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"Go home. Please." Ilya had said, before disappearing upstairs. He sat on his bed for a moment, then lay down and stared at the ceiling for god knew how long, and slowly treaded down the basement to work out.
The lights were off, which meant Shane probably left, like he wanted. Well, he hadn't wanted that. He wanted them to go to Bood's party and then cuddle up in bed after, but he asked Shane to leave, after they fought and Shane asked him a question that made his blood boil and his head hurt. So he asked Shane to leave.
Ilya went to take a shower after working out, then checked the windows one last time to make sure he closed the garage. Shane would always do that when they stayed together, so Ilya picked up the habit. He wondered if Shane got home safely. He hoped Shane would text. He knew he couldn't check. God, he was so tired. He didn't want to kick Shane out, it was cold, and it was Boxing Day, and he was hoping to spend it with his boyfriend, team or no team. But he was hurting, Shane was breaking his fucking heart, and he was afraid he might hurt Shane's too. So he checked the windows one last time before bed.
Except Shane's car was still in the driveway. The lights were off, but the car was there. Shane couldn't have gone anywhere then, because the car was there before it was snowing, and there was no trace of it in the snow. Ilya felt panic rising in his lungs in place of fatigue, what if Shane never went and was sitting around in the living room waiting for Ilya to calm down so they could talk and Ilya had almost let him stay until dawn? What if Shane couldn't drive after a fight and Ilya had just exiled him into the cold night? God, what if Shane was walking home? Ilya wasn't sure, and his thoughts were racing and stepping on each other, so he ran downstairs. The room was dark, just like the last time he went down, and there was no trace of Shane on the couch, and he definitely wasn't in the kitchen either. Ilya sprinted outside, and he saw a dark silhouette sitting oddly still in the car.
"Shane?" He knocked.
The man in the car felt more like a wax statue than a person, staring blankly ahead into nothing at all, and it seemed he didn't hear Ilya. So he tried again, louder.
"Shane? Shane!" Ilya was banging on the window. It made Shane flinch, at least, and when he turned to Ilya, panic welled in his eyes. Ilya kept knocking. "Shane, open the door!"
He listened, and at the soft click of the lock, Ilya pulled the door with such a force he felt it shaking. He couldn't care less, though, because up close, the tear streaks on Shane's cheeks were visible.
"Shane, my love, how long have you…?" He could guess an answer, but he was dreading it, hoping Shane would say he had just gotten in the car and was about to leave.
"I'm sorry." Shane said, his voice languid. "I'm sorry. I was leaving, but the car won't start, and I… uh… I was going to call my dad, have him pick me up, I can stay there and… um… yeah, I'll take their car, or, you know. Yeah."
"Shane." Ilya pleaded. "How long have you been sitting here?"
"Like, after you told me to go?" He looked confused now. "Why?"
"Do you know what time it is?"
Shane was clearly thinking about an answer, but he just shook his head eventually. Ilya could hear his heart shattering again. He wasn't sure how many more he could take in a single day.
"Come back inside." He offered.
"No, uh, you need space, I'll just call dad, he'll get here in a second, I won't… um…"
"Please." Ilya reached for his hands, and they were cold as ice. "Shane."
Shane stared at him for a second, and Ilya saw something softened in his eyes before he finally relented.
"Yeah, okay."
They locked Shane's car and Ilya took him inside. Shane was only wearing a hoodie and a long sleeve, he was probably expecting to just sit in the warmth of the car while driving. The thought of sending Shane with tears falling down his eyes to a two hour car drive made Ilya's stomach curl, and he was terrified more than he was angry now. The car was freezing when he opened it, how could Shane have not noticed?
He pushed Shane down the couch and went to get some hot water. He would make tea, but the idea of waiting for tea even five seconds got him impatient, so he carefully handed Shane the mug with boiled water mixed with cold tap. Shane held it in his hands, and Ilya wasn't sure if he knew he was to drink it. He gently nudged Shane's hand, looking at the mug and then at Shane.
"I'm sorry." Shane blurted out once more. "You wanted space, and I'm— sorry."
