Chapter Text
Shane slams into the house in an uncharacteristic fit of temper and tosses his bag onto the floor. Angry tears are pricking at his eyes. The judge’s condescending words still echoing in his head as he had passed his ruling in the favor of the defendants. He had looked directly at Shane and said, “These rules are in place for your own protection, son.”
Shane had never wanted any of this. He hadn’t wanted to be the one leading the charge in the test case of Hollander versus the National Sports League. He hadn’t wanted to be an activist for omega rights. He had only wanted to fucking play hockey, it was all he had ever dreamed of. It’s what he was good at. He was number one in his division of the junior league and possibly the best overall.
The only problem was he couldn’t play hockey without one of two things happening, either he would have to be mated or he would have to challenge the archaic law that stated that unmated omegas couldn’t play professional hockey. He had tried the latter route only to lose the initial case and two appeals. The other route made him feel a little nauseous, a marriage of convenience to some alpha who would only be in it for the money. To have to actually be marked by and mated to that alpha so that he wouldn’t be in danger of being taken advantage of by some alpha on the ice using their pheromones to have an unfair advantage over him. Or, although no one said it, some teammate or coach taking advantage of him in other ways off the ice. For his protection, but the alphas in such cases never faced consequences for not keeping their pheromones to themselves. It was only considered the inevitable outcome of an omega being in traditionally alpha spaces.
The league even considered themselves advanced. They had changed the rules to allow mated omegas to play professional sports. They had stated that only mated omegas were safe because they were protected from other alpha’s pheromones by their mate's mark.
Yuna Hollander follows Shane into the house looking equally as angry as her son, but also a little helpless. They had been preparing for this day since Shane had first presented as an omega. Yuna knew that the road her son faced would not be easy for him. She wanted Shane to have everything that he ever dreamed of, he had worked hard and deserved it. Damn the league and their stupid outdated rules.
They are followed by David Hollander who only looks helpless and a little sad. Both of Shane’s parents are betas, but they have always strove hard to teach Shane that he could be anything he wanted to be. Now the world had the nerve to tell him that wasn’t true.
“We’ll file another appeal,” Yuna states with determination she doesn’t feel.
Now Shane looks more defeated than angry. “It won’t do any good. It will just be another waste of time. I…I want to be alone for a while.”
Yuna just nods at this, knowing that Shane needs his space at the moment. They will figure out what to do later.
Shane is pulled out of his spiralling thoughts about an hour later when there is a soft knock at his door. Yuna sticks her head in warily.
“Shane, I’ve just gotten off the phone with Commissioner Crowell’s secretary. He wants to know if we will come to New York to meet with him next week. He probably just wants to put an end to this lawsuit and the bad publicity it is bringing him. If you want me to I’ll tell him to fuck off.” Yuna says.
Shane manages a smile at this. His mother wouldn’t hesitate to tell the Commissioner of the national hockey league just that, using those exact words.
Shane shrugs, maybe it is time to be done with this, he can still play in the amateur leagues. They weren’t as strict with who could play for them. He’s already been approached by two or three with offers. “We should hear what he has to say.”
Yuna studies Shane for a minute then says. “Okay I will call her back and let her know.”
The Hollanders are given an all expense paid trip to New York and booked into the penthouse suite of one of the top hotels. It seems like Crowell is going out of his way to impress them so that they will listen to what he has to say.
The commissioner greets Yuna and David with handshakes when they are shown into the office then he turns to Shane with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Son, I just want to start off by saying I know we have had our differences in the past, but I have to say that I really admire your spirit. You are exactly the type of player that the NHL needs to represent them, the type of player that a certain demographic of fans could root for.” Shane can’t help but think that the man sounds like a used car salesman trying to offload a lemon to an unsuspecting customer. “The thing is we can’t just change the long standing rules for one, uh, player. I think we might have found a way to get around this thing though.”
Crowell walks to his desk and clicks a couple of keys on his laptop, then turns it around for them to see. Shane immediately recognizes the picture. Ilya Rozanov, Russia’s top prospect.
