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1.
Look, Hayden was trying. He really was, even if Jackie didn’t fully believe him. But the day was coming to an end, and there’s only so many hours a person can spend in the company of Ilya Rozanov.
It was summer, almost a year since Shane properly introduced them over a disastrous dinner. In that time he sort of managed to wrap his head around the fact that his best friend was dating the man he was supposed to hate, but he was definietly not at the acceptance stage just yet.
Because, honestly, what the fuck. Shane apparently locked down this cocky asshole from Boston who probably had a different woman in his bed every night. So, sue Hayden for not trusting Rozanov to not break his best friend’s heart. The guy had a reputation.
But he also couldn’t deny that in the last few months, Shane had been happier than ever. And Rozanov signed with the Ottawa Centaurs just to be closer to him. He basically murdered his own career and then paraded the dead body around.
Maybe he’s been living in some sort of messed up, alternate timeline since last November. He got into a car accident that transported him into this realm, or Ruby’s stupid princess magic wand was an actual, working thing. Fuck, they can never accept toys from the weird old lady that lives next door ever again.
He and Jackie arrived to Shane’s cottage yesterday, and altough his best friend insisted that they’re happy to have them here, he’s been constantly on edge.
Him and Rozanov never came close to anything like the fight they had in Montreal - drunk on wine and their protective feelings towards Shane - but the atmosphere between them was still tense. They danced around in a haze of hesitance and repressed thoughts, chirping at each other but trying to play nice at the same time. They were both making an effort to accept each other, but it was a slow progress.
In the moment, he was watching the sunset with his beautiful wife, for some reason he couldn’t quite grasp, feeling guilty.
“Do you... do you think I’m being too harsh on Rozanov?” he asked hesitantly.
“Do you think you are?” Jackie threw the question back at him with a searching gaze.
“Maybe” he sighed “Like, he makes Shane happy. I know that. But that fact goes against everything I’ve ever known about him before. And that’s... I guess that’s hard to process.”
“But you haven’t known him before. You knew about him. Formed opinions about him. The picture the media paints of Ilya, the same one you still have in your head, is clearly wrong. And besides, Shane is a big boy, he can make his own decisions.”
God, why did his wife have to be so smart?
“Yeah, I guess you’re right” he gives Jackie a barely there smile “I wish I could’ve been there for him, before. I wish he told me.”
“I know” her voice was soothing, trying to will away the hurt Hayden still felt about this “But you’re here now. You stayed, and you support him every day.”
“Yeah, cause I love him” these words come to him more easily “And I want him to be happy, and safe. He deserves that.”
“Maybe his best friend and boyfriend getting along could make him happy?”
“Hey, it’s not just me, this is also on Rozanov. The guy can’t stand me” he’s painfully aware that the defensive tone doesn’t escape Jackie.
“I think he just doesn’t want to let you in until he knows it’s safe to do so. He got his guard up. But he’s been trying all day, I can see. So you could try too?”
“You’re right” Hayden knows he has to accept defeat on this one “I’ll go see if they need help with dinner.”
He stands up, giving a quick kiss to his wife, and heads towards the cottage. As he’s about to round the corner inside, the dejected voice of a certain Russian makes him stop in his tracks.
“I’m sorry, moya lyubov. I know this means a lot to you.”
And look, he knows he really shouldn’t eavesdrop, but he’s way too curious to make sensible decisions.
“Maybe if you stopped antagonising him, he’d also be nicer” Shane says with an exasperated sigh.
Shit, are they talking about him?
“I know, but whatever I try, he think I’m making fun of him. That I’m evil, I don’t love you” he expected Rozanov to sound angry, yet the words come out tired “Stupid fucking Pike. He doesn’t get it.”
“He’s my best friend, Ilya. And this is a lot for him to process. That doesn’t mean he hates you.”
“I know I’m... hard to like. And that you’re too good for me. But I love you, Shane. So much. And it hurts me that your closest friend doesn’t see that.”
Well now Hayden felt like the worst person alive. Has he really been this horrible?
“Hey no, no” Shane rushes to say “You’re perfect for me, the only person I’ll ever want. Don’t you ever doubt that. I love you too.”
