Chapter Text
It was good, ultimately, that they were together when they found out.
True, it made things more awkward at first. All three of them knew that Shane was in love with Ilya Rozanov, but only two of them knew that Rozanov loved him back. And only one of them knew that, the last time they’d seen one another, they’d fought so badly that Shane was fairly sure, even after reassurances, that Ilya might break up with him. Which all complicated things.
But it was good that the three were together, silently poking at their phones and sitting in the back few rows of the bus en route to the hotel, as they usually did, when J.J. saw the news flash. He was so caught off guard that he didn’t even think how the information would impact his friend across the aisle and exclaimed bluntly, “Holy shit, the Centaurs’ plane had to make an emergency landing!”
“What?” Shane’s voice was soft, his expression wide as he looked to J.J., and Hayden spoke at the same time, “What the fuck did you just say?”
J.J. spoke more carefully now, realizing as he glanced at his friends that Shane would hear and receive this all very differently than anyone else. He hadn’t told anyone, but J.J. had seen his friend with the Centaurs’ captain at their summer camp last season, watched them in press conferences for the charity they had started together, and he’d seen what he was sure no one else had.
Shane was in love with his very platonic business partner and friend, and J.J. had just callously mentioned that this friend had maybe been in a little plane crash.
“It says that everyone is fine, but there was some kind of mechanical issue, and they had to make an emergency landing. But everyone is ok.”
Shane’s face had gone very pale, his mouth slightly agape, his breathing slow but ragged. “…emergency landing?”
“Yes,” J.J. spoke quickly. “But everyone is fine.”
The rest of the bus had heard as well and burst into a flurry of conversation as people started checking Twitter and news sites for more information, for lurid details or firsthand accounts of the drama.
“Karma, man. That’s what they get for signing fucking Barrett,” J.J. heard Comeau joke near the front of the bus and cringed, hoping Shane was too far away or too in his own head to have heard the glee and laughter that had bubbled up in response.
Hayden, meanwhile, leaned over to his best friend, who had begun to curl in on himself by the window, staring at his phone, waves of realization and horror washing visibly over his face. “Hey, buddy,” he whispered so softly that even J.J. could barely hear him. “He’s ok.” Hayden glanced subtly around to make sure no one was looking before he reached over and grabbed Shane’s knee, squeezing it once. “He’s ok, alright?”
J.J. watched as Shane nodded numbly and, hands shaking, started texting frantically for a few minutes before leaning his forehead against the cool window, closing his eyes.
Hayden’s hands were on his own phone, thumbs flying. J.J. squinted as he leaned over, not even trying to hide that he was attempting to read Hayden’s messages but could only see that he was texting with his wife, which, fair, lots of the guys were probably texting their WAGs after the news; it was the kind of thing that either set everyone on edge or kicked in their appetite for gossip.
But that exchange with Shane was… weird. Like maybe J.J. wasn’t the only one who had noticed after all. Hayden glanced over to J.J., and they exchanged tense, silent nods. Yes, we protect the captain. Obviously.
When the bus arrived at their hotel ten minutes later, the team rolled out of the vehicle as though nothing had happened, tone a little surly, but that was typical after a lost like the one to Washington. If anything, the distraction of the Centaurs’ near tragedy had lightened the general mood a bit. J.J. scoffed at them. Assholes.
Shane, Hayden, and J.J. eventually rose, the last ones off, Hayden grabbing Shane’s bag for him and motioning for Shane to go ahead of him, murmuring, “Go call him, man, I’ve got this.” Shane moved mechanically down the few steps and across the parking lot, where he crouched on a small grass island, phone to his ear and hand pulling through his hair with his back to them. It was dark, but J.J. could see a few moments later when he pulled the phone away from his ear, the light from a FaceTime call creating the glow of a halo around his head in the distance.
J.J. and Hayden stood near the end of the bus, keeping one watchful eye on their friend and another on the door to the hotel that the team had just entered, as Hayden hopped onto a call of his own and began digging through Shane’s bag.
“Hey, babe. Yeah, I’m looking for it now.” He continued rooting through the duffel, eventually pulling out Shane’s passport. “Ok, yeah, I’ve got it, let me know if you need the number. And yeah, get me one too. I don’t think he should fly alone.”
