Chapter Text
“You scared me”
”I’m sorry I didn’t text you last night”
Ilya reaches up to gently caress the bruised face of the man he loves so deeply, hating himself for what he was about to do. “No, it’s ok.”
“I was excited about last night. I’m mostly mad at Marleau for fucking that up.”
“He feels really bad.”
“You know I had a whole plan to ask you something.”
“Maybe it’s better if you just rest now.”
“I was gonna ask you…”
“Hollander…” Shit. He needs to do this now. He needs to end things before they get any deeper in. He knows it will hurt like hell, but it will be best for Shane. Shane deserves so much more than what Ilya can give him.
“Will you come to my cottage this summer? Don’t go to Russia. Come to my hou-”
“No.” Ilya’s tone is so sharp and unexpected that it stops Shane midsentence. “Hollander. I can not do this. You know this. We cannot do this.”
“What are you saying?”
“I am saying that we are a mistake. Whatever this is will not work.” Ilya has to look away as all the light and happiness drains from Shane’s face.
“Ilya…” Shane reaches a hand toward, but Ilya takes a step back.
“I am sorry, Hollander, but I think this is for the best. You will be ok. Better without me.”
“No, Ilya, please…”
“Hollander. Stop. I am glad you are ok, but I need to go now.” Ilya pivots and surges from the room, almost plowing down a nurse as she tries to enter the room.
“Ilya!” Shane’s voice sounds broken as he calls out to him, but Ilya doesn’t dare look back, knowing that if he does, his resolve will break harder than the heart he just broke. He rushes through the hospital and into the uber he paid to wait for him.
He remains stoic and together until he crosses the threshold of his hotel room. He crumples to the ground, allowing himself to fully feel the weight of what he just did. The hurt he feels and more importantly, the hurt he knows he caused. The tears flow freely, sobs escaping him as his body shakes.
He knows that in the end it will be for the best and that he is saving Shane from more hurt in the future. He just wishes that he didn’t have to hurt him now either. He knows that Shane was the one for him. He will never get over this. Never move past this pain. Shane will. Shane will hurt for a while, but he will ultimately realize this is for the best. That he deserves something more and something better than what Ilya can give. Eventually he will find it and Shane will have his happily ever after.
He isn’t sure how long he stayed like that, crumpled in a ball on a hotel floor, even after the tears dried up. The only thing that finally got him to move was the ringing of his phone. His first thought was that it was Shane, but he quickly dismissed that, knowing the Concussion protocol meant he would not have access to his phone for a while. He pulled it out to see that Marly was calling. This snapped him back to reality immediately. Shit! The flight!
“Marly! I am coming! Do not let bus leave without me!”
“Hurry the fuck up, man! Coach is pissed!”
Ilya jumps up, rushing around the room throwing everything haphazardly into his bag as he also slams a lid down on his emotions. He had his time to fall apart. Now it was time to put the mask back on, even if every second was a battle to keep it from slipping.
Everyone keeps asking Shane how he is feeling and what his pain level is, but he doesn’t know how to answer honestly. He doesn’t know how to tell them that he is completely numb. He was hollowed out and now has nothing left. How do you explain that you have lost everything to people who never even knew how much you had to lose in the first place? He is vaguely aware of his parents' presence in the room and the stream of teammates that swing by with well wishes. He knows Hayden and J.J. are trying to cheer him up, make him laugh, with their wild retelling of the fight that broke out after he went down, but he can’t bring himself to even crack a smile. He only wants to sink back into the bed and sleep until this nightmare is over. That’s what this has to be. A nightmare. This can’t be real. Maybe his concussion was worse than he thought and he had actually hallucinated Ilya walking out of his life. Maybe. But no. As much as he wants to believe that, he knows that simply isn’t true. The man he loves had really come here and ended things. It is over. He feels the tears welling.
“Shane, honey. What’s wrong? Are you in pain? Is it your head?”
