Chapter Text
Officially joining the Centaurs in Ottawa had been great for both Ilya and Shane. They both loved sharing the ice, becoming the most feared couple of the NHL, and in the few months since their first game together, raising the team to the top of the league. Shane had been openly welcomed by both his new team mates and the fans of his hometown, on both the hockey playing front and the coming out as dating Ilya Rozanov front.
All the Hollander-Rozanov small on and off ice interaction became viral, fans going wild for and scraps of Hollanov content. The video they had posted together announcing their engagement had the effect of a nuclear bomb on the public eye, the narrative changed from dating scandal to cute queer love story. Their love represented what gay and bisexual players still had to go through in the obvious homophobic and toxic masculine locker rooms.
The pictures Ilya had posted of their backyard wedding had broken records of likes, shares and comments, because they were what so many queer people needed to see, Shane and Ilya were the representation so direly needed, they showed that happy endings were a possibility.
The media had turned the whole affair into a Shakespearean tragic love story where the real life Romeo and Juliet were finally together. Ilya and Shane argued profoundly who was who in that scenario and finally they agreed to disagree.
Their public life had drastically changed over a short amount of time and so had their private lifes.
Shane had to move away from the habits and routine he longly practiced as a player in Montreal. He was accustomed to Ilya’s house in Ottawa, after all he had spent a long time there with his now husband and Anya, their dog, yet the place had still felt more like Ilya house than the both of theirs.
For it to become a shared home, the only one both called home, the one they would spend the rest of their careers, if not life, living together, some changes had to occur. Ilya, had to swap out multiple times varying items around the house, one time it was the kitchen towels that were too scratchy, the other time it was the fridge organisation that was all wrong and had to be rearranged.
“These are small things that I could ignore before. Now it’s forever going to be our house and they have to be addressed for everyone’s comfort”, Shane had explained. Ilya hearing the words ‘forever’ and ‘our house’ had instantly become mush on the inside and gave up arguing. Of course not without adding some snarky remark, but both felt content.
They had over the months learned to set boundaries for things they wouldn’t budge on and learn to compromise. ‘Compromise’ Ilya heard that a lot during that time, and while he would never admit to it, he loved it. Because it was the word every marriage was built on, they finally could be what everyone else could easily have. They learned its true meaning of sharing and caring, one where Ilya started expressing his wants, understanding that he too was able to ask for Shane’s care.
This wasn’t new, it was something he had been working on for a while with his therapist. His instinct had always been to take the burden onto himself and shield those he loved, be it Shane, Yuna, David or his team. With time, patience, therapy and a lot of compromise, Ilya was able to deactivate his shield and ask for help, asking for the things he needed and wanted, at least 65% of the time.
Shane too had grown to recognise the signs of Ilya holding back. Shane understood that he couldn’t live like he had before, he needed to choose either his micromanaging or his husband. He chose Ilya, he would always choose Ilya.
Eventually everything settled down, they were finally together, not in the fleeting moments in hotels, not hiding behind a friendship. They were out as a couple, two between few openly queer NHL players, the only couple of husbands to ever play together on the ice.
It felt unreal to Ilya, who had dreamed about flaunting their love to whoever they crossed path with, and now he could finally do it with the added bonus of living and playing with Shane fucking Holander, the second best player and his dear husband.
Shane still struggled with physical touch out on the streets, he sometimes jumped when Ilya took his hand out of the blue or when he kissed him, Shane had the habit of looking around, checking who was watching them. ‘Let them watch if they want. You're kissing the hottest man out here, they should be jealous’, Ilya joked around.
Still Shane’s safe zone had expanded, before he only ever felt completely comfortable at home, at his parents or at Hayden Pike’s house. Now, as long as they were inside somewhere, he didn’t even have a second thought about showing affection.
A big part of that step forward had to do with the Centaur players and staff, they had welcomed Shane with more than open arms, potentially under their captain’s threads. They made it clear that this was his new home and family. Their reaction was the total opposite of those of Montreal, and Shane finally completely understood how Ilya could feel so safe with them, after all, it was easy.
