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romance is a science and shane hollander has never been a scientist

Summary:

shane wonders if he's a broken human being just because he may be experiencing love and lust in all the wrong ways. hayden is here to tell him he's not.

Notes:

okay, a couple of things to note before reading:

• this oneshot can be placed anywhere on the timeline before the tuna melt and cottage.

• it's mostly about the way shane experiences and navigates love as an autistic person. author is autistic so this is mostly based off own experiences.

• unfortunately i could give a rats ass about hockey as a sport and for this reason there are not a lot of hockey references so i hope the shit i wrote is SOMEWHAT accurate.

• lastly. MY GOD MY PHONE WOULD ABSOLUTELY NOT LET ME ADD NON EXISTENT TAGS LIKE MY ENTER BUTTON WAS COMPLETELY GONE AND THE COMMAS WOULDN'T WORK. so that's why instead of adding the (apparently non existent) tag "yearning" i added the fuckass (admittedly very lovely) jeff buckley song and hoped the message would come across. IT'S NOT BASED ON THE SONG WHATSOEVER. this fic has NOTHING to do with the song. IT'S ABOUT YEARNING. might change the tags one day if i remember. for now, please excuse my very frustrated 4 am rant.

 

i'm pretty proud of this fic though. even if it's short, i feel like it's the best i've written in a while. poured my blood sweat and tears into these ~2500 words. hope you enjoy it all <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The tv in the dim hotel room is playing a random MHL game, but neither Shane or Hayden are paying attention. Hayden is texting Jackie, Shane is sure, the man is blushing and smiling and if he were a high school girl he'd be kicking his feet. Shane is scrolling on his phone through countless media posts about hockey, none of which will stand out to him at that time and will be forgotten as soon as he scrolls to the next. He's got nothing else to do at that moment, he's already done reading his book (which he only bought a week ago) about the history of hockey in Europe. He'd have to buy another one soon.

They'd just finished a game against the New York Admirals and won 5 - 3. Shane didn't really feel like going to the afterparty. His head had been aching the entire day already and it was only getting worse, feeling uneasy in his own skin and bones and the light was too bright and the noises felt loud and… None. Of. It. Was. Right. Hayden went back to the hotel with him, to make sure he'd be okay. He had a wife after all, so all he'd be doing is getting drunk and being loud anyway. It's no fun, he'd said once. Shane had no idea why getting laid would make parties any more fun, but alas.

He knows he should be out there partying with his team like crazy though. He knows he should, he's the captain after all, but he really doesn't want to risk a possible migraine getting worse by mandatory drinking out of politeness at some bar with flickering lights and screaming people because the music is so insanely loud you can barely hear the other you're talking to. No, thanks, sounds like hell.

He's already showered and dressed in his sweats and has thrown on a random blue t-shirt. Hair still a bit wet and messy. Painkillers taken and slowly starting to work their way through his body. He's ready for bed. It would be so easy to turn off the lights and go to sleep. Of course, a certain Russian has to interrupt his peaceful plan of drifting off to Neverland.

Lily: good game tonight. you destroyed dinosaur.

Shane automatically finds himself grinning a little at the message on his screen, though the joke doesn't really land in his painkiller-induced slower working brain. He doesn't mind losing a bit of sleep over Rozanov though, not right now anyway, so he texts back. What else is he going to do instead, keep scrolling? Yeah, he'd prefer talking to Rozanov, his number one rival in hockey and the hottest guy he has ever fooled around with. It feels so silly, but he can't help it.

Shane: yeah we did.

Shane thinks of Rozanov as he stares at the texts on his phone screen. He mostly thinks of his arms, but not really in a sexual way. Right now, feeling as awful and exhausted as he does, he really feels like he could crawl into bed next to him and have Rozanov's arms wrapped tightly around his body. The Russian doesn't know his own strength sometimes, but that's okay. Shane likes the pressure. Shane wants to cuddle up to him and just be held. Shane wants to put his head on his shoulder. Shane wants to tangle their legs together. Shane wants to be as close to Rozanov as possible. He wants them to mold together as one and never let go. He wants a quiet night. Just the two of them, sitting there watching tv. Shane wants, and wants, and wants, and wants. He wants to be in his arms and feel the pressure of the world being taken off his shoulders, to exist in the time and space of right this moment and to be loved. It's selfish, yet so tempting.