He manages to choke out, “It’s over. It’s really over.”
“Oh, sweetheart. It’s one season. Yes, this season is over, but you will be completely healed and stronger than ever by next season.”
Of course his mother thinks he is upset about the end of his hockey season. She thinks that is the most important thing to him. This only makes him cry harder. His mother holds him while he cries, rubbing soothing circles on his back, quietly whispering that everything will be okay into his ear. He lets himself pretend, for just right now, that she knows what he had really lost and that everything will be okay.
It had been a week since Shane was released from the hospital. A week and a day since his entire life collapsed around him. His parents are still convinced that his despondency is coming from an early end to his season. They tip-toe around the topic of hockey, with one exception, which is the downfall of the Boston Raiders and their playoff shot after Ilya Rozanov had very publicly crashed and burned at their last game. He had been playing an overtly more aggressive game than even he was known for, sending mean spirited chirps at everyone, including his own teammates. This resulted in an ugly fight between himself and Cliff Marleau, which ended with them having to be pulled off each other and shoved toward penalty boxes. At this point, Ilya had stormed off the ice, yelling insults and curses at everyone he passed along the way. His departure and the fracture in team dynamics ultimately led to Boston losing the game and their chance to advance in the playoffs. The general consensus was that he was still struggling with the death of his father, so everyone figured that after some apologies and fines, he would be back next season.
His mother said that she feels so sorry for the poor boy and hopes that he is able to get the support he needs. Her heart really goes out to him. His father is convinced that maybe the kid needs a hug. He seems like a guy that has never had anyone give him a good, solid hug. Shane doesn’t know what to think. Maybe Ilya is really this upset about the death of his father. He can’t be upset about things ending between himself and Shane, since he was the one who ended it. He wanted it to end.
“Shane, honey. Hello? Are you listening?”
“What? Yeah. I'm listening.”
“I was saying that you have your first physical therapy appointment for your shoulder today. I will drop you off and be back to pick you up an hour later, but if we are going to make it on time, we need to leave here in the next ten minutes, so go get ready.”
“Right. Yeah. Of course.”
In addition to the broken collarbone, Shane has pulled and strained several muscles and tendons in his shoulder. The doctor recommended physical therapy to make sure his shoulder is in stable enough condition to handle the grueling training that comes with being a professional hockey player. His first appointment is today. Since he is with his parents in Ottawa, he will be seeing a PT here and not the team trainers he usually works with in Montreal. Normally he would be nervous about working with someone unknown, especially when they will be touching him and it's a matter of his body's physical performance. Today, he can’t bring himself to care in the slightest.
Shane is silent on the drive, letting his mother fill the silence with her near constant chatter about brand deals, summer plans, and scheduling. He occasionally nods and chimes in with ‘mmmhmm’ or ‘sounds good.’
“We are here. Your appointment is in just a few moments. Head in and get your appointment started and I will fill out your paperwork and then I have a few errands to run. I will be back in about an hour to pick you up. Then maybe we can grab some takeout?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Okay, sweetie. Work hard and good luck!”
Shane walks in with his mother trailing behind, “Hi. I’m, um, Shane. Shane Hollander. I have an appointment. My mom is here to fill out the paperwork.”
“You are good to head on back, Mark is ready for you. Straight through that door there,” she said, pointing to a door on the other side of the lobby area.
“Thank you. Bye, Mom.”
Shane makes his way through the door, looking around the large, open room. There are PTs and patients spread all throughout. Uncertain of who he is supposed to be meeting with or where to go, he stands awkwardly shuffling his feet a bit, glancing around. A man quickly approaches.
“Are you Shane?”
“Um. Yeah. That’s me.”
“Well, Shane. I do believe you are my next appointment!”
“Oh. Ok.”
“If you want to follow me over here, we can get started.”
The man starts walking over toward a small desk, Shane following a few steps behind.
Looking back over his shoulder, the man says, “I’m Mark, by the way. Mark Crowder.”
