Chapter Text
Ilya’s feet poke out from the water from where’s balancing on his hands. The clouds hide the sun, but Ilya has gotten quite the tan since he first got here. He is beautiful, even when he’s acting like a child at a swimming pool. His wondrous and playful side was one of Shane’s favorite endearing qualities about him. He’s witnessed this part Ilya hides from the world a lot lately.
“Is this where you do yoga, or up there?” Ilya asks from the water.
“No, I do it inside. The producer wanted me-“ Shane stops. Realization dawns on him. “Wait, you saw that?”
Ilya shrugs and runs his hands through his wet hair. “Yeah, it was very good. I needed help sleeping.”
“You’re an asshole,” Shane says.
“How’s the water?” Ilya asks, swimming closer.
“You’re in it,” Shane says, confused.
“Yeah, but I want to know how you like it,” Ilya says. Shane stares at him apprehensively, spotting a lie underneath but can’t feel it. Sure enough, Ilya splashes Shane, covering him in water.
“Fuck you!” Shane shouts. “What if my phone was in my pocket?”
“Ah, it’s not. You left it on the table,” Ilya reassures. “It’s been ringing all morning.”
Shane rolls his eyes, shivering in the cold wind. It was probably Hayden calling for a more thorough catching up. Shane honestly can’t remember what Hayden told him on the phone. He was too distracted by Ilya. “You’re still an asshole.”
Ilya swims to the rock Shane is perched on. Shane fights a smile as Ilya kisses his ankle. Ilya stands and licks his lips, and his hands grip Shane’s thighs. Shane puts his hands on Ilya’s arms, falling into that automatic need to touch when Ilya is close. His skin is freezing, and Shane uses him for balance.
“Give me kiss,” Ilya says with his teeth bare.
“You’re cold,” Shane grumbles, and leans in anyway to kiss him. Ilya flops back into the water. Shane wipes the water off.
It’s close to dinner time, and they head back to the cottage. Shane gives them both towels to dry off and shield from the cold breeze. “Do you want pasta from last night or hot dogs?”
“Hot dogs.”
“Okay, they’re gonna have to defrost a bit,” Shane says.
Ilya grins. “So we have a little time.”
Shane blushes. “Maybe. What do you have in mind?”
“Nothing that’ll take too long,” Ilya murmurs. He presses Shane into the glass window. He cages him in, and Shane’s hands are already caressing his neck and jaw before leaning for a kiss. Shane’s back softly hits the window, and Ilya goes with him, not allowing any space to separate them. His hands roam down Shane’s body, kneading his ass over the swim trunks. Ilya’s fingers are wrinkled from the water, and they’re both cold and wet. It’s perfect either way, doesn’t at all dwindle any of the heat starting to stir in his gut. They probably smell terrible, and Shane will definitely want to shower before doing anything. Maybe they could take a shower together…
Ilya’s eyes are a dark blue when he breaks the kiss. His smile is small but tender, and Shane smiles in return. He still can’t get over the fact he’s at his most favorite place in the world, where he feels the most himself and safe, and he’s with his soulmate.
But then Ilya’s smile falls, and he jumps back. His hands rip away from Shane’s ass like he was burned, and he grabs Shane’s arms. He’s looking past Shane’s shoulder, and Shane follows his gaze.
His dad is staring at them. He has something in his hand, and he’s looking at him and Ilya. Shane is frozen where he stands, and he watches in horror as his dad rushes out of the house.
“Oh, fuck.” Shane closes his eyes because this can’t be real. This can’t actually be happening right now.
“Maybe you should…” Ilya tries.
He really doesn’t want to do anything. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
Shane doesn’t move. Ilya tries to get him to look at him. “Do you want me to?”
“No, no,” Shane stops him. He opens the sliding door with arms that weigh ten times their actual weight. Shane stumbles through the house, legs feeling like both jello and iron, uncertain if he wants to catch up with his dad or delay the inevitable.
His dad drives off before Shane can get to him. Shane clutches the towel and watches as his life collapses in front of him.
He’s both hot and cold, and he throws the towel off his shoulders. He can’t fucking breathe, and he stuffs his face into a pillow. “Fuck. Fuck, this is a fucking nightmare.”
He pulls himself off the couch, but he keeps his head down, desperate for some sort of stabilization. His head is spinning, and he watches with his eyes closed as every single possible ending to this fucking nightmare pounds in his mind. His heart is beating too fast or too slow - he’s not certain. He’s nauseous and dizzy, and he slowly stands straight.
“Shane,” Ilya says quietly.
His legs are unsteady. His body doesn’t feel like his own. “Oh, fuck, this is a fucking nightmare.”
Shane takes a deep breath, but it does nothing. He closes his eyes and puts his hands behind his head. The room is spinning. “Oh, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”
Shane puts his head on the wooden post, a little hard, and it hurts.
