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2017, Boston, two weeks after All Star Game
Hey, did you hear about Rozanov?
What about Rozanov?
He did not fly with the rest of the team to Nashville.
He flew separately?
He did not go to Nashville at all.
He didn’t get hurt last night, did he?
Not that I know of.
No, he didn’t.
Maybe he is sick.
He is not. I mean, he didn’t seem sick.
Who gives a shit?
Shane took his phone and sent a short “Are you ok?” to Lily and got just “Going to Russia. My father. I need to go. Sorry.”
Sorry.
That is the last word Ilya told him before he died.
Shane watches the news with the team, after their training that day. He sees the footage on the big screen at the lobby of the stadium and can hear the deep silence of everyone in the room. There is a reporter at some airport. The simulation of the flying route from Boston to Moscow. Some transcription of the pilots conversation found on the wreckage. Information about the velocity during the crash on the ocean and the temperature at Finland waters. Numbers about passengers and bodies found. Bodies. Not people, bodies.
The reporter lowers his voice and looks really sad when he says that Ilya Rozanov’s body has not been found.
Some of the guys are swearing, some are just silent. Shane can see one or another with tears running down their faces. He is trembling. Breathing is hard, his body is melting from inside out. His guts are boiling in cold ice. He runs to the nearby trash can and throws up. It feels like he is bleeding.
Hayden is there, at his side, talking about him being safe, to calm down. He helps Shane to put himself together. He was still shaking, but nodded his head and got his breath.
No one knows.
No one should know.
No one will ever know.
He can’t talk about it. About Ilya. About them.
So he doesn’t talk.
The next few days are a blur. News about the crash was in constant flow, some people were found alive at Finland coast, but in hard physical condition, and got hospitalized. Some more bodies are found too, but not Ilya’s. The news show some footage of him playing and say that he was traveling to his father's funeral, the only family he has alive now is a brother and a niece. The brother didn’t talk with the press. No one is close enough to Rozanov in Russia to make any kind of statement about the accident, so no one talks about him.
Shane doesn’t talk too.
In Boston, some friends make brief statements about Ilya. Some cry. Some just refuse to talk.
Shane isn’t asked to talk.
Montreal’s PR does a brief statement about the team position that contemplated the rivalry and the history between Rozanov and Hollander at the ice, but nothing deep.
One week later Shane attends a symbolic funeral to Ilya Rozanov in Boston. His body is still missing. He is reported dead by the press. Russia agrees with this statement. His brother has not said anything yet, but news reports indicate that he is managing Ilya's assets and settling his brother's legal matters in the United States.
The history of Ilya Rozanov reaches the end.
Because he is dead.
Shane doesn’t cry.
He doesn’t say anything.
Nobody gave him their condolences.
There is no one to give condolences to.
Because there was no one that was really close to Ilya.
Fans leave flowers, letters and mementos on Boston Raiders’ Stadium. Some colleagues from the team tell tales and memories about their captain. There are some pictures showing Rozanov’s brave face or annoying smile, but none with the look he gives to Shane seconds before kissing him.
That one he is never going to see again.
Everybody just respects the fact that he, his greatest rival, doesn’t say anything.
After that the news just gives the accident some last details before it stops talking about it at all. The NHL does some tributes before the next games, but soon everything comes back to normal. Shane honors his commitment: he plays, he guides his team, he does some interviews and chooses to not comment when they ask about Rozanov, until they stop talking about him too.
Like him doesn’t talk.
Hayden tells him he is in hockey robot mode. He says it like a joke, but Shane can hear how he is a little worried. He smiles at his friend and come back to the ice to give more suicides before go to his empty apartment or some hotel room. His bed is colder than the ice.
But he talks about amenities with Hayden and his parents. His mother sounds worried too, she tells him how scared she gets when she thinks that it could be him every time he gets on a plane. Some voice on the back of his head says he would be happier if he was on that plane, holding Ilya’s hand seconds before the crash, their bodies falling apart together, like that is supposed to be.
But he doesn’t say it.
He doesn’t say anything.
He knows - he feels it crawling under his skin deeper and deeper at every second - that something on him died with Ilya. He tries very hard not to think about it, but it gnaws at his body and his soul letting him like an empty shell, just echoing everything around him.
The moment he breaks is, of course, on the next game against Boston.
On the ice, he has been faster, more aggressive, more surgical on his moves. It does not feel like he is playing, it’s not fun anymore, it’s just his job, something he does because he knows exactly how to do it and do it well, but he is not really there.
When he comes to the center of the ice to face Boston's captain and he doesn’t have beautiful blue eyes or golden curls under his helmet or moles around his face, when he doesn’t smile at him in a provocative way, something just breaks inside Shane and he just doesn’t know what to do.
He loses the face-off. He didn’t even try. Because he doesn’t move.
