forever to go

Montreal lost their game in Washington and Shane was pissed about it. Specially because he saw that Ilya's team had won theirs at home. He didn't think to check his phone until he was on the bus, heading back to the team's hotel. He noticed he didn't have any text notifications and pulled up his message thread with Lily. The last message was from that morning, a picture of a huge breakfast order from McDonald's. Shane frowned before he started typing.

Jane: How come you're not talking about your hat trick?

"Whoa," J.J. said. "The Centaurs' plane is missing."

Shane turned to where J.J. was sitting across the aisle, feeling his entire body go cold. "What?"

The bus fell eerily quiet at J.J.'s next words. "Their plane is missing. It fell from air control's radars 30 minutes ago. It doesn't say much. The story's just breaking."

Shane's world tilted, off-axis.

Ilya.

"Shane, are you okay?" Hayden asked, touching his arm.

"Ilya—"

"Fuck," Hayden curses. "Fuck. I'm calling Jackie. She might know something."

Shane thought he nodded but he was sure his body stopped obeying him. His heart was beating faster than it did when he was about to score, but the coldness that gripped his insides was awfully unfamiliar. He had never felt anything like it before. His body felt numb and the hushed whispers in the bus told Shane he was not controlling his reaction to this news.

He looked back at his phone on his hand. He had Instagram notifications that he couldn't be bothered to look at when his world was crumbling underneath his feet.

Shane placed both arms on the headrest in front of him and leaned forward, keeping his eyes on the floor, his breathing coming out unevenly.

Ilya's plane was missing. It was not down. No one knew what had happened to them yet. Shane didn't need to think the worst just yet.

Except.

Except a missing plane in the US meant something much worse than Shane could even imagine. The idea of Ilya and his team being taken against their will and then their plane crashed somewhere politically important… Shane's stomach twisted. He felt the bile rise at the back of his throat, but he swallowed in an attempt to stop the tears from falling.

Except.

Except Shane remembered ten years ago when an entire team died in a plane crash in Russia. He had seen the news and his heart had beaten double time until he confirmed Ilya had been firmly in Boston at the time.

Ilya, where are you?

Somewhere to his right, Hayden talked on the phone loudly. He sounded desperate as he asked more and more questions Shane could not parse the meaning of. The bus came to a stop and everyone started filing out of the bus in somber silence.

Hayden hung up and turned to Shane.

"Shane?"

But Shane's ears were ringing and his heart had stopped beating properly and his hands were sweating and tears were falling from his eyes and onto his pants as Shane's chest tried to get a breath in.

Seconds stretched into minutes and all Shane's brain could make up was Ilya's plane is missing, Ilya's plane is missing, Ilya's plane—

"Hey, hey, hey, Shane. Shane," Hayden's voice was soft but firm, trying to bring him out of his head but Shane was— Ilya was—

Ilya could not be—

They were going to have dogs and kids and they were going to retire together after they got tired of winning so many cups. They were going to go to Ibiza. They were going to go get married one day. Ilya promised him: the dock, the candles, the lake, the whole proposal. They had all of their lives together.

They had all of their lives together. Nobody told him how short that eternity could be.

Shane heard something like an animal cry. Belatedly, he realized that sound had come from his own throat.

He felt Hayden's hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles as he mumbled reassurances but Shane's mind could not lock into any of them. Black spots danced in his vision, so he closed his eyes and tried his best to get his breathing back into a normal rhythm but it felt like a Herculean task when Ilya was—

Ilya. Ilya. Ilya. Where are you Ilya?

At some point, Shane's phone rang but he could not get it. Hayden took the phone from where Shane was clutching it tight in his left hand. Distractedly, he realized Hayden had somehow taken the call and was currently talking to someone. He thought he heard his mother's name, then Hayden's voice cut through the fog.

"Shane, it's your mom. Can you talk to her?"

He nodded but didn't make a move.

After a moment, Hayden said, "Yuna, you're on speaker. We're still in the bus."

"Shane," her voice was firm, steady, and profoundly sad. "Shane, are you listening?"

Shane nodded again, then, somehow, he found his voice. "Yeah, I'm here."

"Oh, Shane," she sniffled. Shane did not like her tone a bit. "Honey, you're going to be okay."

"Ilya—" but Shane can't make himself say it. He can't even put it into thoughts yet.

"There are no updates yet. Shane, I need you to listen to me, okay? His plane is missing, we don't know… we don't really know. They could have landed somewhere."

Shane almost laughed at that. Well, they certainly landed somewhere. Whether they crashed or not was yet to be seen.

His mother said a few more words before she promised to keep Shane updated, then she hung up. Hayden was still holding Shane's phone when Shane finally looked up. He had the saddest frown Shane had ever seen on him.

"I can't— I can't see anyone, Hayd. I need… I need… I don't fucking know." His last words were lost in a sob as he crumbled. Hayden caught him in a tight hug and didn't let go of Shane until he had cried long enough to leave a wet patch on his sweater.

The minutes stretched into hours and it all blurred together for a bit: the looks he got from the hotel staff, the elevator ride to his room, Hayden dropping their bags in the room as they got in, falling face first onto the bed.

He could almost feel the ghost of Ilya's hands on his arms, on his back, on his face, the last time they had been together a couple of days ago. If Shane had known, he would have stayed with him. He wouldn't have let him board the plane. He would have…

Hayden's phone pinged loudly in the silence of the room with an incoming message. Shane checked his own phone again and glanced at the many notifications waiting for him. Rose had texted asking if he was okay, but Shane's eyes focused on the Instagram notifications he had.

Messages. From Ilya.

His hands trembled as he opened them.

Shane.

I love you. Always. Maybe from the first time I saw you.

Shane's vision blurred with tears as he read the next message.

I am thinking only about you right now. A million memories. Thank you for those.

Ilya was thinking of him? As his plane went down? God, Shane could not—

Whatever happens, I am with you. Safe in your heart. I believe it.

"Fuck," he sobbed. "Fuck, Ilya."

He reread the messages until he could not longer see straight. Ilya was… Ilya was saying goodbye. He knew that the plane was going down and had enough time to write Shane, to tell Shane he loved him from the first time he saw him. His last thoughts were of Shane and—

His last thoughts.

Ilya was—

No.

He could not be. Not Ilya.

Shane's mind went to their last night together, to the way their bodies fit together as they fucked, Ilya's hand on his face guiding him into a languid kiss as he thrust deeper. Shane had felt they were not close enough then. He wanted to climb into Ilya's ribs and live wrapped around his heart, the only place that felt like home.

He would never get another chance to tell Ilya how much he loved him, how much Ilya meant to Shane, how much Shane dreaded the weeks they spent apart.

Whatever happens, I am with you. Safe in your heart. I believe it.

"Fuck you," he sobbed. "Fuck you, Ilya, you can't— This is not how it was supposed to go, you fucking asshole, I—"

Shane felt Hayden's eyes on him, but he could not possibly care. Not when all Shane had left were four messages. Ilya's last words. For him.

He read the message a third time. I am with you. Safe in your heart.

But Ilya was not safe. He was fucking gone. As far as Shane knew, his plane was a heap of fire and ash somewhere in the middle of the US.

Who was Ilya's next of kin? The brother he never spoke to? Would Shane be allowed to say goodbye? Would Ilya be buried in Russia in a place where Shane could no longer reach him? Ilya was already unreachable to Shane. The distance between Shane and Ilya felt insurmountable. Shane didn't know where Ilya was and it was killing him.

As grief threatened to swallow him whole, anger flared through Shane's body. They had many good reasons to keep their relationship a secret, but they all seemed unimportant now.

Shane didn't know how long he cried, burying his face into the pillows to muffle his screams, but he felt Hayden sit down on the end of the bed and put a hand on his calf reassuringly.

"Shane—"

Shane's phone beeped with a message just as Hayden's phone rang. Shane ignored his own phone and vaguely listened to Hayden. He sounded relieved but worried. Shane could not make out the words he was saying, his mind was not right for that.

A whole minute passed before Hayden spoke up again. "Shane."

Shane didn't move.

"They found the plane." Shane's stomach tightened. "Emergency landing in God-Knows-Where, Pennsylvania."

Emergency landing. Not a crash. Not a crash. Not a crash.

"Ilya?" his voice came out raw, mostly distorted by the pillow still under his face.

"No casualties reported. Shane, he's okay. You're going to be okay."

But Shane could not believe that until he saw Ilya again. He would not rest until Ilya's warm arms were wrapped around him again.

He turned on his side to look at Hayden. "What does the news say?"

"Not much. Your mom was on the phone with someone else, couldn't talk much. Said she'd call when she had more info." He took a deep breath before continuing. "God, I gotta call Jackie. I freaked out on her and she didn't know anything about it yet. Will you be okay for a sec?"

Shane nodded absentmindedly and stared at his phone as Hayden got out of the room. He saw a message from his mother a few minutes ago telling him the plane had landed safely somewhere in Pennsylvania, but no more details than that. He opened Lily's thread and was thinking of calling just to listen to Ilya's voicemail message when the three dots appeared on the screen. Shane's hands trembled as he typed.

Jane: Oh my god

Jane: Are you okay?

Just as he finished typing, he got a message from Ilya. Sorry about the Instagram messages. Call me.

Shane sat up quickly as he clicked on the call icon.

"Sweetheart—"

You're alive.

Ilya's voice was the thing that made him break down again.

"Ilya. Jesus. Are you okay?" Shane's voice trembled on that last word.

"Yes. Fine." Ilya coughed once, then cleared his throat.

"Where are you? What's going on?"

"We're in… I don't know. Somewhere. Pennsylvania, apparently." Shane heard a few steps in the background as if Ilya was looking for a more private space to talk to him. "Shane—"

"Fuck, Ilya, I love you," he sobbed.

On the other side of the line, Ilya sniffled as well. "Moy lyubov, I am so sorry."

