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1: Regina 2008
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Ilya was pretty sure that dogs sitting outside the back entrance of a rink was not a Canadian thing. It was too cold, too desolate (not as much as Moscow Ilya noted), but the creature was still there.
Yet, that is what he saw when he attempted to take a quick smoke before loading into the team bus.
He wasn’t an expert on dog breeds, but this dog was definitely not… natural? It was 100% not one that Ilya would see as strays around Moscow, but he also didn’t think any rich person in Russia would get a dog like this. This dog looked like he had stepped out of a sketchbook.
Its white fur was clean for laying on concrete but had black dots littered around. It had a round face and long, floppy black ears that looked as soft as velvet. When Ilya approached, the dog didn't growl or bark. It just watched him. The eyes were so close to being black, but a flash of brown was seen when the dog suddenly looked at Ilya.
“Hi?” Ilya muttered, feeling ridiculous for talking to a dog.
The dog’s head tilted, like he actually understood Ilya. He froze as his eyes locked with the animal. It wasn’t a vacant stare, but a flash of warm brown full of both panic and longing.
The dog suddenly scrambled to its feet, its nails clicking frantically on the pavement as it dashed away into the shadows of the arena.
“Wait!” Ilya called, but the dog was gone. He felt a strange, lingering warmth in the air where the animal had been sitting, almost like a hum of static electricity. Ilya was definitely curious if the dog’s fur was as soft as it looked, but oh well…
He couldn’t really dwell on it long and started attempting to light his cigarette. A moment later, Shane Hollander walked in, looking windswept and irritable. Ilya immediately got lost in the sight of his freckles.
He would have forgotten the whole interaction with the dog but the universe wanted to mock him. When a TV in the hotel lobby flickered to a Western cartoon, Ilya's eyes widened.
A dog on the screen was walking like a person, carrying boxes to a light blue house. It had the same floppy ears, the same spots, the same soul-searching eyes.
This human dog was carrying boxes to a light blue house with his human owner(?) trailing behind him. Then, the human dog started decorating around the dog house.
Ilya couldn’t care less about whatever the kid with the red jacket was complaining about. His eyes stuck on the name written on the house.
‘Snoopy’
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2: Toronto 2010
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The shoot was fun, but what happened in the showers after was more fun.
Ilya’s mind was a mess at the thought of what Shane’s skin could feel against his fingers. He needed to clear his head, so he retreated outside for a smoke. The crisp Toronto air grounded him as he walked past the valet stand to the corner of the building.
He was halfway through his cigarette when he heard the sound of excited cheers. Shifting his gaze, he saw a group of valet guys crowding around something on the sidewalk.
“Dude, he’s fucking Snoopy in the flesh!” one of them yelled loudly.
“Snoopy isn’t real. It’s a cartoon.”
“Explain how the fuck he looks exactly like him. Look at his ear!”
He tossed his cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it for good measure before walking over to hear them talking. Ilya pushed past a tall guy in a uniform and froze. There, sitting perfectly still in the center of the circle, was the dog from Regina.
The white fur was just as clean, the black spots just as stark. But this time, the dog wasn't just watching. His tongue was lolling out, and he was shivering slightly, despite the weather not being that cold.
“Where did he even come home from?”
“He doesn’t have a collar,” one of them reached down to confirm his suspicions. “We gotta take him to the animal shelter. Someone probably lost their purebred.”
The dog let out a panicked whimper. He looked around the circle of towering men, his eyes landing on Ilya. It was the same flash of warm, honey brown eyes pleading at Ilya. A strange hum of static electricity hit the air and Ilya moved without thinking.
He crouched down, and the dog immediately weaved through the valets' legs to press his head against Ilya's knee.
“Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry those stupid Canadians harassed you,” Ilya whispered in Russian and his hands went to his fur. It was as soft as Ilya imagined, radiating with a feverish heat.
“Yo, is he your dog?” one of the guys asked, sounding skeptical.
