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Hayden was rambling on about the twins. Apparently they were going through a rough patch and were insisting on separate rooms. But the Pike’s had run out of bedrooms, so Jackie was looking at real estate and in the meantime, Hayden had put a line of masking tape across the entire length of the floor and hung a couple sheets on fishing line so that they each had their own distinct space.
“Gonna be hard to sell it like that,” JJ noted as they all slinked down the aisle to find seats on the plane. “With crazy tape everywhere.”
They’d just had a painful loss against Washington and we’re headed to Florida. They were going to be playing the Panthers while the Centaurs played the Lightning. It felt cruel that Shane and Ilya would be so close and yet… not close enough.
The league booked it like that so that they would both play on Saturday, the day after tomorrow, for Canadian Hockey Day. A new marketing ploy where they filled an entire day with as many games, featuring Canadian teams, as possible. The Metros had an noon game. Then Toronto played Boston at three. Then the Centaurs played Tampa at seven and finally on the west coast Vancouver played Calgary.
Hayden walked to the spot he knew Shane liked to sit. It was middle-rear just past the wing. He didn’t know why Shane liked to sit there, he just knew that’s where Shane always sat. Shane picked it because he’d read years ago that it was the safest place on a plane. He never told anyone that thought because he didn’t want to seem like he was a nervous flyer. He wasn’t, technically, he just liked to… be prepared.
Hayden let Shane take the window and dropped down beside him. Shane pulled out his phone and sent Ilya a quick text.
Shane: Hey. On our way to Sunrise. Facetime when I get to the hotel?
He also wanted to ask how his game went against Carolina but JJ could walk over at any moment or the coach, or anyone. Hayden wouldn’t think it was odd to ask “Lily” about playing hockey, but he was the only one. Everyone else thought Shane was gay and hopelessly single.
“So you got plans for tomorrow?” Hayden asked. He glanced down at Shane’s screen. “Other than sexting the old ball and chain when I’m not in the room.”
“No. I mean, I thought maybe I’d go for a walk on the beach because, it’s February and that’s always nice to do when it’s subzero back home,” Shane shrugged.
“You could drive there, to where your… where they are. Spend some time and drive back all in the same day,” Hayden suggested. “It’s only three hours away.”
“He’s with his team,” Shane whispers. “It would be hard to be… discrete.”
“They have the day off too. Get him to rent a car and you guys meet somewhere in the middle,” Hayden suggested and he started poking at his phone screen. “It’s like and hour and half for each of you if you meet in… Venus, Florida.”
The idea was brilliant but also reckless. And weird coming from Hayden. “Are you, like, actively finding ways for me to get laid? By your least favorite person on the planet?”
Shane lifted an eyebrow at Hayden who smiled sheepishly and shrugged as he put down his phone and started to grab his seatbelt. “Yeah. I guess. Because you play way better after a little…”
“Fuck off.”
“It’s true. It’s always been true, even before I realized that Lily was… Russian.” Hayden argued. “Plus, Jackie was talking about you two the other night.”
“She was?”
“Yeah and she was comparing it to how lonely she gets when I’m on road trips and she said the entire season...” Hayden glanced around and then lowered his voice even though he wasn’t speaking loudly to begin with and no one was paying attention to them, everyone lost in their own pre-flight routines. “The entire season is like one long road trip for you two. You barely get to string forty-eight hours together for months. And I realized how much that must suck.”
Shane was stunned. Hayden was so much better a person than Ilya ever gave him credit for. He tried to smile at his best friend, but he was suddenly really fucking sad. It did suck. A lot. Having someone else acknowledge that made it all too real. When it was just him and Ilya grinding through it, at least he could pretend it wasn’t a big deal.
Hayden smiled back at him and tipped his head to Shane as the rest of the team all finally settled into their seats. “I mean, personally, I would love as much time away from that Russian chaos goblin as possible but… like you have some weird disorder where you need that insanity to play well. So…”
“Fuck you,” Shane chuckled.
“So… you gonna do it? Rent the car?”
Shane shook his head. “No. It’s better if we keep it simple and stick to our regular routine.”
Hayden looked disappointed. Shane wondered if he tossed the idea out to Ilya if he would want to do it? I mean… yeah he probably would because he was, in fact, a bit of a chaos goblin. But Shane wasn’t and the stress of that idea —like what if the car broke down and he didn’t get back in time. What if someone in… where did Hayden say, Veneer? Venus? What if someone there recognized them? What if one of Ilya’s teammates grilled him too hard about where he was going? Too many what ifs.
His phone buzzed.
Lily: We kicked Carolina’s ass! Heading to airport now. Yes to Facetime. Always.
Shane smiled and sent him a heart emoji and a high five emoji for the win. He was thrilled Ilya’s team seemed to have found a winning rhythm lately. He knew a lot probably had to do with how good Ilya was as a captain. He smiled and reclined his seat.
Shane woke up to the feeling of falling. He hated those dreams and rarely had them so it was an even bigger shock. Only… it wasn’t a dream. The plane was plummeting. Everyone was screaming. Something warm and wet hit the side of Shane’s neck followed by a paper cup and he realized it was someone’s coffee. Hayden was bone white beside him. His hands griping both armrests and in panic, Shane had no option but to grip Hayden’s hand on top of the center armrest.