Shane covered his mouth with his hand as more tears welled up in his eyes. He sobbed as Ilya calmly mumbled on the other side of the line. "I'm sorry, I should not have scared you with those texts. I'm okay. Still here."

"You're not here," he whimpered. "You're not fucking here and I miss you and I need to see you. Can we FaceTime?"

"I wish," he said, and he sounded like he meant it. "I think I need to go to hospital now."

Shane's heart froze. "What? Why? What happened?"

"No, not hospital. There is ambulance to check us out. We're still on the road we landed."

"Ilya—"

"I am fine, Shane. My side of the plane didn't even catch on fire."

"Ilya," he repeated, his chest felt like it would collapse in on itself. Ilya's plane had been on fire. Ilya could have died and Shane would have never heard his voice again, never felt Ilya's hands on him again, and, worst of all, no one would have known what Ilya meant to him until it was too late, until they could no longer tell the world how happy they were together.

"Shane."

A decision was made before Shane could put it into proper words. "Tell me where you are."

Sensing Shane meant business, Ilya seemed to take the phone from his ear because he heard a muffled, "Bood, where the hell are we?"

Shane didn't hear the response, but after some more mumbling and ruffling of clothes, Ilya's voice came back on the phone. "Shane, I have to go. I will text you hotel address. We are not leaving tonight."

"Okay."

"Will you be okay?" Ilya asked.

"No," he said, and he meant it. He would not be okay until he had Ilya in his arms again.

"Shane," Ilya started. "I'm—"

"Don't say you're fine, Ilya. I'm not going to rest until I see you again."

He could hear Ilya's soft smile in his next words, "will you come find me?"

"Yes."

"We're in the middle of fucking nowhere."

"I don't care."

"Okay," Ilya said. His voice was tiny on the other side of the phone. "I'll text you." In Russian, he added, "I love you."

"I love you," Shane echoed in Russian.

"Talk to you later," said Ilya, but he didn't hang up just yet.

Shane listened to the voices in the background and wondered what Ilya was doing. He heard his breathing, calm and even over the line and he swallowed a sob. "I love you," he said again, in English this time.

"I love you too," replied Ilya. "I have to go."

"Yeah, yeah, I should— Fuck, I need to find a car."

"Maybe you should not drive like this," Ilya said. "It's dangerous."

"Well, I'm not getting on a plane when you don't even know where the fuck you are."

"Stay with your team."

"No."

"Shane, come on." Shane could hear the commotion around Ilya as he said, "Have to go. Don't do anything stupid."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Shane watched his phone as Ilya hung up the only lifeline he had. He could not take deep breaths, but it was the least of his concerns. He got up and went to the bathroom, splashed his face with cold water and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, and he looked pale, as if his life had been drained out of him in the span of an hour.

In a way, Shane guessed his life had been drained the minute J.J. announced Ilya's plane was missing.

"Fuck this," Shane said to his mirror self. He checked his phone when it vibrated against the counter.

Lily: Hampton Inn. 42 N Old Trail. Room 310.

Shane typed the address on Maps and saw it was a little over 3 hours from his hotel.

He grabbed a sweater and his wallet and got out of the door without telling Hayden where he was going.

An hour and a bunch of paperwork later found Shane on the road up North, driving just below the speed limit down the highway that would take him to Ilya. His phone started ringing as he entered Maryland.

After the fourth consecutive call, he picked up and put the phone on speaker.

"Thank God, Shane," Hayden said, "where the fuck are you?"

Shane looked at the road up ahead and wondered if he could get away with saying he was out having a walk. He sighed before saying, "Maryland, apparently."

"What—"

"I'm going to see Ilya," he said plainly.

"Shane—"

"I don't care, Hayden. I know we're supposed to be on the road in the morning, that we have a game in two days. I know, okay?"

"How the fuck are you going to explain all of this to—?"

"Hayden, I know it's hard to believe, but I'm not really thinking about hockey right now."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"What should I say? If someone asks about you?"

Shane thought about it for a moment. What could Hayden say that would not sound fake? He knew the truth would give more than one person an apoplexy. In the end, Shane just said, "just say I'm out. I'll… I'll talk to everyone afterwards."

"Drive safe," Hayden said, "I mean it, Shane."

"I will."

They said their goodbyes and Shane hung up. He noticed he had a message from his mother asking if he needed anything. Shane could not be bothered to find a place to stop the car to answer.

Shane soon noticed that Pennsylvania was probably more trees than people.

The long, winding roads were lined with trees that looked older than the Earth itself. The eerie silence in the car was only occasionally interrupted by Shane's sobs as he thought of Ilya's saying goodbye. He was full on crying when his phone rang again.

Shane, knowing he should not be driving while he could not see anything, much less answer a phone call, let it go to voicemail. A second later, his phone pinged with an incoming message.

A few miles later, it pinged again twice. Shane spotted a Burger King sign that said there was a restaurant in 2 miles. Shane pressed his foot down on the gas and drove as fast as he could, only slowing down when the restaurant was in sight. He took the next exit and drove to the farthest spot on their parking lot before checking his messages.

Mom: Hayden told me you went to see Ilya?

Mom: Shane, he's in PENNSYLVANIA

Mom: please be safe

He texted a quick update to his mother and realized for the first time how hungry he was. He glanced at the restaurant in front of him, with most of its lights out, and he yearned for a burger. Instead, he checked the map again and saw he was 20 minutes out. He could grab something to eat once he was with Ilya.

With a last glance in the direction of the restaurant, he pulled out of the parking lot and got back on the road.

Shane's thumb was setting an anxious rhythm on the wheel when he stopped in front of the hotel. He parked as close to the entrance as he could get and went inside without bothering to hide his face. He took the stairs because he did not have the patience to wait for an elevator. Shane stood in front of room 310 with his hand raised but could not knock. He was about to do something when Ilya opened the door with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"Ilya…"

Then Shane fell on his knees.

Or he would have if Ilya hadn't caught him just in time.

"Hey, hey, hey," Ilya said, holding on to him, "Is okay, sweetheart. I'm here."

Shane didn't realize he was crying until he felt Ilya's hand wipe his cheek before leaning down to kiss him. Shane did his best to get to an upright position as his knees buckled with the force of Ilya's kiss. They kissed desperately, grabbing fists full of each other's clothes and hair, as if neither had been breathing while the other was apart. Shane gently pushed Ilya inside his room, then slammed the door behind him to give them some privacy.

"Shane…" Ilya's words came out unevenly, as if he could not believe Shane was there in the flesh.

"Fuck, Ilya, that was—"

"Not good."

"—unbearable."

Ilya smiled against his lips, "I missed you."

"I thought you were fucking dead." Shane's words came down crashing around them and Ilya's smile disappeared. For the first time, Shane noticed the butterfly bandage on Ilya's eyebrow; Shane would have to ask about injuries later. All that mattered now was that Ilya was here. Alive.

"I thought… they said the plane was missing. I thought you crashed, Ilya, I can't— I can't lose you."

“Shane,” Ilya said, “it is okay. I am okay. Is over.”

Shane put his head on Ilya's shoulder as Ilya brought them closer in a hug. They stayed like that for a long time, savoring the intimate moment. Ilya smelled of expensive shower gel and cigarette smoke; Shane thought he had to allow that cigarette after the particularly harrowing ordeal Ilya had just gone through.

"Was scary," Ilya confessed. "Being up there when engine failed."

He placed a hand directly over Ilya's heart, feeling his heartbeat on his fingertips. Shane didn't think there had ever been a feeling as surreal as feeling Ilya's heartbeat when he thought—

"God, I just keep thinking—"

"I know," Ilya interrupted before Shane could say the words. "But I'm here. I'm fine. You are with me. There's no place I'd rather be."

They kissed again, slower this time, intentionally. Shane buried his hands in Ilya's curls and pressed his body against the love of his life, trying to tell Ilya with his body what he could not say out loud.

I'm so relieved. For a moment, I thought I'd never have this again, that I'd never touch you again. My heart has not been beating the same since I heard about the plane. You are everything to me and I could not bear to lose you.

Instead, he mumbled against Ilya's lips. "I love you, marry me."

"What?" Ilya asked, coming up for air.

"Marry me. I'm serious. We’ve wasted so much time. There’s nothing in my life that matters to me more than you, Ilya."

Ilya pressed his lips together and a single tear ran down his left cheek. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, Hollander, I'm saying yes."

They kissed, and Ilya said, "yes." They kissed again and he added, "yes, I will marry you. Tomorrow if you want."

And God, wasn't that a tempting offer. To elope somewhere and get married immediately, tell the world they were together, that they had been together for a while, that they loved each other more than words could possibly say.

"I love you," Shane mumbled in Russian.

Ilya kissed him again. They were both half crying as they kissed, smiling into the kiss. It was the best kiss they had ever shared. Ilya was going to be his husband. For a moment that evening, Shane had been sure his whole life was over. Now, he felt as if it was just beginning.

As they kissed, Ilya walked Shane to the bed. He gently pushed him to sit down on the bed and then he kicked his shoes off. "Come on, Shane," he said as he took off his sweater, "I'm not gonna ask again."

"You haven't even asked once, asshole," Shane replied, but he followed Ilya's lead and took off his clothes just as fast as Ilya was stripping. When he was naked, he moved closer to the headboard, patting the bed beside him when Ilya was undressed as well.

Ilya pounced on him then, kissing Shane's mouth, his neck, his chest, grabbing onto him as if Shane could disappear from under his hands. Shane felt the too familiar pang of pain in his chest at the idea of Ilya being gone and he put his hand directly on top of Ilya's heart. Skin to skin. Feeling Ilya warm and pliant and fucking alive under his fingertips.