And, because it’s hockey, no one seems to notice before someone just crashes hard against him and he loses consciousness.
Shane awakes on a hospital bed. His mom and dad are in the room with him. They ask how he is feeling and he just signs, feeling exhausted. His mom started to talk about his injuries - a concussion and a fractured collarbone, out of the playoffs, but could’ve been worse. He doesn’t feel anything. He is still empty and lost. It's like he is in deep pain, but his body is numb, anesthetized.
He wants to scream, but he can’t.
Because he can’t talk about what is really hurting him.
So he doesn’t talk.
He doesn’t say anything.
He doesn’t talk anymore.
At all.
His parents note that - that he isn’t talking - and asks things, stuff unimportant that he doesn’t want, doesn’t see any reason to talk about. He just let their words flow through him. It’s like the necessary effort to talk - to move his tongue and throat to make sounds - is too much, too hard, it's not worth it.
Because he can’t talk about him.
The doctor comes and runs some tests. He asks for more medical examinations and runs Shane through needles and big machines, the scared and worried eyes of his parents following everything.
Shane is ok, getting better from the ice injuries, but nothing that could compromise his ability to speak. The doctors notice that he is not even trying. They say that it must be psychosomatic and send him to psychotherapy.
Shane goes to therapy, but he doesn’t talk.
It’s very hard to be a team captain if you don’t talk. Actually, it’s not something Shane is trying to do too. Not anymore. He skates on loops on the ice until he forgets what he is doing there and just comes back to the locker room. Sometimes he cries and watches the tears get frozen when they hit the ice. It’s beautiful and sad, like dead blue eyes. Sometimes he can see Ilya under the ice, cold, pale, without breathing, just floating on the cold sea.
One day his couch calls his parents because he was just kneeling on the ice, looking at it and silently crying, and he didn’t know what to do with Shane. His mom talks to him until they can take him home and he just doesn’t come back to the ice again.
There is no one to face there anymore, but he can’t talk about it.
He listens to someone on the TV talking about how the hockey world lost their two biggest players just three months apart: Rozanov’s death and Hollander's early retirement. They don’t know they both got gone on the same event. They say that some kind of side effect of the accident at the Boston game has taken Shane from the ice. They can’t see that his accident was a side effect of Ilya’s death.
But small details like that don't matter anymore.
Nothing matters anymore.
Shane goes through daily life with no real effort: he showers, he eats, he reacts to what people ask from him, he sleeps a lot because he feels tired all the time and he tries very hard to keep in his numb and pained mind every detail of Ilya.
Every time a door opens in front of him, he can see Ilya for a moment, welcoming him to a new room. Every time he takes his clothes off, he can feel Ilya’s eyes on his body, following his movements, waiting for him to fold everything before coming close to kiss him. Every time someone offers him something to drink or eat, he can listen to Ilya's voice asking him if it’s cold enough, if it's good enough, if it’s okay.
But every time he sees Ilya, he is pale. Every time he feels Ilya’s touch, it’s cold. Every time he looks at Ilya’s eyes, it’s dead.
But he can’t talk about it.
At therapy, he is asked why he doesn’t talk.
He knows, because it’s a secret.
Nobody can knows.
The secret is important. Their careers can be destroyed. Ilya can’t come back to Russia. He can be arrested, or worse.
But he doesn’t have a career anymore.
And Ilya is dead.
Still, the secret is something they shared. Is something theirs. Theirs - his and Ilya’s. Like a memento.
Something that no one else should know.
His psychiatrist suggests medication, but his father says he is not doping his son and his mom asks what they are going to medicate him for, they don’t even know what is affecting him. The doctor explains that he is in pain and the meds can help, but nobody seems to know what is causing it because he doesn’t express it in any way. The meds can ease the pain so he comes back to talk, or draw, or play, or express himself, to deal with the source of his pain.
But he doesn’t even know if he wants that to go away. The pain is because Ilya is dead and nothing can bring him back.
So he just shakes his head to his parents saying silently that he doesn’t want it. And they respect him.
He didn’t come back to therapy.
He just can’t talk.
He knows he is losing time. He is losing everything, but he can’t give a shit.
The first weeks, they - he and his parents - stay at his apartment in Montreal. Hayden and other players come to visit sometimes, but he just sits at his sofa and lets their talking cross around him until they get tired and go.
Then they went to his parent’s house in Ottawa. He doesn’t know for how long, he is just too numb to care. Hayden and Jackie come sometimes, sometimes they bring the kids too. Shane enjoys the kids’ presence, they don’t look at him with worried faces, for a change. But that is it, he still doesn’t talk.
At some point, they move to his cottage and the visits stop - or he can’t acknowledge it anymore. He thinks they are there because it’s his favorite place in the world. Maybe his parents thought it would be nice for him to be here. It does. He likes to sit on the rocks at the lake and imagine he could bring Ilya here, just to watch his hair and his skin glowing under the summer sun at the deck.
