Chapter Text
Why he'd agreed to creating this video he'd never know, Ilya had been the one to suggest the idea and Shane was feeling fairly tired of hiding after all these years; he wanted to be close with Ilya in public, share his love with him for everyone.
But now that they had made the video, he was feeling far less comfortable and contemplating if it would be a good idea after all.
Ilya was lying on their bed on his stomach, with his hair a lot more ruffled than it had started and his ankles were crossed and raised as he stared intensely at his phone perfecting every detail.
Shane was deep in concentration, staring at every line on Ilya's face, every mole and bone, at the way his brow was furrowed in gentle concentration and the way his cheeks were still faintly flushed from their activities.
God he loved him.
A lot.
Sometimes too much, he thought.
And as he stared, he noticed his own breathing getting slightly too heavy as his heart beat wildly in his chest, he tried to block it out- really he did- it was a shame that Ilya loved him enough to notice.
"Shane, love, we don't have to post, we can just put in drafts or delete and no-one has to know." Ilya had lay his phone down and pushed himself up to wrap his arms around Shane- like a blanket.
"I-" he sighed, "I do want to do this, it just feels like a risk and I don't know how people will respond and they might hate me and my parents might kill me- or at least my mum will- and Montreal probably will because they're always making homophobic comments and I've only met your teammates on the ice so they hardly know me and they might hate you and they shouldn't hate you because you are the most amazing person ever even if you are an asshole but you deserve to be loved like I love you and-" he was cut off.
"You're going a mile a minute, you need to slow down." he stated, (and Shane was unsure where he'd learnt the phrase) pressing a sweet kiss to his temple, something so tender and soft that Shane accidentally let out a sob.
"I'm sorry." But Ilya shushed him and continued to do so every time he tried to speak.
As he rocked him gently back and forth, he murmured, "You don't get to apologise- silly Canadian- is ok, is scary, we delete and we have shower and forget this happened and I make bed and then I make dinner, da?"
One of Ilya's best features (other than the obvious) were that he let Shane cry because sometimes that was the best thing one could do for a person.
So as Shane's crying slowly subsided, he shook his head and looked at Ilya with his red-rimmed eyes and found Ilya already staring at him.
"I think, we could post it?"
Something in Ilya shifted, it was like he'd gone from being concerned to being hungry again- just like how he'd been before they'd filmed the video. But this was a different kind of hunger; this was the kind of hunger you experienced when you'd been craving something for awhile and you'd finally found it and been allowed it.
Sometimes, Shane found eating hard- like it was something he did as only a necessity rather than for enjoyment, and he could recognise that Ilya's hunger could've been akin to that.
But it wasn't that. It was so much deeper.
That's when it clicked, Ilya had wanted this- wanted them for so long, and he was so close to getting it.
But Shane was scared.
So Shane had to be brave.
No, this wasn't the most conventional way to come out. Yet it was... them.
It was almost laughable for how well it suited them.
"Yes, I- I think we should, if you still want to?"
Ilya was clearly holding back a beam, "Are you sure- we don't have to post this, we can do different type of video?"
"Well we've gone to all this effort..." he joked, a smile playing on his lips.
Gazing lovingly at Ilya as a smile broke out on his face was something Shane would never tire of, he would also never tire of the way Ilya surged forward to kiss him and what a kiss it was!
Purely romantic, and so so so very familiar, but also like nothing he'd ever felt before.
As they parted (very much against Shane's will- which was evident by his pout) Ilya whispered against his lips, "Thank you."
And Shane felt cruel, like Mother Gothel, depriving Rapunzel of the world she wanted to touch for all those years- but at least he didn't make Ilya wait almost two decades, one was already more than enough.
Ilya picked up his phone again, Shane traced his movement, eyes drawn to the cracks in the screen that ran over the cover image- discreet enough to not be noticed by moderators.
A brief moment of panic struck him again as Ilya's thumb hovered over the post button, but when he looked at him with those insightful blue eyes. Fuck. He could've posted anything and Shane would've forgiven him, told him he loved him and dealt with the aftermath.
So he nodded, despite the bubble of anxiety within his stomach.
So Ilya pressed post.
And somehow, the bubble burst and he felt weirdly free. Like he'd been holding a breath for way too long and he'd finally released it.
