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Unknown number: Hi, Shane! I’m Svetlana. Ilya's friend. I'm so sorry for texting you so suddenly. I got your number from Rose. Rose Landry, your ex-girlfriend. So, I'm texting you to ask you if I can come to your cottage on New Year's?

Shane: Hi. This is unexpected. Yeah, you can come. It’ll be just me and Ilya that day. 

Unknown number: Great! Please don’t tell Ilya. I’m surprising him ;)

Shane: Sure.

Unknown number: Pinky promise? 

Shane: Yes. Pinky promise.

Unknown number: Yey! See you soon!!

Saved unknown number. Renamed ‘Svetlana’

New Year’s Day

Shane is cooking french toast, which is his usual go-to breakfast when he wants a sweet breakfast that still has essential carbs and nutrients. The unusual part is that he is cooking more than two servings. Luckily Ilya is still outside on his morning walk with Anya because if he is, Shane knows he will be telling him, “You don’t do math when cooking.” Also, it would ruin the surprise.

He hears the sound of a car parking in their driveway, so turns off the stove and walks to the door.

“Hi!” Svetlana greets excitedly as Shane opens the door.

”Hi,” Shane greets back with a shy wave.

She walks to him with her arms open, but then she pauses. “Can I?” 

“Yeah,” he replies, opening his arms. She hugs him, excitedly, which he reciprocates. When they both step back, he notices that she is not alone. 

A young girl is standing in front of the red convertible. She has wavy, dark blonde hair, blue-green irises, and impressively tall for her age. Funnily enough, Shane thinks that she looks a little like Ilya when he was younger and still has his hair on shoulder length.

He gives a small wave to the young girl. “Hi.”

She waves back and smiles as she says, “Hello.”

Svetlana walks to her side and puts a hand on her arm. “Shane, this is Amaliya. Ilya’s niece.”

“Oh.” Shane is genuinely surprised.

He does know what to say or how to exactly react to that since he knows that Ilya has a complicated relationship with his brother Alexei, but, despite that, Ilya loves his niece. So much. There were times Ilya gets an epiphany whenever Shane and him go to the mall and see teenage girls hanging out with their friends.

They were eating lunch at the Al fresco of a restaurant that Ilya read from an article about ‘Restaurants that serve pets as well as their Fur Parents’. 

“She might be around their age,” Ilya said, looking solemn on his plate of carbonara.

“Who?” Shane asked.

”My niece. She was five years old when I last saw her at my father’s funeral. When I cut off my brother, I also cut her off. Sometimes I can’t help but wish I could see her, even in pictures.”

Shane looks at Ilya’s bittersweet expression. Thankfully, they brought Anya with them. Anya barks, seemingly sensing that Ilya needs some cheering up. It works. She is better than Shane on that most of the time.

Shane opens the door for them, which Svetlana compliments him about and complains about Ilya.

”You are such a gentleman,” she says. “Ilya almost always doesn't open the door for me. I’m the one that opens the door for him wherever we go.”

He chuckles. “Yeah? I can attest to that,” he says as he recalls Ilya making him open the door to his car, the door of the chicken parmesan place, the door of the train cart they rode at the amusement park they visited in Los Angeles.

”He is such a damsel,” she says.

To his surprise, he finds himself laughing. Ilya is a damsel, a mischievous but lovable one, he says to himself. He clears his throat and says, “Um, welcome to our house. There’s a shoe cabinet where you can put your outside shoes, and there are slippers you can use.”

Svetlana grins, remembering a picture Ilya texted her. 

Ilya: Shane bought me slippers that warms my feet

Ilya: *Picture of a pair of grey fluffy bunny slippers next to a pair of orange fluffy fox slippers*

Svetlana: Does that only warms your feet, or your heart too?

Ilya: Yes. My heart too.

Svetlana: You smitten fox.

Ilya: No no. I’m the bunny.

While putting their shoes on the cabinet, the scent of french toast greets Svetlana and Amaliya.

”Oohh, what is that?” Svetlana muses whilst slipping a pair of red slippers on. “That smells gorgeous.”

”That is the smell of a good caramelized exterior of the bread,” Amaliya says. 

Shane looks at her with amusement. “Wow. Do you cook?”

She nods, happily. “Yes. I love cooking. It’s meditative but stress-inducing also.”

Her English is very good, Shane notes. 

“I’ll, uh, finish cooking this one and have the table ready. Ilya and Anya could be on their walk back here right now.”

”Anya?” Amaliya asks.

”Their sweet, sweet dog,” Svetlana answers. 

Amaliya makes a face. Shane smiles, recognizing that because it is similar to the face he makes when Ilya and his dad talk about vodka. He’s okay with a sip but he would never go back for a second sip. Amaliya, on the other hand, might like the idea of dogs but would before to stick with the idea just being an idea.

Shane offers them to wait by the living room but Svetlana insists on setting the table and sitting there so that she and Amaliya can chat with him.

“Ilya mentioned you have a thing for real estate stuff. I guess it's true.” She runs her hand on the slick wood of the utensils drawer.

“I really don't have a thing, okay?” He chuckles. “He just likes making fun of me.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Svetlana says, shaking her head as she stands next to Shane. “He likes teasing you, is what it is.” They share a knowing look, then Svetlana bumps her shoulder on Shane’s.

“Do you cook often?” Amaliya asks Shane whilst putting plates on each table mat, and while he plates the last French toast on top of the platter.

“Yes. Only during the holidays and summers. On other times, I tend to have my meals pre-cooked, so I’ll only have to reheat them.”

“Hm. Understandable. It's time-saving, I bet.”

“Thank you,” he says with great relief. “Your uncle teases me about it but he’s been into those lately.”

She grins. “Why? His age is hitting him?”

That elicited a jaw-dropped reaction from Shane. Svetlana has to clutch her stomach because of how hard she is laughing.

“Amaliya, wow,” is all Shane can say.

She shrugs, then adds, “He’s edging fourty, right?”

That makes Shane crack—laughing to the point he put a hand on his mouth.

Right on time, just after having the table set and the breakfast served, Anya and Ilya have arrived at the doorstep.

Shane pats his hands on his apron, removes it, then walks to the door. He is greeted with Anya, jumping on his ankles, asking him for an ‘up-up’, to which he complies. And then, Ilya steps in, essentially draping himself on Shane and Anya. 

“Ew, you’re sweaty,” Shane complains, but there is a grin on his lips.

“You didn’t complain about my sweat last night.”

That is their usual start of their flirty banter before breakfast. Ilya is leaning for a kiss when Anya barks and jumps off of Shane’s arms. He watches Anya trot towards the kitchen table, which, to his great surprise, is occupied.

“Svetlana?”

”Hi, Ilya!” She lifts her glass of orange juice to his direction. 

His eyes turned to the young girl sitting next to Svetlana. With just the first glance, he recognized her, and he felt a great wave of emotions hitting him.

“Are you—Is she…?” He trails then looks at Svetlana, who nods. He looks at the young girl again and covers his mouth as he cannot hold back a big smile. “Amaliya?”

Amaliya smiles as big as Ilya’s. “Yes,” she says. “Hi, uncle.”

“Oh my god,” is all Ilya says before walking towards her. She just got up from her seat as Ilya pulled her in a tight embrace, which she reciprocated. Ilya steps back, looks at her face whilst cradling it. His heart clenches in the way her hair resembles his mother’s. “You’ve grown so big. So beautiful too, like your grandmother.”

Amaliya fights back a tear then embraces Ilya again, tighter this time. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again,” she replies in Russian.

Ilya kisses the top of her head. “Me too."

Shane feels his heart swell at the sight of them reuniting after many years. 

Breakfast is great! It is mostly Amaliya sharing stories of her high school, and Ilya listening intently and reacting enthusiastically. Turns out, she likes cooking and baking with passion. She has joined and won some cooking and baking contests since middle school. Ilya is so proud of her that he thinks about what his brother must have felt. Ultimately, he thinks about how his brother feels about this.

”Svetlana.” His voice suddenly shifts to a serious tone. “Talk. Outside.” 

Svetlana bites her lip, nods, and takes a sip of orange juice before following Ilya to the outside patio. Shane and Amaliya look at each other for a brief moment before going back on their plates. 

“So, um, what would you want to do or go to?” Shane asks, hoping to turn the tension around and away. 

“Hm, there’s something I would like to do.”

“Okay. What is it?”

“Are there nearby sugarbush here? I would like to experience how to harvest maple syrups from actual maple trees.”

Shane beams then he frowns, sadly. 

