Chapter Text
Hayden answers his phone with the hand not currently occupied by Jade's salon game, "Hello?"
"Hey man, are you and Jackie free on Friday night?" Shane sounds uncharacteristically nervous. Ruby zooms past his face in a superhero cape, headed for the living room.
"Yeah, we should be – Hey! No jumping on the couch cushions! – Why? Are you okay?"
"Oh, yeah, this is a good news dinner." Shane laughs and Hayden's hackles, which had automatically risen at his best friend's tone, begin to lower themselves again. "Very good and exciting news."
"Finally got a lady for me to meet?" He can't help resorting to their usual line of teasing. One of these days, Shane is going to say–
"Well, you're definitely going to meet someone very important to me. Someone I've been ready to introduce you to for, uh, for a while now," Hollander sounds genuinely giddy. Whoever she is, this gal must be the one. How the sneaky bastard has managed to hide her from Hayden while their relationship develops is beyond his understanding. Hollz is a fucking terrible liar.
Ooo, he thinks. Maybe it's Boston Lily. She's always sniping at Hollz in their chats, meeting him blow-for-blow and making him blush at inopportune moments. Usually before a game. They'd probably make an incredible couple if they ever fucking committed. They've been texting each other for, what, at least five years at this point?
"See you Friday, then! Text me the deets?"
"Will do, man. See you then."
"See ya."
Jade proudly lifts the fingernails she's been painting into Hayden's field of vision for him to admire. "Ta da!"
The solid-color base coats are almost entirely 'in the lines' of his cuticle beds. "Very nice, sweetheart!"
He kinda likes the alternating red and blue pattern she's chosen, obviously meant to match the Metros' jerseys. Even the somewhat haphazard layer of silver glitter smeared on top looks nice when he rotates it under the ceiling light. Jade motions impatiently, "Give me your other hand, Daddy! I wanna make them match!"
He can't argue with that. She takes the un-painted hand and gets to work.
A few feet to their left, Ruby shrieks victoriously and leaps off the couch, delivering the People's Elbow to her enormous stuffed hedgehog. Despite the fact that both of them are sweet and giggly little girls, his daughters are about as different as kids can get. Both of them work as arbiters of cosmic justice for Hayden's early party-boy ways, for sure, but he wouldn't ask either kid to change their core personality.
As he watches them both – one intently focused on her task, tongue sticking out from between her teeth as she squints to keep the brush from slipping; the other absolutely decimating a series of villainous plushies – Hayden experiences his first Girl Dad realization. It rips everything he thought was normal out from under him and doesn't put much back: the world is going to tell one of these two beautiful, outgoing, creative little angels that her interests are too loud and violent and boyish for her to enjoy. And it's not the one who's painting his nails.
Someday that girl might come to practice, his vicious little Ruby, destroyer of worlds, and she may hear JJ or Comeau or literally anyone say "What kind of pussy moves were those?" or "Your wife is glad I'm back in town, eh?" or, worst of all, "You hit like one of Pike's little girls."
He's heard it said before during practice, usually after a particularly weak offense. With a guilty twitch that earns him grouchy glares from Jade, Hayden realizes how much he's been slacking when it comes to showing up as a Dad. Sure, he plays with the girls like he is right now, and makes sure to help his wife around the house, but how much safer is he making the world for them by staying silent around his team? By letting 'the guys' say stupid shit and act that way toward women?
How many times has he been shitty to women, casually, because it's just a part of sports culture to demean them so much? He's been watching almost nothing but PWHL lately, and those Team USA women could absolutely kick some Metro ass this season! Or really anyone's ass. Their goalie was a brick wall.
Jade has picked up where the pattern left off on his other thumb, making sure to stay consistent. "Make sure you keep the edges clean, peanut, so I can wear these to my next big game."
"Will you really?!" she squeals, giving him such a genuine a thousand-watt grin that his heart melts all over again. For all the chaos they create on a daily basis, he loves these girls with his entire being. He's struck with the sudden urge to make them smile like this more often.
"Absolutely," he nods.
And he does.
Hayden Pike wears those sparkly Metros-themed nails to practice the next day, where he proudly shows off Jade's improved fine-motor skills and gushes over how smart she's getting. Anyone who makes a rude comment gets flipped two sparkly middle fingers (and several plain middle fingers from other supportive teammates). He wears them to their game against Detroit, where he scores two goals in the first fifteen minutes.
