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“Vso v poryadke, moya lyubov”
Shane has started drumming on the dashboard of Ilya´s 718 Spyder five minutes into the drive, and according to Google Maps, there are still twenty minutes left until they arrive at Bood´s. Shane really needs to relax.
Ilya threads the fingers of his free hand through those of his fiancé and draws little patterns against Shane´s skin with his thumb. “You´re okay. They will love you. Everything will be okay.” He reassures.
“I know I´m just- I´ve played for the Voyageurs my whole life. And now I have to start from scratch again. I´m just a bit stressed out. It´s fine.” Shane scrunches his nose, which is adorable to watch.
“I understand. They will all be nice, yes.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“They want to get along too. They want you to like them.” Ilya knows this for a fact. At their last game against each other, when Shane tripped and the hockey world lost its collective mind, ridiculing him like he´d done it on purpose, the Centaurs had been noticeably warm and welcoming towards Shane. And ever since then, every time Ilya brings him up, they seem to have nothing but nice things to say. They tease him, sure, but overall, it´s overwhelmingly positive. Almost uncharacteristically so, at least for any hockey team generally. Not that Ilya´s complaining.
Shane glances at him: “You think so?”
“Yes.” Ilya grins. “You are marrying captain of Centaur team. I am very popular.”
“Oh, so this is just about currying favor with you?” Shane asks, playing the drama in his voice up a little for comedic effect.
“Obviously.”
“Asshole.” Shane huffs, but Ilya can see he´s trying to hide a smile. Emphasis on trying to.
“Yes, but you love me.”
“I do.”
Ilya hums happily to himself. Actually, he can´t wait to have his team meet Shane. To call Shane his fiancé in front of other people and to not have to downplay how fucking in love he is. His heart feels so full it physically hurts to contain all of it some days.
They drive in comfortable silence for the rest of the way. Shane trying to relax and Ilya nudging him lovingly whenever he feels him tense up.
They pull up to Bood´s house fashionably late.
Ilya leans over and gives him an evaluative glance, like he´s on suicide watch or something.
“I´m okay.” Shane hears himself say. “Really, I´m ready to see everyone,” he side-eyes Ilya, “just don´t like, make it weird please.”
“What, me?” Ilya asks in mock offense. “Hollander, I do not know what you mean. I am very charming.”
“Sure you are.” Shane laughs as he reaches for the door handle. Before he can get out though, Ilya grabs him by the wrist and pulls him over the center console. In one swift motion, Ilya´s hands are cupped around his face and Shane is being kissed by his fiancé, softly, and with so much tenderness that the houses and streets and people outside the car melt away into a distant, alien reality. He reaches out for Ilya and allows himself a few moments of blissful ignorance before he pulls away slightly. Ilya´s lips chase after his.
They are still in front of Bood´s house. A house that is, presumably, already full of curious hockey players who happen to be his future teammates and whose first impression of the two of them together definitely shouldn´t be a make out session in Ilya´s car. Shane reclines a bit further, semi-settling back into his seat. Ilya is smiling at him, lovingly and completely unguarded, and he is reminded, once again, why he is changing teams and cities. Why he´s spent years carefully upholding what they have. There was still nothing in this world that compared to loving Ilya, to holding him and kissing him. To falling asleep next to him and waking up to the same. Even if Shane had known, right from the beginning, what this relationship would cost him, he´d still do it all again. He´d do so much more for if Ilya asked him.
Ilya´s still smiling, and Shane grins back at him. “Alright. I think I´m as ready as I´m ever going to get. Let´s do this.”
“Perfect.” The ridiculously hot Russian behind the wheel answers cheerfully.
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Harris has known for weeks now that Ilya was dating Shane Hollander. Hell, he´s met the guy on Zoom calls since his transfer to Ottawa is getting arranged, but now that Harris is sitting in the passenger seat of Troy´s car, the two of them on their way to what might very well turn out to be the biggest Bood barbecue yet, he realizes how much he actually want to meet Shane as Ilya´s boyfriend.