“There is one that my parents always bring me to every spring. It's owned by a relative on my father's side. I get to harvest two jars of maple syrup every time. Unfortunately, maple season begins around early February. Around this time of year, I think most sugarbushs are busy thawing ice on the ground so that the trees won’t have frostbite, which might affect the flow of the sap from the xylem.”

Despite the sad news, Amaliya does not look sad, rather, she looks enamoured with the anecdote.

“Hmm. That sounds interesting. You’re very close with your parents?”

”Yes. Very.”

”Do you have siblings? I don’t.”

”I don’t have either.”

She smiles, then swiftly changes the topic. “Well, hopefully, I get to visit here again. Trees are very fun to read about, you know?”

Shane’s eyes shimmer on that. “Really? I feel the same too. I do that about hockey too.”

Amaliya chuckles. “You are a one true hockey player, huh? I bet uncle Ilya read it to help himself sleep.”

Shane laughs. “Wow. You guessed correctly. How long will you and Svetlana stay here in Ottawa? Or Canada, in general?”

“Overnight, I think. I have some things to do in New York before I fly back to Russia.”

“Oh. I have to think of fun activities to do within the day to make your visit eventful at least.”

She smiles, appreciating that he cares. “Anything is fine with me. We can walk Anya around your neighborhood and that’ll be great for me.”

Shane shakes his head. “I have an idea. What do you think about aquariums?”

“Fun. Not unless there are kids running around, screaming and slamming their hands and faces on the glass walls.”

“Hm. There is an aquarium in Montreal. Montreal is at least three hours away.” He lets his mind hum, quietly. “How about skating outdoors?

”Depends on the outdoor area.”

Shane smiles because he feels the idea that he has, Amaliya will like it. “Rideau Canal Skateway is a great outdoor area for skating. Don’t worry, there are no bears near the perimeter. Just children skating or slipping on ice.”

”I’m sold.” She glances at the glass wall. “What do you think they’re talking about?” 

Shane glances in the same direction, seeing Ilya and Svetlana converse with their hands. “Not sure.”

Outside (whole conversation is in Russian)

“Please tell me you didn’t bring her here without Alexei knowing,” Ilya says, immediately voicing the number one concern in his mind.

“Wow, you did not just call me reckless,” Svetlana replies, incrediously. “You know me better than that, Ilya.”

He apologises, half-heartedly. “But does he know Amaliya is with you here in Ottawa?”

There’s a second of hesitation before she answers, “Yes.”

Ilya crosses his arms on his chest then looks at her straight in the eyes, which is the thing he does to coax the truth out of her. 

Svetlana purses her lips. “Alright. Truth is Alexei knows that Amaliya is with me in America, but…”

“But,”

“But he only knows that Amaliya is staying with me in Boston. He does not know that I’m bringing her here.”

Ilya lets out a long exhale as rubs his palms on his face. “He cannot know about this.”

“Ilya, he’s your brother, and you are his daughter's uncle. I don’t think he will take this the bad way if he finds out.”

“What makes you sure of that? You know him since we were kids, and how he has become when we grew up. He hates me, Sveta. If he knows that Amaliya reconnected with me, he could use her to get money from me. I don’t have a problem with him leeching money off of me because, but I cannot let him use Amaliya like that.”

His chest is heaving and his face red and his eyes are glassy. Svetlana knows that when it comes to family, it is always Ilya’s trigger point. She also knows that Ilya loves Amaliya so much, and, despite the hatred, he still cares about his brother. Alexei is a bad person, a hurtful brother, and an asshole of a husband but he tries his best to be a decent father to Amaliya. 

She walks towards him and holds him by the shoulders. “Look at me. Ilya.” When he does, she continues. “Alexei would rather hurt himself than ever, ever think of doing something like that to Amaliya. He loves her very much, okay?”

Ilya takes a deep breath before nodding. “Okay.”

She cups his cheek, caressing it, to which he leans on to. It has always been her way of comforting him.

“Let’s get back inside, hm? You disturbed my happy time with Shane’s delicious french toast.” She teases to lighten the mood.

Ilya smiles. “Sorry. Shane does make great french toast.”

Svetlana hooks her arm on Ilya’s as they begin walking. “You are one lucky bastard.”

“Yeah. I am.” Timingly, when he looks up, he sees Shane looking at him through the glass wall.

Inside

Shane’s eyes locked on their arms, hooked on one another. He only cuts it off when Svetlana unhooks her arm from Ilya’s as he pulls her chair for her. The white noise in his mind only subsides when Ilya touches his thigh as he sits on the chair beside him. Ilya also gives him a soft smile, which melts the tension in his mind.

Shane clears his throat, then says, “So me and Amaliya talked about where we can go to spend the day. What do you guys think of going to Rideau Canal Skateway?”

Ilya beams. “That place is great. I think you will like it there, Amaliya. They have a great light show and food and hot chocolate.”

“Sounds fun,” Svetlana says. “We can also speed skate, use the people as obstacles to make it more fun and challenging."

While Shane looks very concerned, the three are grinning mischeviously. 

It is agreed that the five of them, including Anya, will be going to the Rideau Canal Skateway at noon, and stay there until the lightshow, then go back to the cottage for campfire s'mores. It is also agreed that Svetlana will be canceling her booking on the hotel because Ilya and Shane insisted for her and Amaliya to stay over.

In the master’s bedroom, Ilya has Shane pressed against the cool bathroom wall. He is peppering Shane’s face with tender kisses, to which Shane sighs happily. 

Ilya stops to rest his face on the crook of Shane’s neck. “Thank you so much for this surprise.”

“You should be thanking Svetlana. I only know about her visit, but not about Amaliya.”

”How did you know Svetlana is visiting?”

”She got my number from Rose, then she texted me three days ago.”

Ilya lifts his head from Shane’s neck. ”Ah. So we’re keeping secrets from each other now?”

”It’s a surprise, Ilya. It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

”Hm, yes. A very good one.”

“Besides, I made a pinky promise to Svetlana.”

Ilya stifles a laugh. “That sounds like something Svetlana would make you do.”

They look at each other, lovingly, then share a sweet kiss. 

“You shower first,” Shane says, removing his lips from Ilya’s chasing ones.

“We can shower together, it’ll save time,” Ilya proposes with a glint of heat in his eyes.

Shane takes a deep breath as he counters his body from indulging into Ilya’s ridiculously hot idea. To his surprise, before he can open his mouth, Ilya says, “Right. Not now. We’re not alone in the house.”

Shane feels himself get wet at the thought of Ilya being a responsible guy. Maybe, just maybe, he can indulge Ilya with a little handy work. 

Ilya lifts his eyes to Shane’s. He sees right through him, so his playfulness decides that it is a great opportunity to tease him.

“Are you hard right now, Hollander?” 

Shane lets out a shaky breath then rests his head on Ilya’s collarbone. “I hate you,” he says, then he lifts his head and pushes Ilya away from him. “Go shower. We have to drive an hour to take Amaliya to the skateway, by the way.”

Ilya never obeyed as fast as he just did.

On the road to Rideau Canal Skateway

Shane drives since he knows the route to their destination. Ilya is in the passenger’s seat, Svetlana and Amaliya are at the back with Anya. Ilya asks Amaliya if she would like to connect her phone to the bluetooth stereo, to which she replies, “I don’t listen to music.”

Ilya lets out a dramatic gasp, partnered with a dramatic hand on his chest, as he turns on his seat to look at Amaliya, seated behind him. 

“Ne vse slushayut Bad Bunny, Ilya,” Svetlana says.

[Not everyone listens to Bad Bunny, Ilya.]

“Chto plokhogo v tom, chtoby slushat’ khoroshuyu muzyku?” Ilya retorts.

[What’s wrong with listening to good music?]

Before things escalate, Shane intervenes. “Deti, vedite sebya prilichno.”

[Children, behave yourself.]

That sudden Russian elicits a delighted squeal from Svetlana, and a wide-eyed reaction from Amaliya. Shane saying ‘behave’ definitely elicited more than a surprised reaction from Ilya.

“Shane, you didn’t tell me you speak Russian,” Svetlana muses, grabbing onto Shane’s seat to lean over the center console and face him. “Ty tol’ko chto stal yeshche boleye seksual’nym i privlekatel’nym.”

[You just became hotter and cutter.] 

Shane blushes on that. 

Ilya tugs a curl of Svetlana’s hair, making her yelp. “Otvali, on moy muzh,” he says sternly.

 [Backoff, he’s my husband.]

She turns to him to slap him on the arm. “YA prosto khvalyu tvoyego muzha. Uspokoysya, suka.”

[I’m just complimenting your husband. Calm down, bitch.]

“Sveta! Ty plokho vliyayesh’ na moyu plemyannitsu i Anya.”

[Sveta! You are a bad influence on my niece and Anya.]

