Chapter Text
Shane:
Shane is nervous for his first day with the Centaurs. He and Ilya are finally on the same team after so many years playing against each other, so he should probably be happy. Or excited, at the very least. This is what he has secretly wanted for almost ten years at this point, but there's a lurking fear he just can't shake.
They don’t know.
He and Ilya had wanted to tell the team about them before Shane got traded, but Shane had chickened out. That almost-conversation turned into Shane curled up on the floor of his house on the phone with Ilya, crying and profusely apologizing.
So now he sits outside the practice rink in his car, waiting an appropriate amount of time after Ilya walks in to join his boyfriend.
Fiance, he corrects himself.
Shane fiddles with the ring currently sitting on a chain around his neck, the weight of the foreign metal digging into his skin in a way that made him want to crawl out of his body and retreat back to the life he always knew. The one he had lived for so long, hiding behind a mask, behind lies. But there was a certain comfort to the chain too, to the ring that now tied him to Ilya. Forever.
He takes a deep breath, considering taking the chain off and leaving it in the car, but he tosses that thought away, needing to know that even though no one else knows, he and Ilya will. They know what they are to each other, know they can get through another season of hiding, of pretending. They’ve gotten very good at it over the years.
After a few more minutes, he sees a few of his new teammates walk in, and finally gets out of his car. He sends a quick text to Hayden, wish me luck, and strolls into the locker room, trying to mimic Ilya’s confident walk and seem comfortable.
The locker room is loud, lots of chatter and laughter, and it catches Shane off guard. In Montreal, the locker room had always been quiet, even before practice. It was solemn, as if all the players were too busy with themselves to even think about talking to anyone. Shane would usually sidle up next to Hayden and whisper to each other before getting on the ice as quickly as they could. Shane appreciated the lack of lingering in his old locker room, even if it seemed impersonal and cold now.
There are many faces looking up at him now, some quizzical and some tentatively smiling at him, but he sees the look on Ilya’s face and almost laughs. He is grinning so hard it looks like his face is going to split in half. Ilya is almost giddy with excitement and anticipation. In his eyes, though, Shane can see his questioning stare. They’d already discussed what might happen when Shane joined the Centaurs, and how Shane was worried about the new team. His fiance’s eyes seemed to ask are you ok? Do I need to take you back outside and drive you back home?
Shane glances over at him and covertly shakes his head at him. Don't worry. I’ll be okay. He walks over to his stall, where his name is now written in big, bold letters above his head. It’s different, seeing his name next to a large Centaur instead of the Voyageurs logo he had been so used to seeing every morning. It’s definitely going to take some getting used to, but he changes quickly, avoiding eye contact with the team, especially Ilya, and races out to the ice.
He barely makes it out the door. He bumps into a man he recognizes as Harris, the head of the Centaurs social media, who seems not to notice the look of pure fear in Shane’s eyes as he smiles and begins to ask him way too many questions.
“Hi Shane! Or- would you rather be called Hollander at the rink? Anyway, I’m Harris!”
He sticks out his hand, and Shane shakes it, noticing the kind glint in Harris’ eyes.
“Shane’s fine.”
He wants to say more, but he can’t think of anything else to add. He’s never been very good with small talk.
Harris keeps talking to him for a few more minutes, asking about promo videos and setting up time for an interview for the new player. Shane barely comprehends any of it, instead deciding to stare into Harris’ eyes and pretend to make eye contact. He realizes that might seem weird, so he drops his eyes to Harris’ jacket and sees a rainbow pin.
Huh.
He hasn’t seen anyone be so loud about that before, especially in a hockey rink. Of course, a single pin can’t mean anything, right? Maybe he just likes the colors?
But then, a man comes rushing out of the locker room and Shane almost jumps as he turns around and sees Troy Barret, one of his new teammates, collide with Harris, smiling.
He never knew Barrett very well, apart from their time playing against each other on the ice, but he always thought Barrett was cold, always stone-faced and frowning during games.