Shane looked up at Ilya's face and saw nothing but complete devotion. It hurt to even contemplate the idea of never having this again. He didn't think he'd ever felt as in love with Ilya as he was in that moment. They kissed again and embraced each other tightly, rutting their hips against each other languidly, enjoying every second of their lovemaking. Shane was not in a rush, in fact, he wanted to take his sweet time devouring his soon-to-be-husband.

He pulled back and leaned his forehead against Ilya, panting when their cocks brushed against each other again. It was slowly driving Shane insane. He wanted to drag it out, even as his orgasm built at the pit of his stomach, he wanted to make it last. Shane kept his hand on Ilya's chest as he said, "Ilya, I'm gonna—"

"Yes, me too. But we have time, yes? The rest of our lives. Together. Forever to go."

And what could Shane possibly say to that? He sneaked his right hand between them and held it under Ilya's mouth until the man spat on it. Shane wrapped his hand about both of their cocks and tugged, drawing a long moan out of Ilya's mouth.

Shane scooted closer to Ilya, keeping his left hand on Ilya's chest, feeling Ilya's heartbeat pick up with the movements of Shane's hand.

"Shane…" Ilya moaned, sliding one of his hands down his thigh and pulling up, securing Shane's leg around the small of his back.

He was so close, so, so close. He kissed Ilya's face wherever he could reach him as he worked them to completion. Shane shivered when Ilya's fingers played with his hole, sending a jolt of electricity to his core. He only needed to stroke his dick once, twice more and he was coming.

Shane came with Ilya's name on his lips, and he knew it was the loudest he had ever dared to be while on the road. But Shane was tired of hiding, tired of lying, tired of not holding his boyfriend's —his fiance's— hand in public.

He kept stroking both of them, his hand gliding easily thanks to his own come. Ilya's hands gripped him tighter as he fucked into Shane's fist vigorously. Then he was coming with a grunted God, Shane.

Shane kissed Ilya, something deep and intense but not rushed until his ribs felt tight with the feelings he had for Ilya. Shane felt like he was going to burst at the seams because he was so happy.

Ilya pulled back slightly, enough to look into Shane's eyes. "You want shower together?"

Truth be told, Shane didn't want to move, not yet, just a moment longer in Ilya's arms before he had to come back to the real world. Shane shook his head.

"Just… hold me," Shane said, earnest and raw.

Ilya didn't hesitate, he wrapped his arms around Shane and put his chin on top of Shane's head. "I'm with you, my love," he said in Russian, "I'm not going anywhere."

They stayed like that until Shane's belly roared with hunger, and Ilya laughed bright as the sun.

"I don't think there's anywhere that delivers this late, moy lyubov," he teased. "But there's snack machine in the reception. I could get you snack."

Shane wrinkled his nose but Ilya didn't saw. "I'll just sleep. Wake me up when you need to go. I have to get to an airport too."

Ilya sighed contentedly and relaxed next to Shane, his arms still around Shane. Shane fell asleep with the soothing cadence of Ilya's heart beating against his ear.

It was the best sleep he had in years.

Shane woke up sweating, cold and anxious. He felt around the bed but it was empty and cold next to him. His heart raced.

Ilya?

Because Shane had driven from Washington to fucking Pennsylvania with nothing but the clothes of his back, his phone, and his wallet to see Ilya after the emergency landing. They had fallen asleep together, Shane knew that. Why would Ilya leave without waking him up?

Shane had driven to Pennsylvania the night before, right?

His heart was beating faster as he sat up. He didn't even remember the hotel room in Washington; everything had been a blur after he heard the news of Ilya's plane. Then, where was Hayden?

But no, that would mean—

Shane's stomach tightened with anxiety as the door to his room opened and Ilya walked in, his arms loaded with snacks from the machine in the lobby. Shane swallowed a sob at the sight.

"Good morning," Ilya said, brightening up at the sight of him.

"Fuck, Ilya, where were you?"

Ilya raised an eyebrow and threw a pointed look at the snacks on his arms. He walked closer to the bed and let go of the candy bars and chips on top of the bed. Then he reached inside the pocket of his hoodie and produced two Cokes.

"Sorry, no ginger ale." Shane's lip trembled. Ilya's face shifted in worry. "What's wrong?"

Shane reached his hand out and Ilya grabbed it, going down willingly when Shane pulled. Shane kissed him without caring about his own morning breath for the first time ever. Ilya had brushed his teeth before he went out because he tasted minty and fresh and Shane felt guilty about not brushing his teeth, so he pulled away and leaned his forehead against Ilya's.

"Fuck, Ilya, I got so scared for a minute there," Shane said.

"Why?" Ilya asked, kissing the side of his face.

Shane didn't want to voice his own thought process, so he just said, "I just was."

"Hmm," Ilya hummed kissing his neck. "Would a blowjob make you feel better?"

Shane doubted that it would, but his dick got interested in Ilya's hand wandering down his chest to the blankets pooling at his waist. By the time Ilya's hand cupped him, Shane was already half hard.

Ilya kissed his shoulder, nipping and sucking little marks up to his neck. Shane didn't feel like telling him to stop, not when Ilya's hand lazily stroked him under the sheets. Yesterday, he would have warned Ilya against leaving mark on his skin. Today, something as trivial as a hickey did not make his top three concerns.

They kissed again, a feverish, desperate thing that made Shane tremble in anticipation. This was familiar: the feeling of Ilya's hands on his body, the taste of his lips, the heat that pooled in his belly when his boyfriend —his fiance!— touched him. Ilya's expert touch was enough to get him out of his head.

Ilya gently pushed him until he was lying down on his back and started kissing his way down Shane's chest, down his stomach, until he swallowed his hard cock. Shane gasped at the sight of his soon-to-be-husband sucking his dick. It was easy to let go of the remnants of his anxious dream with Ilya's mouth on him. Ilya bobbed his head up and down, sucking as if his life depended on it, working Shane closer and closer to the edge with each swirl of his tongue.

"Ilya, I'm—" Shane was close, oh, so close, that he grabbed a fistful of Ilya's hair. The obscene moan that escaped Ilya's throat was enough to send Shane over the edge. He came down Ilya's throat with a groan, thrusting his hips up, but Ilya held him down and sucked and swallowed until Shane was a little too sensitive to form words. He tugged Ilya's curls to get him to stop.

When Ilya pulled back, he quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Good?"

"Fuck, Ilya," said Shane, throwing his head back on the pillow. He let his arms fall to the side and glanced up at Ilya as he came close to check on Shane.

"That good, huh?"

"Fuck you," he said, but there was no heat behind his words.

"You should eat something." Ilya sat up on the bed and picked some of the snacks he bought. "They had these weird vegan energy bars. Will this do until we can find proper breakfast?"

Shane felt the love he had for Ilya increase twofold. "It'll do."

"Good," he said, tossing the three bars in Shane's direction. "I'm going to shower now, okay?"

Shane glanced down at Ilya's pants and the very obvious erection he was sporting. "I could help you with that first."

Ilya smiled. "My bus is leaving in 30 minutes."

"So we have time," Shane said.

"Eat your breakfast. You can suck my dick when we're back in Ottawa."

Suddenly, everything that happened the previous day came crashing down on Shane: the accident, leaving his team to see Ilya, staying the night with Ilya when his team was next door.

"Fuck. I gotta— Fuck, Ilya, what the fuck did I do last night?"

Ilya frowned. "You came to see me."

"I didn't tell anyone where I went. I mean, I told Hayden and my mom but—"

"Your team doesn't know."

"No. I might get benched for this," Shane said with a grimace. They were in the middle of a road trip that would keep Shane from Ottawa for at least 5 more days. If he was allowed to play anyway. His team was headed to Detroit today for a game the following day. Could Shane drive there and be on time for practice? Perhaps not. He wasn't even sure how far from Detroit he was.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He would not freak out over this. There were bigger things to freak out about, he knew that now.

"Shane?" Ilya asked.

"It's okay, I'm okay. Just—"

Ilya grabbed his hand. Shane immediately felt himself relax at the contact —marginally, but it was still something.

"What do you need?" Ilya asked then.

"You. I always need you."

"Apart from that?" Shane could tell Ilya was smiling at him.

"To teleport back to my hotel room in Washington."

"Real things only." Ilya squeezed his hand. "Tell me what I can do."

A thought crossed Shane's mind. He opened his eyes. "Are we really gonna do this? Get married? Come out now?"

Ilya frowned. Shane could see the underlying hurt in his eyes. "Only if you're ready."

"I am. I promise I am. Maybe we should call Farah. Give her a heads up."

"Okay."

"I should call… I don't know, someone. Fuck. When can we get married?"

"Do you want me to look it up while you take a shower?"

"Yeah, no. Let's call Farah first."

Shane puts on one of Ilya's T-shirts and his pants ("Farah's only going to see your face," said Ilya. "Still. I don't feel comfortable calling Farah with my dick out." Ilya laughed at that), then he sent a prayer to a God he didn't really believe in that Farah would not kill them for calling at 8 in the morning.

She picked up on the second ring and her face appeared in front of Shane, slightly concerned. "Hi, Shane. How are you?"

"I've been better."

"I heard about Ilya's plane. Have you had any news?"

"Well—"

"Hi, Farah," said Ilya, flopping down next to Shane to fit in the tiny screen. "I'm alright."

"Oh," she frowned. "I thought you were in a road trip, Shane."

"I took a detour."

"I see."

After a moment of silence that Shane could not stand, Ilya spoke up. "We're coming out."

"Now?" Farah asked.

"Yes."

"I see."

Shane bit his lip nervously when Farah didn't say anything for almost a minute. "Well, say something, Farah."

"I'm thinking about the timing. It certainly makes a statement, I'll give you that."

"We're getting married," added Ilya.

"Congratulations!" Farah said immediately. Her face lit up then. "Oh, guys, this could be very good for your coming out."

"Yeah?" Shane wasn't so sure about it. "Isn't it a little too much?"