“We should go talk to him,” Ilya calmly suggests.
“Yeah, what if he doesn’t want to talk to me?” Shane pushes off the wall. “What if - Fuck, my mom!”
Shane is pretty sure he’s about to topple over, and he puts his hands on his knees.
“Hey, hey, hey, they will talk to you,” Ilya reasons.
“Yeah, but I fucking lied to them,” Shane argues, standing up again. He stares at the floor with his hand squeezing his hip for something to ground him with. “For so many years, I fucking lied to them, and now my dad just walks in on me with my fucking soulmate. Who I lied about not having met.”
Shane still can’t make eye contact, but he needs Ilya. He doesn’t know what for, but he’s fucking scared and everything hurts. “This is my fucking nightmare.”
Ilya is watching him with concern and poise, and it’s the way he’s not freaking out that pulls Shane to him. He looks him in the eye. “This is my actual fucking nightmare, Ilya!”
“Okay, Okay.” Ilya nods, maintaining composure. The sunlight cascades over his curls and bright eyes, and he shouldn’t look this good while Shane is having a fucking panic attack. “Then maybe it’s time to wake up, yes?”
Shane closes his eyes because everything is too much right now. The wind outside is too loud, the sun is too bright even with the cloud cover, and his heart is beating too fast. Ilya is making too much sense, and he reaches for him. He clings to Ilya, and Ilya holds him close. “Fuck, I’m scared.”
“Yes, it’s scary.” Ilya rubs his back soothingly. “But you’re brave.”
“Shut up.”
“You are, you’re brave,” Ilya implores. “My soulmate is very brave.”
“I feel like I’m gonna die,” Shane mutters. He pulls back from the hug. He stares at Ilya’s necklace. “So much for easing them into it.”
Ilya looks at the front lawn. “Maybe…maybe he didn’t even notice. Hmm?”
There was not one ounce of confidence in his voice. Shane gives him a long look, before he chokes out a laugh. It’s enough to break out of his panic and find a goal in the chaos to level him. “Okay, I’m gonna get changed. I’m gonna drive over. And then…and then fuck! What am I gonna say?”
Shane rests his forehead on Ilya’s. Maybe this fucking soulmate connection can transfer some damn courage.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Ilya asks tentatively.
Shane’s head springs up. “Would you?”
Ilya almost looks offended. “Of course.”
“Okay,” Shane sighs. He rests his forehead back on Ilya’s. “Okay.”
Shane is becoming more like himself, and he goes a little lightheaded now that he wasn’t on survival mode and fighting for air. His legs give out, and he clings to Ilya as he squats at his feet. He presses his cheek to Ilya’s clothed thigh, and he lets Ilya’s soothing hands in his hair and shoulders shut off his anxious thoughts.
Ilya does it again in the car. He covers Shane’s fidgety hand with his own, planting sweet kisses on his knuckles, and the weight pushes back his remaining frazzled nerves. The mollifying physicality combined with the pleasant tug of his soul intertwining with its other half makes his head buzzy, and he’s grateful the drive is only one long street.
It’s not until he’s standing in front of his parents that he begins to freak out again. He holds himself together, at least does his best at it, and watches as his mother side-eyes Ilya like the stranger he was. More proof of how little his parents knew their son because Shane lied to them for so long.
His dad is trying to apologize, as if this whole thing was his fault. “It’s okay, Dad. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have found out that way.”
“Found out what, exactly?” Yuna asks.
Shane rips off the bandaid. “I’m gay. Which I was gonna tell you soon. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
His parents are speechless. He can’t remember the last time his mom has been unable to articulate words.
“Yeah, and this is Ilya,” Shane awkwardly introduces. “Rozanov. But you already know that.”
“Hi,” Ilya says flatly. Shane hasn’t seen him nervous before.
“He’s visiting and we’re, uh.” Shane’s head goes blank. Should he say soulmates? That is too much, right? Too shocking? He can’t breathe.
“Lovers,” Ilya finishes, giving him an out.
Shane grimaces. That’s worse. “No, Ilya, that’s gross. We’re soulmates?”
Yuna’s mouth falls open, and he catches her glancing at their exposed forearms. “But you hate him.”
“No,” Shane says. “I mean, I get that, but no, I actually, uh, I love him.”
His mom is looking at him a little bit like a stranger, and he hates how true it was. In this case, they are strangers because he hid this from them forever. It wasn’t even necessarily about Ilya and soulmates, but the fact he was gay and never told them this huge part of himself.
Nobody is saying anything, and Shane can’t look at anyone. “I did not want this to be how I told you. Uh, I’m sorry. Can we just sit down, please?”
Yuna makes them all coffee, and they gather at the kitchen table. “I think we thought maybe you were gay.”
