Chapter Text
There has been a tightness in Ilya's chest since he and Hollander last hooked up. Since Ilya kicked him out of his bed and didn't acknowledge him leaving the room. He doesn't know why it was different, he just knows that it was. That something was wrong.
Okay, that is a lie. A pretty big one. He knows exactly why it was different.
I didn't even kiss him.
Those words have been playing on repeat for three weeks and four days, along with a heavy dose of self hatred and deprecation.
Ilya didn't think it would be that big of a deal. In truth, Hollander may not have even noticed. Ilya thinks that might be the thought that kills him the most. Ilya's lips never touched Hollander's skin, and he may not have even noticed.
Ilya needs to get a grip. He can get laid anywhere, it's not like he's hurting for options. It's not like he needs Shane Hollander.
He just wants Shane Hollander.
All. The. Fucking. Time.
"Возьми себя в руки, черт возьми!" He mumbles at himself in the bathroom mirror.
It's not enough that they had to lose against the fucking Admirals, against Scott fucking Hunter, now he has to suffer through the lack of Shane Hollander in his arms.
His room. The lack of Shane Hollander in his room.
Not that Hollander would be here anyway, there would be no reason for him to be in New York.
He's about to tell Marley to get the fuck out of bed so they can go out, but Marley beats him to it.
"Yo, Montreal Jane is calling."
Ilya stops in his tracks. Of all the things that could have come out of Marley's mouth, he never would have expected that.
"What."
The cheeky grin on Marley's face falters as confusion sets in.
"Your girl in Montreal? That's Jane, right?" He chuckles and shakes his head as he passes Ilya his phone. "It was just a game man, don't be so hard on yourself. Call your girl back."
Ilya stares at the phone in his hand as if he's never seen the device in his life. It takes the clicking of the door as it closes to snap him out of it.
The ringing has stopped by now, but Ilya doesn't have time to debate whether he should call back before it's ringing again.
Something is wrong. Something would have to be for Shane to call him twice in a row. He's normally so paranoid and careful. As soon as the thoughts cross his mind, he has the phone to his ear before he can even realize what he's doing.
As soon as he hears someone pick up the phone he's frantic.
"Hollander. What is going on?" There is silence on the other end. Not even breathing. "Hollander, you are scaring me. Talk to me, are you okay."
More silence. Ilya's own breathing is picking up as his anxiety skyrockets.
"Rozanov?"
Ilya could swear his heart stops.
"Rozanov? How... do you know Lily or something?"
Ilya pinches the bridge of his nose, silently thanking any higher power for Hayden's stupidity.
"Yes, Pike." Ilya says clenching his teeth. "Lily is friend. Is Hollander okay?"
"Small world..." Hayden says slowly as if trying to wrap his head around the idea of Ilya being friends with someone in Hollander's circle. He has to stop himself from screaming at the man to tell him why he's calling. It would be suspicious, even more so than what is currently happening. "Is Lily there?"
God he wants to scream so bad that it doesn't matter. He takes a deep breath and says the first lie that he can think of. Believable or not. He needs to hear from Shane.
"She's walking her dog."
"...her dog?"
"Yes Pike! Her dog! Says bark and chases tail! Is Hollander okay?!"
Hayden is hesitating, and Ilya can understand. They are supposed to hate each other, obviously his best friend is going to hesitate before giving his arch rival details about something being wrong.
"Look," Ilya says trying to cool his temper. "Lily will kill me if she finds out that I hung up on you if something is wrong with the man she loves."
"Loves?!"
Shit...
Well, he might as well just lose his shit all together at this point.
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PIKE, IS HOLLANDER OKAY!?"
"Right, right. Uhm... no?" This time the silence on the other end seems contemplative, so Ilya waits for Pike to finish. "I don't know exactly what's wrong, but something is. I don't think he knows what's wrong either."
"Are you with him?"
