Chapter Text
Shane waits until Hayden's back is turned. "Hey."
Hayden, laying on his hotel bed and scrolling through TV channels, looks up. Shane is standing by the door, shoes on and a jacket in his hand.
"You heading out? I thought Coach said we couldn't leave the hotel ‘cause of the flight tomorrow morning. You celebrating somewhere?" Hayden asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Um..." Shane shifts his weight, clearly trying to avoid the question.
Hayden hesitates for a moment too, before narrowing his eyes. It's 8pm on a Thursday, there isn't much to do in Boston, except celebrate their playoff win with the team- which coach said they weren't allowed to do. Something about saving it for the Stanley. They're in Boston, though, and suddenly things click. "Oh! You're going to see Lily, right?"
A faint smile crosses Shane's face, and he awkwardly meets Hayden's eyes. "Yeah. I was... kinda hoping you'd cover for me?"
Hayden's expression softens. He supposed Shane was on borrowed time with this guy, and Coach's curfew didn't really help things. "Alright, man. Don't turn this into a habit, though- you can't ditch me all the time!"
"I know, I know. Thanks, though. I'll be back by 11."
"Yeah, man." He looks back towards the TV. "Tell him your roommate says hi, or whatever."
"Right. Bye Hayden."
"See ya."
Shane walks out the door just as he gets a notification that his Uber has arrived. He steps down the hallway, taking a deep breath. Things were going to be fine. He was just going to see Ilya- maybe the curfew made things more complicated, but it was nothing they hadn't done before.
At Ilya's house, Shane doesn't knock. The door is unlocked, and he steps inside and shrugs off his jacket, lining up his shoes next to Ilya's by the door.
"Ilya?"
"In the kitchen." Ilya's voice echoes down the hall, unmistakable. Shane walks through the house, and sees him leaning over a simmering pot on the stove. "You're late."
"I'm exactly on time!" Shane cracks a smile, and takes Ilya in- his sleeves are rolled up, and his hair is damp, probably from the shower. Immediately when their eyes lock, an unguarded smile breaks across his face.
"Come here."
Shane doesn't hesitate. He steps close, into Ilya's warmth, and the kiss is soft and slow and devastating in how normal it feels. No urgency, no pressure. Ilya's hand cups the back of Shane's neck, thumb brushing just under his ear, and the touch is so familiar it makes Shane's chest ache. He leans into it, fingers curling into the fabric of Ilya's shirt like he needs to anchor himself.
Hi,” Shane murmurs when they finally pull apart, foreheads still touching.
“Hi,” Ilya echoes, quieter.
"I'm sorry, for the record. About the game."
"No, you are not. Is okay, though. Boston will destroy you next season. And I will destroy you in the All-Star game." Ilya softly smiles as Shane rolls his eyes. Truthfully, he was upset that the Bears were out of the playoffs. He pushed the thought down, though. He could think about that another time, when Shane wasn't standing in the middle of his kitchen.
"Right. What are you making?" Shane leans in close, putting his arm around Ilya's waist as he moves to look. Ilya gives him a peck on the cheek, then moves an arm to stir some sort of sauce.
"Pasta. I had to do something while I was waiting the 1 million years it took you to get here."
Shane pushes him away, smile wide. "Oh my god I was on time! Shut up!"
Ilya shuts him up with another kiss, hand on the small of his back, and they stumble towards the couch, not breaking contact. Ilya pushes Shane onto the cushions, and Shane takes in the closeness for a second, before pushing back.
"Wait, wait. You don't feel weird about this?"
"What? What is weird? You are here, in my house, and we will make out while dinner is cooking. Normal." Ilya kisses him again, and Shane stops him to talk.
"No, idiot. We're 'making out' with every window in your house, like, wide open. Let me up, I wanna close the blinds at least."
Ilya relents, letting Shane up. "Fine. This is just like Vegas, though. You were just fine to let the whole world see what we did there, da?"