Especially throughout the last season, Harris had become increasingly worried about Ilya. The guy had seemed even more wrung out and downcast for the entire first half of the season than Harris had ever seen him, especially when the other players started talking about their girlfriends. More than once, he´d considered talking to Ilya and letting him know that he and the team were there for him, but Harris felt like that might have been out of line. He and Ilya got along great, but they were work friends. Plus, the guy was always walking a thin line between jokes and deeper conversation topics, and Harris did not trust his people-reading skills enough when it came to Rozanov to attempt sailing that ship. And besides, it wasn´t like he´d have been fully mentally present either, not when a very hot and very lost Troy Barrett kept showing up absolutely everywhere Harris was and could´ve hoped to talk to Ilya. Not that he has any regrets, seeing as he is very comfortably lounged in his boyfriend’s car, getting the passenger princess treatment, after they have spent most of their day in bed. Originally for a movie marathon – their tastes vary so much that they´d put together a thoroughly comprehensive list of movies to educate the other on. Except that you can only keep up with so much when making out. But who could blame Harris? Certainly nobody who´s seen his boyfriend, that’s for sure.
They arrive at a nearly packed house. One after the other, every player on Ottawa´s team is slowly filtering in through the big front door, each with their respective partners.
“Seems like they all got Ilya´s text.” Troy scans the crowd. From him, Harris has learned that Ilya sent a heads-up to the group chat that he was bringing somebody along with him. The whole mysterious act is a bit superfluous (they´ve all watched the FanMail video – and the Instagram announcement), but Harris is happy to indulge Ilya. Secretly, Harris thinks, he is probably bursting at the seams with joy. Occasionally, he´s observed how longingly Ilya watched at these barbecue things, when the couples started huddling against each other and looking blatantly blissful and in love. The guy has more than earned his share of that.
“You made it.”, Bood is coming towards them, beer in one hand and grinning at them broadly, “Rozy isn´t here yet. Probably biding his time so he can make a grand spectacle out of showing off his man. Fucking prima donna.” He´s still smiling.
“Yeah, as if we´d miss that.” Troy gives him a quick hug. “It´s kind of insane that you´re even hosting this thing man. Didn´t you become a dad like last week?” They both look Bood up and down. He seems okay, aside from the dark circles under his eyes and the way his fingers restlessly travel up and down the beer bottle he´s holding. Okay, maybe he´s a little on edge.
“Two weeks now. But yeah, it´s been – something. I can´t even tell you honestly.” Bood trails off, absent-mindedly scratching the back of his head. “I mean I love the girl so fucking much and I can´t wait to take her out on the ice once her feet get to a size they actually manufacture in skates… a baby just sets your whole fucking home life on fire y´know.”
“You only figuring that out now?” Troy chuckles, then adds: “Seriously though, I´m sure you´ll be a great dad to her.” He glances over at Harris.
“Probably the best of all of them.” Harris makes an indicative motion with his head towards the other players, who are currently crowding the open concept living room of Bood´s house. “Don´t tell them I said that though.”
Bood smiles. “Nah, don’t worry. You´re good. And for what it´s worth, I feel like we kinda owe it to Rozy to not just keep on meeting his boyfriend – fiancé – on the ice. Wouldn´t be right.”
He and Troy nod. God, Harris loves this team so much.
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Ilya strides in with the largest, most obnoxiously sappy grin Troy has ever seen on him. Hollander is following a few steps behind him.
“Everyone! Meet my fiancé. His name is Shane, you´ve probably never heard of him before.”
“Asshole.”
“Who, me?” Roz asks innocently.
“Nah, what do you mean? I´m talking to that other guy I´m engaged to.”
“So does that mean we´re breaking the no threesome rule?” Ilya is bouncing on his heels happily. Wow, that derailed quickly.
“Jesus, it´s like we´re not even here or what?” Wyatt calls out, apparently riding Troy´s exact same train of thought.
“Sorry guys. Hi, it´s really nice to meet all of you.” Shane seems very flustered now that he´s realized how many eyes are on them. He clears his throat. “Like, officially.”
“Always good to see you, Hollander. Shane.” Wyatt corrects himself. He grins and pulls Shane in for a hug.
Shane visibly lets go of some tension he must have been holding in. “Good to see you too Wyatt.”
“Hey, Rozy is here.” Bood calls out to the other guys before zeroing in on Ilya. “Had to have your moment, huh?” He jokes.
Ilya laughs. “You have all had your moments for years. Is only fair that I match, yes?”
“Damn right.” And Troy could have sworn that Bood has an almost proud look on his face. Then he switches partners over to Shane, who´s making small talk with Wyatt and Nick.
“So, you´re the guy who´s got Roz glued to his phone all the fucking time?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Sorry about that.” Shane laughs, awkward but sincere, which is a cute combination and very much unlike Rozanov. It´s kind of fascinating.
Holy shit, it actually is THE Shane Hollander trailing behind Ilya into Bood´s house.
