Chapter Text
Shane had been playing hockey long enough to know how to drown out the general chaos that is common in typical locker rooms. Unfortunately, the Centaur’s locker room was anything but typical. The room was filled with the usual shouting and roughhousing to be expected after practice but everything just seemed to be ramped up to eleven. Lockers slammed shut, duffle bags full of equipment crashed to the floor, and all his teammates shouted over each other, creating a cacophony of sound that made Shane want to crawl out of his skin. All the different scents of bodywashes, deodorants, and colognes mixed with the stench of sweat soaked equipment. The rookies were the worst, throwing towels and shadowboxing one another. It was all just so overstimulating. Shane turned to face his locker to try and lessen the assault to his senses.
Maybe all this commotion was because everyone was excited to have tomorrow off. Or maybe I’m just used to my team’s locker room , Shane thought to himself as he finished getting dressed. He hated that he still thought of the Voyageurs as his team. He had only been on the Centaurs for a couple weeks, so of course it would take time to adjust, right? Logically, Shane knew this was the best place for him. He was back in his hometown with his parents close by. Both the team and management were excited to have him and Shane was excited to be there. Best of all, he and Ilya were on the same team and would get to see each other everyday now. No more trying to squeeze their relationship around their careers. This would be the best situation for him, both on and off the ice. Still, after playing there for over a decade, winning three cups together, and giving them everything he could, he was sure a part of him would always be back in Montreal. Apparently it wasn’t enough to prove I wasn’t THROWING GAMES for my boyfriend. It was obvious he was starting to ruminate, but the chaos around him and the swell of emotions inside created a storm that threatened to drag him below the waves.
The distress must have been radiating off of him because, as if on cue, Ilya emerged from the showers, crossed the room to Shane’s locker, and wrapped an arm around Shane’s back, lightly gripping his hip. His golden brown curls were still dripping from his shower as he pulled Shane tighter against his side. The pressure grounded Shane immediately. His muscles relaxed almost instantly at the contact and he smiled up at his husband in thanks. Ilya returned the smile easily, basking in the freedom of finally being able to show the world how much he loved Shane.
“Everything okay, lyubimyy?” He asked quietly.
Shane nodded and replied “Better now.” Then, emboldened by Ilya’s presence, he added “Spasibo, moy lev.” It was slow and clunky but Ilya always loved it when Shane tried to speak his native language.
Ilya’s warm smile grew so wide it threatened to spit his face in two. He squeezed Shane’s hip one last time and kissed the top of his head before releasing him. It was then that Shane noticed his husband’s smile morph into its usual mischievous grin. Before Shane could react, Ilya bent forward and shook his head violently, throwing water from his hair all over Shane.
“Fucking asshole!” Shane exclaimed as he threw his hands up in a futile attempt to shield himself.
“What?” Ilya replied, casually tossing the question over his shoulder as he made his way to his locker a few feet away. “You just said I am lion. In case you do not know, cats do not like water Shane.” Shane did his best to fix his face into a disapproving scowl, but the fondness in his eyes when he looked at his husband made it clear to anyone around that it was an act.
Shane had just taken a seat on one of the nearby benches to wait for Ilya to change when Wyatt Hayes collapsed into the seat beside him. “That practice was a killer! Hollzy, you gotta get your man to take it easier on us next time.” he bemoaned playfully as he wrapped an arm around Shane’s shoulders.
“You’re delusional if you think he would ever listen to anything I have to say,” Shane joked. In truth the comment wasn’t that funny but Wyatt let out a laugh so loud you would think Shane was a professional stand-up comedian instead of a hockey player with the worst chirp game in the league. Shane briefly considered it could be forced, but when Wyatt had finally stopped and looked back at him the humor still glinted in his eyes.
“Fair point,” Wyatt conceded, “If there’s one thing I know it's that no one can make Roz do anything he doesn’t want to do.” Shane couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. He was sure he could get Ilya to do almost anything he wanted him to, given the proper motivation.
“Speaking of which,” Wyatt continued before raising his voice to be heard over the noise. “Hey Roz! you’re coming tonight, right?”
