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Shane wasn’t a big dog person. Maybe that wasn’t fair. He wasn’t a very big animal person. He never had pets growing up. He was on a travel hockey team when he was still in elementary school. He never had the urge to ask his parents for a furry friend, and he is sure they would have been horrified at the idea of having to care for a pet while also carting him all over the Province every weekend.
So this afternoon has come as a bit of a shock. Shane knew Ilya wanted a dog. He sent him enough pictures of Chiron, the Centaurs team dog, for Shane to get the hint. He just didn’t know he was going to get one in the middle of the season.
He also never thought Ilya would adopt a pet without talking to him first. They were engaged. A part of him wants to be angry. This should have been a decision they made as a couple.
Shane watches Ilya roll around the floor, a small stuffed rainbow colored lobster in his hand as Anya, a dark brown and white mutt with so much fur it makes him want to sneeze, jumps all over grabbing at the toy.
This is really not how he expected to spend one of their rare long weekends together.
He can’t be mad when Ilya looks so happy. Happier than he’s seen him since the night they got engaged. Shane almost can’t believe how used to Ilya’s general sadness he had become. He’d missed Ilya’s true laugh, the big, boisterous one that he’s heard a million times today but before that hadn’t made an appearance since the summer. Then there is his wide, easy smile. They’ve been so hard to come by lately.
All of the planning in the world didn’t matter. Even getting married this summer might not change the amount of time they actually get to see each other, but Anya will mean Ilya is never alone in this big house he bought exclusively so that they could one day fill it with kids, and yes, dogs.
So no, he can’t be mad that Ilya adopted a dog, especially not one abandoned in the country and seemingly destined to warm Ilya’s heart while Shane is in Montreal. He’ll worry about him a little less now. Sure, there will be new concerns, like the number of toys that have already been shipped to his home and how often Ilya will insist on her sleeping on the bed. But Anya is surprisingly easy to love. Shane’s home will just have to get used to a little dog hair.
He’s just not ready to admit any of this to Ilya. No. He can sit here trying to piece together how Anya throws a 30 pound cannon ball into their lives for a while longer before letting his fiance off the hook. Otherwise who knows what new animals he’ll come home to next month?
---
Months pass. Anya doesn’t get much bigger. She’s absolutely a mutt. Shane’s sure there is beagle in there somewhere. There has to be, given how loud she gets when she needs a bath or the mail carrier walks past. The most surprising thing is that Ilya never got her a DNA test. Half of his teammates have dogs and the ones who have adopted from rescues all ran out to get some fancy test to tell them exactly what kind of unique mix was now living in their house.
But Ilya had said he would love Anya anyway, he wouldn’t want someone testing him and thinking he’d be just like his father.
Shane couldn’t argue. He’d never admit it but he was starting to really like Anya. Not that he’d want Ilya to bring home another pet without asking, but he’s so glad he surprised him just this one time. She might shed everywhere, god the winter was so brutal, but every hair was a reminder that little paws had been in his house.
The first time Ilya has a road trip while Shane has a stretch of home games he offers to take her.
“She’s my daughter, too, right?” He asks, even though he hates referring to an actual dog as their child. It’s ridiculous. But he knows it will make Ilya melt and that he secretly hates leaving her at the dog hotel while they’re both away.
Fine, maybe he doesn’t want her at the dog hotel either, and maybe he’s bought a few more toys the last time he went out shopping with Rose because they were cute and on sale.
Not like a good discount or anything. They were just for sale in a cute little boutique.
A nice shop they were in to get treats for Rose’s cats.
Fine. It was a boutique pet store and the two of them spent a full hour gushing over the cute toys, collars and the ridiculously cute coats made for animals of all sizes. He may have secretly bought Anya a Metroes jersey. They were shopping in Montreal, after all.
Ilya is gone for four days. Usually the idea of being stuck in Montreal for a stretch of time while Ilya was on the other side of the country would leave Shane feeling unsettled. It wasn’t right, like there was some fundamental flaw with the plan that got Ilya to Ottawa in the first place. Only now when they FaceTime at night Anya is there dozing on Ilya’s side of the bed.
“You said she sleeps in her own bed, yes?” Ilya asks, the hint of a laugh carrying through the phone speaker.