“What’s happening?” he said but no one answered.
Then, suddenly, the plane levels off.
“What the fuck!” Hayden yelled.
“Oh my god!”
“Jesus Christ!”
“I’m hurt!” Someone yelled. It was JJ two rows up. “I’m bleeding.”
Shane started to unbuckle his seatbelt but Hayden stopped him. “No.”
“He needs—”
“He doesn’t need you to die.” Hayden said and then, as if to prove a point, the plane plummeted again. A shorter drop this time but everyone screamed again.
“What’s wrong JJ? Tell me!” The coach barked out from two rows behind Shane on the other side of the aisle.
“Something hit my head. I’m bleeding!”
“I got it coach!” LeBeau called back. He usually sat next to JJ. “Applying pressure.”
Shane grabbed his phone. Or he tried to. Where the fuck was his phone? It was on the floor, he saw the silver case glint. He stretched and swore and managed to grab it after a frustrating second. He unlocked it and with shaking hands pulled up his text messages.
“Tabernak! Feu! There’s fire!” LeBeau screamed and Shane looked out the window. He could see flames —fucking flames!— licking the round edges of the engine at the front of the wing.
“Oh God. Jackie…” Hayden whispered. He dug frantically in his pocket for his phone.
“We’re fine. We will be fine.” Shane said loudly so more than just Hayden would hear. But he didn’t sound convincing.
Shane typed out a message to Lily.
Shane: Ilya. There’s a problem with the plane. I don’t know what’s happening. I think…
Shane gasped as the plane shook hard, like it was a toy in a dog’s mouth and the dog was attempting to shake it to death. The motion caused his thumb to slip and he hit send. The message didn’t send though. He had no service. So there was simply a spinning icon. Goddamnit.
“Fuck!” Hayden said. “I can’t reach her!”
“Try… Facebook? Instagram? Anything on Wi-Fi.”
Instagram. Shane pulled it up. He had only recently reinstalled it on his phone. He hated it, and all social media. But Ilya was on it more than him. He scrolled to Rozanov81 and hit the message button.
I love you. I love you so much. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for being so bold and strong and not giving up on me. You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me. You are my soulmate Ilya.
Shane sniffed. His vision blurred and he blinked.
The plane dipped again. More of his teammates screamed. Shane thought he had too because his throat was suddenly sore but he couldn’t remember screaming, He blinked again. His cheeks were wet.
I should have been better. I should have been bolder. You deserved that. But I gave you all I had. It wasn’t enough. I know that now. I am madly in love with you and always will be. Always. Do not let this kill you too. I love you. I need you to live. I’m sorry.
God he sounded crazy but this was crazy. He was scared for Ilya. He’d sacrificed so much for Shane and now Shane was… if Shane was going to die then Ilya did it for nothing. Shane fucked Ilya’s life and would never deliver on the pay off. There would be no lifetime to make it up to him.
He hit send and pulled up his mothers Instagram. He hit the message button on YHollanderHockeyMom and cried, openly, as he typed.
I love you both so much. Thank you for everything. You’re amazing parents and I should say that every day. If something happens… please take care of him. Please. He has no one. I love you both.
He managed to hit send and then the plane shook so violently his phone dropped and luggage began to spill from the overhead.
“Brace for impact!” The flight attendant demanded, her voice shrill. “Emergency positions!”
***
Ilya woke up as the Centaurs’ plane touched down. He stretched and yawned as he looked out the window at the hazy Florida landscape. The clouds were just starting to turn pink. He wanted to get to the hotel, check in and Facetime Shane.
“Holy fuck,” Bood said loudly from the seat behind Ilya.
“Are you talking about the Metros plane?” Harris called out. He was sitting with Troy across the aisle from Ilya.
“Yeah. Fuck.”
“What?” Ilya asked.
“Emergency landing,” Harris informed him. “And there were injuries.”
“My report says casualties.” Bood corrected, his tone serious for once. “Fuck, this is serious guys. Like… someone might be dead.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Coach Wiebe chided. But then. “Did they really say casualties?”
“What?” Ilya felt cold. Everywhere. “What do you mean? People are dead? No.”
“I don’t have all the details. But NBC says one of the engines caught fire and the pilot had trouble maintaining altitude. And yeah. They say casualties were reported too. That’s such an ominous word,” Harris said and his brow furrowed as he glanced up at Ilya. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. No. Not… No.” Ilya babbled and frantically searched his pockets for his phone. It wasn’t on him. He realized he put it in the pocket of the seatback in front of him. He grabbed it and shook as it unlocked.
There was a message.
Ilya. There’s a problem with the plane. I don’t know what’s happening. I think…
Ilya stared at the phone waiting for more. Another message. Something. There was nothing.
He immediately called Shane. He didn’t care who knew or heard whatever would come out of his mouth when he heard Shane’s voice. He didn’t give a shit about anything but talking to Shane.
Their own plane stopped taxing and his teammates started to slowly get up. All of them muttering in somber tones about the Metros ‘accident’.
“God, I hope they’re all okay,” Hayes said.
“They must be freaking out. Think they’ll still play tomorrow?” Someone else asked.
“Not if someone is dead.” Bood replied
“We don’t even think that, Boodram, let alone say it. Got it?” Coach warned, his tone stern.
