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Ilya is loud. Loud in everything. Loud when he amps up the locker room, loud when he scores a goal, loud when he fights, loud, loud, loud. Ilya has never done anything quietly, not since he was 12 years old.
Loving Shane was no exception. He was loud in it. Calling out to him, “Husband! Did you see my goal? Husband! I deserve a kiss for not going to the sin bin! Husband! Husband! Husband!” If Ilya did anything, everyone knew Shane would know as soon as it was done. Ilya loved to call to him, to kiss him loudly and publicly, loved to grab his hand when they left the locker room. Loved to rustle his hair when he was giving press just to get Shane to smile and chuckle. He would get out of the shower and would sing about how hard it was to be apart for the 20 minutes it took to shower.
On the ice it’s obvious he is playing for Shane as much as he is for the Centaurs. He gets a point and sends a clunky heart through his gloves to Shane. He gets a hat trick and he skates by, giving kissy faces. Any assist with Shane would result in a head kiss. Visible. Present.
And Shane tolerated it. He would hold Ilya’s hand, would smile at Ilya’s antics, would grimace before pushing Ilya off him and getting back into the game.
Most of the team thinks it odd. Ilya is loud with his love, with his affection, there’s no doubts in anyone’s mind that Ilya loves Shane. But Shane... Shane is so... robotic. And distant. When Ilya tries to kiss on Shane in the locker room, he pushes him away, tells him to knock it off. And they don’t shower together, rarely room together. It’s a running joke at this point that Shane is the most put-upon husband ever while Ilya is just unaware that his husband isn’t interested.
Maybe Shane just doesn’t love Ilya as much as Ilya loves Shane.
1)
It’s an early day as always. Practice, designed to get the team up to snuff for the Cup. And Ilya, the ever-torturous captain, is glowing. Beaming. Effervescent. He’s lighting up the room as he walks in, the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face.
Bood, who is not here for it, based on the practice yesterday, asks. “What gives Cap? What’s with the face?”
And Ilya shines at Bood, ignoring the flinching and frustrated frown directed at him. “What do you mean, dear Assistant Cap?”
Hazy is also not feeling it and won’t let this get ignored. “You. Your face. You look like you’ve been enlightened with major spoilers. Or got told a secret cheat code for beating the other teams. Or like you got a blowjob before coming here.” A couple laughs go around the room. They hate that they’re invested in this drama their captain has created.
“Ah! My face.” And Ilya sighs dreamily as he reaches for the necklace perpetually around his neck. “Is this. My husband bought it for me.”
The ring is huge. Big hunk of gold that could be used as a down payment on a multi million dollar house. But on the ring, dead center, is two hockey sticks with 24 and 81 interlocked, around the side is 2008 to forever, and around that ‘Separated no more.’ The ring itself is ridiculous but you add the clearly sentimental stuff and it’s clear this was a deeply personal ring.
“Wow Ilya, that thing doesn’t hurt your neck?”
And Ilya grins bigger. “Not even. Will probably hurt someone if swing it into their face.” He laughs, happy and carefree. “Is good gift. Shane felt like I needed another.”
Bood frowns. Did... Like he needed another? What? “It’s not your anniversary?”
“Or your birthday?”
“Or did you guys get in a fight?”
Ilya shakes his head. “Nyet. Just because. He thought of me. Thought I would like it.” He smiles again, rotating the ring in his fingers. He smiles and shrugs his shoulders looking down at it before turning to get dressed.
Bood continued to frown as he looked at Ilya’s back. Huh. Who knew Shane was the kind of guy who bought jewelry just because.
2)
Ilya goes down hard. It’s a clean hit and luckily there’s no damage to his head. But he’s out of the game. Shane had gone over and talked it over with the medic, keeping his cool as he was told of his husband’s injuries. He pats Ilya’s shoulders and whispers something to him as he skates off the ice. Troy watches as Shane looks through the Toronto players, nodding as he sees the one who took Ilya out. Fuck. Troy could not be defending Shane all night if he decided to try and fight. No one even knew if Shane could fight.
But... Shane doesn’t get in a fight. Shane... Shane does what Shane does best. He plays hockey.
