Archive of Our Own

Ilya isn’t ignorant or oblivious.

He once was when he had just arrived from Moscow. Surrounded by locker room talk whilst barely speaking English, Ilya picked up on some words he didn’t recognise. Though Svetlana made sure to shut that down almost immediately. They were eating takeout at her place when Ilya had verbatim repeated one of his teammates. Svetlana had smacked his head and yelled at him for using one of those new words, which left Ilya feeling frustrated about his lack of progress in English. He made the mistake of saying it was only a word and it wasn’t used in a negative context, just so he would feel less ashamed. She had thrown him out of her apartment after calling him stupid and then ignored him for three days straight. When he looked up the word’s definition, Ilya had felt his heart sink. Throughout their childhood he always threw the first punch at people that made cruel remarks about Svetlana. They had used the same excuse of something being ‘just a word’, but Ilya knew what was behind it.

Now, over a decade later, he has heard everything in locker rooms and on the ice. Even in press conferences casual racism and homophobia make an appearance. More often than not people assume he is fine with blatant misogyny. And whilst he is no stranger to bigotry, he just can’t believe how incredibly dumb people are without realising.

It starts in the Centaurs locker room. It’s the last day before the break and Rebecca is filming for social media, asking them to open up a bottle that has been glued shut. Ilya has seen the trend come up on his for you page before. So when the bottle is given to Luca, he takes it as a chance to dramatically storm into frame and snatch it out of his hands. “Do not worry, Haasy,” he says, “I will not let them trick a poor rookie. No bullying in my locker room.” He ignores Luca telling him next season will be his fourth year and that he isn’t a rookie anymore.

Shane, not understanding any of the chaos, walks by and stops when Ilya hands him the bottle. “Uh, what? Do you need help?” Shane asks as he tries to unscrew the bottle cap. “Oh wow, this is really stuck. Here, wait, let me just-“

The bottle opens with a loud pop. Rebecca stares at it with her mouth wide open, obviously not expecting anyone to actually do it. Luca is just as confused as ten seconds earlier. Ilya, however, makes a sound that’s toeing on the line between surprised and sexual. Immediately the door gets slammed open by an exhausted-looking Wiebe. He looks at Ilya with narrowed eyes, who in return throws his hands up in the air. “No sex in the locker room,” Ilya says, repeating the words that have been drilled into him.

The video gets posted on the Centaurs Twitter account. Harris makes sure to have Rebecca cut out the last part of Wiebe storming in and send it as a separate video to him instead.

That evening Shane and Ilya sit on opposite ends of the couch, Anya snoring between them. The television is set to a random channel with the volume on low. Shane is reading a book whilst Ilya scrolls through tweets mentioning the video. Most of them are normal reactions that they always get - people calling out their favourite players, extreme zoom-in’s and funny comments. This time there is a flood of the “Hollanov parents”-narrative that makes him groan.

Because even though Ilya makes jokes about Luca being his son, there isn’t really that much of a family dynamic within the team. In Luca’s rookie year Ilya made sure to have him over for dinner bi-weekly so he would have a routine to get used to. However, Ilya does this with all rookies that join the team. And whilst Shane has found his spot in the group, he isn’t the type of person to develop bonds with his teammates the way Ilya does. There are only a handful of Centaurs who do.

Unfortunately Ilya knows exactly why there are so many tweets talking about it. If it would be up to him, he’d call everyone out on their gross need to force heteronormative roles upon him and his husband. Ilya would let everyone know that he takes pride in his softness and emotional maturity. He got called weak as a child, he always had too much empathy for everyone. Now the world tells him he’s the opposite. They laugh about how he is the dad in the team-dynamic, despite missing the mark on nearly every single stereotypical ‘dad trait’.

But it’s not in his right to do so because it isn’t really about him. Ilya could show up in a dress with a full face of make-up, asking everyone to use she/her pronouns, and they’d still deem Shane the mom.

Blocking random users would raise the attention around it he is trying to avoid. So instead, he decides to redirect it by doing something that he’d do any other day as well. Half an hour later, right when he enters the bathroom, he hears Shane’s sputtering downstairs.

In August, during a family dinner, Yuna tells them about New York Fashion Week. “Hermès has asked multiple times about Ilya walking the show,” she says. “Calvin Klein and Michael Kors have asked you both to attend their shows as well.”