“Mr. Rozanov wants to come play for us, but he is having trouble securing a visa that will allow him to travel freely with his team. That could all be alleviated if he were to marry a Canadian citizen. A Canadian citizen like Shane for instance. Both boys would get to live out their dreams of playing hockey, in fact I already have a team lined up willing to take Shane.” Crowell beams at this as if he expects congratulations for solving all their problems in one go.
Shane bristles at these words. He knows how good he is and knows that the top teams in the league would be scouting him if he wasn’t an omega. Still he is giving the commissioner’s offer serious consideration. Ilya Rozanov. Of course Shane knows who he is. Over the last year he has taken an extreme interest in the Russian player. He is very good, and Shane isn’t ashamed to admit it, more than a little sexy. Shane doubts anyone is telling Ilya that there is a team that is willing to take him either. The league is trying to make arrangements so that he can play for a North American team. He will be snapped up in the draft.
Shane thinks if he has to have a mate to get what he wants there are worse choices than Ilya. At least they have a common interest in hockey.
“My son is only seventeen,” Yuna points out. Shane’s birthday isn’t for another couple months and Shane knows that Ilya is a month younger than he is.
“No one is suggesting the boys get married right away,” Crowell says with a slimy smile. “I just thought with the upcoming Canada versus Russia prospect series next week maybe they could get to know each other a little. If they want to go from there, then an engagement is enough to proceed with before the draft for both Shane and Ilya. The marriage itself wouldn’t have to take place until the summer before their rookie season.”
So just over a year to come to terms with a completely life changing decision.
Yuna starts to say something else, but Shane puts a hand on her arm. When she looks at him, surprised, Shane shakes his head. He understands his mother would rather keep fighting in court, keep filing appeals, but Shane is tired of it all.
“I’ll talk to Ilya at the tournament.” Shane says. “It can’t hurt to talk right?”
Yuna huffs at this, but she knows Shane has made up his mind.
Crowell gives a delighted laugh, “That’s the spirit, son.” He even claps Shane on the back. Whatever else Shane has learned from this meeting, he knows one thing for sure, the commissioner is not his ally. In fact in some sick, twisted part of his brain he is probably congratulating himself for putting a troublesome omega in his place and at the same time figuring out an easy solution to get his hands on Ilya.
Shane hates the situation, but he doesn’t hate Ilya for his part in it. He knows the alpha just wants the same thing he does, to play hockey.
The league has arranged a dinner “date” for the two of them, but Shane is determined that their first meeting will not be at some pretentious restaurant chaperoned by his parents and Ilya’s coach.
He takes his opportunity to meet the alpha when he sees Ilya slip out a side door after the Russian team practices. Yuna had left to meet with a possible sponsor and Shane had told her he wanted to stay. He wasn’t the only team Canadian player watching, it wasn’t unusual for the teams to try to get a read on each other. He had seen some of the Russian players in the stands while they had been running drills earlier. Including Ilya flanked by a man Shane assumed was his coach. He had heard that Ilya’s family hadn’t traveled with him. Most of the other players had at least one family member with them.
Shane finds Ilya standing directly under a no smoking sign, cigarette in hand. Shane is a little surprised, he doesn’t know anyone their age that smokes, mainly because the people Shane knows are athletes. There is also the fact that smoking tends to overwhelm an alpha’s scent and most alphas are particular about their scents, some even use products to enhance them.
“Ilya Rozanov?” Shane extends his hand, choosing to ignore the cigarette. “Shane Hollander.”
Ilya stares at him for a minute, taking a drag off the cigarette. Shane is sure that Ilya isn’t going to accept his handshake. Then the alpha sticks the cigarette in his mouth and shakes Shane’s hand.
Okay Shane can’t ignore the cigarette, it’s a rule and rules have to be followed. “I don’t think you are supposed to smoke here.”
Ilya shrugs at this, “Okay.” Is his only response. He leans back against the wall staring out over the parking lot as if Shane wasn’t still there.
Shane mimics his behaviour awkwardly, not sure what else to do. He is almost grateful when his phone beeps with the message that his parents are waiting for him in front of the building.
“I should go, they are waiting for me, but it was nice to meet you.” He holds out his hand again. This time Ilya smiles slightly when he takes it.