Shane’s stomach drops. “You did?”
David cuts in. “I think we thought it was certainly possible.”
“For how long?”
“Mm, for a while, I guess,” Yuna says honestly.
“We both know you pretty well, Shane,” David says. “I mean, what we did not suspect was that you were so friendly with Rozanov.”
“Ilya,” Ilya gently requests.
“Ilya, sorry.”
“I know, it’s a long story,” Shane says.
“When did this happen?” David asks. Shane and Ilya don’t answer right away, too unsure how to go about this. Then David’s eyes flicker with realization. “Wait. The All-Star game. You two had so much chemistry. You were in sync, moved in tandem like a machine.”
“No, it was before then,” Shane admits, staring at the corner of the table. When they ask when it all started, Shane has to paint a picture for himself to explain the timeline correctly. “Since our, uh, rookie season.”
Yuna’s eyes widened. “Since your rookie season?”
“No, it’s not true,” Ilya argues, very serious. “You lie first time before that.”
Shane shakes his head. “Not helpful.”
“Before?” Yuna again asks for clarification, more shocked.
“The summer before,” Ilya says, as if Shane wasn’t the one who lied. “You lie about them waiting for you. My arm tingled.”
Yuna’s voice grows grave, flabbergasted at the news. “So you’ve been in love since-”
Shane and Ilya both say no, no, no, nothing like that. Ilya says a little too much, and Shane freezes in horror, reeling as Ilya stammers out a weak attempt to explain fuck buddies. He doesn’t know if he’s relieved or stunned when Yuna nods in understanding, as if any of this makes sense and wasn’t traumatizing. Unfortunately, David wasn’t reading the room.
“Lovers,” his mother tells his dad.
“Okay, no one is allowed to use that word again,” Shane pleads.
The air is getting thicker by the time Yuna switches coffee for alcohol. Shane swallows a sip of vodka and grimaces.
“I mean, you never let him win, did you, Shane?” Yuna asks, worried.
The question might as well have been a stab to the chest or a car running him over. He’d rather have Marlow slam him into the wall again. “Do you let Dad win at cards?”
“I’d rather die,” Yuna says.
“I let him win,” Ilya says suddenly with a straight face.
Yuna sucks in a breath, stupefied, eyes widening and mouth gaped. David looks more shocked than when he caught them making out.
“No, he didn’t,” Shane hisses. He slams his arm on the table and yanks on his sleeve to reveal Ilya and his horribly timed lie. Yuna sighs and slumps in her chair once she reads the treacherous words. “That’s not funny.”
Ilya chooses that minute to drink his vodka, hiding his amusement.
“So is your plan to, what, just keep doing this in secret until you both retire, or?” David asks.
Ilya looks at Shane, letting him decide. “Probably. I don’t know.”
“Probably, yes,” Ilya admits.
“Oh, no, that’s sad,” Yuna says sympathetically. “You two are soulmates. You shouldn’t have to hide or be reduced into anything less.”
Ilya looks away. An ache grows in Shane’s chest. “I know. We know. We just can’t come out and, like, announce it.”
It’s quiet, until David turns to Ilya. “Ilya, I gotta say, I’m surprised. You have such a reputation as a ladies’ man. There are lots of people who do not let the mark dictate who they spend their life with or change the way they live. There is nothing wrong with that, of course.”
“Mmm. It’s not untrue,” Ilya agrees carefully.
“Ilya likes both,” Shane explains.
“It’s true, I’ve been with many women, but I have only been in love with one person,” Ilya says with a sincerity that makes Shane’s face warm.
His mom peers at Shane’s left arm to see the truth in Ilya’s statement. Her gaze softens.
“Same here,” Shane says. “Only one.”
Shane hates dealing with this without touching - hates going long without physical contact with Ilya in some way. It gets painful. He brings their feet together. Ilya nudges back. Butterflies flutter in Shane’s stomach.
Yuna excuses herself to go outside. After a moment, Shane grabs her coat and follows her out the door. She smiles at him with eyes brimmed with tears, and he helps her put on the coat.
There’s so much to say, but he has no words to put together. Nothing clicks. No words are good enough. How many times has his mother told him he’s not a liar? She was confident her son always told her the truth, when really all he had to give her was half-truths and diversions. He tried to be a liar, even though he didn’t want to be, and then he couldn’t stop because he needed to fit in. He desperately needed to fit in, click into place with everyone else around him. Be the best at hockey, find his soulmate far into his career, marry her, and have kids. All the normal things. It’s all he ever wanted, and he failed. His soulmate was a man, something he had no control over, no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t want a life without Ilya.
“Mom,” he croaks. “I need you to know that I did really try. I tried really hard, but, um. I just can’t help it, and I’m sorry.”