“Of course. I just wanted you to see her.” Lies. All lies. The first night Anya was here without Ilya she cried for twenty minutes when Shane put her to bed and then he caved. She’s slept next to him ever since. He’s not entirely sure how to rectify this behavior now. He isn’t even sure he wants to.
Maybe they’ll just have to get a bigger bed. Sure, they already have California Kings in both their bedrooms, but a twenty pound dog takes up a surprising amount of space at night and Shane needs to make sure Anya has enough room to get comfortable between her two hockey player parents.
---
Spring is in full swing. Frankly, it’s been awful. After being outed in a fucking FanMail video Shane has struggled to relax. Sure, plenty of people have been supportive, but there were still enough people being loud and hateful that sometimes Shane struggled to breath.
He knew Ilya felt it too. He was strong for Shane. Most days he was the only thing keeping him from collapsing. He made sure he got fresh air by insisting they walk Anya together, and then found an online course to teach her tricks.
Shane keeps her practicing longer than is reasonable every time he visits. Sure, it would be nice if he still had Ilya all to himself, but all things being equal Anya isn’t so bad. He wouldn’t have gotten a dog at this point in their careers but that doesn’t mean she can’t be well trained, and right now he’s working on a 7 step routine to teach her how to get him a ginger ale from the fridge.
“Shane, I know our daughter is smartest girl, but maybe is time to relax now, okay?” Ilya says with a gentle hand against Shane’s shoulder.
He can’t control much right now. Not really. Crowell has already tried to bench both of them. His coach refuses to speak to him in anything but a shout, and the rest of his team bristles the second he enters the locker room.
The only constant things Shane has in his life right now are his fiance, who he will always choose no matter what happens at the end of this season, and Anya.
He doesn’t have a choice about choosing Anya. She already wormed her way so far into Ilya’s heart that there’s no way he can pry her out, so he will make sure she is well trained and has enough toys to keep her mentally stimulated during the upcoming playoff stretch.
And fine, maybe he’ll be a little sad that during the first round of playoff games Anya will be staying with Harris’s family when Ilya is on the road. It’s not like they could really exchange her between games when they already promised they would avoid seeing each other outside of the arena.
Shane he has to make sure Harris, who he has never met but sent him a very kind text welcoming him to the Centaurs Spouses and Partners club, knows that Anya is cared for. He needs to be sure he know she is smart and gets the recommended amount of mental stimulation as well as physical exercise. He knows Harris and his family have many dogs, but he still worries.
Shane hopes Harris can recognize what he has come to know deep in his bones - Anya is special. Nothing can happen to her while he and Ilya are off playing hockey. It would kill Ilya, but Shane isn’t sure he’d survive the wreck either.
---
Shane will not be returning to the Metroes. His teammates believing he would trip on purpose was the final straw. They barely accepted his gayness these past two years, his relationship with Ilya was the final nail in the coffin of his capitancy. He would never be able to command that locker room again. What’s more is he doesn’t want to.
His teammates took a decade of memories and doused them in blood. He won three cups with them, was playoff MVP twice. He thought he would retire a Metro and have his jersey hang in their rafters for the rest of time.
The season just ended and he’s already been on the phone with his agent, Farah, three times. He needs a strategy and solid footing. He, Shane Hollander, always needs a plan. He can’t even begin to think about his upcoming wedding when he doesn’t know where, or if, he’ll be playing professional hockey next season.
“Ottawa doesn’t have the cap space for me,” He reminds Farah during yet another call. He’s being stubborn. He knows this. He doesn’t need the money. He’s impossibly wealthy and Ilya signed a historically large contract when he joined the Centaurs two years ago. But Shane is proud and he hates that his relationship, the most important thing in his life, might mean more than his record breaking career.
“They are open to negotiations. They would love to have you on their roster and are happy to support you and Ilya for the next several seasons, but it will come with a pay cut,” Farah says over the phone.
Anya barks from the other side of the living room. Again. It’s shrill and distracting. Ilya is on the couch playing a video game and pretending to not listen to his call and Shane shoots him a dirty look while he tries to process everything Farah says. There are numbers that are upsettingly low and clauses that feel too good to be true.
