Chapter Text
If there is anyone on this earth that Mama would forgive him for telling, Ilya is absolutely certain that it would be Shane. Shane fucking Hollander, who’d taken such wonderful care of his pelt for years, right under Ilya’s stupid nose.
But before Ilya can start to work out just how to shift back, since he barely remembered how to put his fur back on in the first place, there’s a sound from downstairs. It’s unfamiliar, the tones loud and biting against his ears; much more sensitive in this shape than on two legs.
When his ears flick back, Shane’s hands come up to cover them, muffling the echo of the sound still reverberating throughout Shane’s wooden floored home.
“Doorbell.” Shane mutters. “Probably my parents.”
Shane’s body goes stiff underneath Ilya’s own.
“Shit- My parents.”
Ilya finds himself dumped off to the side as Shane scrambles to his feet, already trotting his way down the hall. Ilya snorts and pads after him, black nails clicking against the wood floors in a fun little click click click.
“Shane! Honey, it’s freezing outside, we just let ourselves in-”
Smells are different, Ilya realizes. He can smell all kinds of things, which is very curious. But right now, Ilya is learning what Shane Hollander smells like when he is panicking, and it rubs his fur the wrong way immediately. Shane has stopped in the hallway, arms spread wide and touching either wall, head hanging low between his shoulders as he mutters a string of curses that would make Marly beam with pride.
“You have to hide.” Shane hisses, turning fast and pointing at Ilya. “My parent’s can not know-”
Shane pauses, his other arm slipping off the wall as he faces Ilya.
“Shit.”
Ilya sits and wags his tail, knows his face must be doing something dopey because Shane almost smiles too. “I guess they probably won’t recognize you like this.”
Ilya snorts, headbutts Shane’s hip, and saunters out into the living room.
Shane’s parents have made themselves at home, his mom unloading a few re-usable grocery bags worth of food into the fridge while his dad helps by standing out of the way.
“Hey, uh. Wasn’t expecting you.” Shane says, and Ilya would laugh if his wolf body knew how. Because Shane is so fucking awkward, it’s adorable. It’s so blatantly fucking obvious that he’s hiding something that Ilya can’t believe he’s managed to hide this thing between them for so long.
“Your meal prep service dropped the order off at the wrong address again. I’m thinking you may need to change providers, I swear you’ve- Who’s that?”
Shane’s scent turns panicked again and he whirls around like Ilya would have taken the time he wasn’t looking to peel off his pelt.
Dipping easily past Shane’s attempts to grab at him, Ilya slinks past him and walks into the kitchen with the same kind of confidence he wears in the locker room. Lesser beings might take issue with walking up to strangers wearing their pelts as a wolf for the first time in too long, but not Ilya fucking Rozanov.
“Oh wow, you’re a big boy aren’t you?” Shane’s dad says, kneeling with a creak and giving Ilya’s ears a thorough scratching; David, that’s his name.
“You’re going to get fur all over your clothes.” the woman says, and this can only be Yuna Hollander; the butt of too many jokes in every locker room but Boston’s and Montreal’s. Despite her protests, she’s closing up the fridge and coming over to pat Ilya on the head too.
His tail is wagging so hard that his back is starting to ache from the use of unfamiliar muscles, but Ilya can’t help tipping his head back to let his mouth hang open, tongue lolling to the side as he stares back at Shane. ‘See? They love me.’ he wants to tell him, and the narrowing of Shane’s eyes in suspicion delights Ilya.
“That’s uh. Roz.”
Yuna’s head immediately snaps up. “Like Rozanov? Shane, that’s terrible PR. You can’t get a dog and-”
“No no, he’s not mine.”
Ilya whines.
David pats his head consolingly, and Ilya immediately decides David is his new favorite Hollander.
“When did you get a dog?” Yuna presses. “It’s not ideal, given how much you travel, you know.”
“I know.” Shane agrees, before shaking his head. “I mean, yeah, that would make sense. If he were my dog. Which he isn’t. He’s just- uh. Staying here. For a couple days.”
“Well. That’s fine then.” Yuna says decisively, like the subject is closed. Shane smells… conflicted. Relieved and unhappy at the same time.
Reluctantly pulling himself away from the fantastic pets David is giving him, Ilya makes his way over to Shane. Sits at his feet and leans into his side. If he had human arms right now, he’d wrap them around Shane’s middle and kiss the side of his face and tell him he’s going to be okay.
Some of this must come through to Shane, because he slumps a little more; Ilya takes the opportunity to nudge him over to the couch, where Shane collapses. Ilya can hardly believe that he’d been in that exact same spot, just minutes ago, human and blissed out and entirely unaware that everything in his life was about to change.
Crawling up onto the couch and ignoring Yuna’s tsk of disapproval, Ilya sprawls himself out over Shane’s lap and makes himself at home.
