Chapter Text
December 2012
The sharp sting throbbed in his cheek, made only worse every time his face split into a grin. But Ilya couldn't be bothered enough to care.
Taking a high stick to his face in the last minutes of the game was well worth the tender bruise and split cut over his cheek bone in exchange for a power play. When his game sealing shot hit the back of the net, Ilya made sure to smile and wink into the nearest camera, blood streaking from his cheek down to his jaw.
Ilya stroked a finger absently over the butterfly bandage on his cheek, flicking away a droplet of water from his shower wet curls. His teammates were flocked around him like he was a king in his court; eyes bright and voices loud as they all recounted the final moments of the game.
For a moment he wondered if scenes like this ever bothered Shane. It seemed that the team naturally orbited around Ilya, the way people often did. Ilya was no stranger to his own charisma. But Shane was the captain. He felt a pang of guilt shot through him, lifting his head to scan the room for Shane.
Their eyes locked from across the room as Shane pulled a hoodie over his head, leaving his wet hair a tousled mess. Shane grinned at him, and Ilya was immediately parting the sea of his teammates, practically floating to Shane like a moth to a flame.
“Ouch.” Shane frowned when Ilya got close, reaching his fingers up to gingerly touch Ilya's cheek.
“Looks okay?” Ilya grabbed on loosely to one of Shane's hoodie strings, twisting it between his fingers.
“It's already bruising pretty bad. Did he check to make sure your cheekbone didn't fracture?” He felt Shane's hand gently turn his head to get a better look.
“Yes, solnyshko. No fracture. You worry too much.”
“You need to be icing this. Did he not give you an ice pack?” Shane was already grabbing Ilya by the wrist, grumbling as he guided him toward the medical room.
His determination made Ilya's chest feel warm. He wanted to bottle up Shane's charm and let himself get drunk on it.
Shane started rifling around in a drawer, eventually producing an instant cold pack, thrusting it into Ilya's hand. “Here. It's gonna swell up really bad if you don't ice it now.”
Ilya couldn't help but smile at him. He shut the door with his foot in a swift motion. “After you kiss it better for me, captain.”
Shane rolled his eyes, but his smile betrayed him. Ilya took a few steps closer, and was greeted by Shane's hand on his non-injured cheek. Warm, soft lips gently touched over his bruise in feather light kisses.
Ilya turned his head, capturing Shane's mouth with his. He felt his toes curl when Shane sighed happily into the kiss, fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of Ilya's neck. In an instant, Shane's tongue was gliding over his. Shane's mouth was always so hot. It made him lose himself every single time.
He backed Shane against the door, moaning quietly into his mouth when Shane hooked a leg around him, their bodies pressed impossibly close. Ilya pushed a hand up the front of Shane's hoodie, fingers gripping over the firm muscles of his abdomen, shivering at the feeling of his smooth skin.
It had been a few weeks now that they were properly sleeping together, and the magnetic pull between them had become so intense that Ilya could often feel control slipping through his fingers like sand.
Ilya had always enjoyed sex. Maybe a bit too much, seeing as he had allowed it to mar and mold his image into some sort of deviant Incubus womanizer. But nothing had ever felt like this for him.
When it came to Shane, he felt himself slip into wild abandon. He felt need blaze inside of him in untamed flames. Every touch, every taste, every sound - Ilya was starved for it.
He bit down on Shane's bottom lip just as someone started to bang on the door. “Roz? You in there?”
Shane gasped, putting both hands on Ilya's chest to push him backwards. Ilya tried to stifle a laugh as Shane quickly grabbed the cold pack that had been discarded on the floor, but gasped in pain when Shane shoved it against his cheek.
“Blyat, you fu-” But Shane shoved the pack against his face harder.
“Yeah, uh, we're in here..” Shane called over his shoulder.
Comeau opened the door, frowning, brows furrowed. “What are you doing?”
“Rozanov is an idiot and apparently needs supervision to follow doctor's orders. What's new.” Shane shrugged.
“He is concerned for my pretty face.” Ilya said, wincing when Shane pressed the pack harder against his face in response.