“O, zatknis'. Kak budto Anya ne slyshala ot tebya i Shane veshchey pokhuzhe.”

[Oh, shut up. As if Anya hasn't heard worse things from you and Shane.]

“Vy oba, uspokoytes!” Shane’s authoritative voice fills the car and stops the bickering. “Yesli net, ya vysazhu vas oboikh na obochine dorogi.”

[Both of you, quiet down! If you don’t, I’ll drop you two on the side of the road.]

Ilya pouts on his seat. Svetlana folds her arms on her chest. Amaliya hides the big grin on her lips with her hand. She will definitely miss this kind of car ride once she flies back to Russia.

Rideau Canal Skateway

Finding a parking slot is difficult but Shane managed to get one two parking rows from the entrance. Ilya has Anya in his arms. He will be dropping her off on the Pet Lounge so that she can stay warm and not be overwhelmed with the crowd of people. Amaliya and Svetlana walk with Shane to the entrance, where they’re waiting for Ilya.

”Do you and Ilya always go here?” Svetlana asks.

”Yes,” Shane answers after fixing his grey beanie. “Sometimes with my parents. Sometimes with a friend of mine and his family of six. Their kids love Ilya so much.”

”Hm.” Svetlana smiles at the thought of four kids playing and goofing around Ilya. “Not to intrude but, if you and Ilya ever thought of it, I think you’ll be the best dads in the whole world.”

Shane feels his cheeks get warm. The thought of it has come across in his and Ilya’s mind, and they have had brief conversations about it as well. They both agreed that it might still be early for them to adopt but they also thought that they’re not getting any younger. 

Ilya walks up to them. Shane thinks that the white beanie with pompom is adorable on Ilya, it makes him look youthful. 

“Hey,” Ilya says as he puts a hand on Shane’s back. 

“Hey.” Shane leans on Ilya’s space. “How’s Anya?”

”She has a new best friend now. A fluffy cat that just sits on a pillow. Anya sits on a pillow next to the cat.”

”That’s an unusual friendship.”

”Yeah. Oh no, she will become boring now.”

”As if you don’t like boring.”

”I don’t. But you made me like it.” Ilya chortles, then lightly bumps his head on Shane’s. 

“Okay, lovebirds, can we skate now?” Svetlana tries to make her voice sound bored and impatient but the fond smile on her lips counters that. 

The four of them line up at the skates booth. Ilya is impressed with Amaliya knowing how to put the skates on.

”You skate in Russia?” He asks in Russian.

”Yes. I had a friend that competes in figure skating. They taught me how to skate and skate tricks.”

”You should show off some later.”

She’s shaking her head as she smiles, sheepishly. “I would if you would show off yours when we raced around those people.”

Ilya couldn’t hide his proud smile because of how big it is. He puts his palm up, to which Amaliya high-fives.

While Shane and Svetlana have their skates on, she asks him a question that caught him off guard. 

“Is Rose single?”

”Huh? Rose as in Rose Landry?”

”Da, your ex.”

”Oh. Well, last I heard from her, she is single. Why'd you ask?”

“Nothing. Asking for a friend.”

“The friend is actually her,” Ilya butts in.

They bicker again; Svetlana chases after Ilya on the ice, while Ilya blows raspberries in her direction. Amaliya and Shane watch as they skate calmly onto the ice.

“Are the trees here maple or plastic?” Amaliya asks.

“I think some are maple, some are pine, no plastics,” Shane answers. “The light show will be around six. We still have three hours.”

“We can skate, idly,” she prompts. 

“Can I ask you something?”

”Sure.”

”How is your English very good? I mean, your vocabulary in particular.”

“Ah. I watch some British shows, and some American ones as well. I adapted their accents and developed fluency over time.”

”That’s cool. No Canadians show in the ruster?”

She chuckles, then she surprises him by replying in fluent French. “Si je veux apprendre le français, je n'ai qu'à zapper sur une chaîne française de notre câble.”

[If I want to learn French, I can just switch on the channel on our cable to a French one.]

Shane smiles, impressed. “Le français là-bas est différent du québécois,” he replies.

[French there is different from Quebecois.]

Amaliya clicks her tongue. “Touche.”

Ilya and Svetlana skate towards them. Ilya slumps himself on Shane’s back, breathing heavily. Svetlana gracefully stops beside Amaliya, her arms crossed on her chest as she takes deep breaths.

”Are you done being a child?” Shane teases Ilya, to which Ilya replies with a muffled “Hmhmm.” Shane chuckled lightly, feeling fond of seeing this side of Ilya.

The four of them skate idly with the crowd. Ilya sticks beside Shane, holding his hand. He is a little sad he cannot interlock their fingers together because of their mittens, but what matters is that Shane is holding his hand in public. 

Amaliya shows off some spins, which garner a few claps from other people. Ilya has his phone on record the whole time. The most endearing part is when a little boy approaches her and asks her if she can teach him how to spin on ice. She teaches him, despite being sheepish and nervous because the boy’s mother is watching. The boy’s mother is a very sweet lady, though. 

“You’re so cute, moy malen'kiy figurist,” Ilya says to Amaliya as he keeps his phone in his jacket pocket.

[my little skater.]

”YA uzhe ne malen'kiy,” she replies. 

[I’m not little anymore.]

Ilya bops her nose. “You still are. I’m taller than you.”

”I’ll be taller someday.”

”We’ll see.” He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Now, who wants to race?” Amaliya and Svetlana both raise their hands. “Shane?”

”I’ll just time you guys,” Shane says, gesturing for them to go on without him.

”And here I thought the hockey player that set the record on the speed skill will prove himself true,” Ilya chirps. 

It is not that fact that arouses Shane’s competitiveness, but the cheeky, provocative smirk Ilya does. And Shane getting competitive titillates Ilya like nothing or no one has ever had.

”You’re on, Rozanov,” Shane says, implying a challenge.

Ilya’s smirk gets bigger. “Sveta, time us,” is all he says before standing next to Shane on the faint scratch of a starting line. 

Svetlana clicks her tongue. “Look at your uncles,” she says to Amaliya, “really taking their heated rivalry seriously.”

”You mean, that is their foreplay,” Amaliya says like it’s a matter-of-fact.

Svetlana gasps in delighted surprise. Amaliya shrugs with a cheeky smirk.

Amaliya’s point gets proven true because Ilya literally asked Shane in Russian if he will be fast in skating as he is in…for the lack of better word, cumming. Svetlana puts a hand on her face because of secondhand embarrassment. Amaliya startles them by whistling with her fingers and starting the stopwatch on her phone. Ilya and Shane giggles as they scramble on their skates while they push their feets and steady their momentum.

“Boys,” Svetlana says with a disappointed head shake. “Don’t settle with any boy that acts like those two idiots.”

Amaliya chuckles. “I think if I met a boy that is like either of them, I might settle with him. He will be childishly competitive with me on cooking and baking, but he is one of the few good ones out there. If I can’t find a boy, I can look for a girl instead.” She feels an arm pull her in for a side hug. 

Svetlana plants a sweet kiss on top of her head before saying, “Girls are definitely better. No boy deserves you.”

“But what if I also never found a girl and settled with a cat?”

”Cats are most certainly better. So better than dogs. Don’t tell that to Anya.”

Amaliya giggles. “Okay.”

The two racing rivals both have reached the bridge, where they will turn right at. After turning right, skating past people gets a bit tricky but they manage because they're professional hockey players. Avoiding people on ice while skating fast is basic to them.

Shane crossed the line, technically, first. He beat Ilya by a hundred of a second. Ilya, because he is known for his good sportsmanship, tackles Shane onto the side hill of snow. Shane lets out a yelp then a chorus of giggles as Ilya’s hands tickles his sides. 

Amaliya smiles, adoring the playfulness her uncles still have despite their age and, most certainly, despite their reputation. She has seen videos and read articles about them, when they were caught kissing behind a Montreal player who is making a video message to a fan. The initial reaction she had is anger towards the fan because that is such an asshole thing to do. Her second reaction is worry because she thinks about the pressure from the fans and the organization that could negatively affect her uncle, mentally and emotionally, as well as her uncle’s secret relationship with the captain of Montreal Metros. Looking at how things have been and how her uncle is, she is ultimately gleeful for him. Also, she feels very relieved to know that the Shane Hollander is the funniest, the sweetest person, and a great cook and responsible driver. 

“Amaliya, catch!”

“What–”

She does not get to finish speaking as she has to put her arms up to protect her face from a snowball. The culprit is, none other than, her uncle Ilya, who has his hands on his mouth as he covers the big smile on it.

She smirks, feeling riled up for a–

“Snowball fight!!” 