Ilya turned toward them as he finished pulling on his fitted black tee. “Of course I am,” he answered as he made his way over to join the pair. He sat on Shane’s other side and began leisurely putting on his shoes. “How could party go on without me?”
Shane looked between the two men, confusion plain on his face. “You two are going to a party tonight?” Ilya never mentioned any party plans to him.
“You didn’t invite your own husband?” Wyatt chided while leveling a disapproving look at his captain.
“It is not my fault,” Ilya retorted. “I was planning to ask for permission from Mr. Dungeon Master after practice.”
“Okay, now I really need someone to explain what is happening!” Shane barked as he rose to his feet. Ilya grinned at his husband and winked, which only made Shane flush at the implication.
Wyatt, at least, had the sense to put his hands up in surrender. “Don’t worry Hollzy! It’s nothing like that. A couple of us try to get together once a month at my place and play Dungeons and Dragons.”
“Oh-” That was definitely not what Shane had been thinking.
“Yeah,” Wyatt continued, “I asked the guys to give it a shot when I first got traded. We’d get together every once-in-a-while but no one really took it seriously until Rozy joined.”
“It is very serious game!” Ilya said in mock offense. “We have the fate of the world in our hands.”
Wyatt just rolled his eyes and pressed on with his pitch. “Anyway it’s really casual. You should come tonight. You don’t have to play if you don’t want to; Barret comes with Harris and never does. You can just watch and who knows you might like it.”
Shane lightly bit down on his lower lip as he mulled the idea over. He had heard of the game before, was pretty sure there was even a movie in the works that Rose had mentioned auditioning for, but he never expected that it was something a bunch of hockey players would be interested in. I mean, come on, what could be so interesting about slaying imaginary dragons when you play a high-contact sport for a living? Then again, Shane had been looking for a way to become more comfortable with his new team and Ilya’s friends. Plus, a casual hangout at someone’s house sounded much more doable for him than going out to a club.
After a long pause, Shane let out a sigh and yielded. “Okay, I’ll come. But I honestly don’t think I’m interested in playing.”
Wyatt and Ilya’s faces lit up like Shane had just personally won them the cup. They both jumped to their feet in excitement. “That’s what I like to hear!” Wyatt exclaimed as he playfully punched Shane in the shoulder. Ilya wrapped his arm around Shane’s neck and tousled his hair; earning him a halfhearted glare. Something sour settled in Shane’s stomach. Had they really thought he would say no? Why would he? Shane enjoyed spending time with people…when he wanted to…and in the right place…at the right time.
“I gotta get home and get everything set up. See you guys there!” Wyatt said as he grabbed his gym bag and made his way out of the locker room.
Shane and Ilya quickly gathered their belongings and made their way out to their car. Ilya babbled excitedly to Shane the whole time, filling him in on all the details of his secret game of play-pretend. He told him about the character he’d created and been playing for the past year, the other players and their characters, and stories about their “adventures” that seemed hilarious to Ilya but sounded like absolute gibberish to Shane. Shane tried his best to listen and share in his husband’s joy, but that sour feeling slowly started eating away at him. Why has he never told me about this? Does he think I would have made fun of him? By the time they pulled away from the rink, all the gnawing thoughts had finally torn their way out of him and coalesced into a single question.
“Why have you never mentioned this to me before?” He was staring out the passenger window, trying desperately to hide the flush of embarrassment he felt creeping to his cheeks. The question just slipped out and his voice was so quiet he hardly expected Ilya to hear him.
But Ilya was always more perceptive than he gave him credit for.
Ilya went quiet for a moment, then said simply, “I did not think you would care.”
Ilya’s words were delivered as if it were just a fact. Like wanting to be let in on the secrets of Ilya’s life hadn’t kept Shane up at night since they started all this over a decade ago. Now he finds out that his husband is a secret nerd? What else didn’t he know? Shane bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the swell of anxiety. “Why would you think I wouldn’t care?”
“It never interfered with our time together, so I did not think it mattered.”
“I still would’ve liked to know about your secret hobby.”
