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*****
“Hey, hey.”
Ilya’s soft voice is just loud enough to drag Shane from his thoughts. His head snaps up, hands pausing where he'd been fussing with the way his popover shirt is tucked into his pants. His eyes find Ilya’s and suddenly he is able to exhale the breath lodged between his ribs. Ilya smiles, his hand reaching out to cup the line of Shane's jaw.
“They will love you. There are only good people here, I promise.”
Shane nods a bit shakily, “I know, I know.”
Then, because he can, Shane leans in to press their lips together in a short but firm kiss. When he pulls back, Ilya is smiling in a way that rivals the sun and makes Shane's heart ache.
Ilya turns and opens the front door to the house without so much as knocking.
“Hello! Your captain is here!”
Shane snorts back a laugh as he follows Ilya inside. So many voices shout out in reply to Ilya’s call, and Shane is suddenly very anxious. He's played against all of these guys before and met a few off the ice but this is different. This isn't just hockey players hanging out and shooting the shit. He was meeting his fiance's teammates.
Officially.
There are a few scattered people around the living room and further in toward the kitchen that Shane can see. He nervously twists the handle of the tote bag in his hand.
Ilya lays a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer. “Guys, this is Sha–”
“Shane!” A loud, feminine voice cuts through the air to interrupt Ilya. Shane's head whips to the side to see a very beautiful blonde woman positively beaming at him. “Lisa, your boyfriend is here!”
He hardly has time to react before Cassie Boodram struts over and takes his arm. She smiles sweetly at Ilya as she pulls Shane away, “Thank you for bringing him, Roz.”
He is all but ripped from Ilya's side and towed along toward the kitchen. He immediately recognizes Caitlin Dykstra sitting at the kitchen island, a wine glass in front of her, and Lisa Hayes beside her with a bottle of what looks like cider in her hand. They both look up as Cassie pulls him into the room.
“Shane!” The both of them greet loudly, hopping up from their stools.
Almost immediately, Shane is wrapped up in a many limbed hug. He freezes for just a moment, the sudden contact is a shock to his system, but he reciprocates as best as he can with the heavy tote in hand.
Caitlin notices the bag as they all pull back from the hug, “You actually brought stuff.”
“Shane! You didn’t have to,” Cassie admonishes.
Rolling his eyes, Shane sets the bag onto the counter. “You said that food is your love language so, here,” he says as he pulls out two large bowls with lids, “I made spicy edamame and a cucumber salad. My mom hardly ever cooks but these are her go-tos for parties.”
Cassie smiles warmly, shaking her head as she takes the bowl with the salad, “Thank you. Come on, we can take these outside. Nikki and Selena are out there, they'll be so excited to see you.”
Lisa takes the other bowl and Caitlin loops her arm around Shane's elbow, leading him outside. As surprised as Shane is by the contact from these women –his friends– he is mostly surprised by how unbothered he is by it. Despite playing a full contact sport since he could stand unassisted in skates, Shane has never felt at ease when other people touched him.
Except for Ilya.
The setup outside is unreal. Lots of seating and lights and a very large grill where something delicious smelling is being cooked. There's also a lot more people than there were inside.
“Oh my god, Shane!”
Nearly everyone turns to look at him, and Shane feels his cheeks flush pink. Selena Chouinard scrambles up from where she had been sitting next to, presumably, her husband. She is there next to Shane in an instant, wrapping him up in a very firm hug for such a small woman. Shane lets out a breathless laugh as he hugs her back. By the time that he is released, Shane is wrapped up in another hug.
“Hi, Shane.”
Shane laughs again, “Hi, Nicole.”
There is a strange thumping behind his ribs as he looks around the semi-circle of women who he has spent the last several months talking to almost daily.
A large, warm hand wraps around Shane's elbow to give it a gentle squeeze before snaking around his back to grip at the slight dip of his waist. Shane's face flushes hot and he can practically feel his blood pressure spike as he tilts his head to look at Ilya. This is new and uncharted territory for them– touching in front of so many people. Shane feels a little dizzy at the realization that they can do this now; Ilya can wrap an arm around his waist and Shane can lean against his side if he wants to.
And he wants to.
So he does.
“Can I have my fiance back now? I'd like to introduce him to the team,” Ilya says with a huff of faux annoyance in his voice. The casual way that the word fiance falls from Ilya’s lips makes Shane a little weak in the knees. He leans more of his weight against Ilya’s solid body to compensate.
“You act like we don't know who Shane Hollander is, Roz,” calls a voice from the other side of the deck.