She shouts as she gathers snow on the ground and throws it at Ilya. He didn’t even cover himself, he just let the snowball hit him on the chest.

At the beginning, it was just the four of them, but some of the kids joined then teenagers, and parents, and other adults. Essentially, everyone joined the snowball fight. No one won. No one lost, either. Though there are some that got timed-out.

“Snowball fights are highly discouraged,” the snowball police says with a disingenuous voice of authority. He even stares down at the four ‘culprits’ with his stubby chin up, as if attempting to appear intimidating.

Ilya rolls his eyes so hard. “But it is not banned, right?”

“It will be because of what you did.”

“We didn’t invite people to join us, they naturally went along because it's fun and everyone does snowball fights,” Amaliya argues.

“Do you now know how dangerous it is to have a snowball fight while everyone is wearing skates? Someone could’ve been hit with a snowball ball and get injured,” the man argues back.

“Is there someone that got hurt or is complaining about the snowball fight?” Svetlana asks.

The man only opens his mouth but no answer comes out of it. He looks elsewhere to think of one, but Shane disrupts him, saving him his last bits of brain cells.

“Sir, if snowball fights are not banned but only highly discouraged, and no one gets hurt, I believe you are holding us with no solid case,” Shane says as he stands up. He is two centimeters taller than the man but he holds his chin up. “I can file a formal complaint against you to your higher up that you are the one disrupting the fun in this place. Or I can have the Svetlana Vetrova share her awful experience here and have this place lose two-thirds of its tourism, hm?”

The man looks at Svetlana and receives a pointed eyebrow raise. He staggers on his ‘intimidating’ facade that he grits his teeth and says, “Alright, I’ll let you four off this time. Just remember to not start a snowball fight ever again.” He didn’t even wait for Shane’s response. He just turns around and walks to his podium, grumpily.

“I believe we are now off the leash of that asshole,” Shane says as he turns around. Instantly, he is engulfed in a huge bear hug. He wraps his arms around Ilya’s waist.

“That was so hot,” Ilya mumbles as he lifts his nose from Shane’s neck to Shane’s hair, then inhales Shane’s seaweed scented shampoo. “I want hot chocolate.”

“Alright,” Shane replies whilst his hand plays with the curls on the back of Ilya’s neck. “I’m hungry after that race, let's get beavertails.”

Svetlana looks at him with genuine mortified expression. “You eat beavers’ tails here?”

“Hm, no, no,” Ilya says whilst lifting his face from Shane’s hair to look at Svetlana. “Beavertail is like a flat donut but with sugar or anything you would want to spread on top of it.”

“Oh. That is a weird fucking name for a Canadian flat donut.”

They walk towards the fair where foods, hot beverages, and souvenirs are. They fall in line at Little B’s Beavers and Hot Cocoas stand. After twenty minutes in line, it is finally their turn. 

“Shane, Ilya!” The old man behind the counter exclaims, joyfully, with his arms in the air. 

“Richie!” Ilya greets back with the same joy and big smile.

“Hi, Richie,” Shane greets with calmer joy and a smile.

“Oh, who are these gorgeous ladies? Is she your sister, Ilya?” He points at Svetlana, whose eyes are widened in surprise. 

She chuckles and answers, “No, no, I'm too gorgeous to be this manchild’s sister.”

Richie barks a laugh. “You sure are, but you have a similar sense of humor.”

“Whose is better?”

“I gotta say…yours. Sorry, Ilya.”

“Agh, I am betrayed,” Ilya says with a dramatic hand gesture of a stake to his heart. 

Richie then looks at Amaliya. “Is she your daughter?” That caught the four off guard. “I mean, I don't know how people do it now but she got Ilya's curls and height, and Shane's eyes and freckles.”

As flattered as his heart is, Ilya clears his throat and is about to correct Richie when Amaliya beats him to it.

“Um, actually, I am their niece, sir,” she says. She hooks her arms on each of theirs, pulling them closer to her.

“You make quite a trio, huh. Well, what can I get you three beavers and the gorgeous lady?”

Their orders:

Ilya - S'mores beavertail and hot chocolate with whipped cream

Shane - Cinnamon sugar beavertail and hot chocolate 

Svetlana - strawberries and cream beavertail and bougie hot chocolate (fancy way of saying it has vodka)

Amaliya - marmalade beavertail and hot chocolate 

The four of them sat on a bench, enjoying their beavertails and hot chocolates. It didn’t occur that the light show was just about to start. Loud drums from the speakers fill the air, gathering the attention of each and everyone. Then the instrumental of Frozen’s ‘For the First Time in Forever’ plays as streams of lights flash on the bridge. Everyone is ‘Oooohh-ing’, while some dance on the ice along with the rhythm.

Ilya finishes his beavertail and hot chocolate before he stands up and offers a hand to Amaliya.

“Skazhem tak, eto ya tantsuyu s toboy v tvoy vosemnadtsatyy den' rozhdeniya," Ilya explains.

[Let’s say, this is me dancing you on your eighteenth birthday.]

Amaliya puts her beavertail and hot chocolate down then takes her uncle’s hand. As they sway on the ice, she says, “YA by khotel, chtoby ty byl tam.”

[I wish you could be there.]

Ilya takes a deep breath. “YA tozhe, malen'kiy bobrik."

[Me too, little beaver.]

“YA schastliv, chto mogu provesti pervyy den' goda s toboy i dyadey Sheynom."

[I’m happy I get to spend the first day of the year with you and uncle Shane.]

Ilya feels himself get choked up with emotions. So he pulls her in an embrace, to which she wraps her arms around him tighter.

“They really missed each other,” Svetlana says after taking a sip of her drink.

Shane agrees. “They really did. I can’t imagine how Ilya must feel through these years. He does open up about it once in a while, but I think he gets sadder on the thought that he can’t see her or have any form of communication because of his…circumstance with his brother. Is he still a jerk?”

Svetlana chortles. “He is. Not to Amaliya. I think he tries to be…less of a jerk for her.”

”Hm. That sounds marginally better than him not ever changing.”

”Speaking of change.” She shifts to her right side so that she’s facing Shane, then rests her elbow on the backrest. “Ilya has changed,” she says, jovially. “He seems to have colors, pastel ones, but it is better than when he used to be just blue and gray.”

Shane lets that observation sink into him. He understands what Svetlana is saying. Ilya has been better recently; the therapy, medication, Anya, and being surrounded with people who love him, in and out of hockey. There were bumps but Shane is there beside him, cradling him or giving him distance, or just sitting next to him as he talks about what he feels or his thoughts. 

“He will not like to be compared to pastels.”

She chuckles. “He will definitely not.”

Ilya and Amaliya skate back to them when the first song ends. Another song starts: Baby, it’s cold outside. 

“Should we go home and make s’mores?” Ilya asks.

Initially, Shane is going to agree but then he gets an idea. He finishes his hot chocolate then folds the paper wrapper of his beavertail and puts it in the now empty paper cup of hot chocolate. 

“Let’s dance first,” he says, taking Ilya's hand and leading him to the circle of people dancing (or, simply, swaying slash spinning).

He puts Ilya’s arms on his waist, then his arms on Ilya’s shoulder. Ilya is taken aback because this is beyond their usual physical interaction in public; mostly it’s their shoulders touching, hand holding, hugs, or Ilya’s arm on Shane’s shoulders, some pecks on the cheeks (the ones on the face), that’s all. 

So this surprise dance is making Ilya feel all giddy that he can’t hold back the sheepish grin. He pulls Shane closer and says, “Someone’s being romantic tonight.”

“It has been a great day; We had a lovely breakfast, a chaotic drive here, raced around these people and I won, had a snowball fight, won an argument with the anti-fun police, and had the best beavertails and hot chocolates with the best people in the world,” Shane lists while his lips never falter from being giddy and his eyes never not looking in-love with the man he is dancing with. 

Ilya is no different; he looks at Shane with the same amount of great tenderness and love. He removes his right hand from Shane’s waist then lifts it to cup Shane’s cheek. He runs his thumb over the freckles that had him head-over-hockey-sticks from day one. 

“YA lyublyu tebya,” he says.

”YA tozhe tebya lyublyu,” Shane responds. He cups the back of Ilya’s neck and pulls him close so their foreheads touch.

[I love you.]

[I love you too.]

Shane lets out a shaky breath. “This feels so much better than my high school prom.”

Ilya scrunches his nose, confused. “What is that?”

”It’s like a dance in our school for students. It sucks because I don’t want to go but I had to because I accepted a girl’s proposal.”

Ilya is chuckling while he replies, “You are very kind for your own good sometimes.”