“Right. Well, we're going out. You coming with?” Comeau leaned in the doorway, eyes assessing.
Ilya hesitated, shooting a look at Shane. “If captain comes, I will come.”
Comeau huffed a laugh. “Whatever happened to the playboy party animal who needed to be leashed? Was all that a myth or something?”
God, were they really still talking about this? “Hollander is my handler. Good Canadian boy keeps me from trouble.” He patted Shane on the cheek.
“Well I think maybe he's doing a little too good of a job. You aren't allowed to have fun anymore?”
Ilya watched Shane bristled.
“I am allowed to do as I wish. I will come out. Celebrate getting my face split open for a win.” Ilya hopped off the table. Shane shot him a look.
“Fuck yes. Okay. I'll send the club in the group chat. Don't flake on us, Roz!” Comeau called over his shoulder.
“Ilya. Seriously?” Shane crossed his arms.
“What? You do not want me to go?” He turned to face Shane and his adorable angry face. “I will not go if you do not want, kotik.” He ran a thumb over Shane's freckles lightly.
Shane huffed an exasperated sigh. “No. Go if you want.”
“What is wrong? You will miss me?” He teased, pulling Shane closer by a hoodie string.
“Maybe.” Shane looked down, almost sheepishly.
“I will come back to you, solnyshko. I promise. Or you could always come with me, hm?” He put a finger under Shane's chin, gently tipping it up to meet his gaze.
“No.” Shane sighed. “I'm tired. I really don't feel like being out.”
When Ilya nodded, Shane tensed his jaw. “So what are you even gonna do there?”
Ilya shrugged. “Have a few drinks. What else?”
“I don't know.” Shane shifted his weight. “Dance.”
Ilya tutted, now grasping Shane's jaw with his whole hand. “Dance with who? Someone who is not my boyfriend?”
Ilya wasn't really sure why he said it. Maybe he was just feeling bold. Maybe because he couldn't stand the flicker of uncertainty in those pretty brown eyes. Maybe because he was tired of pretending Shane wasn't clearly his boyfriend in everything but name. Probably all of the above.
Shane's brows furrowed. “Your boyfriend?”
“Mm, that is you, no?” He gently squeezed Shane's jaw, eyes searching his as he allowed a small smile to play on his lips.
Shane's face seemed to go through ten emotions at once. He grabbed Ilya hard by the front of the shirt, pulling him out of view of the doorway before pushing their mouths together in a firm and almost desperate motion.
When they broke apart, Shane pressed their foreheads together. “Fuck, Ilya. You're really gonna do that and then go out without me?” Shane was nearly pouting. Ilya kissed his bottom lip.
“Will not be for long. Team bonding, you know? You should try sometime.”
“Oh, fuck off.” Shane pushed him back by his arm, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I bond with you, don't I?”
“Ah, this does not count. We were already bonded. Bonded pair. Like cats at shelter.” He carded a hand through Shane's hair. “I also very much hope that you do not bond with our other teammates the way you bond with me.”
“Ew.” Shane's face twisted in disgust at thought. “No thanks.”
“Is only for me, hm?” Ilya grabbed a handful of Shane's ass, squeezing firmly. Shane grabbed onto his shoulder, gasping softly.
“Fuck. Don't start. Not when we can't finish it.” Shane was close to whining. “You're killing me. I'll be asleep by the time you get back.”
“Well, good thing you give me a key. I will wake you up with polite tap on your ass, then fuck you into your mattress until you remember nothing but my name.” Ilya leaned in to gently bite his earlobe. “Would you like that, kotik?”
Shane tipped his head to the side, breath hitching slightly.
“Ilya Rozanov, you are the fucking worst. You're literally evil.” He shoved Ilya hard. “And you better.” Shane leaned back in close. “I need my boyfriend.” He said, a mischievous lilt to his voice.
That sneaky little brat was trying to beat him at his own game. Unfortunately, it was working. Ilya practically growled, turning to bite down on Shane's bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth.