A snort escapes Ilya’s mouth. Shane presses his lips together trying not to smile. “For sure, yeah. Right up my alley,” he says in a dead serious tone. “I’m devastated they didn’t ask me to walk. Maybe for the better, y’know. I’m so busy that week, I’d have to miss it anyway.” His eyes leave Ilya’s amused face to look at his mom. When he sees her hesitant expression, the sip of water in his mouth nearly gets spat back into the glass. “Fuck no. Absolutely not. I’m making dad my new manager, I swear.”

“I thought you were so devastated?” David asks, chuckling when Shane sends him a glare. “And what have I ever done to you? I don’t want to be anyone’s manager.” Next to him Ilya starts laughing again. They make the mistake of looking at each other and both start cracking up.

Yuna rolls her eyes but doesn’t even attempt to hide a small smile. “You’re not expected to, of course. But I wanted to bring it up just in case. Ilya’s interest in fashion has made more non-athleisure companies reach out to you too.”

“Ah, yes. It is my fault for not dressing like a divorced father. Now everyone expects my husband to wear something that is not from partnership or free PR package,” Ilya complains. “He calls my style ‘eurotrash’. Your son only wears three colours and has the nerve to call me garbage.”

Shane sighs at that, though hearing ‘eurotrash’ come out of Ilya’s mouth makes him laugh. He grins back at the annoyed frown. “Can you repeat that? I want to make it my new alarm.”

“Woooow, now I am trash at clothes and language. I am sleeping here tonight, right between mama and papa. You can sleep in cold, empty bed.” Looking to his right, Ilya sees David nodding along with a very serious expression.

The conversation ends with Ilya agreeing to Hermès and Shane saying no to attending anything. It gets picked back up again ten minutes later in the kitchen, where Ilya and Yuna are washing up. “Is not that usual to invite athletes, no? Do you think they ask Shane because of him being out?” Ilya asks with a disapproving frown.

“I wouldn’t say it’s entirely because of that. He has been invited before, just never asked to actually participate,” Yuna tells him. “Though there have been a few make-up brands that reached out for a sponsor deal since then. Don’t tell him that, please. I shut those down the minute I saw the names.”

It makes Ilya’s skin itch a bit. He has never received any offers from make-up brands. They don’t interest him, but he doesn’t shy away from letting Svetlana put make-up on him when they go out either. There are more than enough pictures of him getting a manicure with Jackie. Yet the closest thing to make-up that Shane uses is lipbalm when his lips are chapped. Ilya scrunches his nose thinking about it. “Is so fucking weird,” he ends up saying because he can’t tell Yuna anything she doesn’t know herself already. He gets a sad smile in return.

At home Ilya scrolls through Twitter again. The conversation at dinner completely forgotten, he retweets an article Troy shared and answers a text from Svetlana that pops up. He goes back to Twitter to close it, but freezes when he sees a random tweet.

It’s not even that far of a reach. Shane’s skin is the closest thing to perfection and he is a man of routine. Skincare brands send him products every now and then in the hopes of him recommending them. The thing is, however, Shane has one bottle of cleanser and a tube of moisturiser. He forgets to use them more often than not. Ilya was the one to give them to him in the first place, after he saw the 3-1 in the shower.

So Ilya takes action. He makes his way to the bathroom and raids the cabinet for the forgotten 3-1 bottles Shane had stocked up on. At this point he isn’t even that frustrated about the tweet completely getting his husband wrong - he is mostly frustrated because his own skin- and haircare routine get overlooked. Shane is hot without trying, something Ilya preaches daily, but Ilya puts so much care into his appearance and it slips right by people. Maybe he should ask Yuna if the brand of his curl products wants a new ambassador.

In September the front door opens downstairs and the sound of Anya’s paws running in follows. Ilya walks down the stairs right as Shane wipes his face with the front of his shirt. “Hey, what’s up? Anya found a new path behind some bushes so we checked it out. I got some pictures of the view, let me show you,” Shane says whilst he takes Anya’s harness off. He grabs his phone out of his pocket, but freezes when he sees Ilya just staring at him. “Are you okay?”

“Okay. I mean yes, yes I am okay. Very good. Pictures?” Ilya stumbles over his words. His cheeks are burning and his voice slightly wavers. He has been with this man for years, they are married nonetheless. Yet Ilya feels like he’s seventeen years old again, seeing the most gorgeous boy in front of him and trying to think of every English word he knows. Sweaty Shane reduces him to this state. He looks like he just stepped off the ice and Ilya’s heart goes into overdrive. Since Shane works out every day, it happens a lot. There have been multiple instances in which Ilya walked straight into a door or a piece of furniture because he couldn’t look away.

