, you never let him win, did you, Shane?”

Shane gave her a flat look. “Do you let Dad win at cards?”

“I’d rather die,” she said, Shane’s dad not even surprised.

“Same here,” Shane said, meeting her gaze. She scrutinized him for a long moment before seeming to let it go.

“ok.” She took a sip, looking between the two of them. “So is your plan to, what, just keep doing this in secret until you both retire, or…”

Shane shook his head. “Maybe that could have been an option once, but not anymore.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“No. We want to have a future together.” Shane let out a breath. “But we know it’s going to be hard, especially since the NHL has spent so long building up this rivalry. We just can’t come out and, like, announce it.” He slumped down on his seat. “I want to come out soon, but I think it’s going to mean the end of my time as a Metro.

“What?” Yuna’s gaze sharpened. “Why do you think that? They love you in Montreal. You’re their most valuable player, you got them two cups!”

“Ever since Scott came out, the team group chat has been saying some…horrible things,” he admitted, Ilya putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Things like ‘I’m glad we don’t have one of those in our locker room’ and ‘I could never be on a team with someone like that.’” he clapsed his hands together on the table. “They might love me now, but I don’t think that’ll stay the case when the news hits.”

His mom blinked, sitting back in her chair. Seeming to sense that his wife needed a moment to process everything, Shane’s dad turned to Ilya.

“Ilya, I’ve got to say, I’m surprised,” he broke the silence that had fallen over the table. “You have such a reputation as a ladies’ man.”

“Mmm.” Ilya hummed in agreement. “It’s not untrue.”

“Ilya likes both,” Shane chimed in.

“Oh.” His dad nodded as Ilya continued to speak.

“It’s true, I’ve been with many women, but…” he reached for Shane’s hand, stroking his thumb over his knuckles. I have only been in love with one person.”

Shane smiled softly, squeezing Ilya’s hand once. “Same here,” he echoed, staring into Ilya’s eyes. “Only one.”

Shane’s mom looked between the two of them for a long moment. “I just… I need a minute.”

Shane’s heart sank as she went to the back door, letting herself out into the yard. He glanced at Ilya, who motioned for him to follow her.

As he stopped outside, he saw his other standing near the fence with her back tp him. Her shoulders were shaking, as if she were crying.

His heart jumped into his throat. He’d never wanted to hurt her. He’d thought that this was something that he could accept, but what if it wasn’t?

“Mom, um..” Shane let out a breath as he broke the silence, shifting his stance. “I need you to know that I did really try.” his voice broke, and he blinked back the tears that were starting to form. “I tried really hard, but, um…I just can’t help it. And I’m sorry.”

His mother turned to him, eyes wide as she moved closer. “Oh, no, you have nothing, nothing to apologize for,” she put her hands up to cradle his face. “Look at me. Look at me. Look at me.” Shane reluctantly dragged his gaze to her face, taken aback by the love and support beaming from her. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like you couldn’t tell me.”

“It wasn’t anything you did,” Shane told her. “It really wasn’t. I think some part of me knew that you and Dad would both accept me.” He felt another tear fall. “But for the longest time, I couldn’t accept myself. I couldn’t even let myself think of a future where I could have him. And even when I did, it seemed like it was impossible to ever get to a point where we could have that.”

“And now?” She asks quietly. “What changed?”

Shane gave her a watery smile. “Now I know that he wants it too. And I’m going to fight for us for as long as I can. I don’t care what it costs me. I only care that it doesn’t cost me him.”

His mom nodded. “Okay.” She moved one hand to his shoulder, squeezing it gently. I am so, so proud of you. ok?” She swallowed hard. “Please forgive me.”

Shane sighed. “Of course I forgive you, Mom. I love you.”

“Oh, I love you too.” she pulled him into a hug. “So much.”

Shane hugged her back, relief flooding his system.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, pulling back to examine his face.

“Yeah,” he let out a breath, giving her a small smile. “I’m okay.”

“And Rozanov. He’s good to you?”

Shane felt his cheeks grow warm. “Yeah, Mom, he’s good to me.”

She picked up his right hand. Looking at his engagement ring. Shane held his breath, desperate to know what his mother thought.

“He picked well,” she finally said. “This ring is perfect for you.”

“I could say the same about him,” Shane told her, meeting her gaze.

“Okay,” she nodded, as if seeming to decide something. “Then I guess we’d better get inside so I can meet my son’s fiancé.”

Shane let out a relieved laugh as the two of them went inside.

