Chapter Text
I have to end things. Before one of us gets hurt. This is too real.
These are the thoughts that run through Shane Hollander’s head as he gasps for air, staring down at the man who just said his name. His first name. Suddenly, this… convenient hook-up (because that’s all it was, surely) is on the verge of becoming something more, something that can’t happen.
It’s not that Shane is scared of relationships. He’s had girlfriends- as in plural, more than one- and he knows he is far from the worst boyfriend out there. Hockey and his career are just more important right now, which is why Ilya has been a great way to relieve himself sexually for the past couple of years.
Ilya.
The man staring up at him, panting just as hard as Shane. There’s a soft look in his normally stern eyes, a look that Shane has only glimpsed a handful of times since they met. A look that Shane is now realizing has been reserved for him, for these quiet, intimate moments they share every couple of months.
Oh god. I need to go.
As Shane flees the house, a sinking feeling of doom washes over him, paired with a healthy dose of confusion.
I did the right thing. I know that.
He’s still numb as he gets into his Uber. Thankfully, one had been nearby, so he was able to make his escape quickly. He stares at the trees passing as his view of Ilya’s compound slowly fades from view.
As he enters his hotel room for the night, Hayden is snoring softly, already asleep. He puts his things down and goes into the bathroom to get ready for bed. After going through the motions of his nighttime routine, he stops, staring at himself in the mirror with the harsh overhead lighting.
Why does it still hurt?
***
Days, weeks, and months go by, and the anxious feelings fade. Shane hooks up with several other people. Something is still missing, so he tries another man, a normal guy who doesn’t know Shane’s identity as a hockey player and can keep a secret. That feels almost as wrong as the women, so instead of risking more exposure, Shane recognizes that it’s better to find a nice girl he can see a future with.
So when he meets Rose Landry, box office superstar and hockey know-it-all, he figures this must be fate. They get along so well, their friends approve of the choice, and the media loves them. It should be easy. It is easy. Shane genuinely looks forward to the time they spend together and enjoys texting her when they are apart. Sure, he’s a little more awkward around her than other people in his life, but he knows that’s just because he doesn’t want to mess up. That’s all.
Right?
***
Well, that’s embarrassing.
Shane was wrong, of course. He’s gay. He knows that now. He hasn’t actually said the words “I’m gay,” outloud to anyone yet, but he knows, and Rose knows. Rose, his new best friend.
Armed quite literally with the power of friendship and the knowledge that life is too short not to try to fix what’s broken, he heads off to the All-Star games to make things right.
***
He didn’t realize until the words left his lips just how liberating it would be to tell someone. Let alone him.
Ilya.
Ilya, who he held in his arms that night as they comforted each other, a mutual understanding of yearning that had gone unaddressed for too long.
+++
I have to end things. Before one of us gets hurt. This is too real.
No matter how much Ilya tries to shake the thoughts away, throwing himself into hockey like he hasn’t in years, the thoughts persist. Dangerous. Trouble. Home.
Still, he meets up with that man when their schedules align. The few precious free hours he has, dedicated to memorizing each other’s bodies. Those freckles, those moans, those lips; the source of all his problems.
Shane.
Jane, he thinks, glancing back down at his phone, seeing the texts where he agreed to meet after their game tonight. Fuck.
Ilya knows he needs to end things. That is the only possible explanation for the pressure in his chest, the way he struggles to sleep at night, the way that even texting Shane sometimes makes him want to run laps around his house. As he is doing now.
Obviously, he was hurt when Shane abruptly ended… whatever they had going on, and went and got himself a girlfriend. A girlfriend who was somehow more famous and cooler than Ilya (though he would never admit it to anyone who asked). Ilya told himself that he was only upset because Shane found a cool girlfriend before he did, and that he lost a guaranteed satisfying hookup. But sometimes, he admitted the truth to himself when he was alone in bed at home, recalling the years prior.
His breath comes out in harsh, short pants. He didn’t realize how hard he had been pushing himself, lost in his thoughts as he was. He slowly brings himself down to a brisk jog to cool down; there's no sense in tiring himself out before an eventful game.
As his body cools off, so does his mind. Ending things makes perfect sense. Ilya likes to sleep around; Shane is clearly a relationship kind of guy. And even if Ilya was ready to settle down, Shane deserves a chance to explore his newfound sexuality. And Shane is such a nice guy, no matter how much he tries to hide it; Ilya is an asshole and doesn’t try to hide it at all. They clearly were incompatible, even if they originally thought otherwise.