“I’m scared. That you’ll realise Pike is right. That you could find someone better. And I’ll have to live without you.”
Fuck. He’s fairly certain Rozanov is crying.
“That will never happen, you hear me? You’re the love of my life. I’m pretty sure I’d die without you. I don’t care what anyone else thinks, you’re it for me. And if people can’t accept that, fuck them.”
Hayden slowly retreats towards the door.
He swears to himself that he’ll try harder. For Shane. And for Ilya.
2.
Yuna Hollander was sat on the couch in Ilya’s living room, eyes glued to her son on the TV screen. The match had ended a while ago, a hard fought win for Montreal againts the Guardians.
They were watching the highlights now. Or, well, Yuna was, while her husband and Ilya were hunched over their newest puzzle. She took a picture, sending it to Shane. He was probably driving here right now, choosing to come to Ottawa as soon as he could, with both of the boys having a few days off.
They should leave, give them some privacy. They’ll have them over for lunch tomorrow anyways.
Just as she is about to tell David it’s probably time to head out, Ilya stands and moves to the kitchen, taking out ingredients from the fridge.
“Ilya, dear, what are you doing? There are leftovers from dinner.”
“Shane will not eat those. And he does not eat after games. Says he forgets. I make him some rice, vegetables. Cod too, but he won’t want to eat that. I’ll still try.”
Yuna shares a meaningful look with her husband.
“Do you need any help?” she hears David ask.
“No is fine, thank you” the answer comes quickly “but when you leave fix pillows, please? Shane will stress if they’re not at the right place.”
“Sure, son” her husband answers, already rearranging the couch.
“Well, we should probably leave you to it anyways” Yuna says walking over to Ilya, pulling him down so she can plant a kiss on his forehead “Thank you for having us.”
“Anytime” the Russian says, bright smile on his face “Let me walk you out.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary” she starts to protest, but Ilya is already leading the way to the front door, dimming the lights as he walks by the switches.
While they pull on their coats, Ilya frees the second hook from the left, and makes sure there’s space for a pair of shoes right next to the wall.
It hits her hard. How much this man knows her son. Cares for him, doesn’t treat his needs like a burden.
God, she can’t tear up here. That’s so not like her.
They exchange hugs, and before he has a chance to pull away, she whisper a simple “thank you” in Ilya’s ear. Judging by the way he pulls her closer, she doesn’t have to specify what she means.
3.
Harris couldn’t believe he was sitting at a table with his NHL superstar boyfriend, having a double date in the dining room of Shane fucking Hollander.
If he’s being honest, when Troy first told him Ilya asked them to do this, he thought his boyfriend was pulling a prank on him.
The playoffs just ended for the Centaurs, and he knew things... weren’t exactly great at Montreal. But if Shane and Ilya felt like what they need is a dinner with a couple that understands, Harris would happily play his part.
The night had been pleasent so far, if a bit tense. But he couldn’t really fault Hollander for needing time to open up. He didn’t know them, and he’s been burned by people who were supposed to have his back. Harris couldn’t even imagine losing everyone around him like that. His heart ached for him with the kind of sympathy that comes with being a queer person. If he had to guess, his fellow Canadian didn’t get to experience much of that sympathy in the past.
“So, you guys have been together since January, right?” Shane asked, putting down his glass of Drover cider. Harris couldn’t help but stare at the engagement ring on his finger “You were Ilya’s favourite gossip topic for months.”
“Well, Rozanov needs to mind his buisness” Troy said playfully.
“I’m just glad you finally got your shit together Barrett” came the reply.
Harris shared an amused smile with Shane, before answering “Yeah, something like that. Our communication wasn’t the best at parts, but we figured it out.”
He feels Troy squeezing his hand, a silent apology.
“I’m sorry we stole your thunder” Hollander huffs, seemingly going for a joke. It falls a bit flat.
There’s only a second of silence. It feels like years to Harris as he watches Ilya turn to his fiancé abruptly, eyes full of sadness and worry. Shane refuses to look at him, gaze fixed on his plate.
He should really say something.
