Archive of Our Own

Ilya feels like a fucking idiot. Not only did he rob himself of an entire day with Shane but he has potentially completely destroyed their relationship over something Shane was well within his rights to say no to (or over asking him a dumb fucking question in the heat of his anger). Now he's sitting here, surrounded by his teammates, wondering if it's too late to ask if Boston will take him back. Not that he actually wants to go back to Boston or would even seriously consider it even if he and Shane are done.

"Wait, why do we hate Adrian Dela Cruz?" Holmberg asks, mouth full of potato salad.

"He cheated on Troy," Luca mutters. "For like, half of their relationship."

"You dated Adrian Dela Cruz?" Holmberg gasps. "Holy shit, I loved him in…nothing. Absolutely nothing. Fuck that guy."

"Thank you," Troy snorts, arm around Luca's waist. Ilya is happy for him but also kind of fucking hates him right now. He just gets to sit here, openly affectionate with his boyfriend who plays on the same fucking team as him so he gets to see him all the time, and not worry about his career ending because of who he loves.

"Ok so none of us are ever seeing one of his movies again, right?"

"You don't have to do that," Troy says. "I'm fine. I've found better."

"I mean obviously you found better," Hazy chimes in from where he's lying down with his head in Lisa's lap. "But we can still boycott the cheating motherfucker."

"And his scumbag fiance," Dykstra adds. There's a murmur of agreement through the group, a couple of supportive slaps on Troy's back and Ilya is so goddamn miserable he thinks he might cave in on himself. Maybe if he just takes a moment alone he can fucking pull himself together, can contribute to the conversation in something other than grunts. He can already tell half the team knows something is wrong and he really doesn't want to have to come up with a lie about why he's so fucking depressed tonight.

"I need the bathroom," Ilya announces as he stands up, heading into the house without another word. He splashes cold water on his face once he's in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror for a few seconds without blinking until his eyes start to hurt. "It is ok I am upset seeing something I cannot have. It is not Troy and Luca's fault I have to hide the man I love. It is so fucking unfair that I cannot love Shane publicly. I have pushed him away because I asked for too much and was an asshole. Fuck."

"Roz, you ok in there?"

"Fine, Hazy. I will be out soon." It's a half-truth. Ilya will leave the bathroom, but he's far from fine. Maybe he should just go home and wallow in silence, turn his phone back on for the inevitable phone call from Shane breaking up with him.

"You're unusually quiet tonight," Wyatt says as Ilya steps into the hallway. "You sure you're ok?"

"Fine," Ilya repeats. "Tired. Big road trip coming."

"Yeah," Wyatt nods. "Gonna suck to be away from home for so long. Such is the life of a hockey player, hey?"

"Yes," Ilya sighs. Wyatt claps him on the shoulder before squeezing past him into the bathroom, leaving Ilya alone in the hallway. He can hear voices spilling in from the deck but can't currently separate them from each other, the sounds blurring together into one big jumble. He wonders if he could get away with slipping quietly out the front door and texting an apologetic goodbye from the car.

"Roz will be back soon, he just went to the bathroom," he hears Bood say, which is weird because everyone had been there when Ilya had awkwardly announced just that to the group. Ilya rounds the corner, figuring the least he can do is say goodbye to everyone properly, coming face to face with -

"Shane?"

"Hey," Shane breathes. Shane. Shane Hollander, standing right in front of him. "Can we talk? I - I need to talk to you. In private."

"Ok," Ilya replies evenly. "We can - this way." It's decent of Shane, Ilya supposes, to break up with him in person. He's maybe a bit of a dick for doing it here when Ilya won't be able to explain why he's now crying uncontrollably, but maybe it'll be nice to not be alone in the immediate aftermath of horrible soul-crushing heartbreak. Shane follows Ilya inside and down the hallway, past the bathroom and into the guest bedroom. Shane closes the door behind them and sits on the edge of the bed, hands twisting in his lap. He looks about as anxious as Ilya feels as he gestures for Ilya to sit next to him, which Ilya does tentatively. He doubts Shane is coming out to him again.

"I'm sorry," Shane breathes. "Fuck, I am so fucking sorry. I was such an asshole this morning, I can't - I made it halfway back to Montreal before I realised that I couldn't leave things like this. I stayed at Mom and Dad's for a couple of hours working up the nerve to come here because your phone is off so I texted Wyatt for Bood's address and made up some lie about an urgent foundation matter and -"

"Shane -"

"I'm scared, ok? I'm so fucking scared of people finding out," Shane chokes out. "But not because I'm ashamed of you, Ilya. It's not that. People will fucking tear us apart, it will be all anyone talks about. And I -"

"Shane -"

"Shut up and let me get this out," Shane huffs, standing up to start pacing. "I love you so fucking much. I am so proud to be with you and I don't tell you that enough. So if you want to tell your team we're together, then we go and do that right now. You said you trust them, so let's tell them."