“Mm. Umnyy mal'chik.” He muttered against Shane's mouth. (Clever boy.)
He really had Ilya wrapped all the way around his finger. He nuzzled his way into the crook of Shane's neck, breathing him in, resting his lips against the pulse point. “You know I cannot stay away from you for long, solnyshko. I have spent enough of my life missing you.”
The soft neon glow from the lights shining over the club cast the private booth in a pink haze. Ilya sipped his vodka, watching in amusement as J.J. worked on picking up a girl in an impossibly short dress on the edge of the dance floor.
He turned his head when he heard a throat clear, watching as Hayden Pike slid into the booth across from him, a petite brunette woman at his elbow.
“Ah. You must be the famous Jackie?” Ilya extended his hand.
“I am. And you must be the infamous Ilya Rozanov.” She smiled, holding her hand out to shake his.
But Ilya instead lifted her hand to his lips, giving the back of it a chaste kiss. Jackie's smile widened as she clutched a hand over her heart. Pike blanched, mouth dropping open for a fraction of a second before it set into a tight line. Ilya only smiled smugly in response.
Jackie looked over her shoulder to be sure no one else was in earshot before she spoke. “Hayden.” She hissed, clutching at his forearm. “You seriously were trying to keep Shane from him?!” She turned back to assess him momentarily, eyes raking over Ilya. “Some friend you are.” She grumbled, elbowing him.
“Hey, what the fuck does that mean?!” Hayden's look was somewhere between furious and exasperated.
“Oh, stop, Hayden. You have eyes. You know exactly what it means.”
Ilya had already decided that this woman was an angel on Earth who had absolutely no business climbing into bed with fucking Hayden Pike.
“I hear you are the one I need to thank for getting this one to lay off, hm?” Ilya tipped his glass toward Pike
Pike rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. Jackie elbowed him again.
“I told him he needed to grow the fuck up and stop being ridiculous. Shane is my friend, too. He's the best. I only want him to be happy. So when he called me on the verge of tears, I was about to wring Hayden's neck.”
She sighed, placing a hand on top of Hayden's. “He means well. I swear. He's just a moron sometimes and needs to learn how to shut his mouth.” She patted his hand. Pike stayed quiet.
“Well, I am happy to say he has not told me to go get my dick wet elsewhere or call me fake gay since then.” Ilya sipped his vodka, watching Pike's face twist up.
“I still can't believe he said that.” Jackie shook her head, then heaved a sigh. “We just want Shane to be happy. Really.” She laced her fingers with Hayden's. Pike turned to give her a fond look. Ilya could see it in Hayden's eyes. The softness. The love. It wasn't unlike the way he often looked at Shane.
“This is all I want, too.” Ilya shifted in his seat a bit. “I understand maybe you are afraid I am no good for Shane. You see pictures of me back in Russia fucking my way through entire city of Moscow. I suppose I do not blame you for…thinking less of me.”
“But, is a complicated thing. Before, I was sleeping around because I was running from something. Running from myself. I was very unhappy. Life has been…not so good for me.” Ilya felt his lips twitch uncomfortably. He wasn't sure exactly why he felt compelled to say any of this now. Maybe he wanted Jackie with her kind face and obvious concern for Shane to understand him. Maybe he wanted Pike to understand him, too. Even if only a little.
“But I am here now. With Shane. He makes me happy. He is best thing in my life. I do not need to run anymore. I do not need to go back to that life. I do not want to. I only want him.” Ilya looked up at Hayden, meeting his gaze.
Hayden gave him the slightest nod. “I guess I need to trust Shane's judgement on this. And Shane is very clearly obsessed with you. So.” He said, miserably.
“Mm, is he? Please tell me more.” Ilya leaned forward on his elbows.
“Buddy, I could barely get Shane to come with me to a sports bar in the suburbs. He followed you straight into a crowded downtown nightclub and you hardly even asked.” Hayden laughed a bit.
