Chapter Text
Shane doesn’t understand how he ended up here. Well, he does. Of course he does. It’s just hard to remember right now. Standing here in Ilya’s Ottawa kitchen opposite Harris Drover, a small stack of signed NDA’s resting on the table between them.
It’s all a good idea though. He knows it is. But his breathing is too shallow and he can’t remember why this was supposed to work or how they can even hope to-
“Shane. Shane.” Ilya’s back. Back in the room now, standing in front of him, gripping both his shoulders. “Shane, breathe. We do not have to do this. Not if you do not want to, okay?”
Shane feels himself be tugged forward into Ilya’s arms, the tight grounding pressure pulling him back into his body.
“We do not have to do this, okay sweetheart?”
“No, no.” Shane draws in a deep, slow breath then another. “No, it’s a good idea. I want too. Just, maybe, can we go over it one more time? The plan, I mean?”
“Okay, okay.” Ilya smiles, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before drawing back. “Okay, we can do that, come sit. We can go over everything with Harris first, yes?”
“Yeah, yeah, okay.”
It had started with a stupid listicle Shane should never have read but that somehow turned out to be very useful. Not because of its ridiculous list of ‘Fifteen Ways to Guarantee Happiness in Your First Year of Marriage.’ That had all been fucking useless. Obviously. Shane had been wondering how he’d spiralled deep enough to be reading a paragraph titled ‘Creating harmony and peace when co-habiting with a partner,’ when he’d suddenly seen it. Realised he’d fucked up. Again.
‘When living with a romantic partner, it’s vital you both feel you have equal space and importance within your home as well as your relationship. Simple things like sharing choices around how to decorate the house, or ensuring you both have equal closet space for clothes storage, can go a long way in-”
Okay, never mind the literal closet, that didn’t matter. The actual closet though. The one they were both in together. Except it wasn’t together, was it? Because it wasn’t split equally, not at all. Ilya had tried to tell him that too and Shane had...Fuck, he had got mad and anxious and...and jealous of Barrett, even.
But Ilya had been right. Shane had his parents and Hayden and Jackie, not to mention Rose. Who did Ilya have? Svetlana. That was it.
Someone who spent half her time in Boston and the other half all the way back in Russia.
Sure, Ilya had Shane’s parents too but they weren’t on Ilya’s side of the closet, were they? Shane remembered telling Ilya that didn’t matter. His parents loved Ilya. They would always want to be there if Ilya was having a hard day. But that wasn’t really true. If Ilya was having a bad day then yes, his parents would be there. Of course. Without a doubt. But if Ilya and Shane were having a bad day? If they had a falling out or another fight?
On boxing day Shane had called his Mom. Of course he had. But Ilya? Ilya hadn’t. Ilya couldn’t call on Shane’s parents at a moment like that. Not really. Which was what Ilya had been trying to tell him and Shane had just, what? Dismissed him? Not understood? Again.
This was the reason for reading the stupid advice articles in the first place. Because Shane had missed things. Big, important things and he wasn’t going to do that again. Not if he could help it. So, he’d been trying to...he wasn’t sure exactly. It’s not like you could google 'important things you might miss when in a secret relationship with your depressed arch rival who is bad at talking about his feelings.'
But still, he was going to do better. Ilya would try not to keep things from Shane when he was suffering and Shane would try not to miss the things he should have already known. Like that Ilya had quit a Stanley cup winning team for Shane without once complaining, just to give them a real chance at a relationship. Because Shane had asked him to.
So, no, he was not going to miss anything else if he could help it.
Except he already had, apparently. Fuck.
But no, this was okay. Well, not really but it was okay in that he’d seen it now. He’d got what Ilya had been inexpertly trying to tell him for all this time and so now he could fucking fix it. He could fix it.
Equal closet space. Secret to a happy relationship and all that. Or should that be how to have a happy secret relationship? It wouldn’t even be secret for much longer. Not after this summer. But still, at least he had finally caught on and it wasn’t too late yet. He hadn’t lost Ilya. Ilya was his fiancé. Shane was not going to lose Ilya. Not to a fucking plane crash and not to his own stupid blind spots either.
So Shane had picked up the phone and called Lily. The result of which was that Ilya’s side of the closet now included Troy Barrett, Harris, Bood and Wyatt Hayes. Four people in Ottawa, plus Svetlana. To match Shane’s side of the closet with four people nearby as well as Rose who was forever living in different places.
Then Ilya had decided they should ask Harris for ideas about how to manage the online fallout when they came out this summer. Which was smart. Of course it was.
