Chapter Text
Shane was at Ultraviolet with Rose. He should be happy, he should be having a good time, but he just can’t stop thinking about a certain Russian hockey player. The previous night, he and Rose had gone out for dinner, where Rose sat Shane down and had told him that he was gay and that this relationship was clearly not going to go anywhere. Shane could admit that he was a little shocked, but he was so happy that Rose had been okay with him. It seemed like she had a track record for dating gay men, so he wasn’t all that surprised.
Shane had wanted to let loose tonight. He knew that Ilya was still probably super pissed and wanted nothing to do with him, so he thought that if he drank enough, maybe it would make him forget all about the blonde haired boy.
Shane had a beer in his hand and was dancing with Rose on the dance floor as she pointed out hot men to Shane. Okay, maybe she was too supportive, but he was grateful nonetheless.
“I’m going to see if I can find the bathroom.” Shane had to shout so he could make sure that Rose had heard him. He didn’t need to go to the bathroom, but he just wanted some space for now. Breathing room. Rose was lovely, but it was getting a bit much for Shane. Dammit, he really wanted to forget about all this mess.
“Oh, are you okay?” Rose had to shout too, but Shane was grateful that she seemed to actually care about him.
“Yeah I’m fine. I’ll see you in a minute.” And with that, Shane had stalked off to find the bathroom. What he did not expect was to find the one person he couldn’t get out of his head.
In front of him, Ilya Rozanov was dancing with, what was probably a beautiful woman, but all Shane could focus on was how Ilya’s hands were wrapped around her waist, and how his mouth was kissing the side of her neck. All Shane could do was stare. Ilya didn’t know that him and Rose had broken up, and he knew that obviously him and Ilya weren’t together, but it still had hurt to see him dance with a stranger.
It was at that moment that Ilya had looked up to see Shane staring back at him. Ilya clearly saw the look of pained jealousy on Shane’s face because right then, he spun the dancing girl around to give her a sloppy kiss. Shane knew what it was like to be touched, to be kissed by Ilya, and knew that the girl should be calling herself lucky. He knew he would have been. The girl stopped kissing Ilya to spin back around and push up against his chest. Just then, it was like everything had slowed down.
Ilya was staring at Shane dead in the eyes now. Shane could see that Ilya wasn’t moving either, just letting the girl get all up on him. Shane couldn’t watch anymore.
Shane painfully teared his eyes away from Ilya and headed to the back wall, where he hoped the bathrooms were. He found the men’s and as soon as the door shut and locked behind him, he burst into tears.
Why would he do this? He definitely hates me now. Who does he think he is? That should’ve been me. The thoughts raced over and over again in Shane’s mind, and all he could think about was Ilya. The way his hair fell over his forehead and how soft his curls were when he pushed them back. How Ilya was always so greedy for Shane, grabbing at him as soon as they were alone. Shane knew this wasn’t healthy, knew he had to stop, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.
The tears were still racing down his cheeks as he tried to desperately wipe them away. After several minutes they began to slow and his breathing was beginning to even out. He never did this, like ever, but he knew that he needed to forget the whole night and drinking was his only escape right now.
He pushed his way through the crowds back to where Rose was now sitting with her friends.
“Hey, are you feeling better?” Concern was written all over her face and in her tone.
“Yeah, I’m good. How about I buy a round?” Shane never really liked the taste of alcohol but he sure as hell didn’t care about that right now. He attempted his best smile as all of Rose’s friends, Rose included, cheered their agreement. Shane nodded and headed towards the bar. He didn’t really know what people wanted, but most of them had beers, so Shane ordered 5 beers and 10 shots. He threw a shot into his mouth after he got them, then another one. The alcohol burned his throat, but he could only recognise that aftertaste. Vodka. It was a taste that Shane was all too familiar with. He threw back another 2 shots, throat still burning with the sensation from the previous ones.
He carried the tray of beers and remaining shots back to the table. Everyone said their thanks and began picking up the little glasses. They all cheers with their tiny cups and took the shots together. This was what Shane wanted. He wanted to forget. He knew that he wasn’t going to remember anything now.
********
Fuck. Shane saw him. Shane was here. Unless Ilya had imagined it, and it was just him wishing Shane would appear to stop him. Shane didn’t stop him though.
Ilya doesn’t know why he danced with that girl. Well, he knows why, he just doesn’t know what he was trying to do to Shane. Obviously he wanted to make him jealous, but he regretted everything when he saw how hurt Shane was. Maybe Ilya was deluded, but it looked like Shane was hurting, like he was missing him. But, of course, that was ridiculous.