But the Ilya in his vision is cold, pale and dead under the water.
Rose come once. His parents give them some privacy to talk, he thinks she asks them for it, so she can ask him if this is related to his long affair with this secret guy. He nods and cries. It's intense for the first time, he can’t hold it with her, memories of Ilya saying his first name for the first time and looking at him in a dark club while Shane turns his back to him and leaves. He leaves him over and over and over in his nightmares, Ilya calling his name under the ice with dead eyes.
She holds him while he sobs and trembles in her arms. She talks about codependency and broken hearts, but it is not it and she doesn’t have any clue to figure it out. She tells him he should go back to therapy, but he doesn't want to.
He just doesn't talk about it.
There is someone at his home. He is at the deck, but can hear his parents talking with someone. They sound shocked and tense. He is too busy watching a loon fishing for lunch to care. Ilya would say it is boring. He can almost hear his voice, his accent giving him chills every time.
“Shane, you got a visit.” his mom is talking with him, she’s explaining something, something about the news and someone was found and coming to see him. “Rozanov is here. He wants to see you. Is it ok?”
Shane looks at her confused. He is seeing Ilya. Ilya has dead eyes, he can’t see Shane.
“Hollander.” His voice is close, but not so close as when it echoes inside his head. “Are you… are you okay?”
Shane turns to look at him, and he is there, standing at the deck, behind his mom.
He is so beautiful under the summer sun.
“Ilya.”
Shane says and his mom takes her hands to cover her mouth in shock, tears running her face at the rusty sound of his voice. It should be painful to talk after all this time, but he can’t feel it. He can’t feel anything for so long.
He offers his hand toward his vision, an invitation for Ilya to come closer. Ilya’s hand is trembling, but it's warm. Ilya is always cold and pale, but here he's glowing under the sun. Shane guides him until he's sitting on the deck beside him and just lets his head fall onto his shoulder and sighs. Ilya’s hands caresses his face and his scent fills his lungs and he feels anchored as he hasn't felt in months, his body dissolving against the warmth of the body beside him.
He should have more visions like this - it’s his last thought before a heavy sleep takes him.
Someone is shouting.
“He hates you!”
“So he does a good job hating me while letting me kiss him everywhere.”
His mother makes a strangled, disapproving sound.
“I love him!” Ilya’s voice is loud and clear and sure and it gets inside Shane’s chest like a hurricane.
“Since when?” His father sounds more calm, but his voice holds tension.
“Since we met? Since he makes me laugh with a boring joke? Since he beats me at hockey? Since we kissed? Since I woke up with him drooling on my arm? Since it feels like being stabbed by seeing him with someone else?” Ilya stops and sighs “I don’t know. I don’t know how this stops being curiosity and excitatement to me swimming on iced ocean with a broken leg and wreckage on fire around me because I couldn’t accept that I would die before he could know that I love him!”
Shane gets up and walks to the living room. Ilya is still talking.
“I know you have questions, but I’m not the right person to tell you what Shane thinks or feels for me. We… don’t talk about feelings, it’s complicated enough the way it is.” he breathes and Shane can hear in his accent how exhausted he is, cornered by his parents. “But please, please, don’t make me leave before I can talk with him and show him that I’m not dead, to be sure he is okay. Please.”
Shane doesn’t remember listening to Ilya begging for anything. Shane is the one begging all the time, needing, asking for him. And then leaving.
Shane needs him so much it hurts. The pain is still there, but never in his dreams or visions or nightmares Ilya is at his house - his cottage - begging his parents to be with him.
His mind is still numb and confused and he can’t deal with too much besides the fact that Ilya is here, in his living room, with his parents.
And not under the ice, dead.
All three people looked at him when he got in their space, he didn't look at his parents, doing a bee line to Ilya. His hands rests on his hip bone for a second before he holds his shirt to take it off. Ilya looks at his parents, but does nothing to stop him. Shane measures his waist, seeing how thin he is, how many marks and scars are new and fresh on his skin. He touches every mole, checking if they are all there, on his body. If Ilya is all there, complete with him. His hands ran to his neck and he let his forehead rest over his heart. It’s beating, warm and fast, and so so so alive. His chest is moving, he is breathing. He is solid against his body, under his hands, breathing and warm. Shane checks his eyes just in time to watch his pupils blow, holding his inspect, his eyes move in a way Shane got used to with time, indicating that Ilya is evaluating him too.
“Shane…”
His hands are on Shane’s face, touching his jaw, his cheeks, his freckles. And then they are kissing. It’s deep and intense and he holds Ilya’s body hard against him, some part of him still afraid it is a dream and he can vanish on thin air at any second.
“I’m here, moya lyubov. I’m here. I came back to you.”
