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“Shane, moy Lyubov, where are you?” Ilya’s voice echoed through the cottage as he returned from their weekly grocery run. “Setting up the firepit! Put on a sweater and come out!” Shane’s slightly muffled voice came from outside.
Ilya put away the groceries, grabbed his favorite sweater, a navy blue one he’d actually stolen from Shane their first summer at the cottage, which he promptly never returned, and went to greet his boyfriend.
This was now their third summer here, their third year being boyfriends, their third year keeping that a secret, though overall they’d been keeping each other a secret in some shape or form for a decade now. Ilya remembered how thrilling the first year had been, he had to play out his contract with Boston, so the distance had still been there, which sucked, but it had also been exhilarating, sneaking out of team hotels, not just for an hour but for whole nights or even a day when they were lucky, it made them feel like teenagers again. Meeting in their houses, where they both had keys, where they both had clothes, toiletries, and homes they shared in a way. No longer Shane’s or Ilya’s but theirs.
And then Ilya moved to the Centaurs team, to Ottawa, and the distance reduced dramatically. They were so nearby that one could drive down for a whole weekend, sometimes even 3 to 4 days if there were optional practices, which Ilya was more than happy to skip, though Shane typically needed more convincing.
They also launched their charity, announcing their friendship, announcing them in a way. Given how important and serious the charity’s cause had been, no one had been outwardly mean, but there had been speculation: Why Rozanov? Why Hollander? Couldn’t they have started this with their team mates?
But still, the response to the camps had been overwhelmingly good. Ilya loved being around kids, Shane was on a steep learning curve on that front, but they both loved being able to do this for their cause, for Irina.
It seemed like 2 years had flown by, for Ilya, though it had been a tough couple years. On one hand, he was so near his boyfriend, he got to spend more time with him now than ever before. On the other hand, while the Centaurs were a lovely team and had great camaraderie, it didn’t translate to their on-ice performance. Ilya single-handedly had dragged them to a better position, scoring almost all their goals, but even he couldn’t be a whole team.
It had started to get to him more than he was willing to admit. There were days he woke up wondering if he should have just retired instead. Would he ever win another cup? Would Shane stop loving him if he couldn’t be a rival anymore? Would he and Shane ever be able to come out publicly? And Ilya had always been good at isolating himself when he wanted to, cocooning himself in the massive house he bought, the house he bought thinking of a future, which still seemed so uncertain.
He didn’t call the team over to his house, not wanting to disturb the sacred space where he and Shane enjoyed themselves. Shane’s presence was all over the house, and Ilya didn’t feel like hiding it all, nor could he explain it. Why Hollander’s gross protein powder was in his kitchen, why there were Metro's t-shirts in his closet, or why there was a yoga mat in his gym when he had never been seen doing anything remotely flexible. So, he let Bood take over and host the barbeques, or he’d take them all out to Monks, but there was a distance he maintained. It wasn’t as open as it had been with the Raiders, but how could it be? With all the secrets he’d been keeping.
As a result, Ilya hated and loved his life in Ottawa equally; he loved it when Shane was around or on the rare occasions when the Centaurs did win. But on most lonely nights, when there was no Shane and only losses, the only relief came in the form of company with Yuna and David.
He hadn’t had anyone who cared about him in so long, initially it had felt a bit weird. Why did they care if his health was ok? Why did they bring him soup? Why did they invite him for dinner when Shane wasn’t around? But very quickly it had become Ilya’s refuge from the world and from his own mind.
Hence, he lied to them about how fun it was with his team, how they were going to do better, and how he was confident he could turn everything around. Ilya was getting tired of all the secrets and lies he was keeping from all the different people in his life, even from himself.