He wasn't looking at Ilya, he was looking at a point just past Ilya's shoulders, at the wall or a book on the shelf. Ilya felt his body turning into lead. He was still so, so tired. It was worse now, that Shane wasn't looking at him. At least when they fought a few hours ago, they were looking at each other, even as they spit out venom and their eyes shot daggers. Ilya would have preferred that, than this Shane who hadn't really said anything other than sorry and that he was leaving. He wanted to pick a fight again, to make Shane look at him, to ask Shane to tell him just why he was so apologetic now. But he couldn't. Not when Shane's cheeks still looked sticky from the tears, not when his hands were softly trembling holding on to the mug. Ilya wanted to hug him more, now, so he did. He carefully lifted the mug, then manoeuvred Shane into his arms. He didn't have to try, really, because Shane all but collapsed into him, his hands suddenly alive again and clinging on Ilya's hoodie like a clutch. He was so cold. His cheeks pressed into Ilya's neck like an ice pack, and his sweater felt more like snow than fabric.
"You sat there for five hours, you know that?" Ilya asked, finally. He felt Shane's body stiffen.
"Was it that long?"
"Is the car okay?"
"The engine turned on, heater and all, but the it wouldn't start." Shane explained. "I tried a few times."
Ilya decided he wasn't going to ask why Shane didn't come in, or called David like he clearly planned to. He had a feeling he wouldn't like the answer.
"I'm…" Shane started again, and Ilya squeezed his waist before cutting in.
"No more sorries." He said. "Please, my love, you are breaking my heart."
Shane hid himself in the crook of Ilya's neck, then, his voice came out barely a whisper.
"I would never want that." His voice was breaking. "I didn't mean to throw that question back at you, I just, I don’t know, I…"
"Shane—"
"I don’t know, Ilya." Shane was choking on his words now. "I want to, but I don’t, and I'm doing it wrong, and I'm hurting you, but I don’t know why, I don’t know how to fix it, I don’t know."
Ilya wanted to pull Shane off to look at him, but Shane only clutched harder, buried his face impossibly deeper. Ilya could feel his shoulder getting wet, but Shane wouldn't even let Ilya look at him.
"I know you sacrificed a lot for me, for us, and I'm s— I mean, I take it for granted, and I shouldn't, and I don’t, I need you to know that I don’t. I love you, Ilya, I don’t want to break your heart, I just keep doing it wrong."
Ilya was crying, too, he couldn't stand seeing Shane like this. Shane had never cried this much before, Ilya had seen him tear up once or twice, but they were almost always one or two drops of tears before he wiped it off. Shane wasn't a crier, but he was sobbing in Ilya's arms talking about how he didn't know what to do with Ilya.
"I'm sorry for not letting you have someone to talk to." Shane began, and Ilya needed to stop him. He was apologising again, and Ilya couldn't bear it. "I didn't realise you had no one, I'm so caught up in my mess that I didn't know you were lonely and upset you couldn't tell anyone. I'm sorry."
"Are you not?" Ilya asked. "Keeping us a secret? Are you not upset?"
"It kills me." Shane's voice was so brittle and small. "Everyday. I want to be with you all the time, I want your pictures on my phone, I want your clothes on the couch in my apartment and I want to tell all my friends we're in love. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, but I can't talk about you."
"Oh, my love…"
"But I figured the pain was worth it." Shane continued. "Even if I just get you for Christmas, or summer, or every other week and I'd have to feel like dying over and over again, as long as I can see you and be with you, it's worth it."
Ilya hadn't even thought of it this way. To him, the distance was an obstacle, a nuisance, something he hated seeing, a torture in the way of his happiness. To Shane, apparently, it was torture too, but it was something he willingly endured if it meant having Ilya.
"J.J. thinks I'm in love with you." He suddenly said. "He thought I was in love with my straight best friend who doesn't love me back. I wanted to tell him you do, that not only do you love me too, that you are the most important person to me, that I have never loved anyone as much as you, that most of the time I love you so much my heart hurts."
"Why don’t you?"
