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1. Age 12
“I think it's really unfair to be putting Shane in with the rest of the kids like this, I mean, come on, just look at him.”
The woman spoke like Shane couldn't hear a word she was saying, her tone pitying, and maybe he was being a baby about it, but it also sounded just a little nasty. The woman and her friend were speaking right behind the bench, as Shane's line was waiting to be swapped in, and he couldn't help but think that maybe they wanted him to hear them.
Johnson and Anderson were chatting beside him and focusing on the scrimmage, not paying attention to the adults speaking behind them at all. Shane wishes he could do the same. He could feel the pit in his stomach grow as the woman just. kept. talking.
“He's so small compared to the rest of them, there's just no way he's not going to get injured.”
Shane didn't think he was that small. He was only one inch shorter than the woman's son, Richards, he's pretty sure, according to their last checkup, and he was still taller than both Chen and Brown. He didn't understand what the woman meant at all. He wasn't as big as some of the guys, but he wasn't small enough for his performance to suffer. Did anyone else think he was too small to be effective on the team?
“Oh, but he's the best player on the team, Sandra. I'm sure he'll be fine.”
Shane wasn't sure, he thought the woman's friend was complimenting him, but it didn't sound like she was complimenting him. She sounded just as nasty as Richards’ mom. He wasn't sure whose mom the woman was, and he didn't understand why they were talking about him at all. Frustrated, Shane tapped his stick on the ground as he tried to tune the women out. He should really be focusing on the scrimmage. He couldn’t miss their next switch.
“That Yuna really won't listen to sense, when he gets trampled, she better not blame it on our kids, especially not for any made-up reason.”
His mom hadn't been able to come to observe practice today, and Shane reassured her that a lot of parents didn't come to most practices anyway, so he was going to be fine. Shane wasn't sure he felt the same way he did this morning.
He never heard anyone talking about him like this when she was around. Had they spoken to her about all that stuff about how small he was? About how he shouldn't be on this team? Was his mom going to take him out of camp? Shane’s heart curdled at the thought.
Coach's whistle alerted Shane to the line change, and he immediately stood up from the bench, racing his way to position, trying his best to refocus on the game. He couldn’t let some words distract him from playing the best game he could. He'd show them he didn't need their fucking pity or whatever their problem was.
He made sure to beat Richards during face-off, and then he made sure to score more goals than him during the scrimmage. When he saw Richards’ mom's face go sour, he couldn’t help feeling just a little bit happy.
2. Age 15
“Lookin’ pretty, Holly!”
Shane gritted his teeth at the wolf whistles directed at him coming from his own teammates as he skated to position. The words were shouted at him in an exaggerated, high-pitched voice that grated on Shane's nerves immediately. The laughter from the others around him only set his nerves even more aflame. They were doing drills today, and the coaches at this particular camp were sometimes a bit more lax than he would like because some of his teammates were lounging around the boards, heckling at anything they could see. That included, apparently, the way Shane's hair looked on the very first day of camp.
“Shut up, Richards,” Shane said, trying to keep his tone light. He knew if he reacted too strongly, that would be seen as a sign of weakness, too. He wouldn't hear the end of it then.
He’d been called pretty a few times before this. He knew the guys mostly did it to piss him off. He didn't want to think about all the times he had thought a boy was pretty and couldn't stop staring at them himself, but he was sure the way they were saying it, it wasn't anything like a compliment. They wanted a reaction out of him, anger, tears, and he wouldn't let them get the satisfaction. He breathed in and tried to adjust his position in the ice in a way that made him look like he was focusing solely on the drills.
He had forgotten to get his hair cut before the start of camp, the ends starting to brush down his nape. He was usually better at keeping up with this stuff, but he had been a little distracted by the end of the school semester. His grades had been dropping, and he had been warned by his surprisingly stern father that he wouldn't be allowed to go to camp if they dropped too much. He hadn't been sure he really minded how his hair looked like long either. Lots of players had their hair long. It wasn't that big a deal.