Obviously, the dancing didn’t last long after that. The girl he was with noticed that he wasn’t moving and just looked at him before rolling her eyes and walking away. Whatever, it’s not like Ilya had actually wanted anything to happen, not with her anyway. He only really wanted one person. The person who was currently dating Rose fucking Landry. Whatever, he hates this feeling. Wanting what he knows that he can’t have. It was killing him
Now, he was stood at the bar nursing a boring American beer that did not taste good. He supposes there was a reason that he didn’t want to get drunk. Well, he knows the reason, he’s just got to convince himself that it will never happen. Just then, his phone vibrated multiple from inside his pocket. He reached for his phone and almost dropped it when he saw who had messaged him.
Unread Messages
Jane: 8 notifications
Ilya was going to be sick. He had wanted this, prayed for it for two months, prayed that Shane would message him, tell him how much he was missing him and how much he needs him. He knows Shane wouldn’t say this now, not when he’s with Rose. He had no choice, he was wanting this too much. He clicked on the notification as the text thread with Jane filled his screen
(Message conversation)
Jane
Jane:
Ikya
I know rhat u saw me
whst were u doinf wit her?
I wised it was me
Im not wit Rose amynore
Shir
Shit
canf spel
Ilya:
Jane, you are very drunk
You need to go home
Jane:
Thats nit my nsme
u cal ne Shane
Nooooo mm not drunj
Im not goinf hime
I onky go if u r therr
Ilya:
You are drunk
You do not want me
Call an uber and go home, Shane.
Jane:
Noooo pleade
Ilka
Ilya
Pleade I miss u
I midd u soooo much
Ilya:
Where is Rose?
Were you not with her?
Jane:
Nooo i tokd u
We brike up
Ilya:
Yes, but is she still in the club?
Jane:
Not anynre
She left wit her frends
Im alone Ilya
Itsso loud
Fuck. Fuck Rose Landry and her stupid fucking friends. They left Shane all alone, it is so clear that he is drunk and they just left him. Ilya knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stand around knowing that Shane was drunk and all alone.
(Message conversation)
Jane
Ilya:
Where are you Shane?
Jane:
In the floor
On
By toiets
Ilya didn’t wait for a response, he just abandoned his drink, left a 20 on the bar and headed towards the toilets. As soon as he approached, he saw a very drunk Shane Hollander sat on the floor, only being held up by the wall. His head was slumped forward, his phone casting a soft glow onto his face. Ilya crouched down so he was eye level with Shane. Ilya reached to nudged Shane’s shoulder.
“Shane.” He nudged him gently. Nothing. “Shane.” He shook him again, a little harder this time. Shane looked up and Ilya could see in his eyes how exhausted he was but also how happy he looked. He looked so happy.
“Ilyaaaa. You’re here!” Ilya couldn’t help but smile. This stupid boy was going to be the death of him.
“Yes, Shane, of course I come. I was not going to leave you alone. Not when you are… like this.” Ilya was so mad at Rose for leaving Shane when he clearly shouldn’t be alone right now but whatever, he needed to focus on the man in front of him. Ilya is grateful that he was smart and only had one beer the whole night that he only drank a quarter of.
“I’m so happy you’re here Ilya. I was drinking to forget you. Forget what you did… that girl. I thought that you would’ve gone home with her. But you didn’t. You are still here, and… and I’m happy. I am so happy that you are here. I missed you. I miss you all the time. So much.” Ilya knew Shane was drunk and knew that what he was saying probably didn’t mean anything, but Ilya couldn’t help but take it to heart. He wanted Shane so badly that it surely wasn’t healthy, but he didn’t care. Shane wouldn’t remember in the morning anyway, but he knew that Shane should not be alone right now.
“Come on Shane, we need to get you out of here.” He helped Shane rise to his feet and let him lean on him until they were outside the club. The cool air of the night was a relief compared to the inside of a stuffy club. Shane was putting all of his weight on Ilya, and even though he shouldn’t, Ilya never wanted to be separated from Shane ever again, not when he is this vulnerable. “Shane.” Ilya nudged Shane gently with his shoulder where Shane’s head was resting. “Shane, I need to get taxi. Where do you need to go?”
Shane mumbled under his breath but Ilya couldn’t hear what he was saying as his words were muffled by Ilya’s shoulder. They were in Montreal, where Shane lived, yet Ilya did not know where to take him. How to get him home safe. I should know where he lives. I should know this but I don’t and now I don’t know what to do. Was all Ilya could think in that moment. Ilya knew Shane was probably going to hate him in the morning, but he had no other option. It was going to be hard for Shane to leave the hotel without his team realising, but he’ll find a way. All that mattered in that moment was getting Shane safe.
“We will go back to my hotel room, da?” Ilya tried to communicate with Shane, and he supposed it had worked because he felt the nod of Shane’s head against him. Ilya thought it would be quicker to wait for a taxi than order one, so he shuffled him and Shane to the curb so he could wave a taxi down.