"We don't have to do that," Ilya insists. "I am sorry I sprung coming here tonight on you out of nowhere, it was not fair. You were right to say no, Shane."

"Not like that, I wasn't," Shane shakes his head, sitting back down and squeezing one of Ilya's hands. "I'm terrified, but I'm choosing you over my fear. I will always choose you, no matter what. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me and the most important thing in my life, got it? We have worked too fucking hard to be together to give up, we love each other too much."

"I love you," Ilya whispers, emotion clogging his throat as relief courses through him. He hasn't ruined them. Shane is here, Shane is choosing him. "Are you sure about this?"

"If you're sure we can trust them to not tell anyone, then I want to do it," Shane states. His voice is only shaking a little as he gets up again and stands in front of Ilya, placing his hands on either side of Ilya's face and leaning in to kiss him softly. Unable to help himself, Ilya tugs Shane into his lap and wraps his arms around Shane's waist. He half-expects Shane to pull away from him or to tell him off but Shane leans into the embrace and slips his tongue into Ilya's mouth, wrapping his legs around Ilya and relaxing on top of him. Ilya takes the full weight of Shane's body happily, humming into his mouth as they stop kissing to just hold each other.

"I'm sorry," Ilya whispers again. "I love you."

"I love you too," Shane murmurs, face buried in Ilya's neck. They need to talk about this more, Ilya knows. Galina would tell him that just apologising and trying to move past something like this isn't enough, it doesn't solve anything. But for tonight Ilya thinks they can table it and just be together.

"We should go back out," Ilya hums. "Or they might send someone to make sure we have not killed each other."

"I think they'd be less shocked by that than what we're about to tell them," Shane snorts, leaning back. There are tear tracks on his face that Ilya uses his thumbs to wipe away, kissing both cheeks before easing Shane completely off his lap and standing up.

"You are sure about this?" Ilya asks again, giving Shane one more chance to back out. Ilya will keep hiding if that's what Shane wants - he'd hide forever if it meant getting to be with Shane.

"No," Shane answers honestly. "But I want to do it anyway."

"Ok," Ilya breathes. "Then let's go do it."

🍖🎄🍗

Nobody really takes notice when Shane and Ilya step back out onto the deck, chatter continuing around them as people serve themselves food and bicker over the seats closest to the fire.

"You're an infant, you can sit on the floor," Dykstra huffs, nudging Holmberg with his foot.

"I'm twenty-one and six feet tall, you dick," Holmberg grumbles, staying right where he is. "Why can't Haas move? His boyfriend is right there, they can share a chair."

"Boyfriend?" Shane whispers to Ilya, stepping closer.

"Barrett," Ilya tells him, laughing as Shane's eyes widen. "I had not told you yet."

"No you did not. They're out? Like, everyone knows?"

"Out to the team, yes. Told us a few weeks ago, nobody was surprised. Enough of us had caught them kissing that pretty much everybody knew by the time they told us officially," Ilya shrugs. He'd been unfortunate enough to walk in on them almost completely naked one night in Troy and Ilya's shared hotel room in Colorado when Troy and Luca both thought Ilya was going to be gone for a few hours. Luca has now settled himself into Troy's lap, an arm looped casually around Troy's neck as they navigate eating their food.

"And nobody has told anyone outside of the team?"

"Well you did not know they are together and we both know how fast gossip travels in the league," Ilya snorts. "So no, the news has not left the team. I think maybe they are planning to come out publicly soon."

"Wow," Shane breathes. "Ok, that helps the anxiety a little. You ready?"

"Ready," Ilya grins, absolutely buzzing with anticipation. This is their moment - it's overwhelming and it's fucking scary, but it's theirs.

"You wanna grab a plate, Hollander?" Bood asks from the grill, pointing to the table covered in food. "We've got plenty of stuff to choose from."

"Uh, yeah. In a minute. We, um. We -" Shane's media training never prepared him for this, so Ilya takes pity and speaks up.

"You've all met Shane on the ice," Ilya interrupts. "Some of you are lucky enough to know him off the ice as well. But tonight I want to properly introduce you all to Shane as my boyfriend."

