Chapter Text
Refusing Sasha was the right thing to do. Ilya is sure of that. He can't fall back into the same destructive patterns that he always does when he's in Russia. He's already been so cruel to Shane that the man probably won't talk to him again. Sasha and his drugs won't help that.
A traitorous part of his mind thinks that the only thing that could possibly make him feel better is Shane. But even if Shane still wanted him, he wouldn't risk the man's life like that. Russia is too dangerous. The faster Shane is back in Canada the better.
Ilya considers blocking Sasha's number when another message comes through. Or maybe he should just throw his phone out of the window and be done with it.
He lifts the phone, determined to just delete the message, but freezes when his eyes skim over it.
Sasha: Your little Canadian rival is much more fun than he seems
Sasha: Once you give him something to loosen him up of course
Ilyas blood goes cold. He sits up so quickly that he almost drops his phone. He hits the call button, practically growling by the time Sasha answers.
‘Ilyusha.’ Sasha purrs.
‘What the fuck are you talking about?’
‘Hollander. He is your rival, isn't he?’ Sasha asks, playing dumb. ‘I asked him if I should invite you over as a joke but he seems very into the idea. You should come play with us.’
‘Let me talk to him.’
‘Mm, might be a while. He's throwing up. Are all Canadians such light weights?’
‘What did you give him?’
‘Just some uppers. He needed help letting loose. He won a medal, he should be celebrating.’
‘Where are you?’
‘I already sent you the address.’ Sasha hums.
‘Don’t you fucking touch him.’ Ilya warns as he grabs his shoes, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he laces them.
Sasha laughs, obviously too high to understand the threat. ‘Don't sorry. I’ll wait for you to join us. I doubt the little virgin has much stamina.’
‘Don't. Touch. Him.’ Ilya warns again before hanging up. He checks his phone and sure enough, Sasha had sent him the location of the hotel and the room number just as Ilya had placed his call. It's close enough that he can run so he takes off, pushing past the crowds of drunken athletes celebrating their wins or drinking away their failures.
He's out of breath by the time he reaches the hotel but he doesn't stop. Ignoring the protests of the staff at the front desk, he runs up three flights of stairs. Heart thudding against his chest, he slams his fist on the door.
‘Desperate, aren't we?’ Sasha leans against the door as he opens it, draping himself seductively.
Ilya pushes past him, desperately looking for Shane.
The Canadian is lying on the bed, barely awake and hugging one of the pillows. He’s shirtless and Ilya seriously considers killing Sasha.
He grabs the front of the man's shirt and slams him against the wall. Sasha seems to interpret the rough handling as foreplay and licks his lips expectantly.
‘What the fuck have you done to him?’
Sasha holds his hands up. ‘Nothing. We were waiting for you.’
‘Sasha, tell me what happened. Now.’
Sasha rolls his eyes, acting put-out that Ilya isn't jumping into bed with his drugged rival. ‘I recognised him at a party. But he was being so boring. So I put some party favours in his drink to make him fun. Then I brought him here to play. We made out a bit and you should have seen the way he lit up when I asked if we should invite you over. I never thought he’d say yes, but he was practically begging for Rozanov.’ He grins, pronouncing Ilya's name the way the Americans all do, exaggerating the wrong vowels.
‘Where is his shirt?’
‘What?’
Ilya pulls him forward to slam him against the wall again. ‘Why is he half naked?’
‘Oh! The vomit wasn't exactly sexy. So we had to take it off so he would be pretty for you. You're welcome.’
‘Rozanov.’ Shane practically moans from the bed, not lifting his head from the pillows.
‘Told you he was begging.’ Sasha grins and Ilya snaps. His hand pulls back and he slams his fist into Sasha's face. He's about to hit him again when Shane makes a sad, pitiful whine.
‘Get the fuck out of here before I kill you.’ Ilya warns before tossing Sasha out of the room.
‘This is my room!’ Sasha protests, holding a hand to his profusely bleeding nose.
‘Fuck. Off.’ Ilya sneers, slamming the door in the man's face. For a moment, he just stares at the door and takes a long, slow breath to calm himself down. He turns when Shane whines again. ‘I’m here, Hollander. You're okay.’ He says gently as he crosses the room to sit on the edge of the bed.
Shane turns his head and opens one eye. ‘I don't think I like your friend very much.’ Shane grumbles.
‘Not my friend.’ Ilya tells him. ‘He hurt you?’
Shane's eyebrows furrow. ‘Don't remember… m’cold.’
Ilya pulls off his Team Russia hoodie. ‘Here.’ He helps Shane to sit up and manoeuvres him to pull the hoodie on.
‘Mmm’better.’ Shane sighs, leaning back against the headboard.
‘I am sorry, Hollander. Sasha is terrible. He should not have drugged you.’
Shane blinks slowly. ‘Oh…. That's why I feel like this? I thought Russian alcohol was just weird maybe.’
‘No. You will be okay though. I will get you water. Or ginger ale, hm? Get the drugs out of your system.’
‘I wasn't supposed to be a buzzkill tonight.’ Shane sighs, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling.