“Sorry.” Bood replied. “It just sounds so serious.”
“Shut up!” Ilya barked. And covered his other ear so he could hear the phone better.
Shane did not pick up. Instead, he got voicemail.
“Hi this is Shane. Sorry I missed your call. Leave a message, thanks.”
“Call me. Now. Right away. Now.” Ilya said into the phone but his voice was thick and wobbly. “Fuck.”
He hung up.
He immediately opened google and searched “Metro’s plane crash.”
His teammates were filing off the jet, to the waiting bus that would take them to the hotel. Harris, sensing something was wrong, motioned for Troy to go ahead and waited across the aisle for Ilya.
There was a picture, taken from a terminal, far from the runway but it showed a plane, the round part on the wing that held the engine was singed black. The inflatable slides were hanging off every door. A fire truck and two ambulances were also visible. People were milling about but it was too fucking far away to see who they were. Or weren’t. He noticed some people were huddled together like they might be hugging?
Oh god. Oh fuck. Ilya couldn’t breathe. He bent his head and closed his eyes.
“Net. Net, pozhaluysta. Net yemu. Umolyayu vas.”
He dialed Shane again. He got voicemail again and hung up.
“Ilya…” Harris said softly and Ilya finally looked up. They were the only people left on the plane.
“Sorry. I… Sorry.” He started to stand up, too fast. He hit the back of his head on the overhead compartment. “Fuck!”
“Ilya,” Harris said again softly. “Tell me. Whatever this is. Tell me.”
“I can’t. He won’t let me,” Ilya whispered and swallowed but there was this terrible lump and it hurt. Like someone had shoved a jagged piece of granite into his esophagus. He was dying. He really fucking was. And if Shane was gone… he’d welcome it.
“Do you want me to call someone? A doctor? An ambulance?” Harris asked softly.
“No. I’m… No…” Ilya finally made it into the aisle. “Can you call the Metros social media manager? Or someone? Anyone over there?”
“This is about the Metros?” Harris didn’t seemed entirely shocked but he did seem a little confused. “Of course. You are friends with Shane.”
“Yes. I’m….” Ilya choked. On nothing. On everything.
Harris reached over and patted his back. His eyes were so gentle. So kind. And Ilya finally was hit with the reality that if Shane was gone… he had no one. And the worst part was not a single person would understand that.
Ilya touched Harris’ shoulder and locked eyes with him. “I’m in love with him and he’s not answering his phone. I need to know if he is okay.”
“Oh. I… wow. Yes. Of course.” Harris was also white now. “Oh my God of course. I’ll see what I can do.”
Ilya nodded and stumbled his way off the plane. Grabbing his leather knapsack but forgetting his carryon in the overhead bin so Harris grabbed it for him, with his own laptop bag and followed him off the plane.
Ilya tried to call Shane again. Voicemail.
Rage washed over him. How could he not fucking answer his phone? He must know that Ilya would find out and try to contact him. He must know he sent Ilya that cryptic message. He should make answering Ilya’s call his very top priority. Ilya would. He would do that. Shane wasn’t an asshole. He should pick up.
Unless… Shane can’t pick up his phone because he’s dead.
Ilya stopped abruptly, four feet from the open door of the waiting bus. He turned, bent over, and puked everywhere.
“Holy shit! Roz is sick.” Troy called out from the stairs of the bus.
It was quick, violent, and embarrassing but Ilya didn’t even care. He wiped at his mouth with the sleeve of his suit jacket and contemplated losing consciousness because it felt like the logical next step and he didn’t want to be awake right now. He wanted to be dreaming of a world that wasn’t this. Where Shane was beside him.
Harris ran over to him. He had his phone to his ear. He was calling someone. “I’m trying to get the Metro’s social media manager. And then I’m calling a doctor.”
“No doctor. Just Metros.” Ilya replied.
Troy was beside him suddenly, gently touching his shoulder. “Man, let’s get you on the bus.”
And that’s when Ilya’s phone rang. His heart stopped and he turned the screen to see the name Yuna Hollander. This was it. This was Shane’s mother calling to tell him the light in both their lives was gone.
“Why is Shane’s mom…” Troy stopped talking and his eyes went wide.
Ilya took three shaky steps away from everyone, toward the front of the bus. He looked at the sky as the phone rang a third time. “YA budu luchshe. YA stanu luchshe. Tol'ko ne yemu. Bozhe, pozhaluysta. Net. YA ne mogu. YA ne vyzhivu. Mama, pozhaluysta, pomogi.”
It was a prayer. An offer. A bargain. A plea. To a God he wasn’t sure he believed in, but also to his mother who he did believe was there, always, looking out for him.
He put the phone to his ear with one hand and pressed the fingers to the cross at his neck with the other. “Yuna?”
“Ilya, there was a problem with the Metro’s plane.” Yuna started and Ilya felt a calm blanket him. Her voice was too even. Too relaxed. Too normal. Ilya knew he wasn’t dead. “He’s fine. I mean physically. Obviously emotionally he’s freaked out but he’s okay. His phone is… missing. Somewhere on the plane.”
“Thank you. Oh god. Thank God. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah I am… well I’m not. But I will be. He asked me to call you. He’s at the hospital with JJ who needs stitches, and their goalie or someone has more serious injuries but everyone will live” Yuna explained. “Your number is in his phone but he doesn’t know it by heart. But he made me promise to call as soon as you were supposed to be on the ground.”