Obviously, Luca has met the guy on the ice, more than once even, but that´s a very different story. On the ice, they are Hollander and Haas, professional hockey players of whom an almost default animosity towards the other is expected, at least for the duration of their games. Not Luca and Shane. Rationally, he knows he doesn´t personally have to face Shane, and if anything, this was probably a higher stakes situation for the other guy. But only a few years ago, Luca had gone to sleep every night with an absurdly large Ilya Rozanov poster on his wall and binge watched highlight reels of both their scores and now, he is standing in front of the two best hockey players in the NHL, who are somehow a thing – which is still a bit mind boggling to Luca, and somehow he´s expected to be casual about it. His fan-boy days are not far enough back in time for that, and he is suddenly very acutely aware of them again, like that thing you randomly find again after months of losing your mind looking for it. The same way he had been when he´d first met Ilya.
Okay, time to get it together.
Most guys are through with the introductions now, a small crowd has formed in Bood´s foyer, with Ilya and Shane right at the center, accepting compliments and happily laughing off the teasing comments. Maybe he can discreetly weave himself into the group. He could do that. Yeah, he could definitely do that. He forces his legs to move, striding, as casually as possible, towards the crowd. Then he cops out.
This is going amazing. Not even ten minutes into the door and already there is that familiar buzz of his team, getting together and joking and not worrying about hockey for long enough to feel like these were actual friendships, unrelated to any professional strings.
Ilya has always appreciated the effort Bood made with these barbecues, but more often than not, he had been miserable at them. Miserable and alone or not even in attendance. Now he is here though, and he´s never been happier to not skip out on this. He can almost physically feel how good it is to finally be here with Shane.
He´s talked to his therapist about it and has come to the realization that part of him needs this, but just how big that part is he has wildly underestimated.
Thankfully, Shane seems to be relatively comfortable being the center of attention, for now at least. Ilya has his left arm on Shane´s waist in the hopes of the contact mentally steadying him, even if only slightly. It also just feels really fucking powerful to get to touch Shane like this. In public, casually. Signaling to everybody that Shane is his and Ilya belongs to him just the same, like it´s no big deal.
Ilya closes the space between them even further and finds himself surprised by how eager he is to touch Shane, his waist, his shoulders, his hands, just because he can. He collects himself. He has all evening to admire and show off his fiancé, and all night for everything else.
The first guys have started to dispense back into the kitchen and patio now that the initial magic of the show is slowly coming to an end, everyone having met Shane. Wyatt is chatting with Ilya about something vaguely marriage related that Troy has no real interest in following. Instead, he lets himself get absorbed into a group setting of Bood, Shane and Dykstra. They are jokingly comparing coach experiences when Tanner comes back with a new beer in hand.
“Gotta say, Rozy, you really weren´t kidding.”
He turns to Shane: “He was bragging about you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Like non-stop since the video aired.” Suddenly, Tanner looks around a bit panicked. “Wait, shit, am I supposed to not be mentioning that?”
“It´s all good. We talked to Hayden about it. No bad blood whatsoever.” Shane waves off.
From the corner of his eye, Troy can see that Ilya is observing the exchange, and Shane, with a noticeably smug look on his face. Yeah, he definitely knows just how hot his boyfriend is.
“Alright, before we´re all gonna grow older than Scott Hunter,” Bood intervenes, “Shane Hollander, would you like a tour of the house?”
“He´s being polite. All Bood really wants to show you is the patio and grill. They´re like his children.” Dykstra jokes.
“Hey, fuck you Evan, I happen to have a daughter.”
Shane laughs. “I´d love a tour, thanks.”
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“Anybody want another round?” Dykstra asks as he´s making his way into the kitchen to resupply the group with more beers. A few people take him up on the offer.
Almost half the team is situated around the big fire pit on Bood´s patio, sprawled out across couches and garden chairs. Boyle, Wyatt and Nick are arguing about something and Bood has his grill moved closer to the group, chiming in occasionally.
It´s nice. Scratch that, it´s fucking incredible. Mostly because Shane is sitting next to him, with a hand on Ilya´s thigh, and Ilya can lean over and give his fiancé a kiss whenever he feels like it. He could really get used to this.
Shane and Luca are talking, something boring about offensive and trick shots.
Actually, wait.
Is Shane teaching Luca Ilya´s trick right now?? The one that he secretly practiced and blatantly stole from Ilya???
“And then in the last second, you do a forehand wrist shot over the goalie’s shoulder. Works like a charm.”
Yep, it’s the very same. Alright, Ilya absolutely can´t just let that happen.
