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Valentine's Day was stupid.
It was without a doubt the silliest holiday ever, and Shane hated it.
In the ten or so years he’d been with Ilya they’d never celebrated it – weird schedules preventing them from being together and all. Ilya always sent him some incredibly horny valentine via text in the morning, to which Shane replied with how much of an idiot Ilya was and that was that.
Ilya had again sent him a silly text that morning, a bit sweeter than horny for a change. Shane had replied that it all sucked, but he loved him and missed him.
And now, he was settling on the couch, Anya cuddled into his side, to watch his team – and his husband – play a game he wasn’t at. He’d twisted his knee awkwardly a couple games ago, and it made more sense for him to sit a few games out and rehab it with their team of trainers in Ottawa than risk making it worse before the team’s likely playoff run.
It was logical, but it didn’t mean Shane had to be happy about it.
He was about to respond to his mom’s text about why their backup goalie was starting instead of Wyatt when the doorbell rang. He had absolutely no idea who could be visiting. He was even more surprised when he found a delivery person at the door.
“Hi?” he questioned.
“Good evening, sir,” the young lady at the door smiled brightly with her greeting, obviously containing some of her excitement at Shane answering the door. “These are for you!”
“Um, I didn’t order anything,” Shane said as he grabbed the box that she thrust towards him, not wanting it to land on his front porch.
“Nope, you didn’t. They’re from Lily.” She was smirking at him as she said it, and it only grew as Shane knew his eyes doubled in size.
“That is not what that sounds like,” Shane said quickly.
Her soft laugh couldn’t be contained at that. “We know, don’t worry. Enjoy, Mr. Hollander. Feel better soon!” She turned and left, leaving Shane standing in the doorway.
He made his way to the kitchen and opened up the box and his confusion melted into fondness and missing his husband even more. He snapped a picture and sent it to Ilya with a heart emoji, reiterating how much he missed him. Then he brought the box to the couch just as Ilya was getting set to take the opening face off, and took a bite out of one of the donuts Ilya had sent him.
He was in bed, hours later, when he finally heard back from his husband. Shane picked up the video call and didn’t care that he probably looked like a love sick puppy.
“You sent me heart shaped donuts,” he mostly whined as a greeting, and Ilya just smiled wider.
“Of course. It is Valentine’s Day.”
“We don’t do that though.”
Ilya just raised an eyebrow and flipped the camera. Shane finally noticed Ilya was back in his hotel room, and was standing in front of one of the beds. A bed covered in rose petals, with a plate of chocolate covered strawberries in the middle.
“Shit, I cancelled that,” Shane sighed as Ilya came back on the screen.
“We do not do Valentine’s Day,” Ilya parroted with a soft smile as he plopped a strawberry in his mouth.
Shane groaned and shook his head, more in frustration than anything. “It was the first year we were together for it. I just thought… I wanted to do something-“
“I know. I was going to get you flowers, have them delivered here. I did not think you would want anything after your text this morning. Then we came to the hotel before game and I found this.”
“I was just grumpy ‘cause I wasn’t with you guys. And with you.” Ilya smiled at him and Shane’s heart did that swoopy thing it often did when Ilya looked at him that way. “So why the change of heart this year?”
“Because before, I never knew when you were home, with teammate maybe. Or you were travelling. It was hard to plan.”
“I could have been at my parents’ tonight.”
“I asked Mom this afternoon. She said you turned down her invitation. And why have you never done anything like this before,” Ilya swung his arm around the bed he was now sitting on, rose petals be damned.
“Same reason as you. I always worried we’d get caught somehow when I did know where you were. I wasn't sure if you’d like it either.”
“Makes sense. How was PT today, by the way? You did not mention.”
“Was fine. I should be good by the time you’re back this weekend.”
“Good. Because I,” Ilya said, picking up a handful of petals, “am packing all of these and I want a rematch when I am home.”
“A redo, not a rematch,” Shane chuckled. “And, you’re on. I want to celebrate the stupid cheesy holiday with you. Can’t promise the donuts’ll make it until then though.”
“Was the raspberry ones you like?” Shane nodded. “Good. And yes, I want that too. Silly holiday and all,” Ilya answered on a yawn.
“Bed time for you, mister OT goal scorer. Call me in the morning?”
“Always. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
“And Shane? Happy valentine’s day.”