Ilya looked up to see the three valet guys looking at him. A mask of cold indifference washed over him as the trembling dog leaned closer to his thigh.
“Um, yes. He is Snoopy.”
He probably should have thought of a more creative name.
“Oh, cool,” one of them said. “Should invest in a collar, man. He’s a runner.”
Snoopy let out a low growl at the mention of the collar. Ilya’s heart gave a strange thump at the familiarity of the disgruntled sound.
“No thank you. Goodbye.”
Ilya decided to sell the scene more and lifted Snoopy into his arms. The dog was heavier than he looked, but still solid and warm. As Ilya carried him down the block, Snoopy’s heart beat so loud against his ribs.
“There you go,” Ilya said, setting him down in the quiet shadows of a side street.
The dog didn't bolt this time. Snoopy stepped forward and gave Ilya a long, slow lick across his cheek. The fur on the dog's neck felt blistering hot for a split second.
“Be safe, sweetheart.” Ilya’s Russian slipped out with one last pet of Snoopy’s head.
Snoopy let out a triumphant bark and disappeared into the darkness. Ilya stood there for a long time, his skin tingling where the dog had touched him. Ilya looked down at his phone to see it was still a couple of hours before he could see Hollander.
Ilya sighed with a small smile. Maybe he could get a dog in Boston with how much of an expert he was.
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3: Boston 2016
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Ilya’s night was going exactly how he didn’t want it to go. It was partially his fault for finally saying Shane’s name out loud, but really, Hollander shouldn't have abandoned him.
He sat on his sofa, trying to avoid looking toward the kitchen. The sight of his prepped ingredients and chilled ginger ale cans would cause a breakdown.
A chime for his security system interrupted the hockey still playing on the TV. Ilya dragged himself up to look at the camera feed, expecting a delivery he didn't order or a confused neighbor. Instead, he saw a familiar white-and-black shape curled up on his welcome mat.
His heart did a strange, painful flip. He didn't even think. Ilya just opened the door.
The dog jumped the second he heard Ilya coming, scurrying back to the edge of the porch to maintain distance. Ilya stared for a second before shutting the door enough to keep it unlocked.
It had been six years since Toronto. He had tried to convince himself the "Snoopy" sightings were just a strange Canadian phenomenon. Yet…
“I have Boston Snoopy now?” Ilya muttered more to himself than the dog in front of him. “Do you have home? Or did you walk from Canada?”
The dog had no collar, like the two other Snoopys. He looked older, sturdier yet his eyes poured with fear.
Ilya took a seat on the stone step, braving the cold air in just his t-shirt. He held out a hand, palm up. “Can I pet?”
Boston Snoopy hesitated for a second before allowing a few steps closer to Ilya. Instead of a shy sniff, he immediately began slobbering over Ilya's hand, his tail thumping against the porch with a frantic, desperate rhythm.
“Oh, is this kiss?” Ilya questioned sweetly as he tried to move his hand to the fur for pets, but Boston Snoopy kept butting his nose against Ilya’s palm, demanding more contact.
“You are messy one.” It came out a little fonder than Ilya was expecting. One he usually reserved for a certain freckled captain.
Boston Snoopy pulled back, giving him a look that was so incredibly quizzical. He could practically see the expression on the same hockey player stuck in his head. Ilya patted his thigh, and the dog immediately clambered up, resting his heavy head on Ilya’s lap.
With Boston Snoopy’s eyes closing, Ilya found himself running his dry hand through the fur of the dog’s body. The familiar unnatural heat bloomed under his palm. It was almost human-like how heavy the air felt with Boston Snoopy in his arms.
“I wish I could keep you,” Ilya spoke, as he traced some of the black spots on Boston Snoopy’s belly. “A friend to have when I am down, to keep my head out of thinking about stupid Canadian boy.” Boston Snoopy let out a loud whine which made Ilya laugh a little. “Maybe I should go out with Svetlana and find someone to fuck. Someone who will stay.”