“Hollander, why are you teaching other people my trick? The one that you stole?? Is bad enough you know it.”
“I didn´t steal shit, you don´t own a trick, Ilya. Besides, you can have all the credit.” Shane turns to Luca. “He thought of it.” He nudges his head in Ilya´s direction.
“See.” He says to Ilya, who looks at him with what he is sure is a begrudging face.
Shane turns back to Luca and whispers: “I perfected it though.”
“I heard that.” The insolence, unbelievable.
Luca is looking back and forth between them, grinning like an idiot. “You guys are so cute.” He blurts out, and then he turns red like a tomato. Ilya has to smile.
It was very adorable how shy the kid had been about approaching them at first. He knows how easily Luca can get flustered, but the combined presence of Shane and him seems to have quadrupled the effect or something. Only when the welcome committee had broken apart earlier and they made their way towards the patio had Luca introduced himself. From the looks of it, he had probably been standing around awkwardly in the entrance hall.
He had been flustered and stammering so much that Ilya almost felt bad for leaving him hanging so long. Then, he pulled him in for a hug, which Luca´s nervous system seemed to have taken as a sign to relax. The kid was really cute.
“Sorry, really not my place.” Luca stammers. He is looking at the ground like a child being reprimanded.
“No, you are right. Shane and I are great couple.” Ilya grins at him.
“Yeah, totally. You guys are awesome.” Luca nods quickly.
"And great hockey players."
"Yeah, you´re the best in the league."
“And we will be great dads too.” He should probably stop, but he´s kind of curious to see how long he can ride the Haas wave of guilt.
“For sure. That´ll be one lucky kid.”
“Ilya-“ Shane nudges him, and Ilya gets an idea.
“Shane, can we keep him?”
“What?” Both Shane and Luca stare at him in confusion. Ilya wishes he had his phone in hand. This is too good.
“Like adoption.” He says, the sarcasm in his voice clearly not dawning on either one of them.
“Excuse you, I´m a fully grown man.”
Ilya ignores him. “He can sleep in one of the guest rooms. Will be like practice kid.”
He turns to Luca. “You basically have same skill set as a toddler.”
“Fuck off, I do not.”
“Roz,” Bood calls over from his dad-of-the-team grill post, “what are you terrorizing Haas for again?”
“Nothing.” Ilya responds, raising his hands in the air to prove his innocence.
“Leave the kid alone, would you?”
“Apropos kid, when do I get to meet your daughter, Bood?”
“Oh, shit you´re right, you haven´t even met Mila yet. Wait, let me get her from Cassie.” Bood abruptly leaves his post to wander over to where his wife Cassie is sitting with two other women. One, Ilya recognizes as Lisa, Wyatts wife. One, he doesn´t know.
Shane shifts closer then and nuzzles his head in the dip between Ilya´s neck and shoulder. A comfortable silence lingers as they watch the flame bend into indecipherable little shapes across the fire pit. This is almost like back at the cottage, Ilya thinks.
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“Incoming.” Bood warns as he lowers his daughter, Mila, into Ilya´s arms. The girl can´t be more than a few weeks old. She´s wrapped up in a dark red blanket with her hair hiding under a matching beanie. Her face is tiny and scrunched up. She looks adorable and miniature in Ilya´s arms.
“Bood, she is so cute.” Ilya exclaims. His entire face lights up as he cradles her carefully against his chest. “Probably your wife´s genetics.”
“Charming as always, Roz.” Bood huffs and Ilya winks at him. Then he turns his attention back to the baby, gently rocking her back and forth in his arms, completely focused on her incoherent babbling.
A grin is threatening to split Ilya´s face in two. It´s such a beautiful, simple scene and Shane vows to commit it to memory as lifelike and detailed as he can.
Sometimes it still blows his mind how someone with such deep childhood wounds could love kids so much. Or maybe it was because of that? Shane would have to research on the phycological logistics of that later.
Later. A word which has gone from being a painful reminder to something wonderfully casual. Because later no longer means days or even weeks apart. Later has started being reserved for menial, normal things. Now that they have the time.
The conversation starts to move on around them. Wyatt is saying something about deep sea mining and oil spills, which he apparently has extensive opinions on (so Hazy is a secret marine activist, noted), but Shane just can´t get himself to take his eyes off his fiancé.
Ilya doesn´t seem to be noticing much of what is transpiring around him. He´s still holding Bood´s daughter, who has her left hand wrapped around Ilya´s pinky. He lets her fall back asleep like this while his gaze trails off into the distance absent-mindedly.