And if all that wasn’t enough, they could never even have an actual relationship. Sneaking around for hookups is fun; the tension behind the secrecy adds to an explosive release each time. A relationship between the two of them would be the exact same, which isn’t even a real relationship. So, why bother with these feelings? It’s not like either of them could ever actually come out, let alone together.
Ilya nods to himself. His mind is made up. He knows Shane will be disappointed, but a small part of him laughs at the karma of it all, recalling how it wasn’t all that long ago that Shane had walked out on him. They’ll both be happier in the end for this. Maybe one day they can be real friends, too.
Whatever. Game time.
+++
It’s a tense game. Games that feature the famous Hollander v. Rozanov rivalry are always intense for the fans, both those in the crowd and those at home. But over the roars of the audience at each goal, each save, each shove against the boards, Ilya and Shane are laughing. On the ice, it’s easy to remember why they work so well. They have fun together. But as Shane smiles at Ilya over his shoulder, chasing down a long pass, Ilya fights back a grimace. What are we doing?
***
Shane is momentarily so puzzled by Ilya’s lack of a return smile that for a second, just a second, his mind is taken off the game entirely. Something that never happens for the prodigal, once-in-a-lifetime talent. So he is far from the only person surprised when a massive, hulking body slams into his smaller frame and he goes sprawling on the ice.
What the-
Dizzily blinking up at the ceiling, the shock of the hit and the coldness of the ice temporarily stop Shane from feeling any pain. Keyword being temporarily.
Ouch.
He groans, slowly sitting up and clutching the shoulder he landed on with his opposite arm. Ugh. Definitely dislocated. He already sees the referee motioning for medics. He didn’t even realize that the play had been stopped. He must have been stunned longer than he thought. He feels fine other than the throbbing pain radiating from his shoulder, but he’s been in the hockey world long enough to know there’s a very good chance there are other injuries he hasn’t yet realized.
As the medic helps him skate off the ice to be examined, Shane can’t help but glance back at the opposing team’s captain. Ilya had stayed near, but hadn’t helped him up or asked if he was OK. Shane thinks he sees a glimpse of concern in Ilya’s eyes as he moves away, but whatever he thinks he saw is quickly masked by steely resolve.
He’s probably just getting ready to keep playing now that I’m off the ice.
+++
Ilya doesn’t even remember finishing the game. They win, of course, only in part because Montreal’s star player is out for injury. All that replays through his mind during the game, in the locker room after, and the drive back to his hotel, is remembering the flash of genuine fear he felt when he saw Shane fall.
Ilya is fearless- there is no place for such an emotion in his life.
A notification flashes on his phone as he gets undressed from his suit in his hotel room. It’s the team groupchat.
Hollander is OK- dislocated shoulder, out for a couple of months.
Ilya is relieved for his teammate and friend, Cliff, who he knows was genuinely concerned. Despite his size and playstyle, he knows that Cliff would be sad for a while if he actually seriously injured someone.
He’s also happy for Shane, because he knows Shane would be devastated if he were too injured to return. Injuries are part of what they all signed up for in the world of hockey. An injury like this is so common that Ilya knows Shane is only going to be upset he’s benched for a couple of months.
So, if anything, Ilya is more than resolved to end things tonight.
***
1842.
A room number. Shane is surprised to see the text from Lily. Surprised, but pleased. He thought Ilya wouldn’t want to see him tonight, wanting to give him some space to recover. He thinks that maybe this is Ilya trying to be polite and not reschedule, even though he knows Shane won’t be able to do… whatever it is they had planned before.
Dislocated my shoulder, but no concussion or anything like that. They just said I was in shock from the hit. They popped it back in, but I do need to take it easy for a few weeks at least. I can’t even handle a stick for a month. I don’t think I can do anything tonight.
There. Now Ilya doesn’t have to feel guilty for rescheduling.
I know. Just want to talk.
Oh. Shane blinks stupidly at his phone. They didn’t usually meet up without sex, but he found he was excited just the same. It was nice when they had a chance to explore their feelings outside of the bedroom. Maybe tonight, Shane could finally propose the question that had been on his mind since the All-Star games. Maybe tonight he could finally invite Ilya to spend some of the off-season with him.
