Chapter Text
When Shane opens his eyes, he doesn't know where he is for a few seconds. It still happens to him, although relatively less often.
About seven months have passed since the day Shane first visited Ilya at home. In the meantime, a few things have happened: first, the team accepted Ilya, or at least no longer treated him with hostility and had no problem passing the puck to the ex-Boston Bear. As for Ilya's father's will — or rather, his mother's belongings — little has changed, as Ivan Rozanov is still alive and Ilya is about halfway through his citizenship case. For now, only those closest to them know about Ilya and Shane's relationship – Rose, for obvious reasons, Sventlana for exactly the same reason, as well as Shane's parents, who walked into his flat at the wrong moment, then Hayden Pike and a few other close teammates. However, most of the team is unaware, and even though the men spend a large part of the week together in one or the other's flat, they commute to training separately, at appropriate intervals. Ilya and Shane were considering coming out at a later date, but for now they are in the spotlight for completely different reasons. It is not every day that players from two teams competing as fiercely as Boston and Montreal start playing together, and, as the Voyageurs' coach predicted, it caused quite a scandal. Rozanov tried to cut off all questions about personal matters, explaining his reasons only briefly, but neither the press conference nor the interviews and statements did much good. The paparazzi followed him for a good three weeks, which was hell for the couple, who already had to hide. Hollander and Rozanov had no choice but to meet only at training sessions for almost a month, staying longer under the pretext of going to the gym to make up for lost time with quick sex in the broom closet.
Ilya does not say it out loud, but he is terrified of what will happen in the media if they ever announce their relationship. Because if a simple player transfer, a relatively common occurrence in the world of hockey, caused such a stir, it is hard to imagine what might happen if two former rivals, who are also men, announced that they were together. Besides, Ilya immediately warned Shane that going public with their relationship was out of the question, at least until the inheritance case was settled and he obtained citizenship. Because while he was willing to sacrifice the opportunity to return to Russia for Shane, he could not live without citizenship and did not agree to irretrievably lose what Irina Rozanov had left behind.
Ilya and Shane decided to forget about their arch-rivals phase (or as Rose preferred to call it, enemies to lovers, whatever that meant), although they still sometimes use arguments during their fights that come dangerously close to tearing up those wounds. Sometimes Ilya says yeah, run to the bog, when Shane tries to stop an argument. Sometimes Shane, in anger, says at least my team accepts me. Communication is still something they should work on. But overall it's good. Good enough that Shane is currently where he is - in Ilya's bed.
That day, after Shane has had time to come to his senses and remember why he is in the bright, cozy bedroom, he realizes that it must be very early. Ilya is not lying next to him, so he has probably headed up for a gym or he is on a walk with Anya. On weekdays, he usually got up at five o'clock so he could get to bed around six and cuddle with Shane before the training. On weekends, they both got up later.
It's Sunday, so without checking his watch, Shane assumes it might be seven, maybe eight in the morning at the latest. He wonders whether to wait for Ilya as usual, but he's too warm, uncomfortable, and his body is clamoring for coffee, so he decides to go downstairs and surprise his boyfriend with breakfast. He doesn't bother dressing his pants and imposes only one his flannel shirts on his shoulders.
Once he's downstairs, he hears rustling coming from the kitchen, which means Ilya has managed to return.
“Hey, Ilya... Jesus, fuck!”
Sitting at the table is Scott Hunter with a mug of coffee in his hand, with which he is just trying to obscure the view of a half-naked Shane. Even being shocked, his face doesn't betray much emotion.
“For God's sake, Hollander, put something on.”
Shane instantly pulls on his hips the pants he left on the dresser near the kitchen the previous day. Hunter may have seen his naked ass when they were showering after the All-Stars Game, but he shouldn't necessarily see the love bites on Shane's thighs now.
“Excuse me, I wasn't expecting visitors at fuck o'clock,” Shane explains half-derisively. After a moment, he realizes that because of Ilya's constant presence, he's starting to refer to Hunter in the same sneering manner.
“I was invited,” he says.
Indeed, Ilya invited Hunter Scott to talk about his coming out, all the difficulties and obstacles involved, the paparazzi, and the potential scandal. Rozanov won't admit it out loud, but Hunter has been in the hockey world longer (at least a hundred thousand years) and has more experience. He can help them choose their narrative when they decide to come out.
“I don't know anything about it,” says Shane, because, of course, Ilya forgot to mention they’re having a guest.
“In that case, you should watch Ilya and his appointments more. One day he'll forget about his own wedding.”
Shane blushes at this comment, but replies nothing. He sits down across from Scott and grabs a pot of coffee.
“I keep forgetting that you two are dating. Really, Hollander, I might have expected something better from you.”
“What the fuck was that supposed to mean?” Ilya suddenly appears in the doorway.
Shane turns his head and can't hide his smile. Ilya stands with his hand on his hip, waiting for an answer. He is wearing this ridiculous tight pants he wears while running. Scott sighs and puts his mug down on the table.
“It means,” the man explains. “That you are an irresponsible, smug asshole. And Hollander is...”
Shane raises an eyebrow, wanting to know what kind of person he supposedly is.
“Hollander is well-behaved.”
“Mm... no,” Ilya comments. “He's an asshole. A match made in hell.”
“Hollander, if you ever need a good lawyer for your divorce with this one then I know a good...”
“Oh, right, Scott, thanks for reminding me, because I forgot. We got engaged.”
Scott whoops and picks his nose, feeling the coffee that, instead of flowing down his throat, flew upward, straight to his sinuses.
“You did WHAT?”
Shane hides his face in his hands and tries to hide his amusement.
“Surprise!” shouts Ilya.
“You're not engaged,” Scott states. “Neither of you has a ring on your finger. Besides, you'll kill each other sooner than get married. Six months ago a referee had to separate you two because you were arch-enemies.”
Ilya shrugs his shoulders and sits on Shane's lap.
“Eh, old story. The quarrel of lovers is the renewal of love, or something like that.”
“Hollander, say something, or I'll go apeshit.”
“You're right, we're not engaged,” Shane says, and a smile creeps onto his lips. “Ilya doesn't have the balls to ask.”
“Ouch, right in the heart.” Ilya clutches his chest theatrically.
“Do you want to ask me something, Rozanov?”
Ilya looks at Scott and then at Shane. He knows this is a dare.
“Hollander, will you marry me?”
“Sure.”