Chapter Text
William Hollander objectively knew that concussions and broken collarbones were bad.
As a kid, who had doctors joking they should name the emergency room after him, he knew injuries were never a good thing. Except these injuries meant his most favorite person in the world was home for a bit longer than the hockey season would usually allow. And the fact that he needed help meant that he couldn’t careless escape as easily to his own private cottage.
“Do you want more ginger ale?"
The family was about to sit down to watch the Stanley cup game. If the Admirals won tonight, it would be over and it would prove his mom right. Shane however was texting. Someone named Lily, William had titled his head to read only a bit of the message. He wasn’t supposed to be using his phone that much but William wouldn’t tell.
“Shane,” this came from their mom. And then in her warning voice, “Shane,”
Shane’s fingers were still typing as Lily sent a dinosaur emoji. If his parents ever allowed him to have a phone-he was the only one in his grade not to have one, all of his pleas fell on deaf ears. Mom said Shane had been fourteen when he’d been allowed a phone. Will wanted to reply that times were much different in two thousand and six than two thousand and sixteen, but it was useless. If he had phone, he rather thought he’d like using the dinosaur emoji too.
“What?” Shane’s face scrunched up, and then a bit more annoyed, “huh?”
“Your brother asked you a question,”
Shane looked up from his phone. There was still a bit of bruising around his face but much less so than there had been.
“Ginger-ale?” Will pointed at the can beside him, “you need more?”
“No thanks Willie,”
Will wanted to tell him that he did not like that nickname anymore. He wasn’t a little kid but every time he tried, he couldn’t get the words out. Before he could say anything else, the puck was about to be dropped. Will was about as big of a hockey fan as his mother and brother, so his attention was drawn to the television.
The only one in the family to remain somewhat silent when the refs made a bad call was his Dad. Despite playing hockey at McGill, his dad usually let them do all the yelling at the TV. Let me give the poor refs’ ears a break huh? He would always joke. Will rather thought that joke was still funny compared to some of the other ones he constantly repeated.
“I told you your mother’s a witch,” Dad announced when the timer for the third period was winding down. The Admirals and Scott Hunter were going to win just as Mom had said weeks ago. William watched as the New York Admirals’ family members descended the stands, and tried not to be jealous. He’d been on that ice, cheering and celebrating the last two years. He missed school because of it, and he’d brought back so many pictures to show his jealous classmates. William settled back onto the sofa.
“Bed time?” Mom tried to tell him but Dad handed her a wine glass as Scott Hunter, the Admirals captain, did something odd. He skated up to the edge of the rink beckoning down for a fan to come to the ice.
“What’s he doing?” Will asked Shane but Shane’s eyes were on his phone.
The question was answered by Scott Hunter tugging the fan along and then kissing him on center ice. Will had never seen that happen before on hockey, and by the looks on his family members’ faces, they hadn’t either. All of their mouths hung open and then Shane was retreating to the next room.
Later, Will tried to keep asking his mom what it all meant because it must have meant something.
“That must be Scott Hunter’s boyfriend,” his mom told him tugging up the comforter, “and what he did was extremely brave,”
“Brave?”
“Yes honey. In hockey and the world sometimes isn’t nice to everyone,” his mom gave his forehead a kiss, “what he did probably means a lot to people and we will talk about this more in the morning,”
In the morning, there was terrible news shared over breakfast. No not about Scott Hunter or hockey in any shape or form. His brother was going on what sounded like a nightmare. A silent retreat as in not talking for two weeks.
“Why the hell would you want to do that?” Will asked as he squeezed more maple syrup onto his waffles. Shane scowled at him, as his dad gently pried the bottle from his sticky hands. He ignored his mom scolding him for his language. Hell was not in his opinion the worst word he could have used.
“Its supposed to be meditative,”
That sounded suspiciously like a grown-up synonym for boring.Who could not talk for two weeks? He did not think he could stop talking for two hours nonetheless two whole weeks.