“Ok. Nice to meet you Mark.”
“You too, Shane,” Mark responds with a soft smile. One that had Shane giving a small smile back.
“Take a seat here on the other side of the desk and we will get some preliminary questions and goals taken care of and then I want to get a feel for where our strength and range of motion are at. We can then figure out a plan to move forward from there.”
“Ok. Sounds good.” Shane mutters, taking a seat.
“First question: How are you doing today?”
“Um. Fine. I guess. My pain is pretty low.”
“I am not asking about your shoulder or your pain. I’m asking about you.”
“Oh. Um. I’m good. Thanks. And how are you?”
“I get to spend my day doing what I love and I get to help out an awesome new client so I am doing fantastic today!” Mark says brightly.
Shane finds himself smiling again. It was a small smile, but there was something about the man’s energy that Shane likes.
“Ok. Next question. What are you hoping to accomplish here in physical therapy? What is the ultimate goal of what you would like to be able to do when we are finished?”
“Well I’m a professional hockey player, so play hockey, I guess.”
“Ok. So we need that shoulder to be strong and stable. It needs to be able to perform slapshots and take hits. Got it! Looking at the files and scans your doctor sent over, that should definitely be doable. We will get this shoulder in shape in no time! If you’re a professional athlete then I know you are willing to put in the work and push yourself. This is going to be great!”
Mark jots a few notes down in Shane’s file and then stands to walk around the desk toward him. Shane finally takes a good look at the man. He is a big guy, taller than Shane with more muscle, but not quite as big as Ilya. Shane shakes his head slightly, trying to clear out thoughts of the Russian. He looks back at Mark, taking in more of the man. Unlike Ilya, Mark has dark hair and eyes.
“Follow me over to an exam table. I have a few range of motion and strength tests to perform. That will give me a solid idea of where to start and how to proceed.”
Shane gets settled on the table, Mark standing over him.
“I’m going to touch you now. First thing I will do is help you out of the sling.”
Shane is surprised by how gentle Mark is as he helps him. More gentle than you would expect of a man that size and build. Mark starts manipulating Shane’s shoulder, and explaining everything he is about to do and why he is doing it. This puts Shane at ease. He has always liked to know what to expect and he appreciates knowing why things are being done.
“Um. I’m kind of surprised you didn’t already know that I’m a hockey player. Not that I expect everyone to know who I am or anything like that. It’s just that in your line of work, I would expect you to be a sports fan.”
Mark chuckles quietly. “As a matter of fact, Shane Hollander, number 24, of the Montreal Metros, I do know who you are. You seemed like you might have been a little nervous when you first came in and I didn’t want to make you anymore uncomfortable by fanboying over you.”
“Oh.” Shane looks up to see Mark has a huge smile spread across his face. Seeing the smile, Shane suddenly feels a huge smile spread across his own face. The first genuine smile he has had all week.
By the time his mother arrives an hour later, Shane is feeling lighter. Mark, as it turns out, is pretty funny. He managed to make Shane laugh a few times and got several more smiles out of him. When they finished and Mark told him that he was looking forward to their next appointment, Shane believed him to be completely genuine. Shane was a little surprised to realize he was also looking forward to seeing Mark again at the next appointment.
As the next few weeks passed, his appointments with Mark became highlights for Shane. During his time with Mark, he felt valued. Mark would focus his full attention on Shane. Shane knew that was part of his job as a Physical Therapist, but this felt like more. Mark made him feel less alone and Shane genuinely had fun during his appointments, even with the pain. Mark was the perfect distraction from the crippling loneliness he felt after Ilya’s abandonment. The only time he didn’t feel crushed by its weight was when he was with Mark.
“Shane! Hey, man! How is my favorite patient doing?”
“Mark! Hey. I’m doing great today. How are you?”
“Well. I have to admit. I’m feeling a little bummed out today.”