“I should go. My team thinks… I am having some kind of breakdown.”
“I’m sure you are,” Yuna said softly. “He’s okay. One hundred percent. Deep breathes Ilya. Everything is fine.”
“Yes. Good. Fine. Thank you.” He was already walking, almost confidently, to the bus.
“He’ll call you as soon as he can. He said to tell you he loves you and he’s sorry about the Instagram messages.” Yuna added. “Call me if you need me Ilya.”
“Thank you. You too. Callback if you need to talk.”
Ilya side-stepped his vomit and boarded the bus. He kept his head down and looked at no one and no one spoke a word, to him or each other. He sat by himself at the back of the bus. His fingers itched to open Instagram but he forced himself to wait. He had a feeling that whatever Shane had said there would break him again and he’d given his team enough of a show.
When they got to the hotel, Ilya got his key from the desk and marched straight to elevators. Harris chased after him. He gave Ilya his bag. Ilya looked around to make sure they were relatively alone. “He’s fine. Thank you. His mother called to tell me.”
“I couldn’t get through to their social media manager,” Harris explained. “But I’m glad he’s okay.”
“Yes. Me too.” The elevator opened and Ilya stepped in and punched the Close button but Harris slipped in beside him.
Ilya rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was… I made a scene.”
“You thought the man you love was…” Harris, thankfully, did not finish that sentence. He gave Ilya a gentle smile. “I would have reacted the same way if I had someone I loved.”
Ilya eyed him now. Harris was such a sweet, kind man and he did have someone who liked him but this was not the time for Ilya to play match maker. He just nodded and then, he said what he knew Shane would want him to say. “It would mean a lot to me if you could keep what I said private.”
Did that make sense? Was he being clear? His English escaped him when he was tired or scared or angry or panicked and he was all of those things in this moment.
“Of course.” Harris said quickly. “I would never tell anyone what you told me. I’m a vault.”
“Thank you.”
Harris watched the floors climb. They were two from Ilya’s floor which must be Harris’ too because he didn’t hit another button. “But… I mean, there is someone you should tell.”
Ilya stared at him. Harris gave him a gentle, encouraging smile. “You should tell Shane how you feel. I heard… I mean I hate gossip but I have heard the rumors that he is possibly gay. And if that’s true… I mean you two have become close obviously so maybe he might feel the same way.”
Ilya stared at Harris and blinked and then… he smiled. Ridiculously big. And he could feel something in his throat that wasn’t a rock. It was laughter. It burst out of him before he could stop it and he slapped an hand over his mouth.
“Come on Roz, it’s not such a hilarious idea!” Harris argued with his whole, innocent, oblivious but earnest heart. “You’re a great looking guy and you have a heart of gold even though you try to hide it behind… snark and fake egotism. Shane would be lucky to have you.”
“He really would,” Ilya agreed, as he finally managed to reign in his laughter. The doors opened and he held them so Harris could step out first but he refrained.
“I’m gonna go up another floor. I need to talk to Troy about something.”
Ilya smiled. “Good idea. Talking to Troy.”
Harris looked confused. Ilya winked at him as the doors closed. He made his way to his room. As the door close, he dropped his bags, stepped out of his shoes and collapsed onto the bed. Curling onto his side he immediately opened Instagram.
The flood of messages tore apart what fragile sense of peace Ilya had managed to conjure up since Yuna’s call. The messages were panicked. Desperate. And terrifyingly regretful.
I should have been better. I should have been bolder. You deserved that.
I’m sorry.
Shane thought he was dying and he was full of regret?
Ilya sobbed.
***
2.5 hours later…
“You are the best best friend in the world.”
“I know.” Hayden said as he pulled off the interstate. “I mean it wasn’t like I was going to sleep at all tonight anyway.”
When they were leaving the hospital once JJ was patched up and their back-up goalie had his broken arm set —he had been in the bathroom for the whole thing and broke his arm being tossed around— Shane told Hayden he was renting a car and driving to Tampa and Hayden insisted he go with him. He didn’t want Shane driving three hours by himself, without a phone, in his frantic head space.
Shane’s phone, and several other players phones, had been damaged after becoming projectiles. Hayden’s phone was fine though so they started their drive facetiming Jackie and the kids. Everyone was in good spirits, for the kid’s sake but Shane could see Jackie still had red eyes and that she had been sobbing with Hayden on the phone earlier.
“I wish I could call Ilya,” Shane lamented. “I need to actually memorize numbers. I’m a fucking idiot.”
“Wait. You haven’t called him? At all?”
“I had my mom call him so he knows I’m okay.” Shane replied.
“He’s in my text messages.”
“What? Really? Why?” Shane was stunned.
“Sometimes he messages me,” Hayden said. “I think Jackie gave him my number. I don’t know. He likes to troll me. I get shit like “You scored goal tonight. Is mercury in retrograde?”
Shane’s mouth fell open. He had no fucking idea.
“He’s saved in there as R.C.G.”
“What the fuck does that stand for?”
“Russian Chaos Goblin.”
Shane scrolled through Hayden’s text list until he found a message from R.C.G and opened the thread. He didn’t stop to read anything he just typed.