He’d never be paid what he’s worth but he would also never have to spend another night without Ilya again. There’s no real question about what he’ll do. Except he can’t think all of this through the way he needs to with Anya screeching.
“She wants the bear,” Shane says, trying to keep his tone even while he covers his phone.
“You are ridiculous. She does not like bear. She wants squirrel.” Ilya says, pausing his game to dangles a well loved toy missing half its stuffing in front of Anya, who barely pays it any attention before going back to her song of shrieks and yaps.
He wants to get back to his call. He needs a new contract and maybe if Anya would stop barking he’d be able to think clearly enough to say yes, draw up all the documents. It’s the only logical answer, but the logic part of his brain can’t work when his dog is upset and his soon to be husband is clueless how to solve it.
“Ilya, she’s been crying at the bear for like 20 minutes. She can’t reach it.” He thinks she probably could, if she really wanted to, but Anya seems to think there is an invisible barrier that keeps her from reaching things just slightly under the couch. She does this with the coffee table in Montreal too.
He’ll probably sell that piece with the house. No point bringing it here if Anya hates it.
“Shane, are you listening? Ottawa really wants to work with you but the money is tight. There are other teams that have called but I know you said this was your first choice,” Farah says through the phone.
He gives up and stomps across the living room and sweeps his arm under the couch, unearthing a sea of dog bones and stuffed toys that have been hidden away, probably since the last time he did this a week ago. Anya immediately charges for the bear, picking it up and prancing around the living room with it in her mouth.
Shane can’t help but smile as she settles into her favorite spot next to Ilya with her toy. His heart aches with how much he loves moments like this. Everything his heart beats for in one room, content and happy.
He tells Farah he doesn’t care about the money. How soon can he sign?
---
Over the summer Ilya runs with Anya every morning. At the cottage they take her for long, meandering walks around the lake and through the forest.
Shane thought their summers before were perfect, now they feel complete in a new way. Except there is always fur on his well loved coach and muddy pawprints in the kitchen.
If Anya cluttered his life back in the city, she absolutely destroyed it at the cottage. She loves to play in the lake fetching balls that Ilya throws so far he’s afraid she’ll drown. Both of them regularly end up covered in lake water. He refuses to let Anya into their bed without a bath.
It’s ridiculous. Anya hates baths, despite loving the lake. She fights them every second she’s in the tub with her expensive shampoo. She howls like if she’s loud enough someone might come and save her from this torture. It doesn’t matter if they put out peanut butter or try to trick her with toys. She yelps and scratches until everyone is miserable and Anya is the waterlog picture of displeasure.
And still, three times a week Ilya plays with her in the lake. Shane tries to be mad about this. He really does. He’s spent so much time and effort training Anya to be perfect that he wishes he didn’t understand how important this was for both of them. Ilya loves Anya like she’s their actual child and Anya looks at him like he is the center of her universe. So what if Shane’s the one who gets up early enough to get her breakfast, a fancy wet mix that he researched for hours that’s supposed to be good for her heart, brain, and coat.
He schedules her vet appointments, even though Ilya is fully capable, and stands in the corner of the room while Ilya holds her every time she needs a booster shot. Ilya always leaves with tears in his eyes even though Anya barely flinches. He’s taken over making appointments at the dog hotel, or with Harris, and occasionally his parents. Shane is the planner, and while Ilya was doing perfectly fine before he fully moved into his Ottawa home, he felt better being the one in charge of the family calendar.
One night, near the end of their summer break, Anya is out on her leash to do her nightly business while Ilya and Shane paw at each other in the kitchen. Then there is a yelp and the sound of Anya running from the middle of the yard all the way to the door, throwing her full body weight at it.
Ilya rushes to get her and gags the moment he opens the door.
“Fuck what is that smell?” He chokes out as he picks up Anya, dry heaving.
“Skunk.” Is all Shane can say as he dives under the sink. He’s prepared for this. There’s a special shampoo, one that won’t turn Anya’s white spots a weird color, made specifically for this.
If bathtime is usually terrible tonight it is hell. Anya keeps spitting and whining, Ilya can’t stop wretching, and Shane, well, Shane and his bathroom are covered in disgusting skunk water.
