Chapter Text
Shane glanced at his watch for probably the tenth time in as many minutes. His foot tapped against the floor, his right hand tightened around his phone. Through the window he could see the lights he knew would form the Boston skyline becoming brighter.
Ok. Almost there. He glanced at his watch again. How has it only been 45 seconds?
Shane rubbed his eyes as a headache began to form. Bright blue eyes and a crooked smile filled the black space behind his eyelids. Shane’s mouth quirked at the corners and he had to take a deep breath to keep from breaking into a full smile at the thought of the Russian.
The Russian he had been dying to see. The Russian whose bed he was supposed to sleep in tonight before sneaking back to the team hotel in the morning. The Russian whose team he had to play in 24 hours. The Russian whose bed he would try to be back in after said game.
The Russian he loved.
The Russian who didn’t know.
Shane sighed and forced his eyes back open. Through the thin space between the two seats in front of him, Shane could see JJ watching a reel on Instagram. How’d he get the wifi to work on this plane?
His eyes narrowed when he recognized Ilya on the screen.
The fuck?
JJ said something to Drapeau that earned a laugh, but Shane couldn't hear the words over the plane's engine. Shane watched as the reel started again and realized it was a compilation of Ilya with dozens of different women. JJ tilted the screen to Drapeau, allowing Shane the perfect angle of the screen.
Blondes, brunettes, redheads. Short, tall. Models, actresses. Women he was leading out of clubs, bars, restaurants. Women smiling up at him. Women he smiled down at. Women who had his hands on their backs, their waists, their hips, and in one particularly painful image, on her face while his tongue visibly licked into the woman’s mouth.
Shane felt sick. He unbuckled his seatbelt and slid over a sleeping Hayden Pike to the aisle. As he started forward, he was able to hear JJ’s words, “Lucky fucker has a woman in every city.”
“He’s such a fucking asshole, how does he even get them?”
“Some women like that. Maybe we should try, it’s working for him.”
Shane frowned and shoved himself up the aisle towards the bathroom. He squeezed into the tiny stall and braced his hands on the back of the door taking a deep breath.
You don’t get to be upset. He told himself. You know what this is. You know how this is supposed to go.
Shane looked at himself in the mirror and took another breath. He could see how drawn his face looked. His jaw was tight and his teeth were clenched. It was too obvious. He needed to get himself under control.
This is too much.
Shane stood there too long trying to get his face calmed. He only made it worse. Shane sighed and yanked the door open with entirely too much force.
He slid back into his seat, careful not to jar Hayden, then plopped down entirely too heavily. Their seats shook. Hayden’s head snapped forward, eyes wide. “Are we landing?” he asked sleepily.
"In a few, I think." Shane's voice came out sharper than he intended.
Hayden's eyebrow arched. "You good?"
Shane stared straight ahead. "Fine."
"You don't look fine. You look like you want to punch someone."
Shane's jaw clenched tighter. "I'm fine."
He could feel Hayden wanting to argue it but the flight attendant came over the intercom announcing the plane was starting his descent.
His mind raced through descent, barely acknowledging the plane’s wheels touching down. He pulled his phone from his pocket and turned off airplane mode, feeling the phone begin to vibrate as notifications filtered in.
He ignored the emails and app notifications as he moved his thumb to tap the ‘messages’ icon. Texts from his parents, from Rose, from Jackie. But nothing from Ilya.
We’re landing two and half hours late. I should already be at his apartment and he doesn’t give a fuck.
Shane locked his phone, shoving it back into his pocket.
Twenty minutes later he was standing at the baggage carousel, waiting for his luggage. Hayden was talking beside him but Shane wasn’t hearing a word. He couldn’t stop thinking about the phone in his pocket. He thought he’d felt it vibrate but was forcing his hands to stay away from it until they had at least loaded onto the bus.
He glanced over his shoulder, seeing the bus already at the curb. Close enough.