“Shane, nam nuzhen rebonok.” Shane smiles. He knows enough Russian to understand what that means.
“I know. Someday, we will have one.” He promises and hopes Ilya understands just how much he means it. Right now isn´t the time, career-wise, but Shane has definitely been taking his own private creative liberties with the idea, more than once.
"Probably two." Ilya smiles.
A near deafening laughter erupts from the group suddenly, snapping Shane back to the patio and his (almost) new teammates. Evan (was it?) is in the middle of telling a story. Shane hears him drop the word Mexico somewhere along the lines, ‘probably travel related’ he thinks to himself. A few seconds later, another cry joins the avalanche of voices. Mila has woken back up, apparently not so happy with the general entertainment skills.
Before Bood can sweep in for a quick rescue though, Ilya is hoisting the girl high up in the air, swaying her from side to side.
“We´re good here.” Ilya informs. “We are playing airplane, see.” To prove his point, he lets her “fly” through the air dramatically, gently bringing her down and back up. This earns him a very cute, little giggle from inside the red blanket.
Ilya is laughing. With his head thrown back he is laughing as he entertains the girl and Shane´s heart is physically melting away in his body. Spreading across his limbs until his heartbeat is practically visible through his skin. This right here would seriously be the end of him.
It feels almost unfair how much he loves Ilya, like he is sucking all the emotion out of the world around him and hoarding them just for this man. This man who is so smart and funny and thoughtful and gorgeous, and his.
Ilya is smiling at him then, and Shane hopes he has the emotional composure to smile back and not just stare at his fiancé dumbfounded like some love-struck idiot. He is that idiot though. He hopes he´ll never not be that idiot.
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“Alright,” Wyatt announces, “I´ve held back for long enough. Y´all better be ready to answer some questions now.”
“Ehm…” Shane seems a bit unsure of what to do.
“Consider it an initiation ritual.” Troy offers. He is sitting next to Harris, his chin propped up on Harris´s shoulder.
“What´d you got Hazy?” Ilya calls out, his arm tying loosely around Shane´s shoulder and chest.
“Wow, okay. Really expected more of a pushback there.” He pauses for a second. “How long exactly has this thing between you been going on for? I´m really not judging,” he adds, “I´d just love a bit more context.”
THANK GOD.
Harris really hasn´t wanted to be a gossip. He´s been on a very strict, self-imposed Hollanov-conversation-topic time out just to be sure. The private lives of his colleagues really aren´t his business, this is a philosophy he has lived his professional life by. Working with high-profile athletes calls for discretion, and the respect of those athletes demands trust and privacy from him. Private Harris might enjoy the occasional drama. Social media manager Harris does not. The problem with these barbecues is that the lines between the two always gets more blurry as the night progresses.
Right about now, it threatens to dissolve altogether. Wyatt´s curiosity can´t have been any less than God sent.
“Thank you for asking the questions we´ve all been thinking Hayes.” Boyle chimes in.
Ilya grins profusely, “I didn´t know you were all so interested in my dating life.” He looks over at Shane, who nods almost imperceptibly. “We have been together for many years. Shane has been my boyfriend for the last three years, but we were something,” his hand waves vaguely through the air, “for long time before that.”
“What like- casual dating?” Chouniard jokes.
“Casual, yes. Dating, not so much.”
“Wait, so you´re telling us” Troy starts.
“Was convenient.” Ilya cuts him off, “Before it got complicated.” He smiles at Shane mischievously.
“Don´t wanna burst your bubble there Roz, but wasn´t it always complicated?” Bood is participating in the conversation again, the grill temporarily forgotten.
“Yeah, I mean you got the rivalry.”
“And the NHL´s attitude towards homosexuality.” Harris throws out there.
“And Russia.” Wyatt adds.
Ilya waves off, “Yes, yes. Stupid Russian laws.”
“I mean, it always was complicated,” Shane gets back to Bood, “at some point there just started being more layers to it, I guess.”
“Yes, that.”
“And when you say long time…” Boyle presses.
“He means eleven years, give or take.” Shane says matter-of-factly.
“Holy shit.” Troy mutters.
Wyatt joins in, “Isn´t that like the duration of your entire careers?”
“Yes.”
“Damn Hollander, didn´t know you had it in you.” Bood chirps at Shane.
