Reading Time: 131 Minutes

Title: The Voice Inside Sings a Different Song
Author: Bythia
Fandom: Heated Rivalry, Game Changer Series
Genre: Established Relationship, Slash
Relationship(s): Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov
Content Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Hate Speech, homophobia, homophobic language
Author Note: Back in December, I told myself I would not fall into this fandom. Because I don’t do sports fandoms. That resolution lasted until Christmas Day. Then I rushed through reading the books, and promptly got so lost in a new fandom, I sat down and wrote a whole story for QB additional to the two I was already writing. So here we are, with a story that’s nearly double as long as I expected it to be.
Beta: starlitenite
Word Count: 87,663
Summary: The emergency landing of Ilya’s plane makes Shane realize that he needs to shift his priorities. While he and Ilya scramble to come up with a new plan about how to come out this following summer instead of ten years down the line, Shane sees some of his worst fears coming true while at the same time finding support he had never dared to even dream of.
Artist: CorgiQueen14

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Chapter 01

Shane shook out the shirt that he had already re-folded twice with more force than he knew was necessary. Instead of folding it for a third time, he wrung it between his hands, staring at his suitcase so he wouldn’t have to look at JJ. Having to hide had never felt as unfair as it had over the past 12 hours since he had learned about the emergency landing of Ilya’s plane.

Hiding until the end of their careers had always seemed like the only path he and Ilya could take. What felt like an eternity ago now, his mother had said it was sad they’d have to hide for such a long time, but Shane thought she was really the one who would understand the most that it was the only option. It had felt more and more difficult and impossible over the past months, maybe the past year, but Shane still couldn’t see another path.

It felt like yesterday had fundamentally changed things.

If things had turned out differently, Shane wouldn’t have been able to hide anymore. If Ilya had died, he knew he wouldn’t have made it off the team bus without breaking down, and everyone would have known immediately. If Ilya had been hurt, he wouldn’t have hesitated to get that rental car and drive all the way down to Florida. Though he wondered if he would’ve been allowed to see Ilya, if anyone would’ve given him any information at all. No one on Ilya’s team knew about them, no one would think that Shane had a reason to ask any questions, that he had a right to know anything at all.

Shane closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. Ilya was fine. He had seen him, they had talked, Ilya had sent him a very filthy picture in the middle of the night. Shane hadn’t been able to sleep anyway, so they had spent hours talking afterwards, keeping each other company through a night that would’ve otherwise been filled with nightmares.

“Shane?” JJ’s voice pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts, and Shane blinked, dumbfounded, when JJ carefully pulled the shirt out of his grip and started to fold it himself.

Shane looked at his friend, and for the first time since all of this with Ilya had started, Shane didn’t care if telling anyone would end his career. Weeks ago, Ilya had asked him if he’d choose Ilya over hockey, and the answer had been clear then, even though Shane had been too angry about the whole argument to say it aloud. Now he wished he could just scream it to the whole world that he would always choose Ilya without a single doubt.

So, Shane made a decision.

“Sit down,” he told JJ quietly and grabbed his phone, unlocking it with shaking hands.

“I know this thing with the plane of the Centaurs rattled you.”

Shane nodded and pressed his thumbs against the edges of his phone, Ilya’s messages on Instagram open on the screen. By now, Shane had memorized every single word of it. He had also made a screenshot. He hadn’t uploaded it to the cloud because that felt too risky. But he would save it on his laptop as soon as he was back home.

“You really should sit down, JJ,” Shane repeated. “You asked for the truth. And maybe I should’ve … You’re one of my best friends. But I don’t know how you’ll react.”

JJ hadn’t reacted well in the beginning when Shane had come out to the team as gay. No one had reacted well, really, and most of the guys still side-eyed him. It wasn’t as bad as Shane had feared for so many years before Scott Hunter had come out so very publicly, but it was still soul-crushing to see how differently he was treated by some now. Sometimes Shane was sure that the only reason he was still wearing the C was that they didn’t have a publicly acceptable reason to take it away.

“I think I already know, Shane,” JJ said.

Shane frowned. “What?”

“Your crush on Rozanov? It’s … I don’t think anyone else would notice, but I know you.”

Shane swallowed.

“I don’t know the last time I had an unrequited crush, but I remember how much it sucks,” JJ continued.

Before he could say anything else, Shane laughed, sharply and without any humor in it. He turned the phone and held it out for JJ instead of verbally correcting him. He didn’t know if his friend would believe him, but no one could ever read these words from Ilya—words he had intended to be his last if the worst happened—and not believe just how deep his love for Shane was.

JJ lowered his gaze, but he took the phone. Shane tried to watch him as he read the message, but he was on the verge of crying again—as if he somehow hadn’t cried enough yet—and he couldn’t read his friend’s expression at all through the tears blurring his sight.

“Ilya wrote this when he thought…” Shane couldn’t say it, and he had to clear his throat. “That was intended to be his last words. It’s what he wanted me to hear from him if we never got a chance to talk again.”

The silence stretched uncomfortably long. Then JJ exhaled slowly. “How long?”

Shane rolled his head back and stared at the ceiling. Was this better or worse than the shouting he had expected, the anger he feared so much? When Shane had come out to the team as gay, JJ had needed some time to deal with it. JJ reaction back then had hurt, even though it hadn’t been completely unexpected, but he thought they were back to where they had once been as friends. Shane didn’t expect him to be happy about Ilya, but he didn’t know what JJ’s reaction now meant.

“Forever,” Shane murmured, still staring at the ceiling. The pull had been there from the first time they’d met, from the first moment he had seen Ilya on the ice in person, training with his team from Russia, even before Shane had pulled up the courage to introduce himself to Ilya. But that was probably not what JJ meant. “Rookie season.”

“What?” JJ asked incredulously.

Shane shrugged. “It wasn’t always like … I mean … That we were honest with each other about what it is, that we agreed it wasn’t casual? Going on four years.”

“Four years,” JJ said slowly. “For fucks sake. Did Rozanov sign with Ottawa for you?”

Shane swallowed. ‘I already chose you,’ Ilya’s voice echoed through his head, and a new wave of tears threatened to overwhelm Shane. He was still so terrified of what coming out would mean for them, of how people would react, of how hockey might change for them—of how it might even end completely. But he had faced a much more terrifying reality now—one even more terrifying than the fear he had been battling with for weeks about the possibility that Ilya might break up with him.

“I can’t believe this,” JJ muttered. He dropped Shane’s phone on the bed and stood. “I need … I love you, man, but I need some time to process. This is … Can you imagine the scandal once this comes out?”

Shane huffed. “Why do you think we’ve kept this a secret even after Hunter proved being openly gay wouldn’t necessarily end our careers?”

JJ rubbed a hand over his face. “Right. That’s … I need time.”

Shane turned away from his friend, and this time he didn’t force himself to relax his posture. “Don’t tell anyone.”

JJ laughed dryly. “Who’d believe me, really? And I’m not…” For a moment, he grabbed Shane’s shoulder. “Just give me some time. I’m not … I’m still your friend, Shane.”

Shane nodded silently. A moment later, he heard the door close, and he barely made it to the bed before his legs gave out. He still had to finish packing, but right now, he didn’t think he could move. Despite JJ’s reassurance, he wasn’t so sure if he hadn’t just lost a friend.

***

“I’m driving you home.”

Shane turned to JJ and stared at him blankly. The flight home to Montreal had been terrible, but thankfully no one had bothered him during it. Hayden had chosen the seat beside Shane, but he hadn’t forced him into any conversation, had let Shane stare out the window without disturbing him. He had distracted anyone else from trying to draw Shane into conversation—not that many people on the team still tried to include Shane in casual conversation—and he had cursed out several people for joking about the Centaurs’ emergency landing.

“Had to fight Hayden for it,” JJ said frowning, voice rough.

“You don’t have…”

“Yeah, I do,” JJ interrupted him. “You’re in no condition to drive. Did you sleep at all last night?”

Shane shook his head slowly.

JJ nodded and gestured towards his car, so Shane followed him with a sigh. He could point out that he had taken an Uber to the airport rather than drive himself anyway, but he figured that wouldn’t get him out of riding with JJ either.

“So, Hayden knew all along,” JJ said darkly as soon as they were both settled in the car.

“Not all along. He figured it out, though,” Shane said quietly. “Wasn’t really my choice, or Ilya’s choice.”

JJ huffed. “Who else knows?”

Shane ran his tongue over his lips, wondering why that mattered at all. “My parents. Because Dad walked in on us when we were at the cottage one summer. Ryan Price. Because he walked in on us one evening at the summer hockey camps last year.”

JJ laughed, and it sounded much more honest than Shane had expected. “Are you trying to tell me I’m the first you told voluntarily?”

“Not quite,” Shane admitted with a sigh. “We told Farah last summer. Figured she should know as our agent, and that we’d need a new agent if she couldn’t support us.”

“Makes sense,” JJ agreed.

“Ilya’s got a friend in Boston, but I don’t know if she knows my name,” Shane continued. “And … I told Rose years ago. She was … the first person I came out to.”

“Other than Rozanov.”

Shane shook his head. “No. Even before Ilya. I … tried for a very long time to tell myself that I liked women, too. And that I would eventually stop … hooking up with Ilya. That was what the whole thing with Rose was about from the beginning. So, yeah. She is the first person I ever admitted that I’m gay to.”

JJ was silent, and when Shane glanced at him, his hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly. Shane turned his head away and stared out the window, watching the buildings pass by. It was at least another half an hour to his house.

“Rookie season, really?” JJ asked eventually. “How did that even work?”

Shane shrugged. “A stolen hour or two in either of our hotel rooms. Ilya’s number saved in my phone under a woman’s name.” He huffed and dragged his hands through his hair. “I bought a whole ass building with three condos and a business unit on the ground floor, which was the only thing in the building I rented out. So that we had a place to meet where no one would see us together.”

“Wow,” JJ exhaled slowly.

“Eventually, I went to Ilya’s place whenever we were in Boston,” Shane murmured. Somehow, it felt good to talk about all of it, to just unload all of it on someone. He had talked about some of it with his parents, who had looked so crushed about it all. It had felt more like burdening them than letting go of his own burdens. “I didn’t allow him to visit me here at home for … a really long time.”

“Too risky,” JJ said quietly. “I mean, not really riskier than going to his place in Boston, but I can see why you’d have felt that way.”

Shane just shrugged.

JJ sighed deeply. “I don’t know what to say, Shane. I’m … I still think there are better guys you could find. Rozanov is an ass.”

“There aren’t,” Shane said tiredly. “Ilya is … everything.”

Shane had known that for a long time, even when he had still tried to ignore it. Over the past couple of years, he’d wondered over and over again when he had fallen in love with Ilya. He was never able to pinpoint when it had happened exactly; it had just been there at one point, overwhelming and all-consuming.

“Did you ever…” JJ huffed. “How does this work on the ice?”

Shane glared at his friend—he could imagine exactly what JJ had wanted to ask at first. “Neither of us would ever lose on purpose,” he snapped.

JJ exhaled loudly. “Okay.”

“You’ve been playing with me for years,” Shane said angrily. “Did you ever get the impression I wasn’t giving my best out on the ice? That I was slacking off when I was facing Ilya?”

“No,” JJ admitted quietly.

“So, why would you even ask that fucking question?”

“You’re legendary rivals, Shane,” JJ said. “And Rozanov is an asshole. I just don’t understand. I’d like to question if it’s even serious for him, but I can’t get his messages you showed me out of my head. Or your reaction to the emergency landing.”

Shane shrugged.

“I don’t understand,” JJ repeated. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t have my support, Shane. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you.”

“You got a plan, right?” JJ asked. “I mean, it’s you. I can’t see Rozanov having any plan, but I also don’t really know him off the ice. But you have to have a plan. I’m half convinced already, Ottawa for Rozanov was your plan, and I still think it’s insane he’d join that team just for you.”

Shane couldn’t help but chuckle. “Maybe.” Then he blew out a breath. “We had a plan. Ottawa was as much about … not being so far apart as it was about citizenship for Ilya. Other than that?” Shane shrugged. “Keep it all a secret until we both retire in a decade or so. I don’t think I can do that now.”

“Because of the emergency landing?” JJ asked.

Shane bit his lip. “I think … this conclusion has been coming for a long time. We’ve spent the last four summers together. Two weeks at the cottage. Then, for the last two years, the summer hockey camps. The sacrifice of spending so much time apart has become … unbearable. I was just stubborn about admitting that to myself.”

“So, what’s the new plan?” JJ asked.

“I don’t have one yet,” Shane said.

That wasn’t quite true. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, could already picture how he wanted to set up Ilya’s living room the day he’d arrive home. Thankfully, the Voyageurs had a couple of free days without games, and practice the day after the Centaurs were scheduled to land in Ottawa wasn’t mandatory for Shane. So, he could go to Ottawa the night Ilya arrived and spend that following day with him.

JJ threw him a skeptical look. “You, of all people, don’t have a plan?”

“I’ll come up with one,” Shane murmured. “Maybe I’ll even find one where I don’t have to give up hockey.”

“Come on,” JJ said incredulously.

“You’ve seen how the team reacted just to the news I was gay,” Shane snapped. “Some of the guys don’t talk to me at all anymore outside of training and games when they absolutely have to. I didn’t miss Comeau’s birthday party because I chose to. I wasn’t invited, the second year in a row now. In fact, he explicitly told me not to show up the first time around. And he isn’t the only one who has explicitly told me I’m not welcome in his space outside of training and games. Don’t think it’s a coincidence either that I’ve only ever been rooming with you or Hayden when we’re on the road if I’m sharing with anyone.”

JJ let out a string of curses.

“I only told the team and the coaches that I’m gay,” Shane continued quietly. “No one else who didn’t already know before. And suddenly Roger Crowell asked to meet, and I had to listen to him telling me in no uncertain terms that I better not consider coming out openly.”

“What the fuck?” JJ asked loudly.

Shane shrugged.

“You think that was Theriault?”

“Don’t know who else would’ve talked about my sexuality with the commissioner. It doesn’t matter, in the end. I trusted this team, I gave them so much over the decade I have been playing for the Voyageurs, and their homophobia is still more important to them than knowing me. We’ll see what happens when Ilya and I come out. If Crowell doesn’t just outright blacklist both of us with the whole League.”

“He can’t blacklist you for being gay,” JJ said.

“But for dating my rival?”

“I don’t think there are rules about that.” JJ cleared his throat. “It’s working in the women’s league.”

“Less money in the women’s league because our world is fucked up and doesn’t pay them what they deserve,” Shane muttered. “Also, the men who make the decisions about this don’t mind seeing two women together. That’s something they can fantasize about after all, isn’t it? So much less gross and unnatural than two guys together.”

JJ threw him a wide-eyed look.

Shane shrugged. It wasn’t exactly his own thoughts he was voicing there; he’d had some very enlightening conversations with Leah and Max before and after their hockey camps. He really didn’t understand half of their bitter comments about women’s hockey, because he knew too little about the inner workings of their league. But he believed them without a doubt and wasn’t above using the arguments they had provided him.

JJ sighed. “You won’t be thrown out of the NHL. That would be stupid. And your mom would make you sue everyone.”

That made Shane laugh. “Yeah, true.”

“I’ve got your back,” JJ promised softly. “No matter what’s going to happen. I … Hayd and I talked. I know we haven’t been the best friends since you came out to the team. We’ve been too quiet about a lot of the bullshit everyone is throwing at you.”

“You and I are very used to laughing off the bullshit everyone throws at us,” Shane said. “Racism, homophobia. In the end, it’s all the same, just dressed up differently. Don’t throw your career away for me, JJ. We’ve seen this season what just speaking up against the status quo will do to a player in this league.”

“You probably know more about that thing with Barrett than anyone else outside of the Centaurs.”

He really didn’t, Shane thought. Because Ilya was finding a new friend in Troy Barrett, and it had been driving Shane insane with so much jealousy that he had never really listened when Ilya had talked about him. Just another point to show how badly Shane had fucked up.

“It’s ugly,” Shane said darkly. “But it very clearly shows what state the League is in, doesn’t it? And what Ilya and I have to expect when we come out.”

***

Ilya sighed deeply and pressed a kiss against Shane’s shoulder as he woke up. Waking up beside Shane was still such a novel and precious experience, even after the years they had now spent stealing every quiet moment they could. Ilya would never get tired of it.

When Ilya moved to press his whole body against Shane, the chain around his neck shifted, and he couldn’t help the smile when he was reminded of the ring he was wearing beside the cross now. He pressed another kiss against Shane’s shoulder—his fiancé’s shoulder. He had forgotten for a moment about coming home to his living room filled with a million electric candles. If their batteries had held the whole night, they would still be burning downstairs.

“Good morning,” Shane murmured sleepily.

“Very good morning,” Ilya agreed.

He left a trail of more kisses along Shane’s shoulder and rubbed his thumb over one of Shane’s nipples. Ilya felt an intense need to fuck Shane, to be inside his fiancé. He needed to feel this connection, needed to get lost in Shane in a way he could only achieve when he was fucking him.

Shane sighed and shifted, pulling the blanket away from them. He grabbed Ilya’s hair with and pulled it just slightly. Ilya followed the direction and pressed a kiss against Shane’s mouth as he rolled on top of him. Shane spread his legs, and Ilya settled comfortably between them.

“No condom,” Shane murmured. “Want to feel all of you.”

“Yes,” Ilya agreed readily.

Shane pulled on his hair again, and Ilya pressed his whole body against Shane as he kissed him deeply. For a little while, that was all they did, just basking in the feeling of being in this moment with each other.

Eventually, Ilya reached out blindly for the lube on the nightstand. Shane gave a soft whine when Ilya pulled back to kneel between his legs, and frowned up at Ilya with an adorable pout, but he also pulled his knees up, spreading his legs more to give Ilya better access.

Ilya grinned and winked at Shane. “Don’t pout,” he murmured in Russian. He leaned forward and kissed Shane’s knee, then trailed kisses down the inside of Shane’s thigh. Shane hissed, and by the time Ilya’s lips reached Shane’s cock it was already hard and leaking.

Ilya looked up through his lashes, and at the same moment he took Shane’s cock in his mouth he pushed a finger inside his fiancé. Shane groaned and grabbed Ilya’s hair again as his hips bucked up.

“Fuck, Ilya.” Shane groaned. “Hurry up.”

Ilya chuckled, which made Shane pull on his hair painfully, and added a second finger. It was so easy to open Shane up now, he was always so relaxed and trusted Ilya with practically everything. He also was always happy to let Ilya play with his ass however he wanted, and on another day, Ilya might have ignored Shane’s demands to spend some more time doing just that.

But not this morning. Because there was really only one thing Ilya wanted at the moment, and clearly it was exactly the same thing Shane wanted.

Shane threw his head back into the pillow with a groan when Ilya sucked hard one last time on his cock. Then he pulled back, lined his own cock up with Shane’s hole, and sank in.

“Yes,” Ilya hissed.

He pressed his forehead against Shane’s and just stayed like that for a moment, savoring the intense feeling of connection. If it were up to Ilya, he would spend an eternity just like this, not moving at all, just feeling Shane everywhere. Shane sighed and kissed him, then he curled one leg around Ilya’s waist and reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Hey,” Shane murmured breathlessly.