Shane agrees. When he leans back and gets to stare right back at Ilya, he leans forward again, but this time, to give him a sweet kiss.

“Did you also give your date a sweet kiss?” Ilya teases.

Shane snickers as he shakes his head. “Let's go home and make s’mores.”

“Okay,” is all Ilya says as he lets Shane pull him by the hand and lead them back to their bench.

Ilya volunteered to drive for the reason that Shane already drove them to the Canal so it's Shane’s turn to be the ‘Passenger Princess’. Shane obliges, no arguments. He let Ilya open and close the door for him, and have him take the keys.

Svetlana and Amaliya are the ones that picked up Anya at the pet lounge. They said that Anya sat next to the fluffy cat the whole time, sleeping in the process, and that Anya pouted and whimpered when they picked her up.

“Wow. Anya, has never been attached to any cat nor dog ever,” Shane muses as he shifts on his seat to look at Anya inside her puppy bag, looking very sad. He feels sad too.

“Don't worry, I got the cat's owners’ phone number, in case you want to plan a playdate,” Amaliya says, then she pulls out what seems to be a cat-shaped sticky note from her fleece’s pocket.

“Oh my god. Thank you so much, Amaliya.” Shane takes the sticky note she hands him. His smile suddenly fell as a thought came into his mind. “Wouldn't it be weird to the owners if I reached out to them?”

“I don't think so,” Ilya answers as he presses the start button, igniting the car's engine. “Just tell them we are the owners of the sweet dog that is stuck next to their fluffy but grumpy pussy.”

“Ilya!” Shane swats him on the arm, but can't hide the laugh he held back. Because that word in Ilya's accent is quite a funny combo.

“What? People call it pussy, what's the problem?”

Shane breaks, he laughs, having to cover his mouth with his hand. Svetlana and Amaliya are snickering. Ilya smiles, satisfied that his joke is well received.

“Just drive us home,” Shane says after wiping the corner of his eye.

“Yes, your highness.” He earns a slap on the arm (endearingly).

On their drive, Ilya looks over at Shane. When he sees him still awake, he says, “Anya found her Shane.”

“What do you mean?” Shane turns his head to Ilya.

“The fluffy, grumpy cat is Anya’s Shane.”

“Why's that?”

“The cat is boring, it does meditation like you do. Anya is fun and energetic like me.”

“Gee, thanks for the backhanded compliment.”

Ilya looks at Shane again; Shane is already looking at him with a lopsided grin.

“Anya gets sad when she's separated from the grumpy cat, like I do when I'm away from you.”

Shane felt his heart thumping on his chest. He lifts his left hand and places it on top of Ilya's that is resting on the gear stick.

“Girls, please stop flirting, I need some beauty nap,” Svetlana comments from the backseat. She has her arms crossed on her torso, her head resting on the headrest, and her eyes are closed. 

Shane clears his throat then lifts his hand from Ilya’s—but Ilya quickly grabs it then interlaces their fingers. Throughout the whole drive, Ilya holds Shane’s hand even when Shane dozes off.

Back to Shane and Ilya’s Cottage

When the car stopped in front of their house, every passenger had dozed off on their seats. 

Ilya turns off the engine and gently unlace Shane’s fingers on his, and placing it on Shane’s lap. He observes if Shane is stirring awake, but Shane is still napping, so Ilya grabs the house keys from the glove box as quietly as he can. He glances on the backseat and sees that all three girls are also napping.

He gets out of the car, opens the house, and turns on some lights. After checking if the guest room has the lights on, air-conditioning good, and the bed is neat. He goes back outside to the car, gets back in and gently wakes Svetlana.

She stirs awake. “Hm? Are we there yet?”

“Yes,” he says in a soft voice. “Your room is ready. Wake Amaliya. I’ll take Anya and Shane.”

They do that. Svetlana takes Amaliya to their room. Ilya carries Anya from her puppy bag to her puppy bed by the fireplace in the living room. After tucking her under the knitted blanket Yuna gifted her on her 1st birthday, he goes back to the car, to which he sees his husband still fast asleep on the passenger side.

He gently opens the door, stands near Shane, and drinks in his somberness.

“Shane,” he whispers softly, leaning his face forward. “Moya sonnaya koshka, prosnis’.”

[My sleepy cat, wake up.]

When Shane only moves his head to the side, Ilya smiles as he carefully snakes his left arm on Shane's shoulders, and hooks his right arm under Shane's legs. Very carefully, he pulls Shane onto his chest, then lifts him off the seat and into their house.

Shane only stirs awake when they've reached their room. He didn't fuss about it, because he usually does but he nuzzles on either the crook of Ilya's neck, or Ilya's chest. 

“You like carrying me bridal style,” he says as Ilya gently lays him down on their bed. When Ilya is pulling his arms away, Shane grabs one of those and says, “Lay with me.”

Ilya acts surprised but he feels his chest thumping loudly. “You like playing princess, huh?” He coax with the shit-eating grin that melts Shane into a puddle.

“You like it too,” Shane replies, with the breathlessness that is caused by Ilya leaning too close to him. 

“Yes.”

Ilya leans his lips to Shane’s eager ones and gives those a deep kiss. Shane chases his lips when he pulls back. “Wait. Let me close the door first.” He pulls his arms away from Shane and beelines outside to lock the front door, then does it again to their bedroom door.

“Ilya,” Shane says whilst tapping the space next to him and having a sleepy, love-sick smile.

Ilya complies, curling next to Shane. Their arms wrapped around each other. “Today is the best day of my life–no, um, second to our wedding. No, maybe third because first is when I met you, then our wedding. So third.”

Shane giggles. “The best day of your life is when you met me? You mean, when you were being an asshole to me when I told you that you should be smoking in the smoking area?”

“Yes, that day,” Ilya says between giggles. He turns to his stomach so he's laying on top of Shane. “I want to make love to you tonight.”

Shane lets out a small gasp. “Wow, poetic.” 

They are smiling giddily as they make-out. Ilya positions himself between Shane's legs, and grinds his hardening cock to Shane's, eliciting a gasp from both of them.

Ilya detaches his lips, redirecting it to Shane's jaw, Shane's neck, then Shane's collar bone. It leaves a wet trail while Shane grips the hair on the back of his head. He unzips Shane's Team Canada fleece, then the black pullover, only leaving the thin white inner shirt. His mouth waters on the sight of Shane's nipples being prominent so he leans down and starts mouthing the left nipple.

Shane gasps loudly that he has to cover his mouth immediately. His body is the one reacting loudly now–his chest arching up to Ilya's warm, wet mouth; his hands gripping on the pillow above his head; and his cock begging to be let out of his jogging pants.

After making the shirt wet in saliva, Ilya mouths on the right nipple next. At the same time, he reaches down and cups Shane's cock through the material that is beginning to be a hindrance for Shane.

Shane frantically tugs down his pants, to which Ilya stops him. He gives him a ‘What the fuck’ look, to which he receives a cocky smirk. Next thing he knows is Ilya mouthing his cock through his pants. His loud yelp is muffled by his hand, thankfully. After making his legs limbless, Ilya tugs his pants down. Only his pants.

Ilya grins and decides to be merciful by giving Shane a moment to compose himself while he takes off his denim jacket and black tank top.

“You're–You are such a tease,” Shane rasps, annoyed. But just one look at the man kneeling in between his legs blows off the annoyed look on his face. He ogled at Ilya's tan skin, golden curls, toned body, mesmerizing blue eyes, attractive facial hair, and the definitive outline of his hard cock on his gray sweat pants. Everything about Ilya makes him speechless, in a horned-up way. 

Ilya cocks an eyebrow at him, fully aware of his effect on Shane. “What? My cock got your tongue, Hollander?”

“Fuck,” is all Shane can manage to say before he reaches, desperately, for Ilya’s pants. He attempts to tug it down but he's pushed back on the bed. He couldn't even mutter a protest because Ilya pulled his cock out and licked the head before swallowing it whole.

Shane bites his lower lip so he can muffle every sound Ilya is getting out of him. He gets a moment to breathe because Ilya is (finally) pulling his pants and briefs down, enough for his cock to breathe. He strokes it, knowing Shane likes to watch him.

He rests an arm beside Shane's head for support as he lowers himself to be able to grab both his and Shane's cocks. Shane swallows thickly as Ilya begins to stroke their cocks. He wraps his hand beside Ilya's, stroking along him. In less than a minute, their precum smears his stomach.

They're both trying very hard to muffle all heavy sighs, quiet cries, and pleasured hums. When Ilya speeds up his strokes, Shane matches his speed. Together, they chase their highs. They latch their lips into a deep kiss to muffle their shouts. 