Hayden: It’s me Shane.
R.C.G.: Shane? Really?
Hayden: Yes. My phone is broken. I’m using Hayden’s.
Then the phone started ringing.
“Hi.” Shane said into it. There was a long pause. Then Shane heard a strangled sound. “Ilya. I’m okay.”
“Good.” Ilya managed. The sound of his voice so choked up with emotion had Shane crying immediately. He turned to look out the window. Hayden politely paid extra close attention to the road, ignoring the scene next to him.
“I’m okay.” Shane reconfirmed.
“I was… I have never been so scared.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Your messages. Shane.”
“I was freaking out. I probably didn’t even make sense.” Shane mumbled and wiped at his eyes before the tears could fall again. “Where are you?”
“At the hotel.” Ilya said. “My room.”
“Who is your roommate?”
“I… I made a scene. When I found out there was an accident and couldn’t reach you,” Ilya said softly, like he was embarrassed. “I think my team thinks I’m having a breakdown. Coach got Carmichael his own room. Said he thought I could use space. ”
“Do they know it was over the Metros?”
There was a pause. “No. The timing was… I mean I don’t know. I think maybe they think panic attack? But I never said it was because of Metros. It wasn’t because of Metros, Shane.”
“I know.” Shane sniffed. “I’m so glad I can hear your voice.”
“Me too.” Ilya agreed. “It’s not enough.”
“It’s not.”
“I… I was really…. Not okay.” Ilya confessed, his voice so quiet and so soft, not at all the confident, snarky tone that was his signature. “I told Harris.”
“You told Harris? What? About… us?”
“He won’t say anything. He promised and I believe him,” Ilya said firmly like he was preparing for Shane to argue. “I was alone and he was worried about me. I just said… that I loved you. I thought he could find out what was going on. He knows the Metros staff and I… I was not thinking. I couldn’t think.”
Shane swallowed and took a deep slow breath. He didn’t care. He had learned one thing during this experience and it was he had cared too much about so much that didn’t fucking matter. “It’s fine. I would have done the same.”
“You wouldn’t have,” Ilya argued. “You’re so much stronger than me, Shane. You would have… you would have been okay. If it was me and not you.”
Hayden pulled into the parking lot at the hotel where the Centaurs were staying. Shane’s heart sped up and he sincerely wondered if yet another dose of adrenaline today was going to kill him.
“You are okay. I am okay.” Shane said. Hayden turned off the car and got out. “Can I get back to you in, like ten minutes?”
“What?”
“Trust me. Give me ten minutes.”
“Fine. Okay.” Ilya didn’t sound like it was fine or okay.
It was also almost one in the morning but Shane knew Ilya wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon anyway. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
Shane ended the call and got out of the car. Hayden walked beside him as they entered the lobby. His eyes were wide and darting back and forth. “Enemy territory.”
Shane smiled at that. “It’s fine. They’re all in bed I’m sure.”
“I’ll check in. You go find your man.” Hayden said. They’d actually booked two rooms online because Shane expected Ilya to have a roommate.
Hayden motioned for Shane to head to the elevators but he didn’t have Ilya’s room number. So he paused to text him from Hayden’s phone again.
Hayden: Me again. Hayden needs his phone. Give me your room number and I’ll call there.
R.C.G.: 1842
Shane handed Hayden his phone and jogged to the elevator.
***
Ilya jumped at the knock on the door. His eyes moved to the time on his phone. Who the fuck was knocking on his door at one in the morning? He was in only underwear but he didn’t care. All the players had seen him in less. Hell, Harris had too.
Emotionally, he was in a place he couldn’t describe. He was drained but relieved. Something broke inside him when he thought he had lost Shane and, after reading those Instagram messages, he didn’t know if he would… could ever be the same. And then… Shane had taken forever to call him.
After leaving him those messages, knowing what Ilya would be thinking… sure he had Yuna call but he waited hours to actually let Ilya hear his voice. That felt… mean.
Ilya looked through the peep hole and almost ripped the door off its hinges opening it. Shane smiled at him. He looked… perfect. Healthy. Strong. Alive.
And then Ilya couldn’t see him clearly because tears would not stop falling from his eyes. Fuck. Shane’s hands were on his waist, just above his waistband, pushing him gently back into the room. Ilya wrapped his arms around Shane’s shoulders and held on.
Somewhere in the back of his brain he wondered if this was a psychotic break. If he was hallucinating because Shane would never be here. Shane would never risk getting caught by Ilya’s team or press or anyone. He wouldn’t.
“This is you? This is real?” Ilya said as the door closed behind them.
“It’s me. I’m here.” Shane replied, his voice a little rough, uneven, but definitely Shane. “Look at me. Look.”
Ilya blinked. Shane reached up and used his thumbs to wipe away Ilya’s tears. He smiled at Shane. “Oh my God. You’re here.”
“I’m here,” Shane confirmed and he used his hands on Ilya’s face to guide their mouths together. The kiss was soft to the point of being weak. But it was a kiss. “Ilya, stop. You’re making me cry.”
Ilya sniffed and fought for control. He took a shuddering breath and then he pulled Shane closer and kissed him again. Stronger, deeper, his tongue pressing against Shane’s. “YA tebya lyublyu.”
