Chapter Text
Shane Hollander meets Ian Gallagher the way he meets most people he ends up liking– accidentally and then intensely.
He’s at some charity event in Chicago. He doesn’t even know what it’s for, just that his PR team wanted him to be there. Ian also doesn’t know what it’s for, or why he’s even here in the first place. Someone invited him, said it would be a good opportunity and there’d be free food and good wine and he’s constitutionally incapable of turning that down.
Ilya was back at the hotel. He was supposed to come but woke up this morning with a particular weight in his bones that he couldn’t shake. Shane had offered to stay with him, but Ilya had waved him off and told him to go without him. That it’d be good for him. But now Shane was here, and he wanted to leave and go back to the hotel, to his husband.
He and Ian both end up in a conversation neither of them would like to be in, at a high table near the back, both looking equally out of place.
“Shane! This is my friend, Ian. I think you two would get along nicely” A girl he recognizes but can’t place the name to, says. “He’s gay, and lots of trouble. Your type, so if you ever want to ditch Rozanov..” She leans in and whispers before stalking off, leaving the two to talk.
Ian smiles warmly, nodding at Shane instead of reaching for a handshake. Shane silently appreciated that, he hated handshakes. “Nice to meet you, I’m Ian”
Shane smiles warmly, heart pounding out of his chest with the implication that Ian could think this could be something romantic. “And I’m… married”
Ian barks out a laugh at that, hand clutching a wine glass. “Me too”
A breath of relief escapes Shane’s lips without thinking. “Oh, thank God. I– she–” He stammers out nervously.
“Krystal tried to set us up?” Ian replies. Krystal! That was it! Shane thinks to himself. “She always does this, she fucking hates my husband so she tries to insert herself”
Shane lets out a startled laugh, shoulders finally loosening as he takes a sip of his drink. “Sounds about right, I think she was trying to be subtle. But clearly that isn’t her strong suit” He says, gesturing in the direction she took off.
Ian grins, eyes crinkling at the corners, amused. “Definitely not. So, husband, huh?”
“Yeah” Shane replies with no hesitation. There never is when he’s talking about Ilya. “He’s back at the hotel. His name is Ilya. He was supposed to come tonight, but he’s not feeling great”
Ian nods in a way that feels understanding. Not polite. Not surface-level. Understanding like he’s been there before. “My husband, Mickey, hates these things. Hate is a soft word, actually. He’d rather get dental surgery without anaesthesia. I was worried he was going to flake out on our own wedding”
Shane giggles at that, louder this time. “Yeah, that tracks. Ilya doesn’t hate them. He just would rather be at home. He gets… overwhelmed. He tries though, he really does”
There’s a softness in Shane’s voice that he doesn’t try to hide, and Ian notices. It’s a similar way he talks about his husband. He tips his glass slightly towards Shane, a quiet acknowledgement.
“That’s a good one to have” Ian notes.
“He is,” Shane answers. It comes out automatic, reverent, like muscle memory.
They fall into an easy silence for a second, the kind that isn’t awkward. Around them, the event hums with low jazz music and polite laughter and the clink of expensive cutlery, but their little corner feels strangely insulated from it.
“So, Ilya?” Ian asks. “How long have you been together?”
Shane smiles, thinking about the first time they met outside of the rink in Saskatchewan. “We’ve officially been together for five, married for six months. We met the summer before our rookie season”
“Oh, yes. I heard about you two, so your husband is a hockey player? Tell me about him”
Shane has a dilemma when people ask him this question. On one hand, he loves it because he gets to talk about the man he loves, it just spills out of him effortlessly, he doesn’t even have to try to talk about Ilya, sometimes it happens without even asking him the question. On the other hand, he’s at an event, he has to stay professional. Yes, they’re public and the first husbands of hockey now, but still. He has strict rules about their professional relationship. Despite this, he wants to tell Ian all the things he loves about Ilya, like the way he flutters around the kitchen humming while cooking, or the dip where his hip meets his thigh, but he can’t.
Still, he lights up, a switch flipped behind his ribs.