Ilya felt warmth spread in his chest. Oh, Shane. He had known for a long time now that their souls were tethered together, even from all the way across the world. He could feel the phantom tug in his gut when he would lie awake at night in his lonely Moscow apartment. Like his whole being was trying desperately to drift toward something that was just out of reach.
He felt it now, too. Ilya had been here for less than an hour, and he already wanted to make good on his promise to return to Shane and wake him up with his tongue.
“Well. I am maybe obsessed with him even more. Have been for long time now.” Ilya took the last swig of his vodka.
“You aren't exactly good at hiding it, Rozanov.”
Ilya considered for a moment, tilting his head from side to side before heaving a shrug. “We have always been close this way. I never wanted to hide from this. For long time it was very much only…what is word? For only friends?”
“Platonic?” Jackie supplied, smiling softly.
“Ah, yes. Platonic.” He knew the word sounded clumsy in his accent, but he didn't particularly care. “We were just kids. I did not want him like this back then. Was just…I feel very strongly about him. Always. From first time we met. It did not feel like normal friendship I had with other people. It always felt special. Maybe like soul mate.”
Ilya shrugged again, trying to play it off like he didn't just surgically cut his chest open and bare his heart to Pike and his girlfriend. Being away from Shane had him feeling sentimental. The love he felt for Shane had always been too big to hold inside, and now it was rapidly escaping containment. He felt as though the contents of his chest were spilling out like an overfilled cup; a messy and uncoordinated cascade that he was powerless to.
“That's so sweet.” Jackie nearly swooned, a hand clutched over her heart.
“Yes. Well. He has this effect on me.” Ilya stood, eyes scanning as he saw their teammates scattered around in various states of drunkenness.
He patted Pike on the shoulder before weaving his way back to the bar. He was going to need at least one more drink to process the fact that he had just forged a truce with Hayden Pike.
Ilya rested a forearm across the slightly sticky bar top, his attention caught when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. He looked up to see Comeau grinning at him through glassy eyes. He had one attractive girl hanging off of his neck; another standing just behind him as she tucked her hair sheepishly behind an ear, stealing glances at Ilya from behind her human shield.
“Roz!” Comeau said loudly, leaning into his ear as the sounds from the club pulsed around them. “I noticed you haven't really been scanning the scene. There's tons of hot girls here tonight, it's unbelievable. I brought you one.” He jerked his chin over his shoulder to where the shy looking girl was now watching Ilya intently.
“How kind of you.” Ilya gave her a curt nod and tight smile before turning his head back toward the bar. “But I do not need a wingman.”
Comeau scoffed. “So what, you just sit in the corner and expect the girls will come to you?”
Ilya smirked to himself, winking to the bartender when she acknowledged him. “You would be surprised.” Ilya murmured.
“Well. This one has been eyeing you up all night. Told her friend here she likes your hair.” Comeau slid his arm around the waist of the girl who was plastered against him.
“Most people do.” Ilya kept his gaze forward, tapping his fingers against the bar idly.
Comeau gave the shy girl a nudge forward. “This is Roz- well, Ilya.” He slurred slightly. “He wants to buy you a drink.”
Ilya furrowed his brows as he looked over his shoulder to see Comeau disappearing back into the crowd, leaving the other girl standing at his elbow. “Hi.” She looked up at him through her lashes.
Ilya simply gave her another nod, hoping this poor girl would get the hint. He almost wished he was shirtless so she could see the purple bruise mottled on his pec and know that claim had already long been staked over him.
A past version of him would have gladly shown this girl a good time. She was pretty, in a cute sort of way, with glossy lips and dark eyes. But he could feel the way his body pointedly made no response to it. Sheer indifference was layered over his mind like a thick fog. He wished he could turn to this girl and say, 'sorry, I actually have a boyfriend, and I am so obsessed with him that you might as well be another barstool standing next to me.'
But, that would be problematic. Instead he turned to her, putting on his most polite smile. “My teammate had good intentions…I think. But, I am not…looking for anything. I am just here for few drinks with my team. Sorry about that. You can still get drink on my tab. Is my treat.”
