Chapter Text
"Ilya! Shane! So good to meet you!" A short, energetic woman hurried toward them with an outstretched hand. "I'm Kristen, the center director. Harris has told me so much about you both. I was so excited when he said you were interested in volunteering."
"We are happy to be here," Ilya replied, shaking her hand warmly.
"We know you guys do great work," Shane added.
"Well, thank you! Let me tell you a little bit about the center." Kristen gestured for them to follow her down a brightly painted hallway covered in artwork and affirmations. "We've been around for about fifteen years. We're mostly a safe space for queer teens to hang out and interact with one another—we have game rooms, art studios, a gym and, a library. But we also have a crisis center where we respond to emergency situations."
She paused at a bulletin board covered in resource flyers. "We provide the teens with all kinds of resources, make sure they have food and a safe place to stay if they need it. The center has mental health professionals right on staff and a 24/7 crisis hotline for when kids are in immediate danger or need support."
Ilya and Shane exchanged a look, both clearly moved by the scope of what this place offered.
"That's incredible," Shane said quietly.
"It's pretty quiet right now, but school is just getting out, so it should pick up shortly," Kristen said, checking her watch. "Why don't you get started just walking around and introducing yourselves to some of the teens? I'm sure you'll have some fans around here." She smiled encouragingly. "I'll be around if you have any questions."
Shane and Ilya nodded, both clearly nervous.
"Don't worry, they're just teenagers. They won't bite," Kristen said with a laugh.
At that moment, a group of teens walked through the door, talking and laughing loudly.
"Hey, Ms. K!" they called out before plopping onto the big, overstuffed couches in the main lounge.
It took a few minutes before someone noticed the two hockey players standing awkwardly near the wall.
"Holy shit!" A teen with purple-streaked hair sat up straight. "Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov!" They jumped up and rushed over. "I'm Ty, they/them pronouns. I'm a huge fan!" Their eyes went even wider. "Do you know Scott Hunter?"
Ilya nodded. "Yes, we know Scott."
"That's so cool," Ty said, practically bouncing. "He's like, a total icon. You guys are too, obviously."
"I guess Scott is okay for dinosaur," Ilya said with a straight face. "He turns seventy-five next month."
Shane snorted. "You'll have to excuse my husband. He thinks he's funny."
"And please excuse my husband. He is very boring," Ilya chirped back.
Ty laughed, already charmed by their dynamic. "You two are exactly like I imagined. Come on, you should meet everyone!" They turned toward the group on the couches. "We all come here after school most days. We go to different schools around Ottawa, so this is like our safe space, you know? It's hard being out at school, it kind of makes you a target. But we're family here."
The casual way Ty said it and the weight behind "hard being out" and "family here" made Shane's chest tighten.
"We would love to meet everyone," Shane said sincerely.
Ty led them over to the couches where the other teens were now watching with varying degrees of interest and suspicion.
"Guys, this is Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov! They're here to volunteer or whatever."
"Hi," Shane said, giving a small wave that immediately felt awkward.
Ilya, never one to be self-conscious, grinned widely. "Hello! We are very queer and very married, just like you see on TV."
The teens asked all kinds of questions. About being accidentally outed and whether they still talked to Hayden. About Russia and its anti-LGBT laws. About how their families had reacted to their relationship. Shane and Ilya answered all of them honestly, taking turns sharing their story.
But it didn't take Shane long to notice the teen boy sitting alone across the room with a book in his hand and a scowl on his face. He was clearly trying to ignore the commotion, but Shane caught him glancing up occasionally, his expression unreadable.
"Who's that?" Shane asked Ty quietly during a lull in the conversation.
Ty followed his gaze. "Oh, that's Jack. He's...he keeps to himself mostly. Been coming here for a few weeks but doesn't really talk to anyone."
"Does he always sit alone?"
"Pretty much," Ty said with a shrug. "Ms. K says to give him space, that he'll open up when he's ready. Some kids just need time, you know?"
Shane nodded, but his eyes kept drifting back to Jack. There was something about the kid's defensive posture, the way he held himself apart, that reminded Shane of...well, himself at that age.
"I'm going to go say hi," Shane said, standing up.