Troy knew, logically, that Shane was very good at hockey. He knew that he was lucky to be on the same team as Ilya and Shane. But now... Watching as Shane stole the puck, again, for the 4th time, from the defender and sunk it into the net from the center line, Troy realized he really didn’t know how good Shane was.
They were up by 7. In the second half. And Shane would not get off the ice.
The other team realized Shane was their real opponent and tried to keep him blocked or keep the puck from him for the last third, but Shane didn’t care. He would get pushed into the boards and would keep the puck. He would slingshot it to Luca just to get away from his shadow to then get the puck back sink it. He was behind the net and slipped it in, barely setting off the alarm for another fucking goal.
Troy wanted to sit. He looked over at Hazy, in his goalie net who hadn’t seen the puck in almost the entire third quarter. Because Shane was killing Toronto.
The final buzzer rang and the Centaurs didn’t celebrate. The just watched as Shane took off his gloves, put his stick down and skated off the ice. No big fanfare, no screams and shouts. Even the fans, the die-hards, were quiet. They won 9 to 2. And that was all Shane Hollander. The fucking hockey robot.
How did one continue playing hockey when Shane Hollander existed? When he could play like that?
Almost in a daze, Troy remembers cheering and clapping, going to shake the hands of the team that was horribly humiliated before going to the locker room. Shane was nowhere to be found but Ilya was there, smiling big and happy as he held a bag of ice to his knee. Ilya, who had been removed because of a bad hit. Clean, but bad. Who should have been as shell shocked as the rest of them. He was happy as a fucking clam as the team walked in.
“Did you see that?” Troy sank onto the bench with an angry frown. See it? He fucking lived it. He hadn’t been necessary on that ice the entire time because Shane fucking Hollander had come and trounced everyone. “Did you see my husband win that game for me?” Ilya sighed dreamily, moving his hands, including the ice pack, over his heart. “How wonderful.”
“Speaking of your husband, where is that menace?”
The door opened and in hobbled Shane, clearly in pain, clearly tired, and clearly done. Yeah, winning a game by yourself would do that to you. Ilya perked up immediately. “Shane!”
Shane looked up tiredly waving briefly with a wince as he hobbled over to his seat. He sank down and appeared to deflate with a whimper.
“Shane! That was amazing!” Ilya leaned on Shane’s shoulder, ignoring his groan of pain. His smile softened as he kept looking at Shane’s tired face. “Was that all for me?”
Shane looked at him, tiredness clear through his face, his body, his fucking hair. Shane was beat. And Troy wanted to be mad at the guy, could have saved them some goals but... When Shane smiled softly and nodded just as softly, Troy couldn’t be mad anymore. Shane had worked that hard to win the game for Ilya. He destroyed Toronto for hurting his man. And that was sweet. In a weird...fucked up way.
3)
Hockey players lose teeth. It was part of the game. Everyone had lost one sometime, except probably, the golden boy of hockey. Shane had probably never lost a tooth. Dykstra had lost 3 teeth. And he had replaced them with implants until one of those got punched out in a fight. Now, he had an appliance that looked like a really creepy retainer with 3 fake teeth that he had to take on and off each game and practice. Those things were expensive.
But it’s a way of life. You don’t become a hockey player because you want to have good dental and know all the dentists in the area who take last-minute appointments.
And Ilya Rozanav has just lost a tooth. An incisor. But he’s grinning, showing the hole, laughing stupidly even with blood still present on his lip, coating his bottom teeth. He doesn’t care. He feels good. They won, again, and Ilya had a great fight. One for the books. Yeah, he got a penalty, but that meant nothing for the rush and yells of the fans when they realized Ilya was squaring up.
But one unknown had just walked through the door. Dykstra, Bood, and a few others turned to look as Shane returned from doing press. He had been so tired after his last game he had been to see PT and rehab before showering so slowly that the press had tapped someone else. But this week, there were no reasons Shane couldn’t explain what happened during the last game. Why Shane murdered an entire team.
Ilya smiled, showing his gap to his husband. “Look kotenok! I have a hole!” And he pushed his tongue through the hole. Shane stopped walking in, instead staring at Ilya’s mouth. Uh-oh. Here was the unknown. How would Shane, the golden boy of hockey, react to such a disgraceful, violent visual?
