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“Rozanov, control your boys!” Hayden yells, shoving him back. “They’re being reckless- someone is going to get hurt!”
“Get your fucking hands off me, Pike. Hollander, call off your guard dog,” Ilya snaps. “It was a good hit!”
Shane turns to give Ilya a look, rolling his eyes at the small smirk on the other man’s face. “Watch it, Rozanov. Guys, back off- everybody back to the bench.”
Marlow and Rozanov nudge each other and laugh as they begin to skate off. Shane watches them for a second. He hears one of the rookies, Johnson, begin to mouth off behind him. Before he can tell the kid to shut up, he feels his blood boil at the next sentence out of his mouth.
“Maybe they wouldn’t have to take cheap shots if Rozanov wasn’t such a f-.”
Ilya’s head snaps over at the word. Shane’s gloves come off in lightning speed, and his fist is colliding with the rookie’s jaw within seconds.
“Keep your fucking mouth shut!” Shane yells. He’s jerked back by Ilya before he can throw another punch. “You wanna talk cheap shots when you’re saying shit like this? You’re benched, Johnson, get the fuck off the ice! That shit will not be tolerated on my team!”
“Whoa whoa whoa, hey! Hollander, calm down,” Ilya murmurs into his ear. “You’re being obvious.”
Shane yanks his arms from Ilya’s grip. “Sorry about the cheap shot, Rozanov. He’ll be dealt with.” He’s still furious, his hands shaking by his sides.
“Is okay, Hollander, don’t punch your own team for me. You’re not a fighter.”
“I am when I have to be.”
-
“What the hell is your problem, Johnson?” Shane snaps as soon as they’re in the locker room. “You can talk all the shit you want about the other team, but we don’t say things like that. Ever.”
“Why the fuck are you sticking up for him, Hollander? You hate him just as much as the rest of us!”
“I can hate him and still not use a fucking slur!” Shane shoves his pads into his locker. “Nobody on this team uses language like that, understand me?”
Johnson crosses his arms. “Seems like I struck a nerve, cap.”
“And what the fuck does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” Johnson laughs. “There a reason that word triggered you so hard, Hollander? You got a boner for Rozanov?”
“You son of a bitch-” Shane lunges for Johnson, but Hayden yanks him back. “You keep your mouth shut about things you don’t understand!”
The room goes silent as Shane’s words sink in. He tenses in Hayden’s grip.
“Holy shit, Hollander.”
“Are you gay?”
“Are you with Rozanov, is that why you’re acting like this?”
Hayden gasps softly from behind Shane. “Lily- your Boston girl,” he whispers. “Fuck, Shane.”
But Shane doesn’t respond to any of them. He shuts down at that point, sitting on the bench in front of his locker, his mind racing at what he just accidentally revealed. The guys are all talking over each other, questions flying from all corners of the room. Hayden goes into protective mode. He grabs Shane’s phone and opens the text messages.
Rozanov, this is hayden. Shane needs you.
I am lily
cut the shit, rozanov, i know it’s you.
we’re in the locker room and I think shane is having a panic attack or something, he went off on johnson for what happened on the ice and it kind of spiraled into a whole mess
he asked if shane had a boner for you and i’m worried he’s either gonna cry or snap johnson’s neck
is he doing the thing where he doesn’t talk?
yes, he won’t look at anybody
it’s kind of chaotic in here
he’s like shaking, idk what to do
i think he needs you
The locker room door slams open then. Everybody goes silent as Ilya Rozanov makes his way through his rival locker room. He walks directly up to Shane and kneels down in front of him, whispering to him in a way that’s only meant for the two of them. Shane’s shoulders finally relax as Ilya presses a soft kiss to his lips. Hayden’s never seen anything like it.
“I trust everybody here knows how to keep mouth shut, yes?” Ilya warns, arm around Shane’s waist as they head to the door. “If anybody has problem with their gay captain, you can take it up with me.”
There’s a grumble through the room, but nobody objects. Ilya drives them back to his apartment, using the back entrance to get in. Shane still hasn’t spoken. Ilya helps Shane take a shower and gets him dressed in an oversized t-shirt. It’s not until they’re in bed that Shane speaks.
“I didn’t mean to out us,” he whispers. “Fuck. I was so irresponsible. Johnson doesn’t know how to keep a secret. He’s going to tell someone.”
“If he does, we will deal with it then,” Ilya shrugs. “Right now, you need to relax.”
“How do we deal with that, Ilya?”
“We let Marlow beat him up.”
Shane rolls his eyes. “I’m being serious, Ilya.”
“So am I.”
“We… we need to tell my parents,” Shane sighs quietly. “I really didn’t want to, not like this, but my mom can help us with a plan for if this goes wrong.”
“I will be in Montreal next week, I can come see you then,” Ilya suggests. “We have a few days off after that. Maybe dinner with your parents?”
“They’re gonna be so shocked,” Shane whispers. “The team is gonna be so pissed at me. I can’t even look them in the eye anymore.”