Ilya caught his hand briefly, giving it a squeeze. "Be gentle, moy lyubov."
Shane walked across the room, very aware that several eyes were now watching him.
Shane walked across the room, very aware that several eyes were now watching him.
"Hi. I'm Shane. You're Jack?" he said, keeping his voice casual.
"Not interested," Jack said, barely glancing up from his book. "You should go back to your adoring fans."
Shane didn't leave. Instead, he gestured to the chair next to Jack. "Mind if I sit?"
Jack shrugged, which Shane took as permission.
"Whatcha reading?" Shane tried again after a moment.
"Why do you care?" Jack snapped, finally looking up. His eyes were sharp, defensive.
Shane met his gaze evenly. "Because I remember being the kid who sat alone with a book and didn't want to talk to anyone either."
Jack's expression flickered with something before the scowl returned. "Great. So you get it. You can leave me alone."
"Okay, well, I guess I'll go," Shane said, standing up. He paused. "But if you ever want to talk, or just sit in silence, I'll be around."
Jack didn't respond, but Shane caught the briefest hesitation before he buried his face back in the book.
Shane walked back to Ilya and the others, feeling Ilya's questioning look.
"He needs time," Shane said quietly.
Ilya nodded, understanding immediately.
After a few hours and a Mario Kart tournament that Ilya won (much to everyone's chagrin), it was time for Shane and Ilya to head out. They found Kristen in her office doing paperwork.
"Thank you so much for coming," she said warmly. "The kids really loved having you here."
"We loved being here," Shane said sincerely. "We'd like to come back, if that's okay. On our next day off?"
"Absolutely! You're welcome anytime."
Shane hesitated at the door, then turned back. "What can you tell us about Jack?"
Kristen's expression grew somber. "Oh, that poor kid." She leaned back in her chair with a sigh. "Both his parents died when he was little, and he was raised by his grandparents. Very old school, very conservative types. The grandfather caught Jack with another boy a few weeks ago and really did a number on him both physically and emotionally."
Shane's jaw tightened.
"He came to the crisis center that night, and we set him up with a group home. But he's really closed off. Doesn't want help, doesn't want to talk to anyone. Just comes here, sits with his book, and leaves."
"Has he opened up to anyone at all?" Ilya asked.
Kristen shook her head. "Not yet. We're hoping he will eventually, but..." She looked at Shane knowingly. "You saw something in him, didn't you?"
"He reminds me of someone," Shane said quietly. He didn't say that the someone was himself, the kid who'd always been different, awkward, too serious. The one whose world revolved around hockey because it was easier than trying to connect with people. Shane had been lucky enough to have a great support system, but he still remembered how isolating it felt to be the odd one out.
"Well, don't give up on him," Kristen said gently. "He's gone through so much more than a fourteen-year-old should have to handle."
"We won't," Shane promised.
Ilya spoke up quietly. "I lost my mother when I was twelve, and my father was also very conservative. Not a nice man." He paused, his usual playful demeanor gone. "I understand what it is like to feel alone even when people are around. I will try to reach him too."
Shane reached over and squeezed Ilya's hand, a gesture of comfort that didn't go unnoticed by Kristen.
"He's lucky to have you both willing to try," she said, her voice warm. "Sometimes all a kid needs is one person who understands. Maybe Jack will find that here."
"Maybe," Shane said, though he was already thinking about when they could come back, what he might say next time to get through Jack's walls.
As they walked out to their car, Ilya was quiet.
"You okay?" Shane asked.
"Yes. Just...thinking about that boy. About being fourteen and angry at the world." Ilya looked at Shane. "We will help him, yes?"
"Yes," Shane said without hesitation. "We will help him."
The mood at home was somber that night for Shane and Ilya. They sat on their couch, barely paying attention to the hockey game on the TV.
"My father almost caught me once," Ilya said quietly. "With Sasha. I was so scared, moy lyubov. He would have had me arrested if he didn't kill me first."
"Oh, Ilya," Shane said, pulling his husband close and pressing a kiss to his temple.
"I can't stop thinking about him, Shane. That boy, Jack. We are meant to help him. I know we are," Ilya said, his voice thick with emotion.