Well-spent and breathless, Shane spreads his arms and legs in all directions—sprawling like a starfish. On the other hand, Ilya pushes himself up and off the bed, heading towards the ensuite bathroom. He cleans himself then steps out of the bathroom to wipe Shane clean before Shane could even say that he feels sticky. While he is putting the soiled towels in the laundry hamper in the bathroom, Shane changes the comforter. Afterwards, they changed into their pajamas.

Ilya curls beside Shane, resting his head on Shane’s chest, whilst Shane strokes his hair. ”I don’t think I am ready for tomorrow.”

”Why? What’s happening tomorrow?”

”Svetlana and Amaliya’s flight is tomorrow.”

”Oh. They’ll leave around lunch, right?”

”Yes.”

”We can still have breakfast, us four. And s’mores too.”

”You will make campfire tomorrow morning?”

”Yes.”

”I thought sweets are not good for breakfast.”

”Yes. But I can make exceptions."

Ilya lifts his head then turns to Shane. “Thank you,” he pauses because his breath hitches due to the swell of emotions in his throat. “For everything.”

Shane uses his other hand to caress Ilya’s cheek. “It is just s’mores, Ilya,” he says.

Ilya shakes his head. “No. It is more than just s’mores, Shane.”

Shane hooks two of his fingers on Ilya’s chin, kissing him softly. “Good night.”

Ilya kisses him on the chin before saying, “Night night.” He snuggles back on Shane’s chest, and Shane holds him closer to his side.

Breakfast Campfire

There is a shift in the mood—a bit bittersweet but, also, domestic. 

Breakfast is good. Amaliya taught Ilya how to make an egg drop soup, Svetlana and Shane chats about their favorite smoothie combinations. After breakfast, they proceeded with the s’mores.

Shane sets up the campfire with Svetlana, while Amaliya and Ilya prepare the ingredients for s’mores. While setting up the woods and sticks, Svetlana takes this time as an opportunity to talk to Shane.

”Shane,” she starts, “remember when I was asking about Rose?”

“Ah, yeah. Are you really asking for a friend, or that’s just a cover-up?” He grins cheekily when she hides her cheeks behind the bunch of sticks she is holding. “I won’t say anything to her.”

”What will you say?” She retorts. “There’s nothing to say.”

”I don’t think Rose will be put-off if you ask her that question directly, and be subtle in your intention.”

“You don’t know that. You know nothing about girls, Shane Hollander.”

”Touche. But I know Rose, so,” he says with a cocky eyebrow lift.

“Wow, Ilya is rubbing off on you.”

“Well, Ilya likes to rub himself on me.”

“Ew,” she says, scrunching her face with disgust. 

He laughs. “You pointed it out, I just replied back. Hey, don't change the subject.”

She groans in defeat and bashfulness. “I don’t think she likes girls that way.”

Shane is just about to blurt ‘Um, actually, I might have made her give up on boys because every boy she dated since attending drama school are, apparently, secretly gay. The other demographic are boys who are jerks that didn’t take her stance for a serious relationship seriously, or can't handle her stardom because it hurts their ego’. He decided to keep that between him and Rose.

”You will never know if you never try to shoot your shot. I mean, me and Ilya are a good example of taking chances.”

She blows raspberries in his direction. “You’re idiots in love.”

He snorts. It is a good way to describe their relationship—nine years of acting like everything is casual when they’re internally battling their very not casual feelings for each other.

”Just try,” he says, looking at her and giving her an encouraging smile.

She looks at him, then takes a deep breath and says, “Okay. We should start the fire before Ilya steps out here and bitch about us not having a campfire.”

Back in the kitchen, where Amaliya organizes the bases on a square plate, and Ilya fills the bowls with the toppings.

”I’m going to New York,” Amaliya suddenly says while stacking the digestives next to the graham crackers.

It catches Ilya dumbfounded. ”For vacation?”

She shakes her head and says, “For college.”

”Oh.” He takes a moment to think about everything. “You are graduating high school this year, correct?”

”Yes. But I’m submitting documents now. That’s why I am with aunt Svetlana in Boston. That and getting used to the American lifestyle.” She hopes that it will somewhat lighten the tension.

Ilya chuckles, slightly deflecting the ache in his chest. “You really want New York? You didn’t think of, I don’t know, Montreal, Ottawa, or some city here in Canada? There are good schools here too. Shane, probably, knows those best.”

She bites her lips. In truth, she did think of Canada, however, in reality, she knows it'll be just a beautiful idea. “I know, but I don't think papa will allow me to.”

Ilya clenches his jaw at the mention of his brother. No matter how much he hates Alexei, he still has to honor him as Amaliya’s father, and from how Amaliya has come to be, he cannot deny that Alexei is a good father. Not perfect, but being better than their father and better than being a brother to Ilya is a big thing.

He quietly agrees. “So we keep this as a secret, then?”

“Wouldn’t be hard. Secrets are your expertise.” 

“Wow, genetic. You are my niece.” He stretches his arm to pull her in a sidehug, which she returns with both her arms. Then he ruffles her hair, making her squeal and slap his hand away.

”My braid!” She groans while patting the ruffled strands down.

”Come here, I can fix your hair.”

”You know how to braid?”

”Da, I grew up with a sister.”

”You have a sister? I thought you are papa’s only sibling. Is there a third sibling, like a half- or step-sister?”

Ilya chuckles. “No, not like that, but somewhat close. Svetlana is the sister I never had, and the best friend I never thought I could have.”

She hums, understanding. “She taught you how to braid.”

”Yes. And I’m very good at it. You can ask Hayden’s daughters. Hayden is Shane’s best friend. He has three daughters, and I braid their hair whenever we get together. Hayden is shit at it.”

She scoffs with endearment. 

“Alright,” Ilya claps his hands then rubs them together. “Let’s get these out. They might be finished with the campfire. I’ll fix your hair outside.”

The cool January air compliments the warmth from the campfire, as well as the heat coming from the s’mores. Shane puts blankets on the tents he and Svetlana also put up to make it a more cozy outdoor getup. Svetlana and him are in the purple tent, while Amaliya and Ilya are in the gray tent.

Shane watches, in fascination, Ilya braids Amaliya’s hair with the level of masterfulness he sees when Ilya braids Ruby and Jade’s hairs. Amber is still growing her so Ilya only gives her the pigtails. He can’t help but picture Ilya with their own kid someday.

They enjoyed the rest of their winter morning with breakfast campfire s’mores. When the marshmallows are all gone and the campfire has burned out, they all went back inside, helped Shane rinse everything before loading into the dishwasher, and then heading to their rooms to get ready for the flight.

Standing in front of the sink and holding his toothbrush, Ilya hasn’t felt this desolate for a while. Last time he felt like this was when Shane still played for Montreal and they had to keep their relationship a secret for years. A gentle hand caresses his shoulder.

“Let me,” Shane says as he gently takes the toothbrush from Ilya’s hand. He puts toothpaste on it. When he turns to look at Ilya, he puts the toothbrush down to cup Ilya’s tear stained cheeks.

No words need to be said. Shane pulls Ilya in a hug and runs his hand on his back to soothe him as he takes a deep inhale of Shane’s scent. The coconut scent on Shane effectively calms him down.

They get dressed together. Ilya wears Shane’s gray knitted cardigan on top of Shane’s old Metros sweatshirt. Shane knows that Ilya usually does that when he is driving Shane to the airport back when Shane still plays for Montreal, and they will be weeks apart.

Amaliya and Svetlana are by the kitchen table with their luggage when Ilya and Shane step out of their room. Anya is rubbing herself on Amaliya’s legs.

”Anya is saying that she will miss you,” Ilya says. “She does that to Shane too.”

Amaliya picks Anya up in her arms and hugs her. “YA tozhe budu skuchat' po tebe, malen'kiy angel.”

[I will miss you too, little angel.]

Ilya scratches his left eyebrow as he feels his eyes shake. In his best neutral tone, he says, “Let’s go. The airport is pretty far. We don’t want you to miss your flight.”

Drive to the Airport

Once all luggages are loaded in the back of the convertible, and everyone is buckled up, their drive to the airport begins. Shane sits at the back with Svetlana; Ilya drives; and Amaliya sits at the passenger seat.

It might be the longest drive that Ilya has ever driven, and has done this a dozen times with Shane before. Maybe because it felt similar.

”I forgot to mention, I have a black cat in Russia,” Amaliya says to Ilya, breaking the silence.

”You do? What is its name?”

She snickers as she replies, “I think you’ll find it funny.”

“Why?” he muses; a smile forming on his lips.

”Boston.”

It takes a minute before Ilya realizes why Amaliya thinks he would find it funny. “Did you name your cat after my former team?”

