Chapter Text
Ilya’s hand went still on Shane’s lower back, his eyes widening. “Him?” he whisper-asked. “Shane, this is… stalker?”
Shane nodded. “No way it’s anyone else- Ilya, you have to- fuck, hide, he’ll see us together…”
Ilya shook his head no. “Hm, no. I will not leave you with crazy man. Is worse than being caught.”
Shane shook his head frantically. “Ilya, he could hurt you-”
Ilya’s eyes darkened at that. “Hurt me if I stay with you? Does that mean he is trying to hurt you?”
“Yes,” Shane hissed, “now get the fuck out, please Ilya-”
“No.” the Russian said, getting out his phone. “We call police.” the knocking got louder, more insistent. “He is trying to hurt you, no? We call police and they, ah, take care of it.”
Shane shook his head frantically. “No, shit- Ilya, if the fucking police see me hiding in your house? You know how many questions-” he was cut off with a finger shushing his mouth, gently.
“Stop worrying, Shane. You came over because I saw you in street, and am not complete asshole. Ok?”
Shane nodded shakily, but looked nervous (though he didn’t know how much of that was from the idea of being caught or the crazy stalker trying to get to him. All the same, Ilya hated seeing fear on his face. He cupped his jaw, forcing Shane to look at him. “Shane.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” The answer was immediate and confident. It made Ilya’s heart hurt. “Stay there, yes? I will not let him hurt you.” For some reason, those words made Shane loosen a bit. Sure, a crazy stalker was harassing him and threatening all his loved ones, but he had Ilya. And he’d been body checked by Ilya before- he knew how strong he was when he was aggressive. And now all his anger was aimed towards the guy behind the door. A slam hit the door and it burst open, the latch snapping. Damn, he needed to get better security.
“I know you’re in here, Shane Hollander!!” came a wheezy voice, and in stomped a lanky, tall, red-headed man. He had unkempt stubble on his face, waves in his hair (or was it just that tangled?) and dirty clothes, completely black but still having dirt stains. He looked weak, crazed. Shane had never been more fearful for his own safety.
The man’s eyes darted between him and Ilya, trying to connect the dots. When he did, his expression went feral.
“Oh, I see,” he started, a nervous laugh, ‘You won’t indulge a fan in a few messages or a date, but you’ll fuck the enemy, hm?” he moved closer. Ilya held out his arm and stepped between them, keeping Shane tucked behind him. “Back up.”
The stalker shook his head, furious. “No. Now get away from my date.” Ilya shook his head. He wasn’t leaving. Three things happened at once-
The stalker lunged, trying to get past Ilya.
Ilya kept himself firmly in between them and wrestled the man to the ground.
A car screeched outside, and cops came through the door.
Ilya was already trying to knock the guy out, punching him in the face once before taking his hands back to the stalker’s arms to keep him down. “You do not get to hurt him, you fucking-” he was pulled off as a cop handcuffed the now dazed intruder. “Alright, that’s enough, mister. He’s in custody.”
Ilya finally stopped his raging only to look around for Shane, who was standing and staring wide-eyed. He rushed to him, trying to check him over without being obvious- but given the reaction (or rather, lack of reaction) from the cops, they didn't seem to recognize them. Huh. A Canadian who didn't know famous hockey players. That was new. Even so, he knew Shane would get even more upset if he was overly affectionate to him in sight. He just held his hand discretely until the cops left, letting Shane give a statement and hand over his phone for evidence.
“You are okay?”
“Yeah, I just… I'm sorry.”
Ilya shook his head, taking Shane's chin in his hand. “No. No sorry. This was not your fault.”
“I should have made sure my tech-” he was shushed quickly by Ilya.
“No. He shouldn't have bothered you.” it was true, but Shane shook his head. He'd put his friends in danger, Ilya in danger, broken up with him, and seen another dude's nudes- he felt like he was betraying the man next to him. The guilt built up until it spilled over.
“He sent me a picture.”
“Hm?”
“He sent me a- a picture. And I didn't realize what it was so I clicked on it cause I wanted to know who was stalking me and I didn't mean to, I really wouldn't have if I knew-”
It seemed to click for Ilya what the picture was, given Shane's anxious rambling. He took his hand gently and shook his head. “Shane. I don't care. You didn't know.”
“And I never wanted to break up, that was stupid, I just panicked and I thought he would hurt you- I thought he would kill you, he hit Soren with his fucking car-”
“Shane- Shane, Пожалуйста, дорогая. Please. Breathe-”
“I didn't mean to drag you into this, fuck, now he knows where you live and that we're close and I'm so sorry, fuck, he's gonna tell-”
“SHANE!” the hand gripping his chin tightened enough to make him shut up, and Ilya was looking concerned and frustrated. “Shane, where are you?”
“What?”
Ilya took one of Shane's hands and placed it in his own, encouraging him to squeeze as hard as he needed. “Where are you, Hollander? Say where you are right now.”
“At- at your house?”
“Yes. And who is with you?”
“You?”
“Exactly. Me and nobody else, no? Who win last five Stanley cups?”
Shane rattled off team names and their scores for him, finding this part a bit dumb- but it did get him to stop thinking for a moment. His grip on Ilya's arm was probably hard enough to hurt, but Ilya looked so patient and worried that he knew he didn't mind. After a few breaths, Shane let go.
“Sorry for squeezing so hard…”
Ilya shook his head, as Shane expected him to. “Do not worry about it. Are you okay?”
He nodded briefly. “Yeah. I'm okay. Are you? I know I… I mean, this situation…”
“I am fine, Shane. Come with me, we rest, да?”
In bed, Shane finally felt relieved, not paranoid for the first time that day. Ilya was stroking his hair and he was wearing one of Ilya's hoodies. He felt… safe. He knew the crazy stalker was going to jail, probably for a while.
“Next time someone hurt you, you tell me.”
Shane just nodded into Ilya's neck, tired. “Shane. Promise. I will kick his ass.”
“Pr’mise…”
“I am never letting anyone hurt you, no? Especially stupid Metros fan.” Shane laughed at that despite the exhaustion of the day.
“I know, Ilya. I'm sorry. I never want to… cause you pain.”
“You don't. I rather know you are safe
with me. You call, I answer. Any time. Okay?”
“Okay.”