"Kinda. We're at practice, he's not playing right. Coach told him to take a breather in the locker room. I went to check in and snagged his phone when I saw he was in the shower. I thought maybe if someone could help... he's always in such a good mood after being with ...Lily..."
Ilya doesn't let himself think about the tone of which Pike just said Lily. He also doesn't think about the butterflies that may or may not be fluttering around in his stomach at the idea of Shane coming back happy after being with him. No, instead, he keeps his mind on the issue at hand.
"What do you mean, not playing right?"
"He's clumsy on the ice. He seems almost tipsy, but everyone who knows Shane knows he rarely drinks during the season, let alone would come to a practice drunk. Lethargic, would be the best way to put it."
Ilya shakes his head in frustration. Not at Pike this time, at himself for not being able to understand. And as much as it's not the time for it, he doesn't want to hear Pike snark about it.
"Lethargic, I do not know this word. What is lethargic?"
"Right, sorry." Pike says calmly. "Like... tired kind of? He's unfocused and his eyes keep drifting closed. He's holding himself up like his body is heavy and staying upright is taking a lot of energy, and he doesn't seem to be paying attention to what's going on around him."
Sick maybe? It doesn't make sense as to why Hayden would call him if he were just sick. And Shane Hollander doesn't typically get sick.
"How long has he been like this?"
Pike lets out a long sigh. "I can't say exactly how long it's been this bad, but at least the last couple days. But he's been off for the past three weeks or so."
"Off? What do you mean off?"
"He's been more irritable than usual. Snappy and a bit mood swingy. And he's been complaining about headaches which I've never heard him do before."
No, Ilya hasn't either. He's wracking his brain for what could possibly be going on when something Pike said finally dons on him.
He's been off for three weeks or so.
Vegas was three weeks and four days ago. Exactly.
His brain is replaying the whole night in vivid detail when he hears Pike begin to speak in a more hushed tone than before.
"I just heard the shower turn off, I gotta sneak his phone back in. Look can yo-" he cuts himself off with another sigh. "Lily will help him, I think. But I swear to god, if my best friend gets hurt? I am flying to Boston and I'm killing Lily myself. Do you understand?"
Despite the threat that Ilya knows Pike means, he can't help but smile. Ilya doesn't care for the guy, but Shane does. A lot. And he knows Pike is a good friend to Shane.
"I understand."
"Good."
The phone call ends abruptly, and it takes every bit of restraint he can muster up not to throw his phone as hard as he can into the fucking wall.
He noticed how quickly Hollander dropped in the bathroom before they had even done anything that night. How could he be so selfish, so fucking narcissistic, that he didn't notice he wasn't okay when he left.
He knows the answer, of course. He was annoyed by Hollander's questions. He was frustrated that he couldn't answer them honestly. And he was absolutely determined to make what would turn out to be the worst mistake of his life by not fucking kissing him.
Ilya has a team meeting tomorrow. A debrief of the game followed by a practice at the rink. He's never missed a hockey obligation in his life, but at this moment he couldn't care less.
Shane has placed so much trust in him, and he fucking obliterated it. Ilya didn't take care of him. He didn't pay attention. For someone who prides himself on how perceptive he his, he neglected the one person he cares the most about.
If he weren't getting his things together in a panic to get himself to Shane, he would be shoving that thought as far back in his head as he possibly could. Right now he can't bring himself to worry about his fear of having fallen in love with the man. His only fear is that he hurt him beyond repair. That he fucked up his ability to trust. Not just in him, but in any future partner he may have.
Will have. Because Ilya just fucked up whatever it is they could be. He sent that up in flames and burned it to ashes.
But that's not what's important right now.
Ilya is so frantic, he doesn't even hear the door open.
"Woah," Marley's voice startles him. "Are you leaving? What's going on?"
Ilya has just enough presence of mind to keep Shane's identity to himself. "Something is wrong with Jane. I have to go."
"Okay..." Marley is looking around as if he's still confused. As if Ilya is being crazy. From his perspective he probably is. As far as a Marley knows, Jane is nothing more than a regular hook up of his. "She doesn't have anyone else who can help her?"