“I love you,” Ilya whispered. He rocked his hips forward in long, slow movements, savoring every moment of pleasure.

“I love you, too,” Shane answered in Russian, and there were moments like this when hearing Shane speak his native language took all of Ilya’s breath away.

Ilya kissed Shane, and they got lost in the slow pleasure of the morning. It felt like coming home after a too long journey, and Ilya tried to burn every second of this moment into his memories. He’d nearly lost his chance of being like this with Shane because of a fucking plane, and before that, he had nearly ruined it all by himself. He needed to do better holding onto Shane.

Ilya had lost all sense of time, all sense of anything besides Shane, when Shane shuddered beneath him and came with a gasp. Ilya followed him just a moment later.

“Stay,” Shane murmured, pulling at Ilya and arching his body up against him. Ilya dropped on top of his fiancé, neither of them caring for the mess between them or Ilya’s slowly softening cock still buried in Shane.

***

After taking a shower together—one which didn’t lead to any saved water at all because the temptation of a wet and naked Shane was just too great—they eventually sat down together in the kitchen for breakfast. Shane had his usual protein shake, and for once Ilya chose not to tease him about it while he enjoyed his eggs and sausages. Ilya honestly thought Shane didn’t need the diet he had been subjugating himself to for nearly a year now to improve his performance, but bringing that up always led to arguments.

They ate in silence while sitting on barstools at the island that separated Ilya’s kitchen from the living room. This was another rare treat Ilya had learned to really enjoy in the past four years. In the beginning, during that first year after Ilya had gone to the cottage, when spending any time with each other had still been a little more difficult than now since he had still been in Boston, just enjoying a quiet moment like this had often felt like wasted time. Now, Ilya was convinced one of his favorite things was to just co-exist with Shane in the same room, even if they were both lost in thought or doing their own thing.

It was Shane who broke the silence. “I’m sorry.”

Ilya frowned. “What for?”

“Everything?” Shane shrugged and turned his chair so that he faced Ilya.

His shake was already long gone, and Ilya wondered for a moment if he had waited to speak up until Ilya had finished eating. Ilya put his fork down slowly and ran his tongue over his lips. “I don’t understand.”

“I know I’ve been … I haven’t paid enough attention to the way you struggle,” Shane said slowly. “And I think maybe we’ve both been … avoiding some topics because we knew it would most likely lead to a fight. And we didn’t want to waste the little time we have together with that, right?”

Ilya shrugged. It was true. He had even said as much to Galina, who had questioned that perception of things.

“I’ve been thinking about this since our phone call after Christmas.” Shane swallowed visibly. “The first one after our fight. When you said it had cost us a whole day and night. We’ve both been bottling up all these things. And I hate that. I hated driving back to Montreal that day. I wish I could’ve gone to brood at my parents’ place for a couple of hours and then come home to you. I wish we could’ve at least slept in the same bed that night, even if we maybe didn’t resolve the fight right away.”

Ilya cleared his throat and nodded. He hadn’t even thought about that as a possibility, but now he was filled with an insane longing for that kind of solution. “Maybe we work on that.”

Shane smiled shyly. “Yeah. I think we may have a lot to work on. I … I thought for a while, after that fight, that you might break up with me.”

“What? Never!” Iyla stood and cradled Shane’s face in his hands. He didn’t have the right words in English, not in this moment, so he said in Russian, “You’re my life, Shane. There is no reality where I can see my life without you.”

Shane smiled at him with tears in his eyes. “It is for me same,” he answered in Russian, the words a little broken and jumbled. He sighed and switched back to English. “I feel so selfish. And I’m so sorry for that. You should come out to whomever you want to come out to. I am so sorry that I let my fear push you into this cage.”

“Is okay.” Ilya sighed and leaned their foreheads together.

“It’s not okay,” Shane murmured. He grabbed Ilya’s hips and pulled him between his legs until he could wrap his arms around Ilya’s waist, holding on a little too tightly to be comfortable. “I … I think I should find a therapist, too. Because I don’t think the way I’m afraid of coming out … the way that thought makes everything inside me freeze … is normal. Something there is broken. I am broken.”

Ilya pulled his head back to look at Shane, who lowered his gaze immediately. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you need. But you aren’t broken, sweetheart.”

It was the first time Shane had described how the thought of coming out made him feel. Usually, he had a whole list of arguments about everything that would change for them—mostly their careers ending—when he insisted they couldn’t come out yet, not even to one or two people either of them trusted. Ilya hadn’t even suspected that there was more hidden beneath those arguments, especially not something that was so clearly so painful for Shane.

Shane huffed with a mirthless chuckle and shook his head. “I think I am a little bit broken. Because I know I want us to come out. I never again want either of us to be in a situation where one of us has to wonder if they’ll get the important information about the other. If something had happened to you, the hospital wouldn’t have told me anything!”

“Not true,” Ilya murmured. “David is my emergency contact. Together with Wiebe. He’d have told them to tell you everything.”

Shane stared at him wide-eyed. “I didn’t know.”

Ilya shrugged. “Another upsetting topic, right? But would be easy to explain because of foundation and I don’t have family on this continent. Not family people would recognize as it, at least.”

“Yeah. Wow.” Shane sighed. “I’m glad, though. But still. I meant every word yesterday when I told you that we should come out this summer. And I want that. But I’m still … so fucking afraid of just that thought alone. Sometimes it makes me so afraid I can’t even breathe. I don’t even know why.”

“It’s scary,” Ilya said. “I know it’s scary. And you don’t have a plan. You like plans. They help you.”

Shane nodded.

“So we make new plan,” Ilya said. “And first step in plan is to find therapist for you.”

“How did you find yours?”

Ilya made a face. “There is only one therapist in all of Ottawa who speaks Russian. Just luck I don’t hate her, I think. But we can look at names online for therapists in Montreal.”

“Or maybe here in Ottawa,” Shane murmured and averted his gaze.

Ilya frowned. Ottawa wasn’t that far away from Montreal, but it would still make it more difficult for Shane to attend his appointments. But he saw the kind of tension settle in Shane’s whole posture that had been slowly growing over the past two years or so whenever they talked about his team.

So, Ilya just nodded. “Okay.”

“Who would you want to come out to?” Shane asked. “Maybe … maybe your whole team all at once is not the best choice.”

Ilya flexed his jaw. “You say that because of your team.”

Shane shrugged. “There is no reason for you to make the same mistake I did.”

Ilya didn’t think there was a single person on his team who would have a problem if he came out to them. None of them had a problem with Harris, who was much closer to the team than the Bears’ social media manager had been to his team in Boston.

“Wyatt,” Ilya said instead of arguing for his team. “His sister has wife. He will be fine.” He could deal with baby steps if it made Shane less anxious. “And Bood. Barett knows I am bisexual, but would be nice to tell him about you.”

Shane bit his lip, then he nodded with a wobbly smile. “Yeah, okay. Sounds good.”

“And if I want to tell them about you, too?”

Shane inhaled sharply and pressed his eyes shut. “I … I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

“Wyatt will be at the All-Star weekend, too, right?” Shane whispered.

“Yes,” Ilya said, confused.

“Maybe we can talk to him together then,” Shane murmured. “And maybe … We need to make a new plan. And I don’t know where to start because I don’t know what to expect.”

Ilya groaned and melodramatically dropped his head against Shane’s shoulder before looking back up at him. “You want to talk to dinosaur Hunter?”

Shane chuckled. “I mean, yeah? Who else could tell us what we have to expect from coming out? Ryan couldn’t tell us anything when we asked because he cut all connection to the NHL just when he came out. And doesn’t spend any time online.”

“That means coming out to Hunter,” Ilya said with raised brows.

“Pretty sure he is safe to come out to, considering.”

Ilya nodded. Hunter would be safe, of course. But the comment also gave him another hint of some of the things going on in Shane’s life that they hadn’t talked about. They would have time to talk about it later, Ilya decided. They didn’t have time to talk about everything right at this moment. Even if what they had to talk about was how safe Shane felt with his own team. Or rather, how unsafe.

“I told JJ about you,” Shane said, interrupting Ilya’s thoughts. “I was completely out of it when I heard about the emergency landing. He noticed. I think he was the only one, though. I hope he was the only one. Anyway, he asked me about it. Because he thought I had an unrequited crush on you.”

Ilya laughed. “What? Really?”

Shane rolled his eyes.

Ilya grinned smugly. “Your crush is very requited.”

“That’s what I told him.” Shane blushed deeply. “More or less. He wasn’t very happy about it at first. But he promised he’d be there for me. I hope he’ll come around fully once he gets to know you off the ice.”

“We should invite him to dinner with the Pikes,” Ilya suggested. “Jackie will be on my side.”

Shane blinked, clearly confused for a moment, then he rolled his eyes. “She will! Maybe that’s a good idea.”

“All my ideas are good.”

“Some of your ideas are good.”

Ilya huffed and glared at Shane.

Shane grinned. “We’re going to figure this out.”

“Yes, of course.” Ilya cupped one of his cheeks with his hand again as he kissed him. “We will learn to talk about the bad things, too. And to fight without wasting time.”

“And maybe you can speak Russian to me a little more,” Shane suggested. “I want to be able to always understand you. I feel I haven’t been learning fast enough.”

Ilya frowned. “You learned a lot. Russian is difficult language.”

“I’ve got a lot of the basics. Maybe it will be easier to learn now by using it more. Speaking it more frequently. I know it won’t be the same for you as speaking Russian with Svetlana or other Russians.”

“It will be great,” Ilya promised, in Russian, and hoped it was enough to wipe away whatever doubt Shane had about it.

He enjoyed every moment he could speak even just a little bit of Russian with Shane, and he would happily do it more if Shane wanted to. Ilya had never expected that Shane would learn Russian, and watching him learn over the past years had been an utter delight. He still expected that their default language would remain English, despite those moments when English was too difficult for Ilya. He felt a little overwhelmed now by Shane’s clear intent to get to a point where Ilya could just slip into Russian, knowing that Shane would be able to follow whatever he said.

Chapter 02

Wyatt took the beer Ilya offered, but he didn’t turn his intense gaze from Ilya. “Why are we here? This isn’t exactly like you, Roz.”

Ilya made a face. It was true that the only time he had ever invited anyone to this house had been the Halloween party. This was a place where Shane was supposed to feel safe, too, and ever since Ilya had moved here, it had felt like Shane feeling safe meant no one else could have access to the house. Maybe that was a foolish thought, and he should probably talk about it with Galina at one point.

It had been a week since Ilya had come home to find Shane already here, a week since they had talked about Ilya coming out to some of his teammates. During that week, Shane had changed his mind about coming out to Wyatt together during the All-Star Weekend, so he had told Ilya he could do that now by himself. Ilya wondered if Shane might be too stressed out by the thought of coming out to two people in such a short time period—the All-Star Weekend would be their best chance to talk to Hunter, so they couldn’t put that off if they really wanted his insight. He didn’t think it was necessary, but he wouldn’t argue with Shane about that.

“It’s a little strange,” Troy agreed.

“Want to tell you something,” Ilya said and collapsed onto the couch, placing his feet on the table in a way he knew Shane would complain about if he saw it. But Shane wasn’t there, so he couldn’t complain. “Troy already knows half of it. And guessed the other half.”

Troy exhaled slowly. “Wow.” Then he emptied half his beer in one go. “Okay.”

Wyatt lowered his gaze. “Now I’m worried.”

Ilya shook his head. “Nothing bad. But … is still secret. Needs to be secret for a while longer. But I want to tell you. And the rest of team soon. But small steps is good, yes?”

Troy was still staring at Ilya wide-eyed, but Wyatt nodded with an encouraging smile. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

“I have reputation,” Ilya said slowly. “I earned my reputation.”

Wyatt chuckled. “I wouldn’t know any of that. You haven’t lived up to it since you came here.”

“Is because I came here for special person,” Ilya said. “I very much enjoyed my time with the women when I was in Boston. I very quietly enjoyed time with some men, too. One man especially. Only person I ever fell in love with. Only person I’m going to marry.”

“Marry?” Troy asked in a high-pitched voice.

“Thank you for telling us,” Wyatt said and kicked Troy in the shin.

Troy kicked him back. “I already knew about the boyfriend!” He turned to Ilya. “I didn’t know there was an engagement.”

Ilya grinned and closed his hand around the ring he was wearing right beside his mother’s cross. In some ways, it felt much more meaningful to wear it there than on his finger. “Is new. I came home from our trip of hell to very romantic proposal. And a change of plan. We planned to be secret until we both retire. We don’t want to wait that long anymore.”

“Another player?” Wyatt asked.

Ilya nodded. “He knows I’m talking with you. Was his idea.”

“And is it who I suspected the last time we talked about this?” Troy asked, with a smile now. “Congratulations on your engagement, by the way.”

Ilya grinned. “You will all be invited to wedding, of course! Whole team will be there. I know we can trust our team.” He sneered and took a sip of his beer. “Not like his team.”

“May I know who we are talking about?” Wyatt asked.

“Can I take a picture of his face?” Troy asked with a bright grin.

Wyatt lowered his gaze.

“Is Shane,” Ilya said before Troy could pull out his phone.

“Hollander?” Wyatt asked, flummoxed, and maybe Ilya should’ve let Troy take a picture of his face.

“Yes, that Shane.”

Wyatt fell back against his seat. “Wow. Fuck. Wow!”

“I know, very impressive feat,” Ilya said smugly. “Second best player in league. Only one who can keep up with me. And he is all mine.”

“I want details,” Wyatt said. “All the details.”

“PG details!” Troy intercepted and waved a hand. “Only the PG details.”

Ilya pursed his lips. “I do not know what PG means.”

“You know exactly what it means,” Wyatt said with a laugh. “We don’t need details about the sex, really.”

Ilya laughed. “You are okay with this news?”

“Are you happy?” Wyatt asked.

“Very,” Ilya nodded. It was true. He was happy with Shane, he just wasn’t happy with their circumstances anymore. But that wasn’t what his friend had asked about. “And very in love.”

“Then there is no reason why I shouldn’t be okay with it,” Wyatt said.

“Good. We might need your help with interference on All-Star Weekend,” Ilya said. “Sneaking around has become difficult.”

“How long have you been sneaking around?” Troy asked. “I’ve been wondering about that since New York!”

Ilya raised his brows. “When do you think?”

He had been waiting for ages to challenge someone to guess about this. With Yuna and David, they had missed that chance because they had both been much too nervous about Shane’s parents finding out about them the way they had. Hayden never played along with Ilya’s teasing, and Ryan was much too uncomfortable with the topic as a whole. And Sveta, of course, had figured it all out a long time ago, even though Ilya didn’t think she knew who ‘Jane’ was exactly.

Wyatt and Troy were clearly up for the challenge, and they exchanged a long, thoughtful look.

“All-Star 2017, at least,” Troy said.

Wyatt nodded lowly. “That would make sense. You had insane chemistry working together on the ice. And the timeline would fit with you moving here. I mean, you wouldn’t have uprooted your life for a relationship that was only a couple of months old, right? But one-and-a-half years into a relationship? Makes more sense.”

“Longer,” Ilya said. “Though, All-Star 2017 was when we started…” Ilya waved a hand because the right word was escaping him.

“Being exclusive?” Troy asked.

Ilya nodded. “That. We stopped pretending it was casual. Hadn’t been for a while. But we’re both good at lying. Even to ourselves.”

“So, you were hooking up before that for a while at least,” Troy said thoughtfully.

“Every time we were in the same town,” Ilya admitted. “Boston-Montreal games, All-Star weekends.” Ilya made a significant pause. “Endorsement campaigns we did together.”

“You’ve done ads together?” Wyatt asked, surprised.

“One,” Troy said, gaze lowered. “There has only been one ad they did together.”

“Are you a fan, Troy? I’m very flattered.”

“If I’m a fan of anyone, it would be Hollander,” Troy shot back.

“Is good for you I know who you really have crush on,” Ilya said darkly. “I don’t share.”

Troy looked nervously at Wyatt, but their goalie was too distracted to notice Ilya’s teasing about Harris.

“What ad campaign did you do together with Hollander?” Wyatt asked. “Wouldn’t that have been a big thing with your rivalry? The way the NHL and the press play that up that thing would’ve been a huge deal, right?”

“CCM in 2010,” Troy said. “That can’t be right, though.”

“2010?” Wyatt asked with a frown. “Your rookie season was 2010/2011, wasn’t it?”

“Ha!” Ilya laughed. “You’re both fans! Knowing all those details about me!”

“You’ve been fucking your rival the whole time!” Troy said, sounding shocked and awed at the same time.

Wyatt shook his head. “That can’t be right.”

“Is true,” Ilya said. “NHL doesn’t know Shane or me without being what we are. And soon we will tell the world. After wedding. So I can stay even if NHL fires us and I lose work visa.”

“Right,” Wyatt muttered and dragged his fingers through his hair. “Russia has some really bad laws for queer people.”

“It does?” Troy asked worriedly.

Ilya nodded, his face grim. “Is forbidden to … promote is right word, I think. Forbidden to promote LGBTQ+ lifestyle. Living openly as a bisexual man in a relationship with another man counts as promoting. And I’m public figure. Well-known public figure. I think they would try to make example out of me if I had to return. I have not been back since my father’s funeral for that reason.”

“What would that mean?” Troy asked, pale, his fingers tightly wrapped around his beer.

“Officially, the law says fines. But its words are vague by purpose. Could be prison to make a point. Or labor camp.” Ilya shrugged. “Maybe death eventually. Not official execution, of course. But things happen in prison, don’t they? Fights. Or people get sick and can’t get the right help. Would be good propaganda to show my lifestyle leads to bad end, though.”

“That’s fucked up,” Troy murmured.

“Maybe one day it will be better.” Ilya didn’t believe he would see that day if he was honest. But a part of him still couldn’t stop hoping that maybe he would be able to go home one day, to take Shane with him and show him the places that had been important in his childhood.

“Coming out is dangerous for you,” Wyatt said slowly. “Even more so than because of the bullshit we can expect from the League. I mean, they tolerate Hunter, but he really didn’t give them much of a choice. I know he always says it was an impulse decision, but I think it really was the only way for him to come out without being sidelined for ‘unrelated’ reasons.”

“And at least part of his team supports him,” Troy said. “If Hunter had been in Toronto, he’d have been traded before the team could’ve celebrated that cup win.”

“Toronto isn’t good enough to win cup,” Ilya said dismissively.

Troy rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“You said earlier the Voyageurs wouldn’t come to your wedding,” Wyatt said. “When you said our team would be invited. Does Hollander think they’ll react badly?”

“Shane told them he is gay a couple of years back,” Ilya said and glared at his bottle that was somehow empty. “After end of season in 2018. I think he hides a lot about how bad it is.”

Troy frowned. “So, that’s where the rumors come from.”

“Rumors?” Ilya asked.

Troy nodded. “I’ve repeatedly heard rumors about Hollander being gay. And you know how most of the people in the league talk about that. The kind of chirps he’s had to hear with those rumors from people like Kent.” He turned his head to the side. “From me, at times, when I knew someone else was there to hear.”

“I don’t let people talk that way where I can hear,” Ilya snapped.