"Oh, it is. It definitely is. But if you come out as a married couple, the talk will be slightly different, I think. I can draft you a statement. It's going to be fine, guys."

Shane breathed in deeply, letting Farah's calm demeanor wash over him. They chatted a bit about when to post it, but Shane was partially checked out. They agreed to wait until Farah sent them the statement before doing anything.

When they hung up, Shane felt marginally better.

"I should call my parents," said Shane next. "After I take a shower, I guess."

"Can I tell them?" Ilya asked.

"You want to tell my parents?"

"Yes. They love me more, don't they?"

Shane gave him a playful shove. "Okay. You do that. I'll take a shower."

Ilya's smile brightened, as beautiful as the sun. He grabbed his phone and called Shane's mother. Shane was under the shower spray when he heard Yuna, we're getting married! being yelled at the phone. He shook his head at his mother raising her voice to congratulate them but he couldn't make out the words. Ilya asked for Shane's father and Shane felt the soft hum of joy in his skin at the words. He was getting married to the love of his life. This had to be the happiest he'd ever been.

Shane got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. As he went back into the room, he saw Ilya smiling into his phone as he typed.

"Everything okay?" Shane asked.

"I told my team," he said.

"What?"

Shane's heart beat faster. They were really doing this then. Fuck. He had to tell his team now. He had wanted to tell them in person, but if Ilya already told his teammates…

"What did you say?"

"Do you want to see?" Ilya offered his phone to Shane with a smirk. Shane's stomach tightened in anticipation.

"I don't know—"

"Is all good things, I promise."

Shane took the offered phone and saw messages coming in faster than he could keep track. He scrolled up and read Ilya's brief message I want you to meet my fiance.

Haas: what

Dykstra: you have a girlfriend???

Dillon: YOU ARE GETTING MARRIED?

Young: Roz has a girlfriend?

Haas: is this because we almost died?

Ilya: you'll meet him outside. Please wait by parking lot

Haas: him???

Barrett: holy shit, Roz, really?

Boodram: him?

Holmberg: HIM?

Haas: Roz come back here and explain yourself

Dykstra: Rozanov has a BOYFRIEND???

Dykstra: Rozanov has a SECRET boyfriend???

More messages kept coming in, all equally incredulous about the whole situation, but none of them seemed to be offended. At least not about Ilya having a boyfriend, it was more about Ilya dropping this news on them without explaining himself and disappearing. Shane looked up and saw a glint in Ilya's eyes that told Shane he was thoroughly enjoying the panic he had started.

"Maybe this was not the best way to come out to your team," Shane said, passing Ilya his phone.

"Why? Is direct. Now I take a quick shower and you eat your boring vegan energy bar, and then you meet my team."

"I've met them. On the ice."

"Well, now you meet them officially."

But something was nagging Shane. Something he didn't want to voice, but needed to be said. "Ilya."

"What?"

"What if they don't— I mean, I can't tell if they're being supportive or sarcastic about this and—"

"Shane," Ilya interrupted. "Is going to be fine."

"How do you know?"

"Ottawa is best team in the world," he said with a shrug.

Shane couldn't help himself. "I wouldn't know. I've never seen them in the playoffs."

"Oh, so you are the asshole," Ilya smiled. "I can't wait to tell everyone I'm marrying world's biggest asshole."

"Shut up."

Ilya gave him a quick kiss before saying, "I shower now. Team is going to show up here if I'm not in the parking lot in 15."

Ilya went to the bathroom and Shane listened as he got into the shower. He shook his head and started picking up his clothes to get dressed. Distractedly, he wondered how would his team take the news. It was one thing to come out as gay —his team knew he was gay and apart from some initial awkwardness, they had been supportive— but it was a completely different thing to come out as Ilya Rozanov's boyfriend —fiance!

He was tying his shoes when Ilya came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Ilya looked like a dream with his wet curls falling on his forehead and his broad chest littered with water droplets that slid down his stomach the way Shane wanted his own tongue to be busy right now.

Ilya caught him looking and smiled. "Like what you see?"

"Didn't know Pennsylvania came with such a nice view," replied Shane. Ilya's eyes darkened and Shane knew that if they didn't stop now, they'd be interrupted by Ilya's teammates knocking on the door. "Get dressed. We gotta go."

Shane was pleased by the way Ilya actually pouted at him, but Ilya did as he was told and got dressed quickly. Shane looked at him the whole time, hypnotized by the way his fiance managed to look like some kind of superstar even wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

"You should put on sweater, it's cold outside," said Ilya.

"Didn't bring any clothes last night," Shane reminded him.

"Wear one of mine. Is no big deal."

He threw one of his Ottawa hoodies at Shane, who caught it barely.

"I can't wear this!"

"Is just sweater, Hollander. Don't be an idiot."

"It's an Ottawa hoodie!"

"And? Your boyfriend plays for Ottawa team. Is this news to you?"

"Fuck you."

"Later."

Shane sighed and put on the sweatshirt with only mild grunting. When he looked at Ilya again, he had a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"What?"

"You look hot wearing my clothes." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "now everyone will know you're mine."

Heat pooled in Shane's stomach at the thought. Ilya's eyes darkened with desire and Shane wanted to follow through that thread wherever it took them. They had a few days to go until they could be together again, but Shane's mind was already wandering to Ilya's place in Ottawa and—

"We should go," said Ilya, checking his phone. "Team is threatening to come here if I'm not outside in 2 minutes."

He took a deep breath and steeled himself to leave the room. Ilya came closer and took his hand. "No matter what happens, we have each other, yes?"

Shane nodded. "I love you."

"I love you too."

The walk from Ilya's room to the parking lot was the longest 2 minutes of Shane's life, every step felt like moving in quicksand. As they went down the stairs, his anxiety hit new highs previously unknown to him. But Ilya squeezed his hand when they reached the first floor, stopping before opening the door.

"Ready?" Ilya asked.

Shane nodded and pushed the door open.

The parking lot was full of Ottawa players in several states of alertness. They all stopped what they were doing once they spotted Ilya. Someone dropped a cup of coffee when they spotted whose hand Ilya was currently holding.

"So," Ilya started, "this is my fiance, Shane."

Boodram is the first to speak up. "Holy shit."

Shane saw as Evan Dykstra —the one who dropped his coffee— glanced between them with a puzzled look. "Hollander?"

"Congratulations, man," said Troy Barrett, coming closer to Ilya to hug him. He seemed the most relaxed of the entire team.

Ilya let go of Shane's hand to hug Barrett briefly (and when did Barrett and Ilya become such good friends?), then Barrett extended a hand to Shane. "Nice to meet you. Officially."

Shane shook his hand, stunned.

"You knew?" someone asked. Shane thought he recognized Luca Haas.

"I suspected," said Barrett.

"What? Why?" Shane asked.

Ilya smiled at his team, then he made a show of looking at his empty wrist and said, "you have one minute and zero seconds to ask questions."

Luca Haas was the first to speak up. "When did this start?"

"2017," said Ilya.

Shane frowned but didn't comment on how they'd been somewhat together far longer than that. Barrett seemed taken aback at that.

"You've been together since 2017?" he asked.

"Officially," said Ilya.

Barrett's eyes opened wide. "Officially?"

Dykstra seemed to be counting with his fingers, then said, "wait a minute, you were in Boston in 2017."

"Yes."

"Does that mean you moved to Ottawa to be closer to Hollander?" Boodram asked. He seemed delighted to know the details of their relationship. Shane thought Ilya's team was taking it remarkably well.

"Yes," Ilya was clearly enjoying this as well. Shane could almost breathe normally again.

Someone, who Shane later recognized as Dillon, said, "holy shit, this is huge!"

Shane tensed at that, but Ilya took his hand and squeezed, comforting.

Dillon continued, "man, you had one hell of a reputation…"

"It's not untrue. I'm bisexual," Ilya clarified, "but I haven't been with anyone else for a long time."

More than one person cooed at that. Shane felt himself blush and looked down to hide his face, but he knew everyone had seen it by now.

Coach Wiebe cleared his throat. "Roz, you never… let him win, did you?"

All the whispers came to a stop then as everyone turned their eyes on them.

"No. Never. We will go down in history as best and second best hockey players of a generation and I'll be number one."

"I have more cups than you," said Shane.

"I'm bringing Ottawa to playoffs this year."

"I have 2 Conn Smythes."

"Me too," countered Ilya.

"I won rookie of the year," pushed Shane.

"I'm faster than you."

"That's not true."

"Huh, I see it clearly now," said Barrett.

"Yeah, man, this foreplay is insane," Haas shot back.

Shane felt his cheek heat up. A quick glance at Ilya let him know he was extremely pleased with the outcome of their banter in front of the team.

"Okay!" Ilya said. "Now I'll drive to airport with Shane, but would you please not tell anybody? We want to do official announcement."

Shane could feel the surprise making waves through Ilya's teammates.

"Oh my God, hard launch," fake whispered Haas.

"What?" Ilya said. Shane wanted to ask as well, but he had a feeling he would not like the answer.

"You know, when you announce your relationship on social media officially. Hard launch."

"There's a name for that?" Shane asked.

"English is stupid," added Ilya.

That got a laugh out of some of Ilya's teammates. Boodram broke formation and came closer to give Ilya a hug. Soon, they were surrounded by teammates shaking Shane's hand and welcoming him to the family. Shane's eyes prickled with tears, but he did his best to seem unaffected by the warm reception their relationship got from Ilya's team. There was teasing and good natured ribbing, but it felt good in a way that Shane did not expect. He could only hope his team would take it the same way.

Eventually, Coach Wiebe started herding his players into the bus until they were the only three people standing in the parking lot.

"You go directly to the airport, you hear me? No stops along the way," Wiebe warned.

"Of course," Ilya said with a mock salute.