J.J. realized in dawning horror what was happening and grabbed Hayden’s arm. “What the fuck are you doing?” He knew his hiss sounded angrier than it needed to be but seriously, what the actual fuck was Hayden doing.
Hayden froze, like he hadn’t realized J.J. was standing next to him the entire time. “Um…” His eyes were wide, and J.J. could watch his brain attempting to navigate complicated algorithms and cover stories.
J.J.’s eyes narrowed as he leaned in. “Do you know something?”
Hayden hesitated. “Do you know something?”
“Yeah I know something.”
“Well I know something too.”
A voice, words indistinguishable, continued through Hayden’s phone. “Yeah, babe, it’s just J.J.” Pause. “Yeah, he says he knows.” Another pause and a resigned sigh. “I’m taking him down there, man. You know he’s going to be a mess until he sees that he’s ok with his own eyes.” It was a lot of he’s being thrown around, but no one needed to specify who they were referencing.
“You really think that’s a good idea? Encouraging that?” J.J. gestured wildly across the parking lot.
Hayden frowned. “The horse is kind of out of the barn, man, whether we encourage it or not.”
“Yeah, but… like making him think this is normal? How’s it going to look when you get down there?” Shane was clearly hysterical, freaking out, over an infatuation that would go nowhere. And that really sucked, and J.J. wished he’d brought it up earlier to Shane directly, so he could help his friend through his funk more openly, rather than just repeatedly offering up various personal trainers and part-time models and beefy bartenders as sexy tributes. But what Hayden was doing, not just knowing about Shane’s infatuation but actively making him think this was totally normal friend behavior, to completely break down over a buddy, like Rozanov wouldn’t think it was weird as fuck when they showed up? That was not ok. At best, Hayden was setting Shane up for heartbreak and at worst, he was setting him up for humiliation so severe he couldn’t come back from it.
“I know, man, I get it. And we’ll figure that out. But like if this happened to Jackie, I’d want to be there. I’d be a fucking mess until I could see her again.” More inaudible talking, higher pitched this time, reached J.J.’s ears. “I love you too, babe.”
“Yeah, but Rozanov, man… he’s gonna think it’s weird as hell. How the fuck is that helping the captain?”
“Nah, he was texting Jackie earlier, she thinks he needs this too.”
J.J. froze. “Wait, when was Shane texting Jackie?”
“Not Shane, Roz. He and Jackie are friends. It’s fucking weird - YES, babe, it’s weird - but as much as I hate to admit it, he doesn’t actually totally suck all the time, and she thinks he needs to see Shane, too, so-” Hayden froze, gaze narrowing on J.J. who appeared to have short-circuited, his own eyes widening in the opposite of his friend’s.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” J.J. hissed.
“Shane and Roz, man. What we’ve been talking about. What do you think we’re talking about?”
“Shane being in love with Roz.”
“Yes. And…?”
“No ‘and.’ It sucks for Shane, but you’re not helping by making him think it’s normal to react like this when your friend isn’t even actually hurt, and if you think Roz isn’t going to think it’s weird when you-”
“‘Friend,’ what are you-” Hayden interrupted before Jackie’s voice carried through just a little bit again, and Hayden’s eyes became very, very panicked, as his voice became very, very quiet. “You told me you knew!”
J.J. leaned in and matched his voice to Hayden’s, like this was the part that required secrecy and not the conversation they’d just been having about their captain being in love with Ilya Goddamn Rozanov. That was fine, apparently. “Yes, I know that Shane’s in love with Rozanov, but… are you saying you know something different?”
“Fuuuuucccckkkk!” Hayden dragged the word over several seconds. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR THE SWEAR JAR, BABE!” Hayden took a deep breath. “They’re going to fucking kill me.” He rolled his neck one full rotation before speaking again. “Yes, Shane’s got a thing for Rozanov, but Rozanov also has a thing for Shane. Shane and Roz… are a thing. Like a serious thing, which I get it, it’s fucking weird. And I thought you knew, but apparently you didn’t, and that will need to be a conversation, but for right now, you need to know that Jackie is getting tickets for me and Shane to fly to Florida in an hour and then we’ll meet everyone in Nashville tomorrow afternoon. Can you let Coach know? Say it’s a family thing or something?”