The team’s morale had been as high as ever, they had Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov, two generational players, they would be unstoppable. Since Shane had been in ‘changing time’ mode from all the compromising happening at home, he had rapidly adapted to other’s playstyle, their abilities and most importantly playing with, not against Rozanov.
Their rivalry still stood unharmed, they always challenged each other to the most points, to who was faster, who handled the stick better, but they both worked towards the same goal, not an opposing one.
They didn’t care about the few sports media outlets who still argued that their sexuality and relationship would affect their game, Hollander and Rozanov were playing some of the best Hockey of their lives and they knew it. Screw the idiots that allowed for this to happen.
It sometimes happened that they had so much fun playing that they entered their own little world, a state of flow where without thinking they felt exactly where the other was, what the other was thinking, what steps they needed for victory. Rozanov had argued with the team he was able to telepathically communicate with Hollander, the rookies actually, truly believed him.
Once Harris had marketed these moments as the ‘Hollanov flow’ on the team socials it had blown up, become viral and shut up most of the critics.
They became more famous, had more followers on their social media than ever before, more brand deals, more media attention reaching beyond the world of Hockey. They became the most iconic queer sports couple and were regularly recognised by more people on the streets.
Some of them had even admitted not knowing anything about hockey, they were just supporting some fellow queer people. It felt great to be for others what Scott Hunter had been for them, a sign of hope. Both Ilya and Shane had cried in each other's arms the night they realised.
Life was great, work was great, family was great, everything was great, and now they were working towards their new shared goal, the Stanley Cup. The first they would win together, the first for the Centaurs. They already had the perfect spot chosen for the new trophies and commemorative items on their trophy room’s shelves.
Honestly, they had all their chances, the team was on fire, they had some incredible games and were now considered a force to be reckoned with. Ilya had missed the feeling of blunt superiority and the seriousness, sometimes the slight hint of fright, opposing players had in their eyes when they faced him, Shane and their team.
Once more, they had done it, they won 7-1 against Montreal of all teams, and with this Shane had officially taken his hockey revenge, showing Montreal’s players and management how wrong they had been in pushing Shane away, not accepting him. Being homophobic would probably cost them the playoffs, they wouldn’t survive without Shane, he would make sure of it.
Shane had scored a hat trick, and assisted for two more scored by Ilya, the two last ones, including the last second winner, were scored by Troy Barret, for good measure. And since Rozanov really wouldn’t resist nagging the Metros’ players, he grabbed Hollander by his hand, bringing him to the middle of the ice, away from their celebrating team mates. He took off his and Shane's helmet, throwing them on the ice.
Shane, noticing what Ilya was doing, whispered ‘you really don’t have to do this’.
Ilya shook his head and said ‘I really do’, grabbed Shane's face and kissed him on live television. It may not have been after the Cup and it definitely wasn’t a coming out kiss like Hunter had done, but this was good enough too. At least until they actually won the Cup this season and could kiss there.
They heard the crowd roar and chant their names, it felt so incredibly liberating and empowering, especially after all those years hiding. Shane usually hated attention of any kind that was not about him playing, but now he couldn’t do without it. He would never hide anymore.
Wyad was the one interrupting their moment. ‘You did it again cap, you couldn't have let Barrett have his moment. Again. ‘Steel the thunder’ should be your middle name’, he said, putting an arm around each of them once they had split.
‘Hollzy! Are you ready to celebrate? And today none of the non drinking and bird food crap, right?’ His smile was so warm, Shane couldn’t say no to that.
‘I could use a drink’ he agreed. They made their way back to the back, ready to take off the sweaty gear and go under a good shower.
Shane liked to be like this, he lacked the precise wording to describe it but, he was not on edge anymore, he could laugh and be part of mischief, he didn’t fear anymore.
The others started fake fighting him and Troy, all laughing joyfully at the faces the opposing team had had on the ice, using up the last bits of adrenaline left in their bodies before the after game crash could hit them.