Boston Snoopy let out a sharp, offended bark and suddenly lunged, pinning Ilya back against the doorframe. It didn’t feel like an attack, but instead a fierce, frantic cuddle.
“Okay Okay! You want all attention?” Ilya laughed for the first time that night. Boston Snoopy buried his wet nose into the crook of Ilya’s neck, licking the skin right over his pulse point.
For a moment, Ilya closed his eyes and let himself imagine it was Shane’s breath against his neck. A pang of sadness hit as Ilya felt Boston Snoopy remove himself from his shoulder and rest his head on Ilya’s chest. His brown eyes almost looked like they were studying Ilya’s face by the way they were darting around.
His fingers slowly twirled around the soft fur as Ilya sighed.
“I messed up today,” Ilya confessed. “All because I couldn’t help myself.”
Boston Snoopy’s fur slowly started to warm in Ilya’s fingers. The dog’s body gave a violet shiver. The dog scrambled off his chest and ran down the stairs. Boston Snoopy looked back and let out a quiet, almost apologetic bark. The dog dashed into the darkness of the Boston night.
“Goodbye, my Snoopy.” Russian slipped out of his tongue too naturally at that moment. “I guess my night was meant to be alone.”
As he closed the door behind him, Ilya felt the lack of chill in his body. His hand still felt the tingling hum of electricity. For the first time that night, he didn't feel quite so abandoned.
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4: Montreal 2017
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Ilya wanted to either punch the wall of the club or yell into the air. Since he couldn’t do either without looking like a madman, he just walked.
His fucking Uber app wasn’t working so he kept walking further from the club in the hope of getting some connection. He made it down the block before hearing a low, jagged whimpering coming from the mouth of a narrow alleyway.
Ilya knew better than to go into dark alleys in cities that weren't his own, but he had already made a string of stupid decisions tonight. He lit a cigarette, the smoke curling around his face like a shield, and stepped into the shadows.
The mission was simple: find sad dog, pet it for comfort (for who is honestly the real question), and leave to order an Uber to jack off.
“Puppy?” Ilya’s voice echoed off the brick. “Please come out, I am too tired and pretty to be kidnapped.”
A small rustle came from behind a rusted dumpster. A flash of white and black fur peeked out before hiding the second they locked eyes.
“There you are,” Ilya murmured. He nudged a heavy trash bin aside, and his heart dropped.
It was him. Again. But this Snoopy was shrunken into himself. His white coat was matted with alleyway grime, and he was shaking so violently that his teeth were audibly chattering.
“Oh Snoopy, you are having shitty day too?” Ilya’s heart broke at the sound of the whine that followed. It wasn't a dog’s whimper; it sounded like a sob. He threw his butt away into the darkness of the alley. “Come on, let’s get you out of this smelly street.”
Ilya reached down but Montreal Snoopy yipped, sharp and fearful, and recoiled.
“Fuck, okay, okay,” Ilya bit his lip, his chest tightening. He didn't like seeing anything this small look that terrified. “You want to stay there, or walk with me?”
Snoopy finally looked up at him. Ilya swore he saw a glassy sheen to those deep brown eyes. A faint static hum vibrated through the air and the usual unnatural heat flooded the alley with a strange mixture of cologne Ilya only knew Hollander wore
“I swear I will hurt whoever hurt you,” Ilya growled in Russian before offering a steady hand again.
Montreal Snoopy hesitated before ducking his head under his hand, under Ilya’s palm. Ilya let out a breath he’d been holding for what felt like forever and began to scratch behind the floppy black ears.
For a bit, Ilya ignored the filth of the alley and kept his hand busy through Snoopy’s soft, surprisingly hot fur. The dog’s shivering eventually slowed. Snoopy’s eyes melted shut, and he took a long, shuddering breath before stepping out from behind the dumpster to bump his nose against Ilya’s knee.