“He’s–” Shane starts, but then cuts himself off with a soft laugh. “He’s Russian, and so that means he’s a lot. In the best way. He’s competitive, especially with me. He’s loud when he’s comfortable, quiet when he’s not. He’s stubborn about the dumbest things, thinks he’s right all the time. He’s usually not”
Ian’s mouth curves.
“And,” Shane continues. “He cares in this… aggressive way. Like one time I mentioned I like this specific brand of ginger ale, and he bought me cases of them every week for years. Even if I wasn’t done with the previous case, he just didn’t want me to run out. He pretends he doesn’t notice, but he notices everything”
Ian huffs out a quiet laugh. “So the typical Slavic husband?”
Shane grins and nods in reply. “Is your husband Slavic?”
“Ukranian. His name is Mikhailo, but he goes by Mickey” Ian explains. “He’s just like you described Ilya as, just probably more crass”
Shane laughs obnoxiously loud at that. “They’re like big puppies that only like their owners”
The two men erupt into laughter, Ian nearly choking on his wine.
“That’s exactly it!” He says, pointing at Shane as if he’s just solved something profound. “Big feral puppies. Devoted to one person like it’s a full-time job”
Shane beams, pleased with himself. “Yes! That’s the vibe”
He relaxes fully now, shoulders dropping as the conversation shifts fully into safe territory: loving your husband in public.
“They act like they don’t care” Shane continues, warming up despite his earlier resolve to stay professional. “Like everything is whatever, no big deal. Then, you get a paper cut and suddenly they’re acting like it’s a medical emergency”
Ian snorts. “Mickey once threatened the pharmacist at CVS because he was ‘too slow’ filling my prescription”
Shane gasps dramatically. “Oh, that’s romantic”
“It was unhinged” Ian corrects.
“Same thing” Shane insists.
They both laugh, and the sound feels easy, unforced. Shane is happy to have made a friend, Ian is happy to have met someone who understands. Around them, the event drones on, someone giving a speech about community outreach or something, neither of them actually registered.
Ian studies Shane for a moment. “You really love him”
Shane doesn’t try to deflect.
“Yeah” He says simply.
Ian nods once, approving.
“So, does Mickey have a thing?” Shane asks as he gets braver, more comfortable talking to Ian. He hopes Ian knows what he means by ‘thing’.
“Like one specific thing?” Ian questions. “That makes me go soft?”
Shane laughs besides himself, and nods, glad that Ian knew exactly what he meant.
“He acts all big and tough, like no one could ever touch him. But when I wake up before him, say I’m getting ready for a shift or going on a run, he always pretends he’s asleep and watches me get ready. Like full on fake snoring to commit to the bit. But when I lean down to say goodbye and kiss him before I leave? He grabs my shirt. Every time” Ian tells Shane, with a wide smile gracing his face.
Shane blinks with a grin. “What?”
“I know, it's as if I don’t catch him in the act!” Ian exclaims.
Shane laughs, and takes a sip of his wine when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulls it out to see two new texts from Ilya.
ILYA<3: Good morning moya lyubov I have woke
ILYA<3: Did you talk to anyone? I know you hate these things
Shane smiles at his phone without realizing. Ian gives him a look when he notices. He puts his phone down by his side as he realizes how rude he’s being.
“He checking in on you?” Ian asks.
“Yes, see? Big puppy” Shane says softly.
Ian smiles into his glass. “Better reply before he starts pretending he doesn’t care”
Shane types quickly, mouth curved as he does so.
SHANE: You cannot say good morning when it is 10:48 at night. How was your nap honey?
SHANE: I think I made a friend. He and I bonding over our slavic husbands
Three dots appear almost instantly.
ILYA<3: Is he handsome?
Shane rolls his eyes, playfully. Of course he would ask that.
When he huffs a laugh suddenly, Ian raises his eyebrows in question.
“Jealous?” Ian says, knowingly.
“Absolutely” Shane replies, delighted. His phone buzzes again.
ILYA<3: I am hotter
ILYA<3: Objectively
Shane shakes his head, warmth flooding his chest in a way that feels steady and bright instead of overwhelming.
He wouldn’t trade this for anything.