"No, Marley, she fucking doesn't! I have to go. Cover for me."
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Marley's eyes go wide. Clearly he's just now gathering that this is serious.
"Okay, yeah, man. Of course."
Ilya doesn't say thank you. He doesn't even acknowledge his best friend as he rushes out the door, slamming it behind him. He should feel bad about it, really, but Marley is well acquainted to his bad days by this point.
He barely recalls getting a taxi to airport. Or buying a last minute ticket to Montreal that he's sure cost a pretty penny. All he knows is that he was lucky enough to snag a same day flight. Now he's on a plane, his knee bouncing incessantly, a young man beside him giving him the eye.
He's on commercial because it's what they offered him and he jumped on it, but he can tell the man next to him recognizes him and is wondering why he's here. Luckily he scored a window seat, so he simply puts in his headphones and looks the other way.
Despite an average flight from Boston to Montreal being an hour and a half, Ilya could swear he's been in the air for at least ten hours. Ilya doesn't think his mind has spiraled this far for this long, maybe ever. And that's definitely saying something given the family he grew up in and his asshole of a brother.
Ilya can take anything they say about him. He can take his father calling him lazy and a shit hockey player whenever Boston loses a game. He can take his brother shouting slurs at him and demanding money to snort up his nose.
He cannot take what he's done to Shane. He can't take how much he fucked up. Which, again, is also saying something because Ilya Rozanov is known for being a dickhead and a fuck up.
It's just another part of his fucking brand.
Finally, finally, they land, and he's practically jumping up out of seat. Maybe after all of this is settled, he'll worry about the fact that he saw the man next to him taking a picture of him jumping up. Or the fact that he's sure there are more of him leaning against the window.
Right now, all he can think about is the fact that he's here. He's off the plane, in Montreal, walking through the airport where more pictures are surely being taken, and he has no plan.
He can't call Shane because he doesn't know if the man would even pick up. He doesn't know if he knows that Pike even called him. He can't call Pike because he doesn't know his number. He can't go to the Montreal rink because there is no viable reason for him to be there.
What the fuck is your plan, Ilya, his brain is shouting at him as he walks through the airport as fast as he can so he doesn't get stopped.
Luckily he doesn't have to go through baggage claim because he ran out of the hotel room with nothing but his keys, his passport, and his wallet, so he immediately breaks for the exit.
His steps fumble when he walks out to the pick up expecting to hail another taxi and making things up as he went along, but instead sees Hayden Pike leaning against a minivan.
"Rozy!" Pike exclaims with a faux enthusiasm that Ilya takes too long to understand. He's handing him a cover on a silver platter. "Good to see you, man!"
"Yes," Ilya says, doing his best to match Pike's fake excitement but missing by a landslide. "You too."
Ilya is grateful that Pike doesn't try for any kind of physical affection, and gets in the passenger side silently. It's not as awkward as he would have expected it to be as Pike gets in and navigates his way out of the hectic traffic of the airport. It isn't until they're on the freeway that the silence is broken by both of them. Simultaneously.
"Is he okay?"
"There were pictures circulating online..." Ilya hums in understanding despite having already figured this to be the case. "I don't know." Pike says honestly.
"You are taking me to him, yes?" Ilya says, probably more aggressively than he should.
Pike, much to his surprise, smirks. "Yes."
"What, what is that face for?" Ilya asks, because why not. They're here. He put them in this situation. And Pike is clearly past his shock of Ilya being Lily.
Pike's smirk as turned into a full on cocky smile, and Ilya has to admit the he likes this side of the player. He can imagine him and Shane teasing each other and competing and bantering.
"You know," he says never taking his eyes off the road. "I've been trying to get Shane to open up about Lily for fucking years now."
Ilya tries not to roll his eyes. "Oh, have you."
"Yeah," Pike chuckles. "Because I've never seen him as excited about life as he is when he comes back from her."
