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David Hollander had always wanted more kids.
But after watching Yuna go through grueling complications during her pregnancy, he decided he never wanted to see his wife suffer like that ever again.
Besides, the moment Shane was born, every other wish David had ever carried seemed insignificant the second he held his son in his arms for the first time.
From that day forward, Shane had filled every part of their lives with light.
Watching him grow up, David couldn’t have been more proud of the determined, talented and kind young man they had raised. From the moment Shane could walk with skates on his feet to becoming one of the biggest stars in hockey, he had always been the center of their world.
And now, with a glass of vodka in hand, he watched the Russian hockey player sit across their dinner table looking at Shane like he had hung the moon.
It was then, David realized, Shane had somehow become Ilya’s world too.
It was strange, in a way.
Not because David doubted Ilya cared for him. That much had become evident within the first ten minutes of the pair showing up at their cottage to explain themselves after getting caught.
It was in the way Ilya’s attention followed Shane around the room without meaning to. The way his expression softened every time Shane laughed. The way he always reached for Shane first without thinking—a hand against his back, fingers brushing Shane’s beneath the table, small touches that felt instinctive after years of hiding them.
Like loving Shane had become muscle memory.
And maybe that was what caught David off guard the most.
Because their entire careers had been framed through the lens of their rivalry, and the stories written about Ilya Rozanov, the cold, arrogant playboy, seemed to be nothing more than a facade as he looked at Shane with so much quiet devotion it was almost difficult to witness head-on.
Like Shane was something precious.
Something Ilya would destroy the entire world to protect if asked.
Yuna seemed to notice it too from where she sat beside him, quiet but always observant in the way most mothers were. David caught the faint smile she tried to hide behind the rim of her wine glass as Shane absentmindedly leaned into Ilya’s side while talking.
Almost as if the years they have spent hiding and staying apart, has only made them gravitate towards each other more.
“—said he hired a stylist,” Ilya laughed, “To impress me probably.”
“That was not the reason,” Shane scowled.
“You said that when you broke up with famous actress too.”
“Ilya.”
“Sorry, Hollander.” He waved a hand dismissively as he scooped another helping of spaghetti onto his plate. “I know she is your friend.”
Yuna chuckled from beside David.
“Careful, Ilya,” she warned. “Your jealousy is showing.”
“When it comes to him? Always,” He shrugged, mouth full of food.
“Oh my God,” Shane groaned before dropping his head onto Ilya's shoulder to hide the blush on his cheeks.
Without hesitation, Ilya rested his cheek against Shane's hair and pressed a brief kiss to the top of his head.
The conversation carried on around them, but David found himself smiling softly at the sight.
Under the table, he reached for Yuna's hand and squeezed it gently.
Neither of them said anything.
They didn't have to.
Their son was loved.
And that’s all they could really ask for.
“We should get going,” Shane cleared his throat, pushing his chair back. “We didn't mean to drop all of this on you tonight and it's already been a lot—”
“It’s fine, honey,” Yuna assured, standing from the table. “We understand. Do you mind helping me with the dishes before you leave?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Of course.”
Yuna and Shane immediately began clearing plates. Ilya attempted to stand and help only for Shane to swat away his hand.
“Sit.”
“I can help.”
“You are a guest.”
“I am your boyfriend.”
“You're still a guest.”
“Dictator.”
“Sit down, Rozanov.”
David chuckled as Ilya rolled his eyes and reluctantly obeyed.
A few minutes later, David stood and grabbed the vodka bottle from the table.
“Want to head outside while they clean up?” he asked.
The hesitation on Ilya's face was immediate.
Like he was trying to figure out whether this was a conversation he should be nervous about.
But after a second, he nodded.
“Okay.”
The night air was cool as they stepped onto the back deck.
David poured them both another glass before settling against the railing.
For a few moments, neither spoke.
The sounds of dishes clinking together drifted through the open kitchen window.
“Thank you,” Ilya finally said, accepting his drink.
David shook his head.
“I should be thanking you.”