After a moment of tense silence, Shane said, "I need you to know this is not going to affect Ilya's game—"

"Hollander," Wiebe interrupted, "it clearly hasn't stopped either of you from playing the way you do. I'm sorry that I implied otherwise. It was stupid of me to assume… never mind. Have you told your team yet?"

"No, I haven't."

"Well, I think you should. As soon as possible. These guys may have said they would not say anything but you never know. There might be press at the airport too."

Shane nodded.

"And Roz? We got your back. Whatever happens, we'll stand with you."

"Thank you," said Ilya, sincerely.

"Alright. See you at the airport."

They had been driving in silence for the last couple of miles when Ilya asked, "what photo should I post first?"

"Ilya."

"What? My team knows. People know you came to Pennsylvania. The internet will come to the right conclusion in two hours. Better make it two minutes."

"We should wait for Farah's statement," said Shane.

"I think…" Ilya paused for a moment, fidgeting with his phone in his hands. Shane risked a glance at him and saw that Ilya was looking out of the window with a pensive expression. Shane looked back to the road, trying to parse the meaning of that look when Ilya spoke again. "I don't want to do statement. I want to tell the world that I survived plane crash and that I'm marrying the love of my life."

Shane's heart clenched and he once again became aware of the fact that they call it butterflies in your stomach for a reason. He was so in love with Ilya Rozanov that his heart felt like it was going to burst.

He felt tears prickle his eyes. This time yesterday, Ilya was getting ready to board the plane that almost killed him. Shane could have lost this. If Ilya's plane had gone down, Shane would have been lost in his grief. The thought threatened to make him have a breakdown in the middle of the highway. He took a deep breath to calm himself, and put a hand on Ilya's thigh for the briefest of moments.

Ilya took Shane's hand and kissed his knuckles. Shane squeezed once and pulled his hand back to take the upcoming curve properly. They drove for a moment in silence before Shane said. "No photos kissing."

"We don't have any," said Ilya, his voice neutral.

When Shane risked a glance in his direction, Ilya's eyes were lost in the distance. He looked heartbroken and that was how Shane realized how terribly sad Ilya's words were. They'd been together for years and they didn't have a single photo kissing like a normal couple.

There were thousands of pictures of them together over the years around the internet, but only recently had they stopped being pitted against each other thanks to the Irina Foundation. It had always been Team Rozanov vs Team Hollander; their rivalry, legendary.

Ilya could have died and Shane would not have anything but vague texts in his phone from Lily. No proof of their relationship, the most important thing in Shane's life, because it was scary to be out.

Shane changed lanes and took the next exit. Ilya turned to look at him. "What are you doing?"

"I need to take a break from the wheel," said Shane.

"Are you okay?"

Shane shook his head and drove in silence until the next rest stop. He stopped the car, turned off the engine and turned to Ilya.

"I'm sorry." Shane wasn't sure why he was apologizing, but a few things rang in his head: I'm sorry for what I said. I'm sorry your coach will be mad at you because we stopped. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry it took me so long to be ready. I'm sorry.

"Is okay, Shane. What's wrong?"

Shane's shoulders shook with a sob. "I'm sorry, Ilya, I just can't stop thinking about the accident and how you would be fucking gone and I wouldn't have a single picture of us as a couple and—"

"Shane," Ilya grabbed his right hand and wrapped both of his hands around Shane's. "Sweetheart…"

"I'm sorry. I think I'm crashing," Shane said. "A lot happened in the last 24 hours."

Ilya squeezed Shane's hand and brought it to his lips. After kissing his hand, he said, "what can I do?"

Shane took a deep breath and leaned over the console to kiss Ilya. It was supposed to be a quick peck on the lips, but when their mouths met, they opened against each other instinctively. They kissed long and hard, and Shane forgot that they were in a rest stop somewhere in fucking Pennsylvania.

When Shane pulled away, Ilya's mouth followed him. Shane put a hand on Ilya's cheek and kept him there for a second. "Take the picture."

"What?"

"US. Kissing." Hard launch, rang in his brain and Shane physically recoiled from that. "Come on, we have to get to the airport."

Ilya smiled at him, then fumbled with his phone to get the camera ready. Ilya closed the distance between them but he was smiling too hard and, soon enough, so was Shane. They ended up going with a picture of Shane and Ilya with their foreheads touching and smiling at each other. Ilya's take was good, even if it was obvious it was taken under the poor lightning inside a car.

They looked very good together.

They looked in love.

Shane's heart beat faster as Ilya posted it with the caption Team's okay. I'm okay. I'm marrying the love of my life. I'm the happiest man in the world.

Ilya locked his screen after posting it. "We need to get back on the road."

Shane took out his phone and shot a quick message to Hayden: hey are you awake?

Hayden: been for an hour wondering when you'd call

Shane pressed the call button.

"J.J. is here," said Hayden by way of greeting. "You're on speaker."

"I came looking for you and it turns out you're out in a walk, capitaine?" J.J. sounded like he did not believe Hayden for a second. "Where are you, man?"

"Pennsylvania," answered Shane.

"Why the fuck are you in Pennsylvania?"

"It's where Ilya's plane landed."

"Rozanov?" J.J. asked.

"Do you know any other Ilya?" Shane asked, knowing it wasn't helping.

When J.J. didn't say anything, Shane bulldozed with the rest of it. It was out in the world already. He could hear Ilya's phone pinging with notifications.

"Guys, I'm getting married."

"What?" J.J.'s voice went up an octave.

"What you heard."

There was a beat of silence before Hayden spoke up. "Congratulations, man!"

"You knew about Rozanov?" J.J. asked, his tone hurt.

"Uh," Hayden mumbled, "I—"

"He figured it out," said Shane, coming to his friend's rescue. "I asked Hayden to keep quiet about it. I'm sorry, J.J., I wasn't ready to tell anyone."

"And now you are?" J.J. asked, careful to keep his voice neutral.

"I am. I'm ready, I'm tired of hiding the most important person in my life," said Shane, earnest.

"Fuck, man."

"Yeah," Hayden added eloquently.

"I'm on my way to the airport. I'll be in Detroit as soon as I can," Shane said. "Hopefully, they'll let me play."

"Why wouldn't they?" Hayden asked, then someone knocked on Hayden's door. Though knocking would be a polite way to put it.

"Hollander! Pike!" Coach Theriault yelled. "Open up right now!"

J.J. cursed in French just as the pounding on the door came again.

"What did you do, Shane?" Hayden asked.

"I'm really sorry, guys. I have to go if I want to catch that plane. See you in practice."

"Shane—"

He hung up before Hayden could finish his sentence.

"I should've told the group chat before we posted that, at least," said Shane. "Now Hayden and J.J. will get in trouble for covering up for me."

"Hayden is good friend," Ilya said. "Good guy."

"Are you gonna tell him that?"

"Maybe. Someday." Shane shoved him gently. Ilya just smiled at him. "Hey, do you want me to drive the rest of the way?"

Shane nodded, then caught himself and shook his head. "No, it's fine, I think I can drive. I rented this car after all."

"Very boring car," mocked Ilya. "Could have rented fun car at least."

"I was not going to rent a sports car to drive at night, Ilya."

"Pity." After a moment of fumbling with his phone, he added, "Coach texted to ask if something happened. Told him I felt car sick."

"Sorry."

"Is okay."

Shane's phone rang then and he saw Farah was calling. "It's Farah. We should—"

"Do you want me to…?" Ilya asked.

"No, it's fine. We do it together."

Ilya smiled. "Together."

After Farah's call ("I'm not mad guys, I promise," she said, "just surprised. I'll be fielding calls all day probably so I'd love to know if you have any more posts planned." Ilya had shaken his head and said, "no, now I disappear until next game." "Yeah, same," said Shane), Ilya took another picture of them, this time Ilya was kissing Shane's cheek and Shane was smiling with his eyes closed.

"I thought there would be no more posts," Shane said.

"No, this is for me. Lockscreen picture," he said.

"You're making me your lockscreen wallpaper?"

"Good boyfriends do this," said Ilya.

"You don't have to."

"I want to," said Ilya immediately. "I'm winning the boyfriend Olympics."

"It's not a competition," said Shane. Then he added, "and if it was, I'd be winning. I left my team to go see you in the middle of the night. That's way more romantic."

"I announced our engagement first," countered Ilya.

"I am wearing your team's sweatshirt!"

"Because I gave it to you. Because I'm good boyfriend and don't want you to be cold."

Shane shook his head. "It's not a competition anyway."

"If you say so," Ilya said with a smug smile on his face.

He took a deep breath and turned on the engine. "We have to go, Ilya. They'll be waiting for us at the airport."

Ilya nodded and Shane took the opportunity to kiss Ilya one more time. When they pulled apart, Ilya asked, "can I kiss you goodbye? In public?"

Shane's stomach tightened. Perhaps this would be setting a dangerous precedent, but at the moment, Shane felt wild. He felt brave.

"Yeah," he answered, slightly breathless. "Just… maybe we keep it PG?"

"PG? What is this? Like movie?"

"Like family-friendly movie. Namely, no grabbing my ass or my dick in public."

"But those are the best parts to grab. And your tits obviously."

Shane groaned. "Ilya."

"Fine, fine. Good family-friendly boyfriend at the airport, I get that."

Shane rolled his shoulders back, then drove away from the rest stop as Ilya fiddled with the radio to play his obnoxious music. He told Ilya as much.

"Put some respect on Fetty Wap," said Ilya.

"That cannot be his name for real!"

"What would be your rapper name?"

"I can't rap," replied Shane, hoping the conversation would end there. It did not.

"Of course you can't. I'm asking if you could. In this fantasy world where you rap, what would be your rapper name?"

"I'm not answering this," Shane said, tapping his thumb on the wheel to the rhythm of Fetty Wap's music.