By the time everyone is clean and mostly dry there is still a lingering odor on Anya’s fur. Ilya has already started a load of laundry containing every towel and piece of clothing they were both wearing, and Anya’s collar.
“She can’t sleep in the bed,” Shane says. To his surprise Ilya doesn’t put up a fight.
“I will sleep with her in the living room. If I put down lots of blankets the couch will be fine,” Ilya says. No part of it is a question. Anya would be fine in the living room alone but Ilya would be miserable. Shane nods and retreats to the bedroom.
He tosses and turns for what feels like hours. He can’t reach over and put his arm around Ilya. There’s no tiny huff from Anya any time he moves. It’s unsettling.
By 2 Shane thinks he just needs to see them. If he can put eyes on Ilya and Anya and know they are fine and asleep he’ll be able to rest, too. It’s not like there was any real serious trauma, just the very common event of a dog getting sprayed by a skunk in the woods. It was inconvenient and irritating, but nothing terrible.
But when he pads into the living room it only takes one look to know he won’t be going back to his bed. No. Ilya is curled up with Anya in the crook of his bent legs. Shane could stare at them like this forever. They’re peaceful, quiet. It’s rare and it makes Shane’s heart burn with love and pride.
He sneaks over to the other end of the large sectional and lays down. All of the blankets are currently in use protecting the upholstery but he doesn’t care. He falls asleep with his feet touching Ilya’s.
---
Shane’s first season with Ottawa is a dream come true. It’s busy in all the ways he loves, but rewarding in a way he never experienced before. He’s always loved hockey. Playing against Ilya was always one of his favorite things. That was because he’d only gotten teasing previews of playing with him.
And every night he gets to come home and sleep next to his husband and their dog, who’s favorite place is snuggled up between their feet.
They have never had the luxury of quiet nights. The last decade of their love had consisted of stolen evenings and rushed mornings. Shane counts it as a blessing now. He’s sore and tired. Usually at this point in the season he’d be dreaming of having Ilya around.
Now he doesn’t have to.
Shane relaxes on the couch, thumbing through channels until he settles on a fairly unimportant game between Dallas and LA. Ilya’s in the kitchen grabbing drinks and snacks.
It’s cozy, domestic. Especially with Anya chewing on some specialty treat at his feet. He still doesn’t think he would have chosen this major life change, but he can appreciate how calming it is to pet Anya after a long day, and he’s stopped running straight to the bathroom to wash his face every time she covers him in dog kisses.
Mostly.
By the time Ilya is back LA is up by a goal and Anya has moved from her spot on the floor to Shane’s lap. He mindlessly holds the treat for her as she gnaws away, his other hand scratching softly behind her ears.
“Ah. This is betrayal,” Ilya says as he plops down next to Shane.
“What?” Shane asks with a laugh. Anya adjusts in his lap and he has to move her treat for her to have better access.
“Anya chose you over her papa,” Ilya says. It really used to irritate Shane that he referred to himself as her papa. He’d always thought that’s how Ilya would want their kids to address him and Anya was not their child.
But last month they threw her a birthday party. It was small, and was mostly a hang out with Chiron and the other dogs at the Drover Farm. Still, Ilya bought a cake and streamers and Shane got party favors of little stuffed toys that looked like hockey sticks.
They got her a party hat and spent a solid half hour taking pictures. When he sent them to his mom she responded back immediately with a million heart emojis calling her granddaughter perfect.
It was then that it really struck Shane, truly, that this was his family. One day there would be kids. He would move heaven and earth to make that happen. But right now, at this moment Ilya and Anya were it. She was basically their daughter. She was the first thing other than Ilya and hockey that he chose to love. It was a startling realization, one that had probably taken too long, given the sheer number of dog toys scattered across their house and the sheer amount of storage photos of her take up on his phone.
“Shut up, she wanted her dad,” Shane mumbles, his attention fully on the dog in his lap.
When he looks up from Anya, Ilya is staring at them both with a wide, easy smile. God, he loves this man. No. He loves his family. Maybe the next time Ilya jokes about bringing home another dog he won’t argue, at least not as much as he usually does. It could be nice for Anya to have a sibling.