Apparently by climbing into Ilya’s lap and kissing the fuck out of him.
Dykstra could only chuckle as Ilya was kissed within an inch of his life. Don’t get him wrong, Ilya did not need saving. Did not need any help. He was very much where he wanted to be. But man. Shane was kissing him like he had a diamond hidden in there and his tongue was going to find it.
Shane finally pulled away, his mouth a little reddened by Ilya’s blood still in his mouth. But Shane clearly did not care. He licked his lip before licking at Ilya’s bottom lip. Ilya grinned, clearly enjoying Shane’s attentions. “Do you like?”
Shane rolled his eyes and climbed out of Ilya’s lap gracefully. “My mom already scheduled the dentist appointment.” Ilya groaned in frustration, even though the smile never left his face. “Gotta keep that pretty smile, pretty.”
Ilya just nodded. “Okey.” He grabbed Shane’s hand and squeezed before he continued undressing.
Huh. How cute. Dykstra knew for sure his wife hadn’t been that pleased about his teeth. She had yelled at him and told him he needed to get it fixed. But that... How cute.
4)
The people who had been there before... they know. They get nervous at flying now. Some will bless themselves. Some have deeply superstitious beliefs they have to do for a safe flight. But most, like Ilya, are restless. Ilya is sitting by Shane, watching the window but his leg is going, he keeps looking around, he keeps biting at his lip, his cheek, his cuticles. Nervous energy throughout.
Hazy has his own nervous energy but he spends it productively. He called his wife and spoke with her lovingly. He told her how he felt about her, told her how much he wanted to be home, with her, in bed. Listened when she told him he was going to have a safe flight. Then downloaded some of the calming videos he only needed when flying. Hazy was ready.
And everything was going well until they were all on the flight. Hazy realized he had left his headphones on the charger, forgetting to grab them on his way out. Now, it was too late for him to get off the plane. Ilya was sat in front of him, playing with the sunshade on the other side of Shane. Shane was unbothered, instead, clearly looking for something on his tablet. And Ilya is a wreck. Take-off is hard for most of them because the plane is shaking, feels like it will fall out of the sky, and they’re just stuck. In limbo.
Shane doesn’t even seem to care or process that Ilya is so nervous, he’s going to eat his own finger. How unobservant. Hazy would feel bad for Ilya, if he wasn’t too busy feeling bad for himself. And then Hazy watches as Shane pulls air pods out and begins fitting them into Ilya’s ears. Ilya, due to the feeling, turns and lets it happen, lets Shane blanket him in whatever noise he has.
Hazy must not be subtle in his staring because Shane peeks through the seats at him and frowns. “You ok?”
Hazy nods. He’s not but he can’t say that. “Forgot my headphones. I’m just going to listen to the dulcet tones of the plane falling. I’ll be fine.”
And Shane has a pitying look before he reaches down and grabs another set of air pods out. “I’ll disconnect it from the tablet, and you can hook it up to yours.” Shane smiles so sweetly and kindly that Hazy feels like a dick for thinking ill of him.
Hazy doesn’t even take a moment before he’s fitting them in and working on getting them connected to his tablet so he can get the calming video on. But then he hears what Shane and Ilya are watching. It’s a movie about moss. A documentary probably. But the voice is calm, soothing, more calming than any of the videos Hazy downloaded. And Shane is just about to click him out, his finger hovering over the disconnect button. Hazy reaches through and shakes his head, hoping Shane understands. Which he does because he smiles again and gets out of the little drop down before going back to the video. He holds it on the armrest between Ilya and Shane so Hazy can see too. He holds it with his right hand while his left takes Ilya’s hand and squeezes.
Hazy can feel the plane start lifting, starting to take off and he holds tight to the armrest. He sees Ilya squeeze Shane’s hand so tight, so forcefully, his fingertips are going white as they press white bruises into Shane’s hand. But Shane never lets go, never says anything. Just keeps holding him.