“Can I see your ring, Ilya?” His mom asked, Ilya holding out his hand. She looked at his ring before giving Shane a smile. “You both picked beautiful rings, very unique.”

“Thanks, mom.” Shane grinned at her.

“So, who do you think did the better job?” Ilya asked, Shane shooting him a dirty look.

“Let it go, Rozanov.”

“Is just a question!”

“You said it wasn’t a competition!”

“No, you said that!”

His dad chuckled as his mom seemed to have an idea.

“Why don’t you guys stay for lunch?” his mother suggested. “We can talk things over.”

Shane looked to Ilya, who gave him a nod.

“Okay. Let’s do it.” Shane finally said, his mother smiling.

~~

Before long, his dad was placing a pot of spaghetti on the table as Shane and Ilya grabbed plates and glasses.

“Okay. We need a plan,” his mother said, taking a seat. “Shane, you said you wanted to come out soon, right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I think that if we put something out in the next few weeks, the team ought to have time to adjust before training camp starts. It might help with some of the backlash.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Shane let out a deep breath. “Then we waive my no-trade clause, and I move to another team, ideally in the Eastern Conference,” he thought for a moment. “New York would be a decent option if nothing else. Or maybe Philadelphia?”

“Or Ottawa.” Ilya pointed out. “That was part of the plan anyway. Maybe we just move it up.”

“Maybe.” Shane shrugged. “It’s definitely an option.”

“Or you could join me in Boston.”

Shane saw his mom’s eyes go wide.

“Maybe we cross that bridge when we get to it. They still don’t have enough room in their cap to afford both of us.”

Ilya shrugged. “Okay, but I think you could like Boston. Just saying.”

“Okay, well, at least you have some ideas of where you can go,” Yuna said. “Keep me up to date on how things go with the team, and I can put feelers if need be.”

“Got it.” Shane hid a smile as his mom kept talking.

“Now, as for the two of you,” she gestured between Shane and Ilya. “We need a statement prepared in case anything leaks. Something classy and simple.”

“That’s fair.” Ilya nodded, Shane agreeing. They could hope that nothing would get out, but all it would take was one slip-up. One picture of them not being careful, or one video of them getting leaked online, would be all it would take for the entire world to find out about them.

Ilya started to eat his pasta, groaning as he took a bite.

“Your pasta is so much better than your son’s,” he said, Shane rolling his eyes.

“There is nothing wrong with chickpea pasta!”

“It does have an odd taste, Shane.” His dad said, ” Shane, huffing.

“At least I don’t eat Kraft mac and cheese!”

Shane’s parents turned to stare at Ilya as he took another bite of pasta.

“Kraft is good.” He said, practically inhaling the bowl in front of him, his shoulders moving in some sort of strange pasta dance. Shane’s dad moved the pot closer to him, and Ilya nodded in thanks.

“Anyway.” Shane’s mom tried to get them back on track. “I’m going to quietly

reach out to the premium brands, or maybe just Reebok, Rolex and Speedo.” She seemed to be doing the calculations in her head. “They’ll be thrilled, I think, once they wrap their minds around this. There’s a world of opportunity here, if they do it right.”

“Mom, can you just take three steps back, please?” Shane gave her a look. “We just want…a future. I know it’ll be a long road, but we don’t need to talk about brand deals right now, right?”

His mom sighed, giving in. “I suppose we don’t.” She turned her attention to Ilya. “And you’d play in Ottawa?”

Ilya swallowed another massive bite of pasta. “Yes. We would be closer, and we’re going to start a hockey camp charity during the summers. It makes sense for us to be close by.”

Shane shook his head. “I still can’t believe I got you to agree to that plan.”

“Why not? Is good plan.”

“Because I came up with it at two in the morning and woke you up like a crazy person!”

His mom laughed. “You did?”

Shane flushed. “I might have been a little overexcited.”

You woke me up like passionate person. There is a difference.” Ilya shrugged, taking a bite of pasta and swallowing it before speaking again. “And it was attractive.”

Shane stared at him. “You found me waking you up in the middle of the night to talk hockey attractive?”

“You should not be surprised. You already knew I found your love of hockey attractive.”

Shane paused before shrugging, “…fair point.”

“Getting back to the situation at hand.” Shane’s mom gave them both an amused look before looking at Ilya. “Ilya, you have no loyalty to Boston?”

“Jesus, Mom!” Shane glared at his mom, and she raised her hands.