He fished his phone from his pocket, taking a tiny breath before unlocking it. He exhaled at the sight of a message from Lily. Ilya. It was delivered 19 minutes ago.
Lily: …you are still not here
Shane smiled softly, typing back quickly.
Jane: Flight was delayed
Jane: Going to the hotel now. Have a team meeting and then I’m free. Probably 3 hours
“Shane, your bag.” Comeau said, yanking a duffel off the carousel.
“Thanks, man.” Shane took the strap and pulled it to his shoulder. He looked back to the phone in his hand while he waited for his teammates to gather their belongings.
Lily: That’s forever
Lily: You could have team meeting on bus.
Shane could practically hear the pout in his voice, see the way he poked his lower lip out when he didn’t get what he wanted with Shane. The way he knew would make Shane lean forward and bite that lip.
Jane: I don’t make the schedule.
“Oh I see.” Hayden’s voice finally broke through Shane’s racing thoughts.
“Huh?”
Hayden gestured at the phone, “Boston Lily. That’s why you’re all…” he trailed off and waved his hand vaguely up and down Shane’s frame, “like this.”
“Like what?”
“Jumpy. Grumpy, a little fucking rude.”
Shane rolled his eyes. “I’m not any of those things.” he snapped.
Hayden laughed. “Yeah, convincing.”
“Shut up.”
Hayden laughed harder, “So what’re you two fighting about?”
“We’re not fighting.”
“No? Then what are you about to be fighting about?”
Shane sighed. “Nothing. There’s nothing.”
Because there’s a very real chance that we are nothing. Maybe I was wrong about the last few months. Maybe the calls, the facetimes, the texting, maybe it was just him filling his time.
Lily: But I want to fuck
Lily: I don’t want to wait 3 hours
Shane’s heart ached. He had to force his eyes away from the screen.
I want to fuck.
Not "I missed you." Not "I've been thinking about you." Not "I can't wait to see you."
Just “I want to fuck.”
That’s what it all boiled down to with Ilya. He wanted to fuck. It didn’t matter if it was Shane or one of the women from that stupid reel. He just wanted to fuck. And Shane was throwing off his plans for the night because he was going to be no less than five hours late to Ilya’s apartment.
He could get one of his other fuckbuddies to slide into the space Shane was currently leaving vacant.
The rage took him by surprise. Shane's knuckles popped at his sides as he squeezed his left hand into a fist.
The team loaded onto the bus, a loud ruckus of men laughing and talking too loud in such a confined space. Shane’s headache worsened. Between the noise and his rage, he imagined his blood pressure was through the roof.
Jane: Then don’t. If I’m not going to fill the time slot, go ahead and call another person on your roster. I can sleep 8 whole hours and be rested to beat the shit out of you tomorrow.
He hit send before he could think too much about the words he text. Shane reread them and frowned. He wasn't hiding his emotions well.
The three dots appeared, disappeared, reappeared and then disappeared again.
Shane frowned.
Jane: Make a decision
Once again the three dots appeared and disappeared countless times, minutes ticking by before three words finally appeared.
Lily: I can wait
What had he been typing? Why wouldn’t he say it?
Jane: Don’t put yourself out for me
Ilya replied immediately.
Lily: Shut up
Shane locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, his chest so tight he could barely breathe.
You’re being ridiculous.
The bus ride to the hotel was torture.
Shane stared out the window, watching the Boston streets blur past, resisting the urge to look at his phone again.
I want to fuck.
Not fuck me specifically. Just fuck. Just a warm body. Just someone available.
Just a hole to use.
Shane frowned, his eyes watering. Does he text the others like he texts me? Does he tell them that he misses them, wants to see them? If I looked at his phone would I see a dozen good morning texts sent every day at 8:45 Eastern time? Do they get random ‘thinking about you’ texts from him?
His phone was so heavy in his pocket.