The plane finally evens out and Hazy goes back to tuning into the moss documentary. It’s boring and puts him to sleep way too fucking fast. He wakes up about an hour into the flight, sore, stiff, the movie still playing. But Ilya is no longer holding Shane’s hand, and the tablet is no longer visible. Hazy can see Shane and Ilya watching a truly terrible action film on Ilya’s phone, each sharing one headphone. Hazy can’t hear them but Shane is whispering something in Ilya’s ear that has him smiling.
The plane hits a rough patch of air and the plane shakes, nowhere near as terrifyingly as when they almost died, but definitely more than anyone wants. Hazy wants to shut his eyes but he promised his wife he would face death with open eyes, so he won’t. He just grips the seat arms.
Because his eyes are open, Hazy gets a good view of Shane Hollander grabbing Ilya’s face and looking directly into his eyes. Ilya looks scared, as he knows he does, trauma being shared and all. But Shane is shaking his head. The moss video ends but before the next video starts, Hazy pulls one of the headphones out and hears Shane say, “We can’t die. We have to finish this terrible movie. And Rose was in this awful thing. I have to show you so we can mock her the next time she is over.”
And Ilya looks scared and shaken but he doesn’t look away. His mouth says, without moving ‘What if we don’t make it to then? What if we die right here? What if, what if, what if...’
And Shane shakes his head. “We will finish this terrible movie. And then you’re going to put on that awful Fast and the Furious movie, the one in space. If there can be in cars in space, we’ll land just fine.” And Hazy smiles along with Ilya because he said it with so much conviction. As if the movie was fact and as such, they would be fine.
The turbulence had stopped a while ago, really just an extra bump through some wavy air. But you would never know if with this traumatized team. Some people still have their eyes closed, some are still finishing prayers, a few are texting truly meaningful messages that do not align with this level of flight. But Hazy, Ilya, and Shane, they are fine. Hazy feels fine because Shane feels fine. They’re going to be ok.
5)
Luca doesn’t think Shane is non-feeling. He just thinks Shane shows his care differently.
Like how he made sure Luca could do certain passes on the ice! Luca was struggling but Shane didn’t stop, didn’t pull away, just guided him so gently through the moves until Luca could do them in his sleep. And how he would ask Troy about Harris, even though Shane would see Harris almost every afternoon. And Shane asked Bood about Cassie and the new baby and told the married guys about cute little shops or restaurants they should take their wives to. It was in little ways that weren’t loud but were soft and gentle.
When Luca walks into the Hollander-Rozanav home, he sees that soft and gentle love so loudly.
The house is gorgeous. Just a truly massive home with so many windows and so much light. It’s clean and organized, even with the coats all piled, toy bags, and backpacks strewn about the foyer, entry way. But none of that matters when Luca sees the happy smiling faces of his captain and personal mentor, right there on the front wall. They’re on the water somewhere, probably fighting over something, but they’re so happy that Luca can’t help but feel happy.
He leaves the foyer and walks into the living room, smile still present as he sees evidence of Shane and Ilya through the years. Pictures from random games where they are looking at each other, their CCM ad bloopers, the both of them laughing then serious, something twinkling in their eyes. He sees their picture at the draft, Shane trying to be happy though he lost an unofficial competition to Ilya. Shane and Ilya holding their individual cups, Shane with two more than Ilya. Even a still of the video that outed them. Them and their love, so blatant and visible. It puts a smile on Luca’s face.
There’s the happy couple. Shane and Ilya standing with Bood, Troy and Dykstra. They’re fine, easy going and Luca thinks about joining them. But then he sees Shane excuse himself and walk to the kitchen. He thinks about following Shane, maybe wanting to be around someone who is so easy to be not nervous with. But Shane returns, a new beer in hand. He rejoins the conversation, laughing with Troy, even as he uncaps the replaces the beer Ilya had. Luca didn’t even notice Ilya ask for one. But the side look and secret smile before Ilya takes a drink tells him he didn’t have to ask. Shane just knew.
Later in the evening, the guys are a little more drunk, a little more free. Even Luca is feeling good. Feeling himself. Shane had brought him a mixed can drink and told him to be careful but in good fun. Shane knew he didn’t drink much but this cocktail was good. And easy to drink. Luca watches as the guys start running to the back yard, planning to try and slide down the hill made of snow. Ilya is heading towards the door, but Shane grabs his arm and pulls him away. Luca can’t help but get closer, leaning against the wall, wanting to hear even if he can’t see them.