“Which is probably why you didn’t hear the rumors,” Wyatt said. “Everyone knows you’re an asshole. Everyone also knows what topics you’ll fight about, and that you practically never lose.”

Ilya grinned proudly for a moment. He had spent years building that reputation. He didn’t exactly call people out for any of their bullshit, at least not those who weren’t his teammates, but he had made a habit out of challenging anyone who talked bullshit where he could hear it.

“And most of the guys don’t stop long enough to think about your assholery to understand that you’re actually a pretty good guy,” Troy said. “Despite knowing what topics to avoid so you won’t make them cry. Anyway, it’s shitty that Hollander came out just to his team and now there are rumors about his sexuality all over the league.”

Ilya nodded. Most of all, it meant that Shane couldn’t trust his team, and Ilya was a little angry at himself that he hadn’t understood that earlier. He wondered if he could make Shane talk about it in any way. Or maybe he could ask Pike about it.

“Crowell requested a meeting with him last time the Voyageurs were in New York,” Ilya said darkly. “He’s been hounding you, too, about Instagram. Crowell is very concerned to pretend problems do not exist. And for Crowell, being gay is problem. Shane said he was told that he shouldn’t even think about coming out.”

“Crowell’s been bothering you?” Wyatt asked, turning to Troy.

Troy shrugged. “He doesn’t like that I post about organizations that help survivors of sexual assault. Even though I haven’t mentioned Kent a single time in any of it. Coach promised me they won’t bench me, even though Crowell has requested it.”

“Fuck that asshole,” Wyatt muttered. “For threatening both you and Hollander.”

“Crowell will be dangerous when you come out,” Troy said. “Especially if the Voyageurs won’t stand behind Hollander.”

“Shane will be free agent after this season,” Ilya said. “I think we will build plans around that. There will be teams who’ll want him, no matter what Crowell says. Everyone knows that Shane is one of best players in league right now.”

“Some would say the best player,” Wyatt said.

Ilya nodded, for once not claiming that spot for himself.

Wyatt looked at him with a hard set to his jaw. “The Centaurs will have your back. Not just the team, but the management, too, I have no doubt about that. That’s one less thing for you to worry about.”

***

Shane didn’t know if he would ever get used to how silent the locker room had become. Especially as there was still a lot of noise going on in a room filled with 20 men who were all riled up in one way or another after any given game or training session. People talked, someone always put on music—Shane knew there was some rotation between the guys about who was in charge, but he had never been part of that because he didn’t care for music and often wished he could escape it in the locker room—and there was the general noise of a group of 20 or more men getting changed.

And still, for the past couple of years, most of the time Shane felt as if he was trapped in an eerie silence in the locker room.

“You good, man?” Hayden asked.

Shane shrugged and glanced around.

There were several conversations going on, one of them about a spectacular goal Boston’s first-line center McLeod had scored two days ago in the Boston-Toronto game. It was the kind of conversation Shane had at one time been all too excited to be part of, the kind of conversation that might have kept him and a couple of guys in the locker room long after everyone else had left, and might have carried over to that group going out for a beer. But Comeau was in the center of that conversation, so Shane bit his tongue.

“I’m good,” Shane said, and focused on packing his bag with the few small things he preferred to bring to the rink himself instead of using what was provided for the whole team. “Do you and Jackie have plans for your free days?”

It had been their last practice before the break for the All-Star Weekend. Most years the only reason he looked forward to that weekend had been because he’d have a chance to meet up with Ilya, though he had never truly admitted that even just to himself until 2017. This year he was looking forward to the break it would give him from the silence in his own locker room.

Hayden watched him intently. “Depends on the availability of the grandparents to babysit. Come over for dinner tonight?”

“I have an early flight tomorrow.”

“Bring your bag and sleep in the guestroom,” Hayden said. “The kids will be happy to get to spend some time with you.”

Shane frowned and concentrated on lacing his shoes, maybe a little too much.

“Please?” Hayden asked quietly. “We get to see so little of you lately. And I understand why, but that doesn’t stop me from missing spending time with you.”

Shane exhaled slowly. “Yeah, okay.”

Hayden grinned. “Great. Come over soon, yeah? We can make a whole afternoon out of it. The twins are at a friend’s place for a birthday party, and Jackie is visiting her brother with Arthur and Amber. So, it’ll be just us until dinner.”

Shane threw Hayden a skeptical look but nodded. This felt a little bit like a set-up, but he was probably too suspicious of his friend. It was true that he hadn’t spent much time with Hayden or his family lately; he hadn’t even had a chance yet to tell him that he and Ilya were engaged. So Shane pushed his suspicion away as he left the locker room, one of the first to do so as had become habit over the past couple of years.

Shane didn’t rush, but he also didn’t linger anywhere as much as he might have if Hayden hadn’t just hijacked his afternoon and evening. His suitcase for the weekend was already mostly packed, so there wasn’t much for him to do at home. Shane found himself at the Pikes’ house just under two hours after he left the rink.

Hayden let him into the house with a sheepish grin, and Shane glared at both of his friends in turn when he found JJ in the living room.

“What is this?” Shane asked.

“Nothing bad, I promise!” Hayden said.

“It is kind of an intervention,” JJ admitted.

Shane lowered his gaze and crossed his arms over his chest. “Intervention?”

“Because we love you, Shane, and we think it’s time we have a kinda difficult conversation,” Hayden said. “I can get you some water? Or ginger ale?”

Shane was very tempted to accept the ginger ale, but he reminded himself that there were good reasons for the diet he was following. “Water.”

Hayden and JJ exchanged a look before Hayden went to the kitchen. Shane kept standing where he was, staring at JJ and wondering what kind of intervention his friends had planned.

“How is Rozanov?” JJ asked.

“Do you really want to know?”

JJ shrugged. “I understand that I’ll have to get used to him. His team is probably pretty rattled. Though, in most of their games lately, it looks more like they found whatever was missing for the last few decades in that team.”

“Nearly dying together does something,” Shane said. “At least that’s what Ilya claims.”

“So, Ilya is good?” Hayden asked as he came back and set Shane’s glass on the coffee table, sitting down beside JJ. “And do you really want to keep standing there?”

“If you want to argue about Ilya, I might just turn around and go back home.”

JJ winced a little bit, but Hayden sighed and shook his head. “It’s not that kind of intervention. I know I keep teasing you with…” He waved a hand and rolled his eyes. “I haven’t really meant anything with that for a while now, you know? He’s certainly never going to be any kind of close friend, but I do see your love for him. And his love for you.”

“Okay.” Shane slowly sat down in the armchair that the twins usually claimed for themselves and refused to let anyone else use. “So, you won’t try to set me up with other guys anymore, JJ?”

“I wouldn’t have tried that if I had known you were in a relationship all along.” JJ rolled his eyes. “Could have saved me a lot of work there, you know?”

Hayden rolled his eyes. “I did try to tell you to stop it, JJ.”

“And I told you I wasn’t interested in any of it over and over again.” Shane sighed. “So, if this isn’t about Ilya, what’s the matter?”

“You’re going to be a free agent after this season,” Hayden said slowly.

Shane made a face and turned his head to the side. He was very much aware of that. “Yeah. Nothing’s been decided about anything yet. But I don’t think I’ll sign another contract with the Voyageurs.”

It was the first time Shane said that out loud. He hadn’t talked with Farah about it yet, hadn’t brought it up with Ilya or his parents. Because that would mean explaining to them why he had changed his mind about staying in Montreal until he retired. And he didn’t know how to talk with any of them about that. Though Farah at least had to suspect something, because as far as Shane knew, the Voyageurs hadn’t been very pressing in their contract negotiations, and Shane had been very vague about anything Farah had asked him about concerning a new contract.

Shane didn’t know how he could explain how the situation in his locker room had changed. He thought of Comeau again and wondered if he and the guys he had been talking to were out grabbing a beer together now, still caught up in their conversation about the most outstanding goals in the history of the NHL. A couple of years back, Shane would’ve been part of the group. But now he couldn’t even remember the last time Comeau had bothered to acknowledge that Shane had even said anything when they weren’t on the ice or the press was around.

Hayden groaned and rubbed both his hands through his hair. “Oh, thank god!”

“What?” Shane’s gaze snapped to his friend with an irritated frown.

“This team doesn’t deserve you, Shane,” JJ said softly. “They’re doing everything they can to destroy you.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Shane said.

Hayden shook his head. “Are we, really?”

“We should’ve stood up for you more, capitaine,” JJ said, gaze turned down. “Hayd and I have been talking since … you know, that day. And we know we fucked up. We should’ve called out everyone for their behavior all along, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

Hayden nodded. “I’m sorry, too.”

“I’m not sure what you could’ve done,” Shane said. “I mean, do you really think anyone would’ve changed what they’re doing and saying because you two called them out on it?”

“Maybe not about how they behave,” Hayden admitted. “Or maybe there would’ve been some guys who’d’ve followed our lead if we hadn’t been silent for the last three years. But even if they didn’t change, at least you wouldn’t doubt that we have your back.”

Shane winced. He couldn’t even deny that, at least with JJ, he had wondered and worried about the fallout once he learned about Ilya. With Hayden, it was easier to trust him because, despite their constant bickering, Hayden had accepted Ilya into his home and as a permanent figure in his children’s lives.

He shook his head and decided that they needed to move on from this part of the conversation. “So, you want me to leave the Voyageurs?” he asked instead.

“In a perfect world, I’d like for everyone else to fuck off and the three of us to build a new team,” JJ said darkly. “But that includes getting rid of the coaches and every trainer. Getting rid of the management. That’s not going to work. But staying will ruin you eventually. I … Sometimes I wonder if Theriault is trying to drive you into some kind of career-ending injury.”

“What?” Shane asked, honestly surprised about that.

Theriault was a hard coach, demanding and unforgiving. But he had always been that way, he hadn’t suddenly become that way after Shane had come out to the team. So, he really couldn’t follow that leap of logic.

“It’s true,” Hayden said bitterly. “He is more critical of you than of anyone else. He runs you harder than anyone else. He blames you for other people’s mistakes, and everyone on the teams knows it.”

“That’s not true,” Shane protested.

“It is,” JJ said. “Hayden says it’s always been that way. Honestly, Hollzy, it was one of the first things I noticed when I joined the team. It taught me what to expect, and I have been on the receiving end of it at times. But it’s become really fucking bad with you this past year or two.”

Shane shook his head. His throat felt too tight to say anything.

“You’re the best fucking player in the whole damn league,” Hayden said, his voice shaking in anger. “It’s not your fucking fault if other players miss passes. If they aren’t where you need them to be, or where you expect them to be. Especially if it’s fucking obvious during practice and even some games when those guys are slacking off on purpose to make you look bad. But somehow, you’re always the one who gets criticized for everything. We shouldn’t have silently let that go on either, man. I’m so sorry that we did.”

Shane couldn’t do anything but concentrate on his breathing. He had put in a lot of work to convince himself he was imagining those things. It had always been like this with the Voyageurs, even when Theriault had still been an assistant coach during Shane’s first three years on the team. Montreal had been a pretty bad team when they had drafted him, and Shane had spent a lot of time telling himself that the pressure they put on him was expected as part of the rebuild and that he couldn’t disappoint them.

Holding onto that lie suddenly felt a lot harder.

“So, yes,” JJ continued. “We want you to find a better team, one that will support you, and show this fucking team that there wouldn’t be a single banner from the past decade hanging up in the rafters without you.”

“Hockey is still a team sport,” Shane protested. “I didn’t get that cup last year by myself.”

“You might as well have,” Hayden said. “I don’t know how we managed to get it, honestly. But at least 90% of it was your focus on proving everyone wrong. You can’t run that way indefinitely, Shane. Eventually, something will give. I don’t want that something to be your health. You deserve so much better than you have gotten over the past couple of years.”

“I can handle it,” Shane hissed through gritted teeth.

“That’s not the point, you stubborn ass!” JJ snapped in French. Then he slipped back to English for Hayden’s sake, “And you know it, too, because you just told us this is your last season with the Voyageurs!”

Shane shook his head. “I think it’s my last season with them because they won’t give me another contract. I … I’ve built my whole career on this team, JJ!”

Hayden frowned. “Management would be crazy not to offer you another contract!”

“I told you about my meeting with Crowell. I’ve been thinking a lot about why he called me in to have this meeting now, why not right away back in 2018 when I came out to the team?”

His friends just stared at him with nearly identical confused frowns.

“I think someone in management thought it would have more impact for that warning to come directly from the NHL instead of from the team. They don’t want me to come out, and this way I’ll get the impression that I wouldn’t have a chance with other teams either if I came out, now that I’m in a position to look.”

“But that’s not true,” Hayden said.

Shane wet his lip. “I can only hope, right?”

“The Admirals would take you,” JJ said. “They stand behind Hunter; they’d stand behind you. Honestly, every fucking team should be overjoyed if you even so much as looked at them.”

“There are teams who wouldn’t take me even if I paid them,” Shane shot back.

Hayden rolled his eyes. “Sure. Idiots like Toronto and Tampa, where you don’t want to go anyway.”

“I’m going to come out when the season is over,” Shane blurted out. “I’m going to tell Theriault next week. I’m convinced he’ll give me an ultimatum, but it won’t change anything. I’m done hiding, and I’m especially done hiding Ilya.”

Saying it aloud still made his insides freeze, and he had to stomp down hard on the impulse to deny everything he had just said. There was a voice screaming in his head to take it all back, but he was getting better at ignoring it.

“We’re going to get married this summer.”

JJ stared at him with his mouth hanging open, and Hayden mirrored that stare for a moment. Then he raised his brows with a grin.

“I heard that you are already married,” Hayden said.

“What?” Now, JJ looked at Hayden as if his world had just ended.

“The twins and Arthur had a whole ceremony for them,” Hayden said. “After Ilya painted my son’s nails.”

“Ilya painted his own nails, too, to show him it was okay,” Shane said and stared at Hayden, daring him to start that argument again. Jackie had been very much on Ilya’s side when she and Hayden had come home from the hospital, and Hayden hadn’t stood a chance against his wife. Shane didn’t know why anyone would want to paint their nails, men or women, so he had just stayed out of it.

Hayden just waved a hand. “Whatever. Fact is, my children will be heartbroken if you tell them you need to have a real ceremony now.”

Shane smiled. “We’ll just tell them it’s a belated celebration with all our friends because they couldn’t be there for the real ceremony. It was a very spontaneous thing, after all. And now everyone is angry at us that we didn’t include them.”

Hayden laughed. “I guess that will work. And at least Jade and Ruby will be happy to have a reason to dress up. To get special dresses for the occasion, even.”

JJ rubbed his hand down his face. “Man, this is so surreal. Why does Rozanov hang out with your children, Hayd?”

“Because he is part of Shane’s deal. And don’t ever tell him I said this, but he is great with kids. Even if he paints my son’s nails. With sparkles!”

“Arthur looked very handsome with the nails,” Shane said with raised brows.

Hayden rolled his eyes.

JJ exhaled slowly. “Okay, let’s come back to the shit show our team is. Before learning all that lore about Rozanov breaks my brain.”

“Is there something to break?” Hayden asked, and JJ flipped him off.

“What’s there to talk about the team?” Shane asked with a shrug. “They suck. But I’ve been living with that for a long time.”

“I think you should stop trying to prove something to them,” JJ said. “You shouldn’t have to give 150% constantly to cover for them. And Hayd and I will stop being silent about their treatment of you.”

“That will do nothing but get you in trouble.”

“You say you can’t hide anymore,” Hayden said. “I can’t stay quiet anymore. The difference is that you had every reason and right to hide. I should’ve never been as quiet as I was. Let the shit hit the fan.”

“And if they try to push you out?” Shane asked. “You can’t just change teams as easily as I can.”

The thought of signing with a different team wasn’t exactly easy for Shane either. Ilya had given up so much so they could live near each other. Depending on where Shane ended up—because while there was the thought in the back of his mind to join the Centaurs, he didn’t dare hope they’d have that much luck—all of Ilya’s sacrifices might be for nothing.

“I have a no-trade clause,” Hayden said. “And just one more year on my contract with the Voyageurs. Jackie and I have already started talking about other teams. It wouldn’t be ideal, but we would make it work.”

“I don’t have a no-trade clause,” JJ said darkly. “But fuck it, let them trade me.”

Shane lowered his gaze. He felt like his whole life was crumbling around him, and that he couldn’t predict what would come after this season made him anxious as fuck. The only thing keeping him upright was holding onto the dream of that life he wanted to build with Ilya. And now, with Hayden and JJ pulling him aside to state their support, it suddenly felt a little bit easier to breathe.

Chapter 03

Ilya arrived at the hotel where all the players were housed for the All-Star Weekend an hour before Shane, so he had already unpacked most of his things for the weekend by the time Shane arrived. By some miracle, Shane had been assigned the room right beside Ilya’s this year—he was pretty sure it was the first time that had ever happened—so it was easy to sneak over to Shane’s room to properly start the weekend. Ilya hoped it would also increase his chances of convincing Shane that they could sleep in the same bed all night for both nights they were here.

After they had showered together, Shane convinced Ilya that it was best to search for Scott Hunter right away to get that conversation over with. So Ilya reluctantly left Shane’s room to go search for the Admiral’s star player. It was Scott who found Ilya instead of the other way around, probably even before Shane had a chance to follow Ilya and go looking for Scott himself. Ilya came out of the elevator and hadn’t decided yet in which direction to turn when a hand settled on his shoulder.

“Hey, Rozanov.”

Ilya turned around with a wide grin. “Scott Hunter! The man I was looking for.”

Scott raised his brows. “You already heard?”

Ilya hesitated for a moment. “Heard?”

“I’ve been looking for you,” Scott said with a shrug. “There’s an idea I’ve been pitching to some other players for the past couple of weeks. Want to go to the bar?”

“Let’s have drinks up in my room,” Ilya suggested. “Maybe a little privacy might be good, yes?”

Scott frowned, but he nodded and followed Ilya into the elevator. Ilya texted Shane that he was bringing Scott to his room, and he should join them. Then he turned his attention back to Scott.

“I can’t decide,” Ilya said after a moment. “Should I be worried that you have an idea? Or excited?”

Scott laughed. “You’re really good at pretending to be an asshole. Took me some time to see through you. Only really realized that you aren’t an asshole when I compared you with Dallas Kent a while ago.”

Ilya glared. “Kent is piece of shit.”

“How is Barrett doing?” Scott asked with a nod.

Ilya lowered his gaze. “Getting head out of his ass a little more every day.”

There was a lot more to the journey Troy had taken since he had been traded to Ottawa months ago. But none of that was Ilya’s story to share, so he kept his mouth shut. Troy hadn’t turned out to be as horrible of a person as he had appeared to be for a long time, but he would have to prove that to everyone else by himself.

Scott grinned. “Good.” Then the grin dropped, and he eyed Ilya seriously. “More people from the league should stand with him.”

“Not easy,” Ilya said. “Commissioner Crowell had a talk with him. Very unsupportive talk.”

Scott frowned. “I’d like to say I’m surprised, but that would be a lie. Was it about Troy’s Instagram account and the focus he chose to give it?”

Ilya nodded. “Our management supports him. They’re backing him up.”

“That’s good,” Scott said.

“Is scary stepping up knowing no one else will. Knowing many people might not have your back.”