“Ilya” he repeats his name like a prayer, over and over again. He wants to talk about other things, to ask questions, but he can’t, his throat is not working properly and he really doesn’t know what he really wants to say. “Ilya.”
“It’s ok, sweetheart, it’s ok.” Ilya touches his lips “Your parents told me you can’t speak. I’m happy you remember my name, tho.” he smiles, mischievous, and Shane gives him a fake annoyed look. “I miss you too.” he smiles, uncertain.
Shane takes his hand and guides him to the sofa. He sees his mom opening her mouth to say something, but his father just put a hand on her arm and she closed her lips. But still, Ilya doesn’t sit.
“No, first you eat, then we talk - yes, all us.” he gestures to himself, Shane and his parents. “After that we can get cozy, not yet.”
Something must show in Shane's eyes because Ilya gets serious and touches his face once more.
“You can take a nap between our chores if you need, okay?” Shane holds his hand stronger “I’m not going anywhere.”
Shane looks at his parents, his need written all over his face.
“I’m going to get one of the spare rooms ready for Rozanov. He can stay for how long you want to, son.” but Shane shakes his head and points to his own room.
“Shane, I don’t want your parents to be uncomfortable…”
“No, it is fine.” Yuna sighs “You two are dealing with too much right now, it is clear you need the presence of each other.”
“But, please, keep your shirt on, Rozanov.” David tells and smiles at him.
“Ilya.” he corrected.
“Ilya.” David accepted it “You are, obviously, welcome.” and Yuna nods agreeing with her husband.
After a shower and some spaghetti, his parents ask Ilya about his father and family - and Shane couldn’t stop himself from kissing all the sadness out of him after he shares how he found his mom dead at 12. An accident. Shane trembles thinking about how much sadness Ilya holds himself.
They move to the sofa and Ilya tells Shane about how he survived the crash. It just was possible because Ilya is a professional athlete and russian - and lucky and blessed - so he knew how and was able to swim faster on cold water away from the plane before it submerged, taking with it most of the passengers and crew. He got himself safe over some wreckage before losing consciousness.
He wakes from a coma four months later in a Finland small city where the tide took him. He was found almost dead, with hypothermia, an iron bar through his left thigh from the crash and lost a lot of blood besides it and other small injuries. He will never play again because of it, but it’s a miracle not just that he survived, but he didn’t lose his leg.
He went back to Russia to get new documents and prove he was not dead. He almost got himself in a huge fight with his brother, but he is just a manipulative coward and Ilya doesn't want - or need - to come back to Russia anymore, he doesn’t have anything there now.
He talks with his friend Svetlana, who helps him to get a Canadian visa, once the only thing he talks about at this point is how he is going to reach Shane. He signed up a work contract with Ottawa Centaurs, as coach advisor, to get his visa easier, and got Shane’s parents phone from Harris, the media guy who knows everyone on the east coast (and some people at the west too).
During all the time that Ilya is talking, he does little pauses and small questions that could be answered by Shane, but he still can’t talk and Ilya doesn’t insist.
At some point, Shane is almost sleepy and Ilya just takes him to bed.
Shane awakes and the first thing he sees is dead blue eyes looking empty at him, Ilya’s dead body cold by his side at the bed. His breath catches and a silent scream leaves his body.
“Shane! Shane, wake up!” Russian accent and a warm breath against his face persuade him to open his eyes again. Bright blue fills all his world and he can breathe again.
They hug each other, both trembling, kissing every point of skin they can reach.
“Fuck, I missed you. I missed you so much!”
It has been fourteen months since Tampa, Shane did the math during Ilya’s narrative, and it’s so painful to realise they never have been apart for so long in the last ten years. It’s a scary and lovely thought. But more than being apart, they never before had this terrible fear of not being able to be with each other ever again.
“Ilya…”
Shane wants to say it, it is important, it is huge, it is everything.
But he can’t talk.
“It is ok, it is ok, moya lyubov.” Ilya kisses his hair and his freckles and his lips. “Your parents told me about everything that I missed in your life and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. You were sad and suffering and I couldn’t be here for you.”
The absurdity of these words paralyzed Shane for a moment. Ilya was in a coma. Ilya was dead. And HE is sorry?
Shane takes his curls between his fingers and holds Ilya’s head, touching their foreheads while he tries to regularize his breathing. Ilya is breathing hard too, his hands on his hips, pulling Shane on his lap, and then they are kissing. Sweety and hard and deep and messy and everything they can’t tell each other.
“Your parents are out, buy food or something. I think they will be back in two hours or more.”
Shane took his shirt out before reaching for Ilya and then his hands were in his pants.
“Fuuuuuck, Shane.”
He lays Shane down with care and helps him take his clothes off to then take his own clothes and come back to the bed, kissing his feet, his knee, his thigh, and then his lips. He stops, looking at Shane’s face.