“If any of them have an issue with you, they can deal with me. I will keep you safe.”
The next time Shane is in the locker room, the team doesn’t say anything. It almost feels normal, but Shane can feel the tension hiding between their words. He gives his usual speech, hyping the team up, trying to pretend like everything is fine. They’re playing Boston again. He’s nervous about seeing Ilya on the ice again.
The first period is normal. His team is playing hard, and they manage a goal just before the period ends. Second period is where everything goes wrong. Johnson is coming after him, and Shane barely manages to avoid him. He can see Ilya getting more and more frustrated as the time goes. Near the end of the second period, Johnson takes a cheap shot. Shane is bent over after a whistle, hands resting on his knees to catch his breath, eyes closed. Johnson hits him from behind and slams him into the boards. Shane blacks out momentarily. His ears begin ringing as he comes to just seconds later. He can hear yelling- a lot of it. Hayden yelling at Johnson, refs yelling at everybody to break it up. Shane is still down on the ice, his entire body aching.
“Come on, Hollander, move!”
It’s Ilya’s voice. He sounds worried, and it gets Shane to roll onto his back. “M’okay,” he mumbles. “M’fine.”
“Fuck, Hollander.” Ilya pushes through the medics and refs to kneel down next to Shane. “You need to open your eyes. Please open.”
Shane forces his eyes open. He’s seeing double, and the medics are shining a light in his eyes. “Tell Ilya I’m fine,” he mumbles. “My head hurts.”
He can hear the medics talking around him- pupils equal and reactive, he's answering their equations, no hospital visit.
“He is okay? Someone tell me!” Ilya shouts. “Where is he going?”
“Back off, Rozanov, get to your side,” a ref tells him.
Shane gets his eyes to focus on Ilya as the medics help him stand up. He forces a small smile. “M’okay, Roz. Go play.”
Ilya eyes him worriedly. “Take care, Hollander, go wash the blood off your face.”
Shane is taken to the medics office for observation. He’s given the all clear with a warning to pay attention to concussion signs. He’s encouraged to stay with someone tonight. He slowly makes his way back to the locker room just as the rest of the team gets there. The bridge of his nose has a dark bruise forming, and his lip is busted. Everybody quiets down when they see Shane. He’s only slightly pleased to see Johnson also has a busted lip.
“What happened out there can’t happen again,” Shane says, glaring at Johnson. “You’re suspended from the next two games. It’s one thing to be blatantly homophobic, it’s another to attack your fucking captain.”
“It was an accident,” Johnson shrugs. “Coach makes the suspensions, not you.”
“Hilarious if you think I haven’t already talked to him. You’re lucky you’re not cut from the team- if I had my way, you would be.”
“Rozanov didn’t take it easy on him,” Hayden smirks. “You’ve got a protective one, cap.”
“I know-”
The locker room door slams open. “You,” Ilya growls, walking up to Johnson. “I told you- if you have problem, you take it up with me.”
“It was a fucking accident and nobody can prove otherwise.”
“Everybody fucking knows!” Ilya clenches his fists by his side. “You need to hope I do not see you outside of arena. I will fucking end you, Johnson.”
“Ilya, please.” Shane pulls Ilya back by his elbow. “I’m tired. I want to go home. We can get pizza on the way.”
“You’re lucky my boyfriend needs me,” Ilya snaps. “I care for him more than I hate you.”
“Hollander has you whipped, Rozanov,” Johnson laughs. “Go be a good little housewife.”
Ilya gives Shane a look, and Shane just lets go of Ilya’s arm with a sigh. Ilya turns around to swing on Johnson, hitting him directly in the nose. Johnson swears as he falls back against the lockers.
“Anybody else have problem with me and Shane?” Ilya asks. Nobody speaks up. “Good. I will take care of your captain’s concussion. He will see you at next practice.”
“I can get Hayden to drive me home, so we’re not seen leaving together,” Shane says quietly. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”
“No, Shane, I will drive. I don’t care if people see.”
“Ilya. Are you sure?” Shane whispers. “I-”
Ilya cuts Shane off with a gentle kiss. “We will take my car, yes? Is in parking garage. I will take care of you.”
-
Shane sleeps like a rock that night. He’s sprawled out across Ilya’s chest, snoring into his neck when his phone goes off. They both ignore it, but it rings again. And again. And again.
“Hollander, I will break your phone,” Ilya mumbles. “Answer it.”
“M’not supposed to look at a phone screen- concussion,” Shane huffs. “I don’t know what time it is, but I know it’s too early to be on a phone call.”
“Here.” Ilya grabs the phone and answers the call, letting Shane keep his eyes shut. “Talk,” he murmurs.
“Shane?” his mom’s voice comes through the speaker. “Shane, are you okay? I’ve been calling all morning!”
“I know, I heard. Been sleeping mom,” Shane murmurs. “Got hit last night.”
“I’m aware, Shane, that’s why I’m worried about you. Hayden said he stayed with you last night?”