Scott sighed. “It is, no matter what the topic. Sometimes it feels like a dangerous thing to do, right? But there is strength in numbers.”

“Is that your idea?” Ilya asked.

Scott nodded. “Yes. Build a group of players, coaches, management, maybe retired players, support staff, who will speak up against all the things that are still wrong despite the League claiming we’re changing. A group that others can turn to for support in whatever way we can provide. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but the thing with Kent and Barrett finally made me see that we desperately need something like this.”

Ilya nodded slowly. “Good idea. Will take time to establish. And work. More work than you might be able to do during season.”

“That’s the second reason I was looking for you or Hollander to talk about this idea,” Scott said. “The first reason is, of course, that I’d like both of you to join us. But you also run a charity together.”

“You are doing a lot of charity work yourself,” Ilya said. “A lot of activism for LGBTQ+ community.”

Scott chuckled. “Yes. But none of it is my own. I’ve been supporting other people’s organizations. I stepped into existing infrastructures, and I’m not running any of them. Hollander and you built something from the ground up. That’s a different experience, a different set of skills.”

“We’ll help,” Ilya promised.

Scott raised his brows. “You’re talking for both of you now?”

“Sometimes.” Ilya grinned and winked at Scott. “Sometimes Hollander does talking.”

Scott laughed and shook his head.

“Let’s get drink,” Ilya said. “To celebrate your new project. Crowell will be very unhappy.”

Scott still laughed. “You don’t sound sad about that.”

“Am not,” Ilya agreed. “Making Crowell unhappy sounds like perfect hobby.”

He led Scott out of the elevator and towards his room. Shane was already waiting in front of the door, and Scott only acknowledged that with a raised brow when Ilya unlocked it.

“Sit.” Ilya gestured to the table by the windows. “I brought real vodka. You don’t get that here. Have to import it.”

“And suddenly this feels like an ambush,” Scott muttered.

Shane smiled tightly and fidgeted in his seat for a moment. “It’s not meant as an ambush. We’d like your advice about … something. You probably got a lot of anonymous messages three years ago. Thanking you for your bravery and courage. I … One of those was from me.”

Scott blinked, then he smiled warmly. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Thank you for taking that first step,” Shane said.

“I thank you, too,” Ilya said and put two glasses and the vodka bottle on the table. Then he placed a can of ginger ale in front of Shane. “That night changed a lot for us. Gave hope. Convinced us we could be an us.”

“More than we had already been for years at that point,” Shane continued.

Scott stared at them, his mouth hanging slightly open now, while his gaze drifted from Shane to Ilya and back again several times.

Ilya grinned at the dumbfounded look. “Need that vodka now?”

Scott cleared his throat. “Yes. And once more, thank you for your trust.”

“We wanted to ask you about your experience coming out,” Shane said while Ilya filled the two glasses with vodka. “About the things you would have liked to know before, if you could get a second run at it. It’s become difficult … impossible to keep us a secret. But coming out is a concern. I know it will be very different for us than for you. Because we won’t be the first ones. But we’ll still be…”

“Everyone thinks you’re rivals on the ice,” Scott said. “Most people assume you can barely stand each other off of it despite your charity. I assume that was a soft launch of your relationship?”

“Was to break image of rivalry,” Ilya said. “And to spend time together. Plan was to be this way until we retire from hockey.” He tapped his fingers against the table beside his glass. “But we’re going to marry in the summer. Because we don’t want to wait anymore. Hiding husband is different than hiding boyfriend. We don’t want to do that.”

Scott laughed. “Wow, okay. You just have to one-up me, do you?”

Shane frowned. “That’s not…”

But Ilya interrupted him with a grin. “Yes, exactly! Shane and I are only going to marry to do better than you. No other reason. Maybe also for Canadian passport for me. But that’s much less important than you.”

Shane sighed and rolled his eyes.

Scott nodded slowly, still grinning, but also looking thoughtful now. “When I did it, coming out felt like the easiest choice I had ever made. I had been planning to come out after the season because … I didn’t want to put Kip through hiding the way we had been doing for months. But I hadn’t planned to do it right there while celebrating the Stanley Cup.”

Ilya nodded. “Winning was big surprise, I understand. Could hardly plan for that.”

Instead of taking the bait, Scott laughed loudly again. At the same time, Shane kicked Ilya’s ankle under the table.

“Whatever you say, Roz,” Scott said. “You weren’t anywhere near the cup that year. And you can’t be that interested in lifting it again, what with moving to Ottawa. I assume to be near Shane, right?”

Ilya shrugged.

After a moment, Scott’s laughter died down. He watched them, then sighed. “Coming out changed everything. Not in the way I was expecting. My coach was supportive, most of my team was. And I had come out to them a little while before that game. But I still thought my time in the NHL might be over. I was prepared to accept that for Kip, no matter how much it hurt.”

“Other players who came out after you found out that their time in the League was over,” Shane said quietly. “Baldwin and Lundin. And both Price and Bennett came out and immediately retired.”

Ilya shook his head. “Ryan was always open about being gay. But he was quiet about it. And biggest defenseman in League. No one dared to confront him. But Shane’s point stands. Coming out can and most likely will end careers.”

“Not yours,” Scott said. “I hate to admit it, but you’re the two best players in the NHL right now. Any idea how your teams will react?”

“My team will be great,” Ilya said, and threw a worried glance at Shane. “They will support me. Everyone.”

Shane shook his head. “I came out to my team a while ago. About being gay, at least. It’s been difficult with a lot of them since. And … someone contacted Roger Crowell to warn him, I guess, about my homosexuality. So he asked me to come in for a conversation in November and basically warned me against getting ideas that coming out publicly might be an option.”

“I can just hear his tone when he said ‘homosexuality’,” Scott muttered and ran a hand over his face. “I’ve heard that tone too often from him. He isn’t happy about me. If he could, he would probably have kicked me out of the NHL. But he knows he can’t without looking terrible.”

“So, he is enemy,” Ilya said. “I already suspected after he called Troy.”

“The Voyageurs won’t support me,” Shane said. “Once this season is over, I’ll be a free agent. I’ll be able to sign with whomever I want. With that, it will be a perfect time to come out. I know I’ll get multiple offers, and we’ll know exactly what all those teams really think when we see who pulls back once we come out together.”

“You need a social media manager,” Scott said. “Like, yesterday. It took me way too long to understand that. Opinions are built on the internet now. You need someone whose whole job it is to read every single comment and message you receive and keep the ugly parts away from you. And forward the very, very ugly parts to the authorities. And help you figure out how to react to all the rest.”

Ilya nodded slowly. He knew he wouldn’t have understood what Scott was talking about, might have even laughed about it, before he moved to Ottawa. But he had seen what kind of work Harris did for nearly three years now, and he had experienced the kind of reach that work had.

“Harris does a good job for the Centaurs.”

“Do you think we could ask him for recommendations?” Shane asked. “Obviously, he has a job already. But maybe he can give us some pointers and provide some contacts.”

“We will ask,” Ilya agreed.

“How many people know about the two of you?” Scott asked softly.

Ilya shared a look with Shane.

“Less than ten, I think,” Shane answered after a moment. “Until the summer after you celebrated winning the cup by coming out, no one did.”

Scott whistled lowly. “I’m a little amazed that you managed to keep this a secret for such a long time. May I ask how long?”

Ilya grinned. He enjoyed this part most of all, and he couldn’t imagine that would ever stop. “From the very beginning.”

Once again, Scott stared at them, clearly lost for words. It took over a minute—not that Ilya was counting— before Scott cleared his throat. “Wow. I think I need to readjust everything I thought I knew about the two of you.”

“How bad was the backlash after you came out?” Shane asked.

Scott made a face and took a long drink from his glass. Ilya filled it up as soon as Scott set it down on the table.

“You and Barrett are not the only ones who’ve had ugly conversations with Roger Crowell,” Scott said. “You’ll be faced with some very ugly opinions, on and off the ice. With some players, like Kent for example, the homophobia took on a new level after I came out. Or maybe it just feels like that because it feels very targeted now. And there are more refs who ignore it than there are those who do something about it.”

Shane nodded slowly, his gaze turned downwards. Ilya reached out and took his hand. He knew that Shane had experienced that with a couple of his teammates already, most likely even a lot more than Ilya knew about. The thing Ilya hated most about it was that they couldn’t do anything. Because no matter what the NHL told the world, they only enforced the rules about diversity if there was pressure to do so—and most of the time there wasn’t.

“You asked earlier what I’d like to have known before I came out,” Scott said. “And the backlash it would cause, that was something I did know to expect. I’ll support you. And I’ll make sure the Admirals will support you. We’ll see where the rest will fall. There is something I wish I could’ve prepared myself for, though.”

Scott sighed and turned the glass between his fingers with a frown. “You mentioned earlier the work I do for the community. I stumbled into that by accident, and I think the only reason I didn’t make some big misstep right out of the gate was that I had Kip and his friends. How much do either of you know about the queer community?”

“Not much,” Shane admitted with a frown.

“I learned more since you came out,” Ilya said. “The Scott Hunter Night and my visits to the Kingfisher with you aren’t my only experiences in gay clubs or queer spaces. Shane and I went on a double date with Ryan and his Fabian last year. But those are just … moments, not knowledge.”

Scott nodded. “That’s what hiding does to us, right? With how well-known we all are in certain circles, it doesn’t feel safe to go anywhere you could be recognized, does it? Before I met Kip, I’d spend my summers in Europe, where I had at least some kind of anonymity. But even there, I barely ever dared to linger in any gay clubs or to spend more time with my hookups than was necessary.”

Scott dragged his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “So, I came out very publicly, and suddenly there were very high expectations on me from a community I … couldn’t feel a part of because I hadn’t ever allowed myself to even see the possibility of taking part in that community. The people I know personally are great, have always been great from the beginning. But there are people who expected me to become their icon in hockey without any regard for me as a person.

“And I understand their enthusiasm. Things might be better here than they are in other places,” Scott looked at Ilya for a moment with a sad smile, “but they’re far from perfect, or sometimes even just good. And change will only come when people stand up and fight for it. Especially people in positions who have the pull I have. That you have.

“But I wasn’t prepared. I mean, I knew, of course, that I’d have a lot of eyes on me if I came out as the first active NHL player. And a part of me did hope it would make it easier for anyone coming after me. But that wasn’t what I was thinking about, was it? All I thought about was how miserable I had been feeling for a really long time, and how much had changed for me after I met Kip and foolishly allowed myself to fall in love with him. And I thought that I’d rather lose hockey than lose Kip, but that I didn’t want to disrupt the season for my team either. And I thought about how afraid I was about coming out, about people’s reactions.”

Ilya nodded with a deep frown. As much as he didn’t want to hide anymore, as much as hiding how much he loved Shane had become a burden, the fear of what would happen once they came out was still very much all-consuming. He looked at Shane, who was staringd at Scott, his face pale and lips pressed into a thin line.

Scott shrugged. “I didn’t think about the expectations I’d have to face as a gay icon. And that’s what I became just by coming out. Even if I hadn’t brought Kip out on the ice that day, if I had come out quietly through some announcement on Instagram or whatever, I’d still have been the first active player in the NHL to come out. No way of getting around being some kind of icon.”

Shane rubbed his hand over his face. “I just want to live my life without hiding.”

Ilya nodded and moved his chair so he was sitting with his leg pressed against Shane’s.

Scott smiled and looked utterly exhausted. “I know exactly what you mean. And I guess what I want to say in the end is that you should be able to do that. We should all be able to do that. The thought of coming out shouldn’t make us freeze in fear. And having come out, none of us should be pressured about how we deal with it afterwards. But that’s not the world we live in. The community will have expectations of you. And I know all the things I’ve been doing over the past three years are so very important. As your conversation with Crowell proved, Shane.

“But that doesn’t mean you have to do anything about it. I enjoy the work I’m doing, even though I felt in the beginning that I didn’t have any other choice, that I needed to do this to prove that I’m … that I deserve to be part of the community. That I deserve the right to call myself gay. It was a bullshit situation, and it took me some time to work through feeling like a fraud if I didn’t endorse every single LGBTQ+ project that’s out there because I have the financial means and the publicity to cause change. Take the time over the next couple of months and decide what you want to do. How involved do you want to be in any of it in the beginning? It’s not a decision for life; you can always change your mind later on. Maybe it will be easier for you than it was for me if you have the time to decide what you want to do about it before you’re in the limelight for being gay.”

“Bisexual,” Ilya said.

Scott raised his brows in question.

“I’m bisexual,” Ilya said. “Not gay.”

Scott nodded with a smile. “Great. So, before you’re in the limelight for being gay and bisexual. And in love with your rival.”

“And there is no way to avoid the limelight,” Shane muttered. “Not for us.”

Scott laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think there is a chance for that. Not with the tale of your rivalry out there. But as much as it will suck, being loud about who you are can also be your friend.”

“I don’t want to be a fucking icon,” Shane said through gritted teeth.

Ilya squeezed his hand.

“I’m sorry if this sounds insensitive, but aren’t you already?” Scott asked.

Shane glared at him, but Scott just met that gaze with raised brows.

Eventually, Scott shrugged. “As I said, I think it should be your choice. And you have months to plan how to come out, so you have time to decide what you want to do. Just remember that being loud about who you are can be useful, no matter how annoying it can be at the same time.”

***

Shane stared out the window of Ilya’s hotel room through a crack where Ilya hadn’t closed the blinds completely. It was dark in the room, and the outside was illuminated by the lights of a big city at night. It made Shane miss their cottage, where there was no artificial light left once they turned off the lights.

He couldn’t sleep, no matter how exhausted he felt. The day had been long and spent with too many players Shane usually only saw when he played against them. And they had only just arrived for the weekend, so Shane had to survive two more days of this.

“You’ll lose tomorrow,” Ilya murmured. “Going to the rink without sleep.”

Shane sighed and rubbed his cheek against Ilya’s bare chest. “I’ve played under worse conditions. You’re the only one to really challenge me here anyway.”

Ilya hummed.

“I’m going to leave the Voyageurs,” Shane said quietly.

Ilya was silent for a moment, but he rubbed his hand over Shane’s back. Then he said quietly, “They’re worse than you’ve shared.”

It wasn’t a question, and Shane swallowed heavily. Clearly, he hadn’t been as good at hiding this as he had convinced himself over the years.

“Have you told Farah?” Ilya asked.

“Not yet,” Shane murmured. “I’m going to call her after the weekend. Hayden and JJ pointed out some things to me.”

“Like you’re carrying team without getting the support you need?” Ilya asked. “Is more obvious in some games than others, but I’ve seen it.”

“Yeah.” Shane bit his lip and sighed when Ilya pressed a kiss into his hair. “I honestly don’t understand anymore how we managed to get the cup last time.”

“There were a couple pretty bad injuries in other teams that helped your team,” Ilya said. “I didn’t see on the ice that your team was … breaking like I do this year. So that’s gotten worse.”

“Feels like it has been worse for a long time.”

“I’m sorry,” Ilya murmured.

Shane huffed. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It was my decision to come out to them.”

“Do you wish you hadn’t?”

“Sometimes,” Shane admitted. “But it’s also shown me the truth about them. The other players and management. It’s good that it happened before I signed another contract for however many more years with them.”

“They’re idiots,” Ilya muttered. “They never deserved you. And you deserve so much better.”

“We’re going to be on the same team tomorrow again,” Shane murmured.

“Can’t wait to show everyone why we’re the best, once again,” Ilya gloated.

Shane grinned for a moment. “Do you ever think about playing together for real?”

“All the time, even before All-Star 2017. Hated how they invented new ways to keep us on separate teams every year.”

“They wanted to capitalize on our rivalry,” Shane murmured. “I hated it, too. I wanted to know what it would be like to play with you from the first time I saw you play. And then we did, and it was the best hockey ever. I sometimes … imagine winning the cup together with you.”

Ilya’s hand on his back stilled. “We could make the Centaurs into legend. We’ve already got the best goalie in the league. Bood and Barrett are great wingmen. Haasy is growing into his game. Between you and me, everyone would hate and fear our first and second line.”

“Oh, so, you’d give up playing first line?” Shane asked with a laugh.

Ilya slapped his back lightly. “In your dreams, Hollander. Second-best player of the league gets second line on best team in league. Sounds like fair deal for you.”

“I’m not sure the Centaurs can actually afford me, on top of you and Barrett,” Shane murmured. “But it’s a nice dream.”

“I thought maybe you were thinking about the Centaurs when you looked for therapist in Ottawa,” Ilya said so quietly Shane could barely hear him.

“You’re there, Mom and Dad are there.” Shane sighed and bit his lip, trailing random patterns over Ilya’s chest with his fingers. “I thought it would be nice if I could come home to you or my parents’ place after a session. Depending on my mood.”

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask…” Shane exhaled slowly. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me. But I’ve been wondering what made you start. Going to therapy, I mean.”

Ilya didn’t answer right away. Instead, he shifted, pushing Shane to the side until he could wrap all his limbs around him and press his face against Shane’s throat. Something inside Shane broke a little at that reaction, and he didn’t know what else to do besides hug Ilya back tightly. He pressed a kiss to Ilya’s hair and rocked them slowly back and forth.

Then, Ilya whispered in Russian, “Sometimes, I’m like Mama.”

Shane felt as if the rug had been pulled out from under him, and he inhaled sharply, holding onto Ilya a little more tightly.

“Not as bad as she was,” Ilya continued, still in Russian. “But she wasn’t so bad from the very beginning, was she? I think I remember when it got really bad, a year or two before she…” He shuddered in Shane’s arms. “I don’t want it to become as bad as it was for her. And then you asked that one time. Said that maybe I should get help. When I couldn’t even tell you how sad I sometimes really was.”

Shane swallowed against the lump in his throat. “What do you need?”

Ilya huffed. “I don’t know. Would be easier if I knew. Or if there was a fast fix. But there isn’t.” He added something else, but Shane only caught a couple of the words, and he couldn’t make sense of it.

Shane bit his lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand the last part.”

Ilya sighed and was silent for a long time. Shane pressed another kiss into his hair and rubbed a hand over Ilya’s back. This was just one more sign that Shane needed to put more effort into learning Russian. He needed to be able to understand Ilya in moments like this, when he was struggling with his English, instead of putting another burden on him.

“Is difficult,” Ilya finally said in English. “Doesn’t feel like help yet. Feels worse at first. Right after seeing Galina. Takes time. We know from work with Foundation.”

“Yeah,” Shane whispered. “I’m proud of you for starting to see someone, you know? And I’m proud that you keep going even though it’s hard.”

Ilya shrugged.

“Thank you for telling me,” Shane continued. “I don’t remember if I said that when you told me before. Thank you for trusting me.”

Ilya nodded silently.

Shane was pretty sure he hadn’t reacted as understanding and supportive as he should have. He still felt the shock of that revelation, especially as it had come in the wake of their fight on Christmas. He wished they could’ve had that conversation in person, in a quiet moment with nothing else distracting them.

But that was all the problems of their situation highlighted at once, wasn’t it? They didn’t have such quiet moments outside of the summer, and with the work for the Irina Foundation, that time was still limited during the summer. Last summer, they hadn’t even managed to get two full weeks of time alone at the cottage.

“Will you tell me when you know what you need?” Shane asked. “Even if you can’t put it in the right words. We’ll figure it out together.”