"I've been thinking about it too," Shane admitted. He hesitated, then continued, "What if we ask Kristen about fostering? We're already licensed."
Ilya pulled back to look at Shane's face. "You think it is possible?"
"I don't know. But we could ask. See if he'd even be open to it." Shane squeezed Ilya's hand. "He might say no. He might not want anything to do with us."
"But we try, yes?" Ilya said hopefully.
"Yeah," Shane said softly. "We'll try."
Ilya leaned his head on Shane's shoulder. "We would be good for him, I think. We understand."
"We do," Shane agreed, though his mind was already racing with all the ways this could go wrong and all the ways it could go right.
It was over a week before Shane and Ilya were able to make it back to the center. They'd had away games against LA and San Francisco and were exhausted from the travel, but they hadn't stopped thinking about Jack. So the next morning, they headed over.
The center was quiet when they arrived since it was a random Tuesday morning, but nevertheless Kristen grinned when she saw them walk through the door.
"You're back!" she said warmly.
"Of course," Ilya replied.
"Can we speak in your office?" Shane asked, his tone serious.
Kristen's brow furrowed slightly. "Of course. Everything alright?"
"Yes. It is good thing. I think," Ilya said, though his nervous energy suggested he wasn't entirely sure.
"Come on back."
Once everyone was seated in Kristen's small office, she folded her hands on her desk and looked at them both. "So, what's up, guys?"
"Well," Shane began, then hesitated, glancing at Ilya.
"We've been thinking," Shane started again. "And we've had our foster license for some time now. We got it a while back, just in case, and well..."
"We want to foster Jack," Ilya jumped in, unable to wait any longer.
Kristen's eyes widened in surprise. She sat back in her chair, processing. "Jack," she repeated slowly.
"Yes," Shane said. "We know it's...sudden. We know we've only met him once, and he barely spoke to us. But we can't stop thinking about him."
Kristen was quiet for a moment, then leaned forward. "Are you sure? Jack is a difficult case. He may not open up to you. He hasn't opened up to anyone. He may not even want to be fostered." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "And apart from that, are you sure you really want to bring a teenager into your home? Especially right now? I know your schedules are a nightmare during the season."
Shane and Ilya exchanged a look.
"We know it won't be easy," Shane said. "But we've been thinking about this all week. Actually, longer than that, we've had our foster license for two years. We've been waiting for the right situation."
"And you think Jack is that situation?" Kristen asked gently.
"I think Jack needs people who understand what it's like to hide who you are," Ilya said quietly. "To be afraid of your family. To feel like you have nowhere safe to go."
"We can't promise we'll be perfect foster parents," Shane added. "But we can promise we'll show up for him. That we'll keep showing up, even when it's hard."
Kristen studied them both for a long moment. "You've really thought about this."
"We have," Shane confirmed.
"And yes, our schedules, they are crazy during season," Ilya said. "But we have support. Shane's parents, my friend Svetlana, our teammates and their families. Jack would not be alone when we travel."
"Well, if you're sure, I can put you in contact with the social worker at the group home, and she can talk you through the next steps." Kristen paused, her expression serious. "But guys? I suggest you talk to Jack first before you reach out to them. I think it will go a long way toward building trust. He needs to know this is about him, not just about you wanting to foster someone."
The men nodded, understanding the gravity of what she was saying.
"He usually gets here around 3:30... why don't you stop back in then?" she suggested.
"We will be here," Ilya said firmly.
"Thanks for everything," Shane added.
Kristen smiled warmly. "Go get some lunch, enjoy each other's company. I'll see you back here in a few hours."
As they left the center and walked to their car, Shane felt his stomach twist with nerves.
"What if he says no?" Shane asked quietly.
Ilya took his hand. "Then we respect that. But at least he will know someone wants him. That someone sees him."
Shane squeezed Ilya's hand, grateful as always for his husband's perspective. "You're right."
"Of course I am right," Ilya said with a small smile. "Now come. We eat something. We need energy for this afternoon."
They sat in a diner near the center, the lunch rush buzzing around them while they occupied their own bubble of nervous energy. Shane's grilled chicken and vegetables sat mostly untouched in front of him, while Ilya had barely made a dent in his greasy cheeseburger, fries, and large Coke.