He is saved by the pictures of Anya on a tree stump and the sun peaking over the horizon. There are only a few, but Shane talks enthusiastically about every single one. “Maybe we can go hiking next week. There’s a trail like an hour away that has pretty good reviews,” Shane says after the last picture. His smile grows when Ilya agrees. “Alright, I’m gonna shower and then put up those shelves in the guest rooms.” He lets Ilya pull him back for a kiss and smiles against his lips before he jogs up the stairs.

With no sense of shame, Ilya zeroes in on Shane’s ass until it’s out of his sight. Then he makes his way to the kitchen for breakfast. Training camp starts in a week, meaning there are about two days left before Shane will mostly stick to a brand new meal plan. Ilya takes that as an excuse to whip up a stack of pancakes, make the usual omelettes and add a few waffles. Anya whines with a deep sigh but drops the act as soon as she gets half of a pancake.

The food is still warm after Ilya has shoveled half of it into his mouth. A loud drilling noise from upstairs lets him know Shane is out of the shower, so he loads up a second plate. He brings it with him to the guest room but almost drops it when he walks around the corner. Shane, dressed in a black tank top and black shorts, grabs the screw he was holding with his lips and drills it into the wall. Two shelves are done already, making this the third and final one. Ilya’s mouth goes dry in an instant. Flashes of last month pop into his head - Shane putting furniture together, fixing the drain on the roof, carrying heavy boxes into the house.

“Oh, thank you,” Shane smiles when he sees the plate. “I just finished. What do you think? I can do the other rooms the same way, but I thought it might be nice to switch it up a bit.”

Without a word the plate gets abandoned on the dresser. Right as Shane puts the drill down, Ilya grabs his arm and drags him to their bedroom. Within a few seconds their clothes are gone. They don’t leave the room until it’s lunchtime and Ilya has to avoid the guest room in order not to get hard again.

In October the Centaurs kick the season off with a winstreak. They then get beaten by Buffalo. Ilya is not a huge believer of karma, but also doesn’t dare to say anything bad about other teams for the next few days. It doesn’t work in his favour - they lose another two games before they win one. They have a couple days off near the end of the month that Ilya would love to spend at home. He has already bought all-new Halloween decorations, but still has Shane promise him they’ll get some more before the party. Except two days before Halloween Shane tells Ilya they have been invited to an NBA game and he really wants to go.

“You always watch it. So I want to go see what it’s about, maybe I’ll really like it as well,” he says a little bashful. “But we don’t have to go! I know that you want the party to be perfect. We can go the next time we’re free and focus on decorating. I don’t even know the teams, maybe they’re both shit and we’re better off saying no.”

The last part is a lie, Ilya knows. Shane has definitely done extensive research the moment he started thinking about going so he knows who’s playing. It makes Ilya smile and wrap him in his arms. “You are so dumb,” he laughs. “Of course we are going. Party will be perfect because we are hosting it, duh. Not because of decorations.” He plants a kiss on Shane’s lips. “Is Anya going to mama and papa?”

The universe must hate Ilya because right at that moment the front door gets slammed open. “Oh shit- fuck, my bad. My key got stuck and then the door.. anyway. Hey. ‘Sup?” Hayden has a wide smile on his face. Behind him there is some rustling and then JJ walks in as well. “You pushed me into the bushes on purpose,” JJ frowns annoyed at Hayden. They start arguing with each other over who pushed who and all Ilya can think of is that Hayden Pike’s own children are more mature than this.

Though there still is a very noticeable tension between JJ and Ilya, they now mostly tolerate each other. The wedding had been somewhat of a turning point - JJ made sure to apologise before and had sent Shane a long message afterwards in which he told him he missed their friendship. He had made a big donation to the Irina Foundation as a wedding gift. Shane and him recently started hanging out again when their schedules allow it, texting some more as well.

Shane greets them and dares to brave Ilya’s eyes. “So you know how we play against Montréal next game? I thought they could stay here so we could catch up. And they agreed to watch Anya, she loves them!” He tries to break the news in a voice that doesn’t give away he was supposed to tell about this a week earlier. “We’re gonna get dressed and then get going. You guys know where everything is, yeah?”