Somehow all that had brought Shane to right now.
Sat at this table trying to control his breathing, Ilya’s fingers digging into the muscle of his thigh to keep him from spiralling further. All while Harris talked about soft launches and public friendships and the size of their collective online footprint.
“So,” Harris says, “the heart of it really is about motivation, I think. That’s what we came up with when Ilya and I first talked this over?”
“Motivation?” Shane feels like this isn’t getting any clearer.
“Yes,” Harris nods, smiling. “The perception is that you’re rivals, right? Nobody really buys the whole friend angle. It was a good idea but you never followed through on being seen in public outside of the Foundation camps each summer. So it didn’t take off. Got stuck being perceived as a PR friendship instead, by most people at least.”
Shane winces. Just another thing that’s his fault. Ilya’s hand tightens on his thigh and he tries to offer Ilya a smile. Tries not too look so guilty, even though he is, really.
“Hey, no, we are here now,” Ilya cuts in. “We are here now together. That is what matters, yes?”
Shane nods, forces another smile. Under the table he places his hand over Ilya’s. Tangles their fingers together.
“Sorry, sorry,” Harris continues. “Not a criticism. Honestly, I’m just in awe of how long you’ve managed all this. The secrecy and all this press scrutiny and pressure from the league. Anyway, yes, so, everyone thinks you’re rivals. Rivals who are very competitive because you hate each other. But that’s the issue, you see? The truth is, you are competitive because it’s fun and because you are both the only real challenge for each other. Because you push each other. Because it should be lonely at the top but it isn’t because you’re in it together. At least, I think that’s about right? From what Ilya said last time anyway. Does that sound right to you, Shane?”
“Um, yeah, yeah that’s it. Pretty much that, yeah.”
Shane’s chest fills with sudden warmth at the idea of Ilya sitting down and telling Harris all the reasons they have always loved to compete, to push each other. All the same reasons Shane has held tight to for years. Since he was seventeen probably. Even when he could never have admitted to himself how much less alone he felt for sharing the pressure and the spotlight with Ilya.
“So, it’s about motivation,” Harris says again. “People think you two compete so hard because of the hate. We need to show them you can be competitive and like each other at the same time. That the rivalry was never driven by hate. You two compete because its fun. Much easier to go from competitive friends to competitive husbands. That’s a narrative that builds. You can bring people along with you. At the moment, if you take out the hate – like by announcing a marriage – everyone will assume you take out the competitive drive too. That’s what we need to avoid.”
Oh. Right.
“That...” Shane takes a breath. “That actually makes a lot of sense.” More than that, it actually sounds like it might work.
Ilya knocks their shoulders together. “I told you, Harris is very good at his job, yes? Best social media manager in the league.”
Harris laughs. “Enough with the flattery. I’m still not making you a GIF set of every time Hayden Pike has fallen getting off the ice.”
“Ilya, what the fuck? You actually asked for that?”
“But there are so many.” Ilya does his best to look put upon. It’s not really working. “I would not, sweetheart, but he makes it so easy. Professional athlete should not be falling over so often. I cannot help it.”
“You’re an idiot,” Shane says and tries not to look like he’s had that exact same thought watching Hayden fall going over the boards at least twice this month already.
“Anyway, okay,” Shane says, “this....this sounds really good actually. So, how do we convince the internet we’re, what, competitive friends?”
“Shane,” Harris shrugs, “I don’t know if this is the way to say this but...you are competitive friends. I’ll just give you something to compete over, hit record and then edit out all the parts where you look like you’re about to jump each other. I’m documenting you as you are, just with a few things cut out since you’re still in the closet for now. I don’t need you to act like anything but yourself.”
“Oh.”
Shane combs back through half a lifetime of media training and talking to cameras and can’t come up with a single time someone has asked him to be himself on film.
“I’m not sure I know how to do that.”
“Is okay,” Ilya says, smiling at him. “I will be very annoying.”
“What? Why? Why would you do that? Is that supposed to help?”
Ilya shrugs. “Yes, I think so. Probably.”
“Whatever.” Shane turns back to Harris. “Okay, right, so we’ve got the NDA’s Mom had signed for the other staff and today we’re starting with bowling? Is that right?” What he wants to say is ‘Bowling? Really?’ but, well, that would probably be rude.
“Yep,” Harris says, grinning. “Bowling. Should be fun, right? Okay, great, well if everyone is on board then lets head over and get started, shall we?”