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Shane knows it might be overkill, okay? He knows.
But he also just… can’t help it?
Rose jokes that it’s his ecosystem. His specimens, she says, that he watches over and takes care of. It feels a little silly, and he knows she means it with love, but he can’t help but worry he’s coming off as overbearing. It’s just knowing, knowing where the people he cares about are, how they’re doing, being able to see.
So, yes, Shane has his own little ecosystem on Apple Maps. It’s part of his routine, checking in on everyone and making sure they’re where they should be, checking in if they’re not. He’s got his mom and dad, Hayden, Rose, several of the Centaurs, and Ilya. It’s been a gradual thing, getting close to someone, their location getting shared with him, and him checking in with them.
But, the way it started, well. That’s a whole other story. It starts, with Ilya.
1.
2012
Shane needs to let go of Rozanov. He knows that. And he’s been trying. He’s been really, really good, actually. He doesn’t rise to the bait of any of the texts Rozanov sends him, ignores him every way to Sunday, and keeps himself away from it all so that he doesn’t have to be so humiliated again.
Rozanov is good, he thinks, at making him feel a little insane. He’s good at embarrassing Shane, and making Shane feel things he knows he shouldn’t be feeling.
And he’s done. Seriously, okay? He’s done dealing with all the bullshit, the embarrassment, the heat, all of it. He’s so fucking done. He needs to get over this.
That is why, when it happens, he chooses to ignore it.
It comes after a barrage of texts, Shane, still upset about Vegas and not willing to admit how much it hurt his pride, much less his stupid fucking heart, doesn’t respond. How can he? He doesn’t know how to talk to Rozanov when every time he does it makes him feel that way. And he needs to get away from it.
The texts come in at around midnight, and so does the location request. This fucking asshole. Like Shane would give him his fucking location. They just played Boston, and he knows Rozanov is lurking somewhere in Montreal, trying to make Shane give in and talk to him.
However, upon further inspection, while he’s requesting Shane’s location, Rozanov is also offering his to Shane.
Lily: Hello, Hollander
Lily: I am in your boring city. Shane Hollander Land, of course it is boring like you. Everyone is being assholes to me, no wonder. You are golden boy.
Lily: I am so lonely, maybe you should come get me? ;)
Lily: *Started Sharing Location*
And Shane, for what it’s worth, just… stares. He stares at the screen, at Rozanov’s location on the map, somewhere in downtown Montreal. He’s texting Shane from the fucking club, trying to get a rise out of him after Boston won the game. He’s texting Shane while he absolutely has girls dancing up against him. What a fucking asshole.
But for all it’s worth, Shane can’t stop looking, watching the little blue dot on the map that is Rozanov, as he moves away from the club and out to another. He can’t stop watching as Rozanov goes back to his hotel. It makes him wonder. Does he have a girl with him? Is he wondering if Shane is watching him? It’s all so fucking stupid, and Shane is so frustrated with it. With himself.
Shane pointedly does not share his location back, but he does watch. Watches as the Rozanov dot goes to the airport, and back to Boston. And it doesn’t go away. Rozanov doesn’t stop sharing his location with him, it stays, for Shane to look at, even when Rozanov is back in Russia. A small tether.
Shane’s not too sure how to feel about it.
2015
The thing with Rozanov’s location, is that Shane doesn’t know how to stop looking at it.
It’s been there for him to see, and the novelty should wear off. Except, it doesn’t. He’s growing the ecosystem, though, and now his mom and dad are on there, too. And Hayden.
But Rozanov, that’s the one that he’s interested in. It gives him a chance to take a look at everything he’s up to, and while he absolutely shouldn’t be interested in it, he is. He’s interested in the push and pull, in Rozanov moving from place to place. He doesn’t want to say obsessed, but he is… a little… obsessed.
Rozanov’s life is interesting, he’ll give him that much. He goes places, does things. Shane gets to see through this lens the life of someone in Boston, someone like Rozanov.
Sometimes he struggles with it. Sometimes it kills him. Watching Rozanov go through clubs and bars and his location pinging in apartment buildings and hotel rooms that are very clearly not his own. And it’s so stupid, too. He shouldn’t be upset.
His favourite, though, is texting Rozanov after a game, and watching that little dot on the map slowly approach Shane’s. It sets something off in his bones.
It’ll ping until it stops when he loses service in the elevator, and the next time it reappears, Shane doesn’t even have a chance to look at it again, because Rozanov is there in his face, in Shane’s space. He smells distinctly of cologne and something woodier underneath it all, his breath is coming in hot puffs against Shane’s neck, and for a short and blissful time he thinks of Rozanov as his, before stopping again with the deduction that he must be losing his mind to ever think that.
Shane does feel a little sick with want, Rozanov on top of him, in his apartment, existing in his space off the ice. It’s so fucked up. It needs to end. Some sick part of him hopes it never does, the hope sputters in his chest before it’s eclipsed by raw need and the press of Rozanov’s body against his own.