‘You are not a buzzkill Hollander.’
‘M’boring.’
‘Boring is good.’
Shane tilts his head to meet Ilya's eyes. ‘It is?’
‘Yes, I like boring. Very much.’
‘Huh…’
‘I will order you room service, yes? Something good for your stomach.’
‘Mkay.’
Shane watches Ilya as he grabs the phone to place an order with the hotel staff. He chews on the stings of the hoodie as he tracks Ilya's every move.
Ilya forces himself to smile at the man. ‘Okay. Food is ordered. We will stay here till you feel better.’
Shane just blinks at him in response.
‘We can find something to watch?’ He offers, handing Shane the TV remote.
Shane nods mutely, flicking through the channels. They both jump at the knock at the door. It's far too soon for room service so Ilya braces himself for Sasha's return.
He scowls as he throws the door open, the fierce expression morphing to confusion when he spots Hayden Pike in the hallway.
‘What the fuck?’ Hayden squawks.
‘What the fuck.’ Ilya echoes.
‘The Hobbit is on!’ Shane calls from the bed.
‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ Ilya hisses, gesturing for Hayden to get in the room so he can slam the door shut.
‘Shane disappeared at the party. I have his location on my phone so I came to get him. What are you doing here?’
‘It's the third film, but that's okay.’ Shane adds, not seeming to have noticed Hayden's presence.
‘Someone I know drugged him.’ Ilya scowls. ‘I broke his nose and stayed to help Hollander.’
‘It’s in Russian.’ Shane informs them.
‘Hes fucking high?!’ Hayden snaps, pushing past Ilya to dash over to Shane.
‘Hayd!’ Shane smiles, completely oblivious to the tension in the room.
Hayden's eyes snap down to the Team Russia hoodie and then back to Ilya accusingly.
‘He threw up. So I gave him my hoodie. That is all.’
‘Come on Shane. We're getting out of here.’
‘But it just started…’ Shane pouts.
‘We're not watching the Hobbit Bud. The ending always makes you cry.’
Shane gasps. ‘Does not.’
‘Does to.’
‘Maybe it’ll end different this time.’
‘Pretty sure that's not how films work.’
‘I have a good feeling about this time. Come watch.’ He demands, patting the bed.
It seems that Hayden is also unable to say no to Shane. He just sighs and reluctantly sits next to the man.
Ilya is about to leave. Shane is in good hands and he won't want Ilya there when he's sober. But then Shane makes grabby hands for him and pulls Ilya down to sit on the other side of him.
Hayden huffs. ‘Movies in Russian. You're not going to understand it.’
‘I understand it.’ Shane tells him firmly.
Hayden raises an eyebrow. ‘You learn Russian for the trip or something?’
Shane starts translating over the Russian dub of the film. It's not a direct translation and it takes Ilya a moment to understand what's happening.
‘Hollander, do you have the whole film memorised?’
‘S’a good film.’ Shane replies.
‘This is weird.’ Hayden says once Shane has started to watch the movie again.
‘Da.’
‘I’m going to fucking kill your friend.’
‘Swear jar.’ Shane mumbles, not taking his eyes off the screen.
‘Not my friend.’ Ilya corrects. ‘And not if I kill him first.’
‘Boo.’ Shane hisses. Ilya isn't sure if he's talking about the conversation or whatever is happening on the screen. He puffs out his cheeks and rests his head on Ilya's shoulder.
Hayden glares at him but Ilya just holds his hands up to show that he has nothing to do with their new position.
‘Why are you even here, Rozanov?’ Hayden sighs.
‘I told you. I am making sure Hollander is okay. We are friends.’
‘Friends.’ Hayden repeats flatly, not buying it.
‘Yes, isn't that right Hollander?’
Shane rolls his head back to consider Ilya for a moment. ‘We are not anything Hollander.’ Shane repeats in a vaguely Russian accent before laughing and turning to face Hayden again. ‘He doesn't mean it though. We just can't be friends in Russia, s’all.’
‘You're not friends at all.’ Hayden insists.
‘Yes we are.’ Shane whines. ‘You know that. We talk about him all the time.’
Hayden frowns. ‘About Rozanov?’
‘About Lily.’ Shane says with a long suffering sigh.
‘Hollander.’ Ilya warns but it's too late.
‘Lily…’ Hayden repeats slowly.
‘Boston Lily.’ Shane nods, repeating the word ‘boston’ in the typical accent over and over until he descends into a fit of giggles.
In any other circumstance, finding out that Shane's friends talk about Boston Lily the same way his teammates talk about Montreal Jane would fill him with glee. But here, in Russia, it's far too dangerous to delight in.
Hayden Pike is staring at him and Ilya files the day in his head as the second worst day of his life.
‘You’re Boston Lily.’ It's not a question but Ilya nods his head to confirm.
‘Pike. You have to understand. Russia is not a safe place to have this conversation. Not safe for people like me. If the wrong people find out, I do not get to go home and Shane could be in danger.’
‘People like you…’ Hayden says, putting it together in his head.
‘Don't think about it too hard. Or at all until you're back in Canada. And don't say anything to anyone. For his sake, not mine.’