“Oh. Why?”
“Today is going to be our last session.”
“Oh.” Shane is surprised by how sad this makes him.
“I know that it’s actually great news that your shoulder is in fighting shape again and as your physical therapist, I should be pumped. I am thrilled about that part. I really am. But as a person, I am going to miss seeing you here at our sessions. I love hanging out and talking with you!”
“Yeah. Me too. You’re a great guy, Mark.”
“Hmm. Well… this isn’t exactly orthodox, but it shouldn’t be too big of a problem since you will no longer be a patient… What if we exchanged numbers? We could maybe hangout sometime or something?”
“Oh. Yeah! That would be cool. Here. Put your number in my phone.”
As Shane hands his phone over, Mark’s fingers close over his, brushing against them as he pulls the phone toward him. Shane’s mind briefly flashes back to a hotel gym, years ago, and a water bottle being passed between two young hockey stars. He pushes the memory out of his mind as Mark hands his phone back, winking as their fingers brush past each other again. Shane’s mind races as goosebumps spread up his arms.
“Let’s get to work, shall we? And maybe we can figure out a time and date to… hangout.” Mark says coolly.
A smile spreads across Shane’s face, “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
After the session, Shane gets into his mothers car with a smile on his face.
“There’s something I haven’t seen in a while. Did you have a good appointment?”
“Yeah. It was great, actually. It was also my last one. My shoulder is cleared.”
“That’s great, honey! At your last doctor's appointment, they said your concussion symptoms were gone and you only need a few more weeks in the sling for your collarbone. A few more weeks and this will all be behind us. We can finally move forward.”
“Move forward. Yeah. That sounds good.”
Shane’s phone pinged. Mark’s name popped up on the screen.
Mark: Missing my favorite patient who is no longer a patient already! I’m looking forward to hanging out tomorrow night! See at 6!
“Oh, mom. I have plans to meet up with a friend tomorrow night. They are going to swing by the house and pick me up.”
“Which friend? Do I know them?”
“No. You don’t know them. I met them at physical therapy.”
“Ok. Well I hope you have fun. Maybe dad and I will have a night out too. A proper date night could be fun! Now. Should we get takeout or make dad cook tonight?”
“Let’s do takeout.”
Shane’s parents had left an hour ago, so there was nobody to witness as he nervously paces around the house, checking and rechecking his reflection in the mirror. He can’t help but wonder if this is a mistake. Is he ready for this? Is he even sure what this is? It feels like it could be a date? Maybe? It seems like Matt was giving off vibes of being interested in Shane, but maybe that is just his imagination. He is not always the best at picking up on social cues. He is actually pretty terrible at it. He might be completely wrong about all this and Mark just wants a friend to hang out with.
But what if this is a date? Is he really ready to try and move on from Ilya? The man he thinks about constantly? The man that he loves so much it physically hurts his heart? The man that left a gaping hole in his heart when he decided to walk away? The man he hopes to hear from everyday? Maybe he needs to go on a date to figure out if he really is ready to move forward. He is mostly afraid that he will never be ready to move forward. He will always want Ilya. He will always need Ilya. The thing is, Ilya doesn’t want or need him. He made that perfectly clear. The only choice Shane has left is to move forward.
He glances at the clock. 5:59. A moment later, there is a knock on the door. One thing is for sure, Mark is punctual. Shane throws the door open.
“Hey.”
“Hi, Shane. You ready to go?”
“Yeah. You look great, by the way.” Shane really means it. He has never seen Mark in anything other than khakis and a polo shirt. Tonight he is dressed in form fitting, dark jeans and a fairly tight black t-shirt. “I mean, just that you look nice out of your work stuff is all. It’s not like I’m checking you out or anything like that.”
“Thanks. You look great, too! And I am totally checking you out.” Mark says, flashing a huge smile and a gleam in his eyes.
Shane can feel himself blushing as he stammers out, “Oh. Um. Thanks. I was checking you out. Are you… um…?”