“I need to tell you something that can change everything. And I understand you can’t tell me back, it’s ok, but it’s killing me.” He swallowed with difficulty and took a deep breath “I love you.”
He closes his eyes and just lets the words set down.
“I need to know if that is ok, if you want it, if you want me. Because I don’t have anyone anymore, Shane, I am literally starting over, everything, and all that I want is to do it with you, nothing is more important.”
He breathes for some seconds and then opens his eyes, looking at him, seriously.
“If you don’t want it, it is okay. I’m going to leave you and settle far away, maybe marry Svetlana to get citizenship and, I don’t know, work. Something.” he sounds uncertain, lost “I don’t want to impose this on you, but…”
“I love you.” It's like a wind blow. Soft and faster. His voice is low and hoarse for no use, but he can see that Ilya hears it because tears are washing his face.
Ilya hides his face on his neck and breathes heavily for some seconds, quietly russian words warm against his skin and Shane just closes his eyes, relishing on this moment, his heart beating so hard it could just jump to Ilya’s chest.
“I love you” Shane repeats, just because he can say these words .
Ilya fucks him like it is the first time, like he never have touched him before, like they are meeting again and again and again in every move. Shane can feel it too, like Ilya’s body is somehow new for him, with new marks, new moves, new touches, new feelings. And still, it’s like coming back home after a long trip. A bad, tiring, difficult, long trip.
His orgasm grows in waves, silent and continuous until he is trembling and screaming Ilya’s name while he is being fucked hard against the matress until Ilya comes inside him with Shane’s name on his lips.
But then his moans turn to sobs and he is crying. He is crying like he didn’t know he could cry. He’s crying with all his body and soul, holding Ilya on his arms, on top of him and around him and inside him, like he can hold his life and soul together.
He holds him knowing he could never leave him again.
Shane and Ilya are napping on the couch when his parents come back. The sounds of their arrival wakes him up, but he doesn’t open his eyes, just moves slightly, getting himself comfortable over Ilya’s chest. He feels his mother’s fingers petting his hair before she sits in front of them.
“I owe you an apology.” She knows Shane is awake, but she’s talking with Ilya “I obviously didn’t know about your relationship and I acted on my son’s protection knowing he is at a vulnerable place right now.” she sighs “But I was unnecessarily rude with you when you arrived and I apologised. I think I take your rivalry so seriously - so more serious than you both, clearly, but that is not justificatory for the awful things I told you. You obviously care and are good for Shane and I want you to know that I’m going to support you and help to protect what you are building together.”
“I… accepted it.” Ilya says, uncertain if it is the appropriate answer. He moves to a more seated position, making Shane moves too, and smiles at Yuna and David “I’m really happy Shane has such awesome parents and so fierce mother.” he takes a deep breath “My mother was fierce too, she insisted with my father that I played hockey instead to be police like him and my brother. She was just… sad.” he looks younger and sad too while talking about her “My father was too hard on her and he became harder after her… accident. It was difficult, at home, and I’m really happy that Shane had a different family to grow up in.”
“You are part of this family now, you know.” David says, looking at Yuna and Shane for confirmation. Ilya can feel Shane nodding against his chest and Yuna is smiling at him. He feels welcomed and warmed in a way he didn’t know he could feel anymore.
Shane was reading when he notes Ilya limping in the kitchen, helping his father to get lunch ready for them. He stands and gets closer, just to confirm that, yes, Ilya is limping in a way he is familiar from ice.
“You are in pain.”
That is the third phrase he is able to say after he stops to talk. The first was Ilya’s name and the second was “I love you”. He keeps telling both with some frequency.
“And you are talking.” Ilya smiles and comes to kiss him, but he is shaking his head and looks at his mother in silent plea.
“I'm gonna get some pain killers. Have you checked your wound since coming back, son?”
Ilya smiles like an idiot listening to her calling him “son” and Shane kisses him before he answers.
“Uh, no. I got checked before leaving Finland and they told me it's permanent and the pain comes and goes.” his smile fading “I’m used to pain, is okay.”
“Well, you don’t need to. I’m going to get an appointment with our doctor, but I suppose you must keep some attention from the Centaurs’ medical team too, once you are travelling with the team. The pre-season must start soon, right?”
“Yes, next week, but I don’t know if I’m gonna travel with the team.”
“If you are a coach advisor, you must.” she pauses “If you are afraid of flying, it’s understanding.”
“No, I thought that I was going to freak out when I flew from Russia. I was scared, but it was relatively okay. I think I can do that. I just…”
He looks at Shane.
Oh.
Shane shakes his head, furious, and pushes him to the front door.
“Oh, now you are kicking me out? Nice boyfriend, you are.”
