Chapter Text
It had started as an uneventful flight. A flight just like every other one he had been on. A little turbulence here and there but nothing alarming. Flight attendants bringing cans of Ginger ale and politely declining the bags of free snacks or handing them over to Hayden. A baby crying somewhere behind them, a man snoring in the row over and his teammates popping over to chat every now and then.
Flying was second nature by now, he did it a lot. More in one season than most people would their whole life. He didn’t even think about it anymore, just threw his bag in the overhead compartment and took his seat, buckled his seatbelt and listened to the safety instructions that he could probably recite himself at this point. He trusted that it would get him from point A to point B.
They were flying into Montreal after a road trip that felt particularly long. On the upside they had won 5 out of 6 games and he was going home for a while which was a welcome thought. On the downside, Ilya was in Ottawa for a game tonight but would be wheels up for a road trip by morning. Meaning another near miss and another week apart, added onto the two that had already passed.
Ilya had said he would just make the two hour drive after his game and they could have a couple hours before he would head back for his flight . Shane had talked him out of it, even though he wanted it so badly it made him ache with need. He told Ilya they could survive another week. There had been some resistance but Shane had won out in the end.
Sometimes having just a couple hours felt worse than nothing at all. It made saying goodbye again even harder. Before, when stolen moments were all they had, it had been enough. Now it felt like a tease, just long enough to get a taste of what they wanted, to have it ripped away all too soon.
It didn’t mean it wasn’t tempting. Two hours of soft skin stretched over hard muscle underneath his hands wasn’t something to scoff at. If he closed his eyes and thought about it long enough it was almost like he was right there. He could picture adoring hazel eyes, a mess of curls coming undone in Shane’s grasp, constellations of moles along his back and the feeling of his hard…
Shane shook himself out of that line of thought. An erection on a crowded flight while sitting next to his best friend was something he would rather avoid.
Not to mention they had both agreed a little time apart was probably for the best. Shane felt like,for the most part, the fight was behind them. They had made up, they were communicating better and Shane had been able to truly understand the sacrifices that Ilya had made for him.
Ilya was also seemingly starting to understand that Shane was not a mind reader and if he needed something, he had to talk to him. It was going to take time for Ilya to unlearn the strong instinct he had to turn inward when things got tough. Shane would tell him, every single day if he had to, that he was staying and that nothing would ever be “too much”. Shane had strong shoulders and would carry anything he had to if it meant that Ilya didn’t have to do it alone.
Overall, they were in a good place but maybe a little more time was ok. It would make the reunion even more enjoyable when it finally did happen.
Shane looked at the flight path on the screen in front of him. He tilted his head back with a sigh, a little less than an hour left. He couldn’t wait to get home, to take a nice long shower and maybe revisit the fantasy his mind had been brewing up only moments ago. After that he was looking forward to putting on some of Ilya’s sweats and getting a good nights sleep. There was also the possibility of a little FaceTime session depending on how Ilya was feeling after the game and that lifted his spirits even more.
The first bit of turbulence he felt in the next minute didn’t alarm him. He was a pro at flying, he made sure his seatbelt was on tight, looked at a sleeping Hayden next to him to make sure his was on as well and was ready to wait it out. The next part felt different.
The plane dipped, swiftly and sharply, in a way that made his stomach swoop violently. The motion woke Hayden immediately, he looked to Shane, still half asleep, before it happened again and now Hayden was fully awake as well as everyone around them.
The captain was on the intercom, telling everyone to fasten their seatbelts including the flight attendants. When Shane met the eyes of the flight attendant strapping into the seat in front of him, he saw what he could only interpret as fear. Well, that wasn’t fucking good.
The plane was shuddering now, almost like it was coming apart at the seams. It was so loud, way too loud. The baby behind him was now inconsolable and it wasn’t just the baby screaming at this point. People around him were panicking, some yelling, some praying, some just cursing. He wrapped his hands around the armrests until his knuckles turned white and tried to convince himself this was just bad turbulence.
At that moment, the nose of the plane tipped downward, pushing Shane hard against his restraints. Holy fuck, the plane was going to crash. He was certain of it. He felt his heart and his stomach lurch into his throat. He looked around the cabin but the team was spread out and he couldn’t find them in the chaos.
He looked to Hayden instead, his best friend, his line mate, the person he trusted more than most people and met wild, wide eyes. Hayden was talking but he couldn’t make out much more besides the words, “Jackie” and “the kids”, and he could see the tears streaming down his face. Shane grabbed Hayden’s hand, holding tight, trying to offer some comfort and maybe find a little for himself.
Shane’s head was a jumbled mess of thoughts smashing into each other as they tried to work their way to the front of his mind. He thought of his parents and hoped he had made them proud. He prayed they would go on to live long lives and that his death wouldn’t sour all the happy memories they had. He thought of Jackie and the kids as well and all his teammates families who would lose their brothers, sons, and fathers. It all felt so deeply unfair.
And when his mind could protect him no longer, he saw Ilya. Kind, passionate, hardheaded, loving, beautiful, strong and yet more fragile than he would ever admit.
He imagined never kissing those lips again, the way Ilya would seal his mouth over Shane’s own and steal the breath from his lungs. The firm grip on his chin or behind his ear, moving his head where he wanted to kiss him harder and deeper. The feeling of his tongue breaking the seal of Shane’s lips and familiarizing itself with the back of his teeth. Gentle kisses over freckles that made Shane squirm and blush.