“Shane, husband, the guys--”
“You can go in a minute. Put on the snow pants.”
“Nyet, love, I am not 5. Let me go--”
“At least the jacket?”
Ilya sighs, the put upon sigh of many young reckless boys. “Ok fine. I will wear the jacket.”
“And the pads?”
“Shane. I play on skates. I will be fine.”
“Then the helmet! At least that! Please!”
Another put upon sigh and the sounds of kissing. “Fiiine.” Shane giggles and the sound of the chin strap locking, securing the helmet onto Ilya’s head. Luca looks at the hallways as Ilya comes through, his head in a hockey helmet, new puffy coat on. He races to the backyard, intending to catch up to the other reckless guys, uncaring about the cold.
Shane follows with a besotted smile on his face though it drops in surprise when he sees how close Luca was to their private moment. But then Luca can see Shane’s shoulder relax, followed by a happy smile. “Want a coat? I figure we can laugh at them from the porch.” And Luca takes the coat, so glad he did when they step outside into the frigid air. Lips are already turning blue on the guys who raced outside without a single care for the weather. Except for Ilya. In his coat. And helmet.
The time outside is short. Shane and Luca have coats and they’re freezing. The WAGs were smart and didn’t come outside, watching from the warmth of the home. The guys come in and immediately work on getting warmth. Ilya sheds his coat and helmet by the back door. Luca hadn’t seen him, but Shane had gone and grabbed a blanket and sweater for Ilya, putting the cozy cable knit sweater on Ilya without a word, wrapping him in the blanket. The guys try to find sympathy from their partners but there is none. Shane is the sympathy, bringing out a large basket of blankets that the guys tear apart looking for warmth.
Shane is a wonderful host. Makes sure everyone eats enough, drinks enough, laughs enough. But Luca sees as Shane starts bringing out bottles of water, making sure everyone is drinking. Shane takes the new can from his hand and replaces it with a bottle of water, smiling friendly before putting the can back in his other hand. Shane is a mother hen of epic proportions.
Ilya gets it worse. Shane has replaced his glass of vodka with a glass of water, and he keeps looking at it with confusion. Shane makes him drink at least half of it before placing a brownie bite against his lips. Ilya brightens with it, opening his mouth and eating it, taking Shane’s fingers into his mouth with it. And Shane smiles, just happy at Ilya. Luca could watch them being happy and in love forever. He’s lucky enough to be surrounded by this love every day.
+1
Ilya is sitting by the bonfire with some of the other guys. Shane is inside, entertaining the WAGs who didn’t want to smell like smoke. It’s a great party, a great end to their season. They almost had it, making it to the playoffs but fucking Scott Hunter wanted another trophy so badly...
Ilya looks over his shoulder, smiling when he catches sight of Shane talking with Harris, nodding enthusiastically. Shane struggles sometimes with feeling like he belongs but here, in this house, Shane is in his element. And being with Harris, someone who made him feel normal? Shane was surely happy as could be.
“Hey can I ask you something, Cap?”
Ilya turned back to his coworkers, teammates, friends. He loved these guys almost as much as he loved Shane. Well, obviously not the same but... “Da?”
“It doesn't bother you that Shane is... not affectionate?”
Ilya is confused. He can’t help his physical reaction to this nor can he help the way he laughs out a “what?”
But the guy continues. “Yeah, I mean, you’re so touchy feely and Shane’s like not. Doesn’t that ever bother you?”
Ilya was even more confused. “I... I must be missing something. What?”
The guy who’s talking to him, groans but won’t drop it. “Yeah, I mean... You’re always touching on him and he like puts up with it. That doesn’t hurt your feelings?”
Shane never put up with anything he didn’t want. Shane wasn’t comfortable with PDA or being super obvious with touching because of the many years of hiding but he accepted it. He was always holding Ilya’s hand, always touching his shoulder, always pressed against him. What the fuck were they talking about. “No?”