He merged into the highway with Ilya explaining the differences between American trap and Russian trap. Shane loved listening to Ilya talk so animatedly. He hadn't had the best couple of months and this was the happiest he had heard him in a while. Shane felt pride swell in his chest that he could do that. He made Ilya happy. Shane always wanted to make him happy.

About half an hour later, Ilya seemed to tire of his music analysis and stayed silent for a bit. Shane glanced at him and saw his leg was jiggling, anxious.

"What's wrong?" Shane asked.

Ilya bit his lip before answering and Shane had to make a conscious effort to look back at the road.

"Don't you wanna know what they're saying?" Ilya's voice was smaller than Shane would have liked.

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Then you can look, Ilya. We said we would take it. Whatever it was."

Ilya unlocked his phone and hummed. After a few minutes scrolling, he said, "team has many questions about when we took this picture, but most of them have left positive comments."

"Most of them?" Shane's stomach tightened, nervous.

"Yeah, not everyone uses Instagram. But everyone has something to say in group chat, that's for sure."

"Tell me about it," Shane said, knowing that listening to Ilya's voice was the balm he needed to get through the day, and Ilya, in his infinite knowledge of Shane-speak, did just that.

Their arrival to the airport was certainly noticed by people. Ilya went with Shane to buy his ticket to Detroit, and his presence next to Shane made the person at the counter do a double take. Shane tried to be quick and not dwell on the recognition in the woman's eyes, knowing that she would not comment on anything because she was at work. At least, she would not ask Shane for a picture.

Once Shane was ready, he turned to Ilya, who had his eyes glued to his phone. "Where's your team?"

"Waiting for me at the gate. They sent me ticket to my phone."

"Let's go then. I have no bag to check."

Ilya took his hand and Shane was sure someone pointed their phone towards them. His fiance was not concerned with the people around them, and Shane tried his best to match his peaceful demeanor. He thought of letting go of Ilya's hand, but he didn't want to bring more attention to their presence by accidentally starting a scene.

Shane's phone rang in his pocket, but he ignored it as they went through the first security checkpoint. When it rang again, Shane took the call without bothering to glance at the screen.

"Hello?"

"Shane," Hayden said, "Coach is here. You're on speaker."

"Hayd, I'm about to board a plane, what the hell?"

"So you are in Pennsylvania," confirms Theriault. "You broke curfew."

"I'm sorry, Coach. Family emergency." Shane tried to lower his voice as he walked, convinced that someone was listening on his call. Ilya squeezed his hand where he was holding it, but Ilya's warmth could not reach this call.

"Is this a joke?" he asked. Shane knew that the only acceptable response was yes.

"No."

"So you've been lying about your loyalties for how long?" Theriault asked.

"Hey, my relationship with Ilya has never affected my game—"

"You're scratched for the game. I'll talk to management and we'll decide what to do with you."

"Am I… benched?"

"Yes, you’re fucking benched, Hollander!" Coach roared. "What did you think would happen?"

Shane swallowed, his body went rigid, and he came to a stop in the middle of the Pittsburgh airport. "What?"

With a sigh, Theriault said, "look, Hollander, it's one game for now. Get to Detroit, check in at the hotel, and don't fucking talk to the press. I'm sure you'll be hearing from Crowell today."

Shane heard the man walk away before Hayden's voice came over the phone, pained. "I'm sorry man, I tried to text you but you weren't answering."

"It's okay, Hayd. Are you and J.J. okay?"

"J.J. left before I called you. He's been told to keep quiet. Me too, sort of."

"Fuck. Sorry, guys."

"Get to Detroit. Have a safe flight… and, uh, congratulations, man. Tell Rozanov I'm happy his plane didn't crash."

"Hayd."

"I'm serious. I'm happy for you both,"

"Thanks, Hayd. Gotta go. Love you, man. See you in a few hours."

He hung up and looked at Ilya who was frowning at him.

"What happened?"

"I'm benched," he said.

Ilya came closer, letting go of the hand he was holding to wrap his arms around Shane. He went willingly, letting his fiance's —his fiance! Shane was never going to get tired of that word, except perhaps when husband became an option— warmth steady him. He buried his head in the crook of his neck and hugged him tight, inhaling the familiar scent of Ilya's aftershave and shower gel and Ilya, until he felt much better. Shane could have stayed there forever, but Ilya kissed the top of his head and mumbled, "sweetheart, people are staring and I need to catch a plane to St. Louis."

Shane sniffled once against his chest, then pulled away. "Let's go find your gate then."

The Centaurs were boarding already when Ilya and Shane reached his gate. Haas waved at them and they waved back before they stopped a few feet from the tunnel.

"I'll see you in a few days then," said Shane, taking Ilya's hand.

"Four days and half," Ilya replied.

Shane tried to smile at that, but his heart was beating double time. He didn't want to let go of Ilya, not to go on separate planes where anything could happen. "Call me when you land."

"I will."

Shane fought the urge to glance around them to see if they were alone and put a hand on Ilya's cheek, then he pulled him in for a kiss. It was slow and deliberate and exactly what Shane needed to feel at home for a moment longer. When Ilya pulled away, he said, in Russian, "I love you."

"I love you," echoed Shane in Russian as well.

"Will be okay, yes?" Ilya asked, a reassurance for both of them.

"Yes, Ilya, it'll be okay."

"See you at home, then."

"See you."

With a quick final kiss, Ilya turned around and went to the counter to show his boarding pass. He went through but Ilya turned briefly and his eyes met Shane's. A decision seemed to be made in the split second their eyes touch. Ilya dropped his bag, jumped the ropes separating them, and took the steps that separated him from Shane, crashing their mouths together with the force of a tsunami.

They kissed as if this were the first time they'd ever said goodbye, all teeth and tongue, hands clutching at each other as if the other would disappear if they don't hold on. They kissed and Shane forgot, for the briefest of moments, that he was a public figure in the middle of a busy airport in a hockey city. They kiss and Shane understands how people believe in God.

Someone clearing their throat is what brought them back to earth. They touched their foreheads for a moment just as the woman behind the counter said, "sir, last call to board the plane."

"Okay," Ilya said. "I love you."

Shane nodded, then echoed, "I love you."

"See you at home."

"I love you," Shane repeated, this time in Russian.

"And I love you," Ilya said. He turned around, picked up his bag, and went into the tunnel without looking back.

Shane's heart did its best to keep beating at a normal pace, but Shane knew that it wouldn't beat right until he saw Ilya again. A naive part of him thought it would be easier, to say goodbye after all these years.

The whole ordeal of the day before ensured that Shane would never be able to spend time away from Ilya again. Each goodbye would feel like a stab to the chest until there were no more goodbyes between them.

For an insane minute, Shane pondered about retirement. He still had many years of hockey in him, but the prospect of seeing Ilya leave over and over again was poisoning him. Detached, he thought that perhaps this was not a normal response to your future husband leaving for work. Then again, most people weren't about to marry a MLH superstar.

Shane turned around and made his way to his own gate, wondering how he would explain his retirement to the world.

ilyarozanov81

[Photo: Shane and Ilya with their foreheads touching and smiling at each other. They look like they're smiling too much to kiss.]

97,824 likes

ilyarozanov81 Team's okay. I'm okay. I'm marrying the love of my life. I'm the happiest man in the world.

View all 3 788 comments
zboodram man we left you alone half an hour…

troybarrett_ congrats guys!

24×81endgame guys??? gUYSS????

2 hours ago

Shane spent the whole time he was waiting for his plane to start boarding reading the comments on Ilya's picture. The top comment was a gif from a TV show with a guy in a red sweater looking shocked. The second top comment was another gif of the same guy, this time in a white shirt, looking even more shocked. Below that, a bunch of comments from the Centaurs had received over a thousand likes.

Shane was debating posting something of his own, but he didn't want to post any pictures without Ilya's permission. Instead, he commented a short I love you in Russian. His comment quickly garnered attention of its own with likes and more incredulous replies.

He closed the app when they called his flight to start boarding. Shane was relieved that he would not have a chance to check his phone for the next two hours.

Shane slept the entire flight to Detroit. By the time they landed, he was feeling a bit too warm, so he took off Ilya's hoodie. Still, he didn't have a bag with him, so he was not surprised when he got in the car that would take him to the hotel and he saw someone had posted on Twitter a couple of pictures of Shane, hair a mess and dark circles under his eyes, carrying Ilya's sweatshirt. His name and number were easily readable in the picture.

He closed Twitter before he started reading the comments. Still, Shane was still weak enough to google himself on the way to the hotel. He wondered if Ilya's name had always showed up next to him in searches, but he knew that the answer was probably yes. Ever since their first International Prospect Cup probably.

Shane closed the browser and opened his messages app.

Rose: you're getting married?

Rose: and I found out from Ilya's ig post???

Rose: i'm hurt

Shane: we got only engaged last night

Her response was almost immediate.

Rose: oh my god, you went to him? after the accident?

Shane: yes

Rose: that is extremely romantic Shane

Rose: didn't know u had it in u

Rose: congratulations

Rose: i'm going to add Ilya's photo to my story

Shane: what?

Rose: otherwise my lovely comment will get lost in a sea of comments

Shane: Rose you don't have to post anything about it

Rose: you're my best friend

Rose: of course I have to post something about it

Shane smiled the message. It was nice to have Rose's open support, even if it would attract even more attention to the fact that Shane and Ilya had just publicly come out.

When he arrived at the hotel, he did his best to appear nonchalant in front of the paparazzi that had gathered outside. He checked in, went to his room, and patiently waited for the rest of his team to arrive. Specially Hayden. He needed a change of clothes and he depended on his friend to bring his bag to him.

Shane had just closed the door to his room when got a call from Ilya.

"Hey," Shane said. "Everything okay?"

"Better now that I know you're okay," Ilya sounded relieved, as if he had just gone through his own personal nightmare flying away from Shane. Shane's heart felt full of love.

"I don't know if I can keep doing this," confessed Shane.