“Aww, is pretty boy Holly sensitive about his pretty new hair?”
The burst of laughter that line produced from the rest of his teammates, both on and off the ice, made Shane want to curl into himself in embarrassment. Maybe Shane hadn't quite gotten the annoyance out of his voice, hadn't been able to tone down the insecurity he felt about his build, how short he still was compared to some of the rest of the guys, how his muscles hadn't grown in as much, no matter how much he trained. He made himself stand still and unmoved, looking ahead as he waited for the trainer to start practice. The man was himself chuckling at the ridiculous joke, of course.
“Alright, boys, get yourselves together. You can start making those jokes when you can beat Hollander in scores, let's go!”
The rest of the guys start groaning theatrically, a couple of guys even roughly patting Shane on the back as they skate past him, like it was all just some big fun joke everyone was a part of.
He made sure to show all of them up again on all of the skating and scoring drills. He was gonna shave off his whole head the second he got home.
3. Age 18
“What about you, cap? You been getting any more tail since you got in?”
Shane looked up blearily at Mitchell, usually the team’s second line right winger, who decided to bring him into whatever conversation he and a group of their teammates were having over their post-game meal. Shane had been thinking back on the game they just had against Finland. It had been a difficult game, but Canada managed to win 5-3. Shane had managed to get in two goals this game, and that had been a relief coming from a three-game goal drought. He had started to hear some grumblings from his teammates, as if any of them could talk about him not scoring.
He missed Mitchell’s question. God, he was tired. “Sorry, what was that?”
Tired laughter came from the rest of the table, and Shane noticed they were all particularly focused on the conversation. Like gossip was the most important part of being here.
“Completely wiped, huh, cap? Now I know girls complain about your stamina.”
The chirp was completely unnecessary and totally hypocritical, considering the state of Mitchell's conditioning, but Shane ignored that in favor of blearily staring at Mitchell long enough that he broke down and actually asked his question again.
“Was asking if you've had more girls ask you out after getting into Worlds.”
Shane looked at them blankly once more before pretending to go back to his meal, stabbing some pieces of the salad prepared by the cooks. He didn’t really want to answer, but he knew they’d just keep bothering him if he didn’t.
“I’m not sure, maybe a couple more have tried to come up to me? I have a girlfriend, so...”
His tone was dismissive, already going back to thinking about what he could do better in their next game. He could not fumble another pass as badly as he did this afternoon. It was embarrassing, and he could hear his mother's chirps already. Honestly, he might prefer the guys bothering him over that than whatever it is they were doing right now.
“Not asking how many girls you've shoved your dick into Hollander, I’m asking how many of ‘em have asked you out.”
Shane could hear the eyeroll in Mitchell’s voice, and he was tempted to return it. He didn’t need Mitchell’s bullshit right now. He was tired and really didn’t want to hear about any of this. He needed to redirect.
“I don’t really pay attention to that stuff. Maybe if you thought more about the ice, Mitchy, your scoring average would be higher, you’d probably get more “tail” if you were better too.”
Nervous laughter scattered around the table, Mitchy himself being the loudest, though Shane noticed the bitter twist to the smirk plastered on his face. The conversation moved on, and Shane was left to his own thoughts once more.
“Bet no girl wants his little dick anyway.”
Shane could hear Mitchell mutter to Williams beside him, but he elected to ignore the douchebag and continue eating his meal. He didn't want to spend the time or effort to confront them.
When Canada netted their next win, with a goal and an assist from Shane himself and nothing from Mitchy, Shane made sure he wasn’t smiling smugly at him as they were all celebrating.
4. Age 19
“Man, she wouldn't even get on it at first, kept whining about how big it was.”
“You're pulling that shit out of your ass, man, there's no fucking way.”
“I'm serious, you should've seen her face when she saw it. Her eyes practically rolled to the back of her head.”
“You always talk about no girl wanting to be on your dick, Lainey. Is it because it's too big or because you can't use it good?”