“YA tebya lyublyu.” Shane repeated. “Can we stop wearing clothes now? And stop crying? I need you. I need to feel you. On me. In me.”
Ilya wiped his face. He took a step back and looked at Shane. He had so much he needed to say but… He closed the gap between them and claimed Shane’s mouth, kissing him long, hard and deep.
Without hesitation he started to tug at Shane’s shirt, pulling it out of his dress pants. He was in suit pants and a white t-shirt that didn’t fit right and probably wasn’t his. He smelled of coffee and cologne. He pulled Shane’s T-shirt off and yanked at Shane’s belt while Shane desperately shoved his hand into Ilya’s underwear.
They kept their mouths on each other like it was a rule. Kissing, licking, sucking, tasting each other. Breathing each other in. Once Shane’s pants were at his ankles and he stepped out of them, Ilya pressed his palms into the back of Shane’s thighs and lifted him up.
Shane wrapped his legs around Ilya’s hips and Ilya carried him to the bed. Dropping Shane gently onto the rumpled sheets, Ilya kissed him breathless and then, pulled back, reaching for Shane’s underwear and yanking it off. He didn’t play or tease. He slid down between Shane’s thighs, pushed his legs up and apart, and licked at his hole until Shane was panting his name.
“Ilya, please. I need you.” Shane had his hand wrapped around his own dick, his back arching and his eyes closed.
Ilya got off the bed and hunted around in his toiletry bag in his open suitcase for the travel-sized lube. He froze for a second.
“Ilya. Fuck. Come on!” He turned toward the bed and Shane said. “Take off your fucking underwear. Now.”
Ilya pushed his boxer briefs to the ground and stepped out of them. Shane sat up and stretched an arm to Ilya. “Come closer.”
“I…” he swallowed. “Shane I don’t have condoms.”
Of course he didn’t. He didn’t need them on road trips.
They’d vaguely discussed the idea of not using them. They were committed. They were both clean. It wasn’t a big deal. But neither had actually decided it was time. Why? What were they waiting for?
“So?” Shane wrapped his fingers around Ilya’s wrist and pulled him to the bed. Ilya, dropped one knee between Shane’s legs and leaned forward, their torso’s pressed into each other. Shane’s skin was smooth and so warm. And if Ilya laid perfectly still and held his breath he could feel Shane’s heart —his good, beautiful, kind heart— beating.
Shane kissed the top of Ilya’s head then he reached down to angle Ilya’s head upward so he could capture Ilya’s mouth. “I need you. I need this.”
“I do too,” Ilya kissed him.
Moments later Ilya’s slick cock pushed its way past Shane’s entrance, bare for the first time. They moved slowly but with purpose. They whispered words of love and lust and Shane grabbed Ilya’s hips so hard Ilya knew there would be bruises and he welcomed them. And when Shane came Ilya watched with wonder and love and so much gratitude he thought he might cry. But then he let his own release take over.
He collapsed on top of Shane. Closing his eyes, Ilya tried to sear the feeling of Shane’s sweaty body into his core memory forever. The way he fit against Shane, the sticky warmth of his release, messing Ilya’s belly too. It was all just perfect.
Shane was warm, he was solid, he was alive. Shane sighed and slipped his hands into Ilya’s curls, tugging them between his fingers. “I’m still here. I’m still yours.”
“Your messages. They were so sad,” Ilya whispered into Shane’s collarbone. “I didn’t know you felt so much regret.”
“I didn’t either until I realized… no one would ever know I loved you.” Shane whispered and Ilya couldn’t take a breath. It hurt too much. “I was so happy and so… proud to be yours and if I died… no one would ever know.”
“I would know,” Ilya replied fighting tears again. “Your parents know. Hayden. But most importantly I know.”
“Everyone will know.” Shane said firmly. “Now. Not in ten years. Not when we retire. Now.”
Ilya lifted his head and looked down at his boyfriend. “What?”
“I’m here because I’m not hiding,” Shane replied. His browed pinched a little. “I mean, I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to be able to… die knowing that the best part of my life wasn’t a secret.”
“I don’t want you to die at all. Ever,” Ilya replied. Brushing Shane’s hair off his forehead and wishing he could place a kiss there but it would require moving and Ilya’s slowly softening cock was still inside Shane and he wanted to keep it that way.
Shane smiled. “I don’t want you to die either. But if God forbid either of us do, I want the world to know we loved each other.”
“So… what? How do we do that?”
“Tomorrow we wake up and walk out of this room together,” Shane explained. “And we are just…. Together. Unless you like have a practice or a team outing planned or—”
“It’s off day. They’re talking about going to the beach but I can do anything.”
“Okay well, I mean.. I can do something with you. If you want,” Shane looked overwhelmed. “I mean. I just… I just had to see you. I had to… I guess I should ask you if you’re okay with being out.”
“Yes. Yeah. I want that.” Ilya replied quickly. “Long before this nightmare. I wanted it.”
“I thought so. I…” Shane’s big brown eyes filled with tears again. “I’m sorry. I made you hide. What the fuck does it all matter anyway? Why was I so—”
“Stop. No regrets,” Ilya commanded. “Also no more tears. We are going to die of dehydration. Together. And no one will know what happened. And they’ll find us and think we somehow murdered each other or something. And we’ll go down as the dehydrated death rivals.”
