Chapter Text
October 2020
It wasn’t often that Shane ended up in the park on the outskirts of downtown Ottawa. Montreal had left after their game yesterday, but Shane made up some excuse about seeing his parents so he could stay behind. This morning, he’d driven down to an old trail he used to run as a teenager that ended at an elementary school field. It was a Saturday, so there wasn’t anybody around except people like him and they weren’t likely to bother him anyway.
“Excuse me?” a voice interrupts his thoughts and he looks up. There’s a woman standing by his bench, looking incredibly nervous and glancing around like she’s trying to make sure there’s no one around, “Sorry to bother you, but you’re Shane Hollander, right?” Shane resists the urge to sigh. He’d appreciate being left alone, but she’s being polite, so he nods.
“Yeah, I am.”
“I thought so,” she looks around again, keeping her voice low, “I’ve been trying to reach out to you. I DMed you, but I don’t think you check those, but I gave it a try anyway. I also emailed you last night, so I’m not sure if you got it yet, but then I saw you and figured I’d come talk in person. I’ve got something to show you I think you should see. It’s about,” her voice lowers even more with one last glance around the empty park, “Russia.”
A shot of adrenaline courses through his body when her implication registers and his breathing starts to pick up. The woman notices and sits down, “Sorry, sorry. It’s not– I didn’t mean to make you freak out. Here.”
She pulls out her phone and after tapping for a minute, “My little sister is a big fan of hockey players. Not hockey, just the players. She’s seven, that’s not important. But I bought a cameo on fanmail from your friend, Hayden Pike, for her birthday next week. But when I got the video…” she trails off and hands Shane the phone with the video cued.
Shane watches his friend wish someone named Camille a happy, happy birthday. A few seconds in, in the background, are Shane and Ilya. Their arms are around each other and Shane watches Ilya lean in and kiss him, once, twice, three times. It’s not crazy or wild, but it is a video of them clearly in a relationship. Shane’s hand is trembling and the girl takes her phone back before he can drop it.
“Shit,” he says, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat.
“I promise no one else has seen it, I haven’t shown it to anyone or posted it anywhere,” she’s saying, almost frantic in her explanation. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not–” Shane can’t breathe. He wants to comfort this girl, promise that he’s not mad at her, but he can’t breathe. He wants Ilya.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Actually, I could really use Ilya right now,” he bitterly laughs through his attempts to get his breathing under control.
“Doesn’t he live here? In Ottawa?” She’s right. Shane scrubs at his eyes and face.
“Could you meet me at his house?” Shane asks, a vague plan forming in his head. This is something that needs to be shared with his boyfriend, “If I gave you his address?”
“Yeah, here,” she hands her phone back over with maps already pulled up. Shane puts Ilya’s address into the bar and hands it back. “Oh! My aunt lives down the street. I’ll park at her house and walk over.”
Shane feels relieved. He hadn’t considered that having a random car show up could be weird to the neighbors, “Yeah, thank you.”
She nods and stands up. Promising to see him soon, she walks in the direction of her car in the parking lot. Shane gives her a few minutes before following. It takes everything in him not to speed home, breaking every traffic law on the way back to Ilya’s. Instead, he focuses on not dying while the video replays behind his eyelids every time he blinks. There was something specifically about it that was bothering him more than Hayden carelessly sending out a video with them in the background. He’d been too busy with his initial panic. Sometimes, when Shane drives in a panic, he’ll sit in the car until someone reminds him to get out and come inside. Today, he barely had his car in park before he was tearing off his seatbelt and running inside.
Ilya presents his smoothie proudly, faltering when he registers the panic on Shane’s face, “Hey, hey, Shane. What’s–” Shane flings himself into his boyfriend’s arms, burying his face into Ilya’s chest and letting himself heave. “Shane, hey, hey. Breathe, solnyshko, breathe. It’s ok, whatever it is, it’s ok.”
Shane can’t do anything more than shake his head against Ilya, trying to communicate that no, it won’t be ok. Didn’t Ilya understand? Before he can find the words, there’s a knock at the door. Ilya ignores it, or tries to, but Shane pulls back and pushes him towards it. In a hoarse voice, he says, “Double check who it is.”