Never running his hands reverently over heated skin or intertwining their fingers together or running his hands through soft curls or feeling Ilya come up behind him in the kitchen or the bathroom, arms wrapping around his middle, chin hooking over his shoulder.
Never again feeling the shape of the words, “I love you” pressed against his neck as they made love. Feeling satiated and boneless after hours exploring each other’s bodies. The aftercare that Ilya freely gave, always taking care of him in anyway he needed.
He thought about never hearing his laugh again or rolling his eyes when he called him boring. Never doing the mundane things again like folding laundry or cooking dinner or washing dishes side by side, bumping shoulders as they did. Never sharing a secret smile or speaking with only their eyes across a crowded room.
He thought of the life they were going to have, the plans that would never come to be. He thought of babies and dogs, long weeks at the cottage and even more time there in retirement, growing old together and seeing their babies have babies.
Every moment that was supposed to happen, stopped dead in its tracks. There was so much they had left to do. So much they wanted and deserved to have. They fought for this relationship so hard.
They hadn’t even come out. Shane would die and Ilya would too but slowly and alone. He had Shane’s parents, Jackie and the kids but their relationship was a secret for the most part. Would anyone even believe him if he told them once Shane was gone? Would he want anyone to know? Would he hold the secret inside himself for the rest of his life?
Then Shane felt his stomach drop even farther somehow because a thought formed that filled him with absolute dread. Suddenly the mayhem around him paled in comparison to the scenario that filled his mind and lodged itself in his throat.
Ilya wouldn’t survive this. He knew this with the same certainty that he knew the plane was going down. With the same sureness of the air he was breathing. He knew that Ilya was already having a tough time lately. That there were things battling in his mind that he didn’t share with Shane.
That thought is what pushed him over the edge and for the first time since this all started, somehow only a couple minutes ago, he felt his panic truly rising. He felt himself squeeze Hayden’s hand harder and felt the bile rising in his throat.
Shane was thankful the last words he had said to him before they hung up the phone on their preflight call was “I love you, asshole.” That seemed more than appropriate but it wasn’t enough.
No WiFi so no texts. A thought fought through his haze of grief. He pulled his phone out with his free hand and scrolled to Instagram, opening his message thread with Ilya.
And now what? Shane knew he wasn’t the best with words. He could talk about hockey all day or the Canadian history…of hockey. These could be the most important words he ever sent to Ilya, they had to be perfect. The plane shuddered hard and he heard someone yell something about a fire.
”Ok Hollander, now isn’t the time to over think this, just say what’s in your heart.” He thought. He started typing, his hand shaking badly.
My greatest accomplishment is the life I’ve built with you
I would trade every trophy, every award for just one more minute with you
I need you to know that
Shane knew that was true and he hoped it would tell Ilya that he would always choose him, over hockey, over everything. Except now that choice was being taken out of his hands. Knowing about your imminent death really did provide clarity. None of that shit mattered, not really.
What mattered was Ilya’s breath on the back of his neck, waking up in the strong arms of the man he loved. Late night dinners after games. Ilya knowing and caring about the foods he would and wouldn’t eat. Sitting on the dock and watching the sun set. Soft kisses on warm skin. A hand holding his face, his eyes drifting to pink lips. Movies wrapped in blankets on the couch. Working out together. Anything and everything as long as it was with him.
Another steep dip, another sound that was much too loud. He had to finish, there may not be much time left.
You always tell me how brave I am
I need you to be brave this time
No matter what happens
I need you to stay
Please
God, if he had more time, the things he would say. My parents. They’ve lost me, they can’t lose you too. Jackie and the kids without Hayden. They’ll need you too. It wasn’t fair to ask but he hoped it would be enough to keep him there. He had Svetlana and Cliff and the Centaurs. So many people who loved him. So many people who cared but would he even be able to see that?
Would he shut them out? Would they let him? Would they fight to keep his head above water? Would he keep fighting or would he let go?
it terrified him to think of that. Ilya slowly pulling away from everyone and everything. Not asking for or accepting help.
Shane hated he would die without knowing the fate of the man he loved more than anyone else. He hoped he would pull through. He had already been through so much, surely he could find a way.
He vaguely heard the voice of the pilot telling them to ready themselves for an emergency landing. Was Shane wrong to think that felt hopeful? An emergency landing, not a crash. He felt Hayden extract his hand and push Shane down so his head was between his own knees, in the position to brace for impact. He typed one last message.
I love you so much and I always will.
The impact was so hard that Shane’s phone flew from his hand, he distantly hoped it didn’t hit anymore. He was violently thrown against their restraints as the plane hit the ground with a deafening sound that sounded way too much like a Hollywood explosion. He felt warmth on his forehead, somewhat able to understand it was blood from where his head had hit the seat in front of him.
It was still so loud but now people were cheering. He felt Hayden grab him by the shoulders, shaking him and laughing in an almost hysterical way. The plane landed. It landed. And they were ok. Mostly. The cut on his forehead hurt but he was almost happy for it. He was still alive to feel the pain.
Shane let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. The messages surged back to the forefront of his mind. Messages Ilya was going to get with no context except for what would most certainly be dramatized all over the internet and on the news.
Fuck.