Shane finally, finally pulled back to let Ilya see his face. His eyes were swollen, and he was hiccuping every other word, the tears still welling up, but at least he was looking at Ilya.
"I don’t want to share you with anyone." Shane confessed. "If I could, I'd keep you all to myself. I hate every second you're not around and telling people about us means I'll have to listen to them talk about it, and I… I just can't, Ilya. You're too important, I don’t want anyone to touch you, or us, or anything we have. I know I sound selfish, but I can't… you're everything to me. I can't lose you."
His last four words felt like a plea, and sounded so quiet it was almost a whisper. Ilya decided they couldn't talk about it any longer, it was clearly hurting Shane, and it was killing Ilya just as much seeing Shane like this. So he placed a gentle kiss on Shane's lips, and guided him up off the couch.
"You will never lose me." He assured Shane, then led him up the ensuite bathroom.
Shane was still hiccuping by the time they got to the bath, and Ilya ran a hot stream of water as he peeled off Shane's clothes. He waited for the bathtub to fill, then guided Shane into it, sitting behind him as he started rubbing Shane's shoulders. He thought about a few things, as he lathered shampoo on Shane's hair and massaged his scalp. It seemed as though the idea of people knowing about them meant completely different scenarios for him and Shane, and where he was with Ottawa, a happy, inclusive team that didn't care if anyone was gay or straight as long as they were a good person, the case may not be the same for Montreal. It wasn't the same in Boston, either, with slurs thrown around every other sentence. Coming out with their relationship meant different things for them too, where Ilya considered a relief and freedom, Shane felt it was giving everyone else a microscope into their lives, poking their noses in places none of their business. Ilya supposed both could be true. He supposed that meant Shane loved him too much to let anyone else in, and while Ilya didn't understand it, his heart had stopped breaking.
"I know you already chose me over hockey," Shane murmured, his voice raspy. "I need you to know that I would too, I'd choose you over everything. I love you."
It sounded silly now, didn't it, their entire back and forth. Of course they would choose each other, they already had when they decided to be boyfriends. Shane had accepted he was risking his career and legacy just for loving Ilya, and Ilya did too.
"I know, I am sorry I asked. Of course you would." He kissed Shane's temple. "I love you so much, my Shane."
He reached for the shower head and rinsed off the shampoo, then finished off the bath quickly and wrapped Shane up in a warm towel. He still looked a little dishevelled when they finally went to bed, but as Ilya pulled the blanket on the both of them, he saw Shane's lips curled up into a faintest smile, and tucked Shane deep into his chest.
"I love you." Shane said.
"I love you too." Ilya replied, smoothing out Shane's hair and kissing the crown of his head.
Shane fell asleep hard and fast, his snores ever so slightly audible, making Ilya chuckle into his hair. He couldn't sleep yet, which was strange, because a mere hour ago he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes. But having Shane in his arms again after he cried his heart out to Ilya, that alone kept him up. He started replaying the argument, the entire afternoon and everything they said. He supposed he could admit he had sprung the idea onto Shane without any prior discussion or planning, which was often what stressed his boyfriend out. He shouldn't have done that. He also didn't really address the true issue he had, which was that he felt lonely. He could admit he was blinded by hurt and Shane's reluctance, and hurt Shane back in that process. He would never want to do that, but he did, and he made Shane cry. He would like to not make Shane cry, it almost ripped his heart out and torn it in half when it happened that night.
Shane said he didn't know a lot, which made sense, because Ilya hadn't wanted to tell him he wasn't okay until he was fixed, so Shane didn't have to worry about him. The problem with that was during the process of getting fixed, Ilya was making Shane worry, that Ilya didn't want that at all. So he could try being honest with Shane about therapy and about his fucked up mind.
Shane was, for some reason, deeply terrified of losing Ilya, which both warmed his soul and sent a chill down his spine. He was happy he was important to Shane, but seeing him so panicked about losing Ilya raised some concerns. Shane should know that Ilya would cling to him even if he was dragged away by an elephant, and in no world would Ilya Rozanov survive without Shane Hollander.