“We’re really sorry this happened to you” suprisingly it’s Troy who comes to the rescue “I know you guys probably heard this a million times already, and that it doesn’t make it any better, but we’re here for you through this. For anything you need.”
“Thank you” Ilya says, voice laced with gratitude.
“We wanted to come out” Shane is looking at them now “After we got married. We were so tried of hiding.”
His voice cracks on the last word, and Harris can feel his own patched up heart crack in ways it hadn’t before.
“What’s done is done” he continues, giving his fiancé a shaky smile “At least now I can love Ilya without any fear. Nothing else matters to me, as long as I have him.”
Ilya kisses him then, and him and Troy pointedly go back to eating, attempting to give them some sense of privacy. He glances at his boyfriend, who’s already looking at him. Something silent passes between them, an agreement. Rozanov is in good hands.
4.
If you told Cliff 5 years ago that he’d once attend the wedding of Ilya Rozanov, he would’ve thought you were having a stroke. But, then again, the fact of marriage wasn’t the most suprising part of this whole thing. Fuck, maybe he’s having a stroke.
He still remembers hearing about it. Opening twitter, seeing it all over his timeline.
After the initial shock wore off, he sent Roz a text, telling him he has his support, that this doesn’t change their friendship.
He spends the next few days thinking through every converstation, every fact he knew about his friend. The transfer to Ottawa, the unwillingness to pick up women during his last year with Boston...
The time he injured Hollander. The rage on his captain’s face when he looked at him, and the horror when he looked at the Montreal player.
Fuck. When he heard Roz have sex in Anaheim. Was it...? Holy shit. He can never look Hollander in the eyes ever again.
A week later, his former teammate texted back a simple thank you.
A month later the wedding invite arrived.
The ceremony was simple but beautiful. He didn’t have the opportunity to talk to Roz before, but he could see he was glowing. Happiness looked good on him.
He should probably head out soon, though. It was getting late into the night, and he didn’t know many people here. He grimly noted the abscenes of the Montreal players earlier. Fucking snakes.
He stubbed out his cigarette - Roz got him addicted to it, the little shit - ready to look for his coat and say his round of goodbyes, when someone leaned next to him on the wall.
“Hey. Thank you for coming.”
Cliff definietly didn’t anticipate a one-on-one converstation with Shane Hollander. He probably should’ve. He’s at the guy’s wedding.
“Yeah, uhm. Thanks for the invite” he said awkwardly, turning towards the Canadian.
“Ilya doesn’t have a lot of people in his corner. I’m glad he still has you” Hollander gave him a small smile.
“Of course. I mean, I didn’t. Well, I had no idea, not until everyone. But I have no problem with it. Never had. I was definietly, you know. Suprised. But not in a homophobic way! I’m not. Homophobic.” he was babbling. He needed to shut the fuck up “I’m cool with you guys. Love is love.”
He raised his fist like an idiot. This will keep him up at night for the rest of his life.
He could see it took everything in Hollander to not laugh in his face.
“That’s... Very nice of you, Marleau.”
He gives himself about 5 seconds to get his shit together. Thinks about today. The way Rozanov laughed louder than he ever heard, the way his eyes tracked his new husband everywhere when they were separetad. The way he wouldn’t let him go when they were finally next to each other again.
“Fuck, look, what I’m trying to say is that I’ve never seen Roz this happy. We don’t really know each other, but you’re clearly good for him. So thank you, for taking care of him.”
Holy shit, did he just make Shane Hollander cry? He’s for sure getting kicked out. He’s getting murdered by Ilya Rozanov and his body will get burried in this garden by a bunch of Centaurs.
“Oh, I’m sorry if i said something wrong, I really didn’t mean to...” he starts to backtrack, but the Canadian cuts him off.
“No, don’t worry, you didn’t say anything wrong” Cliff relaxes a bit at those words “This just means a lot, coming from you. You’ve known him for so long. You were there for him when I couldn’t be. You looked after my husband for years, when he was feeling so sad and lonely. I didn’t need your approval, but having it makes me happy.”
“You give me too much credit, Hollander” he says sheepishly.
“Just Shane.”
“I’m glad he has you, Shane” he tells Hollander, and he truly means it.