“Well,” Ilya purred as he placed a hand on Shane’s thigh, “I was focused on other things when we were together.” A breathy laugh escaped Shane before he could stop it. It was amazing how the touch simultaneously soothed and thrilled him.
Ilya, encouraged by Shane’s reaction to his flirting, continued as they pulled into their driveway. “It is for team building! We have fun, drink, is good time.” Then added in a more serious tone, “Please come?”
Shane felt his heart swell at the earnestness that he heard in his husband’s voice. After all this time, it was still so rare to get anything but humor from him, and Shane knew he was powerless to refuse. “I already said I would,” he replied casually in an attempt to disguise how easily he folds to Ilya’s whims. Ilya's smile was almost blinding as he put the car in park and placed a hand on Shane’s cheek. The two shared a gentle kiss before Ilya grabbed their things from the backseat and headed toward the house. As he watched the love of his life make his way up the steps of their home, Shane promised himself that he would find a way to enjoy tonight’s game.
~~~
A quick inventory of his body told Shane he was most certainly not enjoying this so far. He could feel Ilya’s hand on his knee; drawing small soothing circles with his thumb for most of the ride. Usually this touch would subdue most of Shane’s worries. Unfortunately, nothing seemed strong enough to save him tonight. Bile burned at the base of Shane’s throat as they pulled into Hayes' driveway and parked. His death grip on the wheel was the only thing keeping his hands from shaking. Every nerve in Shane’s body seemed to be on high alert; ready to react to any sign of danger. Which is definitely not how you should start a night hanging out with your friends. At least they seemed like his friends. But, then again, so had the Voyageurs.
Ilya knew something was wrong with Shane and he was starting to feel desperate. Shane had been a ball of nerves for hours now and no amount of holding, touching, or reassurance seemed to be getting through. A wave of helplessness washed over Ilya as he watched Shane stare out the window at Wyatt’s home like a man on his way to the gallows. Terrified, frantic to escape, yet ultimately resigned to his fate. When it became clear that his husband would not be moving, Ilya resorted to the most reliable tactic in his arsenal; or at least the most appropriate one anyway.
He placed his hands on either side of his lover’s face, careful not to startle him more. He turned Shane’s head to face him and pressed their lips together. The kiss was firm yet laced with a painful gentleness. He poured all his love into it; wishing more than anything that his husband would give him all his fears in exchange. Ilya was sure he could carry it, and would gladly carry it forever. For Shane. Fortunately, his body reacted exactly as Ilya had known it would. After the initial tense of surprise, Shane immediately melted into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around Ilya’s neck, pulling them closer together and deepening the kiss. The move was so innocent and unguarded, it took all of the Russian’s willpower to break the kiss. This resolve quickly failed him as Shane unconsciously chased his lips as he pulled away.
Ilya rested his forehead against Shane’s. It was his mind’s pathetic compromise with his body’s desire to kiss him again and never stop. “You do not have to do this, Krolik, if you are not ready.” Ilya stared into his husband’s beautiful dark eyes so he knew that he meant every word. He wanted, more than anything, for Shane to become close to his friends, but not if it came at the expense of his well-being.
“I’ll be okay,” Shane replied, forcing as much sincerity as he could into the statement. Clearly not enough of it as Ilya wearily held his gaze. Maybe he should try a different approach. “Just…give me a second, okay?” While his husband still did not seem satisfied with his response, he relented with a sigh, kissed Shane’s forehead, and exited the vehicle. Just a few breaths, Shane reassured himself, that's all he needed.
Ilya retrieved his “gear” from the backseat; a notebook, folder, pencil and eraser, and a small bag that contained several sets of polyhedral dice sets. As his husband clutched his belongings to his chest, waiting patiently for him in front of the car, Shane couldn’t help but think he looked more like a school boy than a world renowned hockey superstar. The thought brought an unbidden smile to his face. God, did he love this man. And if the man that he loved trusted his team so completely, then why would Shane doubt it? It was the final motivation he needed to finally turn the ignition off, exit the car, and follow his husband to the door.