He devised a plan for the following morning, before Shane had to drive back to Montreal for his practice and game, and in any other circumstances, Ilya was sure Shane would be immensely turned on by his planning skills. But another day.
Ilya kissed Shane again, for good measure, then curled up against Shane's body, whom gripped him so much tighter than he was.
Shane's alarm went off very early, a habit he practiced that allowed them an extra hour before he had to leave.
"Hey." Shane whispered.
"Mornin'. I love you." Ilya smiled.
Shane exhaled at that, and murmured an "I love you" back to Ilya. They managed to crawl out of bed and got breakfast ready in a timely manner, and as they were sitting next to each other on the bar stool, Ilya turned to Shane.
"I want to talk to you, before you have to go."
"Oh," Shane's eyes went wide, and Ilya could see the panic rising, so he had to stop it by kissing the tip of Shane's nose. That seemed to do the trick. "Okay."
"I don't know if I can keep hiding us." Ilya began, trying to steady his voice. "I love you, and when I hide it from my friends, it kills me. I want everyone to know I love you, and you love me back. I don’t know if I can wait another ten years."
"I get that, you don’t have a lot of people that are just yours to talk to, I was scared about people knowing, that's why I was defensive." Shane said slowly. "Do you have, um, people you want to tell the most?"
"Troy, maybe, because he is gay and would understand. He is not the asshole he used to be."
"Okay, I trust your judgement on that."
"Wyatt, he has a lesbian sister and they are very close."
"Wyatt Hayes? I like him, he's always nice to me on All Stars."
"Just those two first, I think, but I like my team."
Shane nodded thoughtfully. Then he added.
"I want to tell J.J. too, if that's okay. He's already guessed half of it. It would be nice to actually tell someone about us for once, without being walked in on or them guessing." He reached out to Ilya's hand. "It's funny, whenever my friends knew I'm gay, they always find out I'm in love with you."
"You are very bad at keeping secrets, then." Ilya teased.
"Okay heart eyes."
"I think you should tell J.J., if that is something you want." He switched to a more serious note. "I am sorry, when I said last night you get to tell people. I know you were not ready for most of those conversations."
"Yeah, it's weird." Shane agreed. "Rose told me I was gay, but I told her about us willingly. I came out to Hayden, but he basically did the guesswork about us, and Jackie knew by proxy. And my dad walked in on us. It's probably nice to tell someone both of those things on my own terms for once. Would be nice for you too, to come out about us to your friends."
For how much he stopped Shane's apologies last night, Ilya felt like he would have a few to say today.
"I have also been seeing a therapist." He finally admitted.
Up so close, Ilya could see the hurt flashing through Shane's eyes. He quickly gathered his emotions, though, and smiled as he tried putting on the most supportive face.
"That's really good. For how long?"
"A few months." Shane's face fell, and Ilya quickly supplied. "I wanted to fix myself, then tell you, so it can be water under bridge and you do not have to worry about me. But I do not think I will be fixed soon. I am sorry."
"Oh, Ilya, baby." Shane cooed, his hands flew to the back of Ilya's beck. "There's nothing about you needs to be fixed. But I'm so happy you got help. I was worried."
"I know, is why I went. I do not want you to worry."
"I want to. I love worrying about you. I hated all the years we wasted when all I wanted to ask you is if you were okay." Shane played with the hair on Ilya's nape. "Let me worry about you, please, I've earned it."
God, the way Ilya's burden in Shane's eyes was a gift, he would never understand. He couldn't deserve Shane, surely this was a miracle blessed to him via all the good deeds his mama did.
"Okay, I will try telling you more. Is not easy for me, you know?"
"Yeah, I know, it's okay. I'll be here whenever you need me." Shane kissed him, his lips so soft and sweet it felt like maple syrup on pancakes. Even better, because he could run out of pancakes, but he would never run out of kisses from Shane. As they broke apart, Shane continued. "About the plan, I'll make changes. We'll come up with something sooner, maybe the end of the season, or by the time you've had your permanent residency card. We'll keep you safe from Russia, then come out."