J.J.’s eyes settled across the parking lot, where Shane had hung up the phone but was still crouched, his silhouette dark, head down, hands at the back of his neck. Fatigued, trying to make himself smaller, hide how exposed he clearly felt. Because he and Roz were a thing. Not a one way thing but an actual… thing. Shit.
J.J. hated Florida. The humidity fucked up his skin, and they had those giant snakes that weren’t even supposed to be there but some idiot Florida men had set them free and the swamps there were so fucked that they thrived. J.J. set his jaw, determined, before he responded. “Tell Jackie to get three tickets.” He reached into his bag and confirmed his passport was there. “It will be harder for Coach to punish all of his captains. I’m going with you.”
He nodded his head definitively.
Hayden nodded back.
**********
When they reached Shane, J.J. had already called an Uber and Jackie had sent Hayden their ticket confirmations.
Hayden crouched down in front of Shane. “Hey, buddy.”
Shane looked up at him, eyes red and hollow, Hayden’s presence barely registering. “He’s ok.” His voice was barely audible as Hayden reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.
“I know, bud. He’s ok.” Hayden smiled gently, like he would with one of the kids after a bad dream. “Want to go see him?”
Shane’s gaze became more focused, confusion across his face. “Huh?”
“Jackie got us tickets. We leave for Orlando in an hour, and then it’s like an hour and a half drive. You can see your guy, he can see you, and then we’ll meet up with the team tomorrow for the game. Easy peasy.”
“We’re going to go see him?” Shane’s voice was so small that Hayden felt like he really could be talking to Arthur or Amber in that moment.
“Yeah, we’re gonna go see him. Jay’s got a car on the way, he’ll text Coach once we’re headed to the airport, let him know you’ve got a family emergency or something, and we’re going with.”
Shane’s eyes got wider as he finally registered that J.J. was standing to his left, arms crossed, legs in a wide stance. He turned his face up to his friend, trying to find words. “Jay, I, um…”
J.J. stopped him with a palm held out. “Not now. We’ll talk later. Right now, we get to the airport, we get on the plane, that’s it.” He nodded firmly.
Shane nodded back, barely, his voice a whisper. “Ok.”
“You wanna let Roz know?” Hayden asked gently, pulling Shane’s attention back to his reassuring smile, Dad Mode fully activated.
Shane held his phone up numbly. “My phone’s dead.” He shook his head, next steps completely lost on him.
“I’ll text him then, ok? And we can get you charged up again on the plane. Jackie got us business class, so I’m sure they’ll have those little charging ports.”
Shane nodded once, twice. He didn’t have energy for much except following instructions just then.
**********
The trip to the airport passed in silence. If their Uber driver was surprised or concerned to be picking up three tense, incredibly large men in high end suits at 10:00 at night, he didn’t let on. Probably he’d had weirder trips as a driver in D.C., and Hayden said a silent prayer of thanks that he didn’t recognize them or, if he did, he didn’t seem to care.
As was the plan, J.J. texted Coach. A family emergency wasn’t entirely inaccurate, J.J. knew now, but also felt risky, if their actual destination got found out. So he had told a slightly vaguer story - Coach. Pike, Hollander, and me will meet the team in Nashville tomorrow. Small emergency but can explain more later.
J.J.’s phone rang almost instantly. Of course. Theriault was going to demand more information, but J.J. had kind of planned it that way and was glad it was a call. He was better in person than in writing.
He answered quickly in French. He didn’t know if the driver could speak French or not, but it felt slightly more covert, and he was more comfortable in French anyway.
“Hey, Coach.”
“You three ok? Anyone hurt?”
“Yeah, everyone’s fine. We just… need to go to Florida.”
“Everyone is fine but you need to go to Florida.” Theriault’s tone could turn men to stone. “Are you fucking with me right now, Boiziau?”
J.J. sighed. “No.”
“What the fuck are you three doing that you are just going to ‘go to Florida’ and ‘meet the team in Nashville’ and think that’s fine?”
Hayden’s French was shit, but he would know enough to know J.J. was talking to Coach and could probably hear the angry tone through the phone, even if he couldn’t make out the words. Shane’s eyes were closed, leaning against the window on the other side of Hayden, and J.J. hoped he was lost enough in his own thoughts to not be catching any of the conversation.