+++
Ilya isn’t anxious. He’s not nervous as he opens the door and lets Shane in. He feels only a little guilty when he subtly moves his head, and Shane’s lips brush the side of his own instead of full-on. He sees the hint of confusion in Shane’s eyes when he doesn’t correct it into a proper hello kiss. He ignores the slight urge to fix it.
He gestures to the sitting area just steps away. “Sit. Please,” he adds.
Ilya may be kind of a dick, but he’s not a terrible person. He’s going to do this as painlessly as possible. Shane sits down.
“What’s going on?” Shane faintly chuckles, the sound fading quickly as he takes in Ilya’s face, which is somehow more serious than the usual blank slate he wears. “You know I’m OK, right? The docs said everything was fine, it was just the shock of the fall-”
“It’s not that, Hollander,” Ilya interrupts. “Glad you’re OK, yes, but… I’ve been doing some thinking.” He pauses, unsure of how to best proceed.
Shane nervously smiles, a thin, wobbly line. “Thinking, huh?” He teases, but his tone is oddly strained. He can sense something is off.
His smile drops quickly when Ilya doesn’t rise to the bait.
Ilya can’t meet Shane’s eyes as he starts, accent thick, “We can’t continue like this. You need to explore being gay. We need to focus on hockey-”
Now it’s Shane’s turn to cut him off. “What are you talking about?”
“You deserve to meet other people,” Ilya says, once again taking control of the conversation, voice steady but looking anywhere except in Shane’s direction. “And it’s important season for Boston, I need to focus on my game.”
“I don’t want to meet other people!” Shane says, almost immediately.
Ilya doesn’t have to be looking at Shane to know his face must be crestfallen.
“It’s always an important season for hockey, that’s literally our job!” Shane takes a ragged breath in, attempting and failing to keep his composure. “And I don’t know about you, but I am always focused on hockey! That’s why this is so perfect; no one else would ever understand that,” He stares at Ilya, daring him to meet his eyes.
Ilya raises his head, looking straight back. “Then let me be clear. I don’t want to sleep with you anymore. I want my life back, I want to have fun, to not worry about this, about you. You deserve better than that,” he continues, as Shane’s mouth falls open and slack in surprise. “This was just supposed to be for fun because we were curious, yes? OK, no longer curious. We can be done.”
“I deserve better? Or you do?” Shane demands quietly, brokenly, searching Ilya’s face for answers. He finds none, and Ilya matches his searching with a blank slate. If thinking that lowly of him is what convinces Shane to accept this decision, then Ilya will let him.
Shane swallows, silently continuing their staredown. Whatever resolution he sees on Ilya’s face must be enough to convince him to stand down. He stands abruptly, walking the short distance to the door.
“Goodbye, Rozanov. Take care.”
***
Shane fights the urge to slide down the door as it shuts firmly behind him, knowing there could be eyes. He didn’t even check if the coast was clear before he left Ilya- no, Rozanov’s- room. Choosing to blame any tears in his eyes on the dull throb radiating from his shoulder, he carefully adjusts his sling and takes a deep breath. He solemnly begins the walk back to his hotel room. Alone.
Once in the elevator, he glances down at his phone and opens his recent texts. He hovers over the Delete option on his text thread with Lily. He coincidentally sniffs as he presses confirm. This is normal. They do this- did this- after every hookup anyway, to aid in their deception. He opens Lily’s contact information and hovers over Delete on this page.
“Hey, buddy! Shouldn’t you be in bed getting some rest?” He looks up, surprised to see Hayden stepping into the elevator with him. He quickly locks his phone screen, shoving it into his pocket as best as he can with his one usable arm, Lily and all the associated confusion put aside for the moment.
“Yeah, I just wanted to take a walk and get some air for a bit,” Shane answers. “What are you doing out?”
“I wanted to grab some snacks for you!” He wiggles a package of unpopped popcorn in Shane’s direction. “I know you have that weird diet or whatever, but I thought you might want some actual carbs after that scare today.”
Shane smiles gratefully at him. Normally, even on a particularly hard day, he would stick to his diet. But maybe he needs some comfort food for once. “Thanks.” He nods gratefully at Hayden, accepting the popcorn bag now that his one good arm isn’t holding his phone.
A few minutes later, the two of them are walking back into their shared hotel room, talking casually about which movies to throw on while they relax. As Hayden helps Shane plug his phone in (he got tired of watching him struggle to do it with one hand), he casually asks, “Did you make sure Lily isn’t worried?”