Hayden looks at Shane desperately. ‘You're gay?’
Shane just gestures to Orlando Bloom on the screen.
‘How is that an answer?!’
‘Stop yelling Pike.’ Ilya hisses. ‘If someone calls the police we’re fucked.’ Ilya wouldn't be surprised if there was cocaine hidden in the bags Sasha had been forced to leave, but he won't tell Hayden that.
The man seems to finally grasp the severity of the situation. ‘Fuck…’ He exhales.
‘Swear jar.’ Shane hums.
The room service finally arrives and Ilya opens one of the bottles of water and hands it to Shane who gives him a dopey smile. ‘Thanks.’ He says in Russian.
Ilya raises an eyebrow. ‘You did study Russian?’
‘Just to order stuff and stay thanks and hi and stuff.’ Shane rambles. ‘M’not good though. Hard language.’
‘Try learning English.’ Ilya laughs. ‘It makes no sense.’
‘At least it's not a gendered language.’ Hayden points out. ‘I still don't know any French.’
‘Ah, also a stupid language.’ Ilya nods.
Shane gasps. ‘How dare.’
Hayden shakes his head. ‘This is fucking weird.’
Ilya tosses him a bottle of water.
Hayden eyes the rest of the tray. ‘He has a strict diet.’
‘Believe me. I know about his rabbit food.’
Shane laughs. ‘That's what Hayd calls it too.’ Shane explains when Ilya stares at him. ‘And I am not a buzzkill tonight.’ He declares. ‘No rabbit food.’
Ilya frowns. ‘Who has been calling you this?’
‘Everyone.’ Shane moans. ‘But I’ve gone to parties. I've had alcohol! I ate ice cream.’
‘Ice cream. Very scandalous Hollander.’ He says as he passes over the plain chicken sandwich.
‘Scandalous.’ Shane repeats, drawing out the word with a chuckle as he takes a bite.
‘If you're hungry, order room service.’ Ilya tells Hayden. ‘It's on Sasha's card, so spend as much as you want.’
‘Sasha? A girl did this to Shane?’
‘Sasha is a man's name.’
‘Sasha sucks.’ Shane huffs. ‘He kissed me and I had to throw up. Then he said hey let's call Ilya and I knew you would stop him from kissing me again. And it worked. Yay.’ Shane says with a happy smile that breaks Ilya's heart. He was so cruel to the man but even high for the first time in his life, he still knew that Ilya would help him.
Hayden is glaring again but Ilya keeps his focus on Shane who practically inhales his sandwich and lights up when Ilya hands him a can of ginger ale.
They watch the rest of the film in silence, only occasionally broken up by Shane telling them trivia facts that it sounds like Hayden has heard a hundred times before. Towards the end of the film, three of the dwarves die and as Hayden predicted, Shane starts to cry.
‘It's not fair.’ He huffs.
‘I told you it wasn't going to change.’ Hayden points out.
‘Mean.’ Shane responds, cuddling into Ilya to hide from Hayden. Ilya tries not to smile, knowing that Hayden is already pissed. Normally he would make it worse by teasing the man, but he can't risk Hayden getting too mad and doing something reckless while they're in Russia.
The credits eventually roll and Hayden is able to get Shane up and out of the door.
‘Bye Rozy!’ Shane calls as Hayden tries to shush him. ‘Text me okay? Okay, bye!’
Ilya can only wave and watch the pair leave. Before he leaves the hotel room, he goes through Sasha's bags and throws every bit of alcohol and drugs down the toilet. He heads to his own hotel room, calling Svetlana intending to just leave a message for the woman since it's so late, but hes surprised by the woman's voice.
‘What's wrong?’ She asks without bothering to say hello.
‘I’m going to kill Sasha.’
‘Okay.’ Svetlana says in the way Ilya knows means she's immediately on his side. ‘What did he do this time?’
‘He drugged Jane.’
‘Oh fuck, Ilya… Is she okay?’ Svetlana knows that Jane is a man. But she's smart. She knows they have to be careful.
‘Yes. Sasha took her to a hotel room but I don't think they did more than kiss. But I am still…’ He sighs. ‘Jane didn't deserve that.’
‘No... I shouldn't have invited Sasha.’
Ilya shakes his head. ‘Its my fault. I ruin everything I touch. I shouldn't have-’
‘You didn't do this.’ Svetlana interrupts him. ‘Sasha did. And now he is dead to us. Is Jane safe?’
‘Yes. With a teammate.’
‘Okay. I am coming to your hotel.’
‘You don't have to-’
‘You are not going to be alone tonight. I'm not letting you wallow in misery.’
‘I do not wallow.’
‘Sure.’ She clicks her tongue. ‘I am coming over anyway.’
‘...Thank you Sveta.’ He sighs, knowing there's no fighting with her.
‘Stay on the phone with me while I get there. I need to tell you about what happened at Natasha's birthday dinner.’ She demands, immediately launching into low stakes gossip to keep him distracted. He smiles to himself as he walks through the foyer of the hotel. He may have lost Shane, but at least he still has his best friend.