“"But... why?"
Shane shrugged,"It helps people clear their minds."
Will looked around the table in disbelief.Who wanted their mind clear?His mind was full of useful things.Hockey statistics.Video game strategies.The fact that dinosaurs had feathers.Three different jokes he hadn't gotten a chance to tell yet.The idea of sitting quietly with nothing to do but think sounded less like a vacation and more like a punishment invented by medieval kings.
"You can't talk at all?" he asked.
"No."
"You can't text?"
"No."
"Read?"
"Sure,”
"Watch hockey?"
"No."
Will's eyes widened in horror,"What do you even do?"
"Think."
That was somehow the worst answer yet.\
"But I think while I'm talking."
Dad snorted into his coffee.Mom pressed her lips together.Even Shane's mouth twitched, "Shane is an adult," Mom reminded him, settling beside Dad. "Adults are allowed to do things they enjoy."
"I don't think he enjoys it," Will said.
"I do."
"You literally just described two weeks of nothing."
"It's not nothing."
"It sounds exactly like nothing."
Dad chose that moment to join the conversation,"When you're an adult, you can go on a silent retreat too."
Will immediately scrunched up his nose,"I'd never do that."
Breakfast proceeded as normal then. Shane ate his gross smoothie that looked like grass. Will tried to bargain for more waffles, which failed as usual. He tried to ask to try coffee, also denied. As he was clearing the table, his attention caught the calendar mom made every year. There in the third week of the month was his picture, indicating his birthday. He loudly dropped the plate onto the counter, ripped it from the magnet, and began counting. His eleventh birthday fell during the retreat. Shane was going to miss his birthday?
The last two years even though he was angry about Shane not being there on his actual birthday, he could excuse it. Shane was winning the cup, but seriously he was going to miss his birthday for some stupid silence? He marched back into the dinning room.
“You’re going to miss my birthday?” he tried not to sound like he was going to cry.
“Willie…,” Shane rose taking the calendar and doing the same math, “fuck,”
“Shane…,”
“Sorry,” Shane said to their mom before he looked up, “Willie I’m sorry I didn’t..,”
The nickname didn't even bother Will this time.Not when Shane looked like that. He bit down on his lower lip, blinking and sniffing, “you forgot?”
"Willie, I'm sorry."
The apology sounded real.Not the kind adults gave because they were supposed to.The kind that meant something.Shane rubbed a hand over the back of his neck,"Look, I'll see if I can end the retreat early, okay?"
Will wondered what could stop him. Was he going somewhere for the retreat? He thought Shane said his cottage which was only about thirteen minutes away.
"And if I can't..." Shane hesitated. "We'll do something the weekend after. Just us."
Will's arms loosened slightly,"Like what?"
"Anything."
"Anything?"
"Within reason."
Mom intervened then, pulling him into her side, “we’ll be here for your birthday for sure and maybe Shane will be mediated out and he’ll be there,” her eyes had that serious-do not disobey me-look to them. Will felt a bit more settled then. Shane might be an adult but Mom was Mom, and no one could disobey that look. Shane would have to be at his birthday.
***
William lasted five days.
Five whole days with the company of only his middle-aged boomer parents who were trying to get him to enjoy nature instead of any of his gaming systems. He was going to start to climb the walls. Whatever that meant. Now,he was sprawled out upside down on the sofa, plotting. Not how to scale a wall but how he could escape to see Shane.
His presence would be a change from the past few days, wouldn't it? Shane hadn’t sent any messages, and despite finding funny stuff to send to Shane, William hadn’t. And now, he was thinking. He couldn’t just ask his parents to drive him to Shane’s. And he ruled out driving himself. He was almost eleven, and unfortunately not that tall. Mom and Dad kept telling him that Shane was the same, a late bloomer, and he ended up six feet tall. William was starting to think they were lying to make him feel better about being the fifth-shortest in his grade, of the boys and the girls.