He had been thinking all this on his drive back from the store, but now, being here, being in Shane’s presence, took away all his worries. He had more important things to do. He strolled towards the crackling fire that Shane had set up. Shane, the love of his life, the man he desperately wanted to marry, the one whose ring size Ilya wanted to get because he already had a ring design picked out. As he reached Shane, he hugged him from behind, giving him a quick kiss on his neck, breathing him in. “Hi solnyshko," he whispered. “Hey yourself, Mon Coeur," Shane replied, turning in his arms to give him a kiss.
It was just a simple sweet kiss, a lot like the one they’d once shared years ago in Shane’s stairwell, not heated, not hurried, just a reminder. Hey, I’m here, I love you, and I am glad you’re here. Ilya looked into Shane’s dark brown eyes, he took in how the fire lit up Shane’s freckles so beautifully, how nice his longer hair looked, and how perfect this night was.
It was a clear night, there were no clouds in the sky, only twinkling stars and a bright full moon. It was the kind of night that Ilya had dreamt of, the perfect night for a proposal. The kind of night that was a rarity even in the middle of summer. The kind of night where the words Ilya had been wanting to say out loud for easily a year now were screaming for attention in his head.
**
Shane had always loved his cottage, his little hideaway from the world. But he hadn’t realized how lonely it had been until Ilya came and filled it with his presence. This was their third summer here, and Ilya’s little touches had made it seem more like a home than a house that was empty for most of the year. He’d insisted on having his horrible top-notch Russian vodka in the freezer, his precious sour cream, and Cokes in the fridge, a large quilt now lay on the sofa for cuddling and watching TV. He'd even left a pair of his Adidas swim trunks and slides in the closet, their closet. These were little touches, but somehow it made it seem warmer somehow.
Shane had missed Ilya so much this past season. It had been a hard one, somehow harder than even the season when they were new to their relationship and Ilya still played with Boston. They’d settled into being boyfriends now, they had very old-couple fights, whose turn it was to pick something to watch, getting grossed out at each other’s food choices, arguing about hockey stats, and even those rare but angry fights over issues that were bound to crop up when you shared a life with someone. As much as Shane hated those fights, the makeup sex would always be absolutely mind-blowing, which he couldn’t fault.
But the secrecy, the effort it took to hide such an important person of his life from almost everyone, was getting to Shane. Especially with his team. Even the charity announcement with Ilya had stirred up some commotion.
Shane’s team had been supportive only in front of the media, being downright cruel sometimes about it to him in locker rooms. When Shane came out to them, it only made matters worse. However, they knew they needed him. They wanted to win another cup just like Shane did, so somehow the Metros had banded together, put away their differences, and last season had actually done it. They won the cup, their third.
Shane couldn’t imagine sharing with them, though, that he was not only gay but also in a committed relationship with Ilya Rozanov. He was sure he’d get kicked out of the NHL for that. So, he focused on cherishing the time he did have with Ilya, the 2 months of summer bliss, where the outside world’s noise just faded away. He decided to do something special while Ilya was out getting groceries. He knew how much Ilya enjoyed the nights they spent out by the fire, even though he claimed to find them boring.
"Boring" was some kind of Ilya code for things he actually loved, Shane had realized a little too late. So he went about setting it up. As he was doing so, he took in how breathtaking the night was. The clear skies, the full moon, the twinkling stars, and the way the moonlight glittered on the water. Shane wished he could stay in this moment forever. He wished this could have been the night he asked iLya to marry him. As much as he still believed in his long-term plan of only announcing their relationship once they retired, he wasn’t sure he could hold on for that long to ask Ilya to be his husband.
He wasn’t even sure he could wait till retirement about them at all, even though he kept insisting it was the safest route. Every year the secret chipped something inside him, making him feel even guiltier for not telling the world how happy his boyfriend made him, how badly he wanted to live with him, to wake up in his arms every day, and to be able to be together the way all other couples got to be, without any repercussions.
He was lost in his thoughts when he heard the door open, he called out for Ilya. And soon enough found himself in his favorite place, wrapped in Ilya’s large arms. They sat down, taking in the fire and the night, just chatting about random things and planning out their fun summer days, maybe they’d take out the jet skis tomorrow and call over Shane’s parents the day after. The best kind of plans really.