“Oh, you would talk about needing to use your dick good, Willy, a girl could swallow you in one mouthful.”
“Better than choking a whore out every time she has to go down on you, dickhead.”
The chirps traveling around the locker room disturbed Shane to a degree he didn't know possible anymore after years going through multiple locker rooms. He's been playing for the Metros for about a month or two now, and while they tossed around some locker room talk occasionally, Shane hadn't heard them having this type of conversation before. Shane usually tried his best to focus on the game and didn't always participate in as many team-building activities as he probably should, but if this is what's usually discussed, he's not sure he'd like to.
Shane tried his best to avoid where the majority of the conversation was happening, mostly by the vets, though Laine, the person who had started the conversation, was a newer recruit who had been drafted a little before Shane was.
“What about you, Hollander? Ever had a girl say they need a stretch before they climb on you?”
Shane freezes momentarily at suddenly being dragged into the conversation. Mitty, who stood only a little ways from him, hadn't really looked like he had been paying attention, so it was a surprise when he suddenly pipes up and directs the question at him. Shane was about to respond with the calmest, “none of your business,” he could, when Lainey responded for him.
“Man, Hollander wouldn't know anything about that!”
Immediate laughter broke out from the rest of the room as the joke landed, some more nervous than others, but all of them laughing all the same. Even Hayden beside him was chuckling quietly, even though he looked more concerned than he was amused.
Shane wanted to freeze again, at being called out specifically, at being singled out once more, out of a whole bunch of players, especially for something like that. Shane's face wanted to burn with humiliation and anger at being put on the spot like that, but he knew he couldn't give them that, couldn't show them that they'd gotten to him.
“Maybe if you could get more girls to sit on it, Lainey, you'll get that stick outta your ass, and coach will finally give you more ice time.”
The crowd laughed even harder at that, a couple of people giving loud OHHs at Laine's expense, the pack of hungry lions moving on to maul into different prey, uncaring for whatever destruction they leave in their wake. Shane breathes a sigh of relief. His chirps don't always work to get people off his back. He's glad this is one of the times it did.
Shane had moved to continue stripping off his armor, trying his best to once more ignore the clamoring voices at the centre of the weird discussion that he almost jumped when Mitty slid up next to him, grinning. Mitty was a vet who had played for Montreal for what had to be years now. Shane had watched him play since he was 12 and couldn't believe he’d finally get to play with the man after all this time. He knew he couldn't just brush him off.
“You're funny, rook, you should joke around with us old timers more often.”
Mitty hadn't actually been part of the initial discussion and only started participating to, for some reason, call Shane out specifically. Shane really wasn't sure what that was about. Shane, in his rush to just finish stripping so he can get out, had unthinkingly muttered, “Wish they'd all just focus on training instead of crap like that.”
“It's all jokes, Hollander, they're having fun. You're not taking it personally, are you?” Mitty's tone was light, but Shane could feel the underlying warning in his words. Don't make a scene, don't bring down the mood, don't call them out. Nobody wants to work with a killjoy. Just take the joke.
Shane thought things would be different, now that he's made his way to the big leagues. He's working with adults now, people who should know better, the voice inside his head that sounded too much like his mother whispered. But he supposed that had been too much to ask for.
“No, of course not, don't worry about it.”
“That's a good man, Hollander, knew you weren't one of those pussies.”
Mitty's arm went around his neck to give him, what Shane assumes is supposed to be, a reassuring head ruffle, but the grip only felt like a rope, strangling him in its hold, making him choke down his words.
He should just focus on the next game. He needs to get his scores up to make sure he reached 50 goals before Rozanov does.
5. Age 25
“Man, you know I've got no problem with this stuff, but all this Pride Night shit's just a little too much sometimes, isn't it?”
Shane could hear Comeau mutter to Drapeau beside him as they were all getting ready. Their pride night game this year was against the Scouts, and Shane knew some of the members had been grumbling about it for days now. Shane had never understood what their problem was. He couldn’t really use the rainbow tape because it would fuck with his play, but he liked the jerseys, the designers did really well this year, he thought.