Another guy jumps in. “There’s no way it doesn't hurt. I mean, look at the house. You have all these pictures, but the guy didn’t even talk about them. When I asked about one of them, Shane refused to even acknowledge the question. Like he was ashamed or something.”
Shane didn’t like talking about the pictures. When he had shown them to Ilya, after the final decorating, Shane had been so shy and nervous, just red in the face as he explained he had watched so much footage of them over the years and had built this scrapbook but now that they were open, he wanted to make sure it was visible. And Shane hadn’t even been able to tell his parents about it, instead blushing and nearly crying as his mom and dad had looked around the room and just...knew.
But now, this guy, who didn’t fucking know was trying to put words and feelings out there. Put something where it had no reason of belonging.
“No.”
Ilya looked at Luca, surprised by the anger on his face. Luca never got angry like this. Like he was going to leap across the fire and beat up this guy, a guy Ilya knew Luca normally liked. “Shane loves Ilya. How the fuck,” Ilya’s eyebrows climbed higher as Luca swore when he normally never did, “can you not see this?”
And Ilya opened his mouth to say something but Barrett beat him to it. “Yeah man, can’t you tell? Can’t you see that Shane might love Ilya more?”
Which...not a great point. Ilya loved Shane a lot. This was one competition they were never going to settle which they were both happy with. But other people couldn’t side with Shane. “Troy--”
“Yeah, Shane would probably kick you out if he heard you ever mention that again.” Ilya just looked at Bood who also looked like he was going to jump over this fire. “Shane and Ilya are madly in love and if you don’t fucking like it, get bent.”
“I’m not saying I have a problem with it! I just mean Ilya is so obvious and Shane--”
“Shane doesn’t have to be obvious. That’s Ilya’s job. Shane shows his love in other ways and you’re just mad you’re not part of it.” Hazy crossed his arms, daring the other player to say anything. Ilya looked around the fire pit at his team ready to fight for Ilya and Shane.
Dykstra scoffed. “I didn’t realize you were fucking blind. We should get some kind of award for having you on the team.” Chuckles and snorts went around the circle as they continued glaring down and admonishing this player who apparently couldn’t see.
“Fuck you guys. I know I’m not the only one who thinks this! Shane doesn’t like being kissed after games, Shane doesn’t want to be touched in the locker room, Shane pulls away all the fucking time! I’m not the only one who notices it. Fuck, even look at the pictures in the house! Ilya probably had to spend so much time just trying to find pictures of them together. Does Shane even appreciate that? I’m just asking!”
And Ilya laughs. Laughs big and loud and ridiculous. Because this whole conversation is ridiculous. Just wild. When he finally stops, he wipes an imaginary tear away and looks at the distressed player. Who is just looking out for Ilya. Who is worried his Captain isn’t getting enough love from his husband. Who doesn’t understand Shane’s love. “I did not put pictures up. Shane had home decorated and asked decorator to put his secret book on the walls. I had no part in decorating. That is all Shane.”
And there it is. The realization. The soft, “oh.” Because now he sees it. Now do the others who didn’t see it before. Shane loves Ilya. So much. In so many ways.
“But...” The player is confused and looks close to tears. “How... Why” So many thoughts cross his face.
Ilya sighed. Shane was going to kill him for sharing such a personal thing, but it would make everything click. “We were in hiding for so long. I can’t hold it in. I can’t stop being ‘obvious,’” Ilya made the finger quotes, “It bursts out of chest like alien. But Shane... Shane has loved me in secret far longer than we have been public. He cannot stop. He fears this team, the NHL, the fans, everyone will turn on him. Like has been done before.” Ilya won’t speak of Montreal in this moment, but it’s known. “He shows love very differently. He had hidden, giant, creepy book through the years.” He gets a wild idea, something he knew Shane would be too embarrassed to do. “Would you like to see?”
Ilya watched as everyone sat up, intrigued. A glimpse in the mind of Shane Hollander. Absolutely. Ilya chuckles even as he stands. “Come. Is in trophy room.”
And Ilya leads the merry field trip inside, smiling innocently at his husband who turns to look at them. He can’t say it because Shane is so embarrassed by it. But Ilya thinks it’s so sweet. He loves that Shane hadn’t known what to do with his feelings so instead, he put it into action. Had kept a physical memory of them.