"Are we crazy to do this?" Shane asked, moving a piece of chicken around his plate.
"You are having second thoughts?" Ilya asked, his neutral.
"No, not second thoughts. Just..." Shane looked up, meeting Ilya's eyes. "He's already been hurt so much in his life. What if we make it worse? What if we can't help him? What if he opens up to us and then we fail him somehow?"
Ilya reached across the table and took Shane's hand. "We will make mistakes, moy lyubov. That is part of being parent. But we will also show up every day. We will be there even when it is hard. Even when he pushes us away."
"He's going to push us away," Shane said, not a question.
"Probably many times," Ilya agreed. "Because that is what hurt people do. They test you to see if you will leave like everyone else."
"And we won't," Shane said quietly, his resolve strengthening.
"We won't," Ilya confirmed. "So yes, maybe we are little bit crazy. But also? I think we are exactly what Jack needs."
Shane managed a small smile. "Yeah. Me too."
****
The hockey players were here again. Jack groaned internally. He didn't need the rah-rah cheerleader reminder that it was okay to be gay and also like hockey. His grandpa had destroyed that for him.
Hockey had been their one connection. The thing they both loved. After his mom and dad died when he was four, his first memories were of his grandpa strapping a pair of skates on his feet and telling him to skate the pain away. It had helped for a while, and then his grandpa got more intense, more competitive.
Jack was never good enough, never fast enough, his passes never clean enough. And if he made enough mistakes, he'd have to bag skate until he threw up. But still, he'd hung onto his love of the game.
Until Grandpa caught him kissing Billy Driscoll.
That was the end.
Grandpa had whaled on him, calling him every name in the book, telling him he wasn't raising a sissy, that he'd gotten him into hockey to "toughen him up." As if skating until you puked was supposed to make you straight. As if all those hours on the ice were supposed to beat the gay out of him.
Now hockey was ruined. Just another thing his grandpa had taken from him, along with his home, his safety, any chance of a normal childhood.
So no, he didn't need two famous queer hockey players showing up to tell him everything was going to be okay. Because it wasn't.
Jack scowled when they approached him, but they obviously couldn't take the hint.
"Mind if we sit?" Hollander asked.
"Free country," Jack grunted, not looking up from his book.
They sat anyway.
"This is funny expression. We do not say this in Russia," Rozanov said, sounding genuinely amused.
"Obviously," Jack snorted.
"How are you doing?" Hollander asked.
Jack finally looked up, his eyes hard. "Why do you care?"
"Because—" Hollander started.
"Why are you wasting your time with me?" Jack snarled, cutting him off. "I'm not a charity case or your good deed for the day. I don't need anyone."
The words hung in the air between them. Hollander didn't flinch, didn't look away.
"We're not here because we think you need us," Hollander said quietly. "We're here because we wanted to talk to you."
"About what?" Jack asked suspiciously.
Rozanov leaned forward slightly. "About what happened to you. And about maybe...maybe you coming to live with us."
Jack's book slipped from his hands and hit the floor with a thud.
"Why?" Jack asked, his voice breaking slightly despite his attempt to sound tough. "Why would you want that? I'm all fucked up."
"Aren't we all?" Shane asked gently.
"Did you also get beaten when you got caught kissing a boy?" Jack said with a vicious gaze, daring them to claim they understood.
Shane hesitated. "Well, no..."
"My brother threatened to have me thrown in jail when he heard rumors about me," Ilya said quietly. "And my father almost caught me once. I have never been so scared in my life. He would have killed me—actually killed me."
Jack's expression flickered with something, recognition maybe, before the walls slammed back up.
"So you got away. Good for you," Jack said bitterly. "Doesn't mean you get what it's like now. You're famous, you're out, you're married. You won. I'm stuck in a group home with my entire life in a garbage bag."
"You are right," Ilya said, surprising him. "We cannot know exactly what you are going through. But we know what it is like to be scared. To hide. To feel like you have no one."
"And we know what it's like to finally have someone," Shane added. "We want to be that for you, if you'll let us."