Shane stops and faces him, upset.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m going to work and get some good money to provide for my beautiful and sexy boyfriend that I keep at home cheering for my team. That's a first, after all. Maybe you can join the WAG group or something. I don’t know how it works, I never had an official partner before.”
Shane looks at him, gagging and shocked.
Ilya wants to get public?
His heart is pounding inside his chest and he can’t breathe.
“Shane?”
His father helps him to sit down and Ilya is coaching him to breathe, but he can’t.
He is panicking.
He can’t breath.
He can’t talk.
He faints.
Shane awakes on their bed, but it’s empty. Her mom is in a chair by his side.
“How are you, baby?”
He sits against the headboard and tries to think about this question.
How is he?
He is not numb anymore, he knows where he is, what day it is, the name of the prime minister, his mother's name, his own name. All the basics.
He isn’t feeling any pain. It is new. He realizes now that he isn’t feeling pain since he woke up and listened to Ilya’s heart beating.
He feels… relieved. Ilya is alive, he is here, with him, and he loves him and he loves him back.
And Ilya can’t play anymore, but he still has hockey in his life.
Shane doesn’t.
That is…
“Weird.”
His mother smiles at his whisper. Speaking is still hard, difficult, something he needs to think hard about how to do, but he is putting some effort into that, it is important for the people who love him that he can talk.
Why isn’t it important for him?
There is something he still can’t talk about and it is what made it feel meaningless.
“Ilya?”
“I forced him to get some rest, he was here all night waiting for you to wake up. He slept just one hour ago, we can let him rest a little more, don’t you think?”
Shane nods his head and hugs his legs, resting his chin on his knees.
“He really is special, you know?” Shane smiles listening to how proud she is. “I’m happy for both of you, for you to find each other and get together with everything it means.”
It means everything.
“He is making plans.” her mom continues “He is looking for a house in the city, he has been asking me and your dad about a lot of things you like. He tells us about how you liked his apartment in Boston and how architecture is relevant to you. It’s cute how he wants to please you. He wants you to live with him.”
Shane shakes his head, tears running down his face.
“What’s wrong, son? I thought you wanted it.” he nods intensely and his mother comes to his side, her fingers running his hair. “You deserve it, you know? You both deserve it.”
“Sorry.” it’s more like a sob than a word.
“Shane, listen to me.” she forces his head up so he is looking at her “You. Deserve. To be. Happy. And Ilya too. I understand you both thought for a long time that it wasn’t possible. I understand that Ilya figures it out because he has nothing more to lose. But I - and him and everybody who loves you - need you to realise it too. And you already give up too much, son, you don’t need to hold yourself anymore. We need you to leave everything that you think is wrong about it and just accept that you can - you should, you must - to be happy. With the man you choose to love.”
She wipes his tears and gets herself together.
“We need a plan, ok?” she kept going “I know you deal better step by step.” she sighs, looking at him “First, you need to be sure about it, about if it is what you want.”
He nods again, desperate to make her know that it’s not the problem. He wants Ilya, he wants to live with Ilya, he wants to be happy with Ilya.
But…
“Ok, so the next step is you decide what you want for you.” he looks at her, confused. “Because Ilya knows what he wants: he wants to live with you, he wants to work with hockey, he wants to get Canadian citizenship and he wants to buy a new car. He is pretty sure about what to do now that he is back and has you with him, but he keeps talking about it like he needs us to tell him that it is ok, that he is doing good.”
She pauses and looks sad for a moment.
“I ask myself if this boy had someone on his side to support him after his mother died. I remember him with his dad when he got his first contract with Boston. It was at the same time you got yours with Montreal.” she smiles “Sometimes I just feel stupid to not realise your romance before.”
He makes a disdainful sound.
“Yes, well, I remember his father and he looked… hard on him. They were always serious and tense and I thought it was about the anticipation to get him drafted, but now I can’t stop thinking if it was just their relationship, something hard and heavy." She looks at his son, sweetly, “He is mourning for his father, of course, he cared about him, but sometimes it looks more like relief and it’s sad.”
She takes his hands on hers. “He cares about you and you are better with him and he is happier with you. You just need to… know what you want.”
“Ilya.” he is sure and puts effort to get her to understand it.
“Yes, but what do you want? For yourself. Because Ilya will be at your side at all cost, but you are more than just his partner and I know you want more. The question is what more.”
“Ilya.” he repeats, because it’s the only thing he can say for now.
Ilya is taking ice cream on the sofa, and Shane hears his mother offering more and the smile on Ilya’s face is just irresistible. He takes his face in his hands and kisses him. Ilya laughs against his lips and then licks the ice cream from his face.
“I want to play hockey.” he says, surprising himself.
“Ok, get our gear, I wait for you on the ice.”
Shane shakes his head and Ilya looks at him confused.
“What, sweetheart?”