Wyatt’s wife, Lisa, greeted them both at the door with a warm smile. She gave Ilya a quick peck on the cheek as she ushered them inside. It put Shane’s mind at ease to see how casual she seemed to be about them being here together. They would not have gotten that type of welcome from the Voyageurs’ WAGs if their husband’s reactions to their relationship were anything to go by. Wyatt emerged from a doorway further down the hall and joined the trio in the entryway. Lisa hugged her husband as she announced that pizza had been ordered and would be here shortly. A muffled cheer rang out from behind the door Wyatt had come through, leading Shane to believe they must be the last to arrive. “Shane,” Lisa said, “Wyatt mentioned that you have a special diet. So I ordered you a salad with chicken. I hope that's okay?”
Shane wasn’t sure what surprised him more: the fact that Hayes had noticed his diet or that Lisa had gone out of her way to make sure they had something he could eat. It took a gentle nudge from Ilya to finally dislodge the “thank you” that had been trapped in his throat; earning him another friendly smile from the woman. An embarrassing blush crept across his face as he noticed out of the corner of his eye Ilya giving him a cocky grin. Maybe he had texted them to make sure there was something for him?
Wyatt thanked his wife and gave her an appreciative smooch before grabbing the two men and practically dragging them through the far door and down the stairs on the other side. The basement would have brought any nerd who entered it to tears. The walls were covered in memorabilia spanning many different genres and franchises like Duke of the Lockets, Galaxy Battles, and Contests of Pedestals. He clearly favored the superhero genre though. Shane was sure he noticed a signed X-Squad script displayed in a frame next to the bar on the far side of the room. He made a mental note to ask Rose for something from the set once she wrapped on the next one.
Everyone was gathered around a huge table in the center of the room. Zane Boodram and Evan Dykstra cheered as the guys approached. “Roz! You actually convinced Holly to tag along!” Evan said as Ilya took his seat next to him.
Luca Haas smiled sheepishly at Shane and gestured toward the open seat next to Ilya. “Shane, we saved this seat for you.”
“Hassy practically teleported out of it when he heard you were coming,” Zane quipped. This sent everyone into a fit of laughter. The rookie’s eyes went wide as he turned a shade of red that Shane had never seen.
“You guys need to go easy on him,” Harris scolded while rubbing Luca’s back. Troy Barret shot everyone at the table with a withering stare on his way back from the bar as if to emphasize his boyfriend’s point. The laughter died almost immediately. Troy grinned and kissed the top of Harris’ head while he passed him a drink and took his seat.
Shane gave the rookie an endearing smile as he took his seat next to Ilya. “Thanks, Hassy.” This seemed to ease Luca’s nerves; even if it did not quell his blush.
Wyatt was the last one to take his seat at the head of the table where a laptop was set up. With a couple clicks, the screen built into the table sprang to life with an overhead view of a bustling market. Well worn paths meandered through the square between the colorful tents. Flags swayed in an invisible breeze while merchants stood outside their stalls attempting to entice prospective customers. Shane was shocked by the level of detail in the scene and had to stifle a laugh at the absurdity of it all. They really took this silly game seriously.
“Okay, so last we left off our heroes had arrived in the village of Eastbourne as they continued their search for clues to find the bandits’ hideout.” Wyatt said as he motioned to the table. “You arrive to find a bustling market set up in the center of town. Families weave through the streets as merchants call from their stalls and bards play for spare coins. What do you all want to do?”
The group erupted with different, even contradictory, requests. After a moment of bickering, Wyatt interjected, “Okay, let’s go around the table. Roz, what are you doing?”
“Who is this ‘Roz’ you speak of?” Ilya balked. “I only know Valen the Wood Elf ranger rogue.” Shane couldn’t contain himself anymore as a laugh escaped his lips; which earned him a subtle glare from his husband.
Wyatt just rolled his eyes. “Fine, what are you doing, Valan?”
“I want to find a village tavern. Is where all the suspicious people hang out.”
“Explains why Valan is always there,” joked Bood.
“Shut your idiot face, Jiay!” Ilya shot back as the rest of the party dissolved into laughter.