”Yes. Papa gifted the cat when I turned fifteen, telling me that I used to ask for a cat when I was younger. I specifically kept asking for a black cat because Boston’s jersey color is black and you play for Boston at the time.”

“Hm. You should rename your cat ‘Ottawa’, then.”

She shakes her head. “No. Maybe my second cat.”

Ilya nods. He feels lighter now. “Maybe when you start college in New York, and me and Shane will play there, we can meet up sometimes?”

”I would love that.”

Time flies. One minute they are on their drive to the airport, and another minute they are already on the airport.

Ilya carries Amaliya’s duffel bag, while Amaliya carries Anya on the puppy bag. Meanwhile, Shane pulls Svetlana’s luggage bag while Svetlana has her arm hooked on Shane’s.

“I will miss you both,” Svetlana says. “Maybe you more than Ilya.”

Shane chuckles while Ilya frowns as he reacts, “Hey, I thought I’m your best friend.”

”Shane is my best friend now. You, just a friend.” Then she blows raspberries in his direction, which he reciprocates as well.

As they reach the floor where Flight Check-ins are done, they stand on the side of the entrance. Amaliya gives Anay a scratch behind the ear, and says, “Your dads are getting old so look after them, okay?”

“We’re not that old,” Ilya retorts, chuckling. “We’re the same age as Svetlana.”

“Okay,” Svetlana says, incredulously, “that’s the most offensive thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“It’s true.” He shrugs. 

She hits him on the arm, then she pulls him for a hug. They were giggling one second, and next they’re taking deep breaths.

“I’m happy you’re happy,” she says as she leans back and meets his glassy eyes. Deep inside, she is happy that Ilya is not restraining his emotions anymore. “Take care of Shane. And let him take care of you, okay?”

“Okay. Keep me updated on your things in Boston, hm? Sorry that we’ll beat Boston in the playoffs then win the Stanley Cup.”

“Of course.” She turns to Shane and goes to him, giving him a hug. “Thank you for the talk at the campfire.”

“Will you try?” 

“Maybe.” Then they pull apart, smiling. “I’ll text you. You saved my number, right?”

Shane nods. “Pinky promise?” He puts his pinky forward.

Svetlana hooks her pinky to Shane’s, sealing the promise.

Amaliya steps forward to Shane. She plays with the strings of her hoodie as the nerves suddenly catch on her.  With a deep breath, she speaks.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to attend your wedding. I didn’t also know when it was so I just heard about it from the news articles. Um, I don’t know what to give to newlyweds but I made you, guys, these.” She pulls something out of her hoodie pocket, then gives it to Shane.

It is a blue box, and inside there are two beaded bracelets with number beads. The bracelet with blue and white beads has the number 24, while the one with black and red beads has the number 81. 

“Ilya, look at these,” Shane says, showing the bracelets to him.

Ilya immediately understands—it is a couples bracelet. Amaliya made him and Shane a couples bracelet with the colors of their (previous) teams and their jersey numbers. 

“I put your jersey numbers to make it lowkey. The colors are outdated, heh. I’m not even sure if those fits. Though I—“

She is cut off by Ilya pulling her in a hug. Ilya lifts an arm to pull Shane in as well. The three of them hug each other.

“YA tak tebya lyublyu,” Ilya says, though muffled because he kisses the top of her head. “Ne mogu poverit', chto tebe skoro ispolnitsya vosemnadtsat'.”

[I love you so much. I can’t believe you’re turning eighteen soon.]

They lean back but keep their arms on each other.

“Thank you so much for the bracelets,” Shane says, sniffing a little. “These are the best wedding gifts.”

She sniffs as tears gather on the corner of her eyes. She says to Shane, “You’re welcome. Glad you both love those. I will miss you and your french toast.” 

Then she turns to Ilya and speaks in Russian. “I will miss you and the fishtail braid you do to my hair. I will try to recall how you do it so that I can do it myself when I’m in Russia, or in New York.”

Ilya lifts his hand to run it on the fishtail braid he made on Amaliya’s hair. “You’ll learn it in a few days. You're a fast learner like your uncle.”

“Oh yeah? You mean uncle Shane?”

Ilya pretends to ruffle her hair, which makes her put her hands on her head to block his hands. She goes behind Shane, using him as her shield.

“Shane, step away. I am offended by my niece, I shall revoke the braid.”

Amaliya squeals ‘nooo’, whilst Shane uses his hand to hug Ilya away.

“Shh, there, there,” Shane coos Ilya while giggling at Ilya’s grinning face. “Amaliya didn’t mean that. She just said it to rile you up, just like you do to me.”

“Okay, okay,” Ilya says with his palms up. “Well, you should, uh, check-in now.”

Amaliya gives him another hug. “You’re the best hockey player there is,” she says. “The only one comparable to you is the man you married.”

“That is something we can both agree on,” he says, then kisses the top of her head. “Text me when you board, okay?”

She nods. “I will. Take care of yourselves, okay?” She waits for Ilya to nod before looking at Shane, who also nods, affirmatively.

She walks towards Svetlana.

“You ready?” Svetlana asks.

“Yeah. Let's go.”

They wave goodbyes at each other. 

“You ready to go home?” Shane asks Ilya.

Ilya thinks for a second then shakes his head. “No,” he says in a quiet tone. “Can we stay until they check-in?”

Shane looks at him, but he is looking in Amaliya and Svetlana’s direction. With a gentle hand on Ilya's shoulder, he replies, “Sure. Just tell me when you want to go, ‘kay?”

Ilya nods and hums affirmatively.

Drive Home

They stayed until Svetlana texted Shane that they're checked-in and will be heading to the waiting area near their boarding gate. She also texted to go somewhere or do something that can comfort Ilya before going home. Of course she made Shane pinky promise to not tell Ilya about that text.

Shane drives this time. Ilya sits on the passenger side with Anya napping on his lap. Doing what Svetlana requested him to do, Shane does it in the most subtlest way.

“Um, would you like to go somewhere first? Anywhere. Or is there a food you would wanna eat tonight? I'll cook it if we have the ingredients, I'll probably order it if we don't.”

Ilya knows where all these ideas are coming from. He didn't say anything about it. “Can we stop by David and Yuna’s house?”

“Ah, sure. Can you text them? Just to give them a heads up. No, uh, call them.”

Ilya hums then pulls out his phone from the pouch of Anya’s puppy bag, and dials David. “Yello,” David greets through the phone. It makes Ilya smile. Shane sees it, so he smiles in relief. 

“David, hi, this is Ilya.”

“Ilya, hey. Why are you calling through Shane’s phone?”

“Shane is driving. We, uh, just dropped off my niece and my friend from Russia at the airport. Can we stop by your house?”

“Of course. Oh my god, this is perfect. I was thinking about making a meringue dessert called pavlova. It’s a Russian dessert, and I saw a video on youtube on how to make one.”

Ilya chuckles softly. “I thought you were monitoring your blood sugar.”

David scoffs. “You’re starting to sound like him.”

”Who?”

”Shane, of course.”

”Oh.” He pauses as he puts a hand, instinctively, on his mouth to cover the blush on his cheeks. As if David will see him blushing over that.

He hears David clears his throat then asks, “What time will you and Shane be coming over?”

”Uh, around dinner time, maybe.”

”Alright. Well, I’ll start working on the pavlova. Do you have any special requests for dinner?”

Ilya thinks. “Can you make soup?”

”Soup? You gotta be specific about which soup, buddy. But the menu available for today is any soup I can make with eggs, carrots, chicken, cream dory, and some cartoon-shaped pasta noodles.”

”That is good. Maybe chicken soup with cartoon noodles."

”Okay. Noted. See you, guys. Shane, drive safely!”

“I do drive safely, dad!” Shane retorts with a grin. “See you soon,” he adds.

David and Yuna’s House

Ilya was quiet the whole drive, which Shane respected. Ilya even fell into a nap. He looks so peaceful that Shane hesitated to wake him up when they reached David and Yuna's house.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Ilya, we are here.”

Ilya stirrs awake, inhaling deeply then nodding. 

They step out of the car and walk to the front door. Yuna is the one that opens the door for them. She smiles at them, but she senses something must have happened when Ilya linger on their hug. Ilya puts Anya on her bed by the fireplace that has her favorite bone chew toy. 

Yuna leads them to the dining table where the chicken soup that Ilya requested David greets them. Ilya feels comforted by the smell of it. 

The four of them eat dinner while waiting for the pavlova to set. Ilya does his ‘shoulder shake’ as he tastes a spoonful of soup. Shane, who is sitting next to him, has a relieved smile on his face. 

“You are a true soup expert, David,” Ilya says whilst refilling his bowl for the third time.