“I want to play hockey.” he repeats, the words hard to say this time, the idea setting deeply on his chest.
He wants to play hockey.
“Do you mean… in Montreal?” his mom asks, getting closer. “You mean, come back to play as a professional?”
He nods, but then shakes his head, taking Ilya’s hand on his.
“ Ottawa. Together.”
“Moya lyubov…” Ilya looks so sad Shane wants to cry “I can’t play anymore.”
“I think…” David says, uncertain “Do you mean at the same team, Shane? Like, Ilya as a couch advisor and you as a player?”
“Together.” Shane nods.
Travelling together, sleeping together, working together, living together.
His dream would be to play with Ilya, in the ice, but if that is not possible anymore, they could be the nearest possible.
Ilya looks at Yuna, his desire clear on his face.
“Yes, we can do that. I’m going to call Farah, see if she still wants to manage you, or we can look for someone else. If you both are coming out, it’s easy to deal with the implications of your retirement.”
Ilya can see Shane losing it, his face going blank, pale, his breath taking.
“Easy, my love. It’s ok. You are safe.” he holds Shane’s face in his hands and breathes with him, seeing the panic growing “Your parents are here, your boyfriend is here. At the cottage, your favorite place. Just us, nobody else. You are safe.”
Shane was crying and trembling. For a moment, he really thought that he knew what he wanted. For some glorious moment, everything looked like it’s going to be better, it’s going to be… normal again.
“Shane, listen to me.” Ilya holds his eyes on his “If you don’t want to come out, it’s ok.” Of course Ilya understands the real problem even before he did. Shane can see how difficult it is for him to say that. It’s not ok, Ilya wants it, he wants to be with him as Shane wants to.
He wants to show it for the world.
“I can wait, my love. I can wait all my life for you. I’m not going anywhere anymore.” Shane nods, trying to catch his breath “But.” he looks serious “But I need you to know that there is no reason to not tell the whole world that I love you. There is no reason to not kiss you here or in a restaurant or when you win the next Stanley Cup, like Scott Hunter did with his boyfriend.” he kisses Shane’s hands “And I want it.”
And then everything makes sense.
“I want to talk.” Finally, Shane really wants this.
Ilya is acting weird, he is nervous. Shane enlaces their fingers during dinner.
“We are going to the city tonight.” her mother announces.
“We need to check the house and take some more clothes.” his father says “And we are paying a visit to the Pikes tomorrow, to invite them.”
“So Pike is not going to die when he sees me.”
“Kissing me.” Shane completes and Ilya kisses him just because he can.
He is talking more, in general. His voice is not husky anymore, but it’s still low, weak. He still needs to think to do so most of the time, not so naturally as it is supposed to be. But he is getting better.
He wants to get better.
Ilya helps his mom with the dishes and Shane helps his father to get the luggage in the car. They say goodbyes and come back to the house, but Ilya guides him through the room, to the garden. And Shane finally sees why he was acting weird.
There are a thousand little candles flouting on the lake.
It’s so beautiful. The night is warm, the waters are calm, the sky is dark blue with a huge moon. It’s perfect.
Ilya stops at the deck and takes his hands on his. He is nervous.
“I wish I had a ring.” it’s the first thing he says, his smile is small and he is trembling slightly “But that is not important.” he laughter, nervous, beginning again “Shane, moya lyubov.” he sighs “I thought for so long about what I want to say to you in this moment and now I can’t remember the words in english.” he take a deep breath and smile “I love you, you know that. I want to live, I fight for life, because I love you. I want to be alive so I can live with you.”
“When I thought you were dead, I just didn’t want to live anymore.” Shane whispered against Ilya’s lips.
“I know. That scares me, but, at the same time, I know I would feel the same.” he looks at Shane seriously and sad “Sometimes I think about my mom. About why she did it. Sometimes I think I can understand her and that scaries me, how I… how I can be like her.” he closes his eyes and Shane holds him against his body “But I think I can be better for you.”
“Me too.” Shane sighs “I want to be better for you. I think we can be better together.”
Ilya nods.
“Marry me.” he says, and it’s easy.
“You stole my words, Hollander.” Ilya can’t stop smiling “It’s not fair. I set romantic night to ask you that.”
“Marry me, Ilya Rozanov.” Shane repeats “Give me your name, give me yourself.”
“Of course, my love.” Ilya hugs him and Shane feels his tears on his skin. “I already am yours.”
Ilya looks into his eyes, tears running down his face.
“Is that what you want? To be together, forever?”
“Yes, I do.”
And that is the most important thing he could say in his life.
It is important.
It is the most important thing he did in his entire life.
They are in his living room in the Cottage. Hayden, Jackie, Rose and Svletana are sitting on the sofa, his mother and his father are on armchairs side by side, turned towards them. Shane and Ilya are sitting on the floor, facing each other, holding hands. They are invited for Shane to be here for him because he wants them to listen to it first, to hear from him, in his words, what he wants to say.