"You would change the plan for me?" Ilya was bewildered at the quick change of pace. He had thought Shane needed time to make his mind up over the plan, but it looked like Shane went to bed and woke up with a whole new one.
"The plan is about us, and if one of us isn't happy with it, we'll change it." Shane shrugged, as if changes weren't historically catastrophic to him. "You're all I want, Ilya."
Ilya all but melted into Shane, feeling like he might cry all over again. Shane, his Shane, already one step in flipping his whole life over because Ilya was unhappy, his Shane, who would suffer for him, would change for him, would take every leap for him.
"Is like you were made for me." Ilya was still in awe. "You are so perfect."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm not. Which is why you have to tell me when something's wrong. I've been so worried about you, and I don't know how to say it without scaring you."
"'M sorry." Ilya rubbed his nose on Shane's shoulder. "I will try."
"Good, because I can't live without you. I mean it."
"I am sorry I ambushed you." Ilya spoke again. "I wanted to go to a party with you, but I should have said something before that."
"It's okay, I shouldn't have overreacted."
"No, I know you do not do well with sudden changes and I still did that, is my fault. I am sorry."
"I forgive you. Will you forgive me for the things I said that hurt you?"
"Always."
They had to part, eventually, which was cruel and unfair and left the both of them in shambles as they reached the door. David was already parked outside, with a promise to get Shane's car towed and fixed and sent back to him as soon as possible. As Shane took the keys from his dad, his hand still lingered on Ilya's. He could tell Shane didn't want to leave, and he had something else to say, so he pulled Shane gently.
"I'm a free agent after this season." Shane said. "And I've been talking to Farah."
Ilya was confused. Neither Shane nor Farah had ever shown any indication of changing teams for Shane, so why all of a sudden?
"Montreal wasn't… great with my coming out. They didn't necessarily protect me after my meeting with Crowell, and playing with them hadn't really been fun anymore, and being away from you is just…" Shane paused, his eyes glassy again. "It's so hard, Ilya. I don't know if I can do until retirement either."
"Shane, what are you saying?" Ilya refused to get his hopes up.
"Farah said Ottawa will probably be happy to make cap space for me, if that means they have a strong first and second line. You're shaping them up so well now, they'd do anything to solidify their playoff chances next year." Shane explained. A few steps away, David was talking to the car people over the phone. "I didn't want to tell you until we were certain, but if I were to move to Ottawa…"
"Yes, Shane, please." Ilya all but begged, scooping Shane into his arms, almost crushing his boyfriend. "Yes, trade them all. Kick Dillon out, he's dogshit. Sell some people, hell, I can take pay cut. I can make the others take pay cut if that means you are with me."
"Ilya, that's on Farah…" Shane giggled.
"Don't care, I am sure no team will free cap space because they don't think you are leaving. I will be first. I will take pay cut, and you can be my rich sugar daddy." Ilya waggled his eyebrows at Shane, who scoffed and swatted his chest.
"It's ideal if neither of us have to take a pay cut, Farah is really good at her job."
"I am sure Hazy will take a dime if that means he will never have to play against you again."
"Don't tell anyone, though, or you'll be accused of collusion."
Ilya just had to kiss Shane after this, oh, the love of his life was working all this time to be close to him, while Ilya was resenting him. The love of his life, the one always with a plan, had been planning this long just so they can be closer, just because the distance had been cruel on them both. Oh, Shane, his Shane, perfect, wonderful, kind, beautiful Shane. His boyfriend and soon to be teammate, if the cards were all dealt right, Shane.
"I love you so much." Ilya cupped Shane's face, dropping a kiss on his nose. "I love you."
"I love you too, but I've got to go, I'll be late for practice." Shane smiled and kissed his palm, waving a final goodbye as he got on the road.
Ilya silently thanked Shane's car engine for its breakdown. So much for good in snow. At least it broke just in time for them to have the talks they did. He couldn't imagine sending Shane off like that after the fight, and he was so thankful he didn't have to. He had an appointment with Galina in the afternoon, which he would tell her all about their conversations, and Galina could tell him how brave he and Shane both were for talking things out. Life was great. Life could be even better, soon.