“What? They drafted him.” She turned to Ilya, Shane watching his fiancée stiffen under his mother’s gaze.

“You would leave Boston for Shane?” She asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yes.”

Shane saw his mom start to frown and he rolled his eyes. “Mom!”

“Loyalty is important.” She defended herself, and Shane scoffed.

“He’s trying to be loyal to me, not Boston,” Shane pointed out. “And it’s not much different than me wanting to leave Montreal to be with him if it comes to that.”

“Well…” Based on her expression, his mom seemed to think there was a big difference in the two, but Shane knew that was just her diehard love of the Metros talking.

Shane sighed, turning to Ilya. “My mom cares a little too much about hockey.”

“Oh, really?” Ilya acted surprised. “I could not tell. Now I see where you get it from.”

Shane shoved him, Ilya not seeming to care as he scooped more spaghetti into his mouth.

“Have you talked to Scott Hunter?” His mom asked, looking between him and Ilya.

“I texted him my support.” Shane took a bite. “He said thanks.”

“I spoke to him briefly.” Ilya chewed and swallowed. “After MLH award in June.”

“And what did he say?” Yuna asked.

“Nothing.” Ilya shrugged, seeing the look Shane was giving him. “I didn’t tell him about Shane and me. But what he did, it was…”

“Yes, it was very brave.” Shane’s mom finished Ilya’s thought.

“It changed things for me at least.” Shane felt Ilya nudge his foot under the table. “Maybe for us.”

Shane felt all the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body reach its peak.

He should be happy. His parents accepted Ilya, and they were helping him make a plan to be together. But something in him told him that this was all too easy. That the finish line was always going to be moved for them, and they’d never stand a chance of getting to actually be together.

Everything was moving so quickly. He was making plans to come out, and he hadn’t even told Hayden and JJ yet. He hoped they’d be okay with it, but what if they weren’t? What if they hated him?

He let out a low breath, resting his head on the table as he tried to remember to breathe.

He heard the conversation around him come to a halt, and felt Ilya place a hand on his shoulder.

“Shane…” Ilya shook his shoulder slightly. “Shane.”

Shane tried to wave him off. “I’m ok. I’m just freaking out,” he let out a low breath. “I’ll be ok in a second.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” he felt Ilya move closer, his cheek barely brushing Shane’s. “We’re good here. Your family is here. Your fiancé is here.” Ilyas ‘ thumb swept a gentle semicircle across Shane’s collarbone. “You’re good here, ok?”

Shane finally looked up, gazing into Ilya’s worried eyes.

“We’re going to be okay, right?” he finally asked, his voice soft. “I don’t- I don’t want to risk losing you.”

Ilya’s eyes softened. “Trust me, solnyshko. After spending so long apart, I am not going to let you go now for any reason.”

Shane let out a relieved smile, pressing his lips to Ilya’s. The other man melted into his touch, Shane dimly aware of his parents talking.

“Since rookie season…” his mother whispered, sounding as though she was near tears.

“The summer before,” his dad corrected, Shane and Ilya laughing into the kiss.

~~

Soon after he and Ilya left for the cottage, his parents were already planning to come by for dinner later that evening.

“I’ll bring the chicken and some salad stuff.”

“I’ll pick up beer in town.”

“Please text.” Shane reminded them.

“Why? We’ll just be there around 5:00.

“Please text.” Ilya backed Shane up.

“We’ll text.” Shane’s dad gave them a knowing look. “Pay attention to your phones.”

“Thank you for pasta.” Ilya said, and his mom gave him both a smile.

“Drive safely. I love you,” she told them both.

“Love you!”

Shane let out a breath when they got in the car, grinning at Ilya. “We did it.”

“You did it, Hollander.” Ilya reminded him, and Shane brushed him off

“I never could have done any of that without you.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “And now we have a better plan. We can have a real future together, and not just wait until retirement.” He reached for Ilya’s hand. “After so long hoping for this, it’s finally within our reach. I never could have hoped for this before.”

Ilya squeezed Shane’s hand, marveling that he could have this. That he could have the man he loved, and that their love wouldn’t have to be a secret forever. One day, the entire world would know that Ilya Rozanov loved Shane Hollander. And until then, they’d live their lives in the sunlight, no longer confined to the shadows.

“Neither could I.”

Shane kept grinning to himself as he started the car, and Ilya was content to just sit and watch him. After years of separation, one hope then another dashed, he could see a path forward for them.

And that was worth everything to him.

The End

 

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