“You, too,” Ilya said, his voice rough. “You tell me what you need, too.”

“I’ll try,” Shane murmured, because that was the best promise he could give.

Ilya huffed. “Will try, too.”

Shane smiled helplessly into the dark. “Then we have a deal.”

“Sleep now,” Ilya demanded. “Need to prove to everyone tomorrow how bad they are compared to us. We need to be well rested for that.”

Shane chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, okay.”

Chapter 04

Dinner with Yuna and David had become something that Ilya valued very much in his life. His very first time meeting them as Shane’s boyfriend back in the summer of 2017 had been a little rough, but it had taken them no time at all to accept him into their life, to accept him as part of their family. And that meant family dinner and family lunch at least once a week if he was in town, half the time even without Shane, especially during the season.

This evening, just two days after the All-Star weekend, it was the four of them together in the Hollanders’ house with a meal that David had cooked for them. Ilya enjoyed this time just as he always did, but he knew Yuna and David didn’t miss that both he and Shane were anxious about something. Thankfully, they didn’t ask until after the meal and after Ilya and Shane had insisted on taking over cleaning the kitchen.

It was Yuna who eventually broke, “Will you tell us what is going on?”

Shane lowered his gaze and fidgeted with his hands, his shoulders growing visibly tense.

So Ilya said, “We’re engaged.”

That caused a moment of silence, and for a tiny moment, Ilya started to fear their reaction. Then David took Yuna’s hand as they both smiled at them. “We’re very happy for you,” David said.

“And we don’t want to hide anymore,” Shane added hastily, staring at a point on the table instead of at his parents.

Yuna sighed and smiled that sad smile she always had when their plans about staying hidden until they retired came up. “We thought you’d reach that point sooner or later,” she said softly.

“We’ll support you in whatever you do,” David promised. “We’ll always support you.”

“Hiding has become very painful,” Ilya said slowly, which earned him nods and sad smiles from Shane’s parents. “Coming out will be difficult. We know that. People will talk. People will be full of hate. But still better than hiding.”

Yuna seemed to want to say something, but Shane cleared his throat. “And I’m going to leave the Voyageurs.”

Ilya put his hand on the small of Shane’s back to give him something to ground himself on and watched Shane’s parents carefully. The news about the Voyageurs made them freeze. They had both expected that this would be the part of their news that would be the most shocking for them.

“What?” Yuna asked. “Why would you…”

David tugged on her hand, and she inhaled sharply. They exchanged a look, and Ilya wished he could be privy to their silent conversation.

Shane huffed. “Come on, Mom. You know they haven’t exactly been enthusiastic about discussing a new contract with Farah. And JJ and Hayden pointed something out to me that … I was kind of aware of but didn’t really put in the proper context.”

David frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Shane looked up, though he still wasn’t meeting Yuna’s gaze. “You know all the statistics, Mom. Probably better than I do. JJ and Hayden talked to me last week, and I’ve been looking at the data ever since. It’s become pretty clear right there for everyone to see that my team does not support me out there on the ice. My defensemen don’t protect me, and that’s become gradually worse, so I didn’t really … notice it as something intentional.”

Ilya scowled. He didn’t have a chance to watch any of Shane’s games live, and most of the time he only watched highlight reels. He had noticed that the team wasn’t working together the way they had in the past, but he hadn’t noticed that it was that bad.

“Half of the time, no one is there for me to pass to,” Shane continued through gritted teeth. “Most of the time, I just push on by myself and try to score to compensate for that. So far, that’s kept my points just slightly lower than they have been in other seasons.”

“Are you sure?” Yuna asked, her voice shaking.

Shane glared at her. “Yes, I’m sure. JJ and Hayden are sure. I’ll ask Theriault for a meeting after our next practice to tell him that I’m coming out publicly in the summer, no matter what the team says. I expect he’ll give me an ultimatum.”

“You’re going to record that conversation,” Yuna said.

Shane nodded. “Yeah. I remember what you told me about any conversation I have going forward after my meeting with Crowell in November. Also, I’m not the only one he’s been trying to intimidate. Hunter said he’s had similar conversations with Crowell.”

“And he tried to threaten Troy Barrett over the links he is sharing on Instagram,” Ilya added. “Threatening players who don’t fit his … ah … picture of the perfect hockey player seems to be a hobby. Crowell will be very unhappy about our news.”

David snorted. “You look a bit too excited about that, Ilya.”

Ilya just shrugged.

Shane watched his mother warily. “Could you look up those statistics? Put them together in a presentable way? I think … The Voyageurs management doesn’t want me to come out. I’m convinced the team wishes I’d never come out to them. But they’ve built the team on my back. They have to know my leaving will be really bad for their game.”

“Should’ve treated you better,” Ilya said darkly.

Boston had been similar when Ilya had played for them. A lot of their gameplay had depended on Ilya, and the people they had brought onto the team after 2010 had been picked to support Ilya’s game. The new rookies had been trained to support Ilya’s game. The first season after Ilya had left Boston, the Bears had paid for that, but they had managed to come back from that pretty fast. Right now, Ilya hoped the Voyageurs were even more dependent on Shane being on the ice so they would feel the loss next season all the more, and for several seasons to follow.

Shane sent him a quick, sad smile. “I think publicly, they’ll try to blame me for leaving. That I did something unforgivable that has nothing to do with coming out. Part of our plans needs to be to counter that narrative if they try anything. I can’t make anyone see what the locker room is like. But what’s happening on the ice is right there for everyone to see. They just need to get the right context, so they know where to look for the signs.”

Yuna’s frown deepened. “You really think they will play that dirty?”

Ilya flexed his jaw but didn’t say anything. He knew Yuna had been a fan of the Voyageurs long before Shane had been drafted by them. Sometimes he wondered how she would have reacted if Shane had been drafted first and gone to Boston. As disappointed as Shane had been about being the second draft pick instead of the first, Ilya was pretty sure that, for the longest time, Shane had been much happier about playing for Montreal than he would have been playing for Boston.

“Yeah.” Shane stared at her darkly. “You know the GM. You know the rest of management. You know Theriault. They’ll want to make the franchise look good. And that means making me look bad. And we’ll give them a ton of ammunition when we make our relationship public.”

“Your work to lessen the rivalry in the press has been pretty successful,” David pointed out.

“Yeah, sure.” Shane shrugged. “But it’s not forgotten. Especially not by the fans in Montreal. Hell, half of them hate Ottawa more than Boston now, just because Ilya plays as a Centaur now. I bet it won’t take five minutes before the first people will wonder how many games we manipulated for each other.”

Yuna shook her head. “That’s bullshit.”

“It was the first thing you asked!” Shane snapped.

Yuna flinched, and Ilya stared at Shane wide-eyed. He remembered that question from Yuna, but he hadn’t really taken it seriously because the thought alone was ridiculous. Beating Shane was one of the most amazing things he could do on the ice, and he knew it was the same for Shane. Ilya hadn’t known that the comment had cut so very deep for Shane.

“JJ at least stopped himself halfway through the question,” Shane said through gritted teeth. “But if my own mother thinks I’m capable of throwing games, the fans who don’t know me—no matter what they think, and who’ll already be angry at me—won’t need much to jump to that conclusion!”

Yuna sat with her back ramrod straight and her gaze lowered. “I’m sorry, Shane. I should’ve never said that.”

“It just highlights what we need to expect, right?” Shane said with a shrug.

“No. Shane, I … I know better. I…”

“Yuna,” David interrupted her softly. “Later.”

Yuna frowned and watched Shane for a moment, but then she nodded. Ilya bit his lip and rubbed small circles on Shane’s back. There would be a conversation about this later, between just Shane and Yuna, he knew that. He knew it was how Shane preferred to hash out any conflict with either of his parents: in private, just one on one. Ilya didn’t understand that dynamic, but he knew Shane was safe with his parents in those conversations in a way Ilya had never felt with his own father, and that was enough.

“Statistics about our games will tell truth there,” Ilya said, because Yuna just as much as Shane thrived on having projects, having plans to follow. “Maybe a second project for you, Yuna?”

She smiled shakily at him. “Yeah, of course. I’ll have a PowerPoint presentation ready before you know it.”

Shane stared at her for a moment, then he turned his head to the side. “We don’t have a new plan ready yet. Rose told me a while ago that we should have a plan B. In case we’re outed. She is probably right.”

“We will talk with Harris soon,” Ilya said. “The Centaurs’ social media manager. To ask his advice. And maybe a recommendation for a social media manager for us.”

“That’s a good idea,” Yuna agreed with a hurried nod.

“What’s your timeline for the wedding?” David asked.

“Summer,” Shane said with a smile and leaned his shoulder against Ilya’s. “Before the camps, probably.”

Yuna huffed. “That is not a lot of time to book a venue! Most of them will be booked out until next year at least!”

“Maybe we do something small,” Ilya suggested. “We can have wedding at home. My backyard is big and private. We only invite friends who deserve to be there. Not people we think…”

“Would feel obligated to come,” Shane supplied the words that were escaping Ilya.

“Yes, that.” Ilya nodded. “No sponsors. No one from management of any team. It is party for us. Not for anyone else. Small is good.”

“Small is perfect,” Shane agreed.

Yuna sighed deeply, the battle she was going through clear on her face. But in the end, she only nodded. “Okay, we can do that. We just want you two to be happy with whatever is going to happen.”

***

Shane hadn’t ever felt as nervous as the moment when he stepped into Theriault’s office. Right before training had started, he had asked his coach for a meeting, and Theriault had already looked unhappy about even just the request. But he had told Shane to come by the office an hour after training finished, so Shane had taken his time to get showered and changed. JJ and Hayden had stayed back with him, but everyone else had left long ago.

“Hollander,” Theriault said. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a personal meeting?”

Shane frowned, trying to make sense of Theriault’s sarcastic tone. There had been a time when Shane had been convinced that he had a good working relationship with the coach and everyone on the coaching team, and the realization of how wrong he had been about that still hurt. It had come mere weeks after he had come out to the team, and Shane still wondered how he could’ve missed how little regard Theriault really had for him before that.

“I’ve made some plans I thought I should let you know about,” Shane said, squaring his shoulders. The coach hadn’t offered him a seat, but Shane was more comfortable doing this while standing anyway. “I’m in the process of preparing a statement to publicly come out.”

“No,” Theriault said. “You will definitely do no such thing.”

Shane gritted his teeth for a moment. “With all due respect, Coach, you have no say in that. There is nothing in my contract that gives you or anyone on this team the right to make that decision for me.”

Theriault glowered at him. “Your contract ends this summer. If you want to have any chance of signing a new contract with this team, you will stay quiet. And I’ll make sure we fix that missing clause.”

“I thought you’d say that,” Shane said with a small nod.

Theriault crossed his arms over his chest with a humph. “So, is this some kind of attempt to get better conditions for your contract, then? By trying to give us some kind of pointless ultimatum?”

“No. I just wanted to let you know so you and management can make an informed decision about any contract you offer me,” Shane said.

“No one is going to offer you a contract again if you insist on dragging your dirty laundry out for all the world to see. Your career will be over.”

There was no heat in the words, not even false regret. All Shane heard in his coach’s tone was loathing and disgust.

“There are teams who’ll be happy to have me,” Shane said confidently. “Scott Hunter is doing pretty well with the Admirals.”

“This league doesn’t need a second Scott Hunter,” Theriault snapped. “There should’ve never been a first one! But at least Hunter being a fag is the only thing he has going against him.”

Shane gritted his teeth. He had learned a long time ago to keep his opinion to himself when a coach started going off, long before anyone had really started expecting him to get drafted to the NHL. Many people had taken one look at him and decided he wasn’t worth the space he took up on the ice. Sometimes it was difficult for Shane to understand how people expected him to react, but with hockey it had always been pretty clear. The calmer he was, the more collected he was, the better he played, the less they talked about how someone like him didn’t belong on the ice.

“This team, this franchise has made you into the person you are, Hollander,” Theriault continued. “You’re nothing outside of the Voyageurs. We won’t let you use the cup as leverage, the way Hunter did, if you insist on this foolish behavior. We won’t let you take this team down with you.”

Shane nodded slowly and made a decision he had been toying with ever since JJ and Hayden had ambushed him. He wouldn’t carry the game for the Voyageurs anymore, the way he had done for a long time now. Shane knew his worth, even though Theriault had never acknowledged it. He had swallowed down similar comments about the risk the Voyageurs had taken when giving him a chance by drafting him for years, but he was glad to have one of those comments on record now.

“I guess this is my last season as a Voyageur then,” Shane said.

Theriault leaned over the table. “Management and I will make sure it’s your last season in the League, period, if you decide to turn your back on us. We made you who you are—we can unmake you just as easily.”

Shane nodded. “I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

“Think very carefully about your next steps, Hollander!”

Shane turned on his heels without another reply. It took some effort to close the door to the coach’s office quietly. He honestly didn’t know what he had expected from the meeting, other than guaranteeing there wouldn’t be an offer for a new contract. His coach’s words shouldn’t sting as much as they did anymore, after all this time, after all the variations he had heard them in. And still, he felt as if his heart was shattering as he walked through the building that had been something of a second home for the past decade, knowing that his days here were numbered.

JJ and Hayden were waiting for him in the parking lot. Without saying a word, they corralled him into the backseat of Hayden’s car and then drove in silence to JJ’s place. As soon as they were inside, Shane opened the recording he had made, emailed it to Farah and his mother, and then tossed the phone to Hayden. He really didn’t need to hear that conversation a second time, so he vanished into JJ’s kitchen and pretended to look for something to eat while JJ’s cursing grew louder, until he finally heard the faint noise of the recording ending.

“I didn’t think he’d be that direct,” Hayden said darkly when Shane returned to the living room empty-handed.

JJ threw him a look. “I’m kind of amazed he wasn’t more direct.”

Hayden frowned and shook his head.

“Thank you for sitting me down the other week,” Shane said, standing awkwardly in the doorway and watching his friends. “I … I think I needed to say out loud that I have to leave this team. So that I could actually start doing something about it. Instead of gritting my teeth and hoping it would get better because I was supposed to retire a Voyageur, right?”

“We’re going to have to protect you on the ice,” JJ said. “Theriault and probably management, too, want you to retire a Voyageur. They built up this image, this expectation, when you renewed your contract last time for PR and fan engagement. And there is only one way to do that now.”

Shane grimaced. He had tried very hard not to let that thought form fully in his mind, and he didn’t appreciate JJ ruining that effort.

“We play a stupidly dangerous sport,” JJ continued with a glare as if he was expecting a protest. “There are too many things they’d be able to claim were just an accident when it wasn’t.”

“You think this team still has a chance to make the playoffs if I take even just half a step back in my efforts?” Shane asked.

Hayden laughed mirthlessly. “If you ask me, we don’t deserve the playoffs anyway. It’s like a switch was flipped after last season. They got another cup out of you before your contract ended, so now they finally feel free to punish you for being gay, or something.”

“A year too late to technically be called a dynasty, though,” Shane said bitterly. There had been fans and teammates and even the GM who had held that against him during their celebrations after last season. Of course, some, especially the GM, had tried to hide it behind jokes, but the accusation had still been there. “Maybe that’s also the reason it’s all breaking down now.”

JJ rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m really sorry I went along with them for so long, dude.”

“It’s okay,” Shane said quietly.

“It’s not,” Hayden said. “But we’re getting better. I hate that you’re stuck here. It’s like … since we talked about it, I suddenly see all the problems. And I know they’ve been there all the time, but it’s different now, right?”

“I’m fully supportive of you not giving them more than they give you,” JJ said. “Fuck that bullshit about you being nothing without the team. It’s the other way around. And Theriault knows it. He just hates that you’re not doing what you’re told to do.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if Crowell demands another meeting with me.” Shane dropped down onto the couch beside Hayden with a heavy sigh. “Ilya and I kind of ambushed him during the All-Star Weekend. To tell him off for the way he’s treating Barrett. Or, Ilya ambushed him, and I had Ilya’s back. I’ve got that conversation recorded, too.”

Hayden frowned. “What do you mean?”

Shane shrugged. “The League would like to make the Dallas Kent scandal go away very quietly, of course without damaging Kent’s ability to make them money. The player and former friend who got leaked calling him out for his crimes suddenly posting links to charities that support survivors of sexual assault does not make that scandal die down quietly. Crowell tried to bench Barrett for that. The Centaurs’ management and coach ignored him.”

JJ made a face of horrified realization. “Are you going to join Rozanov in Ottawa?”

“Oh my god,” Hayden groaned and buried his face in his hands. “You’ll doom us all with that!”

“We can’t know if Ottawa will even want me,” Shane said. “Or if they can afford me. It would be … Playing together with Ilya would be a dream come true. I think we’ll see what happens after the season ends, once it becomes clear I’m not staying in Montreal, and after I’ve come out. Farah is going to put out some feelers with different teams, but she is doing it very quietly. Everyone expects me to stay in Montreal, and I can’t exactly go shopping for a new team before July 1st without it causing a big scandal all in itself.”

Hayden looked at JJ. “He is going to Ottawa. Every single player will hate the Voyageurs for subjecting them to that.”

Shane frowned. “What are you talking about?”

JJ rolled his eyes. “You know exactly what we’re talking about, capitaine! Hollander and Rozanov on one team? We’ve seen what that means at two All-Star games now.”

“At least Ottawa will finally get a cup,” Hayden murmured.

“We don’t know if I’m even going to Ottawa!” Shane protested, mostly because he didn’t feel he could afford to hope for the best. Right now, he very much felt he needed to expect the worst. “What if Theriault is right and no one wants me?”

“You’re an idiot,” Hayden said. “Stop letting that asshole get in your head.”

“You’re the best player in the League,” JJ pointed out. “You have built up your brand outside of the Voyageurs, too. Of course, you’ll fucking get offers from so many fucking teams you won’t know what to do with them. Including Ottawa. So, we already know what your decision will be, even if they can’t offer you the same kind of money others do because they’re already paying Rozanov.”

“And if the Voyageurs or Crowell try to blacklist me?”

Hayden sent him a look. “Theriault’s reach isn’t that far. He’s just terrified because he knows this team is built around you. We’ve seen what happens when you’re out because of an injury. Most notably 2017, where we didn’t even make the playoffs after all, despite having nearly already secured the spot before Marlow took you out.”

“Play good enough that everyone remembers you’re the best,” JJ said. “But don’t cover for everyone else’s failures anymore.”

“Yeah,” Hayden agreed grimly. “Let the fucking press see how broken our team is. They’ll eventually come to the right conclusion after you come out in the summer. They won’t be able to blame it on your performance on the ice if we’re careful about it.”

Shane blew out air through his teeth. He had a feeling the next couple of months would be the most horrible time he’d ever had while playing hockey.

***

Because of their schedules, it was three weeks after the All-Star game before Ilya and Shane had a chance to spend a night together again. The Centaurs had been on another road trip, and all of them were slowly getting over their anxiety of flying. That they were turning more and more games in their favour lately was probably helping a great deal with that since it gave them something positive to focus on.

When Ilya came home, Shane was already waiting for him, and the whole house smelled delicious, giving away that Shane had cooked for him before Ilya had even fully stepped into the house. Ilya still missed cooking together with Shane, which was honestly the biggest problem Ilya had with Shane’s strict diet over the past year.