Rozanov doesn’t stay, he never does, and that’s a good thing. He knows it’s a good thing. He showers and lays down again, staring listlessly at the ceiling. He feels a little stupid, and a little euphoric, and isn’t that the same string of emotions that led him to make this mistake constantly in the first place? That same euphoria and stupidity has him watching Rozanov begin to ping further and further away from his place as he attempts to pretend he doesn’t wish he’d stayed. They don’t do that, and for good fucking reason. Watches as his location reaches the airport, and he’s back in Boston, or New York, or wherever else he goes. Watches him end up in hotel rooms and apartment buildings and wonders who he’s with, or if he’s even thinking of Shane in the first place. He knows he’s not.
One night, while Rozanov is playing in Seattle, he looks at his location and lets the curiosity get the better of him, as Rozanov leaves another random downtown apartment building.
Jane: How are the women of Seattle on a night like this?
Cool. He’s totally cool. He can talk to Rozanov about women without thinking about how much he wishes he was with Shane instead. He likes women too, he can be so, so, super chill about this.
Lily: Jealous? ;)
Fuck.
2017
Saying goodbye to Ilya at the cottage is probably one of the worst things he has ever done.
Seriously, the whole falling in love thing, fucking your rival, the broken collarbone, every single goddamned thing he’s been through. None of it even comes close to how much his chest aches at saying goodbye.
It’s different now. He can understand exactly what that ache in his chest was whenever Ilya left before. It’s this all encompassing feeling that feels too big for his body. Agony. The total and complete agony of loving him. He wouldn’t trade it for the fucking world. How was he missing this?
Their last day together is a blur of bodies pressed together. Ilya makes love to him and doesn’t let him get very far in any capacity throughout the day, trying to pretend that their time isn’t waning. He kisses all over Ilya’s face, the moles on his back, runs his hands up and down his spine. He tries to bottle this feeling so that maybe their time apart won’t hurt as much. They’ll see each other soon. It’s different now, he knows that. The blissed out corners of his mind remind him he can have this. He’s allowed. Ilya is fucking his.
But there’s the heartbreaking thing, the fact that he can’t stay in this bubble forever. That it’ll be years before this can be their forever bubble. God, he can hardly stomach it. A whole year before he can have Ilya at the cottage with him again. He’s a goddamn mess.
The day ends with him driving Ilya to the airport. They’re quiet on the drive back into Ottawa, neither able to fully articulate this feeling, not ready to say goodbye. Shane aches with it, but somehow feels lighter, too. He might be gone, but he’s going to come back. There won’t be a time where Ilya will leave and not return to him again. He’s always going to come back. He loves Shane.
And like an idiot, when they get to departures, Shane decides to be brave and drop Ilya at the door. But when Ilya squeezes his hand and smiles at him and goes to say goodbye, Shane begins to cry like an idiot. His eyes well up and he tries not to let the tears fall. He fails.
“Sweetheart.” Ilya says, wiping tears away, checking to see if anyone’s looking at them, and turning back to kiss Shane’s head. “I will see you soon, okay? This is not forever.”
Shane nods. “I know.”
“I love you. I love you so much.” He says quietly, like an oath, like a prayer.
“I love you too. So much.” he says in return. And in the moment, he doesn’t fucking care if anyone sees. He leans over and presses a kiss to Ilya’s mouth, trying to show him without words how he feels. Tries to put as much love into it as he possibly can.
And then Ilya is gone, suitcase trailing behind him into the terminal while Shane sits in the car and stares until he’s out of his sight.
Summer ends like that, with Ilya back in Boston. He watches from afar as he goes home, as he goes to training and for lunch with his teammates and gets back into the swing of things. It’s not a scary thing anymore. He’s sure Ilya knows he’s watching.
It becomes commonplace, really, for him to see where Ilya’s going and what he’s doing. They have a shared calendar for where the other is for the season, when they’re on the road, when they’re playing together. When there’s big events or things to do, planning for the Irina Foundation, All-Stars, everything. It’s all there between them.
A night comes where Ilya is out at the club with his teammates after a win. He’s more than deserving of it, of course. Shane feels a little stupid watching this. Ilya’s a grown man. He can handle himself. And it’s not about anything other than the fact that he knows he has to be on an early flight to Buffalo.
Jane: Don’t stay out too late.
Lily: My guardian angel. Are you worried about me, my love?
Jane: I just know you have an early flight, that’s all.
Lily: Knowing you’re watching makes me crazy.
Shane’s gut twists uncomfortably.
Jane: I’m sorry.
Lily: No, sweetheart. Good crazy. FaceTime?
Jane: Seriously?!
Lily: You care so much, sweetheart. Can’t help it if it warms my heart and also makes my dick hard. Call when you can ❤️
They continue in the same realm like that. It ends the same way nearly every time, Ilya seems to thrive off the idea that Shane is always wondering if he’s okay. It’s almost as though he feeds on it.
If a team dinner runs too long, Shane is texting him about it, making sure he’s okay. He checks on him before every roadtrip. Ilya tells him where he’s going and tells Shane to check in whenever he wants. And if he does text him and ask how he’s doing, Ilya tells him within the minute.
