Chapter Text
“They wanna film what?” Shane asked his phone screen. He’d just gotten home from hockey practice with his husband and checked his phone to find an email in his inbox he’d never in a million years have ever expected to see.
“What is it?” Ilya asked. Shane didn’t need to look up to know his husband was walking up behind him to read over Shane’s shoulder.
“You remember a while ago they did that documentary on our rivalry,” Shane said.
“Yes, the annoying one when I could not say anything that was true,” Ilya remarked.
“Yes, well, they seem to be a bit annoyed about that now too,” Shane sighed. “They want to do another one.”
“What?” Ilya asked, excited. Shane’s stomach sank. He’d planned on just turning it down, but if the mere idea made Ilya this happy, he had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to. Stupid love-stuck fool that he was, he would probably give in.
Shane turned around to look his husband in the eyes and melted. He was definitely going to give in to those happy smiles and loving eyes. Shit.
“Yeah, we’re both Ottawa Centaurs now, and everyone knows we are together even if not all of them know we got married last summer,” Shane continued. “We successfully changed the narrative.” He laughed at his own joke, but it was a nervous laugh.
“First married NHL All-Stars,” Ilya agreed. “Is good story. Yes?”
“It would seem so,” Shane sighed, picking up his phone again.
“What do they want to know?” Ilya asked.
Shane reread a few lines of the email before he answered. “Everything, it seems. They want to do separate and joint interviews and talk to my parents and our friends, and they want us to voice over big moments we had on the ice, like, our relationship is a behind-the-scenes spectacle.”
“Oh my,” Ilya said, but he was beaming.
“You wanna do this, don’t you,” Shane groaned. Ilya was nodding excitedly. Shane covered his face with his hands.
“Come now, Shane,” Ilya said. Shane felt a hand on his shoulder. “This will be fun, yes.”
“This will be embarrassing!" Shane whined. “It means reliving our past.” There were things he didn’t want to think about again, but for Ilya one thing in particular would definitely come up. Shane continued in a soft voice. “It will mean revisiting moments you’d rather not think of, like when I was knocked out cold on the ice.”
Ilya visibly flinched, but he didn’t give in. “Will be worth it,” he said.
Even if he hadn’t really expected it to change Ilya’s mind, Shane had expected the idea of reliving that moment to deter Ilya more. The fact it hadn’t meant this was far more important to him than Shane realised, and that they were definitely doing it.
Still, Shane wanted to understand why Ilya had his heart set on explaining in detail to a camera crew what they really meant to each other.
“Why do you want to do this?”
Ilya didn’t speak for a moment, and Shane suspected he was gathering the words in English.
“On that plane,” Ilya began, and already Shane’s vision started to blur. “When I thought I would die, thought I would never see you again… I hated how much time I’d wasted hiding how much I love you from everyone. From you, from myself, from the world.”
Tears fell from Shane’s eyes, clearing his tear-blurred vision as he gazed at his husband. Ilya’s thumb gently wiped away a tear from Shane’s cheek, over his freckles.
“I am done hiding,” Ilya added. “I want the world to remember that I loved you long after I am gone.”
Ilya’s palm was against his face, and Shane leaned into the touch, too overwhelmed with emotion to speak.
“You are my legacy, Shane Hollender,” Ilya continued. “Your heart is the greatest prize I have ever won.”
Shane did not fucking deserve this man. What could he even say to that? He thought of all the trophies and prizes Ilya had actually won. The Stanley Cup replica representing his win for Boston held a prideful place in their joint trophy room.
His vision was so blurry from pooled tears, Shane had to blink furiously to see Ilya. He knew he needed to say something, but nothing he could think of was enough to express just how deeply he loved Ilya. Simply saying ‘I love you too’ after that felt weak and meaningless. Why was Ilya such a poet when it came to expressing his love?
Shane took a step closer to his husband and wrapped his arms around him. Ilya welcomed him, but Shane still felt like he needed to say… something.
“I don’t ever want to live without you,” Shane whispered into his husband’s shirt. Ilya put his strong arms around Shane and just held him.
Pulling away, Shane kissed his husband’s knuckles. Then he tried his best to say ‘I love you’ in Russian.
“Ya tebya lyublyu,” Shane said with a horrible accent. Shane put a hand on either side of his husband’s face and gazed into his eyes. They were soft and affectionate, but Ilya was still composed. Shane knew he needed to say more. Why was he so bad at this?