The man standing before him now, grinning like a child at a candy store, looks like a totally different person.
“Harris!” he says sweetly, but there's a teasing look in his eye.
“I wondered where you were this morning. You weren’t there when I woke up this morning. I was worried!”
What? Are they roommates or something?
Before he can ask anything, Troy seems to notice Shane’s presence, and tenses up. It’s almost inconceivable, but Shane knows that immediate strike of fear all too well. He has felt it too, on many occasions.
Shane thinks he should probably get out of there. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but it’s making him uncomfortable. Luckily, he remembers that he’s supposed to meet with his coach, so he quietly nods at Harris and Troy and walks away.
Ilya:
Ilya can’t believe Shane is in his locker room. Finally, they're on the same team. He spent a long time last night, and this morning, trying to distract Shane from his anxious thoughts about his new team. His tactics worked, and got Shane to sleep eventually, but Ilya knows he is still worried. He understands the fear of starting with a new team all too well, after going through the same thing last season. But he knows the guys on this team will be welcoming, and that Shane will get along with them.
He notices how quickly Shane leaves the locker room, fleeing, and how his face is pale and fear-stricken. He feels bad, as though he caused this. He did, indirectly, by suggesting that Shane move to Ottawa after his contract ended. It was selfish, he knows, to ask Shane to move away from Montreal. Their two-hour long distance hadn’t been that bad, right?
He’s lying to himself. The two hour drive to see Shane in between games sometimes felt like it stretched on forever. He didn’t mind doing it, knowing that he would do anything for Shane, and Shane for him, but it had begun tearing him apart. So, he mentioned the Centaurs needing another center, and Shane had taken the bait.
He knows it wasn’t entirely his fault, but he is still scared Shane would start to resent him for making him start over.
It’s not like Shane was losing everything, though. Yes, he had his fancy team over in Montreal, but he had never felt very close to his team. He always told Ilya about feeling distanced from his teammates, except Pike, and Ilya knew he was hurt by it. Shane wanted to get to know his teammates, of course, but it was difficult for him to connect to people, especially when he spent all his weekends with Ilya and the rest of the time hiding who he really was.
Because, no matter what Shane told himself, there is a lot more to him than how good he is at hockey.
But, of course, he is very good at hockey.
There is so much to Shane that no one, including his family sometimes, gets to see. He is closed off, most of the time, with most people, and only lets himself out around Ilya. He opens himself up to pain and fear, all because he loves Ilya so much.
Ilya is just so happy he is the one to see Shane like that.
So after Shane leaves the locker room, Ilya waits a respectable amount of time before following him. As he turns to leave, he sees Barrett turn toward the door, a new glow sparkling in his eyes, and rush out too. He sees Shane freeze from outside of the door, tilting his head the same way he does when he tries to do the crossword in the morning paper (Ilya, of course, is no help with these stupid English words).
But Shane doesn’t loiter outside, and walks away, probably to go meet with his new coach. Ilya wants to follow, but decides to wait and not draw any more attention to them than necessary.
He knows Shane wants to keep their relationship, their marriage, a secret.
He just wishes it didn’t hurt so much.
Shane:
Shane knocks tentatively on the door of his new coach’s office.
“Come in!” a cheerful voice says.
Shane has seen Coach Wiebe during games against the Centaurs, and Ilya always speaks kindly of him.
But that doesn’t make Shane any less scared of him.
He’s used to Montreal's coach, Theriault, and his no-nonsense style of coaching, even when he was captain and involved in plays and practice. He was always afraid of his coaches, but Theriault was especially frightening.
He didn’t appreciate any kind of “Foolishness,” (that's what he called laughter and happiness) on the ice, and even though Shane and the rest of the team grumbled about it, they always took his advice and spent their practices completely focused.
Shane is quickly learning that the Centaurs are the complete opposite of the team he has worked with and lived among his entire career.