His vision is blurry, and he stammers out random words that he thinks sound good. He guesses they’re adequate to explain why he tricked her, and how badly he wanted to make her happy.
His mom shakes her head, eyes wet with tears. “Oh, no, you have nothing, nothing to apologize for.”
Shane shakes his head. His eyelashes are wet on his cheeks.
“Look at me,” she pleads. “Look at me.”
Shane looks everywhere but her. When he finally gathers the courage, he meets her watery gaze. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like you couldn’t tell me. I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to hide your soul from me.”
Shane swore his chest cracked in two, and all the pressure that’s built up his whole life rushes out. It pulses under his skin, giving him space to breathe.
“Hey,” she says softly. “I am so, so proud of you. Okay?”
She’s nodding, and all he can think to do is copy her. The boulders on his chest slip off his shoulders, giving way under his mom’s nurturing gaze and acceptance. She asks him to forgive him, and he melts in her hug. He felt light.
“I forgive you, Mom,” he tells her shoulder. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Yuna tells him, holding him tight. “So much.”
She pulls away to check on him. She wipes at his tears. “Are you okay?”
Shane nods and wipes his eyes.
“All right.” She exhales one deep breath. “Okay, enough. All right, what’s the plan?”
Yuna is in her element during dinner. Ilya inhales his pasta like it’s going to run off, while she explains emergency statements in case anything leaks. She makes plans to reach out quietly to premium brands, listing each one and the opportunity they’d both be interested in biting into if done right. Shane tries to reel her in, but there’s no point once she has a list of objectives. Shane and her were the same in that department.
“I know a few good lawyers who specialize in soulmate residency and expedited immigration,” Yuna goes on. “We could get Ilya Canadian citizenship in six months? Eight at the most. Of course, you have to provide evidence and bond authenticity. Three witnesses can replace actual photo or video proof.”
“Mom, can you just take three steps back, please?” Shane begs, overwhelmed. “I’m not gonna come out or anything yet.”
Shane looks at Ilya, who smiles with pasta sauce on his face. He doesn’t know how he can eat during a time like this.
“We just want a future. I don’t know,” Shane finishes.
Yuna gives Ilya a complicated expression. “You play in Ottawa?”
“Yes. We would be closer, and with the charity,” Ilya replies, before taking another large bite.
Yuna doesn’t look much happier. “And you have no loyalty to Boston?”
“Jesus, Mom!” Shane groans.
“What? They drafted him.” Yuna turns to Ilya. “You would leave Boston for Shane?”
Ilya nods like it was simple. “Yes.”
Yuna makes a face. Shane sighs. “Mom.”
“Loyalty is important,” she explains like they were arguing over two things that held the same amount of importance.
“He’s trying to be loyal to me, not Boston,” Shane says. She makes another face, and Shane groans. Ilya is laughing into his food. “My mom cares a little too much about hockey.”
“Now I see where you get it from,” Ilya teases.
David brings up Scott Hunter, and Shane learns Ilya talked to him after the award show. It was all becoming a little real. His dad mentioning Scott Hunter, and how he came out as gay. Ilya saying he talked to him at one point. Maybe not about him and Shane, but the fact they had some sort of conversation is mind boggling and unexpected. He’s sitting with his parents and Ilya at once, talking about the future and what all needs to be done. It was still a lot to process. Reality hits him all at once.
Shane’s ears ring, and the utensils are too heavy. He scoots his chair back to put his head on the table. He needs to focus on his breathing, calm his rapid thoughts and anxiety threatening to pull him apart.
He didn’t realize everyone stopped talking.
“Shane,” Ilya says. Shane can’t get his mouth to work. “Shane,” he repeats, slightly more concerned.
“I’m okay,” Shane gets out. “I’m just freaking out. I’ll be okay in a second.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Ilya says calmly. He rubs circles into Shane’s back. “We’re good here. Your family is here. Your boyfriend is here. You’re good here, okay?”
Shane pauses. Boyfriend. It didn’t hold as much weight as soulmate, not as important or pressing, but it was a title that meant relationship. Soulmate was a precursor, including prearranged obligations and duties. It was expected to be with your soulmate.
They already chose each other before accepting their soulmate bond. But boyfriend? That was a choice and a new separate promise.
“My boyfriend?”
Ilya fidgets in his seat, probably didn’t mean to say it or think much of it. “I mean, yes. I think so, probably.”
Ilya brings a hand to Shane’s chin to kiss him. Shane’s stress flows from his shoulders. Ilya is right. Everything is okay. He can breathe. He has everyone he loves in this room.
It’s not until they get in the car to drive back to the cottage to enjoy the rest of their time together, that it hits Shane how real this is. How possible everything might just be. He can have his soulmate and his family. He can have it all.
His heart and soul are full. They pound away, thriving and alive.
They can do that. They’re safe with Ilya.