Shane laughed. He bubbled out of him and it made Ilya smile so wide his face hurt.
“You’re a total loon,” Shane said when he finally regained his composure.
“Me? A stupid Canadian Wolf Bird?” Ilya’s eyes were wide. “No. I’m just… exhausted. And what is the word when you get so scared it stays with you forever.”
“Traumatized,” Shane said and Ilya nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“No more sorrys,” Ilya insisted as his dick finally slipped out of Shane. “No regrets.”
“None. Not another as long as we live…” Shane promised.
A few seconds later Ilya heard Shane mumble something about the bathroom and cleaning up but neither of them moved.
Shane woke first, feeling warm and euphoric, his naked back pressed into Ilya’s naked chest. Ilya’s arm was draped possessively over Shane’s lower stomach, the back of his fingers limp against Shane’s soft cock. He felt content… and then he remembered.
His body tenses involuntarily and his throat felt tight. His heartbeat skittish. He closed his eyes and focused on the feel of Ilya, the warmth of Ilya. The safety of Ilya. Shane was fine. Everyone was fine. Life would go on and Shane would live it better than he had been.
“Shane.”
“Ilya.”
He felt Ilya’s lips press into the back of his neck just under his hairline. “You can change your mind. We can sneak you out of here. It’s okay. I would understand.”
Shane turned until he was facing Ilya who had sleepy eyes and a pillow crease by the mole on his cheek. Shane traced it with his finger. “If you want that, I’ll do that.”
“I don’t.”
“Neither do I,” Shane replied his eyes moving from Ilya’s mouth to his eyes. “I’m not wasting another minute pretending.”
Ilya smiled. Shane had seen so many versions of smiles on Ilya’s face over the years. Too many to count. But this… this was a new one. Soft and dreamy but somehow as bright as the sun. It instantly became Ilya’s favorite. “Okay. Good. Now what?”
Shane huffed out a gentle laugh. “Now we shower. Because we’re covered in dried cum.”
Shane kissed his chastely and started to get out of bed. Ilya reached for him greedily. “I don’t know. I think maybe if we tell people like this —naked and covered in it—people will have easier time believing us.”
Shane stood up. “You think people aren’t going to believe us?”
“Your parents couldn’t believe it. Why would anyone else?”
Ilya may have had a point. Oh well. Shane didn’t give a shit. He was going to tell people and then he was going to stop hiding and whether people believed it, or liked it, didn’t matter. He reached out for Ilya’s hand. “Come on. Shower.”
They sucked each other off in the shower and when they finally emerged Ilya’s phone was ringing. He reached for it on the nightstand. “Is Hayden?”
“Yeah. That makes sense.” Shane motioned at the phone. “Answer it. On speaker.”
Ilya looked down at Hayden’s name like it was a cockroach crawling across his screen, but he did what Shane asked. “Hey Ilya. How was your night?”
“Good. I got laid.” Ilya replied and Shane rolled his eyes. “By my not dead boyfriend.”
“Hey Hayden,” Shane called out. “Are you starving?”
“Yeah. Totally. Didn’t mean to interrupt but I’m kinda scared to go down to the lobby alone. Enemy territory.” Hayden told Shane.
Ilya’s face twisted in confusion. “Hayden is here?”
Now Shane looked confused. “I was talking to you on his phone and then I appeared at your door. How did you think that happened? He drove here with me yesterday. He didn’t want me to do it alone.”
Ilya’s mouth dropped but he picked it back up fairly quickly. “Oh.”
“So… can you two put your clothes back on long enough to eat with me? Please?” Hayden asked. “I hear there’s a killer waffle joint just down the road.”
“Shane doesn’t eat waffles.” Ilya said.
“I think I do today,” Shane replied.
They met Hayden in the lobby, both emerging form elevators almost at the same time. Troy and Harris were walking back into the hotel holding coffee cups from Starbucks. They both stopped dead when they saw the Metros players with Ilya.
Shane reached for Ilya’s hand and held it. Right there. In the lobby. Both Troy and Harris’ noticed. Troy’s eyes widened. Harris’s mouth hit the marble floor.
“Hi guys. Don’t worry we are not kidnaping your captain or anything,” Shane said with a friendly but nervous smile. “I just… well we had that plane thing and I wanted… I decided…”
Ilya looked at Harris. “He decided he is in love with me.”
Shane’s head snapped up to Ilya and he glared. Ilya smiled at him and then looked back at Harris and Troy. Harris had his jaw on the floor again. Troy cleared his throat. “Okay. Well… congrats, right?”
“Yes. I’m very lucky,” Ilya said and squeezed Shane’s hand in his.
“I’m really glad you are all okay. I heard there were casualties.” Troy said his eyes darting between Hayden and Shane and then back to Shane’s hand in Ilya’s and then he tried to focus on their faces again.
“Our back-up goalie broke an arm and JJ got cut but we were truly lucky.” Hayden said. “And I’m not in love with Ilya. I just drove Shane here.”
“He maybe has a little crush.” Ilya added. “Who doesn’t?”
“I don’t.” Hayden barked.
Shane rolled his eyes again.
“Holy fuck…” the voice came from behind them, by the elevators. It was Hayes and Bood was right behind him, his big brown eyes almost falling out of his head.