Ilya frowned.
“For what?”
“Shane hasn't been this open with us in a long time.”
Ilya’s brows knitted together.
“What do you mean?”
David took a slow sip before answering.
“He's always been happy. Always been kind. But Shane...” He paused. “He's kept parts of himself locked away for years.”
Inside the kitchen, David could see Yuna handing Shane a dish towel.
Whatever she said made Shane laugh.
A real laugh.
Yuna immediately started laughing too.
For a moment, he simply watched them through the window. The two people he'd built his entire life around.
Then he glanced beside him, and found Ilya already watching Shane too.
“Ever since he was a kid,” David continued quietly, “it always felt like there was a wall around him., and we just could never figure out how to get around it.”
David's gaze drifted back to the kitchen.
“But with you around...” he said softly, “It disappears.”
Ilya looked over and David offered him a small smile.
“I've only seen the two of you together in person for a few hours. But I've never seen Shane this relaxed.”
“It's like he can finally breathe,” David continued. “Like he's not performing for anybody.”
For a moment, it was quiet.
David noticed Ilya looking down into his glass, when he finally spoke.
“I'm not used to talks like this.”
David's eyebrows lifted.
“My father never...” Ilya laughed quietly to himself. “He never had conversations like this with me.”
Something tightened in David’s chest.
“I don't really know what to say.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
Ilya looked out at the sunset beyond the deck.
“Shane is my person.”
The words tumbled from his mouth so honestly. A small smile tugged at the corner of Ilya's lips.
“Sometimes I think he understands me better than I understand myself.”
His eyes drifted back toward the kitchen window toward Shane.
“I-I don't have much in Russia anymore,” he admitted quietly.
“But when I'm with him...” Ilya swallowed. “I forget.”
About the loneliness.
The distance.
His home country.
“Being with him feels like home.”
The words were barely above a whisper, yet they carried more weight than anything else he'd said all night.
He choked out a laugh.
“Which is ridiculous because he is Shane.”
David couldn’t help but laugh.
“Fair.”
“But it's true.” Ilya's expression softened, “And I don’t think I’d be the mean Russian hockey player I am without him.”
Through the window, Shane looked up, as if sensing he was being watched.
His eyes immediately found Ilya’s and he smiled.
Without thinking, Ilya smiled back.
“I'd do anything to keep him happy,” he admitted.
And David believed him.
Not because Ilya Rozanov was perfect, but because he loved his son with such earnestly.
David smiled softly opening his mouth to say something before the back door slid open.
“Hey,” Shane said. Then, turning to Ilya, “Ready to go?”
David watched the Russian finish the last of his drink before striding over to Shane. Ilya found his hand and immediately intertwined their fingers.
Since the summer before their rookie year, David shook his head in disbelief.
“See you tomorrow, Dad?” Shane asked, pulling him from his thoughts.
Looking up, David smiled.
“Yep. We'll see you boys then.”
A few minutes later, David and Yuna followed them out to the driveway.
Yuna wrapped an arm through David's as they stood together watching the two hockey players make their way toward the car.
“Call us when you guys are on your way tomorrow,” Shane called out from the driver's side.
“Yep, we'll text you guys,” Yuna replied.
Ilya immediately let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Uh, no. Please call.”
“Oh—”
Shane flushed and David chuckled knowingly, resting a hand on Yuna’s back.
“Don’t worry, we’ll call,” He assured.
With that, Ilya and Shane got into the car, their hands finding each other over the center console immediately once more.
Their hands found each other across the center console almost immediately, as if neither of them even thought about it anymore.
Ilya lifted Shane's hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, then murmured the three little words David would could recognize quite well.
I love you.
Shane's smile widened instantly.
The tension that had been sitting in his shoulders when they first arrived melted away, replaced by something warm and content.
And David felt something in his chest loosen as Yuna squeezed his arm.
They were watching someone who had spent years loving their son in a thousand small ways no one else had been allowed to see until this very moment.
And as the car disappeared down the road, David kept watching long after the taillights vanished from view.