“Gay? Yes. I am gay. Are you?”
“Um. Yeah. I am.”
“Excellent! I’m usually pretty good at knowing, but there’s always a chance I’m not picking up the right vibes. I’m glad I didn’t ask a straight guy out on a date!”
“So this is definitely a date?”
“I’m hoping it is. Is that what you want?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’m not really out or anything, so we can’t, like, do anything in public or whatever.”
“The best part about us both being guys is that we can go out to eat or grab drinks and people just think we are a couple of friends, hanging out. We can save all the other stuff for behind closed doors.”
“That’s true, I guess. We can definitely go out in public and as long as we are careful about what we do, people will just think we are friends.” A strange sense of freedom bloomed in Shane’s chest. Going out in public, even still under the false cover of friends, was never a possibility nor did it ever seem like it could be a possibility with Ilya. It was not only a possibility but happening as a reality with Mark.
Mark grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze.
“Let’s get this date started. Your carriage awaits!” Mark leads him over to his jeep, opening the passenger side and placing a steadying hand on Shane’s lower back as he gets in. The drive to the restaurant was filled with small talk. Safe, but comfortable. Shane didn’t feel as awkward as he often can in social situations.
Once they are seated at the table, Shane has a moment where his anxiety threatens to overtake him, assuming that everyone around him is staring at him and that they somehow know he is there on a date. A quick look around reveals that not a single person is actually paying attention to him or Mark. They are all too involved in their own meals and company. Shane takes a deep breath and turns his attention to Mark.
“So. Did you always know you wanted to be a physical therapist?”
The conversation flows naturally from there. So does the laughter. It feels nice. The last time Shane had a dinner like this, it was with Rose. Rose. Shane felt a pang of guilt in his chest. She had tried calling him several times since his injury to check in. He kept ignoring her calls and trying to fend her off with texts. He knew that if they talked on the phone, she would immediately know something was off and she was nothing if not tenacious. She would not let him hide it from her. Without a doubt, he would spill everything to her about Ilya within ten minutes of their phone call. But that was before. Maybe after having a great date with a man that isn’t a total secret, he can talk to her. He vows to himself to call her tomorrow. Only in his dreams did he think he could go out on a dinner date and then tell his best friend all about it the next day.
After taking up the table for three hours, they decide to call it a night. Mark insists on picking up the check, boasting to the waitress, “That’s just what good friends do!”
This has Shane suppressing a laugh.
Once back in the jeep, Mark boldly reaches over to take Shane’s hand. Shane is glad for how dark it is as he can feel the blush on his cheeks.
“So, Shane. How was your date tonight?”
“ Well, Mark. I think it may have been the best dinner date I’ve ever been on. How was your date tonight?”
“Hmm. I would have to say that it was definitely the best dinner date I’ve been on.”
Mark pulls over onto a secluded street with no traffic.
“I know your parents might be home by the time I drop you off, so I thought maybe you would be more comfortable having our goodnight kiss here. It’s pretty dark and quiet. More private than most streets and away from your parent’s possible prying eyes.”
“Yeah. I don’t think anyone can see us in here.”
“I don’t think so either. So can I kiss you now.”
Shane is too nervous to answer so he just nods, leaning toward Mark. Mark in turn, leans toward him, pressing his lips gently to Shane’s. After a moment the gentle kiss turns into something slightly hungrier, but still soft. Shane’s chest aches for a moment, thinking about how he wishes this was Ilya, but he pushes that thought away in anger. Ilya doesn’t want him. Mark does. This thought ignites something in Shane’s chest. He kisses Mark with a bit more passion, almost as if trying to prove to himself that this is what he wants. Mark pulls back slightly and Shane can feel the smile on his lips.
“I really like you, Shane.”
“I like you too, Mark. This is like something out of a dream.”
Mark giggles. “Well if this is a dream, I hope we never wake up.”