“Hi. I’m… I…”
“Shane is my boyfriend and he came to see me because of everything yesterday,” Ilya said simply. “Questions?”
“Is that why you puked?” Bood asked. “Because Shane was in the plane crash?”
“It wasn’t a crash. Just a fucking terrifying emergency landing.” Hayden corrected.
“You puked?’ Shane said staring at Ilya while the color drained from his face and Ilya’s flooded with it.
“I ate something bad.”
“Oh my God it all makes sense now,” Troy said. “It wasn’t a panic attack. You were sick with worry. You thought…”
“Okay. It’s not important. He’s here. He’s fine.”
“Oh shit. That’s like.. the most painfully romantic thing I’ve ever seen, Roz.” Hayes announced.
“No. it’s not. It’s…” Ilya looked so ridiculously uncomfortable that Hayden grinned.
Shane wanted to do nothing but kiss him. So… he cupped Ilya’s cheek and he did. A soft, slightly lingering press of their lips. Ilya’s smile after that was that new favorite smile of Shane’s.
“Well shit. Now that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Hayes announced. “How long has this been going on?”
“Yeah, not to be nosy but I would love to know,” Harris added. “Would have saved me an embarrassing pep talk in the elevator yesterday.”
Shane looked confused. Harris elaborated. “He told me he loved you and I thought it was like, a secret crush so I told him to talk to you. Shoot his shot.”
Shane smiled. “He did. Rookie season.”
“ROOKIE SEASON?” Bood and Troy barked it out together.
“Summer before, technically,” Shane corrected himself.
“What the actual fuck?” Hayes looked at Hayden and blinked. “Is this an alternate universe? Like, are they for real? Ilya Lady Killer Rozanov has been knocking skates with Shane Boy Scout Hollander since before they even played in the NHL?”
“I guess?” Hayden shrugs. “It makes a surprising amount of sense when you see them together. Seriously. It’s fucking nuts.”
“So… my boyfriend and his fourth line friend are starving. We are getting waffles. Anyone want to come?” Ilya asked.
“I’m not fourth line.” Hayden griped
“I will.” Hayes said.
“I could eat.” Troy added.
“I just scarfed down half the hotel buffet but beach later?” Bood says and heads for the door. “I was going for a run.”
“I’ll come and maybe we can talk… how this is going to play out. Publicly?” Harris said gently. “I mean, we should have a bit of a social media strategy.”
“Okay fine. We talk over waffles.” Ilya said and Shane nodded.
They kept their hands joined as they left the hotel and on the entire short walk to the Waffle House where they slid into the booth beside each other and Shane dropped a hand onto Ilya’s thigh under the table.
“I’m on the first line, Rozanov.” Hayden corrected, again.
“Oh we know. I fucking hate facing you and Hollanderon the same line. It’s exhausting.” Troy muttered with a smile.
Ilya looked at Hayden and his face softened, the snark gone entirely for the first time since Hayden had ever laid eyes on Ilya. “I know. You are first liner on the Metros. And you are a first line friend too, Pike. Thank you for taking care of him when I can’t.”
“Yeah. You’re welcome.” Hayden blinked. ”Fuck this really is the Twilight Zone.”
“And I’m happy you did not die too,” Ilya said and a snarky grinned flashed once more. “Jackie would have a terrible time finding a new man with all those baby Pikes. I mean they are great kids but…”
“And we’re back. Fuck you Roz.”
“You probably wish you could but I have a boyfriend, sorry.”
“Jesus Christ,” Shane laughed.
Ilya and Shane ate with his teammates and devised a soft launch of this relationship with Harris. Then they went to the beach where Harris took some candids of Ilya and Shane hanging out, while the rest of the Centaurs played volleyball or swam.
He sent the photos to Ilya and then Hayden took a nap in his room while Shane and Ilya drove to a local mall to get Shane a new phone. It took forever to set up at the Apple store and two people recognized them and asked for pictures which they posed for together. No one thought it was weird they were together, probably because of their summer camp. The one fan said he heard about the plane thing and was happy the Metros were okay even though he was a Tampa fan. Shane smiled and thanked him.
By the time they got back to the hotel Hayden was checking out. They’d have to drive back to Sunrise shortly. Ilya and Shane went up to Ilya’s hotel room so Shane could change out of the shorts and t-shirt he’d borrowed from Ilya and back into the clothes he arrived in. They kissed, but there wasn’t time for more.
As Shane changed, Ilya sent the photos Harris took to Shane’s new phone. Then they sat on the bed and each loaded the same one to Instagram. It was a picture of the two of them sitting in the sand, side-by-side, very close. Arms touching, fingers tangled in the sand but you couldn’t really see that from the angle of the photo. They both looked windswept and content. Ilya’s cheeks were pink from the sun. Shane’s freckles looked darker than usual.
Shane’s caption. “Yesterday was the scariest day of my life. I’m happy I got to wake up today and spend it with my favorite person.”
Ilya’s caption was simpler. “The game matters but the people in it matter more. Glad the Metros are okay. Glad my Shane is okay.”
“One, two, three, post.” Ilya said and they both did.
“Holy shit.” Shane whispered.
“Yeah. Holy shit.” Ilya smiled. “I love you.”
““YA tebya lyublyu.” Shane replied. “And now I have no regrets.”