All three members of the Hollander family cheer their hearts out from the stands, always supportive even when Shane should probably be at home in bed. The stubborn fuck.
When the game is over, two reporters meet him at the rink's edge.
"Spectators have pointed out your nails during some fights," a fresh-faced young woman begins, microphone held out with shaky fingers, "Do you mind sharing who painted them for the game?"
Hayden… actually likes this question? It's been a minute since he's gotten to openly brag about the kids on air. He grins, "That would be my daughter, Jade. She just figured out how to color inside the lines and I couldn't be more proud. I mean, look at how smooth her brush skills are!"
He wiggles his fingers for the camera. This feels out of character, somehow, but those are his kids. Hayden wants to make damn sure they know how proud he is of their accomplishments. He wants them to be proud of him and what he stands for.
The reporter gains some confidence after this interaction and smiles back, "That's amazing! What an awesome Dad to show off her artwork. And what awesome skills you showed tonight on the ice–"
She asks him a few technical questions about the game and thanks him at the end by saying, "I can't wait to see what design your daughter comes up with for the next game, and I'm sure the fans are just as eager."
"Yeah," he replies. "With the way I scored tonight, maybe Jade's nail art is my good luck charm."
Jackie and Hayden arrive on Shane's front porch at exactly 6pm. Shane expected nothing less; with four kids in the house and a professional athlete husband, Jackie runs their family with an efficiency that rivals Broadway stage managers. Or hockey coaches.
"Hey guys, it's great to see you!" Shane beams, "And great interview the other night, Pike. That must've made Jade's whole week."
"Oh, it absolutely did," Jackie grins right back, greeting him with an air kiss to both cheeks. Shane keeps them on the porch a moment longer.
"Before we go inside, there's some really big news I have to break. If you can't handle it and want to turn around, drive home, and take a long pause before speaking to me again… Well, I wouldn't exactly love it, but I'd understand to a degree."
"Dude, you're freaking me out." Hayden frowns and wraps an arm around Jackie's shoulders. They both tense up, "You said this was good news."
"It's good news for me," Shane gives up trying to explain further and rips the band-aid off: "I'm gay."
Jackie nods, smile already returning to the corners of her mouth. Ah, she must have suspected something.
Hayden stares. His mouth opens, closes… Opens, closes…
Then he takes a deep breath, claps a hand over Shane's shoulder, and says, "That explains, like, so fucking much, dude."
Shane gives a breathless laugh in reply. That wasn't what he'd been expecting at all. Not even fucking close. "Alright, so, come on in and meet my second surprise. This one is probably the harder pill to swallow."
"Am I allowed to make a swallowing joke or are those officially off limits?" Hayden asks. Shane snorts as Jackie promptly smacks him on the arm. She's about to read him the riot act when a deep chuckle from the other end of the living room quickly snatches their attention. "Holy fucking shit."
"That was a good joke, Hayden Pike. I'll allow it."
Desperate for some kind of stress relief after making the big reveal to his two best friends, Shane quickly crosses the room and tucks himself against Ilya's side. "So, uhm, you guys know Ilya. He's my boyfriend as of several months ago."
"But you slammed him into the boards less than three weeks ago," Hayden argues. "You almost got in a fight!"
"Yeah, because we're on opposing teams," Shane huffs. Why is this always the hardest part for people to understand? Their competition in sport has always been the simplest piece of their chemistry to Shane. Having feelings for each other means nothing during the two hours it takes to score goals and support his teammates. "Just because I love him and enjoy seeing him naked doesn't mean I'm going to take it easy on him when we play."
"I would say 'gross' but you've heard worse things from me," Hayden half-laughs, half-wheezes. He's slowly and carefully absorbing everything about this new and unexpected information. Shane doesn't blame him; it was a lot for him at first, too. It still is.
After a long minute, Jackie interjects, "So, you guys want to beat each other fair and square on the ice, and then go home to cuddle it out after? That sounds healthy to me, honestly. If I were allowed to slam Hayden around on the rink for a few hours every handful of months, we'd probably argue a lot less. Not to mention the US and Canadian women's team captains just got engaged."
"They what?" Shane blinks.