“You cooked two meals?” Ilya asked with a frown as soon as he saw the dinner table after properly greeting Shane.

“Wouldn’t want to deprive you of real pasta,” Shane said with a grin. “I know you hate my vegetable version.”

“You hate it, too.”

“Not so much,” Shane said. “I do miss real pasta sometimes. But this one is actually pretty good.”

Ilya frowned and stole a bite from Shane’s plate. He made an exasperated face and shook his head, hoping it would sufficiently hide that he was surprised how good Shane’s version of the pasta with a cream and mushroom sauce was. “It’s horrible!”

Shane laughed. “Liar.”

“Tomorrow we talk to Harris?” Ilya asked.

Shane nodded. “Yeah. Farah brought up the idea of a social media manager for us, too. She is furious about the threats Theriault made when I told him I’m coming out after this season. She thinks we’ll have to expect a whole smear campaign against us.”

“I can see Crowell doing that, too,” Ilya agreed.

“Let’s hope Harris can recommend someone,” Shane said. “And help us figure out a plan. Mom has come up with several ideas, but nothing that feels … like us. Harris is gay, right?”

Ilya nodded. He had gotten a couple of texts with ideas from Yuna, as well, about how they could come out, how they could frame it. She was so used to crafting Shane’s brand, had even helped—or more correctly insisted—Ilya get a couple of select endorsement deals, mostly with Canadian brands, to help him build a little more of a foundation than just his hockey career.

Yuna had been a great help to Ilya in establishing himself in Canada after his move to Ottawa, and had put him in contact with an immigration lawyer. With Yuna’s help and the Centaurs’ sponsoring him, Ilya had gotten permanent resident status much faster than was typical. He had also already started the process of becoming a Canadian citizen, but that process would still take at least a year or probably more. But with permanent resident status, his worry about his passport being revoked by Russia wasn’t quite as big anymore.

This time, though, Yuna wasn’t that much of a help. Everything she had come up with so far felt stiff and too clinical.

“I can’t say this to Mom, but I think we need someone with our perspective,” Shane murmured. “She is looking too much at the whole thing as … furthering our brands. Making sure we’ll still get booked for campaigns and all that. Which … is not a bad thing to think about.”

“But it’s not our focus here,” Ilya finished Shane’s thought with a nod. “We want to stop hiding, not create a new … costume? Mask?”

“Mask fits,” Shane agreed. “But I don’t know how to tell her that.”

“Maybe we find way to tell her after we have talked to Harris,” Ilya said. “I don’t know what to say to her ideas because I don’t know what I really want. Makes sense?”

Shane nodded. “Yeah, exactly. I’ve been looking at everything Hunter has been doing with and for the queer community over the years. Do you want to be that involved?”

Ilya shook his head slowly. “I like focus of our foundation. We are already very careful to be inclusive there. We support some mental health organizations that focus on queer community. Some that focus on women. Some that focus on children. Some that focus on men. Some that focus on athletes. Some that focus on immigrants. I like that … spread?”

“Range,” Shane offered. “Yeah, I like that, too.”

“We have means to support good causes,” Ilya said slowly. Then he switched to Russian, “That doesn’t mean we are obligated to support every single cause, even those we’re connected to. I think just being who we are should be enough sometimes. Maybe telling our story could be enough.”

Shane smiled. “Yeah.”

Ilya bit his lip and poked his fork at his pasta, shoving the food from one side of the plate to the other. “I haven’t been in Russia since my father’s funeral.”

“Do you want to go back before we come out?” Shane asked.

Ilya shook his head. “No. I miss some things. But I don’t want … There is nothing for me there anymore. I just worry. How many people will demand I fight for queer people at home? I can’t see myself doing that. Maybe I should because someone has to, right? But…”

Shane reached out and took Ilya’s hand, switching the conversation back to English, “Like you said, sometimes it needs to be enough that we just are.”

“That is what we are telling Harris, yes?” Ilya asked. “We just want to live without hiding. If we could do that without a big…” He frowned in frustration over his English just not working this evening.

“Making a big production?” Shane suggested.

Ilya nodded. “Without making a big production we would. But we can’t because world sucks and people everywhere think we fucking each other is any different than Pike fucking Jackie.”

Shane made a face. “Ilya! God, could you choose someone other than my best friend for that comparison?”

Ilya grinned. “Hm, okay. So, Wyatt and Lisa? Bood and Cassie?”

Shane rolled his eyes. “You’ve made your point. I just wish you hadn’t done it with Hayden and Jackie.”

“Do you want people to know about … how your locker room changed after you came out to team?” Ilya asked softly.

Shane shrugged. “I shouldn’t air the dirty laundry of my team in public. Even if they will be my ex-team by then.”

“Maybe keep in mind, though,” Ilya said. “Beat them with truth if they turn ugly.”

Shane had sent him a copy of the recording of his conversation with Theriault, and Ilya had kept wondering ever since what a shit show it would be for the Voyageurs if that recording were ever made public. He suspected Shane would never agree to such a plan, but it was still something he could happily dream about. The fallout would be very satisfying to watch—Ilya was sure of that.

Shane frowned. “Let’s hope everyone will behave. I had a lot of good years with the Voyageurs, even if that’s changed over the last couple of years. I don’t want to … I’d like to keep the good memories, you know? They still gave me three cups.”

“You gave them three cups,” Ilya corrected. “And they will learn when they don’t have you anymore. You’re best player in league.”

Shane grinned. “Best player, huh?”

“I will not repeat in public, but is true.” Ilya shrugged.

Shane leaned over for a quick kiss. “There are all kinds of really, really bad scenarios in my mind about what will happen. I hope none of them come true. I hope we’ll just be left alone to play and be happy.”

“Yes,” Ilya agreed softly. “I hope so, too.”

Chapter 05

Shane didn’t know Harris at all and only knew Troy Barrett from the games he had played against him. He knew his reputation, and he knew how Troy was on the ice and had been in the Guardians’ media room. But he now also knew Ilya’s perspective on the other man. Shane might not trust Troy, but for some reason Ilya did, and for now, that was enough for Shane.

He wasn’t quite sure why Troy would be at Harris’ place, too, but Ilya had just grinned smugly and not told him anything, so Shane just went with it. Troy already knew about him anyway, and he was a closeted hockey player himself. Maybe he might have some good thoughts, even though his reputation from before he had been traded to Ottawa was truly one of the worst reputations you could have in the league, at least in Shane’s opinion.

“Everything will be okay,” Ilya murmured as they stopped in front of the door and rang the bell.

Shane just nodded quietly. He hadn’t been there when Ilya had come out to Wyatt or Troy, or when he had told them about Shane. His own last experience with coming out to someone was far from great, and he really didn’t have many good experiences at all with coming out. There was always drama attached to it, always hurtful words involved—even with his parents, who had all in all been really great about his dad walking in on Ilya and him. But on bad days, his father’s question about finding a nice Montreal boy still rose from his memories and felt like a thorn deeply buried in his flesh.

“Ilya!”

The man who opened the door wasn’t at all what Shane had expected from a social media manager. The person with that title at the Voyageurs was a stern-looking man, a little older than Shane, always in a business suit, always lecturing everyone about their brand and how to conduct themselves at all times. Not that Shane saw a lot of that guy because he had never been very involved in the Voyageur’s promotion on that front. Harris was the complete opposite him.

Harris froze for a moment when he spotted Shane. “And Shane Hollander. That’s a surprise.”

“Invite us in?” Ilya said and gestured into the house. “Shane needs to meet Chiron. Most important introduction tonight.”

Harris laughed. “I see. I’m just not important, huh?”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Shane said with a smile and shook Harris’ hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you. And about Chiron.”

Harris waved them inside and then called for Chiron. The dog rushed into the hallway as if he had been waiting for just that moment, jumping up on Ilya’s leg right away in overjoyed excitement. Shane watched with a fond smile as Ilya forgot everyone around him for a little while as he greeted the dog. It was at that moment that Shane learned he had already lost the argument about them getting a dog—and probably soon—before Ilya ever even brought it up.

“And this is Shane, Chiron,” Ilya said eventually. “He is second-best hockey player after me. And most important person in world to me.”

Shane crouched down and pet the still very excited dog. “Hey there, Chiron.”

“Most important person?” Harris asked quietly, flicking his gaze from Ilya to Shane and back again.

Ilya nodded and looked up from where he was sitting beside Chiron with a bright, carefree smile. For a moment, Shane felt as if he had been shoved into the boards, because that kind of smile had grown rare lately, and he only noticed its absence at this very moment. There had been other things about Ilya he had noticed, many things that had made him worry, still made him worry even knowing Ilya was seeing a therapist. But somehow, that this kind of smile had become so horribly rare hadn’t been one of the things Shane had noticed.

“Fiancé should be most important person, right?” Ilya asked.

“I told you to be prepared for your world to be turned upside down,” Troy Barrett said from the other side of the hall. “Hey Hollander. Good to see you again.”

“It’s Shane, both of you.”

Troy nodded, and Harris cleared his throat. “This is … great news! Fantastic news!”

Ilya laughed, and Shane ducked his head a little sheepishly.

“No, really, I’m so happy for you, Ilya. And for you, Hol-Shane. You deserve the world.”

“There are a lot of people who won’t think that way,” Shane said.

Harris made a face. “Yeah. It’s my job to deal with those kinds of people.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Ilya said. “But maybe we should not talk about it sitting on the ground in your hallway.”

Harris chuckled. “Yes, okay. Now you’ve made me curious. Let’s move this to the living room. What do you want to drink?”

“Beer,” Ilya said. “And do you have ginger ale?”

Shane wanted to protest. Ginger ale wasn’t exactly part of his diet, and even on the rare cheat days he allowed himself, he usually went for other things to enjoy over it. And he’d already had a cheat day this month. But Ilya nudged him in the side and then kissed him right there in front of Harris, Troy, and Chiron as if it was the most normal thing in the world, and Shane forgot to worry about his diet for a moment.

Harris turned to Troy with his brows raised. “Is that the reason you told me to pick some of that up? You knew Ilya wasn’t coming alone?”

Troy grinned and shrugged.

Ilya glared at his teammate. “Why do you know what Shane likes to drink?”

Troy raised his brows, then he gave Shane a slow once-over. “I think we’ve already had that conversation, Ilya. But you don’t have any reason to worry.”

Ilya huffed and jumped up. As soon as Shane stood as well, Ilya’s hand was on the small of his back, and he led him into Harris’ living room, Chiron trotting along behind them. The dog jumped onto the couch as soon as he clocked where Ilya was headed for, and then Shane found himself sitting beside Ilya with Chiron sprawled half over his lap and half over Ilya’s.

Harris glared at Ilya as soon as he saw that, carrying three bottles of beer and a ginger ale. “Chiron,” he said in a sharp tone.

Chiron whined, but he jumped down from the couch and sat in front of Ilya, leaning heavily against his legs.

Shane sighed. “So, when you eventually bring a dog home, I’m the one who’ll have to be the stern one, huh?”

Ilya grinned and shrugged, scratching a spot behind Chiron’s ear. His other arm was wrapped around Shane’s waist, something that made Shane more than a little uncomfortable in front of two people he didn’t know. But he reminded himself again that every person in the room was queer, so there was no danger here. And at some point, he needed to start getting used to it. One day, he wanted to be comfortable enough to take Ilya’s hand when they were out, not hide the physical contact between them as carefully as he had done during Fabian’s concert last summer.

“No arguments?” Ilya asked smugly.

Shane sighed. “I know I already lost those, it’s just a matter of when not if now. I’ve learned to pick my battles with you over the years.”

Harris chuckled. “Wow. So, this has been going on for a while.”

Troy groaned and grabbed his beer. “Don’t ask.”

Shane stared at him with a frown.

“Ilya bragged,” Troy explained. “When he told Wyatt and me. Dared us to guess. Then wouldn’t stop bragging for a really long time.”

“Ilya always brags,” Harris said. “Thank you for telling me, by the way. And for introducing me.”

“I’m coming out to the team slowly,” Ilya said. “One at a time. To make sure no one reacts badly. You’re part of team. And Chiron, too!”

“Are you worried about anyone on the team?” Harris asked.

Ilya shook his head. “No, not anymore. We had some bad apples. But I made sure they were happy to get traded when I heard them bad talking you behind your back.”

“Bad mouthing,” Shane murmured. “I didn’t know that.”

Ilya shrugged. “Bood and Wyatt helped. We have good team.” He winked at Troy. “Were worried about you for a moment.”

“I’m going to come out to the team soon,” Troy blurted out. “And then the public. Harris and I have already put together something to post. I want to do it before the Pride game. I mean, publicly do it. Coming out to the team should probably happen soon, so they know.”

“The Pride game is against Toronto, isn’t it?” Shane asked worriedly.

It wasn’t the first time Ottawa had played against Toronto since Troy had been traded, and the last time they had been very unsubtle about targeting their old teammate. He couldn’t imagine anything but it getting worse if he had just come out.

Troy nodded with a grim look. “Yeah. I don’t know who thought that was a good idea.”

“Makes for a good show,” Harris said darkly.

“This time we are prepared to counter them,” Ilya said, with a gleam in his eyes that promised pure chaos. “We trained for it. We have new tactic just for Toronto.”

Harris sighed deeply. “I already see the mountain of work you’ll be creating for me.”

“And you’ll enjoy beating Toronto on the internet as badly as we’re beating them on the ice,” Ilya said smugly.

Harris sent a short gaze towards Troy that told Shane a lot of things he suspected no one was supposed to know. At least now it made sense why Ilya had been so amused about Shane’s confusion about Troy being here tonight.

“I will,” Harris agreed quietly.

“Speaking of your work,” Ilya said. “We want to ask you for advice.”

Harris turned all his attention to them. “Advice?”

“We want to come out,” Shane said. “And we were told that a lot of the reaction, good and bad, will happen on social media. We probably need a social media manager. One who … understands our situation. And who won’t out us before we’re ready to get their own five minutes of fame.”

“We hope you might have a friend,” Ilya said. “And maybe ideas for a plan. It would be perfect if we could do it quietly.”

Troy laughed. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

Ilya glared at him but then sighed. “We know. Is why we’re here. It can’t happen quietly.”

“Hunter said doing it as loud as possible could also be an asset,” Shane said. “Because Crowell will be very unhappy.”

Troy nodded. “That’s the reason I’m going to do it with our Pride game. People will talk about it for the timing alone, so there won’t be a chance to bury it under other things happening that night. And it will look very bad if the League tries to punish me, between coming out and standing up to Kent. It would only create more noise, and the kind of noise they don’t want.”

“Good thinking,” Ilya agreed.

“You said you prepared a statement already?” Shane asked.

“A video,” Troy said. “Harris helped me with it. Both with the video and with getting my words down in a way that makes sense.”

“You did most of that all by yourself,” Harris said. “It’s a good statement. Honest and open, but without trying to excuse the past.”

Troy smiled and blushed, and Shane wondered for a moment if those two were already dating or were still dancing around each other. He needed to make sure Ilya kept him up to date about this gossip. It was only fair for not warning Shane beforehand.

“Video sounds good,” Ilya said. Then he winked at Shane. “You can do your sexy thing. Doing it in English, then in French.”

“You can do them in English and Russian,” Shane countered.

Ilya froze. Then he inhaled deeply and carefully. Then he muttered in Russian, “I don’t know if that is a good idea.”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” Harris said at the same time and leaned forward excitedly.

“Won’t that cause trouble with the laws in Russia?” Troy asked.

“Yes, probably,” Ilya said slowly in English. “But I’m not in Russia. Soon I will have Canadian passport. I think … as long as I’m here … worst that happens is I might end up without a passport for a little while. But it will be summer. We have time to take care of it before first games across border. My lawyer says with permanent residency and the process for Canadian citizenship already started, I will be able to get documentation to travel for work between Canada and US even if I don’t have passport for some time.”

“You think they’d revoke your passport if you posted a coming out video in Russian?” Shane asked with a frown.

“Only way they can punish me. My money is in Canadian bank. I’m not there to be arrested. But doing video in Russian is definitely crossing line of deliberately promoting to Russian people. They will want to punish me, I think.”

“I didn’t know that,” Harris said quietly.

“Is not new,” Ilya said. “My family was always … Father and brother are police. I knew they could not find out. Is one reason I worked to be drafted for NHL. Then Russia made law to protect children from non-traditional lifestyle. Russia is not good place to call home for Russians like me. And I don’t … think I’m the right person to fight for it to become better.”

“You don’t need to do videos in Russian,” Harris said. “Doing them in English will be perfectly fine.”

Ilya lowered his head and pulled Shane a little tighter to his side. “Shane and I talked last night. About maybe existing is all we can … and want to give to the fight of our community.”

“Just existing will already be a lot,” Troy agreed quietly. “I think I’ll be more active in the future. Advocate and shit. Take a more active role than just posting a couple of links on Instagram. I’ve been talking a lot with my mom about it. And about what I didn’t do in the past. But I completely understand why you’d choose another route.”

“We’ve already found our cause,” Shane said. “We already found what we want to be fighting for. That has to be enough.”

Ilya nodded. “But maybe the video in Russian is not bad idea. Maybe I can do that one thing for the people who can’t just leave Russia. Maybe just existing and talking to them in our language can give them hope. And the strength it needs to fight. That I don’t have.”

“You have plenty of strength,” Shane said softly and placed his hand on Ilya’s thigh.

Ilya shrugged.

“I think that is a very important thought, Ilya,” Harris said. “And I’ll be happy to support both of you with everything I can.”

Shane frowned. “You have a job already. We don’t want to take advantage of you, Harris.”

Harris grinned. “I can make some time to help a friend and his fiancé. Call it my wedding gift to you. But eventually, yeah, you will probably need someone who can dedicate all their time to managing your accounts. Maybe even two people. I’ll think about it and get you a list of recommendations. But in the meantime, I’d be very happy to be all up in your shenanigans! Part of the fallout will be my problem anyway.”

“What is your plan so far?” Troy asked.

Shane pressed his lips into a thin line and turned his gaze away. He hated that they didn’t have a plan and that he hadn’t managed to come up with anything in the weeks since he had asked Ilya to marry him.

“We still need to come up with one,” Ilya said.

A slow smile spread over Harris’ face, and he seemed honestly excited. “We could work on that now, if you want?”

Shane shared a look with Ilya, then shrugged. “Yeah. If you want to? We would appreciate your insight a lot, actually.”

“Great!” Harris jumped up and grabbed a laptop lying on the dinner table. Then he stopped and frowned at it. “No, it probably shouldn’t go on here for the time being. Give me a moment!” With that, he vanished from the room.

“Harris has a laptop he never connects to any networks,” Troy explained. “The video we made for me is on there, too. He is a little bit paranoid about getting hacked and being the source of a leak. Guess that comes with the job.”

“That is good idea,” Ilya agreed.

“I’ve worried a lot over the years that our texts or something like that might be hacked and leaked,” Shane said quietly.

“That’s why you’re Jane in my phone.”

Troy laughed. “Wait, really?”

Ilya nodded with a wide grin. “My idea. Shane is Jane, I’m Lily. Whole team in Boston used to tease me about Montreal Jane. Would love to see their faces, when they learn that was Shane all along.”