Some of the guys are ribbing them playfully now, but other than just the initial shock they seem to be blissfully unbothered. Sure, over the last half hour he and Ilya have been subjected to endless rounds of guessing games about the timeline of their relationship, and their family planning in the pet department (Harris really seems to be eager to push some of those stray dogs of his onto them), but none of it has any kind of sharp, disgusted edge to it. Just a bunch of decent, reasonably nosy guys.
He nurses his beer distractedly. Even though he not big on drinking, he enjoys the soothing steadiness of something solid for his hands to travel over and calm themselves. And up until recently, that something couldn´t be Ilya. Shane´s still making the switch.
His free hand is grazing over Ilya´s arm every now and then, getting more and more comfortable with the obvious PDA.
Shane allows himself to take in some of his new team more carefully.
Bood and Tanner are Ilya´s linemates, this much he knows. Both married and from what Shane could gather so far, they seem to be pretty good husbands (and fathers). The energy Bood radiates reminds him a little of JJ, loud, warm, social and charismatic. He can see why the guy is Ilya´s alternate captain. On Tanner, he has less of a grip, but he has been relatively laid back all evening. Noticeably less gossipy than the rest of the group too. That one was a relief. Shane gets why people are so invested in the details of their relationship, it´s completely absurd that they even are in one, but he´s also allowed other people´s possible reactions to limit and scare him for years. Not being pressed on the matter is nice.
His gaze travels over to Troy and Harris. Ilya has fawned over their relationship developments for the better half of this season now. Shane knows that seeing them together has to feel at least partially like Ilya´s own little victory. Although the man would never admit it in a thousand years, he suspects that Ilya secretly loves playing gay matchmaker. And Troy and Harris don´t seem to mind. Even with all the allyship in the world, Shane thinks to himself, actually having another happy, affectionate, gay couple at the function is something irreplaceable.
He keeps scanning the group. On Evan, Boyle, Nick, Holmberg and Young, he hasn´t gathered a lot yet. They´re a brazen, quick, direct and yeah, occasionally funny bunch, and they have all been super supportive.
Luca on the other hand is incredibly shy, so much so that Shane has basically nothing on him except his love for hockey and how much he adores Ilya, which is like a ridiculous amount. Maybe Shane would even be a little jealous if Luca wasn´t basically a kid.
And then there´s Wyatt. The two have known each other ever since Ilya got him aboard for their hockey camps. Shane really likes the guy. He´s observant and kind, even if he is very interested in everybody´s business. Lucky for him it´s pretty endearing.
Apropos Wyatt, he´s been noticeably quiet for a few minutes now.
Although, come to think of it, he looks like he´s about to say something.
“Okay, since we´ve already established that we´re all nosy and shameless here, I kinda wanna know … who asked?” Wyatt gestures with his head towards Ilya´s and Shane´s laps, or more accurately, the hands resting there, each adorned with a black wedding-band on their ring-fingers. “Y´know who got down on one knee?”
Shane sets his beer down on the coffee table “I did.”
Ilya didn´t miss a beat. “Usually he gets on both.”
“TMI MAN, JESUS!!” Wyatt complains, just as Shane mutters: “Fuck you.” His entire face is flushed, and he looks like he wants to disappear into the ground. It´s baffling how he and Rozanov work so well. Except apparently, they do. And the whole banter thing really is kind of cute and very on brand for Ilya, Harris has to admit.
“Aww our captain got proposed to.” Boyle whistles and Ilya grins so hard it almost splits his face in half.
“Yes, was amazing. Breathtaking. You would all be jealous if you could have seen. Candles everywhere in my living room.”
“They were electric.” Shane cuts in, as if anyone even thought to worry about the candles. There´s that notoriously textbook type-A Hollander.
“So, when´s the wedding gonna be?” Bood interrupts Harris´s train of thought while he flips another round of ribs on the grill.
“July 12th. At our house.”
“Hold on a sec- you´re kidding right?” Wyatt stares at him.
Bood chimes in: “Dude, that´s in a fucking month.”
“Yeah, we wanted to do it in the summer before hockey camp starts again.” Shane tries to explain.
“But didn´t you only get engaged like, what, two months ago.” Troy´s expression is a mirror of Harris´s exact same confusion.
“January.” Ilya supplies.
“How have you even had the time to like plan anything?”
“Doesn´t need big plan, just- us.” He looks fondly at Shane.
“Cassie would´ve fucking killed me if I tried to pull that.” Bood is shaking his head and looking over to where his wife is sitting with two other WAGs, cradling their newborn in her arms.