Ilya does so with nothing more than furrowed eyebrows, peeking through the peep-hole. He’s not expecting to see a complete stranger holding a plate of cookies. Ilya turns to Shane, confusion on his face, but opens the door at Shane’s nod.
“Ah, hello?” He greets the young woman, “Come in, I guess?”
“Thanks,” she says, stepping inside quickly and out of the way so Ilya can close the door. He hovers behind her as they walk back to the kitchen where Shane is waiting. He catches his boyfriend’s eye and tries to silently ask what’s going on. Shane smiles at the young woman briefly.
“Hi, thanks for coming.”
“Of course, I brought cookies,” she gestures to the plate she’s set on the counter, “figured it would be a good cover for coming over.”
“Good thinking?” Ilya says, it comes out more like a question.
“Sorry, I just got here,” Shane says, voice trembling. Ilya hasn’t heard it do that in a long time and he wishes he knew why, “Can you explain to him? Please? Show him the video?” Shane stands suddenly, and Ilya can see how wide his eyes have gotten, “Oh my god, I’m being so rude. Do you want something to drink? We have coke, ginger ale, water, juice…” he frantically opens the fridge, harder than he means to, a few condiments in the doors rattling. Ilya’s not sure if he should intervene, but moves closer to Shane anyway. Ilya’s never seen this kind of frantic energy surrounding Shane before and it scares him. His boyfriend’s eyes are darting around, not stopping on anything for longer than a second before moving on. His chest is rising and falling at a rate not recommended outside of exercise and Ilya is considering googling if it’s possible for someone’s heart to explode from stress.
“I’m ok, thank you. You don’t need to– I should explain, huh?”
“Yes,” says Ilya, hand still hovering over Shane’s lower back, not quite touching, “I think that would be good.”
“My name is Cameron, it’s my little sister’s birthday next week and she’s obsessed with hockey players. So I went on fanmail and got her a cameo from Hayden Pike,” she shrugs, “because he’s the only one I recognized. When I got the video, I noticed something in the background. I’ve been trying to reach either of you since yesterday, but then I ran into Shane at the park and figured talking to you in person would be easier.”
Ilya feels his heart sink and finally lets his hand rest on Shane fully, gripping his hip and squeezing. Shane doesn’t relax into his touch, but the vibrating under his skin lessens.
“Here,” Cameron slides her phone across the counter, which Ilya catches. Pike’s face greets him and when he presses play, his voice grates on his ears. He sees it immediately, him holding Shane and pulling him in to kiss him sweetly a few times. The loving gaze from both of them is obvious, the kissing the cherry on top. Something about the way the camera shakes concerns him and he frowns. Shane’s breath catches when the video ends. Ilya puts the phone down for a minute, then directs Shane onto a stool. He picks the phone up and moves to stand at Cameron’s side.
“Is weird, yes? I am not imagining?” Cameron shakes her head.
“I think so,” she says, “I mean, yes, I think it’s weird. Look,” she scrubs the video back a few seconds, “watch his face and the way the camera moves.”
Ilya watches. He catches it, the moment the camera moves to catch them, Pike’s eyes dart to the side like he’s checking they’re there. The camera steadies with them framed almost perfectly in the background. Not to bring them to attention, but to make sure anyone watching will catch it and won’t be able to play it off as anything but it is. The camera shifts again and Pike’s eyes widen just a little before he moves the phone back to catch them again. Ilya’s fist clenches.
“He did it on purpose.” It’s not a question. Shane turns his head and blank gaze towards them and Ilya catches his eye, “Hayden did it on purpose didn’t he?”
Blood rushes in his ears, “I don’t know, Shane. But it looks like, yes, he did.”
Shane nods, turning his face away and wiping at his eyes before tears can fall. He’s not sure how to name the emotions rising in him. He feels overloaded and empty at the same time, like the time his car in high school had overheated so bad, the coolant had malfunctioned. Hayden was supposed to be his best friend. Not only that, he was one of four people that knew about their relationship, he was supposed to be safe. Shane knew his friend didn’t like Ilya, but there was only so much Shane could do without risking outing them. Ilya knew Shane’s reluctance to shut Hayden down more was because this was his exact fear. If Hayden decided he hated Ilya more than he liked Shane, he could expose all of their secrets. Shane had never considered that keeping Hayden in the loop would also give him perfect access to proof of their relationship. Proof he would leverage against them.