"Yeah, dude. Most of their league is gay." Hayden shrugs. He's ready to admit how very invested he's become in PWHL games. "Apparently the difference is that women, uh…"
"They what?" Jackie prompts. Ilya's hand rubs up and down Shane's ribcage, keeping them both calm and centered.
"They respect each other more than male players. They support each other on a basic human level and only compete with each other as athletes. Off the ice, they're one big family. Not everyone, obviously, but the majority seem to support each other's wins rather than whine about losing out."
"These friends of yours do not suck," Ilya drawls. He presses a slow, warm kiss to Shane's temple. For all Shane's own bulk and strength, something about the way Ilya holds him makes him feel very squished and safe.
Hayden's eyes widen a fraction and he gasps aloud. Shane startles. "What's wrong?!"
"You!" he points at Ilya accusingly. Shane immediately readies himself to stop a fight but, to his surprise, Hayden ends the sentence with: "You're Boston Lily, aren't you!?"
"Ha! Pike is pretty smart." Ilya gives his temple another doting kiss. "We should keep him. And Jackie is smart for choosing him, so she can also stay."
Shane pinches his boyfriend's hip and Ilya jokingly cringes away, swearing lightly in Russian. Hayden and Jackie watch their domestic banter with wide eyes. All throughout dinner, wine, dessert, and their lively conversation on the couch for over an hour, it looks like the couple is waiting for the moment where Shane and Ilya drop their act and start throwing punches.
That moment never comes, and both smiling Pikes look settled by the time 'goodnights' are said.
Ilya tugs Shane closer by the waistband of his pants and nuzzles against his throat. "Bed?"
"Yeah, babe. Carry me?"
Fondly mumbled Russian curses fill the air, but Shane gets swept off his feet and carried away – held safe and close by the knight in dented padding he's damn lucky to have.
Svetlana already knows about Ilya's preferences. She arranged for him to meet with Sasha during his visit home, after all. She's tried to keep her comments about queer news stories positive and generally supportive, in case he ever wants to break the news officially. In fact, she already knows which man has his attention. Maybe even his heart.
'Jane' is a terribly obvious moniker, the poor thing. Ilya clearly came up with it.
The realization came fast and hard after she'd caught Ilya watching Hollander's house tour for the sixth time. It was hard to misconstrue the situation: Ilya, alone in his dark living room, while Hollander's yoga pose took up half of the living room wall.
"Why do you watch this guy if you think it's so boring?" she'd asked, like they had't already had this same conversation five times.
"He has a nice ass."
Svetlana snorted and flopped down on the couch, head balanced loosely on his shoulder. "Why don't you fuck him, then?"
"Who says I haven't?" Ilya meant it as a joke, but she's been around for too long and knows his tells. Like the way his voice catches just that little bit at the back of his throat when he wants to hide the truth. It had caught that day, when he said those words.
"I wouldn't put it past you," she laughed. They put on something else, and she'd been able to feel the physical difference in his stress for the rest of the evening.
She'd caught him listening to the episode again while brushing his teeth, his headphones keeping the smooth narration private but his upturned screen most definitely not. "Falling asleep to his voice, huh?"
"So boring," Ilya had shrugged. Svetlana barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Boring, my beautiful perky ass.
She'd gone home that night without taking him to bed, and things just hadn't been the same ever since. Their situationship is quickly fading back to simply friendship. She's not mad about it in the slightest; there's a pretty American girl waiting for her in NYC.
So when Ilya shows up at her door with Shane Hollander and champagne in tow, she knows exactly what this conversation is about. All she says as she welcomes them into her cozy apartment is, "Congratulations, bastards."
Ilya's smile is easy around Shane in a way it's never been around her (or really anyone, the more she thinks about it later). The two men orbit each other all evening, reading and reacting to their partner's body language more gracefully than dancers. The moment Shane's shoulders start to rise, Ilya's arm slings low around his waist to pull his boyfriend close. Shane relaxes and reanimates in seconds, like Ilya's touch is an energy source. When Ilya's jaw starts to clench, Shane appears to peck his boyfriend's blushing cheek or twine their fingers together.
'Lana is happy for them, of course, but she knows the road ahead won't be easy. Not in this sport. That said, if there is any couple in the goddamned world better suited to handle this situation and make the world a better place when things are settled, she's yet to meet them.
Because Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander are two powerhouse players with stubborn streaks and loyalty beyond all reason. And like she'd predicted all those years ago, Shane does a great job centering Ilya.