The guys can’t help but gasp when they get to the trophy room. Ilya understands. When they were putting the boxes in the room, Ilya had been surprised to see it so full. But they were the best in hockey, so it was completely understandable that they had so many achievements.
Upon entry, there were their old jerseys hung on the wall. A Boston Bears Rozanov and a Montreal Voyageurs Hollander. At first Shane hadn’t wanted those up, hadn’t wanted a reminder of the hurt. But above those two were a mock-up that Ilya had gotten Harris to make custom. It was a Hollander-Rozanov Ottawa Centaur’s jersey, hanging proudly and lit up over the two. A blatant reminder that they had come together and were living a dream neither one of them had ever hoped to dream.
On Ilya’s side was the first shelf that held his Cup ring and miniature but space for so many more. Then his MVP and every other award he had earned from his youth days to now. On Shane’s side were three more miniature cups, three more rings, Rookie of the Year, and admittedly, a few more trophies from peewee to now. But on a pedestal was a stand holding an overflowing scrapbook. Ilya went there.
This was Ilya’s personal favorite book. It was from the beginning. Shane has been keeping track of his games and his career just a little longer than he ever admitted. Shane would tell him he hadn’t known what he felt at the time. He just needed to do something. That he had been overwhelmed and mildly amazed when he saw him play and just... had to start watching for him. Ilya takes the book and opens it on the table in the center of the room. They joked the table was where the cup would go when they won again. But really, this was the table Ilya liked to take Shane apart on. Liked to remind Shane that he was an impressive human who deserved all the praise and appreciation he received.
He opened the book to the first page, feeling as the guys crept closer, peering over his shoulder. He didn’t say a word, even as he began slowly turning pages, showing the hard work, dedication, and devotion of Shane.
The book showed their individual stories and how they intertwined, ran parallel, intersected. Shane had spent way more hours than he would ever admit putting together this book, putting together their story. When he had finally shown it to Ilya, he had been so embarrassed, so scared. He had almost started crying when he admitted he had felt so much for the first time and hadn’t known what to do because they couldn’t be anything, couldn’t be more than what they were but he had to know it was real. And Ilya had cried. Had cried so hard and for so long that he had needed a nap after. But when he awoke, he had told Shane again, repeatedly, and so fucking loudly, that he loved him. Even with his creepy stalker book.
The pages end when their story ended. Or at least paused. When Ilya had seen it, seen the blank pages, Shane had admitted he had been so heartbroken because he didn’t think he could have it. Didn’t think he could have Ilya that he had almost destroyed the whole thing. But he had been so gone already that he just... forced himself to stop. Stop watching the videos, stopped watching for them together, stopped keeping track, just stopped. It had hurt both Shane and Ilya when they realized they could have had more.
But the next book picked up at that fateful Allstars game. The one that saw them together again. Started with their team picture and ended with their outing. That one was Shane’s favorite book. That one he kept elsewhere.
Ilya closed the book and looked around. He couldn’t help the surprise when he realized everyone around him was crying. Silently, sniffing, trying to pretend like they weren’t. He understood. It was a lot to take it.
“Ilya?”
Ilya and the guys looked up as Shane walked into the trophy room, fear and confusion covering his face, his eyes fixed on the book resting on the table he would usually be resting on. Well.
“Why are you looking at that?”
The guys erupt, crying and rushing to Shane, hugging him, yelling that they see it now. That Shane loves Ilya so much and Ilya just watches as his husband is bombarded. His husband who is not used to obvious displays of love that he got embarrassed and would shy away or would tell him to stop. All because he got overwhelmed with it. And not to mention that Shane sometimes wanted to kick his feet in glee over it.
Luca stands next to Ilya, looking down at the book. Ilya turns to him, not knowing what to expect from the young man Shane treated so kindly and had secretly expected to be better than them.
Luca looked up at Ilya, a softness in his face. He really did look so young like this. “I hope I find someone who loves me like this.”
And Ilya laughed, even as his own tears started falling. Yeah. Ilya was so lucky Shane had found him. That they had found each other. That they had worked. Ilya was so lucky to be loved by Shane.