“Oh.” She blinked at him a few times. “I mean, I'm not really…looking for anything either. Just a little fun.” Her shy smile shifted into something a bit more.
Ilya clenched his jaw, silently willing the bartender to hurry the hell up. He was also silently considering making a public service announcement that he was no longer a manwhore. Thank god for vodka.
Sometimes he truly felt like he had magnets in his belly that were polarized only to whatever Ilya's soul was made of. He was like the tide, and Ilya was his moon, gently pulling him along in a way that felt like the most natural thing Shane had ever experienced.
That's how Shane found himself with his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets, eyes scanning the throngs of bodies that littered the overwhelming club.
Fine. Maybe it was a little pathetic on his part that he couldn't wait another second to see Ilya. But Shane really wanted his boyfriend. So sue him.
Boyfriend. He still felt drunk off that word. When it had left Ilya's lips, it hit him like an arrow through the heart. He wanted to hear him say it again. He wanted to hear him say it a thousand times more.
His eyes finally landed on a form leaning over the bar. Shane felt the tug in his stomach turn into a full swoop.
Ilya looked unfairly good, considering he had a bruise on his face and was simply wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. But the shirt clung tight to the broadness of his chest and shoulders. The sleeves hugged at the impressive muscle of his arms. Shane wanted to bite him.
As he moved a bit closer, his steps faltered slightly when he noticed a girl at his side, the both of them grabbing their drinks in unison as the bartender slid them across the bar top. She was trying to move closer, and also looking at Ilya like she wanted to bite him.
Before Shane could even get close enough to get Ilya's attention, his head turned, and his entire face lit up.
“Solnyshko! What are you doing here?!” Ilya was beaming, and Shane couldn't stop the smile that split his own face.
Ilya took a few steps to close the gap, both hands finding Shane's face, his thumbs brushing over Shane's cheekbones in tandem.
“Just wanted a drink.” Shane shrugged. “Didn't even know you were here.”
Ilya's grin never wavered. He pinched one of Shane's cheeks, letting his hand slide down his jaw and neck, fingers trailing subtly. Shane's skin felt buzzy in their wake.
He ran a hand down Ilya's arm, looking over his shoulder to see the girl standing there awkwardly and a little dumbfounded. He could see a flicker of recognition in her eyes as she studied him. Shane wondered if she was trying to work out in her head why Ilya had essentially launched himself away from her and straight into his captain with the enthusiasm of a puppy.
Ilya looked behind him, offering the girl a small wave. “Enjoy your drink. Have a good night.” He said before leaning back into Shane's ear. “Comeau tried to be my wingman. I was looking for polite way to tell her that she is nowhere near as pretty as my boyfriend.”
Shane bit down on his bottom lip to suppress his smile. “Oh yeah?”
“Mm. I have hottest man in the league. Magazines say so, da? I say hottest man in whole world, but.” He shrugged.
Shane felt the heat flare under his collar. He sent a silent thanks in tandem with a silent curse to the universe for sending him this smooth talking Russian man who was making his knees weak in the middle of this crowded club.
Ilya hooked his arm into Shane's. “Come. Table is this way. Hayden and Jackie are here.”
Shane let his hip brush against Ilya's as they walked. He felt like sparks were igniting off of them, as if their bodies were made of flint. He wondered if it was as obvious to anyone else as it was to him.
When they approached the table, Shane was greeted by a smiling Jackie, Hayden's arm slung around her. “My favorite person!” She said gleefully, reaching out to squeeze his arm.
“Have these two been playing nice?” Shane nudged Ilya with his elbow as he slid into the booth, Ilya moving in next to him.
“Honestly? Yes. I think maybe we're all finally on the same page.” She leaned across the table, lowering her voice. “As long as he takes good care of you, you are very much allowed to have your hot man.”
Shane felt his cheeks warm as he smiled, cutting his eyes to where Hayden was sighing dramatically. Yes, his boyfriend was fucking hot. “He takes very, very good care of me.” Shane said quietly. He felt Ilya's hand give his knee a quick squeeze.