They all had drinks and snacks and chatted for a long time, getting to know each other better, getting comfortable. Then, Shane got quiet. Totally quiet, his eyes fixed on the floor. Ilya noticed and sat with him, just holding his hands in comfort and silence.
Then he started to talk.
“I remember the first time I saw you. It was on footage, some video about new hockey players from Europe that could come to the NHL soon.” he smiles “I thought you were cocky, but beautiful.”
Ilya smiles at him.
“I remember the first time we talked. I don’t remember the words, but you introduced yourself to me.”
Shane's fingers caress Ilya’s.
“I remember all our firsts. The first time we touched, the first time I saw you naked, the first time we kissed, the first time we played against each other. The first time I win a Stanley Cup.”
“And the first time I won the Stanley Cup. And our way to celebrate in Vegas.” Ilya said, Shane blushing.
But then he pauses.
“The first time I leave you.”
Ilya didn’t say anything, just held his hands.
“I had time to remember all our lasts too.” Shane said, slowly “The last time we saw each other was in that hotel room in Tampa, the way you touch me for the last time after All Stars, the last time we played together. The last time I listened to your voice you said ‘Good night, Shane’ and, ironically, that was the mostly beautiful good bye we ever had.”
The silence in the room was dense.
“When it got worse, after you died.” he took a deep breath “I had visions of you dead. Frozen, under the ice, your dead eyes looking at me. At first, I just ignored it, I told myself that it wasn’t real. But it wasn’t really true, the fact was that it was real, you were dead. You were dead, under the ice, somewhere so far away from me.” He could feel the tears running down his face “At first, I just turned and lived my life. No. I kind of… keep going, not really living. But then the nightmares come. I dreamed about you dead, pale, frozen, your eyes…” he sobs “And I leave you. I just turn my back to you and leave. Over and over and over again. Everyday. And I wake up crying and feeling that I was frozen dead, the cold killing me from inside, wishing I was under the ice with you.”
“Shane…” Ilya was crying too, but he didn’t say anything more.
“This should be a love story, you know. You and me, rivals to lovers. Just some light drama and a happy ending.” he smiled, but it was weak “I tried so hard not to love you and when I realised I already fell for you it hit me so hard that I lost myself.”
He sobs and Ilya kisses his hands.
“I had a plan, you know, after Tampa. I was thinking about inviting you to come here, to spend the summer break with me. Just us. And just… relax. Maybe, maybe, we could be open for the first time, telling each other what we really think and feel, freely, you know?”
Ilya nods, like he could agree with this plan, even if this was just a past dream now.
“I thought just about… easy things, maybe being openly friends, doing something together publicly, in a way it was not so weird if someone saw us, but coming out wasn’t something I saw as possible.” he pauses “And then it would never be, because you were dead.”
“And you couldn’t mourn.”
That was it. That was the point. That was why he couldn’t deal with… everything.
The love of his life was dead and he couldn’t mourn.
He curled in himself, hugging his body as he is in physical pain, a strangled sound leaving his throat, sobbing and trembling, and Ilya hugged him, pulling him in his lap, holding him like he could break definitively if he didn't.
“YA zdes', moya lyubov'. YA zdes' s toboy. YA nikogda tebya ne ostavlyu, nikogda bol'she.” He mumbled, unaware of what he was saying. “YA lyublyu tebya. YA lyublyu tebya ochen' sil'no. YA ne ostavlyu tebya. YA nikogda ne ostavlyu tebya, moya lyubov'.” (I'm here, my love. I'm here with you. I'll never leave you, never again.” He mumbled, unaware of what he was saying. “I love you. I love you so much. I'll never leave you. I'll never leave you, my love.) he kisses his hair, his face, his shoulders, everywhere he could reach.
Shane rests his forehead on his and just breathes the same air that leaves Ilya’s lungs.
“I want to tell everybody, all the world, how much I love you.” and Ilya nods, agreeing.
They held a press conference. They had a lot of news to share.
The first information was that Ilya Rozanov was alive and back in the NHL as coach advisor at Ottawa Centaurs.
The second was that Shane Hollander was out of retirement to play as center in Ottawa Centaurs.
The third was that they was starting Irina Foundation as a hockey summer camp, focused on diversity and inclusion of the LGBT+ and neurodivergent community, and the foundation will raise money and awareness for organizations that provide support, counseling, and assistance for people who are suffering from depression and other mental illnesses that can lead to suicide. Ilya shared his mom’s case and talked about depression and loneliness. Shane shared his own case and talked about grief, openly telling how Ilya’s death affected him psychologically.
Finally, they announce their engagement. Together, they talk about being in a relationship for the last ten years and the plans to get married next summer.
They tell their love story.