He decided to execute his plan the next morning. Dad had to go check on finance things, and he told his mom he was going to bike across the way to Henry’s house. She knew Henry.. She wouldn’t question that Henry’s parents would let them hang out alone. If anything they were stricter than the Hollanders. So that was settled. Mom also had a bunch of phone calls to make about Shane’s sponsors. She’d be distracted all day. One of which was Rebook. Shane wouldn’t tell her but he hated those shoes. And for the record? So did Will. Except they kept giving him some every year. He had been creative about getting rid of them.
To make his plan seem more solid, he even had dad bring out his fishing rod as if they were going to spend the early morning fishing. It would give him enough time to bike the twelve miles to Shane’s cottage. He even had the route he’d take highlighted on a map, since, still no phone. He did promise he’d be home for dinner for birthday cake and candles. And if he went to Shane’s, he’d have to come back too.
***
Ilya Rozanov never wanted to leave the cottage in the middle of nowhere Ottawa.INot once.Not for food.Not for hockey.Not for civilization itself.The world beyond the trees could burn down for all he cared.For the first time in what felt like forever, everything was perfect.
He had confessed that he loved Shane. Something he had known for a long time but had finally said in English. He’d said it in Russian a few times, and Shane loved him back. He felt like he was floating on a bubble, he was loved both physically and as a person. He was in such bliss, pressing a gentle kiss to Shane’s neck before Shane shoved him against a tree and began to attack Ilya’s neck. With the way he was sucking, he’d leave a mark but Ilya found he could care less. They continued, rutting against each other as the sun rose higher in the sky.
“I thought you wanted to fuck in every room in your house,” Ilya breathed and that was enough to get Shane to move away, and grab his hand tugging Ilya forward and back towards the house.
As they approached, Shane stopped abruptly. Ilya nearly knocked into him.
“Sh-...,” Ilya followed his gaze to the sight of a person who looked like Little Shane. As if someone had thrown him into the dryer and had forgotten him there. The boy was even wearing a Hollander jersey that was at least two sizes too big.He was sitting on the porch looking extremely bored until he noticed them. He smiled brightly at Shane before frowning, “is that-
“My brother…,” Shane hissed before beginning to move.
Ilya was not told explicitly to not follow. And he’d always been curious about the littlest Hollander. The one they hid from the cameras, and the one that Shane rarely mentioned in interviews. My mom doesn’t want him on the internet. And Shane, like the good boy he was, listened.
“Will-
That was when a tennis ball thrown by the tiny Hollander whirled around and smacked Ilya just under the left eye.Pain exploded and he whirled clutching his face. If he had not spent the night, well not sleeping, maybe he would have caught the damned thing.
“Bylat!” Ilya cried, clutching the side of his face, continuing to curse in Russian. As he was doing so he could hear Shane.
“Oh my god!” and then to his brother, “William Hudson Hollander what the hell?”
Very parental kotik, Ilya thought as he blinked. Shane’s little brother had Shane’s face though his cheeks were a bit fuller, his face had more freckles than Shane, and behind thick glasses his eyes were hazel. A nerdy little Shane. He was glowering at Ilya with Shane’s angry cat face, with his small fists bunched up at his sides.
“Rozanov is here!” the boy said as if that explained it, “he’s your enemy!”
Ilya poorly disguised a cough as a snort. Shane glared at him before looking at his brother.
“I know he’s here,” Shane said, “he’s here as my guest-
“Did he kidnap you?” William's head whipped back toward Ilya so quickly that several freckles seemed to move with him,“was the silent retreat a lie?”
Da, Ilya thought.In more ways than one.He glanced toward Shane.His boyfriend looked like a man who hadn't taken a proper shit in a month.Honestly, it was impressive.Five minutes ago Shane had been kissing him against a tree.Now he looked one minor inconvenience away from a stress-induced medical event. Come on Hollander.