David has a proud smile. “Thanks. I hope I won’t disappoint you with the pavlova. Speaking of, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take a look if it’s good to serve now.” He pushes his chair to stand up then pushes it back before heading to the kitchen.

“He has been learning to cook some Russian cuisine lately,” Yuna tells them. “Very keen on cooking other stuff besides chicken parmesan.”

“Chicken parmesan and soups are fine. I’m not familiar with much Russian food, so.”

“Well, you will get to eat as many as he can manage to cook now, so get used to it,” Yuna says, grinning. “Though, I know you love my spaghetti the most,” she says in a low voice. 

Ilya feels his chest swell. This day has been a lot of emotions, emotions that he is neither familiar with nor accustomed to handling them. With a sheepish grin, he replies, “Yes, no one can make spaghetti like you, not even David.”

David enters the dining room with the pavlova. ”What? Why was my name mentioned?” 

For the first time since the car drove from the airport, Ilya lets out a laugh. Shane’s eyes dilate upon hearing it then seeing Ilya with a big smile. 

“Nothing. That's the pavlova?”

David beams and nods as he puts it on the center table. “We don’t have many berries so I added apricot, apples, and oranges, instead. I don’t know if that’s a normal selection in Russia but I think they’ll work.” He puffs a nervous laugh whilst rubbing his nape.

Yuna puts her hand on David's shoulder, giving him a comforting squeeze. David looks at her and he drops his hand and puts it on top of hers, squeezing it as a way of quietly appreciating the encouragement.

Ilya takes a sip of water. “I’ll be the judge of that,” he says with a cheeky grin. “Uh, how do you cut it? Do you cut it like cake with knife or we do ‘spoon and scoop’?”

David sighs, also thinking about that. “I’m not sure, but the youtube lady used a cake slicer to cut it then used a big spoon to serve it. Maybe a ‘spoon and scoop’ will work.”

Ilya shrugs, David shrugs, and they both agree on the ‘spoon and scoop’ method. David puts a spoonful serving on each of the four small plates Ilya hands to him, which then Ilya takes again to give Yuna, Shane, himself, then David.

Everyone loves the pavlova. David is proud of himself, but mostly glad that Ilya enjoys his first pavlova made by him. To see Ilya give his pavlova a ‘shoulder shake’ of approval is everything for him.

“So, uh, you mentioned on the call that you and Shane drove a friend and your niece to the airport,” David brings up. “When did they visit?”

”You had a niece?” That part is what Yuna focuses on.

Shane gently taps his shoes on Ilya’s as Ilya is quiet for five seconds. He is about to speak for him, but Ilya taps him on his shoe and answers David’s and Yuna’s questions.

”My friend and my niece flew from Boston to here yesterday. It was a surprise, Shane is part of it.” He glances at Shane, Shane is already looking at him. “Can you believe Shane kept a secret to me?” 

Shane chortles. “Ilya, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I let you know.”

“Hmph,” he pouts.

“Then they’re flying back to Russia?” Yuna asks.

“No,” Ilya answers. “They’re flying back to Boston because Amaliya, my niece, will be looking for college in New York before flying back to Russia.”

“Oh. What will she study?”

“Cooking and baking.”

Yuna chirps in delight, while David beams.

“That’s a great choice! Oh, I think I have a friend in New York who owns a bagel shop. Maybe my friend can let her stay at their place, and have her intern at the bagel shop as well.”

Shane clears his throat then says, “Mom.”

Yuna’s smile falls on a line because she recognizes that tone where Shane is signaling her to pause. That confuses her for a second, then she remembers–Ilya has a complicated family dynamic, in which he limits himself from sharing, and for others to not wander onto.

“Oh, sorry,” she plasters an apologetic smile to Ilya. “I just got so excited with the thought of your niece. I also have a niece on my father’s side, but she is around your age.”

Ilya shakes his head. He gives Yuna a small smile, and says, “It’s okay. It’s just that yesterday was the first time I saw her since my father died. I didn’t get to see her anymore after I left Russia and…cut off my brother.”

It is quiet on the table for a moment.

“How–how old is she now?” David asks, breaking the silence.

“Seventeen,” Ilya answers. “She is tall like me. She is on my shoulders.” He pushes his chair back to stand, and then he puts a hand on his shoulder to show how tall Amaliya is when she stands next to him.

David smiles. “She’s a tall girl, then. Shane is at the same height he is now when he was seventeen.”

Ilya barks a laugh while Shane looks offended.

“Still pretty taller than average, it’s okay,” Ilya says as he takes his seat again. “Perfect height for me to kiss him on the cheek.”

Shane’s eyes widen as he blushes on that sneaky flirty comment. David and Yuna hum, agreeing with Ilya and in delight on seeing their son blush like that.

“Do you have photos of her?” Yuna carefully asks. To her relief, Ilya beams as he excitedly pulls out his phone and shows her and David the photos.

After dinner, Shane volunteers to wash the dishes with Yuna while Ilya and David clean the table. David told Ilya to stay in the dining room because he has a new puzzle set that he wants to show to him. 

While waiting, Ilya leans on the frame of the entrance to the kitchen, watching Shane make his scrunched expression when he is squeamish while avoiding the food residue to come in contact with his skin even though he is wearing gloves. Then there's Yuna, smiling fondly at Shane scraping the leftovers onto the compost bin. 

“Ilya,” David calls from the dining table. He gestures for him.

“That is the new puzzle?” Ilya points at the box as he walks towards David.

“Yeah. It’s a limited edition.”

The puzzle is limited edition because the image it’ll form is only a photo that exists in Yuna and David’s digital camera—the image is the first family photo with Ilya, taken on their first Christmas together at Shane’s cottage.

“I had it custom-made,” David adds. “It was supposed to be our Christmas present but it took some time to finish—oh.”

He didn’t get to finish his explanation because Ilya wraps his arms around his shoulders for a hug. 

“Sorry,” Ilya says as he unwraps his arms and steps back. He lowers his head in an attempt to hide the tears threatening to come out.

David reaches for his shoulder to give a comforting tap. When Ilya lifts his head to him, he prompts, “Would you like to show this to Shane?”

Ilya nods. David gives him the puzzle box and watches him excitedly show it to Shane. 

Yuna invites them to sleepover.

“Come on, you two will be busy again,” she says, putting on her doe eyes for Shane because Ilya is already beaming at the proposition.

Shane sighs and nods. Ilya claps then pulls him by the hand, leading both of them upstairs towards Shane’s old bedroom. Something about him moving around the house as if he also lived there for years makes Shane feel cheesy. 

They changed into their clothes that they decided to put in Shane’s closet so that whenever they chose to stayover they will have clothes. They also have their toothbrushes in the bathroom at the end of the hallway, where they brush their teeth together.

Ilya sits on the edge of the bathtub, watching Shane do his nightly skincare routine. He occasionally teases him that he does not need those cleansers, serums, and toners because he is naturally pretty. Tonight, he does not tease him.

When Shane is finished putting moisturizer on his face, Ilya stands up and walks to him. Silently, he slithers his hand on the back of Shane’s neck, making Shane turn his head to him. And then, he places a feather kiss on Shane’s lips.

”I love you,” Ilya says on Shane’s lips. “YA tak sil’no tebya lyublyu.”

[I love you so much.]

Shane hums, completely enamoured every time Ilya declares his love in his native language because it feels like Ilya is pouring his whole heart and soul to him. In return, he also pours his entire heart and soul to Ilya.

”Je t'aime aussi. Je t'aime tellement, Ilya.”

[I love you too. I love you so much, Ilya.]

Ilya shudders, which makes Shane smile drunkenly in love. 

“I really should start studying French.”

“I can teach you some French, like how you taught me some Russian.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They go back to Shane's old bedroom (technically, their room now). Laying on Shane’s old bed, and having their bodies pressed on each other makes Ilya feel better. Having dinner with Yuna and David already made him feel better, but to feel the warmth that the Hollanders have unconditionally given him feels like a dream he never thought was possible to come true.

He moves his head to press his nose on Shane’s hair, taking a deep breath.

”Shane.”

”Hm?”

”What is the word for feeling happy but also sad?”

”Bittersweet?”

”Hm, yes, maybe that is the word I’m looking for.”

Shane hums in reply. His thumb rubs circles on Ilya’s arm, and says, “It is okay to feel bittersweet. Maybe we can Facetime them tomorrow.” He feels Ilya smile on his hair.

”I would like that,” Ilya replies.

“Okay. Spokoynoy nochi, moy mishka.”

[Good night, my teddy bear.]

“Spokoynoy nochi, moya rukavichka.”

[Good night, my mitten.]