“For real though.” Wyatt interjects, visibly struggling to wrap his head around this. “It´s the iconic Rozanov-Hollander wedding and you´re just casually throwing it with a month in advance on the RSVPs? And it´s supposed to be happening where? In your fucking living room?”
“Backyard.”
“Seriously Roz?” Troy double checks.
“Yes, is no big deal. We want small party, just us and people we care about.” He takes a sip of his beer, “You´re all invited. Obviously.”
“Fuck Rozy you´re going soft on us.” Bood gives Ilya a light shove against the shoulder and the Centaur captain smiles to himself so earnestly it almost hurts to watch. Oh yeah, he´s in deep, and Harris couldn´t be happier for him.
“Besides, honeymoon is much more important, yes? Scott Hunter gave us tips for super gay places.”
“Scott Hunter?” Boyle asks.
“He is good friend.”
“He came to our place the other day. Recruited us for a club he´s starting. Like an organization of progressive hockey players.”
“Like avengers.” Ilya laughs. “Will force Crowell to go big or go home with his shit opinions.”
“Wait,” Alarm bells are flying off the rails in the social-media-manager part of Harris´s brain, “holy shit Ilya, don´t tell he you´re making an enemy out of Crowell.”
“He had us benched! He wanted us back in closet! He made us enemy first.”
“Fuck-”
“Yes, he is asshole.”
“What else is new?” Troy says bitterly and Harris takes his hand in his own.
He has a feeling that this is going to produce a shit-ton of paperwork for him down the line. Honestly though, he´s fucking hated Crowell for threating Troy because he used his platform to speak up against abuse. And he´s hated the way the NHL reacted to the video of Ilya and Shane too, so if the future crises with upper management are his chance at queer activism within hockey, you could bet Harris is fucking in.
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Shane just wanted to go inside and grab a blanket, but now he is somehow part of a full-blown dissertation about the new Dune movie with Bood, Evan and Tanner. At least these guys have range.
Eventually, the conversation is coming to a close. Tanner retreats back to his wife´s side and Shane is more than ready to follow his suit. Well, he´ll be returning to Ilya, not Tanner´s wife. That would be stupid.
“Wait Hollander, you´re about to be a Centaur, right?” Evan rips Shane out of his thought process as he glances over at Ilya. “Roz kinda teasered that you were signing with us.”
“Yeah, I am. If everything goes well, anyway. Sorry, I hope it´s not gonna be weird to have a couple on the team.” Shane looks at them apologetically. “I know the Voyageurs definitely wouldn´t be cool with it.” They aren´t even cool with us being together at all. It shouldn´t still sting so much, he´s barely in any contact with his old team anymore, except for Hayden and JJ, but he all but considered them family for basically his entire career. He´d have thought that given some time, they would come around to it eventually. No such luck.
As if Bood has read his thoughts, he nudges Shane with his elbow. “Fuck them. You´re in Ottawa now. And we don´t care about that.”
“Yeah, that’s right! Unless you start distracting each other and playing like shit.” Evan jokes.
“Don´t worry. Wasn´t planning on it.” Shane smiles. He loves the casual, inviting atmosphere amongst the Centaurs. With the Voyageurs he always felt like their support was irrevocably entwined with his performance on the ice, and fuckups weren´t an option. He had liked the competitiveness, it mirrored his own, but he also never fully let himself settle into the group because of it.
Ottawa´s winning streak was brand new, yet from Ilya he knows that the team has always been like this with each other. It feels like everyone can step outside their roles on the ice. Even Ilya. Although they are still calling him captain.
“Let me add you to the group chat.” Bood is tipping something on his phone and then holding it out to Shane. “It usually explodes over the summer. Everyone is always sending updates about how much bigger their nieces and nephews and whatnots have gotten, and there´s like a thousand baby pics, so just feel free to turn off the notifications any time. It´ll be a good way to learn about the team though.”
“Oh yeah, right.” Shane enters his phone number into Bood´s contact info. “Thank you.” He pauses for just a second. “And not just for this. For your support. Just for everything, I guess.”
The two Centaurs smile. “Happy to do it.” Bood says.
“Honestly man, I haven´t seen Roz this relaxed and just like, happy, in a long time. You´re good for each other.” Evan adds.
Now it´s Shane´s turn to smile. “Yeah, um, thanks guys. That really means a lot.”
Bood snaps out of it first. “Alright before this get too fucking soppy here, I wanted to ask you something…
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Shane is hovering inside now, chatting with Bood and Dykstra, and Ilya uses the opportunity to whip out a cigarette. He´s mostly quit, but every once in a while, he just needs a hit of nicotine in his system. He´s tried the gum, but honestly it´s kind of disgusting, aside from the fact that it doesn´t last him long. And one thing he absolutely won´t do is resort to those stupid patches.