Shane isn't so sure how to label his feelings towards Rozanov. In the movies, they always talk about this overwhelming feeling of butterflies in their stomachs, also during sex. In high school, Shane had heard a girl talk about a knot forming in her throat, so overwhelmed by love that she could fall apart whenever her partner was showing her love in whatever language they'd speak. Shane's mother had once described the warmth in his father's eyes whenever they smiled at each other. Shane felt like he couldn't get the grasp on these feelings and physical stimulations. Everytime he'd be in a relationship or having sex, he thought he was going to get there eventually but he could never really reach the feeling of butterflies, of being overwhelmed by love. He tried so hard to find the warmth in his partner's eyes, he'd stare at them for days. He'd feel like a sailor watching in the distance through his binoculars, trying to look for land, but never actually arriving there.

It can't be love if he doesn't feel butterflies or knots or can't recognise that warmth in someone's eyes. Maybe he still needs to find the one. Rozanov surely can't be the one. He isn't experiencing that feeling that everyone seems to be describing as this overwhelming hot desire. He knows he finds the man handsome and he likes the sex. He just doesn't know if it could be… terrifyingly more than that.

"What are you thinking about buddy?" Hayden shakes him out of his thoughts.

Shane doesn't look him in the eyes, anxious that if he does, Hayden might know exactly what's going on. "Nothing. It's something stupid."

But Hayden knows his best friend better than that. "You've been awfully quiet all night. What's on your mind, man?"

Shane can lie and say that the migraine has gotten worse since they arrived at the hotel. He can complain about the post-game exhaustion seeping into his bones. He can explain to Hayden that it's the painkillers making him a little fatigued and that he's going to sleep soon. He can do any of those options, but he's horrified by the weight on his chest that will probably kill him in his sleep by sinking through his skin, his muscles, his ribs, his insides, his back, muscles again, flesh ripping apart, maybe it goes through the mattress and hides below the bed until someone finds it in this dingy hotel room years later. Hey, look everybody, Canada's Golden Boy Shane Hollander had crazy freaky intense gay sex with his hot Russian rival Ilya Rozanov.

Shane feels Hayden's eyes on him, probably performing a brain scan as Shane himself is still anxiously debating (overthinking, really) on what he should tell him. In that moment, it feels like the weight he's carrying can't be carried any second longer. It pushes mockingly on his chest. His breathing gets heavier, as if it gets harder, though it's subtle and he doesn't really notice at first. It hesitatingly hitches a couple of times. He brings his knees closer to his chest and wraps one arm around his stomach, hand stroking up and down his side repetitively in a self-soothing manner. His phone is in his other hand, still on, texts staring back at him as if they're trying to burn themselves into his brain. The next one comes in, like magic from a thousand miles away.

Lily: you are not at party after, no?

Shane feels a knot in his throat. The bad kind.

"Can you describe to me how you feel love?" He blurts out.

Immediately he wishes he can take it back. It's so off and random. What will Hayden even think? Now, Shane feels like the high school girl.

To Shane's surprise though, Hayden is sympathetic. "Oh Shane, buddy, what girl has got you so up in your head?"

It doesn't sound mocking. Hayden's voice is calm and he's asking Shane for clarification. Surely, this means that Hayden may be up for a conversation like this? It's getting late, close to eleven, but all the signs in the universe seem to point to having this conversation now. Who knows when this opportunity will come up again?

That's when the dam breaks.

"All my life, Hayd, I've been trying so fucking hard to understand what it feels like. It's so- it's so fucking lonely." Shane's voice breaks a little. He turns his phone off and puts it down on the mattress. He runs a hand through his recently conditioned hair, accidentally pulling a bit. He shuts his eyes, afraid that the world around him may absorb him entirely while he talks. "The movies explain feelings I don't feel, some people have physical reactions that I've never experienced and some people even say they can see some kind of warmth in their partners eyes. I've never had any of that, even if I really do love my- my girlfriends when I'm in a… relationship. And I feel things while I have sex. I just don't think it's love because everyone describes it as this- this huge thing that is a very big deal and sometimes I feel like I'm almost there and then I can't reach it. I almost feel it and then I just don't," Shane groans softly. "what the fuck is wrong with me, Hayd?"