"If you do not like being with us, we won't force you to stay," Ilya said. "Maybe we do trial period? See how it feels?"
"In case you decide I'm too damaged," Jack said flatly.
"No," Shane said firmly. "In case you decide you're not comfortable with us. This has to be your choice, Jack. If it's not the right fit for you, you can move on. But we'd really like to try."
Jack stared at them, clearly waiting for the catch, for the conditions.
"We have big house," Ilya continued, "and you will have your own room. And we have pool and dog."
"A dog?" Jack said, his expression brightening slightly despite himself.
"Anya," Ilya said, pulling out his phone to show Jack a photo of their dog. "She is the best. Very friendly, very soft. She loves everyone."
Jack looked at the photo, and for just a moment, the scowl softened into something that might have been longing.
"She's...okay, I guess," Jack said, trying to sound indifferent but failing.
"She would love you," Shane said. "And she's really good at making people feel better when they're having a rough day."
Jack was quiet for a long moment, his fingers fidgeting. "I don't know how to...I've never lived with anyone who was actually okay with me being gay."
"Is a part of you," Ilya said gently. "A very big part, yes, but still only a part. We want to know all of you...what you like to read, what makes you laugh, what you dream about. Not just the gay part."
He paused, then added, "And we have many queer friends and teammates. You would not be alone in this. Our friend Troy and his boyfriend Harris. Harris is the one who volunteers here, you have met him, yes? And our teammate Luca, he is gay and demisexual. Our friend Fabian is musician and also gay. And you know about Scott Hunter, yes?"
Jack's eyes widened slightly. "Scott Hunter is your friend?"
"Eh," Ilya said with a dismissive hand wave. "Is complicated."
Shane snorted. "Ilya thinks he's too old to play hockey."
"He is fossil on ice!" Ilya protested.
"Anyway," Shane said, "Scott and his husband Kip would love to meet you too."
Jack blinked rapidly, like he was fighting back tears. "I don't...I don't understand why you're doing this."
Shane leaned forward slightly. "Because when Ilya and I were younger, we didn't have anyone showing us that being queer was okay. We hid for years. And we don't want you to feel like you have to hide anymore."
"Plus," Ilya added with a small smile, "Anya needs someone to play with. We are gone too much. She gets lonely."
Despite himself, Jack let out a small, choked sound that might have been a laugh. "You're bribing me with a dog."
"Is it working?" Ilya asked hopefully.
"Maybe," Jack said quietly. He hesitated, then asked, "Would I have to change schools?"
"Do you want to?" Shane asked.
"No. I'm in AP Literature, and usually you can't take it until you're a junior. My English teacher is really cool. Really accepting," Jack said, and it was the most he'd said about himself since they'd met him.
"Then you stay at same school," Ilya said firmly, like it was the simplest thing in the world.
"What if it's too far? I mean, I could take the bus," Jack said quickly, already preparing for them to back out.
"We will take you on days we can, and hire car service for days we can't," Ilya said easily, as if the cost and logistics were completely irrelevant.
Jack stared at them. "You'd really do that?"
"Of course," Shane said. "Your education is important. And if you have a teacher who's good to you, we're not going to take that away."
Jack looked down at his hands, his jaw working like he was trying to keep himself together. "I don't know what to say."
"Say you will think about it," Ilya suggested gently. "That is all we ask. Think about it, talk to your social worker, come visit the house maybe. See if it feels right."
"Yeah. Yeah, okay," Jack said, his voice shaky. "If you're sure. But could we...could we go talk to my social worker together?" He looked up at them, vulnerable in a way he hadn't been before. "I don't want to do it alone."
"Of course," Shane said immediately. "We'll be right there with you."
"The group home van picks me up in about an hour," Jack said, glancing at the clock on the wall.
"Let's go talk to Kristen," Shane said, standing up. "Make sure she's okay with us driving you to the group home. If it's okay with her, we'll drive you."
"We go now," Ilya added, also standing. "Is better to do scary things quickly, yes? Like ripping off Band-Aid."
Shane extended a hand to Jack. "Come on."
Jack took Shane's hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. And for the first time since they'd met him, he didn't pull away.