Somewhere along the way, more of their teammates flocked to the table. Shane was glad for this, because it meant they had to squeeze in to make room, which meant he had an excuse to be squished up against Ilya's side. Their thighs were pressed close together, and Shane could feel Ilya's heat bleeding into him.
As the loud chatter swallowed up the sound around them, Shane turned his head to speak into Ilya's ear. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”
Ilya placed his hand high on Shane's thigh under the table. He turned his head so his lips were now brushing Shane's ear as he spoke. “I have been thinking this all night. You look so fucking good, malysh.”
Shane closed his eyes briefly as Ilya spoke, getting lost in his voice and the feeling of his breath warm against the side of his neck. Ilya began to murmur in his ear in Russian, and Shane could feel himself practically squirming in his seat, biting his lip to keep from making any embarrassing sounds in front of their teammates. At least they all seemed to be otherwise preoccupied.
Suddenly, another voice broke through the sweet cascade of Ilya's words, causing Shane to snap his head up.
“Roz! What the fuck are you doing?” Comeau was slurring his words, listing slightly on his feet. Shane noticed he was being flanked by two girls; one of them being the one who was making eyes at Ilya at the bar.
“I told you. I do not need wingman.” Ilya attempted to dismiss him, but Comeau leaned over the table.
“Fucking typical. You'd rather be on Hollander's dick like always.”
Shane went still. He felt Ilya bristle beside him. “You are drunk.” Ilya said flatly.
“I thought you were cool, Roz. Now you're making me look like an idiot. Tried to bring you a girl and she tells me you were too busy rubbing up on Hollander to even notice her. I wouldn't have bothered if I knew you were a fag.”
“Whoa!”
To Shane's surprise, it was Hayden who yelled out, springing up from the table immediately, getting into Comeau's face. “Dude, what the fuck?”
Shane felt the world tilting in on itself. Next thing he knew, Ilya was standing as well, pulling Hayden back by the elbow. “He is a messy drunk. Go home, Comeau.” Ilya turned to the girl that was clinging to Comeau's arm. “I suggest you do not follow him.”
“Oh, so now you're gonna give out advice for other people's sex life?” Comeau laughed sardonically. “Fucking cocksucker.”
“And what if I am? Hm?” Ilya pushed Hayden back toward the table, stalking closer to Comeau who seemed to be either shaking with rage or too drunk to stand still. “What? Sucking cock is worst thing you can think of? I could suck a dick at center ice in middle of a game and still have better stats than you on your best game, Comeau.”
Shane felt ice forming in his stomach. He realized he should not have come here. Not when he knew he was going to want to cling to Ilya all night like he was his oxygen.
“You're sick. I hope they deport you back to Russia and kill you, you fucking fa-”
Shane honestly wasn't sure who moved first. There was a sudden blur of bodies; Hayden lurched forward, Ilya lunged like a wild dog, and Shane jumped out of his seat so fast that he nearly flipped the table.
It was too much. Shane was the fucking captain of this team, and Ilya was the love of his life. He would be damned if anyone, let alone a teammate, was going to say things like that to him.
Both of the girls who were with Comeau scattered like birds. Hayden had a hand fisted in Comeau's shirt and Ilya had smacked the beer bottle out of his hand and sent it shattering on the floor by the time Shane was standing fully.
“Hey! Step back, both of you, step the fuck back!” Shane yelled, reaching an arm between Comeau and the two very angry men who were about to double team him. Shane could not let this turn into a public brawl, as much as he would love to watch Ilya and Hayden kick Comeau's ass into next week. He didn't need any of his players spending the night in jail.
Both men acquiesced, taking a step back. Shane grabbed the front of Comeau's shirt with both hands, yanking him forward. “Get in a fucking cab and go the fuck home, Comeau. And I better never, ever hear any shit like that come out of your mouth again or I swear to god I will end your career myself. Do you understand?”
Comeau had the audacity to look shocked. “Christ, cap. Are you really-”
“I am this fucking close to punching you in the mouth myself, Comeau. Please don't test me.” Shane pushed Comeau away, sending him stumbling back into J.J. who had appeared when the spectacle began. “J.J., make sure he gets out of here.”