The Canadian pulls him into a hug, and from the corner of his eye he can see Roz watching them. Lovesick bastard.
5.
Wyatt Hayes was walking into the arena for the first practice of the season when he found Luca Haas standing in a corridor like a lost child.
“Kid, you good?” he asked with concern in his voice.
“I uhm... be quiet, please” the other man whispered back with wide eyes “Rozanov and Hollander are...having a moment, and I didn’t want to disturb them.”
“We have to get to the locker room somehow” this was about to be really amusing.
“Yeah, I know, but... I guess I just” the kid was growing a darker shade of red with every second.
“What, are they making out? You wanna listen in?” maybe Wyatt was being a little mean.
“No, of course not. I would never!”
“Relax, Haasy, I know” he laughed quietly “I guess I’ll have to wait with you.”
He slid down the wall, and after a few seconds, Haas followed him.
“What have they been talking about?”
“Oh, I wasn’t liste-”
“Bullshit”
“Hollander is nervous. About being at a new team. And you know. The gay and married thing.”
He aknowledged the information with a nod, already thinking of ways to make their new teammate feel welcomed. Just imagining how the other man must feel made him sick to his stomach.
A small sob tore through the quiet.
“It’s gonna be okay, moya lyubov” he heard his Captain’s voice. They really shouldn’t be listening to this, but his body refused to move.
“I’m sorry” Hollander was clearly crying “I met them and they were nice, they love you, I shouldn’t... I shouldn’t feel like this. I’m being irrational. But what if this is too much for them? I can’t go through that again.”
Wyatt will personally beat up every single Montreal player. He’s sure he could recruite Bood and Dykstra to help.
He exchanged a look with Haas. The kid looked so heartbroken you’d think this was happening to him.
“It won’t be” Rozanov’s voice was firm, trying to get through to his husband “They’ll support you and love you. Anything else is not possible. You’re amazing, they’ll think so too.”
“Promise?”
“Da. And if it gets too much, we can always quit. Move to cottage. Get bunch of kids. Not see any other person ever again.”
That got a small laugh out of Hollander.
“I can’t wait to have a family with you” the admission was followed by what sounded like a kiss.
Well, that was definietly not meant for their ears.
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too, Ilya” a kiss again “Let’s go, this practice won’t start itself.”
Wyatt had to text his wife. And then he had to start Operation Make-Hollander-Feel-Welcomed.
+1
A lot of things made Shane Hollander happy.
Nothing made him happier than cuddling with his husband after being fucked into the mattress in a way that made his brain empty and left his body aching.
Today wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but he was feeling sentimental, and so, so loved. It made his heart hurt, thinking about a version of themselves that would’ve denied them this happiness.
Those little boys in Saskatchewan. Those men in a Florida hotel room, in a hospital. They were so fucking scared, but decided to be brave anyways. Shane would forever be thankful for that.
“Ilya” he lifted his head from his husband’s chest “I love you”
“I love you too” he kissed Shane softly “What is wrong?”
Of course he’d see right through him.
“I’m just so happy that I get to have this. Have you” there were tears in his eyes now “I think I would die without you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, moya lyubov.”
“I know. But fuck, we had to fight so much. And it feels like a miracle that I got to keep you at the end. That this could be my life.”
“This is your life. Our life. And no one will take it away from us, I promise you” Ilya pulled him back into his chest, softly playing with his hair.
“Maybe in another life, it’s simpler for us.”
“Maybe. I hope it is.”
“Can you imagine it? What it would be like?”
“Da. You’d have most boring job in the world.”
“Fuck off.”
“And I’d still love you, when you tell me about office.”
“I wouldn’t be an office worker” he protests weakly.
“You would be. And you’d hate Susan from second floor. She steal your pens, but you can’t prove it.”
Shane laughs, trying to push his husband away unsuccessfly.
“We probably would’ve had kids by now” he says with a fond smile on his face.
“Yeah” Ilya agrees “But not as much as Pike”
“Definietly not.”
Neither of them say anything for a while, just enjoying each others company.
“I hope those versions of us are also happy. Living ordinary lives” he whispers.
“No life could be ordinary with you in it.”