"Hey," Shane waves only slightly awkwardly. "Nice to meet you all properly."

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? Because I think I just heard Ilya Rozanov tell us that Shane Hollander is his boyfriend," Wyatt says quietly. "Did everyone else hear that?"

"That's what I heard," Troy says. Luca has completely frozen in his lap, eyes wide and flitting between Shane and Ilya.

"You heard right," Shane affirms, taking Ilya's hand into his own. He grips Ilya tight, tugging Ilya even closer before letting go of his hand to slip an arm around his waist. Ilya knows how big this simple gesture feels to Shane, knows he's probably still panicking a little, so he resists the urge to kiss him. Barely.

"Wow, ok. Is this a recent development?" Bood asks. He's abandoned the grill in favour of perching himself on the edge of Cassie's chair but all Ilya can focus on is the fact that nobody is freaking out. Some of them look a little confused and some of them looked like they think they might be hallucinating, but nobody is freaking out and nobody looks disgusted.

"Ah, no," Ilya laughs softly. "No, we have been together for years. Three officially, but uh…"

"We've been together in some capacity since the summer before our rookie season," Shane finishes. "So around ten and a half years."

"Holy shit," Luca breathes. "Hollanov is real?"

"What?" Shane asks, nose scrunched and eyebrows furrowed.

"Nothing! Fuck, nothing. Forget I said anything," Luca sputters, now bright red and turning to hide his face in Troy's shoulder. Troy pats his back consolingly and whispers in his ear, pressing a kiss to the top of Luca's head. The casual affection between the two of them has been a sore point for Ilya since they came out to the team, but it doesn't fucking matter anymore because Shane is standing next to him as his boyfriend and everyone is being chill about it (not that Ilya thought anyone here would be particularly un-chill about it).

"We will look that up later," Ilya stage whispers.

"Please don't," Luca groans. "For your own mental health and mine, please do not look it up."

"I'm looking it up," Ilya states firmly. Luca makes a strangled sound that might be distress or might be embarrassment. Ilya's sure he'll figure it out soon enough.

"I'm guessing nobody else knows?" Wyatt asks gently.

"Just a few people. Shane's parents found out the day after we said I love you for the first time," Ilya explains.

"Wow, you told them that soon?"

"Was an accident. Shane's father walked in on us kissing at Shane's cottage," Ilya shrugs. "Rose Landry knows, but that was on purpose."

"Oh shit, I forgot you dated her," Bood snorts.

"I wish I could forget he dated her," Ilya mutters and is poked, hard, in the side by Shane.

"She's your friend now too," Shane reminds him in a hissed whisper. "You literally sent her a photo of your outfit for the charity press event last week."

"Hayden Pike knows, unfortunately. He is apparently not as stupid as I thought because he figured it out all by himself," Ilya continues, ignoring Shane's protests. "Ryan Price knows too."

"Pricey knows?"

"Accident as well," Ilya tells them. "We forgot to lock office door at charity camp."

"The camp?" Wyatt gasps. "Dude, what -"

"Was end of the day, we thought everyone had gone home," Ilya explains dismissively. He maintains it was not their fault that Ryan walked into the room without knocking first.

"And," Shane interjects quickly. "We were just kissing. He didn't see anything traumatising. We weren't even doing anything the second time."

"I think he was still traumatised," Ilya snorts. "And we have learned to lock doors now."

"You could just not make out where people can find you. I can't believe you got caught three times," Troy laughs, quickly snapping his mouth shut when everyone starts yelling at him.

"Nobody else knows other than them, and we'd like to keep it that way. I don't think we need to explain to you how fucking disastrous it would be for our careers if this got out," Shane states, voice surprisingly calm. Ilya is so fucking proud of him and loves him so fucking much.

"Of course, this stays with us," Bood agrees quickly. Everyone nods and Ilya feels tension drain out of Shane as he finally relaxes into Ilya's hold. People shuffle and move, making room for Shane to sit in a chair. Ilya sits on the floor in front of him, between his legs with his head resting on Shane's thigh. In front of his team.

Because they're out to his team now.

"You ok?" Ilya asks quietly, tilting his head back to look Shane in the eye. Shane's face is mostly relaxed and his smile actually reaches his eyes as he threads his fingers through Ilya's curls and scratches at his scalp. Shane nods and rests his other hand on Ilya's shoulder, not flinching or pulling away when Ilya kisses it and then rests his head on top of it. This might be the best day of Ilya's life.

"You were right," Shane murmurs. "They're good people."