“You leave now?” Ilya got up from his crouched position. Montreal Snoopy gave a solemn nod, which is insanely human but maybe Ilya drank too much in the club. The dog trotted deeper into the alley, toward the back exit. “Yeah, I’m not joining you there. Bye-Bye Snoopy!”
The dog doesn’t turn around, but his tail perked up, swaying in what Ilya could only describe as a thank you.
The interaction was almost enough to make Ilya forget about the horrible club encounter. Almost enough to make him forget how Shane had looked at him before turning away.
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5: Tampa 2017
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Hollander is nowhere to be found. A shitty thing to do as a captain but not unsurprising knowing the anxious Canadian.
Ilya checked the lobby, the pool bar, and the floor booked for the players. He was slowly making his way toward the beach when a familiar flash of white and black caught his eye. A tail was poking out from behind a large hibiscus bush near the dunes.
“Snoopy?” Ilya called out, a small smile blooming on his lips. “What are you doing in bush? Is there something interesting to find.”
Snoopy retreated into the bush more, a habit with all Snoopys Ilya meets. Easy business after so many years.
“Hey,” Ilya said, approaching slowly and crouching down. The Tampa sun was brutal, but the air around the bush felt even thicker, vibrating with that familiar, electric hum. “Will not hurt you, okay? I give the best head scratches, you know?”
There was a rustle, and a wet black nose peeked through the green leaves.
“Yes, I am big scary hockey player, but I am Snoopy expert now,” Ilya murmured, switching to Russian as he reached into the shade. “I have Snoopy in Montreal. I have Snoopy in Boston. I meet Snoopy in many places. I think you are following me, yes? Can I tame the Florida Snoopy now?”
Tampa Snoopy finally crawled out, sitting politely in front of Ilya. He looked panting and overheated, his brown eyes wide yet somehow relieved to see him.
“You wouldn’t happen to know where Hollander is?” He asked as his fingers found a familiar spot behind his ears. “I need to find him before I lose my mind."
The dog let out a soft huff that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. He leaned into Ilya’s touch, and Ilya pulled the creature onto his lap. The heat radiating off the dog was immense now, a searing, pulse-like warmth that made Ilya’s own skin tingle. And who was Ilya to deny such a good dog?
“Ah yes, you are like all Snoopys I have met and love this all,” Ilya teased. His hands moved around to pet, feeling the rapid thud of Tampa Snoopy’s heart. A happy bark erupted from Tampa Snoopy who shook in a somewhat shaking laugh, or whatever dog equivalent is.
Suddenly, Snoopy gave a sharp yelp. The air around them shimmered with heat, and the dog scrambled out of Ilya’s lap as if he’d been shocked.
“Where are you going?” Ilya couldn’t help but ask.
The dog didn’t answer with a bark. His eyes frantically moved between the bush and Ilya, before Tampa Snoopy bolted through the bushes and down toward the private stretch of beach.
“Fucking hell.” Ilya couldn’t go into the bushes like Tampa Snoopy could.
By the time he made his way down the beach, he didn’t see Tampa Snoopy, but Shane Hollander sitting in the sand alone, looking a little flushed and breathless. His hair a little messy but still so pretty.
Later, when Shane is on his lap holding him with the utmost care, Ilya believed this was better than all the cuddles the Snoopys ever gave him. But there was a strong warmth that Shane’s skin had that reminded him of white and black fur he’d pet so many times.
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+1: Ottawa 2017
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Ilya woke up to nobody to cuddle, which is stupid because wasn’t this the whole point of him being here? Where was the man who he finally said ‘I love you’ in two languages?
Ilya groaned as he slowly got out of bed. Rubbing his eyes, he slowly padded downstairs.
“Shane?” He called out. “Hollander? Where the fuck are you?”
The kitchen and living room were empty so Ilya made his way over to the door to the backyard and dock. Perched on the grass, Ilya found the familiar white and black coat with a tail lightly thumping.
“Hollander, did you hide your dog from me the past week?” Ilya called out once again and was surprised to see the dog’s face turn to him. Cottage Snoopy barked happily at the sight of him before running at him.