“Do you guys always call each other by your character’s names?” asked Shane.
“Most of the time,” said Harris, throwing a wry look at Ilya, “But some of us take it more seriously than others.”
“Alright,” Wyatt continued, “Valan, you see a tavern on the other side of the square with a sign that reads ‘The Ruthless Wolf’. As you make your way inside you notice that the bar seems much busier than you would expect for the middle of the day. What’s your plan?”
The corners of Ilya’s lips quirked up in a mischievous grin. “I want to steal a drink from the bar.” The group let out an exasperated sigh.
Shane gave his husband a quizzical look. “I thought you were playing the good guys?”
The question was so innocent, Ilya couldn’t help but lean over and kiss Shane on the cheek. “We are. But good guys in this game still get to commit crimes.” Shane went rigid at the touch and nervously scanned the room, but everyone seemed occupied with their own conversations. If anyone had a problem with the interaction, they didn’t show it.
“Only if they roll high enough to not get caught, Roz.” Wyatt added. “Roll a slight of hand check.”
Ilya confidently grabbed his 20-sided die and let it loose into his dice tray. His confidence quickly evaporated when, after rolling around for a second, the die landed on a two.
“So you try to swipe a drink from the counter,” Wyatt’s face split into an evil grin, “only to realize it belongs to the head of the city watch.”
Shane flinched as the group erupted in chaos. Some people laughed while others pleaded with Wyatt to change his mind. Harris groaned, but immediately leaned over and began coordinating a plan with Luca to salvage the situation. Ilya attempted desperately to talk his way out of the situation he had willingly walked himself into, never breaking character. Unfortunately, thanks to another series of pitiful rolls, the scene concluded with “Valan” being hauled off to prison.
"Hazy, you have been DM for too long," Ilya whined, " You have forgotten that it is like to be helpless player."
Wyatt simply rolled his eyes. "Any day you wanna take over, Rozanov, be my guest. I would love a chance to sit back, cause chaos, and watch you have to clean it up for once."
The game continued in a similar fashion. Wyatt worked his way through the group leaving hints and clues for each member to find as they went. Harris’ half elf bard spent their time trying to convince local law enforcement to release Ilya’s character from fantasy jail. While exploring the shops with Dykstra’s wood elf monk/druid, Luca’s dwarf cleric overheard a group of children whispering about cloaked figures they saw sneaking around at night near the church. Once they all regrouped to investigate, Bood’s fighter finally managed to roll a high enough perception check to find the trap door under the pulpit that led to the dungeon below. Shane did his best to keep up, but found himself relying heavily on Troy to fill him in on the events of previous sessions and inside jokes.
It was nice to see his new team hanging out in such an unguarded way. They did silly accents for their characters and made choices that, at least to Shane, bordered on nonsensical. No one seemed concerned about what the others would think. Everyone seemed content to be totally themselves within this imaginary world they had been creating together for three years. A sudden pang of envy clenched around Shane’s heart. When was the last time he had felt that safe to be himself? Certainly before his and Ilya’s accidental outing, but probably even before then. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t think he had ever felt this safe with the Voyageurs; with his team.
The party had just started their first fight when Lisa announced that dinner had arrived. Shane eagerly volunteered to help bring the food downstairs; desperate to get up and stretch his legs. Ilya had mentioned to Shane that the game would go for a while, but he hadn’t expected nearly two hours to pass before even seeing any combat. He carried the pizza boxes down the stairs, careful to balance them on his sleeves to avoid touching the grease seeping through the bottom. Once the boxes were placed on the bar, Troy and Shane began passing slices out to the hungry crowd around the table. Shane had just settled back in his seat with his salad, when Wyatt apparently decided to make him the center of attention.
“Hollzy, what do you think of your first D&D night?”
A lump formed in the base of Shane’s throat as everyone at the table turned their attention to him immediately. He shoved a bite of salad into his mouth to buy himself some time. It had been a fun night, even if it was a little silly. How honest could he be with this new team?
Shane swallowed and defaulted to his rehearsed, media-trained tone. “I’ve enjoyed watching you all have a good time. It may not be something I would consider fun, but it has been fun watching everyone enjoy themselves.”