Ilya scoffs and uses his hold on Shane's waist to turn the both of them to face the group of gathered hockey players. “Dykstra, you know rookie of the year, Olympic medalist, best player in the league, who single handedly won Montreal three Stanley Cups,” he boasts loudly, chest puffing with pride. Shane's face floods with heat, no doubt making his cheeks darken. Ilya looks at him, his face is split by the wide grin stretching from ear to ear. “This is My Shane.”
Shane can't help but roll his eyes, mostly as an attempt to stave off any wayward tears. This thing is absolutely surreal, but the look of glee on Ilya’s face at being able to show Shane off makes everything worth it.
With a grin, Ilya points out each player so that Shane can put a name with a face — outside of a hockey helmet and visor. Of course Shane recognizes them, he's played against many of them for years and they did just play a seven game series against each other.
“Where is our son?” Ilya calls out, head whipping from side to side.
Shane raises his eyebrows, “Our what?”
Before there is a chance to answer or explain, not that Shane assumes Ilya would do either, the back door opens once more. Out steps a young man with soft blonde curls and glasses perched on his nose. He looks like a baby, and Shane suddenly feels much older than he actually is. Ilya lets out an excited sound at the sight of the new arrival.
“My boy! Come — meet your other father!”
The young man's eyes widen almost comically as he slowly shuffles over as if he were making his way to the gallows. “Shanya, this is Luca Haas. Haasy, this is my fiance, Shane Hollander,” Ilya announces, pride making his voice as round as loonies.
“I know who you are. It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Hollander,” Luca says excitedly, sticking his hand out to shake Shane's.
Shane takes his hand, “Just Shane is fine. It's nice to meet you too. Ilya's told me a lot about you.”
Luca's face flushes as his eyes cut over to Ilya, who laughs and claps a hand onto Luca's shoulder. “Is okay, Haasy. He knows about your crush, he thinks it is cute,” he teases.
“Ilya,” Shane chides softly, playfully tapping the back of his hand to Ilya's stomach, “Be nice.”
When Luca quickly excuses himself, Shane turns back to look at Cassie who has been finishing setting up the food table. “I want to wash my hands before I eat. Where's your washroom?” he asks.
Cassie smiles and takes hold of his elbow, “Come on, I'll show you.”
Shane goes with Cassie easily, stepping back into the house. “I'm really glad you could come, Shane,” Cassie says as she closes the door behind him.
A real, unguarded smile spreads across Shane's lips.
“Me too,” he says truthfully. And it's weird how honest it feels. Shane has never been one for large gatherings of people; He has had to be dragged out with his own team multiple times over the years. This, though? This feels easier, not easy by any means, but definitely easier.
As they cross through the kitchen, Shane spots a familiar silhouette standing in the hall. He's seen it multiple times across the ice over the years and, thanks to Ilya, he knows more about him than ever before. For better or worse.
“Troy, hi! Did you just get here?” Cassie asks – she is quite the attentive hostess.
Nodding, Troy Barrett smiles as he stops in front Shane and Cassie, flashing them both a soft smile and nod. Shane doesn't exactly hear what Troy's actual answer is. His brain latches onto the smile—he's seen it numerous times over the years as they met on the ice. It usually preceded some homophobic or racist jab thrown Shane's way in a one-two punch effort with Dallas Kent. He's heard a lot of vile things come out of Troy Barrett's mouth. The same mouth he's laughing with and talking about his boyfriend and his dog with.
While Shane would never actively wish ill on another human being — Maybe Roger Crowell, but he's hardly a human anyway — there is a bitter taste in his mouth as he looks at Troy. For years, Troy was a terror in Toronto. He said and did truly terrible things, but now that he's come out of the closet all of his sins have seemingly been swept neatly under a rainbow colored rug; Meanwhile, being out was just the beginning of Shane's professional nightmare that he still hasn't woken up from.
It's not fair.
It's not fair.
It's not f–
“It's nice to actually meet you, Shane. Off the ice, I mean.” Troy saying his name snaps Shane right out of his spiraling thoughts.
He can feel his well-worn polite and personable mask that he saves for media and public events slip into place as he smiles. “Yeah, you too. I'm glad Ilya has had a good friend here while we've been apart,” Shane says with a nod of his head. And it's true. The last year has been especially hard, especially for Ilya, and Shane is beyond grateful that he's found someone who he can talk to about the secret things he's had to keep.
Even if that person is Troy Fucking Barrett.