Shane chuckled. “Hayden used to tease me about Boston Lily.”

On his team, Hayden had been the only one who had known about the supposed ‘girl’ Shane had in Boston. Shane scooted back in his seat uncomfortably. The comparison to Ilya’s team in Boston stung a little. He had often texted Ilya from the locker room, had even texted him in the middle of celebrating their second cup win. No one had ever noticed.

At the time, Shane had thought he had a good team where everyone respected and accepted him, and now little memories like this made him wonder if any of that had ever been true.

“So!” Harris said as he came back with a different laptop, already open and booting up while he was still walking. “Let’s figure out how to make this happen for you in a way that you’re comfortable with. That’s the most important thing, always remember that, okay?”

“The only way I’d be comfortable with any of it was if no one ever questioned me about being gay or my relationship with Ilya”, Shane said with a frown.

Harris made a face. “Okay. Then let me rephrase that to ‘as comfortable as possible’. I think we’re very, very far away from any hockey player just being openly queer without that becoming some kind of story. I know that sucks, and I’m sorry. For all three of you. People will talk, and they will ask questions.”

“But it should be our story, at least,” Ilya said. “I don’t want anyone to make it their story. No one knows the truth but Shane and me. What we have to say should be the important part.”

“Yes, exactly!” Harris agreed.

“Is this about the Voyageurs?” Troy asked with a frown. “Ilya said they haven’t been so great since you came out to them.”

“My coach explicitly told me he’d end my career if I came out,” Shane said.

“He did not,” Harris said slowly, in a tone that held a lot more danger than Shane would have ever expected from him.

Shane shrugged. “He did. And I think he is convinced he can do that.”

“We’ll make sure you get to tell your story how you want to tell it,” Harris said. “And that anyone who tries to change your narrative will regret it.

“Do you want to tell everything?” Troy asked.

Shane looked at Ilya, who looked just as undecided as he felt.

“What would be everything?” Harris asked. “And this is a very professional question, no matter how curious I am. If you want my professional opinion, I need to know what everything is.”

“But you’re also curious,” Ilya said with a grin.

“Of course I’m curious!” Harris said. “You’ve been officially rivals since before you even started playing for the NHL! When did that change? How did it change?”

“The rivalry was never … something we put forward,” Shane said. “Maybe it was a little true when we met for the first time. World Juniors in 2008, and suddenly, I wasn’t the only star player everyone was talking about anymore. It was new and exciting to have someone who could keep up with me.”

“Someone who beat you,” Ilya said, chin raised.

“Someone I beat a year later,” Shane countered. “The real feat would’ve been to take that title away from me twice. Would make up for the two cups you’re behind me, too!”

“Next cup either of us gets, we’re getting together.”

“You’re coming to Ottawa?” Troy and Harris asked at the same time, in nearly identical tones of incredulous joy.

“It’s an idea,” Shane said carefully. “Our manager is working on it. It’s difficult, though. Everyone expects me to stay in Montreal. Farah just going out and asking other teams if they want me could turn into its own kind of scandal. Officially, I shouldn’t even be talking about any of this before July 1st! I don’t think it’s a good idea to rock the boat with the Voyageurs that much. I still have to finish the season for them.”

“I’m gonna put a bug in Wiebe’s ear,” Ilya promised and kissed Shane’s temple. “Next season, we play together. And then we’re getting a cup together. Or five.”

Troy laughed. “Five?”

“Ilya hadn’t played even a single game for the NHL when he claimed he’d get 50 goals his first season,” Shane said.

“And I did!”

“We both ended the season with 67 goals each. But only one of us earned himself a reputation as a cocky asshole before his first ever game.”

“They’ll need to redo that whole documentary about you!” Harris said. “I watched it. There was no mention of that detail!”

“It was much more other people talking about us than us talking about us,” Ilya said. “But was still good. I like other people talking about me.”

“Of course you do,” Troy muttered and shook his head.

“Okay, back on track,” Harris said. “So, where is the start for the two of you not being rivals?”

“Summer 2010,” Shane said. “It was very casual and very irregular for a long time.”

“That’s what we pretended. Because it could not be more. Not with Russia, not with the League, not with the narrative the press built around us.”

Shane nodded. “Yeah. But the point is, the NHL doesn’t know us as Number 24 Hollander and Number 81 Rozanov without beneath it all Shane and Ilya existing as … us.”

Harris stared at them in silence for a long moment, then he nodded. “I think you need to tell the world that. Your supposed rivalry will cause a lot of discourse. And a lot of questions. I think we want to counteract that from the very beginning.”

Shane made a face. He didn’t want to put that much of their relationship out there. This should be private, something just between the two of them. Something that no one should be able to besmirch. Not something they put out as a spectacle for others to laugh and judge them for.

“I think is good idea,” Ilya said slowly. “Give them enough so they won’t dig. I liked letting Troy and Wyatt guess. Would like to do it again with rest of team. And maybe Marlow. But that is friends. Strangers should not think so much about our relationship. If we give enough that they believe to know everything, it will be easier to keep the important things to us. Like first summer at cottage together.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s a good point,” Shane admitted. “But telling our whole story, that’s a lot.”

“It doesn’t have to come all at once,” Harris said. “We could make a series of videos.”

Even while talking, Harris was typing on his laptop without looking at it even once, and at a speed that baffled Shane. Just for a moment, he wondered if anything Harris wrote would be understandable later on.

“Maybe you can come out as gay and bi first, individually,” Troy suggested. “And a couple of weeks later, you come out as a couple.”

“I like that idea!” Shane agreed. “Especially … I told my coach I’m going to come out in the summer, but not about getting married. Or being engaged at all. They won’t be able to accuse me of misleading them if I come out as gay first.”

“Maybe something…” Ilya frowned. “Not so obvious? For me first.”

“Subtle?” Harris suggested.

Ilya nodded. “Yeah. Passport will be less problem if I’m married to Canadian citizen, I think. And the more I think, the more I believe Russia might revoke my citizenship if I post video of coming out. I have meeting with lawyer in two weeks. I will talk with him about it. So maybe not video at first for me. Maybe something most people will miss, especially if there is Shane’s video announcing he is gay.”

Harris tilted his head. “What’s the timeline exactly for any of this?”

“Not before the season is over!” Shane said hurriedly. “We’d just get accused of distracting from hockey if we come out before then.”

Troy leaned forward with a frown. “You think so? Should I wait?”

“I think Pride game is good choice for you,” Ilya said. “You’re different than us. Also, if you come out now, you will have your time to … shine?”

Troy chuckled listlessly. “Not sure that’s what I want. I just want … to use the fresh start here as much as I can.”

Harris sent a reassuring smile to Troy and nodded. “It won’t be you distracting from hockey. It hasn’t been Scott Hunter distracting from hockey when he is asked by the press about his private life or when fans hold up homophobic signs.”

“They’ll still say we’re the problem, not the other people reacting to it,” Shane pointed out.

“And it will be my job for Troy to put a stop to that claim. And later for your social media manager. I think I already have a couple of ideas of who I could set you up with.” Harris looked at Ilya and Shane. “And when is your wedding scheduled?”

“No date yet,” Ilya said. “But before our camps in the summer. So, early in July.”

“That’s not a lot of time if the final series goes into game 7,” Harris said. “But it does give us part of Pride Month, and I think that’s a great way to frame the whole thing. And I have an idea about that subtle coming out for you, Ilya.”

Ilya cocked his head. “Okay.”

“A lot of celebrities show their support in June during Pride Month,” Harris said. “Just trying to show they’re allies. And they don’t always do it in a perfect or great way. I’m thinking of adding the bi flag to your social media profiles. Instagram and Twitter. Maybe together with the pride flag. Half the people will think you don’t know what it means and dismiss it.”

Ilya laughed at that. “I like that! Make people think I made stupid mistake, but they’re the ones who’re stupid!”

“Yeah, but we aren’t calling anyone stupid,” Harris said hurriedly.

“Could be slip up with language?” Ilya suggested with a pout.

“No!”

Ilya sighed deeply.

“And then a video of me coming out a couple of days after the final game,” Shane said. “Give it just enough time so no one will think I’m disrupting the party to steal all the attention. Then we post a video where we come out as a couple on the day of our wedding. Followed by a series of videos where we talk about how our relationship developed.”

“The important moments we choose to share,” Ilya said, and a slow grin grew on his face. “Like All-Star 2017.”

“Every All-Star game was important,” Shane said. “Maybe even … Maybe especially All-Star 2019.”

“That’s the All-Star Weekend Ilya skipped without explanation,” Troy said with a frown.

Ilya huffed. “There was explanation. And I would have explained if anyone had asked. But no one asked because they knew they didn’t want to hear.”

Harris frowned. “I didn’t hear any rumor about the reason. I only heard you took the fine for skipping without complaint.”

“Duncan Harvey died of an overdose shortly before All-Star game,” Ilya said. “He had been struggling for long time. His team did not support him. Ryan Price and I were the only people who showed up to his funeral. There should have been more players.”

“Oh,” Troy exhaled loudly. “Yeah, now I remember.”

“We talked about both skipping All-Star to go to the funeral,” Shane whispered, gaze lowered and leaning a little more heavily against Ilya. “But we had only just announced the Irina Foundation and people were already wondering. We came to the conclusion that they’d start asking questions that would come too close to the truth we tried to hide. So, Ilya went alone.”

Harris nodded, a thoughtful expression overtaking his face. “I’m starting to see a vision. Or a red string. But it might turn into a lot of work for the three of us if we want to make it as perfect as possible for you.”

“Four,” Troy said. “All four of us.” He straightened his shoulders when they all turned to him. “I mean, I don’t know what I can do, really. But wherever I can help, I will.”

Harris grinned widely. “Great. So, first of all, we’ll make a list of the things you are comfortable talking about to share your journey with the world. In chronological order, though we might not film the videos in chronological order in the end. But I need a timeline to work with! Then we will create an outline for topics for single videos and decide if you’re both in the video or just one of you. I think it would be more impactful if we had a mix of individual and shared videos.”

Shane stared at Harris, feeling a little bit lost.

“How fast do you think your manager might know which might be potential new teams for you, Shane?” Harris asked. “Because as much as your relationship shouldn’t have anything to do with the NHL, that’s just not the reality for you. You met because of hockey. You kept meeting because of hockey. And you said it earlier, the League had a lot to do with you choosing to stay hidden for this long.”

“Farah hasn’t even started to make a list yet. Like I said, she can’t officially reach out to anyone before July 1st. By then, everyone will at least already know I’m gay.”

Ilya repeated, “Will be the Centaurs. No other team is good enough for my husband.”

Shane rolled his eyes and laughed.

“I’m pretty confident that the Centaurs will support you, no matter if it’s just Ilya playing for them or both of you,” Harris said. “And at some point, we need to let any team you’re playing for know what is going to happen during the summer. That said, I think it’d be best to disclose your relationship to the Centaurs soon, and to any team you will be in serious negotiations with, Shane.”

Shane sighed and nodded. Another thing he hated, but he could see that there might be accusations of breaking any contract for the fact that he hadn’t disclosed being married to a rival player before the next season started. That would definitely put more teams off than the fact that he was gay alone, and he had already told Farah to disclose his plans to come out when she made very quiet inquiries about a possible new team for him.

Chapter 06

“Marly!” Ilya yelled, voice full of excitement, and pulled his friend into a tight hug.

When he had left Boston, he had made a lot of promises about staying in contact, and he had meant them at the time. Just before the Centaurs had started their road trip that would take them to Boston, Ilya had talked with Galina about how those promises had broken far too quickly, how part of him had felt like a burden on his friends in Boston—mainly Cliff and Svetlana.

“Roz!” Cliff shouted just as excitedly. “You sure about not going out tonight? You afraid of the hangover making you lose tomorrow?”

“In your dreams,” Ilya said. “We are going to beat your asses tomorrow. We’re on a run.”

“Nearly dying together definitely gave you an edge,” Cliff said.

Ilya grinned. “You know, you’re first one who can joke about it that doesn’t sound horrible or makes me cringe in fear.”

“I was really relieved when I heard no one had been hurt. You scared me, Roz.”

“I texted you!” Ilya protested. “Do you have beer? Or did you turn into bad host?”

“I remember you telling me that Americans are bad hosts, period,” Cliff said with raised brows. “I have to help you uphold your prejudices somehow, don’t I? Especially now that you decided to become Canadian instead!”

“Canadians are very good hosts,” Ilya said. “Not as good as Russians, of course. No one ever has proper vodka. No one knows how to make a toast. Very sad.”

Cliff clapped his back and gestured him towards the kitchen. “So, you gonna tell me why we aren’t going out?”

“Need to talk with you about something private.” Ilya watched his friend out of the corner of his eye while he pretended to inspect the kitchen for any changes. “Two somethings. One is very exciting. Best news of decade. Other is kind of boring. But was Hunter’s idea, so what do you expect?”

“I hear he is going to coach at your Ottawa camp this year,” Cliff said.

Ilya glared at him. “I’ve invited you to coach, too. Long before Hunter. You never have time!”

“I’m horrible with children!” Cliff protested and held a beer bottle out to Ilya. “You know that. You don’t want me at your camp. I’d scare the little ones away from ever getting on the ice again!”

“Then don’t be jealous of Hunter!” Ilya rolled his eyes. “He wants to create a collection of players and other people to speak up together when things go wrong in the League. Like with Kent. Easier to speak up in group than alone.”

Cliff nodded. “Yeah. And more difficult for Crowell to shut up a group than an individual. How is Barrett?”

“Being traded to Ottawa was probably best thing that could happen to him. And I finally got two wingmen who can keep up with me. Kind of hope Dillon might be traded away. Now he is pulling down second line.”

“You building an empire in Ottawa, or what?” Cliff asked with a laugh.

“We’re getting cup soon, you just wait,” Ilya said with a wide grin. “So, you in with Hunter’s plan? I can give him your contact, then he can hash out details with you.”

“Of course I’m in,” Cliff said with a frown. “It’s no coincidence the Bears have been beating Toronto extra hard lately! There are a couple of guys who’d like to support Barrett openly, but management shut us down.”

Ilya made a face. “Yeah. That’s why Hunter’s idea is needed. Being dinosaur and having all that life experience is good for something, after all.”

Cliff chuckled and took a sip of his beer. “What’s the other news then?”

“You’re invited to my wedding,” Ilya said.

Cliff stared at him open-mouthed.

“I think there is some saying about catching flies in your language,” Ilya said with raised brows.

“You’re getting married? Mr. ‘has a girl in every town’ Rozanov, Mr. ‘hooks up with one girl in the bathroom of the club to take home two others for the rest of the night’ Rozanov is settling down? I didn’t even know you were in any kind of relationship!”

“You knew,” Ilya corrected with a frown. “Used to tease me about it. Even asked about it directly when I told you I’d move to Ottawa.”

“Your Montreal girl?” Cliff asked, still barely able to close his mouth. “Jane?”

“Not a girl,” Ilya said. “Was never a girl. But easier to hide with false name in phone. I’m Lily in his phone.”

Cliff stared. Then he blindly reached his hand out, searching for a chair to pull over, and sat down with a heavy thud. “Wow. Okay. Congrats, I guess. And … Thank you? You could’ve told me, you know?”

Ilya shrugged. “I trust you, Cliff. But some secrets can only stay secret if no one knows about them. I’ve hated that it’s secret for a long time. Keeping it a secret has made me sick. Both of us, I think. But coming out will change a lot. We will come out in summer now. Will you come?”

“Of course I’m coming to your wedding, asshole!” Cliff jumped out of the chair and hugged Ilya so hard that they both nearly fell over. “You need to tell me all about your guy! You’ve been stupid about him for … probably as long as I’ve known you!”

“Since summer before rookie season,” Ilya agreed. “So, little over year longer than I’ve known you. You know him. Sit down. Because you will fall over when I tell you.”

“I don’t know anyone in Montreal other than … Whoa!” Cliff turned on his heels, walked back to the chair and sat down. “You’ve been fucking another player all this time? And from the Voyageurs? Hollander will blow a gasket when he finds out!”

Ilya grinned brightly and rocked back on his heels. “The only one Shane is blowing is me.”

“Ew, gross, Rozanov!” Cliff complained, then he froze. “Wait. Wait a moment. You’re going to fucking marry Shane fucking Hollander this summer? And this’s been going on since before you played for the fucking Bears? This is a prank, right? You’re pulling my fucking leg!”

Ilya grinned smugly and drank from his beer.

“This is real?” Cliff asked.

Ilya nodded. “So, are you coming to my wedding?”

“Of course I’m coming to your fucking wedding!” Cliff said with a huff. “Even if you’re marrying Shane Hollander of all people.”

“Date is not safe yet,” Ilya said. “But early in July. Definitely before our camps that you don’t want to help us run.”

Cliff shook his head slowly. “Wow, really. How did this even fucking happen?”

Ilya grinned and nodded to the living room. “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable. Then I’ll tell you everything!”

***

Telling Svetlana the next day when Ilya went to her place to have breakfast was less fun, but also a lot easier. She already knew most of the truth about Jane, after all. Sveta knew why Ilya had moved to Ottawa, even knew that Jane was another player. Ilya had just never been completely honest about who Jane was.

“You remember Jane,” Ilya started, in Russian, because he barely spoke anything else with her.

Svetlana huffed. “Do I remember the guy who caught you and made you forget to talk to me after you moved? Yeah, I remember him.”

Ilya rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t Shane’s fault. I have been bad about keeping in touch with anyone in Boston. And bad at building relationships in Ottawa. But that’s because I’ve been in my head a lot. I’m working on that now.”

Sveta frowned. “Are you okay?”

Ilya lowered his gaze. Svetlana was probably the only person who knew how much Ilya had been broken by his mother’s death, the only one who had been there to see all of it without ever judging him for it.

“No,” Ilya admitted. “But I’m working on it. And not the way Mama worked on it.”

Svetlana inhaled sharply.

Ilya grinned lopsidedly. “Don’t worry so much about me, Sveta. I’m seeing someone. And I’m sharing with people I trust.” Which was only two people at the moment, but that was a minor detail. “I’m sharing with you. I already have more support than Mama ever had. But I’m not here to talk about that.”

“I’d like to talk about it,” Sveta said with a frown.

“Come to Ottawa for a visit, soon,” Ilya said. “Then we can talk. I have a game this afternoon. It’s not a good topic to start the day with, and I’d rather not get into it now.”

Sveta watched him with an intense gaze. “I will come by. I’ll look up your schedule and make sure to come when you don’t have a game for several days.”

Ilya nodded.

“So, Jane’s real name is Shane? That’s not very creative.”

Ilya chuckled. “I’m Lily in his phone.”

Svetlana huffed and rolled her eyes. “That was your idea, right? It’s so stupid, it can only have been your idea!”

“Of course it was my idea. Shane was too confused and anxious to even think about exchanging numbers. I had to demand he hand over his phone just to save my contact in it.”

“And he is from Montreal,” Svetlana said leadingly, her brows raised. “And another player.”

“It’s exactly the Shane you’re thinking of,” Ilya agreed.

Svetlana sighed, but there was a small smile on her face. “Wow.”

“We’re going to get married in the summer,” Ilya said. “And come out. We’re done hiding.”