J.J. tried to turn on his most charming tone, hoping the smile he was forcing would carry through the call. “You know we worked with some of the Cens from those camps Hollzy runs. So we figure we will go see them, show our support.” He paused. He knew it would seem like an empty reason to their Coach personally, but he also knew there was one aspect of Shane’s recent charitable work that their coach couldn’t deny. “It seemed like a good gesture, you know? Good PR for the charity, good PR for the team…” Montreal didn’t have trouble filling seats, because Montreal was good at winning. But their reputation otherwise was… less great.
There were maybe five or six guys the PR team liked to send out to public appearances, and three of them were in the same car right now. The rest of the team was a risk, as likely to hit on a female reporter or swear aggressively around the young fans who asked for photos. The Irina Foundation had been a gift placed in the laps of the Voyageurs’ marketing crew. Shane had said that their social media manager, Madeleine, literally cried when she found out, and she didn’t seem to give a shit about the actual work the charity was doing; probably she was just happy to have more pictures of smiling kids with actual players and not just their mascot, Vincent Le Voyageur, in his oversized foam admiral’s bicorn hat.
A mental health charity probably made him roll his eyes, but their coach couldn’t deny that the Irina Foundation was good for the Voyageurs.
It was the right card to play. “Fine. Go, get your photos. I’ll let the PR team know.” J.J. sagged in relief into the seat of the car. “But if you pricks pull another move like this without telling me, there will be consequences next time. Big ones.”
“Yes, Coach. Of course.”
Theriault hung up without saying good bye.
Hayden looked to J.J., raising his eyebrows in question, clearly not wanting to speak and disturb Shane, or give anything away to their driver.
“We’re good,” was all J.J. said in response, and then turned to look out his window, the airport quickly coming into view ahead of them.
**********
They made it through security quickly, and Hayden was quietly grateful for the second time that night that Washington wasn’t much of a hockey town, as they slid through the line without as much as a raised eyebrow or smile in response to their names - ok, no response to Shane’s because it took a particularly die hard hockey fan to recognize J.J.’s legal name, or to recognize Hayden at all, anywhere besides Montreal.
They rushed to their gate, which of course was at the far end of the terminal. The boarding pass scanner pinged one, two, three times, and they continued moving, barely breaking stride as they made their way to their seats in the second row of the plane. Hayden waved Shane to the window seat and then sat down next to him, as J.J. took the seat across the aisle. Just as they’d been on the bus, as they always were, really. Shane and Hayden, and then also J.J.
Of course Hayden had known all along, J.J. couldn’t help but think a little bitterly. But now wasn’t a great time for anger, so he grabbed Shane’s and Hayden’s duffle bags, shoving them in the overhead bin above them, before storing his own and sitting down.
The flight attendants had already begun the routines that J.J. knew meant they’d be closing the door in a few minutes, as a teenage boy and his mother literally ran in. The tall, stocky red-headed boy was rolling his eyes at something his smaller mother was saying, and J.J. and Hayden both clocked as his eyes landed and lit briefly on Shane, who was, fortunately, completely oblivious as he looked fruitlessly for a port to plug his charging cord into. The boy’s glance moved from Shane to Hayden to J.J., his eyebrows raising, even as he didn’t stop making his way past them. J.J. had just mentally registered the crossed hockey sticks encircled by the words Whitefish Bay Wolves on his shirt, when the back of the plane suddenly exploded into hollers and cheesy wolf howls and applause.
“Jonesy!”
“Cap’s here!”
“Where the hell were you?”
“Bro, your mom’s so mad!”
J.J. and Hayden caught one another’s eyes. Shane was still in his own head, visibly frustrated that his phone would, in fact, not be charged on this flight, and had missed what J.J. and Hayden both just realized.
They may not have been spotted at the airport, but they had just been spotted on their plane.
They’d been spotted on their plane by the captain of a youth hockey team.
They’d been spotted on their plane by the captain of a youth hockey team, whose entire team was also on the plane.
Hayden grimaced as J.J. sighed. He got out his phone and texted Hayden so as to not alert Shane.