Ilya stops and smiles as he gets out the pack of cigarettes from his jeans pocket. For a moment, Troy doesn´t follow, but then he catches a glimpse of the front of the pack. Taped next to the warning label declaring that “smoking kills” is a little photo of what seems to be an angry looking Shane glaring into the camera. It´s kind of adorable, like a kitten trying to frown. Troy has to press his lips together to keep himself from grinning too hard. It´s only half working.
Ilya takes out a cigarette, balances it between his fingers and closes the pack. He mutters something to himself in Russian "Prosti menya, moya lyubov", and shoves the pack back into his pocket.
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It´s well past midnight.
Most of the party has fizzled out by now. Wyatt, Harris and Troy are inside, washing the pile of dishes that accumulated on the kitchen isle over the last few hours. Bood has gone upstairs to help Cassie put their daughter to bed, and the three of them started cleaning up in wordless unanimity.
From here, Wyatt can see right onto Bood´s fancy patio where two high-profile hockey players are sitting huddled together on one of the outdoor couches. Ilya has his eyes closed and head rested on Hollanders shoulder. Their hands are entwined in their laps and Shane traces shapes in the inside of Ilya´s palm. Wyatt laughs quietly to himself. He, like all the rest of the world, or at least North America, has seen the clip of the two when Hayden Pike accidentally outed them via his FanMail video. He´s had his time to wrap his head around the idea of them. Not in any homophobic way, just – logistically. But the sight of them in person, completely unguarded and in love, is something else. It´s undeniably affectionate and tender in a way that Hayes hadn´t expected from his captain. Roz had really been holding out on them.
“The fact that Roz doesn´t even make any attempt at hiding how whipped he is.” Wyatt turns around to see Troy staring in the same direction as him.
“Yeah. I mean he probably wanted to bring him around for a long time.” Wyatt´s thoughts trail off. “Actually kinda hurts to think that he didn´t feel like he could tell us.”
“From the looks of it, I´m pretty sure he wanted to. But there is always a certain risk in coming out to people, even those you trust. It´s not just him it would´ve effected.” Harris consoles him.
“Jesus I just keep thinking about it. Eleven years man.” Troy chimes in.
“Hm,” Wyatt agrees, “I think that´d actually kill me.”
“Same here.” Harris says.
“And I thought my situationship years were bad.” Troy mutters.
“Yeah, well. It´s not like we didn´t know Roz had stamina.”
“Nope, I really don´t need to think any closer about Rozanov´s stamina.” Harris shakes his head exaggeratingly and turns back towards the sink. Troy follows to assist his boyfriend.
Outside, Ilya wraps a blanket around himself and Shane and kisses him on the temple. Wyatt smiles as he thinks back to the way Ilya´s face beamed when he walked in with Shane. His captain is expert at faking a good mood when he needs to, Wyatt knows that, but that smile had been the realest thing he´s ever seen dawning on Ilya´s face. He´s happy for him. They´re good for each other, anybody could see that. And Wyatt suspects that whatever demons Ilya has been struggling with, because there was definitely something there (Wyatt is perceptive enough to notice that, he isn´t a goalie for nothing), Shane will be there to help him through it as best as he can. He probably already is.
Without the light of the fire pit, it´s getting dark out on the patio. Ilya hunches a bit closer to his fiancé, if that´s even physically possible, and lets his breathing fall in tune with Shane´s.
Above their heads, a few constellations have crystallized against the night sky. I could fall asleep just like this, Ilya thinks to himself. He wants to get home though, to their house. Sleep in their bed and go on a walk with Anya in their neighborhood. Casual stuff, and yet, anything but ordinary.
Beyond the light from inside the house, spilling through the windowpanes, the night is enveloping them in blissful darkness. Ilya used to resent that a bit. It had been a consttant reminder of the ways he couldn´t be with Shane, not during the light of day. And it had been the darker parts of night that accompanied him whenever he fell into particularly bad depressive episodes. It´s gotten easier though, these past few weeks. Not that he´s fixed, but the weight that presses down on him is gradually moving towards lighter, more bearable dimensions. So much so, he´s almost grown fond of that period of intense dark blue sky, right after sunset. And the progression that follows.
Because now, the dark no longer indicates permission to kiss Shane outside, at the dock of their cottage, and care for him the way he actually does. Now, the dark just announces nightfall.