He doesn't dare to open his eyes. He does absolutely not want to face Hayden right now. The immediate disgust and guilt settles into his head and they yell at him and mock him and tell him he has said way too much. He's a burden, it woulrd've been better if the weight had crushed him and killed him on the spot. At least he wouldn't have had to deal with the shame after the world finds out about Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov and the inevitable "Did you feel something for this man?" "Yes, no, maybe, I don't know. I'm not even sure if I'm human at all."

The silence hits him like a brick crashing into a wall, Hayden hasn't said anything yet. It's probably taking him a minute to absorb Shane's word vomit and look for an answer that will clean it all up.

"It doesn't have to be loud," Hayden settles on, and he says it with so much simplicity and ease that Shane starts to feel like the answers were right there all along and he was just too oblivious to see it. "love can be quiet. Sometimes it's simply bringing coffee to your partner because you know they usually drink coffee at that time of the day."

Shane thinks about the first time Ilya had folded his clothes before sex. It somehow turned them both on and that had been the best sex they'd had so far.

"I also like the way Jackie's name just rolls off my tongue like that. Does that make sense? Maybe it's weird." Hayden continues, wearing a big lovestruck smile on his face and a faint blush on his cheeks.

Shane remembers when he'd spoken Ilya's first name out loud for the first time and how he liked the way it sounded, so unique and unlike any name he'd heard before while living in Canada. He feels the corners of his lips turn up at the memory.

"It's not weird." He subconsciously recognises.

Though Shane is still looking away, Hayden nods and moves onto his next point. "And when it comes to sex, uh, I don't think it's a bad thing at all to feel some sense of calm. I think it's, like, a wonderful thing to feel calm with your partner. I feel that way with Jackie. It's- I guess it has to do with feeling safe. If you constantly feel overwhelming things when you're with your partner, how are you ever going to be at peace at all? Sometimes it's more about feeling calm and safe and also letting go. In weather terms, I'd prefer that over a storm."

Shane had never seen it in that way. No one had ever told him that love could exist in the form of silent endearment and small efforts and be so, so, so incredibly… simple. Why complicate it and make such a big, overwhelming thing about it when it can be… simple? Shane thinks he'd prefer quiet and calm sunshine over a storm too.

"I think- I think I agree." Shane nods to himself and unfolds slightly. He opens his eyes, adjusting to the dim lights of the hotel room. His hands come together in his lap and he subconsciously starts rubbing his empty left ring finger up and down repetitively in a relaxed, slow manner.

"Does she- does this girl make you feel… that way?" Hayden asks curiously.

Shane nods without thinking, but it doesn't make him want to be crushed under a weight anymore. "Yeah, she, uhm, she makes me feel that way."

Shane looks at Hayden, finally, and Hayden is still smiling, though now it's gentle and almost careful.

"Then she was made for you, man. You should give her a chance. You can, like, start slow and dive deeper as you go." Hayden suggests.

Shane grins at him, albeit a little tiredly. "Jackie will be so proud of you giving me advice like that."

Hayden huffs out that friendly laugh of his. "Yeah, man, she totally will be. You better tell her."

Shane feels the weight on his chest shrink a little. It's far from gone, but it's a start.

Not too long after their Big Conversation, they decide to finally go to sleep. All the lights are off and Shane is finally curled up beneath his thick hotel duvet. The fabric of hotel duvet covers usually makes him sweat, but this time it doesn't. It's probably made out of cotton and Shane is sure he'll get a good night of sleep. However, there is only one thing left to do.

He's lying with his back facing Hayden, so when he grabs his phone from the nightstand and turns it on, he makes sure to turn down the brightness of the screen so Hayden won't be bothered by the bright light in the darkness of the room. Shane opens his messages and opens his chat with Ilya. His thumb ghosts over the keyboard, trying to figure out what he's going to text back. Before he can overthink it, he remembers the Big Conversation he just had with Hayden.

It can be so simple.

Shane: had a headache and didn't feel like risking a migraine at a party. stayed back at the hotel room with hayden. you were the one partying, probably.

It's almost midnight. He receives a text back practically immediately.

Lily: yes, was fun. not boring. made out with girls. was not same as with you.

Maybe love doesn't have to be complicated after all and maybe in this life, not another life, they could make it work.

Notes:

it's 4 am. did you really think i'd proof read? unfortunately not.

i sincerely welcome any mistakes that get pointed out to me so i can change them /gen.