It wasn’t until the room assignments were being handed out in the lobby that he finally let himself pull the phone back out.
Lily: What is this?
Lily: You are ok?
Shane’s stomach twisted.
Was he ok?
No.
No, he wasn't fucking ok.
He'd just seen a montage of the women the man he loved was fucking. Or had fucked. Had been fucking over the years and years Shane was falling in love with him. And now he was spiraling. He knew he was spiraling. He knew his thoughts were skewing more and more unhinged but he couldn’t stop it.
He could be just a hole for Ilya.
He very well could be calling in one of the women he has in Boston to fuck him before Shane can get there.
I don’t want to wait 3 hours
The elevator doors opened in the lobby and Shane stepped in, Hayden and JJ behind him. They were even louder in the confines of the box. Food. They’re arguing over dinner.
“Shane, what do you want to have?” JJ asked.
“Uh, I’m not hungry.” Shane replied.
“Oh, we’re in Boston.” JJ said, earning a raised brow. “You never come out in Boston. You have that girl here.”
Shane shot a look at Hayden, who laughed and held up his hands, “I didn’t say anything. But everybody knows you’ve got a little something in this city.”
“You have not been subtle, Cap.” JJ told him, clapping a hand on Shane’s shoulder. “You come back happy and relaxed. Few things are doing that quite so efficiently.”
Shane blushed darkly but the buzzing of his cell phone drew his focus back to the screen, now angled carefully away from his friends.
Lily: I can see you read it. Why are you ignoring me?
He’s waiting for you. He wants you. At least in this moment in time.
He was typing before he even realized it.
Jane: I’m not. At the hotel
Jane: heading to the team meeting soon
Jane: I’ll text you when I’m done
Please don’t replace me while I’m working.
Lily: …ok. This feels weird.
Lily: It has all felt weird.
Jane: The flight delay has just thrown me off. It’s fine. You’ll be able to fuck soon.
Shane reread his response, eyes narrowing on the last sentence. Why would I type that?
The elevator doors opened on his floor and Shane said, “You guys here?”
“No, one up.”
“Ok, meet you downstairs in a few.” Shane told them, stepping into the hall. He headed to his room, his bag heavy on his shoulder, his chest heavy with everything he couldn't say.
~~~
If someone offered Shane a billion dollars to repeat even a single game plan given during the team meeting, he would have to kiss the money goodbye. He left the conference room no more aware of his coach’s strategies for playing Boston the next day. Shane had only been able to hear one thing repeated over and over through the meeting.
Rozanov.
The name sent a shiver down Shane’s back. He had spent years only calling him that. Rozanov. It wasn’t until four months prior that Shane had allowed himself to use his first name.
It had been after Ilya whispered 'Shane' right before he came. The way his name rolled out of Ilya’s mouth, the way his accent wrapped around it, had sent Shane careening into his own orgasm. He whispered ‘Ilya’ against his mouth and felt the hands at his hips tighten almost painfully.
Shane had known for sure, in that moment, that he was desperately in love with Ilya. And he had been fighting himself to keep from telling him every second since.
He took a breath as he waited for the conference room to clear out. As captain, he always made sure he was the last to leave the team meetings in case any of the boys wanted to talk about the strategy. He could not express how much he didn’t give a fuck about their questions, not when he could be trying to get Ilya Rozanov to love him back by sucking his cock until the Russian lost English.
Finally, he was the last player in the room. He pulled his phone out and opened the thread with Ilya.
He had missed Ilya's response earlier.
Lily: ok?
Shane frowned at the way the two letters made his heart ache.
Jane: Done. heading there soon.
He made his way up to his room to grab his jacket and phone charger. He debated not taking his wallet but slipped it into his back pocket the same time his phone vibrated.
Lily: There’s a car at the front for you.
Lily: Black SUV, plate ends in 224
Lily: Driver is expecting you. Her name is Janet.
Shane blinked at the texts. He sent a car? He sent a car.