With a happy bark, Anya comes running down the hallway. She barrels straight into JJ - who squats down and throws himself into cuddling her. Ilya stares at them with narrowed eyes, whispering ‘traitor’ to Anya. She fully ignores him and trots over to Hayden instead for even more attention.

Five minutes later Shane and Ilya are getting ready upstairs. “Sorry, I should have asked you. They can always go back to their hotel if you don’t feel comfortable. I’ll kick them out and say I forgot we already had plans for tomorrow. Maybe mom can call and make something up about a family birthday,” Shane says, more so to himself, whilst grabbing a zip hoodie. When he looks at Ilya and sees a very amused smile, he rolls his eyes. “You knew. Of course you knew, Jackie probably texted you about it.”

“Yes I knew, solnyshko. You put it in our Google Calendar.” Ilya grins at the defeated groan coming from Shane. “We have guest rooms for this reason, no? I thought they would come tomorrow, that is why I was surprised.” He catches the pillow thrown at him and throws it back on the bed. “But they can not stay for the party. Halloween is team-only.” They agree on that. Not just because it’s for the Centaurs and their families, but also because the stories about the Voyageurs are the reason Shane is now in Ottawa. The Centaurs would not be happy seeing two of them at their captain’s house.

After saying goodbye to Hayden and JJ, Ilya saying goodbye to only Anya and just nodding to the other two, they leave. It’s a two hour car ride with Shane behind the wheel and Ilya being a self-proclaimed passenger princess. It’s how most of their drives go - very rarely switching places. Shane can’t help but smile at Ilya during every red light. “I love you,” he tells him softly.

“I love you too. I would love you even more if you drove a little faster.”

“Oh my fucking god, I’m already hitting the speed limit, you asshole.”

In November Ilya has one of the worst days of his life. Nothing causes it, really. There is no devastating loss, he doesn’t have a huge fight with Shane, everyone he keeps close to him is perfectly healthy and safe. Yet he wakes up feeling like he won’t ever play hockey again and wants to go back to Russia - even though he knows the consequences it would have. There is an untouched bottle of pills on his nightstand that would definitely help him right now. His antidepressants are the reason days like these are rare. Instead of taking them, he rolls over and goes back to sleep.

A few hours later he wakes up again and still feels the same. This time there is a plate on his nightstand, a bottle of water and two pills on top of a sticky note. Ilya is stubborn but he isn’t dumb. He doesn’t want to, he still feels wrong taking the dosage every day, but he also knows that his aversion has nothing to do with the pills at all. Galina had explained it to him in a way that annoyed him endlessly with how much sense it made.

“You do not have to take them,” she had said. “It is your choice, you know this as well. So why do you still take them?” The silence went on for what could have been hours. Ilya had tried to think of anything that would justify stopping. The few times something popped into his head, he had five counter arguments ready. “Because they work,” he finally answered. Galina’s neutral expression didn’t shift in the slightest. She just nodded a few times and wrote something down. “A lot of people associate taking medicine with a fixable problem. For instance, if you have a headache then you take paracetamol. It isn’t necessary, if it’s a small headache you can still function without any painkillers, but taking it means you choose to relief yourself from that pain.” She had looked at him with a softer expression. “I don’t think you’re self-destructive, Ilya. Wanting to prove to yourself that you still have a choice to take pills, even when you know it isn’t fixable, does not make you it either. I think it is perfectly human to want confirmation that you are still in control of your own life.”

So Ilya begrudgingly sits up straight and takes the pills with a sip of water. His heart clenches upon seeing the food on the plate. Despite not being hungry at all, he still takes a few bites from the McGriddle. Shane going out of his way to drive to the nearest McDonalds, which is about an hour from their house, in the hopes of getting Ilya to eat is enough for him to eventually finish it. The feeling of emptiness, the burning ache throughout his muscles, they are both still there. His head still feels like static and he already is falling back asleep. But his heart feels a little less numb.

“Okay, go,” someone whispers nearby. Before he can register anything, Ilya’s face falls victim to Anya’s tongue. She jumps away for a second and then lands on top of him. Still not being able to see anything, he pushes her head away so he can finally open his eyes. Above him Anya is shaking her body with so much excitement she nearly falls off the bed.

Ilya gasps dramatically. He sees a smile break through on Shane’s face from the corner of his eye, which is an indication he must have slept long enough to worry him. “Did dad bore you so much?” Ilya’s voice is thick with sleep and comes out raspy. “Is that why you are so excited? Oh I know, babygirl. He is sooooo boring.” After a yawn he stretches his arms and then sits up. He melts against Shane’s touch as soon as he feels him standing next to the bed and combing his fingers through Ilya’s curls.