The locker room was in the best of spirits, it was loud and rowdy, yet Shane really appreciated how they welcomed his social awkwardness, they never laughed about him, only ever with him, and that meant the world.
With the spirits so high it took a minute for Shane to notice his crazy piece of a husband not there with them to start the celebrations. The whole team had spent so much of their energy plotting the revenge, Shane honestly thought they were more eager to do so than he was. Ilya was the first to always rail everyone up about beating Montreal and tonight they had knocked their chances to join the playoff to basically zero, Shane was ready to thoroughly reward his husband for it later in the night.
Turning around he saw Ilya sitting down on the bench half facing them and accepting a call, one he had been postponing for a while. Ilya’s phone had been ringing all day, a russian unknown number, but had wanted to focus on obliterating the other team so he had ignored it, much to Shane’s anxiety.
In a second Ilya became tense, his expression stoic and had gripped his phone so thight his knuckles turned white. Shane recognised that reaction, it was the one Ilya had when he was overwhelmed, when he started to close up and bottle up feelings. He knew what would follow, he would turn away from others, hunching down and leaning with his elbows on his knees. On cue, the big Russian turned into a ball of stress and nerves.
Without hesitation Shane stepped in, he wasn’t going to allow Ilya to spiral, so he lightly put his hand on the other man’s shoulder. And Fuck was he glad he did because Ilya’s eyes once he look back at him shined with vulnerability and pain, feelings he only ever let Shane see. The latter nodded in support. Yes, Ilya I’m here, I can and will help. Always.
A tiny part of him felt proud of himself, for once he would be there for his husband not the other way around. The rest of himself was concentrated on making sure Ilya would be safe.
With a sigh he nodded back accepting the help Shane was offering. With a quick ‘everybody zip it’, Shane sat down, his hand sliding down Ilya’s back. The team didn’t know about the Russian part of Ilya’s life, they knew about the homophobia and that he would ‘never be able to go back’, but Ilya had never felt the need to share about that family. For him it was a closed deal and he much preferred bragging about his new one with Shane, Yuna and David Hollander. Shane had respected that and on this topic kept it shut.
Ilya turned his phone on speaker, breathed once deeply in and out, then in russian told the person on the phone to repeat what they had said. He hesitated before he added “My husband is listening”
They had once talked about the Russian family’s reaction to the whole gay marriage thing, Ilya was convinced they would have cursed at him then thrown him out of the family. But since he had cut ties way before coming out they couldn’t know for sure.
“Your brother, Alexei, he is dead”, a woman’s voice rang through the phone. It sounded stern, not particularly affected by what it was saying. Shane didn’t know if the ‘russians are too strong for emotions’ or the lack of actual emotions was to blame. Either way, he shifted his free hand to hold Ilya’s free one.
“It’s Paulina, my step mother", Ilya whispered. His voice trembled. “How did he die?”
“Drug overdose. It’s been bad for a while, I guess it had to take him away eventually.” Some of the Centaurs were trying to ask what was happening but Shane waved them away with a flick of a hand before he continued to slowly caress Ilya's back again. He hoped it would feel somewhat comforting.
‘Thank you for telling me, but it’s not on me to give him a funeral, I don’t have anything to do with him anymore.’ Ilya had spitted out. Anger started to show through his stoic expression.
“Well, yes we know. But that’s not all. His wife, what was her name again?”
“Alina”
“Yes, her! She left. She left the children here at my home and never came back. It's been a week.”
The only thing Ilya managed to say was as strained “Fuck”, before his head fell onto Shane’s shoulder.
“The police managed to contact her, they say she has abandoned them. As per your brothers wish you have been made their legal guardian”, she sounded annoyed, tired maybe, it couldn’t have been an easy week for her.
Ilya’s head shot up, staring the phone down, as if it would suddenly reveal it had all been a bad nightmare or a hallucination.
Shane himself didn’t think it was true. Alexei, the brother who had always been described as ungrateful, cold, homophobic, a walking time bomb that took all and every opportunity to belittle and insult Ilya, had named his little brother, the one who had cut ties with him, as the legal guardian of his children. It really felt surreal, in all the bad ways.