Just as Shane turns to leave, Ilya speaks slowly with a heavy accent as if he is searching for the correct words. “You are very good. Should be allowed to play.”
Shane turns back to him surprised. Most alphas have taken the side of the league that unmated omegas had no business on the ice. “Thank you.”
Ilya gives him a crooked smile, “I am better.”
This sparks Shane’s inherently competitive nature. “We’ll see about that.”
Ilya shrugs again. “Yes.”
Shane comes away with two impressions of Ilya Rozanov. He is an asshole and he is so much hotter in person.
Shane wears his new blue suit for the dinner date. He always feels so awkward in suits, like a kid playing dress up in his father’s clothes. This one doesn’t really suit him either, in his opinion. Shane only ever cares if his clothes are comfortable and the suit fails that test immediately. It doesn’t help that Shane is nervous about tonight to begin with.
Ilya of course looks devastatingly handsome in his black suit. His blond curls look almost golden under the restaurant’s lighting. He looks grim under his coach’s watchful eye. None of the cockiness or smug attitude he displayed earlier.
He greets Yuna and David politely and gives Shane a stiff nod.
“It’s good to meet you, son.” Yuna tells him. David gives both the coach and Ilya a quick firm handshake before they take their seats.
Yuna, used to tension filled business meetings, leads the conversation with a story of watching Ilya and the Russian team play the Swedish Junior Hockey team last year. She is very complimentary of Ilya’s form but doesn’t spare him the slight criticism of his stick handling. This makes Ilya’s coach frown, but Shane catches a flash of a smile from Ilya himself.
“My mother,” Shane grumbles. “Is hockey obsessed.”
Yuna and David both laugh at this. “It’s true.” David confirms.
“Anyway,” Yuna says. “I just want to say I know what it is like to immigrate from another country, although I was much younger than Ilya when my family moved here from Japan. So I am here if you need any advice.”
Another frown from the coach and another quick smile from Ilya. Shane isn’t sure Ilya understands everything his mother has said, but he has obviously taken an immediate liking to Shane’s parents. That’s one plus if they are going to be mates.
Russia beats Canada in the tournament. It’s not an easy win, Shane fights hard for the victory, but in the end Ilya manages to get past the Canadian team's defense and score more goals. Ilya lines up with his team to shake hands with the Canadian team.
“Good game,” he mutters to every player until he reaches Shane. To him he whispers low, “See you at engagement party.” Shane pauses and looks at him, a blush painting his cheeks that looks very pretty with his freckles. It had been Shane’s freckles that Ilya had noticed first when he had shook the omega’s hand. The second thing he had noticed had been Shane’s scent. It was crisp and sweet like a mix of fresh snow and the chamomile flowers his mother used to grow in pots at their Moscow apartment. After she had died his father had thrown out those flowers as if trying to remove all traces that his wife had once lived. Ilya had secretly cried over those flowers, that had been the last time he had allowed himself to shed tears.
Shane finally gives him a curt nod and shakes his hand. Their engagement party is set for June, right before the draft takes place.
At first Ilya had only agreed because of the visa but now he is glad that if he has to do this thing it is with Shane Hollander. It’s not like they will be living together anyway. He has already heard rumors that Ottawa is taking Shane and although it will be a few months before the draft Ilya is almost certain he will go to a team in the US, probably New York or Boston. Ilya hopes for Boston, he intends to be a star and he doesn’t want to compete with Scott Hunter for the spotlight.
Ilya glances warily at his coach, knowing the man will report every detail of what happened on the trip to his father. His father will be pleased that Russia won but will still find plenty to criticize Ilya about.
Ilya goes to the locker room and showers, dressing carefully for the trip home. He dreams of the day when he will be free of his father and Russia, then feels guilty for his thoughts. He knows his father would tell him what an ungrateful son he is if he knew what Ilya was thinking now. He is already mad at Ilya for not agreeing to play for Russia and furious that Ilya agreed to marry an omega. His father seems to have a deep seated loathing for omegas even though his first wife had been one. That thought brings up too many bad memories for Ilya.
Ilya turns his attention back to thoughts of the upcoming engagement party and the scent of chamomile and fresh snow.