Shane approaches the back window with another eyeroll. "That was different, okay? We were on, like, the 16th floor, and it was a huge hotel. You had to convince me it was fine, too. This is Boston, and you basically have a glass house. What if your neighbors could see, or something?"
"Neighbors do not care, Hollander. Even if they did, is private."
Shane still reaches for the blinds, habit ingrained deep from their years of sneaking around. He doesn’t even think about it- just steps up, fingers closing around the cord. The window is cold beneath his palm. He pulls, slow and deliberate, the slats sliding shut one by one. Maybe, for a moment, he imagines a world where they don't need to do this.
But after a second, his reflection stares back at him in the glass. Open. Bare. In love. Maybe that should alarm him too, but as the room dims, Ilya’s behind him instantly, chest to Shane’s back, arms wrapping around his waist. He presses a kiss into Shane’s shoulder, then another, then rests his chin there like it belongs.
“You okay?” Ilya asks softly.
Shane closes his eyes. “Yeah.” The word doesn’t feel like a lie until later.
When Shane gets back to the hotel, it's 10:45 and the room is dark except for a dim TV glow. Hayden's sitting on his bed, legs crossed, watching something loud. "You're back early."
Shane drops onto his own bed and just sits for a minute. He doesn't take his shoes off, and doesn't answer. Hayden turns the TV down.
"Hey."
"I'm fine." He answers too quickly. Hayden sets the remote aside, turning to look at Shane.
"You don't look fine."
Shane presses his palms to his face, fingers in his hair like he's trying to pull himself together. He's tired of hiding, tired of pretending everything is fine. Clearly he hasn't been very convincing, either. Just this once, he decides to open up. Hayden is his best friend. He knows about 'Boston Lily,' he knows that Shane is gay. If anyone would understand, it would be him, right? “Hayden,” he says, voice cracking just enough that it gives him away. “Can I… can I talk to you about something?”
Hayden’s expression softens immediately. He shifts closer. “Yeah. Of course, man. What’s going on?”
Shane laughs once, sharp and humorless. “I really fucked up.”
Hayden frowns. “What did you do?”
“I-” Shane drags a hand through his hair, breathing hard. “I think I’m in love.”
Hayden blinks. Then he smiles, small but genuine. “Holy shit. Shane, that’s- isn’t that a good thing?”
Shane shakes his head. “No. No, it’s not.”
“With Lily?” Hayden asks carefully.
Shane nods, staring at the carpet. “Yeah.”
Hayden leans back on his hands. "I mean... you've been seeing him forever. I'd kinda be surprised if you weren't."
Shane looks away, crossing his arms. Hayden waits.
"It... It can't work." Shane says finally. "It'll never work. I just- I can't keep doing this. I can't keep seeing him for- what? One night? Two? Like, tonight it was literally just a couple of hours."
He hesitates, quickly taking a breath. "I- I'm gonna explain some things, but before I do, I'm just gonna say that I can't tell you who it is, okay? And- And if you guess, or you have some hunch or anything, just ignore it."
Hayden leans in closer, aware of Shane's seriousness. "Okay, man. Yeah."
Shane takes another deep breath. "Lily. I think I actually love him. I've never felt the way I do for anybody but him. Honestly, sometimes I feel like he's all I ever think about, even though we only see each other, like, once every two months. And I know... I know he feels the same way about me." Shane says, words tumbling faster now, like if he doesn’t get them out they’ll drown him.
"And I think, really, that the NHL would be fine with me being gay. There's always going to be dicks in the locker room, but for the most part I feel like things would be okay. Scott Hunter proved that, right?"
Shane leans back, looking away again, choked up.
"The way things are for us, though... I don't think it could ever happen. I'm not giving you any details, but- he's a public figure. Public enough, that if word came out about us it would be... bad. Scandal, bad. Definitely enough to get me traded, maybe even knocked down to the AHL. Some of the Voyageurs would probably want that, if they knew."