He turned back to Ilya, whose jaw was tensed so hard, Shane was sure he was going to crack his teeth. “Ilya. Come on. We're leaving.”
Ilya nodded once, then turned to Hayden, who had a protective arm around Jackie as they whispered animatedly. Ilya placed a hand on Hayden's shoulder, patting it. “Pike.” Then he tentatively added, “Thank you.”
Hayden patted Ilya on the forearm. “No one deserves that. Not even you, Rozanoz.”
That earned Hayden one of Ilya's signature grins. It temporarily softened the feeling in Shane's chest, which currently felt like it was in knots.
“I'll text you, Hayd.” Shane grabbed Ilya by the elbow. “Jackie, it was good to see you.”
Shane hurriedly pulled Ilya into his side, desperately wanting to get him the fuck out of here.
It made Shane sick to think about the fact that Ilya had escaped from his personal hell in Russia, but he was still seemingly getting shit from all angles. It was cruel. It was unfair. It made Shane want to cry. But he wasn't going to cry. He was going to get his boyfriend home and make sure he knew exactly how much he was worth.
The moment they stepped through Shane's front door, he gathered Ilya tightly into his arms. “Ilya…” He started, not even sure what it was that wanted to say.
“Is okay, solnyshko.” He felt Ilya's strong arms snake around him.
“No. It's really not.” Shane huffed out a humorless laugh. “You came here to get away from the people in your life who treated you like shit, and now-”
Ilya stepped back, hands finding their way to Shane's face. “And now I am. And I am here, with you. This is all that matters to me. The only fucking thing.”
Shane searched Ilya's eyes. There was so much to them. A depth that felt unfathomable. But they looked back at Shane with so much love that it stole the breath from his lungs.
He pressed his forehead to Ilya's. Ilya stroked a finger along Shane's jawline slowly. “I think…I want to come out. Publicly.”
Shane took a full step back, eyes widened.
“Do not worry. I am not asking you to do the same. I am not expecting you to. I just…” He heaved a sigh, moving to sit on the edge of the couch. “You are right. I left Russia to be free. I want to be free. I want to be who I am meant to be and not feel sorry for myself anymore.”
Shane felt his heart clench painfully. Ilya deserved the world, and so much more. “Would you ever be able to go home again?”
“I will never go back to Russia. Is not home for me anymore. Home is here. With you, Shane.”
Ilya was suddenly very blurry in Shane's eyes. He sat down next to him and cupped Ilya's jaw in his hand, guiding their mouths together. He didn't only kiss him. He breathed him in. He savored his warmth and the taste of his tongue. His Ilya.
“I'm so lucky to have you.” He whispered against Ilya's mouth. “You should come out, if that's what feels right. And I'm never going to let anyone hurt you. You understand me?”
As much as it scared him to think about the implications of Ilya being the first out queer player in the league ever, he wasn't going to stop Ilya from feeling free. And he wasn't going to allow fear to consume him again.
Ilya smiled softly. “I know you won't. Was very hot, watching you defend me. I should have got on my knees and shown Comeau how much of a cocksucker I really am, hm?”
Shane punched his arm. “Ilya. Don't joke about it. I wanted to fucking strangle him.”
“I know, solnyshko. And I would have happily let you.”
Shane sighed, brushing their lips together again. He grasped at Ilya's hands, bringing them into his lap. “Hey. I know you don't really celebrate Christmas, but. We have a couple days off and I'll be going to my parents house in Ottawa. I want you to come with me. Please.”
He desperately wanted his parents to meet Ilya properly. Though he still hadn't come out to them. He still hadn't even said the words to himself at all. But he had to remember. No more allowing fear to consume him. If Ilya could be brave, he could be brave, too.
Ilya squeezed his hands. “Of course I will, solnyshko. I will follow you anywhere.”
Shane felt his heart melt for the thousandth time. Ilya Rozanov was going to reduce him to nothing more than a puddle. Ilya Rozanov owned his whole heart.