Ilya didn't reply for a moment, but when he did, Shane's heart shattered into tiny little pieces.

"Are you.. are you breaking up with me?" Ilya's voice caught in that last syllable.

"What? No! Jesus, Ilya, I meant I can't keep saying goodbye every few weeks. It's killing me."

Shane heard Ilya's intake of breath and he wished that he could see Ilya, that he could touch him and reassure him he was in it for real, that he could hold him while the gravity of the situation Ilya had gone through set for both of them.

"Ilya… can we FaceTime?"

A second later, Shane received a FaceTime request from Ilya. His expression was as neutral as he could make it, but Shane could see the cracks in Ilya's war face. It hurt.

"I love you so much, Ilya. I feel like my heart matches the rhythm of your heart. And it fucking hurts when you're not here."

"I almost die and suddenly you become poet," teased Ilya, but his eyes were shining in a way that suggested Shane's words affected him deeply.

"I mean it, Ilya. I seriously started considering retirement when you left."

Ilya frowned. "No."

"What do you mean 'no'?"

"We retire together. That's always been the deal," Ilya said with a shrug, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

Shane watched as Ilya took off his headphones to talk to the agent at the counter. After he was done, he put his headphones back in and looked at Shane, his frown softer.

"The deal was we retire together before I almost lost you," Shane continued, as if their conversation hadn't been interrupted for a minute.

"And if you retire, you watch me leave every few weeks on road trip. Ridiculous," Ilya countered.

"No… I'll come to every one of your games with you," Shane said. "I'll be your number one fan."

"You are my number one fan already. I know this. Everybody knows now. You don't need to retire for that."

"Your number one fan wouldn't miss one of your games to play hockey. That would make me a fake fan."

"Shane." Ilya looked at him with his serious face on. "You are not retiring. Is this because you were on Twitter?"

"I barely even checked Twitter."

"Instagram then? I saw your comment. I pinned it to top."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"So now first comment everyone sees is my fiance telling me he loves me. Should have written in Cyrillic, looks prettier."

Shane rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll make sure to practice my Russian in your Instagram comments then."

"Good." Ilya looked at something or someone beyond his phone and frowned. "There is press here. "

"Your team did survived a plane accident," Shane said.

"I don't want to talk to press. They ask too many stupid questions." Ilya sighed and his shoulder sagged visibly. "Coach is making face that I need to speak. They will ask about you. He has to know that."

"Don't you wanna have fun with the press?"

"Is not fun when they are stupid." Ilya sighed again. "I have to go. Talk later."

"Okay. I love you," said Shane. He kissed two fingers then held them up to the camera.

"I love you," Ilya said in return, smiling as bright as the sun.

Shane ended up being sent to Montreal after the Detroit game for a meeting with Roger Crowell on Monday. His team was not speaking to him, save for Hayden and J.J., who had been slow to warm up to the idea of Ilya Rozanov being his fiance, but had stood up for him next to Hayden when no one was even looking at Shane in the eye.

When he arrived to Montreal, Ilya was already at Shane's place, waiting for him wearing a faded Boston t-shirt that Shane had stolen a few years ago. He looked so handsome that Shane almost forgot all about the drama of their coming out and melted into his arms. They kissed, hard and urgent, and Shane felt the last remnants of his anxiety dissolve under the weight of their kiss.

They kissed for a long time, long enough that Shane's body ached everywhere they were not touching.

"Fuck, Ilya" Shane mumbled when Ilya started kissing down his neck.

"Oh, I intend to," Ilya said against his neck.

Then, he slid his hands down to Shane's thighs and hauled Shane up. Shane instinctively wrapped his thighs around Ilya's waist and let himself be carried to the sofa, where he was dumped unceremoniously.

"Hey!"

Ilya took off his t-shirt in one fluid movement, then his hands went to his jeans. Shane took the hint and started stripping, folding his clothes on the arm of the sofa, knowing that they would probably end up on the floor at some point anyway.

Once Shane had folded his pants, he focused on the sight of Ilya's erect cock in front of him. He leaned forward, as if the strings holding him up had been cut, and mouthed at his fiance's perfect dick.

"Fuck, Shane," Ilya said, running his hand over Shane's hair. "You're so fucking desperate for it."

Shane licked at the underside of Ilya's dick, slow and deliberate, kissing the head of his cock as if they had all the time in the world. Ilya was mumbling sweet nothings in Russian, and Shane knew that if he put his mind to it, Ilya would come down his throat without fucking him, which, granted, it'd be extremely hot, but Shane needed Ilya's dick in him yesterday.

He swallowed as much of Ilya's cock as he could and let his jaw hang open so Ilya would fuck his throat. After a few thrusts, Ilya pulled back.

"I'm not gonna last if you offer your mouth like that."

Shane looked up at him through his long eyelashes. "Maybe I want that."

"Fuck." Ilya grabbed his cock at the base and squeezed, trying to gain some of his composure back. After a moment, he let go of his dick and pushed Shane back in the sofa. Then, he sat on top of Shane's thighs, rubbing his thighs on Shane's leaking cock. Shane felt heady at the prospect of having Ilya on his lap, hard and needy and spitting on his own hand to grab both of their cocks with his callous hand and rub them together.

Shane threw his head back when Ilya started picking up his pace, the friction between their dicks just right to bring him to the edge. Ilya cursed and moved his wrist just so that it sent a jolt through Shane's body. He moaned, long and loud, and then Ilya was kissing him again.

He didn't know how long they were in the sofa. Objectively, it couldn't have been more than five minutes. To Shane, it felt like he had died and gone to heaven between Ilya's thighs, Ilya's kisses, Ilya's weight on top of him.

"Want you to come all over me," mumbled Shane against Ilya's lips.

"God, Shane."

"Come on, Ilya. Come for me."

And Ilya, who already looked wrecked when Shane was sucking his dick, came with a groan. Ilya didn't stop stroking them, using his own come to make the glide easier. Shane felt his orgasm explode behind his eyes, and he shook with the force of it for a few seconds until Ilya stopped his hand between them.

Shane opened his eyes to see Ilya lick his fingers clean of their combined spend.

"Fuck," Shane said, finding the sight hotter than it should have been.

"Hmm… I missed the taste of your come in my mouth."

Shane made a face. "You know these words but you don't know 'kinetic' when we're playing scrabble?"

Ilya stood up and grabbed his t-shirt from the floor to wipe his hand with it. Shane grimaced, but he felt relieved that Ilya had not wiped on his own body.

"Shower? Then I fuck you through the mattress?" Ilya offered his now clean hand to Shane.

"And they say romance is dead," he replied, taking Ilya's hand and following him to the bedroom.

After the shower, Shane rode Ilya's dick as if there was no tomorrow. He was panting and moaning as he bounced on Ilya's cock, when a thought crossed his mind: they were going to get married. Ilya was going to become his husband.

"Fuck, Ilya," he mumbled in between kisses. "You said yes."

"What?" his soon-to-be-husband asked, holding onto his hips hard enough to bruise.

"You said yes; we're gonna get married."

When Ilya didn't say anything for the longest time, Shane risked a glance down at Ilya's face and saw his lips were pursed in a tiny frown. Shane stilled his hips with Ilya still inside of him.

"You thought I would say no?" Ilya looked up at him, his beautiful eyes looked hurt.

"I…" It was difficult to think while full of Ilya's dick. "I thought you wanted to wait until we retired."

Ilya shifted his hips up and hit Shane's prostate. Shane saw stars and a moan escaped his throat. "I have been ready to come out for months," Ilya said, "I kept waiting on you to be ready."

"No, I meant the wedding. You said…" Shane shifted his hips. Big mistake. That move put the exact amount of pressure on his insides that he could probably come from one flick of Ilya's wrist. "You said you'd propose when you'd retire."

Ilya turned them over so Shane was on his back, his legs wrapped tight around Ilya's waist. The chain around his neck touched Shane's chin as Ilya hovered on top.

"You remember what I said that night?"

Shane could barely focus. Ilya's position grazed his sweet spot just right. "Fuck, Ilya. I can't—"

"Tell me. What else did I say?" Ilya asked, amused.

"The dock. The candles. The lake. The full moon," Shane recited. He could have recited that entire afternoon second by second as it happened. It was burned in his memory.

"And?" Ilya prompted, thrusting slowly in and out of Shane.

"You said… you said you would ask me… ‘will you please marry me… so I can become Canadian… citizen… faster?’" Shane gasped with each thrust.

Ilya kissed the side of his face, his neck, his shoulder. "And then?"

"I said… I would say yes… because"—Shane gasped— "I'd still… be in love… with you."

Ilya's hips moved faster, but still too slow for Shane. "And then?"

Shane frowned. "What— what do you mean?"

"You remember"—Ilya stilled for a moment, breathing in deeply—"what you said after?"

Shane's mind was lost in a fog of lust, but he tried very hard to remember what else they had said.

"You said," Ilya started, "'I want you in my life. All of it.' and I said—"

"'I want to tell everyone'," completed Shane. "'Right now.'"

"—right now," repeated Ilya.

Shane frowned at Ilya. "You would have? Told everyone then?"

"Da. Yes. Fuck," he thrust his cock deeper into Shane and Shane gasped.

How different would their lives have been if they had told everyone then? If they had just taken that risk. Would their relationship have lasted as long as it did? Would they have ruined their careers? Would it have changed anything? Perhaps they would still be here, in Shane's Montreal apartment in between games, stealing as much time together as they could.

"Fuck, Ilya, fuck me, please fuck me," he begged, half out of his mind. Ilya happily complied, ramming into Shane as if he was in the fucking Olympics. "I can't believe… you would have told… everyone…"

Ilya jerked Shane off and all of Shane's words went the way of the dodo. He came with a cry just as Ilya's erratic thrusts told Shane that Ilya was coming too.

"Fuck, Shane," Ilya fell on top of him, making a bigger mess of Shane's stomach.

