Chapter Text
Shane stumbled to a less crowded area of the club, still more people than he would’ve usually preferred, but he didn’t have the time or energy to think too hard about it.
He felt slightly dizzy. His friends and teammates had dragged him out to a club after their great game against Boston (4–2, to be exact not that he was going to brag about it to Ilya later). Somehow, they’d convinced him to drink. He didn’t usually let himself indulge during the season, but as the years had gone by, he’d started relaxing that rule a little.
He pulled out his phone and opened Lily’s contact before pressing call. As it rang, he wandered aimlessly, staring at the bright-colored lights that had suddenly become fascinating.
“Hello?”
“Ilyaaaa.”
Shane came to a stop at the sound of Ilya’s voice.
“Hollander? What is the matter? I thought you were coming over later.”
Ilya sounded caught off guard by the use of his first name.
“No, no. I still am…” Shane trailed off, once again distracted by the lights reflecting off some decorative plant.
“Hollander?”
“Stop calling me that, asshole.”
“I cannot call you by your name anymore?”
“Mmm… never mind.”
He made sure his tone sounded lighter, hoping to distract from what he’d just said.
“Why are you calling?”
“Wanted to talk.”
“Why is it so loud?”
“Huh? Oh… I don’t know. The guys dragged me to some club…”
“Ah. Well, finally you have fun for once in your boring life.”
“I have fun!”
“Yes, I know. Yoga and reading. Very fun for you, Hollander, I am sure.”
“Shane! Over here, buddy!”
Hayden’s voice cut through the music, pulling Shane’s attention away.
“I think I gotta go… Can I still see you later?”
“Da. I’ll text you the room.”
“Okay… bye-bye.”
Shane hung up and walked (almost in a straight line) back toward the team.
Hayden watched Shane closely. “Who were you calling?” he asked with a small smile, already knowing the answer.
“Shut—” Shane started, then paused, taking a breath as he realized just how dizzy he actually was. The lights that had fascinated him moments ago now felt like a headache.
“Shut up, Hayd…”
Hayden nudged him. “I’m just messing with you, bud. It’s a miracle we got you out here while we’re in Boston. You planning on heading out soon?”
“Probably…”
JJ cut into the conversation. “You can’t leave yet! We gotta do at least one more shot. Come onnnn”
JJ definitely didn’t need another shot, and Shane probably shouldn’t either—but he agreed anyway.
One shot turned into three surprisingly quickly.
By the time it was over, Shane probably looked like a mess, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The room felt like it was moving on its own. He found himself outside in an alley next to the club how had he even gotten there?
His phone buzzed.
As he reached into his pocket, his legs gave out. He dropped down against the brick wall, fumbling to pull his phone out from his back pocket. He brought his head down to his knees and stared at the time.
2:32 a.m.
When did it get so late?
He saw Lily’s name on the screen and answered immediately.
“Hollander, are you okay? You have not answered my texts.”
“I… um…” Shane stared at the concrete, trying to form words. “Text? I didn’t see ’em…”
“Are you still out?”
“I think so—uh, yeah. Yeah, I am.”
“Where?”
“Why do you wanna know?”
“Hollander.”
“God, it’s uh… I don’t know the name. I’m near a bunch of convenience stores… and there were a lot of lights—God, so many lights…”
“Send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”
“You don’t have t—”
The call ended.
Shane stared at the screen for a moment after the call ended.
Asshole.
He sank lower against the wall, rubbing his hand over the concrete, strangely comforted by the quiet.
He had no idea how long it had been when he heard footsteps approaching. A shadow fell over him, and hands grabbed his shoulder.
“Hollander? You alive?”
“Mmm…”
“Can you get up? Someone will see you.”
“Can’t feel my legs.”
Ilya sighed and pulled him up, holding him against the wall as he tried to steady him.
“You can walk to car, yes? I will hold you up.”
“Mmm… okay.”
After a few minutes, they finally made it to the car. Ilya muttered under his breath as he buckled Shane in after he had forgotten. Prompting the car to chime at them.
“Stupid Canadian cars.”
“They keep you safe. You- You shouldn’t say things like that,” Shane mumbled.
“Is thinking like that that keeps Canadians dumb.”
They drove toward Ilya’s hotel. At one point, Ilya nearly pulled over when Shane suddenly gagged, the sound alone making him tense.
He didn’t say much after that.
By the time they reached the hotel, Ilya was practically carrying him inside.
Shane barely managed to get words out. “I—I don’t…”
He gagged again.
Ilya lifted him fully and carried him to the bathroom, setting him in front of the toilet. He stayed close, rubbing his back as Shane threw up for what felt like forever, though it only lasted a couple of minutes.
When it finally stopped, Ilya leaned back slightly.
“Better?”
Shane didn’t answer right away. His eyes were wet, and he leaned his forehead against the toilet, nodding.
“I will go get you water.”
Ilya stood to leave and that’s when Shane started crying without meaning to. He tried to hide it, but it came harder once he was alone.
Everything felt like too much. The lights, the alcohol, the noise, the confusion. And now Ilya—why had he come? Was he angry? Why was he being so kind?
He hadn’t thought too deeply about it before, but now everything was catching up at once.
Footsteps returned.
“What is matter?”
“I dunno…” Shane’s throat felt dry and rough.
“You look a mess,” Ilya said, softly teasing, setting the water down beside him.
Shane only cried harder.
“You’re such an asshole.”
“Yes, I take your drunk ass home and take care of you. I am so mean to you. Poor baby.”
Shane looked up, tear-stained, face flushed. He couldn’t bring himself to argue.
“Sorry…”
“It is fine. I do not mind.”
“Why’d you come?”
“You think I am an asshole who leaves drunk pretty boys on street alone?”
“You think I’m pretty?”
“Thought that was obvious, Hollander.”
“Stop calling me that…”
Shane looked down again, and Ilya gently tilted his chin up, forcing eye contact.
“What is matter? Why are you crying?”
Shane couldn’t answer. He didn’t really know himself, just that everything felt heavy and overwhelming.
Without really deciding to, his body shifted forward, and his head ended up in Ilya’s lap.
A quiet sigh left Ilya as he placed a hand in Shane’s hair, just enough in a attempt to ground him.