J.J.: Good thing I spun this to coach as a PR move
Hayden: should we warn him
J.J.: No tell him to get some sleep and we can try to get off the plane fast when we land
Hayden nodded in agreement. A borderline catatonic Shane Hollander on the way to see his secret boyfriend who had almost died, surrounded by a group of teenage hockey fans. What could possibly go wrong?
Hayden waved to the flight attendant who had started walking past them doing final cabin checks. “Hi, excuse me… Emily,” he read off of her name tag, "I know this will make me sound like a real impatient asshole, but can I put in the order for a couple of black coffees now, for as soon as the drinks start up?”
Maybe it was Business Class treatment, or maybe Hayden’s perpetual Nice Cute Canadian Dad energy worked, because she smiled at him and winked. “Sure thing. Long night?”
“Yes, Emily. Yes it is.”
Interlude
Shane’s face disappeared abruptly from Ilya’s phone, and he exhaled, grateful that Shane had told him his battery was close to dying, or Ilya might have thought the universe was really against him and another awful thing had happened tonight, and Shane had been abducted by aliens or at least had such a severe panic attack that he’d dropped and broken his phone.
The exhaustion in Ilya’s body was still heavy and all-encompassing, the waning adrenaline from the earlier near death experience being replaced by the horrible emptiness that he always felt when he and Shane hung up these days. It was the hollowness of missing Shane, of course, but after every call, he would find himself wishing he could just tell people he missed his boyfriend, wondering if that might make it easier. To be able to joke like Wyatt or Bood about stupid pictures they were taking, because they knew they would make their wives laugh. To be able to explain he wasn’t headed back to his hotel room because he was anti-social - even if he was a little anti-social these days, even if he didn’t want to think into that too much - but because he was going to call his boyfriend. Even, after the events of the past few weeks, to be able to say “Shane and I had a big fight, and it made me tired.” It seemed like that might lift some of the weight.
Especially today, when everyone had gotten off the plane and rushed to call their families, when the bus had been one giant cacophony of overlapping FaceTime calls, it just would be nice to be able to let people know he did actually have that, too. Even with Shane in his game, Ilya could have been talking openly to David or Yuna or Jackie Pike, instead of just texting them quietly as he had been, if he didn’t have to be worried about people wondering why those were the people he wanted to connect with after almost dying. If he just didn’t have to worry about people connecting dots that honestly should be pretty obvious to anyone paying enough attention.
At least now, when he went back inside, Ilya could be fairly sure that everyone was done with their calls and now were just in the bar getting drunk. And that felt like a social activity he could handle today.
His phone pinged with a note from Marley - shit man just got out of our game and saw the news, u ok?
Ilya lit another cigarette and let it hang from his mouth, soothingly, as he responded quickly - yes, we are ok, just tired now. Thanks for checking. I am going to turn off phone alerts so if I do not answer, it does not mean plane came back and hit me for real this time.
He turned off all alerts, as he’d said, leaving them on only for Shane, in case he wanted to text or call after he got into his hotel and his phone was working again. Then, he copied and pasted the message he had sent to Cliff and texted it to Svetlana, whose increasingly irritated messages he hadn’t responded to yet. And then, he typed and rapidly sent another message three times - I was able to talk to Shane and that helped, he is ok too. I am going to turn off phone alerts and go be with team so do not worry if I do not answer - to David, Yuna, and Jackie individually. And then one final text to Shane - you can call or text again when your phone is charged if you want, but is ok if you need to rest, I will be with the guys. I love you
He shoved his phone back into his pocket and finished his cigarette outside in peace, the fingers of one hand in his pocket, finding that small, familiar piece of chunky circular plastic that he slipped onto the end of his pinky, safely concealed, just until he was ready to go back inside. Then he headed in to rally and captain his team, and never got an alert of the series of texts that were sent to him.
☠️ Pike ☠️: hey man Shane is ok but also sort of not ok
☠️ Pike ☠️: Jackie got us tickets and JJ Shane and me are flying to Orlando then driving to Tampa
☠️ Pike ☠️: should get to you around 2:00 tonight
☠️ Pike ☠️: well see you then. guessing you are at the usual hotel there?
☠️ Pike ☠️: Hope this doesnt make things weird for you with the Cens but I think he needs to see you