That is the first thing out of Pike's mouth that leaves him speechless. He said on the phone that Shane is happier when he comes back from being with Ilya. That, he can chalk up to satisfying sex. But excited about life?
"It's true, dude. Shane lives his life for other people. The man fucking loves hockey, obviously he's in this because he loves it. He wouldn't be the best if he didn't." Pike sends him a pointed side eye at that, but keeps going. "But especially on bad days? It boils down to a job. I'm sure you understand that better than most, but Shane's whole life is Hockey. Brand deals, dietary restrictions, media training, and fucking ginger ale. He doesn't get a break."
Ilya knows this. It's partly why he treasures the fact that Shane is, was, so submissive to him. He was the one who got to separate him from all of that. Release him from his mind a little bit, if only for a few hours.
Now, the smile that Pike shows is more sincere. "But fucking hell. When he would come back from meeting with Lily? He was genuinely happy. Shane always laughs and teases, but you can see that man's fucking soul through his eyes. And there's this spark that he gets sometimes. Where he's not just moving from day to day or obligation to obligation. He's an intense guy, but that spark? It's like when a child wakes up on Christmas morning. It's like he realizes that he can enjoy his life again, for him and not for everyone else."
Pike is babbling a bit, but Ilya finds that he doesn't mind. He's talking about Shane, and Ilya doesn't think he could ever get tired of hearing someone talk positively about Shane. He's not talking fast enough for Ilya to lose his understanding, and his words aren't overly complicated.
"I spent a long time wondering where it came from, because it was always coming and going. Then I finally realized that spark is only ever there after you-" He cuts himself off and rolls his eyes. "-after Lily. It was never there after anyone else."
"Just say it, Pike, the charade is over." Pike chuckles and nods his head. Silence settles once again, but Ilya's head is stuck on something and try as he might, he can't get it out. He clears his throat, and does his best to act like truly it's not a big deal. That he just wants to make sure he's understanding. There is a language barrier, after all. "Have there been many of... anyone elses?"
Pike lets out a full laugh now, and Ilya takes back his thought of liking him. He still hates him.
"He's had a couple girlfriends. Jessica was one I think? Or Jennifer maybe? I don't know, he's always correcting me on what her name was. Not long ago he told me she was engaged. And of course, Rose."
"Ah yes," Ilya says. "Rose Landry."
Pike pinches his lips between his teeth, not to let out another loud laugh Ilya is sure. "I always wondered why he was never more into her."
"Is that all? The two girlfriends?"
"If there was anyone else," For the first time Pike looks over at Ilya. His expression tells him he's being entirely serious. "He never said anything to me."
Ilya told Pike he could cut the charade, so Ilya might as well. "He never mentioned to you he was interested in men?"
"No." His answer is immediate, and it comes with a sigh that seems to mean he's glad it was said out loud. "I wondered, but no. He never said anything."
"You wondered?" Ilya asks. "Or you knew and were waiting for him to confirm?"
Pike chuckles. "I wondered. He never said anything about women, not really. A date here and there with Jennifer or Jessica or whoever she was. Going out with Rose occasionally when he was with her. He never joked about being sexual with them, but it was hard to tell if it meant anything or not. He doesn't really talk like that in general."
Another pointed look is aimed in his direction. "You know him, he's awkward."
"Yes," A smile forms on Ilya's face without him remembering to force himself not to. "He is."
"Okay, here we are." Pike puts the van in park and turns to look directly at him. "The code to the front door is 1919."
"Thanks, Pike." Ilya says a bit awkwardly. "This was... well. Thanks."
"Take care of him, Rozanov. I mean it. He's my best friend. And he deserves the fucking world."
"He deserves far more than that."
Ilya gets out of the car and walks to the door before he can think too long about the shock on Pike's face at his words. He did not expect to reveal so much of himself on that car ride. To Hayden fucking Pike. But he also can't bring himself care.
Because Shane is inside. And he's not okay.