"I can't believe you would have told everyone then," said Shane when his words came back to him. "Would you have married me then?"

"Yes," Ilya said, no hesitation in his voice.

"Fuck. I love you so much. So, so much. I'm sorry I wasn't ready before."

"You are ready now, yes?"

"More than ready. I'm all in. I'll schedule an appointment for the marriage license right now if you want."

Ilya smiled at him.

"Okay." He moved to grab something from the nightstand, then tossed Shane's phone in between them. "When can we get married, Hollander?"

Shane took his phone, opened his browser, and made the appointment as his own come cooled on his skin and Ilya's dripped from his ass.

The meeting with Roger Crowell went exactly as they expected it to go. After a bunch of not-so-veiled threats about their careers, Shane told Crowell that he would always choose Ilya and left feeling lighter than he had ever felt.

That same day, after eating with his fiance in public for the first time ever, they drove back to Ottawa and went to get their marriage license. When Shane asked how soon they could get married, the municipality where they got the license from told them that if they had 2 witnesses, they could get married immediately, since they didn't have any more appointments for the day.

The woman had not even finished speaking when Ilya had his phone out. "Who do we call?" Ilya asked.

"Hayden is in Montreal," Shane said. "My parents? Unless you want to ask someone from the team?"

"Team practice in thirty minutes. They would all come here. Can't miss practice if I'm not allowed to play next game. Call Yuna. I will call David."

Shane's mother answered on the second ring. "How did it go with Crowell?"

"How soon can you get downtown?"

"I am downtown, I was in a meeting. What happened?"

"Ilya and I are getting married," Shane said. "Now if you get here before they close."

"Shane, your father is at work…"

Shane looked over at Ilya and saw him giving him a thumbs up. "Dad is coming. Ilya's on the phone with him."

"Shane… are you—"

"If you ask me if I'm sure, I'm calling one of Ilya's teammates to be my witness."

"Shane!"

"I'm serious, mom. I've never been more serious in my entire life."

"I'm on my way," she said before hanging up.

Ilya had already finished his call and was looking at Shane with his most adoring eyes ever.

"What?" Shane asked.

"You are the love of my life, Shane Hollander. I am in love with you and now everyone will know."

"Everyone knows already," said Shane, still not used to the reality of that statement.

"But now they will all believe. No more hollanov skeptics."

"What the hell is hollanov?"

"Is how fans call us. In the internet. Since before coming out even."

"Do I want to know how you know this?"

"The internet is fun place, Hollander. You should hang out more often."

"No, thanks."

"Your loss."

Shane's parents arrived then and, as Ilya hugged them, Shane called the person who told them they could get married. The woman smiled at them and took them to a small office where they waited five minutes for the officiant to come in.

"Are you ready?" the officiant asked.

Shane looked at Ilya and saw his confident look waver a bit. Shane took his hand and smiled.

"We are so ready."

Ilya's answering smile was the most beautiful thing in the world. Shane swore to himself he'd always do whatever it took to make him smile like that again. Always. For as long as he lived.

ilyarozanov81 and shanehollanderhockeyplayer

[Photo: Shane and Ilya kissing in Canadian government office.]

[Photo: Shane and Ilya smiling at each other with heart eyes.]

[Photo: Shane and Ilya smiling proudly at the camera. Yuna and David Hollander are on either side of them hugging them with matching smiles on their faces.]

77,814 likes

ilyarozanov81 This is the happiest I've ever been.

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zboodram i'm hurt that you would start celebrating without ME

troybarrett_ congrats guys! you owe us a party!

24×81endgame guys?? gUYSS???? I AM HAVING A CARDIAC EVENT

29 minutes ago

r/hockey ∙ Posted by u/sydthekid 8 hours ago

So what’s up with the whole Rozanov/Hollander drama

are they or are they not together?

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stef90 Moderator Score hidden ∙ 1 hour ago

Reminder that this is a subreddit for fans of hockey, not your twitter feeds. Outright hatred to fans or to the players themselves will result in a ban.

rozanovswife 825 points ∙ 5 hours ago

I’m sad but I hope he's happy with Hollander

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babysonfire 108 points ∙ 5 hours ago

I have no idea what gossip you’re talking about

                tiredbostonfan 98 points ∙ 5 hours ago

                this ☹

                53 more replies

24×81endgame 624 points ∙ 2 hours ago

THEY JUST GOT MARRIED AND I AM FLOATING IN A CLOUD

I CAN'T BELIEVE I WAS RIGHT ABOUT HOLLANOV. IMAGINE DNP COME OUT NEXT I WOULD DIE

onesongonrepeat98 547 points ∙ 3 hours ago

where are the mods this is out of control

r/hollanov ∙ Posted by u/24×81endgame 1 hour ago

THEY'RE MARRIED YOUR HONOR

HYDROGEN BOMB AFTER HYDROGEN BOMB

[Photo: Shane and Ilya kissing in Canadian government office.]

[Photo: Shane and Ilya smiling at each other with heart eyes.]

What do you guys think?

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rexxcorvus 284 points ∙ 1 hour ago

IM SO USED TO GIVING NOW I GET TO RECEIVEEEE

                actuallyahockeyfan 11 points ∙ 10 hours ago

                hard agree tbh

                7 more replies

shanerozanov24 199 points ∙ 1 hour ago

i'm literally in tears guys there's only so much my heart can take in a week and a plane accident, a hard launch and a wedding is too much

onesongonrepeat98 97 points ∙ 1 hour ago

hasn’t it been repeated time and time again to not spread tabloid rumors in this thread? ffs I understand you like them and want to know more about them but they DO NOT owe us an explanation on everything that goes on in their private lives jesus

                javiera_ciruela 143 points ∙ 45 minutes ago

                Yeaaaaaaah they def confirmed they're married bestie

                                             onesongonrepeat98 13 points ∙ 7 minutes ago

                                             mb I thought I hit my head and died for a moment there

Continue this thread ➜

"The people in this hollanov thread are good," said Shane.

Ilya, who was busy chopping up veggies for the pasta, looked up at that.

"Are you on Reddit right now?" he asked, incredulous.

"Most of them agree we got together in 2017. After the All Stars game." Shane scrolled down further in the thread, where people analyzed pictures of the Irina Foundation launch. Apparently Ilya's heart eyes were enough proof for most of them. Shane wondered why he never noticed that their pictures together were so telling. Perhaps he was happy to ignore it as many hockey fans did.

"Are you going to correct them?" Ilya asked, amused.

"I'm just impressed. I'd never seen our relationship like this," he admitted.

"Is good. They did not scare you away."

"They would not scare me away," Shane said.

"They would. A little."

Shane hummed. "Maybe a little."

They were at Ilya's place cooking lunch the day after their wedding. Their pictures together had reached hundreds of thousands of likes and comments. Shane refused to check Twitter, but his mother had told him he had been trending since their first picture after the accident. Apparently even Reebok had tweeted congratulations. CCM had posted on Instagram a picture from their first campaign together, one of the shots where they hadn't been laughing, next to their wedding kiss, with the caption started from the bottom, now we're here.

Shane knew that his mother had done some kind of sleuthing to get the brands on board, but he could not have never imagined the response they'd get.

Shane had received an email that he was expected in practice the following day. No congratulations from management or anything. In the group chat, the last message was from Hayden.

Hayden: congrats man. we're popping the champagne when we win next game!

J.J. had reacted with a champagne emoji.

No one else had commented anything.

Shane got out of the message thread and went back to the browser.

"What's tumblr?" Shane asked.

"You don't want to know," answered Ilya.

"We're trending there too."

"Figures. Do you want me to add kale to this sauce?"

Shane was about to answer when the doorbell rang. "Are you expecting someone?" Shane asked.

Ilya shook his head. "Maybe it's the rings."

Shane blushed. They had picked their rings that morning in bed. It was impossible they were here on the same day. The doorbell went off again, this time more insistently.

Ilya put the knife to the side and wiped his hands on the kitchen towel. Then he walked to the door —not without stopping to quickly kiss Shane on the way. He heard Ilya huff a laugh as he answered the door.

Loud hooting and hollering came from the door and Shane could not help but go check it out. The entrance to Ilya's house was packed with Centaurs players. When they noticed Shane, they cheered louder.

Shane stood next to his husband —his husband! Ilya was his husband now!— and tried to make sense of the balloons, posters, and raised bottles of sparkling wine. To the side, he noticed Hayden and J.J., sticking out like a sore thumb in the sea of Centaurs by the way their shoulders were hunched, as if unsure of what their place was.

Next to them, smiling brightly, stood Rose. That brought his voice back. "Rose? Aren't you supposed to be in New York?"

"Surprise!" she yelled, making her way through the Centaurs to hug both Shane and Ilya. She pulled back with a glint in her eye. "We aren't… interrupting anything are we?"

"Just lunch," said Shane.

Ilya had a small frown in his face, but it wasn't because of Rose, he was clearly trying to put together how the Centaurs managed to get Rose Landry to come to their house unannounced.

"So, are you gonna let us come in or what?" Luca Haas asked. "We have a celebration to start!"

The rest of the Centaurs cheered. Ilya looked at Shane as if asking for permission. He knew that Shane had felt a little tender since coming out since none of his so-called friends had put any effort in feeling happy for Shane. J.J. and Hayden were the only ones who seemed to care about Shane's happiness, even if it had taken J.J. a couple of conversations to get with the program. He nodded and Ilya opened the door to let his friends enter.

Shane felt his heart beat faster. They were celebrating their wedding. These people were here to celebrate their love, not to make fun of them or speculate about their careers. It was surreal. Once everyone was inside and their living room and kitchen became a hub of activity, Shane took Ilya's hand and squeezed.

"Together?" Shane asked.

Ilya gave him one of his brightest smiles, the kind that said he was so in love he could barely hold it in.

"Together."