“You are their guardian so I need your approval to send them away” Away? What did she mean?
“Where would they go?”, asked Shane in Russian. He felt Ilya melt back into his arms, his head into Shane’s neck turned away from the phone he was holding. Shane had never felt so glad to have learned Russian, it was a difficult language with a different alphabet and harsh pronunciation, it had taken its fair share of time and effort. It wasn't always gratifying, Ilya was the only person he ever talked to in russian too shy to try and talk to others and speaking english was faster either way.
Ilya’s English had become so extremely good, his vocabulary was immense, much to other players' downfall, as he created more intricate chirps and words so advanced some native speakers couldn’t follow. His written grammar and reading skills were also far better than before, not asking him so much when dealing with official documents. The only thing that remained was his accent, still as strong as ever, Shane was sure if Ilya had wanted to he could have gotten rid of it but for some obscure reason Ilya clung really tight to it and Shane actually loved it, so he hadn’t said anything.
The conclusion was that while Shane had reached a good level in Russian, they kept their talks mostly in English. At the end of the day, all the effort was worth it for Shane, seeing Ilya trust him enough to take over the call, unburden him of that russian talk, was worth all the studying on earth.
“Send them where?” Shane asked once his mind was back on the topic and had grabbed the phone from Ilya’s hands.
“To the orphanage”, Paulina said dryly. Ilya tensed up again.
“You can’t take them?”
“Who has the money for that? I don’t.” She scoffed. “Listen I really like the girls but I’m not stable enough to take them in, no one in the family is. So unless you have any other idea I’ll have to send them away and for that I need Ilya to agree."
Shane was at a loss for words. No one in the whole family was willing to take them in? So much so they had to somehow get hold of Ilya’s number, the man they hated, the nation hated, to do something about it.
Ilya looked up into Shane's eyes, the latter seeing a shine over them with emotion freshly written and raw. He understood.
“Can we have some time? We are not at home and it’s already late. We can call this number back tomorrow, is that alright?"
His Canadian politeness shined through even while speaking harsh russian, Ilya always made fun of that.
“Yes, that is okey. They can stay with me for a few days, maybe a week or so, but I’ll run out of funds quickly now that Alexei isn’t here anymore.”
With an unceremonious ‘good bye’, she ended the call, completely disregarding the bomb her call had caused. They both stood there frozen. Ilya overwhelmed with the whole ‘brother is dead and children are abandoned’ thing and Shane overwhelmed by the thoughts on how to help his husband through it. This definitely wasn’t in the how to be a 'good husband for noobs' book.
So Shane did what he could and held him in a tight hug, as tight as his sore muscles allowed. Ilya was still for a while and the team, who had been quiet the whole time, slowly started asking again for what was going on.
“Sweetheart, should we go out of here? Let’s go to the car, it will be quiet there.”
Shane knew the start of a downward spiral all too well. Before being outed and joining the Centours, it was usually him who felt them. He knew the team was trying to help but being surrounded by a loud crowd all staring and talking, was not the way out of it. So he offered Ilya both a way out of the spiral and the room.
“Yes, please”, Ilya replied, his voice a whisper. It pained him to see Ilya like this, he had been so happy the past few months, he looked so free of burdens and now it all came back, three times as bad and with the lives of two children on the line. Fuck, that was really going to be an issue.
Shane placed a kiss on top of Ilya's head before he detached himself from the hug. Quickly and quietly he packed up both of their stuff as they were changing out of their gear, they would shower at home. Taking on both of the bags Shane made his way through the locker room.
“Guys thanks for the worry but we are fine, we’ll deal with this. Feel free to enjoy the night”, he said to the team adding a small forced smile as they exited and managed to avoid the media. That honestly felt so far away now, so very insignificant to what news they had just received, they couldn’t care less if the media started talking shit about them running away.
They managed to reach the car, Shane taking the driver’s side, and in an instant Ilya jumped onto him, hugging him tight and whispering again and again ‘thank you’ in his ear. Shane hugged back and for a while they stayed like that.