Fuck it felt good.
It took him a minute to realise that he was laughing his head off, like an idiot, and Ilya was looking at him with such concern that he wanted to laugh even more.
"Shane?"
"Do you know how much I love you?"
Ilya's face went pink and a delicate smile bloomed on his face, "I love you too, more than I have the words for in all of my languages."
Shane kissed him, Ilya kissed back.
He was in love.
He was happy.
And his mind just said Ilya Ilya Ilya Ilya Ilya Ilya Ilya Ilya and if it didn't shut up soon he might start crying from all the love.
"I can love you! After all of this time!" Shane giggled.
And he could've sworn that Ilya's heart was melting or something because the look he gave him was so much like the way they described love in fairytales.
"I can't wait," Ilya truthfully spoke, "come, let's shower, no more dirtiness for you."
So they undressed for the fourth time within those two hours, much less ravenous this time, because they had so much of it- time, that is.
* * *
Shane had texted his parents apologising for the backlash they might receive from the video and hadn't awaited a response before both he and Ilya shut their phones off and showered, then cooked dinner together (simple pasta and tomato sauce because Shane hadn't wanted anything else) then they'd gone outside to look at the stars.
Their fingers were tangled lazily together and Ilya was pointing at one of the constellations, "That is bear- my mama always told me about it." he took a sharp breath and Shane looked at him, then back at the stars, "she loved that one most, she told me to look for her when I saw it, because she would be dancing with it, I imagine her there sometimes. I don't know, sorry, is stupid"
Shane didn't think it was stupid at all actually, "Look," he pointed with his unattached hand, "that bright star, I think that's her."
Ilya huffed a wet laugh, "Yes, I think maybe."
An idea came to Shane and he was jumping to his feet, "Hi Irina!" he shouted, waving into the sky, he knew no one would hear them from the cottage, "I wish I could've met you, I know I would've liked you a lot. Your son misses you. I know it's not your fault and we both know that it was not and never will be his!"
He smiled at Ilya and then turned his head back up to Irina's star, "You raised him well, your son, we will talk again, but I want you to know how much I love him- if you give me your blessing I'll marry him someday." He heard Ilya suck in a breath, "and if you don't, I'll marry him anyway!"
Then he thudded back down to the ground.
"Odd way of proposing." It hit Shane, what he'd said.
"No, no, that wasn't a proposal I was just-"
Ilya laughed at his mild panic, "Only teasing, but she would give her blessing, and we will get married, but not now. Because I will propose first."
"No, I will." Shane said adamantly.
"No, I am always first!"
"Yes! First to be proposed to!"
Ilya was sat up and facing him at this point, and pushed him by his shoulders- this quickly developed into a play fight which resulted in Shane pinned helplessly to the ground and Ilya grinning triumphantly, "See, I am always on top."
"Yet I always come first."
Ilya let his guard down in a peel of surprised laughter, allowing Shane to turn the tables and with settled with Ilya beneath him, kissing him serendipitously.
"Is not like you to make sex jokes."
"It's not like Russians to blush."
"Shut up, I do not do this."
"Just a little." He countered, grinning wildly.
"No, not at all."
"Just a tiny teeny weeny bit!"
"Shut your idiot mouth."
"Make me." He replied, leaning in to receive the kiss.
Shane settled atop Ilya, arms wrapped around each other tightly and legs intertwined in a lovers' embrace.
A small voice came from the silence, "She used to say I was little bear, next to big one."
It was a heavy confession and it sat between them.
"You're always with her, that's how much she loves you- you can never be separated."
Ilya kissed his cheek, "thank you."
"I love you." Shane kissed him on the cheek.
They lay like that for a long while more.
It could've been short, Shane wasn't really paying attention, didn't really mind.
They were just happy to be wrapped in the solitude of silence with each other.
After enough time had passed and the fire had burnt out in the pit next to them, they headed inside- the cold becoming almost too much despite it being the summer.
* * *
Ilya headed to the kitchen, making them both tea which Yuna had left the last time she'd visited (after many texts confirming it was okay to do so) neither of them had been a tea drinker before- yet Shane had gone down a rabbit hole of all of the benefits tea had and had started drinking it whenever he didn't want ginger ale or water. Despite his initial reluctance, Ilya had tried it due to Shane's insistence and (though he'd never admit it) had grown rather partial to the beverage.