Will was staring intently at him, “blink twice if you need help,”
“No. Stop that,” Shane said finally, “he’s with me….you know what. That’s not important. Apologize. You don’t hit people with balls,”
Ilya had to again try to disguise a snort as a cough. For that Shane gave him his own angry glare. Ilya remained unmoved.Mostly because it was difficult to take seriously while there was a miniature version standing five feet away. When William made no indication he was going to apologize, Shane grabbed him by the sleeve and forced him forward.
“Sorry Rozanov,” William did not sound sorry, “wait how can he be apart of your-
“Did you ride your bike here?” Shane interrupted.
William’s eyes searched Shane’s face, “no!”
He lied as badly as his brother did. He even had the same voice squeak. Ilya felt a ridiculous burst of affection.
“I can see your bike leaning against my porch!” Shane gestured to it, “you rode twelve miles here? There isn’t a bike road for most of it!”
“I wore a helmet,”
"Oh good," Shane said flatly. "That completely solves the problem."
William rolled his eyes, “you sound like Mom,”
“Good because she’ll probably sound like me when I call her to come get you!”
That changed William’s demeanor. His face fell instantly, his hands which had been folded against his chest had fallen to his sides, and the smirk he had one almost looked like a frown. For a second Ilya thought he might cry, and then he was begging Shane. Please, please, please don’t tell Mom. Interesting the fearless bike-riding outlaw had a limit.
“C’mon it’s my birthday!”
Shane opened his mouth to protest but it seemed that died on his lips. Ilya could see that he was indeed calculating the math in his head. Fuck, it appeared the kid was not lying. Shane looked stunned and horrified in equal measure. It was only reflected on the kid’s face.
“Happy birthday!” Ilya did not want to see either of them like this. For a moment neither brother spoke.Then Ilya decided he hated this.He loved Shane.And despite being assaulted with sporting equipment less than ten minutes ago, he was becoming disturbingly fond of Shane's tiny brother.
William glanced at him, looking mildly annoyed before seeming to remember his manners and offering a half-hearted thanks.
He turned back to Shane, “please. Please. Please. Just let me stay. A few hours?”
“Willie…,” and Shane seemed oblivious to the scrunch of disapproval that spread across the boy’s face, “happy birthday firstly…,” he pinched at the bridge of his nose, “where do Mom and Dad think you are?”
“Fishing with Henry. They’re not expecting me back until my birthday dinner!” William was smiling now, clearly this had been a part of his plan, “think of how excited they’ll be to have both of their sons home!”
Ilya hummed. In the few days they’d been at the cottage, Shane had not mentioned an impending birthday celebration. In fairness they’d been distracted but he hoped Shane would not miss it on his account. Ilya could entertain himself. He would not want Shane missing time with the Hollanders. So when William began his campaign again, clasping his hands together and looking up at Shane with enormous pleading eyes, Ilya decided to assist.
“"Please, Shane," William begged.
"Please, Shane," Ilya echoed.
William glanced sideways.Ilya stuck out his lower lip dramatically.After a brief moment of consideration, William did the same.
Shane’s eyes gazed over both of them but it appeared his resolve was lessening.Shane groaned, "Fine. Fine. You can stay for a few hours. But if Mom calls, I'm not lying to her."
William's face lit up instantly.The transformation was almost blinding,"Yes!"
He launched himself forward and wrapped his arms around Shane's middle before Shane could dodge. Shane stumbled backward with an offended noise while William clung to him like a barnacle.
"Don't worry," William said confidently, "she won't call. And she's talking to all of your sponsors today Shane,"
"That is not reassuring."
"She thinks you're on a stupid silent retreat."
"It wasn't stupid."
"It was extremely stupid."
"It’s meditative."
"It was boring."
"You've never been."
"I don't need to jump into a volcano to know it's a bad idea,” William shook his head with exasperation raising his hands and shaking his head, “and besides you’re not even on one because you’re with fucking…,” he ignored the scolding of “languae,”, “since you’re hanging out with Rozanov, your sworn enemy!” this was said with dramatic effect, “since when did you become friends anyway?”