“He’s trying to make it look like an accident, I think,” Cameron says quietly. Shane nods, still not looking in their direction. If it looks like an accident, Shane won’t get mad at him. If someone else had received this video, or a similar one, and posted it, would Shane have even noticed how odd the video looked? Would he have forgiven Hayden? He hates to think about the answer.
Ilya clears his throat, but Shane tunes out the rest of the conversation, “Thank you. For telling us. And for not sharing it.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t do that. Being outed sucks, I wouldn’t take that away from you. Do you want me to send it to you?”
“Yes, please, here.” Ilya gives her his phone number and waits for the video to come through. He watches her delete it from her phone and her trash, waving it proudly when she’s done. “You said your sister’s birthday is next week? How old?”
“Oh, she’s turning seven, her name is Camille.”
“She likes hockey?”
“Hockey players, mostly. Doesn’t care about the game that much. Her favorite is Cliff Marlow, don’t ask me why,” she chuckles. Ilya smiles.
“Does she like us?” Cameron nods.
“Yeah, she actually…” she bites her lip to keep in a laugh, “She has these crochet dolls of several players. She likes to make her Rozanov and Hollander dolls kiss. She likes to make all of them kiss, but you two aren’t allowed to kiss anyone else unless she’s concocted some story that requires it.”
Ilya barks out a surprised laugh, “Your sister is very smart. Wait here.” With that, he walks away, going searching for something.
Shane tracks him until he’s out of sight, then focuses on their guest, “Sorry, I’m being a bad host.”
Cameron shrugs, “It’s understandable. It’s a shitty situation. You know, when I was fifteen, I was outed to my parents. It was one of the worst weeks of my life and it ended with me being kicked out. I went to live with my aunt. Leaving my parents sucked, it was the only home I’d ever known. But moving in with my aunt was the best decision I made. I’m trying to say I get it. Being outed sucks, a lot. When I saw it, and I noticed how weird the video looked, I knew I had to figure out how to let you know. Either I was seeing things and it was an accident or I wasn’t. Either way, you needed to know.”
“Thank you,” Shane whispers. He clears his throat and stands, “Are you sure you don’t want a drink?”
When he pulls his own ginger ale out of the fridge, she nods, “Sure, ginger ale is fine.” Shane slides her one, “You know, it’s my second favorite. I prefer root beer, but usually ginger ale is an option if root beer isn’t. And it’s always good.”
Shane lets out a small laugh, “Yeah,” he eyes the plate of chocolate chip cookies, hesitates for only a moment, then picks one up and splits it in half, taking a small bite and sliding the plate over, “I know you brought them, but have one.”
She hesitates, but takes a cookie.
Ilya walks back into the room holding a sharpie and two cards in his hand, he holds up his and Shane’s rookie cards proudly, “I found our spares. We sign them for your sister, yes? Since she cannot see Pike’s message. We also send her video, next week.”
“You don’t have to–” Ilya cuts her off.
“Yes, you have done big thing for us. Let us say thank you,” Ilya signs his card then slides Shane’s and the sharpie over to him. “Also, she deserves better birthday message than Montreal’s 15th best player.”
“Thank you,” Cameron holds both signed cards gently. “Really, thank you. If there’s anything else I can do to help, let me know. You already know where my aunt lives, so,” she shrugs, “I’m not too far.”
Ilya ushers her out of the door with more gratitude and she waves goodbye, taking off down the street. He shuts the door and rests his forehead against the wood. Fuck, this was bigger than just a fan bringing them a video.
He heads back to the kitchen, finding it empty of his boyfriend. Ilya doesn’t have to search long before he finds Shane standing under the spray of the shower. He doesn’t react when Ilya strips and joins him. He doesn’t react when Ilya guides him through his routine. His eyes remain blank of any emotion or recognition. It scares Ilya to see his boyfriend like this. Ilya dries them off, taking his time trying to rub sensation back into Shane. He gets boxers on them, but doesn’t attempt pants, instead herding Shane into bed and under the covers. Once they’re pressed skin to skin, Ilya feels something wet on his bicep. Shane lets out a sob, pressing his face into Ilya’s arm and curling into himself. Ilya holds him tighter, letting his own tears fall. They fall asleep like that, exhausted and wrung-out, far too early in the day.