“Oh, for sure, man, love and all that, but why does the board have to drag us into all this right?”
“Exactly, now if we don't use the rainbow tape or the damn jerseys we're getting called phobic by some fuckin’ blue-haired freak.”
Their voices were getting louder as the conversation went on. Shane felt himself growing tenser as the conversation started attracting more attention. He could feel Hayden catching on from his position beside him and could feel him fidgeting uncomfortably at the topic. They hadn't really ever talked about this stuff with each other before. Hayden had always been decently open about gay people before, but…
“What about you, Cap? Can't imagine you're too happy about it.”
Shane blinks at being dragged into the conversation. Maybe he hadn't looked sufficiently focused on the game. Now he had to deal with Comeau trying to be funny. He could feel his skin prickle as he noticed a couple of other guys now tuning in on the conversation, taking glances at him, waiting for his answer.
“You got questions about the game, Comeau?”
He honestly hoped they'd be too embarrassed to continue their line of questioning, but Comeau persisted, probably emboldened by the locker room's sudden interest.
“Nah, cap, the pride night stuff, your mom's probably not too happy with it, right?”
Comeau did take it down a little, directly around the wrong path by involving Yuna Hollander in the discussion.
“I think Pride Night is a good way for us to show that hockey is for everyone and to show support for the community. We're always happy to show appreciation for the fans and all the different people who have supported us.”
For some reason, laughter was the response the room had to his statement. Shane was worried he had said something weird before Comeau pipes up once more, a lazy grin on his face after laughing his ass off, slapping his knee several times.
“Man, that was the most PR response I've ever heard in my life, chill out, cap, no one here's hounding you for a soundbite.”
Shane could feel himself tensing further, his teeth grinding a little behind the blank face he tries to school his face into anytime the topic is brought up. He wanted to wipe that ugly smirk off of Comeau's face, the defenseman still staring at Shane as if waiting for another response to his question.
The sound of Coach Thierault alerting them to the start of the game and barking at them for not being ready saved Shane from having to respond, and everyone immediately hustled to complete their pre-game prep. Shane was distracted for the rest of the Pride Night game. Shane never knew the correct thing to say.
He made sure to score the winning goal that game. Comeau's celebratory backslaps at the end of the game felt like brands on his skin.
6. Age 27
“You're gay.”
Shane swallowed, saliva thick in his throat at the stiffness in his coach's voice, fire starting to pool in his gut, an ugly, desperate feeling that kept spreading as Theriault kept looking at him darkly.
“Yes, sir.”
Shane had come out to the team only minutes before, coming out with it in the middle of the locker room and telling them all straight out.
The room had fallen so silent you could hear a pin drop, and as the silence stretched, Shane had been prepared to be kicked out of the room, but a couple of them had snapped out of it. J.J., for example, had grinned and slapped his shoulders with both his hands, enthusiastically hollering about finally understanding why he never wanted to date any girl he had been set up with. Hayden, of course, already knew about his secret, which had started a quiet debate between the two about being his best friend that made Shane blush a little bit, but he was ultimately grateful for JJ's warm reception. A couple of his other teammates had grinned at him and given him whatever handshakes and backslaps they felt were appropriate, and he really appreciated them, even if some of them had maybe seemed a bit more reluctant to touch him than before.
Unfortunately, that hadn't been the reaction for all of the team. In fact, about a quarter of his teammates had remained quiet and stone-faced, shifting in their place and looking away from him. Two of them had left the room, and a minute or two later, Theriault had stormed into the room, face stony and uncomfortably menacing. Shane had been told to meet Theriault in his office, and there they were right now.
Shane was sure that, what should've happened was that he should've told Theriault first before even thinking about coming out to his team. Something had prevented him from doing so, though, the way Theriault had always scornfully treated the concept of pride nights, every single time the man spoke about other teams, calling them pussies or cocksucking pansies.