Shane was in the shower because he felt dirty from lying down outside. So Ilya hummed to himself as he made the tea- surprisingly it was a routine he found quite relaxing.
The video came back to mind as he retrieved the milk from the fridge.
He was hopeful that he hadn't forced Shane to do something that he was uncomfortable with; but Shane would've told him, right?
They couldn't take the video down now. They could say it was a joke still, people were probably thinking this anyway, and it would be fine.
What would his team say?
What would Boston say?
He didn't really give a fuck about what Montreal to say, a very dark side of him hoped they would drop Shane (his contract needed renewing) so Shane could come to Ottawa and they would win the cup.
But he didn't want his Shane to be hurt.
It was a real dilemma.
He took both mugs to the bin, and took out each tea bag (Shane's decaf and his Earl Grey) then poured milk into Shane's, mixing it in and letting the teaspoon clink against the porcelain.
Cautiously, he carried both mugs upstairs, to where Shane was lying in his side of the bed with his glasses on (so Ilya had to be even more cautious not to drop the mugs) and placed both mugs down on their respective sides (Ilya's left and Shane's right).
"Thank you, mon cheri." Shane said taking the stealing mug into his hands, cupping it and blowing on the surface.
Ilya groaned flopping onto the bed, "Are you trying to kill me or want take four?"
"What do you mean?" Shane puzzled and goodness he looked cute like that.
"Your glasses on and French, I will ravage you." The certainty with which he said the words made Shane giggle.
"Who taught you that word?"
"No one taught me, I am genius at your stupid language."
"Well well done Einstein."
"Thank you." he smiled and wagged his eyebrows.
Shane rolled his eyes, so Ilya said, "Sorry, I thought it might be kink of yours." And he revelled in the pink colour Shane turned.
"It isn't." he responded.
"O-kayy."
"Fuck off." Ahhh, that's his Shane.
"Do you want to watch anything?" he gestured to the TV they'd had installed.
He replied, "David Attenborough if on," as he tucked himself into bed.
Mischievously, he drew a hiss from Shane as he tucked his cold toes under his legs, "you're so annoying."
"Yes, but you looove me." He teased loosely.
"For some reason." He muttered back.
"Oh, I think for many reasons." winking suggestively.
"I'm gonna break up with you."
"Don't make threats you can't keep, you fall back to my charm too fast, remember Rose?"
A smirk came to Shane's lips, "That reminds me! I need to send her my usual 'goodnight' message!"
"FORGET ROSE, FORGET ROSE!" he practically shouted.
Shane laughed and said, "shhhh, I won't text Rose, but David's talking about penguins and I want to listen."
* * *
Ilya had finished his tea and fallen asleep shortly after, leaving Shane alone with David and his thoughts.
He wondering briefly if he should see what people had been saying.
But he couldn't do that, not without Ilya.
He sipped at his tea in thought- he always took much longer to drink I than Ilya did.
Speaking of, he looked at the sleeping figure next to him. So beautiful and peaceful, his curls forming a halo in the dim light that danced across his face. His mouth was parted lightly, and his eyelashes were heavy with sleep. His brow was smooth and he looked so tranquil, so very tranquil that Shane almost fell even more in love with him than he already was.
Scratch that, he did fall more in love with him than he already was.
It felt like whenever he looked at Ilya, the voices that told him to hide or scream or cry or stop eating or tap that table seventeen times stopped, rang out like echoes getting smaller and smaller until they drew to a halt.
David's voice lulled him to a dreamless slumber eventually. And only a small puddle of tea remained in his mug.
* * *
They made most things in life a competition, that's how it was and always had been.
This even included who could awaken first and make the other breakfast- bonus points if you could bring it to them in bed!
And the award for waking up the first that morning went to Ilya! He was so proud as he tiptoed to their room, tray in hand.
He pushed open the door and pressed a kiss to Shane's temple to wake him, and tried not to look completely smitten as Shane blinked sleep out of his eyes as he smiled adoringly up at him.
"Here, croissant, tea, jam, apple, yum yum!"
"I'll just stick with tea," the fool answered.
"You have to eat something- if you don't want croissant or apple I get you something else."