He couldn’t react verbally as the dog suddenly was jumping at him. All Ilya could do was hold out his arms and catch him just in time.
“Oh god, have you gotten heavier?” Ilya questioned as Cottage Snoopy licked his face over and over. “Ahhhh so many kisses! Shane will be jealous.”
A whine escaped from the mouth of the furry creature in his arms. Ilya looked at the dog for what felt like the hundredth time in all the years he had encountered a ‘Snoopy.’ Part of him felt like the Snoopys were a guardian angel from his mother, watching him as he parted ways from his home country.
But, Ilya’s eyes finally seemed to catch something unmistakable on the cheeks of the dog.
Freckles
It was a blink and you miss them as they were so faint. Most of the time Ilya was not seeing his Snoopys’ faces so close up or it was dark, but the times he had met his other Snoopys were clicking into place.
“Shane?” His voice wavered as he let his arms place Cottage Snoopy on the floor gently and sat on the floor.
Cottage Snoopy walked over to place himself into Ilya’s lap. His hand was buried in the soft scruff of the dog’s neck when the world seemed to warp. The fur under his fingers melted to the familiar heat of skin. The weight of his lap doubled, almost knocking Ilya to the floor if it wasn’t for the feeling of muscular arms engulfing Ilya in a familiar hug that he couldn’t help but reciprocate.
“Ilya,” Shane breathed, his voice muffled against Ilya's collarbone. He was shaking, his skin still fever-hot from the transformation. Ilya’s hands found their way back up onto the dark brown hair he grew to love and ran his hands through them.
Ilya pushed back a little before reaching up to cup Shane’s face. He traced the freckles he fell in love with all those years ago that he couldn’t believe he missed on Snoopys’ faces for all those years.
“You,” Ilya whispered, a wet laugh bubbling up. “Regina. Toronto. Boston. All the Snoopys... it was you? You followed me across North America to lick my face?”
Shane huffed, a blush creeping up his neck that was definitely human. “You looked like you were going to have a breakdown in Boston, okay? What was I supposed to do, let you cry alone? I couldn't exactly knock on your door as me.”
The weight of all the encounters made Ilya quiet. All those nights he thought he was alone, Shane had been there, disguised as a dog just to keep him company.
Ilya let out a wet laugh before he felt a poke on his belly.
“You are naked.”
“Is that really what you are saying to me after I reveal this big secret to you?” Shane squealed and Ilya felt his heart skip a little as Shane wiggled as Ilya kept his arms firmly around his waist. “You are actually a pervert.”
“A pervert for you.”
Shane rolled his eyes but affection was shining through his eyes. His lips began to wobble and Ilya had to gather him in his arms once again. It would be a crime not to with Shane.
“You aren’t mad though?” Shane asked quietly.
“No, you're my Snoopy,” Ilya whispered into his ear with a bite to accompany it. “Always there to comfort me.”
A huff tickled the back of his neck, “Are you sure?”
“I am not mad, Shane.” Ilya locked eyes with him to assure his boyfriend’s worries. “All Snoopys were very good dogs just like how you are very good boy.”
“Jesus Christ–”
“We need to get you a collar now like those valet boys recommended.”
“Please no!”
“Ok, Snoopy boxers then,” Ilya noted out loud seriously.
Shane pulled back from their embrace only to kiss him with all the love could ever want. Ilya would be stupid but to not return the gesture back.
“Maybe,” Shane spoke when they broke apart, “but can I get up and get some clothes now?”
“No, you should be naked all day.” Ilya deadpanned. “Less work for me.”
“Fuck you!”
“Now?” Ilya smirked.
“No!”
Ilya shrugged before he felt a shift on his lap. Snoopy Shane jumped out of his lap and bolted out of the room. Ilya’s cheeks are hurting with how wide he’s smiling and how hard he’s laughing.
His Snoopy wouldn’t disappear like all other times, this one was staying with him forever.