“Feeling better?” Shane asks, smiling relieved when he gets a nod. “Anya and I went on a little trip earlier. She even got a pupcup, although she did try to eat the cup as well.” His nose scrunch makes Ilya chuckle. “What’s the plan? It’s seven now, so we can order in and watch a show if you’re up for it. We can go to mom and dad, they can come here. Or I can get you something small to eat and you can go back to sleep- oh Ilya,” Shane’s voice softens seeing the tears that roll over Ilya’s cheeks. He climbs on top of him, Anya joining their side, and wraps his arms around him.

“Thank you,” Ilya manages to bring out through sobs, “I love you.”

The next day starts with them waking up in the morning, bright sunlight peeking inside through a small gap between the curtains. They take a while to get out of bed, clinging onto each other, but eventually end up under the shower together. After that Shane takes Anya out for a run whilst Ilya answers a few e-mails. His patience runs out after three, so he switches to social media. Twitter has barely loaded and immediately he gets bombarded with candids of Shane from yesterday.

Candids in which his husband is wearing his leather jacket. The one that still smells a bit like smoke and the cologne he used to wear in Russia. Ilya vows to always take his meds on time from now on, not wanting to miss out on this ever again.

In December the Centaurs have a New Year’s party at Monk’s. They have the luck of not needing to play a game the next day, which means the entire team shows up. Most of them bring food as well - Selena proudly presenting a big bowl of olivye to Ilya and Harris carrying a box inside with nets of mandarins.

“Will your family now disown you?” Ilya asks as he gestures at the mandarins. “Is this not considered illegal for you? What will your parents think?”

Harris snorts at that. “Yeah, my trial is on the fifth. I think they’re gonna execute me by pelting apples at my head,” he says whilst ripping the nets open and dividing the mandarins over a few bowls. “Hey, I got you something! Four hours to go is close enough to midnight, right?” He hands him a small gift bag. “I kinda got into knitting during hospital stays but I haven’t done it in a long time. So sorry it’s kinda wonky, it’s made with love!”

Inside of the bag is a toque in the Centaurs colours. It has a big 81 on it, though the numbers are crooked and not the same size. A beaming smile takes over Ilya’s face. “Harris!” He almost yells. Immediately he puts the toque over his head, ruining the styled curls without any hesitation. “It is beautiful! Thank you so much. I will never take it off,” Ilya says in a voice that leaves no room for doubt.

With a bottle of beer in his hand, Shane joins them still laughing at something over his shoulder. “How good is Bood at pool?” He lowers his voice and his expression is suddenly dead serious. “Because he asked me as a joke but I only wanna play if I can win.” The second Harris lets out a ‘meh’ it’s decided. Shane turns around and makes his way to Bood at the pool table. Intrigued, both men follow him.

“Yeah, for sure,” he replies to something Chouinard said, who is the other half of his team. He is clearly trying to not look too judgy at Holmberg standing next to Bood as his chosen teammate. “Alright, let’s go.”

Half an hour later Ilya is sitting at the bar with his eyes on the pool table. A second game has started, this time it’s Shane and Lisa against Bood and Hayes. Shane has his hat on backwards and Ilya is on the verge of dragging him to the bathroom so he can blow him. Someone coming over and sitting on the barstool next to him pushes those thoughts away.

“He’s such a jock,” Cassie says with a chuckle. She puts her glass of dark liquor on the bar so she can fold her arms. When she sees Ilya looking at Bood, she laughs and shakes her head. “Oh no, I’m talking about your man. That guy is hockey if it was a person. And thank god for that, I’ve seen those Reebok ads.” The dreamy look that falls over Ilya’s face makes Cassie laugh even harder. “You know what Zane used to say every time he saw them? He’d go ‘I think Hollander is my man-crush’ and then rave about his stats and how handsome Shane was.”

“What an amateur, I do that every day,” Ilya says without looking away from his husband. The flush on his cheeks gives away that Shane has had a few beers already and is enjoying himself. He looks up at Ilya, smiles and gets right back to the banter. Cassie takes a sip of her drink with a grin on her face.

For a week straight the hashtag #fratboyhollzy trends on Twitter with various pictures of Shane wearing a backwards hat. Ilya provides most of them.