"Fuck yeah, we are!" Holmberg shouts, raising his drink in the air. Holmberg probably needs to switch to water and go to bed.

"I'm sorry we didn't do this sooner," Shane says, hand tightening in Ilya's hair a little.

"Stop," Ilya huffs. "Enough apologising. You are here now. We are good. Team loves you already, yes?"

"You're an honourary Centaur, Hollander," Dykstra says, clapping Shane on the shoulder. "You're welcome any time."

"Eat," Bood instructs. "We've got a bit of everything. I can make you a plate?"

"I've got it," Ilya says, hauling himself off the ground. There isn't much here that Shane will eat and Ilya knows how uncomfortable Shane would be having to talk Bood through his dietary restrictions, so he grabs some of the leftover plain grilled chicken that had been cooked for the kids and some of the undressed salads. Shane thanks him quietly and pulls him in for a brief kiss, blushing furiously when someone whistles.

"This is my life now, isn't it?" Shane mumbles, grinning at Ilya as he returns to his spot on the floor.

"Yes," Ilya agrees. "You're stuck with us."

"Nowhere else I'd rather be," Shane sighs, kissing the top of Ilya's head. Ilya couldn't agree more.

🍖🎄🍗

Later, when they're curled up in Ilya's bed together, Ilya pulls his phone out and carefully types 'Hollanov' into the search bar. There are thousands of hits - Twitter, Tumblr, fansites, and something called Archive of Our Own fill Ilya's screen.

"Huh," he says as Shane wriggles so he can see the phone as well. "This is certainly something."

"Type Luca's name in after," Shane suggests with a snort. "He definitely seemed like he was trying to hide something before."

"You're evil," Ilya grins, coming across…well. "Would this be mine and Luca's names together? Nevermind, I will message Troy."

Ilya: Are you with Luca right now?

Troy: Who else would I be with?

Ilya: Please say the word Haasanov out loud and tell me exactly how he reacts.

Troy: Why would I do that?

Ilya: Because I am your captain and best friend.

Troy: Fine.

"Troy is going to kill you if you break Luca," Shane tells him with a sigh. "I take no part in this."

"You are the one who told me to do it!"

"I didn't tell you to ask him about it," Shane retorts, rolling away from Ilya to grab the packet of wipes Ilya now keeps in a drawer for when they're too fucked out to get up.

Troy: I think you broke him.

Troy: What the fuck is Haasanov, he won't tell me.

Ilya: Haas + Rozanov.

Ilya: Your boyfriend used to have giant crush on me, you did not know this?

Troy: I knew this.

Troy: What I did not know was the extent of it.

Troy: Ok he is legitimately distressed over this, please confirm you and Shane aren't weirded out so I can stop him trying to move us to Florida?

Ilya: We are not weirded out. Shane is maybe a little confused but he really likes the drawing Luca did of us asleep on the couch together.

"He's really good," Shane muses, zooming in on his own face.

"Got your freckles in the right place and everything," Ilya points out, sweeping his thumbs over real-Shane's face. "Maybe he had your poster over his bed too."

"I wanna print this out and frame it," Shane murmurs.

"Put it up at the cottage?" Ilya suggests tentatively. "Next to one from commercial?"

"No," Shane sighs, shaking his head. "I'll put it up here. Both of them."

"Shane, you do not have to -"

"I want to be less careful," Shane nods decisively. "Nothing - nothing crazy. Not yet. But maybe we can just…I don't know, be a little more publicly present in each other's lives? Post casual photos when we hang out, put pictures up in our homes, that kind of stuff maybe?"

"Shane," Ilya croaks. Three hours ago he'd been convinced he'd ruined his life by asking for too much, by pushing too hard. Now, Shane is sitting here saying he wants to start letting go of the secrecy they've both been clinging to so hard. Ilya rolls over so he's on top of Shane, pressing their foreheads together and sniffling in what he's sure is an incredibly unattractive way.

"You know you're it for me, don't you? There won't ever be anyone else and I want to do this right," Shane insists. "Hiding and being scared isn't doing it right."

"Ok," Ilya whispers. "Yes, ok. I'm going to cover my walls with pictures of you."

"Get my face painted on your bedroom wall," Shane grins, hands settling in Ilya's hips. "That way I'm always watching."

"Mmm, maybe I can pay Luca to do that one."

"That might actually kill him," Shane laughs.

Troy: Now he's talking about moving into a cave in the Swiss Alps.

Troy: FIX THIS!

Ilya: I will call now.