He honestly hadn't been sure Theriault wouldn't have told him to keep his mouth about his sexuality. Had he chosen to warn him before telling his teammates, he had been afraid that he would be told to stay in the closet to protect the peace with his teammates.
It felt like the right move at the time, but now, having seen the faces some of his teammates had made, Shane wasn't sure it had been worth no longer lying. The thought made his stomach clench in disgust. He was doing this for him and Ilya, for the possibility of both coming out about how much they loved each other. He hadn't been sure how the Voyageurs would've reacted to his sexuality, but he knew exactly how they would've reacted if he had come out about his relationship with Ilya. This was him trying to soften the blow. The charity, Ilya's move to Ottawa. All of that had been for the chance that someday, he and Ilya could be together openly and without repercussions, just like every other couple in the world.
“You planning on doing anything about it?”
Theriault’s voice was stern, threatening, almost. Shane immediately straightened, hearing the voice that had been training him for most of his adult life sound so frigid, almost furious, he couldn’t help but sweat.
“No coach, I just wanted to tell everyone. For transparency.”
Silence stretched out between them. Theriault looked at him like Shane was no better than a stain in his perfectly shined boots, his stare boring into him as if Theriault would be able to see inside his head and take out every secret he ever had out before it could ruin anything else.
“Then you don’t bring that shit to the ice, you do that, and we won’t have any problems.”
Shane wanted to scream. Thierault had no right to tell him about anything to do with his sexuality. Shane should be able to do with his partner what every other person in the league could and have done. Shane should be allowed to live his life and love his boyfriend in peace.
But he couldn’t do that. He wasn't brave enough to risk losing this.
“If you ever think about doing something as stupid as Hunter-”
“I'm not thinking of it, coach.”
Shane had tried his best to shut out any and all emotions from his face, choking back the twisting rage begging to climb out of his throat. If he had to look at Theriault’s face for another minute, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from screaming. Instead, he interrupts his coach’s next words, turning tail and rushing out of the room, ignoring the man’s demands for him to return.
Shane needed to focus on the game. He couldn’t let this change how he’s been playing, especially not right now.
Shane scored a hat trick that same game. He made himself ignore the looks his coach and several of his teammates were giving him. He was safe. If he just had this, he would be safe.
+1 Age 30
“Hollzy! We had a question we wanted to ask you!”
Young's voice approaching him makes Shane look up from his own discussion with Hayes and Ilya about the defense line. Shane smiled at the rookie. He and Holmberg were some of the youngest members of the Centaurs alongside Haas, and they've been the most excited about his move to Ottawa. Harris told him the internet had been loving the interactions between them that had been posted online, and they were raving about how the rookies have basically been following him like ducklings. It was a little embarrassing, but it was nice to hear that he's being thought of highly.
He's been trying his best to open up to his new teammates since the move, and he feels like he’s been doing pretty well so far. It helps that Ottawa, both his teammates and the fans, have been incredibly welcoming. Ilya had stuck by his side since the very beginning. He's a brilliant captain, and Shane appreciated just being able to be with his husband without comment. Not ones he was aware of anyway, apparently, people had many opinions about their relationship online, but Shane kept himself well enough away.
Shane didn't think he could be any happier than he was right now. He's been adjusting surprisingly well with the new team, too. Once the season starts, they might have another chance to bring Ottawa to the playoffs, of course, that's if they play the same way they've been playing at practice.
“Holmberg wanted to get his new girl something, y'know, just a gift for her birthday.”
Shane blinked in surprise. That hadn't been what he was expecting at all. The rookies usually asked him stuff about hockey.
“Alright?” Shane wasn't sure why he was being asked, maybe because Shane had dated Rose, who was a really popular actress. But that had been years ago now. Because he's been in a years-long relationship with his partner? That had been a fun conversation to have with the team. Ilya had been teasing them with the information for weeks before Shane just told them outright. He almost felt bad when he saw the slack-jawed expressions of every single member of the team that day, but it was kind of funny.