“Ilyusha,” Sveta murmured. “You won’t be able…”

Ilya nodded. “I know. But I’ll have a Canadian passport soon. I’ll renounce Russian citizenship as soon as things are settled in Canada. I’ve had years to think about it and prepare for it. I don’t have anything left in Russia. It’s not a coincidence that the last time I was home was for my father’s funeral.”

“You still call it home.”

Ilya swallowed and lowered his gaze. “It will always be home. Even though Russia won’t want me anymore after this summer. I hate a lot about home, but there are just as many things I miss. And that I’ll always miss. Russia hasn’t given me anything, ever, that I’d choose above all else, though. Shane has.”

“I’m happy for you that you’ve found that kind of love,” Svetlana said softly and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. “Your mother would be happy for you, too.”

“I would love to have you there for the wedding,” Ilya said. “I’d choose you as best man if I could. But I know you might not be able to come. You might not be able to be openly friends with me anymore after the summer. Coming out will be huge. And I … We’re making videos to post over the summer. Telling our story so no one else will try to twist it in their own way to use against us.”

Svetlana nodded. “Makes sense.”

“Shane always does everything like this in both English and French, right? He suggested I do my videos in both English and Russian.”

Svetlana sucked in air through her teeth. “They might just try you in absentia, Ilyusha! You’re too big a name back home. They’ll take a video in Russian as a direct provocation.”

Ilya shrugged. “Yeah, maybe. And I’ll also besmirch my father’s great legacy, right?”

Svetlana made a face. “My father will certainly demand I very publicly break with you. He … He is much too proud of how he managed to establish himself again back home despite his defection in the ‘80s.”

“Are you proud of his involvement with the Ministry?”

Svetlana rolled her eyes. “You know I’m not. I wish my parents would’ve come back with me. I love him, but I’m grateful that I was born here. He has changed, and I hate that. Ten years ago, he helped me to come back here, made sure no one made it more difficult than it should be. I’m not sure he wouldn’t be the one now trying to convince me to just give up my US citizenship as so many of his friends demanded back then. He hated so many things about the Soviet Union, and he was so loud about that when I was a child, even after we had moved to Moscow. Now I look at him and think, all the things he once hated he is embodying now. I don’t know how to make him see that.”

“I’m sorry that our friendship will cause you trouble now,” Ilya murmured. “Maybe it’s good that we haven’t been seen together a lot since I moved to Ottawa. It will be easier for you to claim that we haven’t been close friends for a while.”

Sveta slapped his arm. “I will do no such thing, asshole. My father can come around or not. He has no control over my life or my friendships. Of course I’ll be at your wedding, Ilyusha!”

Ilya smiled shakily, feeling a weight fall from his chest he hadn’t even noticed. He had never doubted that he could trust Svetlana with everything, but what she did in private and public could still have been two very different situations. She still had a lot of ties to Russia, went home for several weeks at least twice a year. He had always wondered if coming out would mean keeping his friendship with her a secret in the future to protect her.

“Sometimes I miss when we were young,” Ilya said wistfully.

Svetlana slapped his shoulder. “We’re still young!”

“I mean, when we were 15, 16, 17,” Ilya murmured with a shrug. “And would sneak into clubs in Moscow. There were a lot of gay clubs we went to back then.”

“Yeah.” Sveta smiled sadly. “I remember. We were too young at the time to know what turn our country would take.”

“I wasn’t,” Ilya murmured. “I had the kind of people who make the opinions right at home. Two of them. I knew the freedom we had was just an illusion. But your father … He knows about me, Sveta. He made sure Sasha and I knew how to be safe. Safe at the clubs when we chose partners and only knew the name they had given us. And safe when going home to men who might have beaten us to death if they knew about the clubs we frequented.”

Sveta exhaled loudly.

“Maybe he will not be that big of a disappointment,” Ilya said softly.

“Maybe,” Sveta said, but she didn’t look convinced. “When’s the date?”

“We haven’t set a date yet,” Ilya admitted. “It’s all a little chaotic right now. Up until January, we had still planned to keep it all hidden and secret until we both retired.”

Svetlana made a face. “You aren’t going to retire for another ten years or so!”

Ilya shrugged. “That’s what we hope for, at least.”

“And you really thought you could stay hidden for all that time?”

“Don’t judge us,” Ilya complained. “I’m much more concerned about the NHL right now than Russia. They could kick us both out. Or other players could cause career-ending injuries out of pure malice instead of by accident. Hunter has been met with a lot more violence from certain teams, and the League’s never made any official statements about it, no matter how often it was pointed out. Crowell doesn’t want queer players, and he makes that clear behind closed doors every chance he gets. No one calls him out because 80% of the League agrees.”

Svetlana sighed. “Right. So what has changed for you now?” She frowned. “Wait, you said January? Please tell me this is not just about the emergency landing!”

“It’s not,” Ilya assured. “It was the straw that broke the camel’s back, though. I think the decision has been coming for at least a year. We just didn’t talk about how much we were both struggling with … the status quo.”

Svetlana rolled her eyes. “Of course you weren’t talking. Men! Worse even, you’re both jocks! I’m surprised you managed to build anything at all! And then keep it secret for … how many years is it now? I know you were texting ‘Jane’ since at least 2015!”

Ilya laughed. “2010. I did try to seduce him into coming back to my hotel room after the draft in 2009, but he somehow managed to resist my superior charm that one time. Never again after that, though.”

“That’s practically your whole adult life!”

Ilya shrugged. “High time we marry, right?”

“You got someone who is helping you plan the wedding, right?” Svetlana asked. “Because if you don’t, it will be chaos!”

“It’s just gonna be something small in our backyard,” Ilya said. “Invitations are private and verbal only. Less chance of someone leaking it before we’re ready if there aren’t any cards with our names on them floating around, you know?”

Svetlana shook her head. “Someone needs to take charge of this who isn’t you or Shane! Otherwise we could all end up standing around awkwardly without any chairs or music.”

“Are you offering?” Ilya asked with a grin.

Sveta glared at him. “I hear Yuna Hollander is very invested in her son’s life. Is she doing any of the wedding planning?”

“She is still bemoaning the fact that we’re going to marry in my backyard instead of at some grand location.”

“I need her contact information,” Sveta decided, and Ilya laughed loudly.

***

The last place Shane wanted to be right now was the conference room of the hotel the Voyageurs were staying in after flying from Tampa to New York. Their next game was against the Admirals tomorrow afternoon, early enough that they’d fly home that evening. Today was supposed to be a free day, without any training scheduled. Despite that, the whole team had been gathered by Theriault in the conference room for a post-game analysis of the lose to Tampa. Shane would rather be somewhere quiet and alone right now, where he could wait for a message from Ilya, who was in Boston at the moment, currently having breakfast with Svetlana if his plans hadn’t changed.

Shane had expected it, though, to be honest. It was the third game in a row they had lost, and the mood of the team wasn’t great. Shane hadn’t expected the team to crumble this quickly, despite what Ilya, JJ, and Hayden had all said about the team being built to be so utterly reliant on him instead of supported by him.

Theriault stopped the video of their last game at a moment during the first period where Shane had pushed the puck behind the blue line, doing his part of a play to outmaneuver Tampa’s defense in a way they had practiced for months. The very same play had turned out perfectly later during the third period. But that time Shane hadn’t been depending on Comeau, but on one of their rookies. The rookie in the third period had been where he had been supposed to be, in contrast to Comeau in the first period.

“Care to explain what happened here?” Theriault barked and stared at Shane.

Shane held the coach’s gaze without flinching. He knew what was expected of him: lower your gaze, accept the reprimand, apologize for the mistake without trying to find excuses, and promise to do better. This was how mistakes were discussed among the Voyageurs—in front of the whole team, and with a lot of blame before there were any suggestions about adjustments. It had always been like this, even when Theriault had still been assistant coach during Shane’s first couple of years with this team. And Shane had known similar tactics, if maybe a little softer, from the teams he had played for during his youth.

Shane counted to ten in his head, the silence in the room growing heavier with every passing second. Then Shane turned his gaze to Comeau, and he asked, “What happened, Gil?”

Comeau’s face turned red in an instant. “What, you’re trying to blame me for your mistakes?”

“You were the one who didn’t get into place,” Shane said, keeping his tone flat.

“Don’t try to deflect, Hollander,” Theriault snapped. “You’ve been fumbling all your passes for the past several games! It’s the third time we’ve lost because of you!”

Shane blinked slowly. “Please show me all those passes I’ve fumbled.”

Silence fell over the room again. Most of the younger players—the rookies and the guys who were only in their second or third season—looked as if their whole world had been turned upside down. There hadn’t been any player in the past couple of years who’d spoken up in this kind of situation. Those players didn’t stay long with the team. Shane couldn’t remember a single player who had made it a whole season with the Voyageurs if they hadn’t gotten with the program of how the coaches ran the team.

Shane remembered being that young, watching one of the older players standing up to coaches and wondering how anyone could ever do that. Then seeing how those players who did had been traded away over and over again, the message had been clear. He had wanted to retire with the Voyageurs; that had been a decision he’d made the moment he had been drafted. That had been the NHL career he had dreamed of, being successful for years with the team that drafted him, retiring two decades later without ever having played for another team, having his number retired and jersey raised into the rafters after his last game.

That had been his plan all along. Shane liked plans, they made life feel so much easier. He made plans, and he followed those plans. And he still hadn’t learned how to deal with those plans falling apart. Maybe that was the reason why it had been so difficult for him to think about options where he wasn’t a Voyageur anymore.

But now Shane knew he would not stay with the Voyageurs. And it was freeing in a way he hadn’t expected. It also meant he didn’t have to bite his tongue anymore. It didn’t matter what he did anymore, because Theriault already knew Shane was leaving, too. The coach’s reprimands had turned sharper since that conversation, and Shane had reached his breaking point.

“You really want to do that?” Theriault asked sharply. “Go through all your mistakes in front of everyone?”

“Are all of them the kind of mistakes where you’re asking me to explain another player’s failures like just now?” Shane asked. “Or will there actually be something in that list of things where we can work on making my own performance better?”

Hayden exhaled sharply beside him, and JJ looked at him from the other side of the table with raised brows.

“Or is the only mistake you’re really holding against me that I’m gay?” Shane continued.

“Keep that shit out of here,” Drapeau muttered.

Shane looked at him and then at Comeau. “That’s what I have been doing.”

“It’s not,” Comeau spat. “You should’ve kept your fucking mouth shut, period, fag. No one here wanted to know anything about how sick you are!”

“I, for one, am grateful for Shane’s trust,” Hayden said. “Even though it was misplaced with nearly everyone else in the room.”

JJ nodded, but Drapeau talked over him, “The likes of Hunter and Hollander should’ve never been allowed on the ice! And they would’ve never been allowed to take up space in the league if they hadn’t lied!”

“You think being gay gives them some kind of superpower, and that’s why Shane and Scott Hunter both are better players than you?” JJ asked in a mocking tone.

“Enough!” Theriault barked. “I’ve warned you, Hollander! You are—”

Shane cocked his head and stared at the coach as he interrupted him, “I assume half the team already knows, because privacy about certain topics is clearly not something afforded on this team. So, for the rest of you who haven’t been told by Coach yet, I will come out publicly after this season.”

“You won’t, not if you know what’s good for you,” Theriault said darkly.

Shane shrugged. “Nothing you said in our meeting could change my mind, Coach. Nothing that’s happened since then has changed my mind. And nothing will.”

“You’re dragging the whole team into the mud with you!” Comeau hissed.

“No, that’s you, when you’re not where you’re supposed to be so other players can pass to you,” Shane said without looking away from Theriault.

“You’re a shit captain, you always have been,” Comeau spat. “They should’ve never given you that C!”

“And you think you’d be better?” JJ asked with a scoff. “You aren’t the one who led us to the cup last year.”

Drapeau rolled his eyes. “This team dragged the fag, not the other way around.”

“Stop using that fucking word,” Hayden snapped.

Shane appreciated the effort, but he knew it wouldn’t change anything. He’d heard much worse over the years, sometimes even aimed at him directly since he had come out to the team. He hated it, but for the most part, a lot of things had just lost all meaning to him. Shane had learned by 13 that calling out a teammate for using a slur didn’t do anything but make them double down on the use of that particular slur and every other one they could think of if the protest wasn’t backed up by the coach or anyone else with more authority.

“I thought he is so proud of it,” Drapeau said, then he turned a grin full of teeth at Shane. “You want to tell the whole world about it, after all. Just calling the facts as they are—you’re a fag.”

Shane gave him his best media smile. “You’re going to call me that in the press room, too, then? Next season, when they’re asking you why I beat you so badly with my new team?”

“Looking forward to it,” Drapeau said.

“There will be no new team for you,” Comeau said with a mean laugh. “No one will take you. And we don’t want you anymore.”

“I’m going to remind you of this the next time I’m lifting the cup over my head,” Shane said with a cold smile.

***

“You know, this is a great idea,” JJ said, staring at the table with a frown and drumming his fingers against the wood. “How fast can you get this all set up? Because we’re going to need this group soon.”

Shane sighed deeply as he watched Scott and Eric exchange a startled look. In theory, the Kingfisher wasn’t open for the afternoon yet, but Shane, JJ, and Hayden had still met here with Scott and Eric to talk about Scott’s idea. For Shane, it wasn’t the main reason why he was here, but it was a good cover should anyone else ask. Not that he thought many of the other Voyageurs would care one way or another why they were at the Kingfisher. They’d just make their usual homophobic assumptions, as the meeting earlier had shown.

“What’s going on?” Scott asked.

At the same time, Eric asked, “Is this about whatever is going on with the Voyageurs on the ice?”

Hayden winced. “That noticeable already? It’s just been a few games.”

“It’s been the entire season,” Eric said with raised brows. “I didn’t watch many of your games last season. But I have seen every one of your games this season.”

JJ chuckled. “Did you turn into a Montreal fan in your retirement?”

“No,” Eric made a face and glared at JJ. “But last time your lot won a cup, the season after was like you were on fire. So, I wanted to see if you’d repeat that. Instead, I’ve been trying to figure out why your team just doesn’t seem to click anymore. But it has gotten noticeably worse over the last couple games.”

JJ and Hayden looked at Shane.

He sighed. “Not every team supports their captain after he comes out to them. You’ve probably been very lucky to be on one of the maybe two or three good teams in that regard, Scott.”

“Fucking assholes,” Eric muttered with a frown.

Shane shrugged and hid behind taking a sip of his water. Kyle, Eric’s partner, was somewhere in the back of the bar working on paperwork, but he had made everyone mocktails when they had arrived. It had taken Shane a lot of convincing before Kyle had accepted that Shane was happy with just water. Though, he had been tempted for a moment to ask for a beer instead.

“Shane’s not gonna be on the ice tomorrow,” Hayden said. “Theriault benched him for two games earlier today because of an argument during post-game analysis.”

“That’s harsh,” Scott said. “Why would he bench anyone for that? Especially your captain. And unquestioningly the best player on your team!”

“I informed him a while ago that I intend to come out in the summer,” Shane said. “He threatened in turn to end my career if I really went through with it. Management supports him. The tone has become harsh since then.”

“The tone has been fucking harsh ever since you came out,” JJ said angrily.

Shane shrugged. “Yeah, sure. But it’s worse now. Or maybe it just feels like that because I’ve lost every bit of tolerance I had for it.”

“If they’re targeting you for being gay, that’s a discrimination lawsuit waiting to happen, Hollzy,” Scott said. “You shouldn’t let that slide.”

“I guess I’ll see what they’ll do in the summer.” Shane shifted in his chair, uncomfortable. “That’s not a route I’d want to take if I can avoid it. I’m going to be a free agent in July. We’ll see where I end up.”

“Ottawa,” Hayden coughed under his breath with a shudder.

Shane poked him with his elbow, but couldn’t quite stop the grin. Farah had promised to work on that, but Shane still tried very hard not to hope. If he didn’t hope, he couldn’t be disappointed after all.

“However it shakes out, we have to expect drama from the Voyageurs, I assume?” Scott asked. “You’re right, it would be great if we could have this already in place to support you as a group, Shane. But you have my individual support, no matter what.”

“Mine, too,” Eric said. “Not sure how much I can do, though. Most days, I’m pretty happy that I don’t have anything to do with the League anymore. A lot of guys have chosen not to deal with me anymore after I came out.”

“Scott already knows this,” Shane said and watched Eric carefully. “As do JJ and Hayden, of course. But there is a little more to my story, and the world will learn that this summer, too.”

Scott shook his head and took a deep breath. “Still feels surreal!”

Shane ignored him. “I’ve been in a relationship with Ilya Rozanov for a long time. We’re going to get married in the summer and make our relationship public. We’d like both of you and your partners to be there, if you want to.”

Eric blinked slowly. Then he said, “That makes a lot of sense, surprisingly.”

“It does?” JJ and Scott asked at the same time and with similar tones of disbelief.

Hayden shrugged. “I hate to admit it, but once you see them together, it really does.”

“I’m happy to come to your wedding!” Eric said with a grin.

Shane was grateful that, for once, he didn’t have to deal with any kind of incredulity. As far as Shane remembered, it was the first time someone just accepted the news as fact without questioning him and Ilya. “I’ll send you the exact date when we know it. And please don’t talk about it with anyone except your partners. We’re trying to keep it quiet. It feels a little like we’re rushing to get to a point where we can do it on our own before someone leaks anything about us.”

“Do you think anyone from the Voyageurs would out you?” Scott asked worriedly.

Shane closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing for a moment. “Maybe. I don’t know. I … I’ve stopped picking up the slack for the rest of the team.” He waved his hand at Eric. “I’m sure that’s what you’ve noticed over the past couple of games. But JJ suggested a while ago that maybe some people on the team are trying to get me injured in a way that might end my career. Make me retire a Voyageur, get me out of the League without a scandal tarnishing the team.”

“Your defense has been lacking,” Eric agreed softly.

Shane shrugged. “It’s difficult to wrap my head around, but knowing that I won’t stay with this team … that I don’t have to fight to prove I’ve earned my place on the team … It’s been a little bit of a relief.”

“Yeah, don’t give them more of you than they deserve,” Scott agreed darkly.

“You need to be careful that they can’t turn this back on you, though,” Eric said. “Then again, at least yesterday it was abundantly clear that you weren’t the one slacking off.”

“My mother is working on a stats thing,” Shane said. “Because we expect that they are going to try to blame me. The team won’t go far this season.”

“No, it’s been clear for a while that getting to the playoffs would already be a fight,” Eric said. “Although, most people also seem to expect that you’ll bang out some miracle for the rest of the regular season.”

“Like Scott and your team did back in 2017?” Shane asked with a grin.

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Won’t happen,” Hayden said. “Not with the mood in the room.”

“I can’t imagine that anyone feels comfortable there right now,” Scott said. “I’ve been in a couple of tense locker rooms. It doesn’t just affect the players who are in the middle of the conflict.”

“I think I scared some of our rookies earlier when I talked back to Theriault,” Shane confessed.

“It was the right thing to do!” JJ said, and Hayden nodded.

Shane shrugged. “We’re going to have some very uncomfortable weeks ahead of us. I don’t think I’ll be the only one to leave the Voyageurs at the end of this season.”

 

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