Lily: My teammates are very jealous. My sweet Jane cares so much about me and where I am.
Jane: Oh, I’m sure. I’m sure they’re not calling me your overbearing ball and chain.
Lily: No. They know their captain will kill them. I would destroy anyone who tried to say that about you. My sweetheart.
Jane: Are you going anywhere fun tonight?
Lily: I was, but I have an early flight tomorrow. We’re beating Montreal, don’t you know?
Jane: In your dreams.
Lily: Yes. I am dreaming of it. Counting down the minutes.
Those moments are the best, Shane decides. When they fly into Montreal early before a game, and Shane is still in bed when Ilya gets in. He’ll wake and check his phone, seeing Ilya in the same vicinity as him, and before he can think anymore about it, Ilya is in his bed, crawling all over Shane and kissing everywhere he can reach.
Ilya is sleepy from the early flight, falling asleep without preamble against Shane’s body. They have a few hours before either of them has to part, and he looks at his phone again, heart warmed by their locations being one in the same. Ilya snuffles beside him.
2021
Shane is going to be sick.
He’s hyper vigilant now. When a tragedy happens, more than one happens at once, doesn’t it? He checks Rose’s location. She’s in LA, at her apartment. Checks his parents, in Ottawa like always. Hayden’s pings next to him, J.J’s as well.
Hesitating, he clicks onto Ilya’s contact.
It hasn’t updated. He heard Centaurs plane had to make an emergency landing and Ilya’s contact isn’t fucking pinging anywhere but at the airport they departed from.
Shane is an idiot. He’s an idiot who has spent the better part of a fucking decade watching Ilya’s location go from place to place, being jealous of the people he’s with while also somehow forcing Ilya into the dark. How could he fucking do that to him?
And he’s gone. He’s gone. Ilya is gone and the only thing Shane has to show for it is his location, no longer live on the map, maybe never live again, and Shane’s wasted so much fucking time being afraid. So much time being afraid of the wrong thing. He’s got some fucking messages where Ilya tells him he’s loved him the entire time, and nothing else but the location never updating.
Shane is sick. His heart is dead in his chest. He doubts it’ll ever start again.
What is he going to do? Eulogize Ilya as his friend and not explain to everyone that Ilya is as much a part of his soul as anything else? He just has to move on with life and pretend Ilya isn’t his entire world?
People are going to talk. They’re going to watch Shane crash and burn and his entire career doesn't matter anymore because Ilya is gone. What is the point of any of this if Ilya’s not on the other side of it? If he's not there with open arms to hold Shane and kiss him.
Fuck. He thinks of it again. If it is between me and hockey, you wouldn’t even choose me, would you?
He would. A million times over. Why did he even hesitate? Of course it’s Ilya. Of course he’d choose Ilya. He can figure out the rest, but he needs Ilya. Can’t do this without him. Head between his knees, he doesn’t know how to do this anymore. Hockey has taken everything from him, and now Ilya too?
It doesn’t feel real, even as Ilya calls him and they talk it over. Doesn’t feel real as he watches Ilya’s location update in Tampa. It all feels so far away and impossible.
It doesn’t feel real until days later, when he’s watching Ilya come up the driveway and wait for him to come inside. It doesn’t feel real until Ilya’s in his arms again, until they’re skin to skin and there’s no more barriers.
“Don’t leave me.” Shane whispers into his hair. Ilya shakes his head where it’s pressed to Shane’s chest.
“Never. I won’t. I promise.”
+1
2021
Shane really, really wishes that he was home with Ilya. Seriously. Ilya stayed home with a splitting headache and a need to cuddle up with Anya.
As Alternate Captain, Bood takes up the mantle of captain to bring in the rookies and Shane as the newest members of the Centaurs. They’re in downtown Ottawa and for once Shane is doing shots with the team and being inducted into the Centaurs at large.
He feels warm all over from shots of tequila and is nursing a ginger ale in the corner, watching everyone laugh and mingle together when his phone buzzes.
Ilya: Causing trouble, my love?
Shane: Why? You jealous?
Ilya: Never. Just so happy my sweet Shane is out on the town. I do miss you though, our bed is so empty and lonely.
Shane: You big baby. You’re the one who told me to go out with the team.
Ilya: Yes, but now I am your selfish husband who wants you home and under him.
Shane: Jesus.
Ilya: Sweetheart. Come home.
Shane: I need the team to like me, Ilya. It’s bad enough that you’re my captain now.
Ilya: No captain talk unless you're touching my dick.
Shane: I’ll be home soon.
Ilya: Good. Better hurry. I’m starting without you.
Ilya watches Shane’s location update through downtown Ottawa and out, until he’s just down the street, and in the driveway. Watches it enter the house, hearing Shane scramble with his keys and shoes to rush up the stairs. He’s already pulling his shirt over his head and crawling on top of Ilya. And Ilya loves him.
He’s very glad he sent Shane his location as a joke. Probably the best joke he’s ever made, if it gets him this.