God bless Hayden Pike. “Y-yeah, cause I’m not supposed to be alone,” he says softly. “Mom, my head still hurts. Can I call you back in a little bit please? I need some time to wake up fully.”
Yuna agrees to call him back in a few hours and Ilya sets the phone to the side. “Go back to sleep. I will order breakfast when you wake up.”
Shane sleeps for three more hours. It’s the most he’s slept in months, and he actually feels refreshed when he wakes up. Ilya stays true to his word and orders breakfast while Shane takes a quick shower.
When someone knocks on the door twenty minutes later, Ilya doesn’t think twice about answering. “Oh- you are not food delivery.”
“And you’re not Hayden.” Standing in front of him is Yuna and David Hollander, both looking bewildered. “What are you doing here?”
“Um. I think Shane should be here for this. He is in shower, should be done soon.”
“I guess it’s true then,” Yuna sighs as she steps inside. “We need a game plan.”
“What is true?”
Shane chooses that moment to walk into the living room, wearing sweats and one of Ilya’s Boston t-shirts. He freezes when he sees his parents. “Oh fuck-”
“Shane,” Yuna starts, “people are saying things online. Videos are circulating. We have a lot to discuss.”
“About what?” Shane feels his stomach drop. Beside him, he can feel Ilya tense. “What’s going on?” He sits on the couch next to Ilya, Yuna and David sitting across from them.
“Someone started a rumor online that you two were together,” David murmurs. “Although it doesn’t seem like much of a rumor.”
“They took a video from the last game in Boston, where Rozanov pulled you off Johnson,” Yuna explains. “Along with a video from last night when you were hit. Rozanov looked scared as hell, and people began speculating when lip readers got ahold of the video and people realized you were saying to tell Ilya you were fine.”
“Oh god, this isn’t happening.” Shane bends over, putting his head between his knees. “This can’t be fucking real.”
“I hate to say it, but it gets worse.” Yuna takes a deep breath. “Coach reviewed the footage from last night again, and this morning, the board made the decision to cut Johnson from the team since it wasn’t the first issue he’s started.”
Shane sits back up immediately and looks at Ilya. “If he’s cut, he’s going to-”
“I know.” Ilya rubs Shane’s back gently. “Is okay. Just breathe, keep breathing. It will be okay.”
“Johnson made an official post earlier that you and Rozanov were a couple and you had come out after the punching incident.”
“Oh god. I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“I can draft up a statement to publish if you want me to, but something needs to be said,” Yuna says quietly. “This is huge, Shane. How long has this been going on?”
“Um. S-summer before rookie year.” Shane takes a deep breath. “It didn’t really start getting serious until this year.”
Yuna makes a surprised noise. “Oh. That long?”
“Mhmm.”
Shane’s breathing becomes ragged. David and Yuna exchange worried looks. Ilya carefully slips onto his knees in front of Shane.
“Shane, moy lyubimyy,” he says softly, gently rubbing Shane’s arms. “You are safe here. Your parents are here. I am here.” He runs his fingers through Shane’s hair. “Can you look at me? Please?”
Shane slowly tilts his head up. His eyes are red, but he’s not quite crying. “I’m scared.”
“I am, too.” Ilya holds Shane’s chin as he presses their lips together gently. “But we have each other. Is okay.”
“You can’t go home now,” Shane whispers. His shoulders aren’t as tense.
Ilya shrugs a little. “We will be okay.”
Yuna has a small smile on her face as she watches the scene unfold. “You’re good together.”
“I care about him very much,” Ilya nods. “I would do anything for him.”
“He also may have punched Johnson last night,” Shane sighs softly. “I don’t know if anything needs to be done about that.”
David laughs. “After what Johnson did to you, on camera for everybody to see, I don’t think he’s going to say anything about getting punched.”
“He deserve it,” Ilya shrugs with a smirk. “First he was homophobic on ice, then he hurt Shane. Deserves more than a punch.”
“Yes, well, no more punching or hurting anybody. We’ll get this handled,” Yuna promises.
“It will be nice to hold your hand in public,” Ilya smiles softly. “You really scared me when you went down, Hollander. Don’t do that again.”
Shane rolls his eyes fondly. “I’ll try my best,” he murmurs.
-
Official statement from Shane Hollander:
Although I would’ve preferred to make this announcement on our own terms, this decision was taken from us. I am in a relationship with Ilya Rozanov. The timeline of our relationship will stay between us, but we are serious and committed to each other. Our relationship has never influenced our games. If anything, it made us play harder against each other. We will not be answering any further questions about this. Thank you.
-
ShaneHollander We’ve been waiting for this day, we just didn’t expect it to come this soon. Either way, I’m very happy to formally introduce Ilya Rozanov as my boyfriend ❤️
ilyarozanov This is my boyfriend. Yes, I know you are jealous.
ShaneHollander: Ilya. 🤦🏻♂️
ilyarozanov: @ShaneHollander 😘