As if it were coordinated, the crowd of expectant hockey players rolled their eyes in unison and laughed. Shane felt his cheeks heat as embarrassment settled into his stomach like a stone. The anxious and overwhelming desire to explain himself dug its claws into his mind.
“What is so funny? I just don’t get how rolling dice and doing math qualifies as fun.”
Troy raised his drink in solidarity. “I second you on that one Holz.”
“It’s not just rolling dice,” Harris interjected, “We’re telling a story.”
“Don’t worry, Hollender. We didn’t really expect you to get it.” Dykstra added with a chuckle.
The words crashed into Shane like a wave, leaving a familiar sense of dread in their wake. He fought to keep the fear out of his voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing its just that-”
“You are stick in mud with no whimsy.” Ilya finished with a smug grin.
Okay, this was not fun anymore. “Fuck you! I can have fun.”
“Of course you can,” said Luca, his tone soft and comforting. “But this might just not be your type of fun.”
Bood chimed in next, clearly trying, and failing, to suppress his amusement. “Yeah. Maybe we could start up a book club or something.”
“He will only join if we read nothing but boring hockey books.” Chirped Ilya which shattered the last boards of the dam holding back the group’s collective flood of laughter.
The Voyageurs had laughed at him too. Not to his face, but quietly to one another when no one thought Shane was listening. But he heard them. Every “joke” in the locker room, every slur Drapeau muttered under his breath when Shane scored on him during practice, every cruel chuckle the guys shared as they vacated the showers the second he walked in; like he was a predator who couldn’t be trusted. For years, Shane heard them all.
Every. Single. One.
In that moment, surrounded by men who were supposed to be his new start, a freezing gust of isolation blew through Shane and left him paralyzed. This was his worst nightmare come to life. The team he wanted so desperately to like him, thought he was boring; that he was different from them. Thought he didn’t belong. And they were laughing at him. Even Ilya. His own husband, the love of his life, thought he was a joke. Shane trembled as the frozen blood in his veins melted and began to boil from the white hot rage in his stomach. It burned in him with the heat of a dying star and collapsed into itself; creating a black hole whose gravity kept Shane rooted in his seat.
“You know what, fuck you guys! I’ll prove I can play this game better than any of you.” Shane was helpless to stop the next words from tumbling out of his mouth. “I’ll make a character and play next month.”
The guys all erupted in excited shouts at the declaration. Nobody seemed to notice the fury that was eating him alive which only added to the weight of the loneliness that was crushing him.
“Now that’s what I like to hear!” Wyatt exclaimed and clapped Shane on the shoulder; oblivious when he recoiled from the touch.
Ilya noticed though, always. The laughter died in his throat the second he heard the frustrated tone in his husband’s voice; despite clearly using every ounce of his superhuman control to restrain it. Ilya didn’t completely understand what had happened; their light teasing couldn’t hold a candle to the chirps that got hurled across the ice during any given hockey game. That didn’t matter though. Clearly, they had gone too far. He wanted to touch him, to reach over and cradle Shane’s face in his hands and ask what had happened, but he knew his husband. That would only embarrass him and make the situation worse. So, because Ilya loved Shane so much, he disregarded his most primal instincts and instead began running interference.
“Enough playing around boys,” Ilya declared to the crowd, “We have bandits to kill!”
Dinner was quickly cleared away and the group dove back into their private world. The fight lasted another two hours and Shane sat still and quiet as a statue the whole time. Each of the guys noticed his stoic posture eventually, but one stern look from their captain kept them from asking any questions.
Once the bandits were vanquished, everyone bid each other goodnight and made their way to their cars. Ilya did the goodbyes for the both of them, giving Shane the chance to drift back to the car like a roiling thunder storm. He crashed into the passenger seat and glared out the windshield at the happy group of men bathed in the warm light pouring through the open door of the Hayes’ house. A grim determination settled into his stomach as he watched them all laughing together. If beating these assholes at a stupid game of make believe was the way to win their respect, then Game. Fucking. On.