Shane startles, glancing up from the remote he was currently operating, trying to get the fancy smart TV to open Netflix. He had just managed not to think about Ilya for a second. He didn’t blame Hayden, though; his best friend obviously didn’t know Lily was actually his archrival, whom he had been secretly fucking (and maybe being something more than just fuckbuddies) for years.
“Oh, uh, I don’t think I’ll be hearing from Lily again.” He frowns, looking back up at Hayden. “She… she actually ended things tonight.”
“Dude!” Hayden exclaims. “I’m so sorry- I had no idea. I wouldn’t have said anything if I knew. And I would have grabbed so much more junk food!”
At that, Shane lets out a weak laugh. “Really, it’s all good, man. It wasn’t that serious anyway.” The lie throbs in Shane’s chest. “It ran its course a while ago. Not like we were actually together or anything. It’s for the best.” He knows he sounds like he’s convincing himself still, but he also knows it really is for the best- he’s above begging for scraps. He already apologized and laid his heart out to Ilya before. If Ilya won’t recognize that, then he knows he deserves better.
Ilya said so himself.
***
Shane tells Rose a few days later. He doesn’t out Ilya, of course, he would never. He just tells Rose that the man he had been seeing on and off for several years ended things, and he was upset about it, but would be OK. Rose is, as always, sympathetic and knows exactly what to say.
Weeks and months go by, and Shane feels himself start to heal, both physically from his injury and also emotionally from the abandonment. He stops obsessively checking his phone to see if Lily has texted. He stops watching Boston’s games outside of team reviews. He stops checking his schedule to see when he will next be in the same city as Ilya. He stops looking for him at events. He turns his focus on learning to have a better work-life balance between hockey and his friends and family.
Yuna and David were, of course, happy to have Shane coming home more often in his free time. When they brought it up over dinner one night, Shane said simply, “I lost sight of where home was. I found it again.”
Hayden and JJ were the only other two (aside from Rose) who knew at least part of the real reason Shane suddenly had so much free time. A few weeks after he stopped seeing Ilya, Shane took the two of them aside after practice one day and decided to come out. He was tired of hiding such a big part of himself from his closest friends. It wasn’t any of their faults that a few other teammates happened to walk around the corner at the same time that Shane said, simply, “I’m gay.”
Everyone froze, and Shane thought his heart would explode out of his chest from how fast it was beating. Then, one of his teammates (Coop, someone he had played with for a few seasons) just nodded and said, “Cool.”
It seemed as though everyone in the hallway let out a breath of air at the same time. Coop and his friend nodded at Shane and kept walking. Shane wasn’t surprised when, by the next practice, everyone seemed to know. And other than a few guys who seemed a little more self-conscious in the locker room, there were no issues.
And now that his team knew, and he still had a job and friends, Shane finally felt like he could maybe tell others. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard for Shane to actually let himself be gay. Maybe he could go out and explore.
But first, he needed to tell his parents.
Yuna and David weren’t at all surprised, much to Shane’s chagrin.
Over dinner the following weekend, Yuna was explaining to Shane how she and David had always suspected, but they never wanted to pressure him.
“We love you, Shane. Loving you means accepting all of you. We were honestly surprised when you started dating Rose,” she pauses, turning to David with a frown before looking back at Shane. “That poor girl- you better not have been leading her on for long.”
Shane laughs. “No, mom, I wasn’t, I swear. I genuinely thought that I wasn’t gay,” he stops, frowning briefly. “OK, well, I knew that I probably liked guys, but I didn’t realize that meant no girls at first. And Rose is actually the one who figured it out. There’s a reason she’s still my best friend.”
Yuna nods, satisfied. David smiles at his little family, happy with the life he and his wife created together. Shane feels content, knowing that the most important people in his life finally know and accept everything about him.
Well, almost everything. But Ilya is not only his secret to share, and even though part of him would always be hurt, it was one part of his life that his friends and family couldn’t know about.
That secret is even harder to bear when Scott Hunter of all people comes out on national television with his partner after winning the Cup. Shane sits there in stunned silence as his parents beam grins his way, exclaiming how exciting and progressive this is for the league and for his future.
Shane steals several glances at his phone, thinking of the one person who knows exactly how he feels.
+++
Ilya drops the pants he was in the middle of shoving into his suitcase. How the hell did he miss that Hunter, the octogenarian of the league, was gay?
He picks up his phone, then pauses. He’s only halfway conscious of who he had been planning to text, but the feeling he gets has him dropping his phone back on his bed.
It’s better this way.