“I can’t express my emotions as elegantly as you,” Shane continued in English. “But I need you to know that I feel exactly the same way about you. I love you so fucking much, Ilya. I can’t- I don’t know how-” But Shane was too overwhelmed to keep talking about the depth of his love for his husband.
Tears were streaming down Shane’s cheeks as he pressed his face against Ilya’s chest.
Their first summer at the cottage together Shane had thought he couldn’t love Ilya more than he already did, and yet with every passing year together Shane somehow managed to fall deeper in love with Ilya Rozanov.
“You are so beautiful,” Ilya murmured in Russian, his hands tangled into Shane’s hair.
Shane looked up and met his husband’s eyes. Finally he could see Ilya’s composure crack. Did that mean Ilya understood? Shane hoped so.
“Make love to me,” Shane pleaded. It wasn’t the language they usually used. Shane often requested that Ilya fuck him, but this phrase was new territory for them. Right now it just felt right, somehow, to ask to be closer to Ilya in this way with those words.
Ilya did not need telling twice. In seconds, Shane was pressed up against the kitchen counter, being thoroughly kissed. Then Ilya’s hands were supporting him under his thighs, hoisting Shane up onto the counter.
“Bedroom,” Shane whispered even as his head lolled back and Ilya’s lips attacked his throat. His husband took no notice of Shane’s suggestion. Ilya seemed to be beyond words at this point. He was making some very primal growling noises and breathing hard. Shane decided the bedroom was too far away.
Shane wasn’t sure when or how they’d rid themselves of their clothes, but the interfering fabric was on the ground now. Ilya's lips and hands seemed to be everywhere, lighting his every nerve on fire.
For over ten years, he’s known how it felt to be naked with Ilya, but time had done nothing to temper his need for this man’s touch. Shane was moaning and gasping as Ilya devoured him.
Shane managed to translate maybe half of the mumbled Russian words Ilya was saying between kisses, mostly just the ones he’d heard the most. Shane suspected most people learning a new language didn’t learn the words for ‘beloved’, ‘forever’, and ‘sweetheart’ before basic sentence structure, but Shane definitely had.
Lying on the kitchen floor a while later, Shane’s mind was gooey and happy, coming down from his post-orgasm high. Ilya’s arm was around him, and Shane was unbelievably comfortable.
Sex with Ilya was really the only time his mind was still. He’d always needed Ilya to help him find this silence, long before he’d understood the reason for that need was far more than just his post-orgasm bliss. Before he’d admitted to himself how deeply in love he was, Ilya had still been his calm space.
Gently Shane turned his head to kiss whatever bit of his husband was nearest to him. Ilya hummed happily and tangled his hand in Shane’s hair. For a moment Shane simply existed in this perfect moment with his favourite person on earth.
Then the dog interrupted them. Even though Anya’s happy bark was music to their ears, Shane and Ilya both got up off the floor quickly, fearing adorable puppy claws on bare skin. She meant well, but clothes were a good idea when Anya wanted to jump in your lap.
“Bed next time,” Shane laughed, as he put his underwear back on.
“If there is time,” Ilya shrugged, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and nothing else.
“We’ll make time!” Shane replied, pulling his shirt over his head.
Ilya was still chuckling, but his attention was now fixed on Anya, leaning down to scratch behind her ears.
As Shane got his pants back on, he remembered why they’d just had sex on the kitchen floor. He had an email to answer.
Retrieving his phone, Shane opened the email app and typed a simple reply agreeing to the documentary, as long as they could have a say in how it was presented. Ilya wanted a legacy, not a joke. If Shane had anything to say about it, this shit was gonna be hella romantic!
The reply came hours later when all three members of the family were curled up on the couch together watching an action movie. Shane’s phone notification made him look over.
The producer seemed happy, but maybe surprised, to receive a positive answer. Shane replied a few more times to set up a day to meet and discuss everything further.
It was amazing having his and Ilya’s work schedules so in sync since they started playing on the same team. Shane barely had to think to find a day that worked for them both.
When he looked up from his phone Ilya had his eyes forward on the movie, absently scratching behind Anya’s ears where she sat in his lap. Shane smiled and reached over, kissing his husband’s temple and stroking his dog’s soft fur.
“It's all set up,” Shane said. “We meet with the producers in two weeks.”
Ilya’s attention shifted off the television to fixate on Shane. He just smiled but it was a genuine smile. When Ilya smiled for real, it was like his smile split his face in two. Ilya's genuine smile never failed to take Shane's breath away.
Sitting there on the couch with his family, Shane could hardly believe how lucky he was, and now they were going to tell the entire world every detail.
It was going to be an interesting meeting.