🎒
“Thanks for bringing the food by.” Shane says, when Mom’s made them all cups of tea and her and Dad have joined him in the living room. He’s fairly certain Ilya has passed out in his lap, but the soft ruff of fur around his neck is warm and gives Shane something to do with his hands while he talks.
“Of course. Sorry to interrupt your evening.” Dad offers, and Shane smiles; if he were awake, Ilya would surely have something witty to say about polite Canadians and genetics.
“It’s uh. It’s actually good that you’re here.” Shane begins, taking a sip of his tea and wincing at how hot it is. He sets it aside, mindful not to spill any on Ilya’s fur.
He’s been thinking about doing this for a while now. And with Ilya here, even disguised as a wolf, Shane felt a sort of giddy resignation that the evening couldn’t really get any weirder.
He would allocate time later to freak out about Ilya being able to shift into a wolf, using the pelt that Shane had been cuddling nightly since he was a child.
“Why’s that?” Mom asks, pulling his head from the clouds and grounding him back in reality.
“I want to tell you something?” Shane says, twiddling strands of Ilya’s fur between his fingers and staring at the myriad of colors that make up Ilya’s beautiful pelt. He’s spent hours upon hours staring at it, but it’s alive now, and it’s Ilya.
“I was going to tell you sooner, but there wasn’t really- I don’t know, a good time?” Shane blows out a long breath and one of Ilya’s ears flicks back towards him. A low rumble emanates from Ilya’s chest, and Shane realizes Ilya’s probably not as asleep as Shane thought he was.
“You can talk to us bud. Anytime.” Dad says, and he’s leaning back in the recliner that Shane had bought at Hayden’s insistence.
“That’s true, and it’s actually a good point, I have a couple of emails I’d like to go over with you too if-”
“Yuna.”
His parents exchange a look, and this time Ilya lifts his head up to look too. When he catches Shane staring at him instead of watching the silent communication his parents have been sharing his whole life, Ilya sits up and gives him an encouraging headbutt to the chin.
“Stop it.” Shane grumbles, wrapping his arms around Ilya’s furred chest and burying his face in his neck ruff.
“You were saying, Shane?” Dad says, his voice muffled from how Shane’s hiding in Ilya’s thick coat.
With a deep breath in, and an even longer exhale, Shane says firmly, “I’m gay.”
Ilya leans into him, head twisting around to lick a wet stripe up Shane’s cheek and he’s so busy recoiling from the hot wet heat of Ilya’s toothy grin to initially clock his parent's reaction.
Or really, the lack thereof.
“Oh, that’s fine dear. Thank you for telling us. I’m thinking we can use that for a couple of brand deals, when you’re ready to talk about it more openly.” Mom offers, and Dad rolls his eyes fondly before addressing him.
“Shane, buddy, that’s great. I’m glad you told us. Are you seeing anyone?”
And Shane had anticipated this question, because of-fucking-course his parents would immediately want to know who he was ‘being gay with’, but he’s still not sure what the answer is. He can’t just tell them about Ilya, because he’s right fucking here, and even if he could, they haven’t put a label on whatever they are.
He’s not even sure Ilya likes him like that.
“Uhm. Kind of?” he answers, and is already kicking himself for the answer when his mother’s gaze turns sharp.
“What’s ‘kind of’?” she asks. “Are you dating someone? Or just-”
The little handwave she gives is going to send Shane into cardiac arrest.
“Just what?” Dad asks, and actually, that’s how Shane is going to die.
In his lap, Ilya is shaking. Shane’s fairly certain that if he could, Ilya would be laughing at him right now.
Ilya’s only saved from being unceremoniously dumped on the floor by the grace that he’s a pleasant physical barrier to keep between Shane and his parents. Like he’s hiding behind a giant pillow; one that’s snugly and trying to lick his face again.
“If I had a boyfriend, I would bring him over to meet you.” Shane assures them.
Ilya’s tail starts to happily thump against the couch.
“That would be nice.” Dad finally says, Mom having given him the subtle ‘I’ll tell you later’ look that Shane’s been politely ignoring since he was seven years old.
“Maybe your boyfriend will be better about wearing your brand deals than you are.” Mom teases as Shane picks up his cup of tea to test the warmth.
“What?” he asks, blowing on it before taking a tentative sip.
“Well, I saw those Adidas in the hall, Shane. They aren’t exactly Reeboks.”
Ilya’s nervous twitch and Shane’s panicked inhale have them both covered in tea in short order, and Dad has to run for the kitchen to get him a towel.
🎒
Shane’s parents don’t stay for long thankfully, because Ilya really needs them to leave. He’s seen exhaustion on Shane before, but now that he can smell it too, it rubs his instincts like a cheese grater on parmesan to have them lingering in Shane’s space.
Plus, he really, really needs to kiss Shane.