Cassie looks between the two of them and claps her hands together once, “Well, Troy, mostly everyone had migrated outside. I'm just gonna show Shane where the washroom is and we'll be out to join in a bit.”
After Troy heads out to the backyard, Cassie leads Shane down the hall and directs him toward the washroom. “It's just through that door. I'm going to go check on some stuff in the kitchen. You'll be able to find your way back?” she asks with a playful tease.
Shane rolls his eyes fondly, “I'm sure I'll manage, Cass.”
*****
Sitting around a fire pit, leaning against Ilya’s side felt like it would always be a solitary activity saved just for them in the peace and quiet of their house on the lake. But Shane can't help but feel secretly a little pleased as the arm around his shoulders pulls him just a little closer before lips press sweetly against his temple. It's dizzying, to see other couples doing the same thing and no one batting an eye.
No one here cares or is giving them side-eyed glances every time that they touch.
Shane absently drops a hand to Ilya's leg, his fingertips idly dancing along the bend of his knee as Ilya talks animatedly to Bood and Nick Chouinard about something that Shane hasn't been able to keep track of. He notices, from the corner of his eye, Cassie and Lisa slipping inside the house together. Then, across the crackling fire, Selena stands from her spot beside her husband and follows suit.
None of the other guys seem to even notice as their wives disappear inside the house.
Nicole pats Josh's thigh as she also stands. She grabs her empty wine glass and makes her way inside. Shane's brows furrow slightly as his eyes flick toward Caitlin where she is perched on the arm of the chair where Evan is sitting. She gets up, completely unnoticed, and then is gone.
A buzzing in Shane's pocket brings him back to himself.
Shane reads the messages and slowly slides his phone back into his pocket. He tries to extricate himself from Ilya but as soon as he's upright and his hand is gone from his knee, Ilya looks at him with wide eyes. “Is everything okay, moya lyubov?” he asks so sincerely that Shane's chest aches ever so slightly.
“Yeah, baby. I'm just gonna step inside for a minute. I'll be back,” Shane assures, pressing a quick kiss to Ilya's cheek. He pointedly ignores the tightness in his stomach and the slight crest of anxiety that rises inside of him at doing so in front of others. Especially as Ilya practically beams back at him.
With a slight nod of his head, Shane gets to his feet and makes his way toward the house. As soon as the door is shut behind him, a hand wraps around his wrist and pulls, making him yelp in surprise as he stumbles forward.
Cassie has his wrist, dragging him along, while the other WAGs are right behind him.
“Are you kidnapping me?” Shane asks with a breathless laugh.
“No! We have a surprise for you!” Nicole laughs, pushing slightly at Shane's back.
They enter a small home office and Selena shuts the door behind them while Lisa and Cailtin direct Shane to a plush armchair in the corner. Once he's reoriented himself, Shane sees Cassie grabbing a sizable gift bag from the closet. She walks over and holds it for Shane to take. When he doesn't immediately grab the bag, she shakes it impatiently at him.
“Take it, open it,” Cassie says with a huff.
Shane warily takes the bag and sets it in his lap. He's always hated opening gifts in front of people — birthday parties as a child were a nightmare — because his face never really did what he or others wanted it to do. With a soft sigh, Shane pulls away the tissue paper in the bag and reaches inside.
His hands brush against soft, smooth leather. He then pulls out a beautiful deep red leather jacket. The front has leather letters spelling ‘OTTAWA’ stitched across the chest with a zipper running all the way down between the T and A. One sleeve says ‘CENTAURS’ down the length of it. On the back there is an embroidered outline of the Centaurs logo in white thread with the number 81 over top of it. Above the number, in big bold letters, is ROZANOV.
The room is quiet as Shane gingerly runs a finger over the letters of Ilya’s last name. He jolts when a delicate finger brushes his cheek, swiping away a lone tear he hadn't even noticed fall.
“Do you like it?” Selena asks tentatively.
Shane clears his throat and looks up at the women standing around him. His throat is tight with emotion and he can feel his hands trembling as he sets the jacket down on his lap.
“I love it, thank you,” he whispers in a hoarse voice. He clears his throat and shakes his head from side to side in an attempt to gather himself. “I just… Until a few months ago I was sure we'd only be out once we were done with hockey. I never thought I'd get the chance to support him at a game, let alone wear his name or number.”
A chorus of coos surrounds Shane before he is suddenly the center of a group hug. He normally avoids so much physical contact, he's even the first to pull away from a celly during a game, but this? This outpouring of love and support from a group of people who have been on his side since the beginning? This is nice. This he can handle.
*****