"Wait- seriously? You don't think any of our guys would understand? I mean, I know that it's higher-ups that would make that kind of decision, but the Voyageurs- we're your friends, dude."
Shane shakes his head. "No. We're all friends, I know that, but they wouldn't get it. Not to mention things would be bad for Lily, too- I just-" Shane says, voice breaking completely now. His eyes blur, tears spilling over despite his best effort to stop them. “I love him so much, Hayden. He’s it for me. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t even see anyone else.”
"Hey. Hey. Look at me." Shane doesn't. He scrubs at his face with the heel of his hand, and tries to steady his breathing. "Shit, I'm sorry, man. Really. You know that I'm always on your side, right? And if any of this actually went down- If people found out about this, if you chose to go through with him, anything. I would have your back."
"I know. I just can't do it, Hayds. I feel like I have to choose between hockey and, like, the love of my life. And right now, at least, I have to choose hockey."
"Hey, Shane, c'mere." Hayden takes him in a hug, and Shane rests his head on Hayden's shoulder as tears continue to fall. "I'm here." Hayden says quietly. "You know that, right?" Shane nods, tears still sliding down his cheeks.
After a long moment, Hayden nudges him gently. "You want a distraction?"
Shane lets out a shaky laugh. "Yeah."
Hayden grabs the remote, scrolling until he finds some horror movie he knows Shane has been bugging him about watching. They sit side by side, shoulders touching, Shane's phone overturned on the nightstand next to him- covered enough that when he gets a call from 'Lily,' he doesn't see it. Eventually, Shane falls into a fitful sleep, and Hayden lets him. He studies Shane’s face for a long moment- creased brow finally smooth, lashes dark against his cheeks. There’s something tight in Hayden’s chest, a mix of fondness and worry and that helpless feeling you get when someone is hurting in a way you can’t fix.
“Dumbass,” Hayden murmurs, not unkind.
The movie keeps playing, forgotten.
Hayden wakes before his alarm, like he always does- having four young kids does that to you.
The room is dim, and Shane's still asleep, turned over facing the other side of the room. Hayden slowly sits up, and reaches for his phone out of habit.
It's 6:02 a.m. and there's a missed call.
5:30 a.m, from his wife.
His stomach drops. He glances instinctively at Shane, making sure he hasn't stirred, then slips out of bed and pads into the bathroom, door clicking shut behind him. He leans against the sink and texts back.
Everything okay?
The reply comes almost instantly.
You should really check Twitter. Is Shane okay? Have you talked to any of the Voyageurs? Call me later.
Hayden stares at the screen, perplexed. He opens Twitter. The first thing he sees is a name- two names, actually. Shane Hollander is #1 trending. Right below him, at #2, is Ilya Rosanov. Not goal replays or trade rumors, just their names. Hayden's thumb hovers, then taps on Shane's. The top post is a video- and before he even has a chance to think, he hits play.
It starts grainy, shaky. It's nighttime, and it's a backyard shot of a nice-looking house. It looks familiar, but Hayden can't place where he's seen it before. That is, until he sees the video zoom in on a figure inside- unmistakably, it's Ilya Rosanov. Wearing a Bears shirt, to boot. He's leaning over the stove, until he looks up at someone approaching from the front of the house. Even through the grainy footage, Hayden's stomach drops. He can't see the person's face, but he knows at once that it must be Shane.
The camera zooms, and he steps into frame, laughing at something Ilya must have said. They kiss- slow, and obviously familiar. Hayden watches, frozen, until the two separate- now, they're on the couch- and what must be Shane gets up and walks towards the back window.
Before it was ambiguous, for Shane at least. It could have been a similar looking guy, someone with the same build, maybe just a coincidence. Now, though, Hayden watches what is undeniably Shane look out towards the camera- closing the blinds and laughing as Ilya Rosanov shuts him up with a hug and an unmistakable kiss.