Coach Wiebe’s office has plain white walls, not completely decorated yet. He has only been the coach for about a year at this point, but by now there are posters along the walls, a framed team photo from last season including Ilya’s bright, teasing smile, and a photo of his family on the desk.
“Hello, Shane! Please, sit,” he says, and gestures to one of the chairs set in front of his large wooden desk.
“I know it’s your first day, so you’re probably itching to get to the ice, but I wanted to have a conversation first.”
Shane nods, and they discuss contracts and positions. Shane knew he wouldn’t be able to be first line center on this new team, but learning he would be on the second line still felt like a stab to the heart.
Second line. Shane Hollander.
“Shane?” Coach Wiebe looks nervous. “I know this isn’t what you're used to, but I was also considering putting you on wing. I watched the last all-star game, when you played with Ilya– I mean, Rozanov– and you two played so well together. I know it’s different, and maybe we would try it later, but maybe just for the power play at first?”
“Yes,” shane breathes. “I can do that.”
Even if he can’t be the star on this team, or the captain, he still has Ilya. Even if they’re a secret.
He knows it’s been hurting Ilya, not to tell his team, but Shane needs to know the team first. He’s never been very good at trusting people, but he needs to, especially if he and Ilya are going to play on the same team. On the same line.
He walks out of the office, turns the corner to get onto the ice, and is immediately yanked into another room.
He yelps, but notices this office is empty.
Except, there’s his fiance, grinning at him. Shane can see a question in his eyes, but before Ilya can ask, Shane kisses him.
He knows it’s dangerous, kissing at the rink, at work, but he just sees Ilya and melts.
“They want us to play on the same line,” he says after they pull away.
He watches as Ilya’s eyes glow with joy, but also notices a sly glint in his eye.
“I know.”
“You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I know because it was my idea.”
Shane shouldn’t be surprised. Of course Ilya planned this. He’s been doing this since the very first commercial they did together before they were even drafted. But…
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Shane pushed. “I could’ve been prepared, or practiced more, or–”
Ilya cuts him off with a kiss. Shane is still a little frustrated, a little embarrassed, but softens anyway. Ilya always had that ability, to make Shane fall into a puddle of joy and comfort.
“You will be good. Perfect. Don’t worry, moya lyubov.”
Ilya knows he can’t just stop worrying, but Shane knows what he means.
“I really need to go now,” Shane says, and pushes past him and stalks out the door, checking the hallway before exiting the office.
Ilya:
Shane is beautiful on the ice. He always has been, as long as Ilya has known him. But now, with him on the same team, he is able to, supposed to watch him. Instead of having to steal glances at him from the ice or from the bench, he stands with a clipboard outside of the rink, timing his players and calling out drills.
Even though Shane is nervous, on the ice he doesn’t show it.
He’s always been fearless while he’s skating. He knows exactly what to do, how to hold his stick, where to put the puck. He’s been doing it since he was old enough to walk, so it’s always been second nature.
Ilya obviously hasn’t known him for that long, but while they were still stealing moments in hotel rooms, he would look Shane up on the internet. Not just recent news or game highlights, but he always found himself looking at a young Shane playing hockey in his childhood. There weren’t many videos, only blurry photos posted by coaches or his family way after the fact, but it was still comforting.
Definitely not something a casual hookup would do.
He could accept it now, how in love he was with Shane, even from the first moment they met in Saskatchewan all those years ago.
It’s weird, though, knowing he still had to hide their love. Their relationship. He traces along the knuckles of his left hand, noticing the cold emptiness on his ring finger, and shivers.
Shane told him he wasn’t allowed to wear it there outside of their house. His fiance, always afraid of being found out. Ilya was too, of course, but after his father died, he knew he wasn’t losing much from his other family. He had a new one now. A better one.
With that thought, his hand raised to the chain around his neck. There, the memory of his mother laid against his chest. With it, his ring. The gold band matched Shane’s, and knowing he still had it with him grounded him.
His two worlds, side by side.