After a while, suddenly Ilya stood up, pulling Shane to his feet too. For a second Shane thought Ilya was going to beat him in proposing, but instead, Ilya put on a song on his phone.
He grabbed Shane’s left hand with his right, putting the other one on his waist, and they began swaying as the song started. It wasn’t one Shane had heard earlier, but then again Shane was terrible at knowing songs. The song sounded very soothing, though, a gentle voice singing softly, a perfect one for such a perfect night.
**
You leapt from crumbling bridges, watching cityscapes turn to dust
Filming helicopters crashing in the ocean from way above
Got the music in you, baby, tell me why
Got the music in you, baby, tell me why
You've been locked in here forever, and you just can't say goodbye
How true, Ilya thought, he’d been locked in with Shane since that parking lot in Regina, more so since that night in Room 1410, he just hadn’t been able to say goodbye to Shane since then. No matter how much he tried.
Kisses on the foreheads of the lovers wrapped in your arms
You've been hiding them in hollowed-out pianos left in the dark
Being wrapped in Ilyas's arms, hearing this, made Shane’s insides tingle. It's exactly how he felt about Ilya, like he was a secret he was hiding from the world, kept in the dark. No matter how much he didn’t want to.
Got the music in you, baby, tell me why
Got the music in you, baby, tell me why
You've been locked in here forever, and you just can't say goodbye
Your lips, my lips
Apocalypse
Your lips, my lips
Apocalypse
Ilya leaned down to kiss Shane softly. Kissing Shane was his favorite thing in the world. Nothing compared to how good Shane’s lips felt. And when Shane kissed him back with such sweetness and passion, it lit Ilya’s insides on fire.
Go and sneak us through the rivers
Flood is rising up on your knees
Oh, please
Come out and haunt me, I know you want me
Come out and haunt me
Sharing all your secrets with each other, since you were kids
Sleeping soundly with the locket that she gave you clutched in your fist
Shane remembered how many secrets he and Ilya had kept for the other over the years. Of course their hookups and now them being in love, but also smaller ones, like how Ilya loved sexting Shane before a BOS vs MTL game, his little pre-game ritual, or how Shane used to cut his hair in a terrible manner because he was convinced it had won him the previous cups.
He touched Ilya’s locket from his mother lightly; at the next line, he looked up to see Ilya's eyes were glistening with tears at it, just like his were.
Got the music in you, baby, tell me why
Got the music in you, baby, tell me why
You've been locked in here forever, and you just can't say goodbye
You've been locked in here forever, and you just can't say goodbye
Ah, Shane didn’t want to say goodbye. Not to Ilya, not ever. Sometimes their whole relationship felt like they were saying goodbye to each other constantly. He longed for days when he could say hello instead.
Oh, when you're all alone
I will reach for you
When you're feeling low
I will be there too
Ilya always reached for Shane; good day or bad day didn’t matter. Shane was the person he wanted to share everything with. But he was also not telling Shane everything because he was trying to hold space for Shane to open up to him instead. He’d heard the rumors from his Raiders friends and from his Centaurs teammates about how weird the Montreal locker room had gotten. He knew Shane was hiding some things from him. He wanted to be a safe space for Shane to allow himself to feel everything he usually kept at bay.
He hoped Shane could see that. He also hoped Shane couldn’t see how badly he felt like getting on his knees and proposing right in this moment.
But when he looked into Shane’s eyes, he felt like he saw the same emotion reflected back. Like he wasn’t alone in having those words at the tip of his tongue.
So he kissed him soundly instead. “I want you, kotik." He whispered as they parted. “Let’s go to bed then.” Shane said, pulling them both to the bedroom.
They spent the whole night showing each other how much they loved each other, saying with their kisses what they couldn’t yet with their words.
Shane’s lips, Ilya’s lips.
It truly was like apocalypse.