The universe has one last knuckle-puck to throw at Ilya for the evening though, as David Hollander steps into the hallway to pull on his coat. Shane and Yuna are in the kitchen reviewing ‘just one more email’ before they leave for the night. Ilya has chosen to see their guests out, hoping they’ll get the message if he lingers by the doorway long enough.
Crouching down to tie his shoes, David Hollander mutters something out of the corner of his mouth that Ilya’s ears might’ve missed entirely had he been wearing two legs instead of four.
“You know, I had a roommate at McGill that was a Selkie.” he says softly, and the blue eyes that Ilya has felt watching him all night suddenly seem far more alert than David’s soft demeanor would allude to.
Ilya freezes, tail folding down mid wag.
Mama didn’t have a word for what they were, but she’d read him stories about Selkies when he was a boy; about how the mythical seal creatures shed their pelts to come on land, just like how he and Mama could take their fur off and put it on again.
“I won’t say anything, if-”
Ilya has never feared an ‘if’ more in his life.
“-you answer me truthfully on these two things.”
Ilya bows his head, just a low dip to convey that he’s listening.
“Does Shane know?”
Ilya nods sharply.
David’s shoulders lose some of their tension.
“Good. Does he know you’re in love with him too?”
And Ilya… doesn’t know. But he should probably tell Shane soon.
To answer David’s question, Ilya flops dramatically to the ground, like he’s been shot, and lets out a long, low whine.
David smiles, shaking his head in commiseration.
“Roz? Are you okay?”
Shane appears in the entry hall and frowns when he sees Ilya sprawled on the floor.
“Oh, you’re just being dramatic. Mom, let me get your coat-”
Stepping carefully around Ilya’s prone furry body, Shane doesn’t spare Ilya a second glance before snagging his mother’s coat off the hook and holding it out for her.
“Thanks for dropping by. Sorry if it was weird.” Shane apologizes. Ilya isn’t sure Shane has had a single normal human interaction in his life.
“You’re okay bud.”
There’s a round of hugging, a brief pat on the head for Ilya from Yuna, and then they’re finally, blessedly gone.
Shane and Ilya both heave long sighs in tandem, and then Shane is on the move, turning off lights and preparing to head upstairs.
Ilya darts upstairs immediately, hoping for a few seconds of time to try and figure out how to get out of his pelt before Shane makes it back to his room.
It’s a very peculiar feeling, willing himself back onto two legs and having to catch his pelt before it falls to the floor. His clothes are still on, which is fucking weird actually, but he tries not to think about it too hard.
Shane seems almost startled when he steps into the room and funds Ilya as a human again. He pauses for half a heartbeat, and then he’s crowding into Ilya’s arms, and Ilya wraps him in a tight hug.
“Thank you.”
Ilya snorts.
“No, I mean it.” Shane draws back enough to look Ilya in the eyes. The pretty dark brown of Shane’s eyes seem to sparkle in the low light he keeps his bedroom lit in, and Ilya finds himself smiling in appreciation.
“You helped me keep my cool, and you didn’t… make it weird.”
“Your parents pet me on the head and your mother asked why I still had my balls, Shane. It was a little weird.” Ilya reminds him.
Shane’s laughter gets buried in Ilya’s chest when he thumps his head forward again.
“God, don’t remind me. That was so fucking awkward.”
“Hm, yes. But you were brave.”
“This has been the weirdest day of my life.” Shane admits, and Ilya squeezes him tighter.
“Has been best day, for me.” he admits, pressing the words and a brief kiss against the side of Shane’s head.
“Really?”
“Sure. Wake up blowjob-”
Shane pinches his side for that one, but it’s fucking true, so…
“-spent the day with league’s second best hockey player.”
Shane grumbles, but doesn’t pinch him again.
“Found a piece of me that I never thought I’d see again-”
The arms around his waist tighten. Later, he’ll have to explain exactly what it means that Ilya gave him his pelt, back in Boston; willingly, if unknowing.
“-and I met my boyfriend's parents.”
Shane goes still against his chest.
“So. Pretty good day.”
Ilya has to fight to keep his tone casual, because they’ve never tried to put a label on what they are, but he can’t leave it the way it’s been. Not anymore.
“Boyfriend?”
Ilya leans back this time, bringing one hand up to Shane’s chin so he can look him in the eye when he says it.
Shane told his parents he was gay. This isn’t a competition, but Ilya’s not going to wuss out on his rival now.
“I love you. You like me. Perfect relationship start, yes?”
Shane looks awestruck for about two seconds before he begins to frown, but it’s still a personal best for Ilya.
“You know I love you too.” Shane argues.
Ily sniffs, swiping at his nose and rolling his shoulders.
“Whatever, is not competition Shane.” he drawls, hoping he doesn’t look as fucking ecstatic as he feels.
Shane’s glare breaks into a blinding grin, and then Ilya’s being kissed within an inch of his life.