With great reluctance, Shane lightly spread jam across the croissant (he wouldn't usually but they'd gone dry after being in the home for a few days and he wasn't a butter fan) and managed the whole thing much to Ilya's delight.
They sat in bed for many moments longe; enjoying the company. Softly, they exchanged caring touches absent-mindedly and swapped words of no real meaning yet so much at the same time.
Fuck, Ilya loved this.
How he wished he could've had it for longer. But it was nice, having it. And despite his eternal longing, he realised he would've waited another decade just to have this, this moment and time together.
Of course, they had plentiful time on this ice; but this wasn't hockey- Ilya couldn't live without this. Hockey meant worlds to him. Shane meant the universe, every star in the sky and every planet and every black hole or galaxy or undiscovered piece of land. And that didn't begin to describe it.
Shane was infinity.
Ilya was just a man.
Fuck, he was lucky.
Lucky to have this moment and this hour and have it for as long as his mortality allowed, for he knew that that was what it would take to part them now- death.
Lucky to have infinity and hold it in his hands, and know that no matter what happened, for a moment he too could be infinite, because of Shane.
It hadn't occured to him that they were just sat in silence as he'd contemplated all of that, but Shane didn't seem to mind, so Ilya was content to do what he always did and not apologise for things that could slightly be his fault.
"Come on, let's go for run." he spoke, cutting through the tranquility whilst leaning in to place a precious peck upon his lover's lips.
Shane kissed him back (thank God) and pushed himself off the bed, "Ok, where do you want to go?"
"I was thinking we could go around lake maybe, is very pretty right now?" and pushed himself off the bed too.
Shane hummed in agreement, "Yes, very pretty."
"But not as pretty as you!" Ilya flirted, coming up behind the other and pressing a wet kiss to his cheek.
" 'm not pretty." He said in a huff, wiping the kiss from his face (not because he didn't love Ilya- he had to remind himself- because it messed with his sensors and made him feel dirty which was okay).
Ilya hadn't relaxed his bear-like grip on the man, "Of course not."
Shane smiled, which Ilya saw from the mirror.
"Big, strong hockey player like you could never be pretty- only beautiful!" He teased gently, kissing him less sloppily.
And admitting defeat, as he always did, Shane rolled his eyes and pushed Ilya off of him, "Let me get dressed."
"Can I watch?" he threw back, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
And much to his surprise, Shane flirted back, "Only if you agree to make it worth my while."
* * *
They were out of the house half an hour later than Ilya had planned for, not that either of them were complaining; they'd had a great time. A great time.
And Shane had never been happier that it was the off season because it meant that he had no strict schedule to abide to. For, as much as he loved a schedule and routine, he knew that it was good for him to break from that mold and spend his free time being free.
They ran for about half an hour, and then took a break in a shady patch of trees; they sat in the grass with their fingers brushing (and for once Shane hadn't checked his surroundings for onlookers- ok, maybe he had a little bit) as they talked about nothing.
Ilya was tearing up the grass with his free hand. He pulled it out of the ground and then let it fall, then repeated the same action with a different clump. Over and over again- then he brushed his hand over a patch of butter flowers, picking one up and toying with it inbetween his forefinger and thumb. Harshly, he shoved the flower under Shane's chin, he flinched away.
"What are you doing?" Shane exclaimed furiously as Ilya grabbed his chin and drew him closer.
"Is tradition, yes? Put flower under chin and if it flows you like butter?" Complying unwillingly, Shane suffered through Ilya inspecting the glow under his chin, "Aha! You do like butter!" it seemed a great triumph.
"Fuck off," Shane retorted, pulling himself to standing, "Come on, home isn't far away now."
With heavy reluctance and a sigh, Ilya stood and then started sprinting faster than Shane could've anticipated, "Loser makes lunch!" he yelled gleefully over his shoulder.
"You-" he didn't finish his sentence, for the need to win overtook him.
The route back was only about a fifteen minutes run over the pebbly road, however if it were approached at a sprint, it could be conquered at a much faster time.
However this was far more exhausting and both men found themselves gasping heavily for air as they reached the door, still fighting to be in the lead of the race.
"Asshole," Shane gasped, clutching the wall, "Such a fucking asshole."
Ilya grinned at him, leaning against the opposite wall, "You fucking love it."
"Yeah, so what if I do?"