When a taxi pulled up less than a minute later, Ilya tried to get Shane into the car without jostling him so much. Ilya opened the door and started his quest. “Shane you need to move your head. Da, yes, good. No don’t move, ok, let me.” He pulled the seatbelt around Shane’s shoulder and torso so he could plug it into the other side. Once Shane was secured into the car, Ilya walked around to the other side and climbed in.
The taxi driver looked at Shane from the rearview mirror and then at Ilya. “He’s not gunna throw up is he?”
“Ah, no I do not think so,” Ilya responded, “I will tip big. The Carlton please.” The taxi driver didn’t seem to argue with the promise of the big tip and started driving towards the hotel. Ultraviolet was only five minutes away from the hotel, and there was no traffic which made the trip quicker. The ride was fairly quiet, only the hum of the engine breaking the silence of the night. Once the car had come to a stop, Ilya thanked the driver and handed him a couple of 100 bills and exited the car.
He walked around the car to Shane’s door and opened it, Shane nearly falling out from where he had been leant against the window. “Woah, careful.” Ilya reached over Shane and unplugged his belt, saying a final thank you to the driver, who just thumbs-upped in response as he put his arm around Shane and under his arm to lift him out of the car. Ilya kicked the door closed and watched the drive away into the night. At that moment, Shane finally looked at Ilya for the first time since he had found him on the club floor.
“Ilya…” That was all he appeared to say, so Ilya urged him to continue.
“Yes Shane, are you okay?” Shane looked at him with glassy eyes and a dopey grin.
“Yesssss, I’m sooooo good,” and then he gave what could only be described as a giggle as Ilya looked at him. “Mmmm can’t wait to have you again,” Shane hiccuped then continued “been waiting so long.” Ah. It was clear what Shane had wanted to happen, but Ilya couldn’t take it seriously. He’s drunk and doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He just had to keep reminding himself of that.
“Shane. You need to sleep, come on.” And with that Ilya led a very drunk Shane Hollander to his hotel room. Ilya had been in the same hotel room as Shane multiple times, with the promise of a fun night and nothing more. This was different though, and Ilya knew it. This time, there wasn’t going to be anywhere to run to, and there wasn’t going to be any fun, no matter how much Ilya craved it. He would never take advantage of Shane like this, even if he wanted it.
Once they got to Ilya’s room, Ilya opened the door with his key card and led Shane to the closest bed where he immediately collapsed onto the bed. Ilya opened his suitcase and found a pair of joggers and a Boston Bears shirt. Perfect. He walked back over to where Shane was laying and tried to get him to sit up.
“Shane, we need to get you changed okay?” Shane just started smiling so wide you would think he just won the Stanley Cup.
“Yes Sir.” He saluted at Ilya and then started to giggle again “Are you gunna take your clothes off too?” Shane was fluttering his eyelashes and Ilya and Ilya had to try very very hard to not think about what he wanted to do to Shane.
“Shane. We are not doing that, okay? You need to sleep. Maybe in morning, da?” Ilya knew he was being optimistic with that comment but if he could convince himself, it would be easier to fall asleep, hopefully with Shane lying right next to him, even if he didn’t remember what happened in the morning and regretted ever messaging Ilya. Shane didn’t look like he approved of Ilya’s method.
“Ugh, you’re so boring Rozanov.” Shane reached out to where Ilya was stood and did grabby hands at him. Ilya took a step towards Shane. “Fine. But you should still sleep with me. I want you to hold me.” And if Ilya’s vision was starting to blur, he was most certainly going to deny it.
“Okay Shane, I will hold you, but you must change.” And with that, Ilya started to help Shane to get out of his club clothes, pulling his shirt over his head and replacing it with the Bears merch, and helping Shane out of his jeans in replacement for joggers.
Once Shane was sorted out, Ilya got himself changed into some joggers but didn’t bother with a t-shirt. He planned to have a shower in the morning and he only had one other clear shirt. He pulled the covers back and climbed into the bed next to Shane, but not before positioning the hotel bin next to Shane’s side just in case. Shane turned around in the bed to face Ilya.
“Thank you. For coming.” Ilya could tell how grateful Shane was just from the way he whispered it into the space between them. He shuffled closer to Shane, placing a gentle hand across his beautiful freckles.
“Of course.” Ilya responded and then reached his hand around to the back of Shane’s head, pulling him close to his chest, feeling Shane’s breaths getting calmer. Sleep eventually overtook Ilya as he held Shane close to him.
There was something that Ilya had forgotten about though, but he wouldn’t remember until the morning that he had teammates, one of which was sharing a room with him.