“Why are you asking Hollander about this Holmberg? He is the most boring man alive. He will tell you to buy your girlfriend boring socks, and she will break up with you.”
Shane elbows Ilya on his side lightly, giving a little smirk at the small oof Ilya produced at the move and dodging the man's attempt at retaliation. He knew Ilya was joking. The man had loved the socks he gave him for his birthday the once, and he wore them all the time.
Holmberg shuffled nervously from his place behind Young, his face tugged into a nervous frown. He looked... uncertain, almost, like he wasn't sure if he was going to be doing something wrong.
“Yeah, I wanted to ask what you think I should get her, she's obsessed with hockey too, and she's kind of a huge fan and stuff.”
The words came out a bit rushed, like Holmberg was hesitating before throwing the questions out of his mouth, but that cleared some things up for Shane, he supposed. People tell him all the time that they have never met another person as obsessed with hockey as he is.
“I'm not really sure what's popular for you younger guys. Have you thought about giving her an autobiography from an older player? Maybe that's a bit too boring a gift for your girlfriend, though. Shit, I don’t think I ever gave Rose gifts when we were together. I don’t think I know what gifts you would give your girlfriends.”
“You don't know how to give gifts, full stop, solnyshko. You gave your mother airpods for her birthday. And stop acting like you are ancient, you sound like Hunter.”
“It was practical! She uses them for calls all the time. She hated using the wired stuff. And you just don’t want to admit you’re getting older, Ilya.”
During their squabble, Young made faces at what they were saying. He looked back and forth between them, his face looking a little confused before speaking up once more.
“I mean, you are basically the girl, though, right?”
The words came out of Young's mouth so casually and eagerly that Shane almost didn't register it. The words were so innocuous that for a moment, Shane didn't even register them.
Shane freezes the second they do, memories filled with years of pitying, patronizing, resentful, and outright hateful words hitting him like a ton of bricks.
He thought he would finally be safe here, thought that he would never again have to navigate the minefields of petty digs at his appearance, sexual prowess, or mannerisms. He thought he could finally relax with these guys there to have his back.
He had put his hopes up too high once again.
He was about to reply, trying his best to lock his expression down, mouth set in a flat line. He can't show them weakness, can't show them that he's annoyed or bothered or upset at what they said. Can't let them take advantage of his lapse in judgement. His answer, had it come out of his mouth then, would probably have been a little more cutting than necessary when Hayes beside him groaned in exasperation.
“Young, buddy, no.”
Hayes had his palm up against his forehead, shaking his head. He looked at them like an exasperated mother seeing his kids making a stupid mistake, and Shane couldn't help but feel a little grateful that the man had cut in.
“That's not how that works. Any of that, man, did you two listen to those talks they had us listen to at all?”
Holmberg looked like he was about to say something, the furrow between his brows growing and his teeth nervously biting down on his lips.
“Holmberg, shut your mouth, right now.”
Ilya's stern voice got Holmberg to snap his mouth shut immediately, almost hard enough to get Shane a little worried, though the feeling got drowned out by the panic and anger he was currently feeling. The kid nervously looked at the Russian man, whose face wasn't quite angry, but it certainly hadn't looked very happy.
“No one here is the girl or the boy, because we are both men. Do either of us look like women to you? No, and we are not now girls just because we get married to another man.”
Young had looked surprised at Ilya’s words, but his confused look didn't clear up even as Ilya went on.
“I mean, Twitter, they call Hollzy our mom and stuff, so I thought…”
Ilya groans in patented parental disappointment despite the next words that come out of his mouth.
“Young, you idiot, they are jokes, I am not your actual father either, Christ.”
Young blushes furiously at Ilya’s words but continues to look confused.
“I'm not saying you're my actual parents, but I thought like Shane was the girl, cuz he like uh, helps us with training, I mean, you do that to,o but it's not, umm…”
This was all spiraling to be something completely different than what Shane thought was happening. He could feel himself calm down a little. Young continued to look flustered as he kept trying to explain himself, and Holmberg looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
“Young, you think he is a girl because you think I fuck him, you think I am big Russian man who fucks small Asian twink?”