"Look, I know you're just teasing," Troy says, picking up on the first ring, "but he's really embarrassed."

"Put us on speakerphone," Ilya instructs, ignoring Troy's heavy sigh as he rolls off Shane to sit against the headboard.

"I'm really -" Luca starts.

"Luca, we want to print some of your drawings to put in our houses," Ilya interrupts, recognising the beginning of panic when he hears it. "Breathe. We love them."

"Really? I have been meaning to delete that blog since you joined the team but I need to make sure that I still have the backups on my computer in Switzerland -"

"Haas, you are going to talk yourself into a panic attack. Do not delete anything. How does it work if we want to have your art in our homes?"

"Fuck. Uh, I don't - nobody has ever asked me that before," Luca laughs, only sounds a little hysterical. "I could ask my sister to send me the originals of the ones you want and order prints? Or, uh…I could draw new ones?" Luca's voice is tentative and Ilya can hear Troy murmuring softly in the background, sheets rustling faintly.

"We will work out details later," Ilya states. "Stop freaking out, Haas. Your work is excellent. Do not be embarrassed about being right about us."

"I still cannot believe I was right," Luca whispers. "The whole time. I - the whole time."

"Yes, yes, you are brilliant genius who knew our secret without knowing that you knew our secret," Ilya sighs, attention almost entirely taken by Shane starting to drift to sleep tucked up against him. "We will talk more tomorrow. Sleep and stop panicking, yes? I already knew you were my biggest fan."

"Oh my god," Luca groans. "I am hanging up now. Goodnight."

"Goodni- ah, he hung up," Ilya snorts. "Well. I do not think I expected today to go this way at all."

"I don't ever want to hear the word Hollanov again," Shane mumbles, tugging Ilya to lie down and resting his head on Ilya's chest. "Is that a normal thing? People thinking hockey players are fucking? There was so much stuff about us, Ilya."

"Maybe," Ilya shrugs. "I have never paid too much attention to it. I do not think these people actually know anything, is just fantasy for them. I have not read any of it."

"Right, you don't read anything about yourself that isn't praising your hockey skills," Shane teases, fingers tracing light patterns up and down Ilya's arm. Ilya wonders if Shane had been as scared as he was today, if he also thought that maybe they had lost this forever. Ilya wraps his arms around Shane and squeezes, holding him as close as physically possible. He'd fuse them together if he could, maybe crawl under Shane's skin and just stay there.

"And you do not read anything about yourself at all," Ilya yawns. "Very boring. People have a lot of nice things to say about you on the internet. I read one story from a woman who had too many grocery bags and said that you helped her so she could pick up her screaming toddler. And one man said that you stopped for a long time to answer his daughter's questions about the tape you use."

"Well, yeah if I can help with something that simple I'm going to do it," Shane scoffs. "I didn't realise people were talking about it online."

"People love you," Ilya tells him simply. "But not as much as I do."

"Nobody will ever love me that much," Shane smiles, sleep slowly taking over. "I won't let them. Zero opportunities for anyone else."

"Good," Ilya hums. "Just me."

"Just you," Shane affirms and seconds later he's out. After such a fucking emotional rollercoaster of a day Ilya knows it'll be a little while before he's able to fall asleep himself, choosing instead to watch the rise and fall of Shane's chest after he rolls onto his back. His phone buzzes again, three times in quick succession, where Ilya had attempted to abandon it on his bedside table.

Troy: Good news, Luca no longer wants to flee the country.

Troy: I think I've talked him down from deleting half the artworks he has up.

Troy: And I speak for both of us when I say we are truly happy for you and we hope Shane knows how lucky he is to have you.

Ilya: Thank you.

Ilya: We are both lucky and it has taken us a long time to get here.

Troy: Ok I'm gonna say something and I'm sorry if this is weird.

Troy: But I'm proud of you. I know that might not mean much coming from me but I know from experience how scary it can be to go after what you want.

Troy: And how hard it can be to hold onto it when you have to spend most of your time so far apart from each other

Ilya: That means a lot coming from you, Troy.

Ilya: Thank you. Truly.

Ilya: And please tell Luca we are serious about wanting his art. He captured Shane's freckles perfectly.

Troy: He's sleeping now, but I'll let him know tomorrow.

Troy: I'm guessing we won't see you at optional skate in the morning?

Ilya: You will not.

Ilya puts his phone away again and turns to wrap himself around Shane who stirs just long enough to turn and wrap his arms around Ilya, tucking himself under Ilya's chin and sighing contentedly. Ilya feels pretty fucking content himself.