The question was hilarious because Shane was actually slightly taller than Ilya, and at this stage of their lives, he was arguably more muscular too. It was bizarre to hear the words said out loud. The assumptions people make about him. Both the rookies freeze at once as the implications of what they were saying finally hit them. They looked absolutely mortified.
“Shit, we're so sorry, we weren't thinking- I mean I wasn't thinking about that, I don't think, I mean maybe-”
“Me too, I mean I kinda knew something was weird, but I didn't- I didn't think really get it and I didn't want to say anything because-”
Both Young and Holmberg started talking almost at the same time. Their eyes widened in horror the second Ilya told them what the problem was with what they were saying. They looked deflated, looking at both Ilya and Shane frantically apologizing, their eyes occasionally flicking away in embarrassment. The effect was actually pretty hilarious. Here were these two giant hockey players, 21 and 22 years old respectively, looking like they were children being reprimanded by their kindergarten teachers.
Shane snapped out of his initial panic, realizing now that he had probably jumped to being much too defensive. He could feel himself breathe better as the two continued to try to apologize for their mistake. He's glad both Hayes and Ilya had been there to buffer his reaction. The kids had said something stupid, but Shane didn't think they were trying to insult him. He could deal with that.
“Ilya's right, I'm not a girl, neither of us are, and that's not a great way of seeing our relationship.”
Shane shakes his head, looking at the two young adults who had fallen silent once Shane spoke up. He was feeling a little calmer, but he knew he needed to say something about this. They weren't the people in his past who refused to see him for who he truly was. They were his friends who just needed a little help taking off the blinds.
“I get that maybe you have some thoughts about how this works for us, and maybe you can't really understand it, but I'd appreciate it if you try your best not to make any assumptions.”
Shane patted the two on their shoulders and smiled at their still drawn faces. They were good kids, and he really wishes they could all just move on from this soon.
Before things could get any more awkward than they already were, Ilya pipes up with words arguably more horrifying to Shane than anything Young and Holmberg themselves said.
“And Young, if you would like to call me daddy, I am afraid I would need to decline, I have a beautiful husband who does not like to share.”
The look of horror on Young's face and the ensuing argument solidly moved them away from the initial topic. His husband always knew exactly what Shane needed in any given situation, and it made the warmth in Shane’s chest settle once more after the sudden shake Young and Holmberg accidentally gave him.
They all eventually broke off, their breaks over and needing to return to practice. Ilya follows Shane and stops him with a concerned expression on his face.
“Are you alright, lyubimyy?”
Shane smiled at the concern his husband always showed him. If nothing else, he knew Ilya would always be there for him. He leaned in to give his husband a small kiss and pats him on his shoulder, moving a little to the side of the ice to make sure they weren't in anyone's way.
“I'm fine, Ilya, I get that they didn't mean any harm.”
“They should not have said it at all. I needed to scold two children like I am their father.”
Ilya's grumbling made Shane laugh. He was glad he could still do so after such a tense situation.
“Wish I could've told them myself, God, I think I was ready to bite their heads off. I'm happy you and Hazy were there. I think I would've just made things worse.”
“They said something stupid. Nothing you would've said would be worse than the words already coming out of their mouth.”
Shane smiled once again, leaning in once more to give Ilya a slightly longer kiss, wiping away the frown stuck on Ilya's face. He proceeded to duck the second Ilya tried to deepen it, laughing as Ilya stumbled and skated away to actually go back to his own practice.
There were some things that they both couldn't change, the league still wasn't great about their relationship, and the things that came out of other players’ mouths during games would make Young and Holmberg's words sound like the first chirps a 4-year-old just getting their ice legs would say. People still wildly speculated on their relationship, and nothing either Shane or Ilya did would change that.
But he was glad to have people who were willing to learn, people who would stand by his side through it all.