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Ilya Rozanov (26) is newly slated to play Sydney Dunn in the upcoming biopic about Canada’s most beloved hockey player. This Russian turned Canadian actor has big shoes to fill, folks. Not only is Dunn an MHL superstar, he’s the first openly queer player in the league. Many are asking, can Ilya Rozanov live up to the task? Read more on this casting on page 6.
Still reeling from the news of his next big role, Ilya can’t find it in himself to care that people are already questioning his ability. No headline could take him down from the high currently coursing through him. After a couple two bit parts and an important supporting character, Ilya is finally making it big time - a leading role, a once in a lifetime opportunity. This is the part he’s been waiting for, both personally and professionally.
Happy and not wanting that to go anywhere, Ilya ignores Svetlana’s first call. While he’s a fan of his manager, she’s always bringing him the ‘what’s next’ in his career; basking in success isn’t a thing for her. She’s so good at her job but Ilya wants to linger in the glory of this casting for a little longer before reality comes crawling back, always wanting more from him. Ilya is happy to lounge on his couch, blissfully ignoring the rest of the world today. Thanks so very much.
Of course, digging his feet in doesn’t stop Svetlana from calling three more times. The last one is a FaceTime call Ilya knows he can no longer just brush to the side. When Svetlana shows her face, it means business. Ready or not, here she comes.
Pasting on a smile, Ilya accepts the call. He sits up a little straighter to try and make it look like he’s a grown adult; his couch posture is slumped at best and so juvenile. Svetlana is sophisticated so Ilya can be, too. Upon connecting, Ilya can see that his hair is crazy and there’s still a pillow crease in his cheek - so much for that.
Svetlana, of course, she looks fabulous, already put together and done up for the day.
“You really shouldn’t go out looking like that. I’m unsure how anyone gets anything done with you around.” Ilya tries for that buttering up flattery despite knowing his manager is never a fan of it.
“Nothing is going to excuse you from ignoring me, Rozanov. Not even that cute thing you do.” She smiles at him then, a twinkle in her eye.
One of the best things Ilya did for himself was ask Svetlana to manage his career five years ago. While they’re only friends and will stay that way til they day they die, Ilya knows Svetlana has his back and always will. At least in the ongoing war of the acting scene. Being small time, that’s already more than a lot of his fellow actors can say. Ilya is lucky and he knows it, so he plays along.
“Forgive me. Reveling in my own success is much better done in solitude. People think you’re an asshole if you rub it in their faces too much.” They both laugh, though Ilya’s isn’t completely genuine. “What’s up? You only call more than once when it’s really important.”
An anxiousness rolls through Ilya then. He’s been so wrapped around this casting news, the rest of the world sort of fell away. Now, Ilya is wracking his brain, trying hard to think of what could make his agent’s face so pinched looking back at him.
Thankfully, Svetlana doesn’t beat around the bush. “I got some news from production. It looks like the director wants you to be able to function on the ice. As in, actually play hockey.” She stops for a second, the crease between her eyebrows even worse. “They hired a player from the MHL to teach you but… he’s only available the next 8 weeks. That October report date I told you about? Throw it out the window. You start tomorrow.”
Unable to stop it, Ilya’s jaw practically hits the floor. “Wait, what? Tomorrow?” Ilya is already scrambling, his mind moving a thousand miles a minute. “I can’t even skate, Svetlana!”
——
Ilya is more nervous than ever standing on a rubber mat outside of the Montreal Metro’s practice rink. There’s only a couple people on the ice and the only person that looks like a professional is skating around cones set up to look like a zigzag. He’s fast and fluid and Ilya knows he’s never going to look like that. His only experience with skating brings up bad memories, the sort Ilya pays a lot of money to help suppress.
Sighing, Ilya tries to get his shit together in the seconds it takes for his teacher to notice him standing there and skate over. He’s a fretting boy one moment and a trained, professional actor the next. At least, that’s what Ilya hopes. He wants to pull off being a success so badly.
Especially when Mr. Superstar takes off his helmet. Ilya is dumbstruck to see Shane Hollander standing before him. They didn’t get some no name to show him the ropes. Oh no, no - they enlisted the most influential man in hockey to whip Ilya into shape. Shane Hollander is a Canadian treasure, known even by this Russian boy.
To those that know him, it’s no secret how much Ilya enjoys Shane Hollander. One of his first Canadian experiences was a Metro’s game where Shane scored 4 goals and assisted on 2 more. Already enamored by then, Ilya can still remember the moment Shane pulled his helmet off to wave at the crowd post-win. Even with sweaty hair plastered to his head, Shane looked good. His boyish eyes were wide and a flush overtook pale cheeks. From that day on, Ilya’s type morphed into short Canadians with a wicked backhand and the cutest freckles.
Of course this is the person sent to torture him. Of fucking course.
“Ilya Rozanov, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I really enjoyed your last movie,” Shane Hollander says, sticking his hand between them to shake.
Dumbly, Ilya returns the gesture. “Shane Hollander. The pleasure is mine.” It takes a second to process what Shane said, though Ilya lights up when he does. “You saw that piece of shit? No, I’m kidding. Is my favorite one to date. Thank you for watching it. And thank you for helping me not look like an asshole on the ice. I have not skated since I was very small.”
A dimpled smile shifts into place on Shane’s adorable face. His brown eyes light up and it’s then that Ilya gets his first taste of Hollander sarcasm.
“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.” It’s said with a wink that absolutely melts Ilya’s insides.
He is jelly.
And for some reason, Ilya can’t bring himself to care.
The next few minutes, between internally freaking out being next to his crush and trying not to eat shit, Shane teaches Ilya how to stand in his skates by marching on a rubber pad just outside the rink. Once Ilya master’s that, he’s pushed out into the ice, told to practice a two-foot glide.
His first attempt is a nightmare. Ilya hits the ice so fast, it’s all a blur. Though, he does tune back in when Shane leans down to offer him a hand up. Ilya can do nothing but beam at this MHL player’s inability to be anything but kind. That thought is driven home further when Shane extends his elbow once Ilya is back on his feet.
“Grab on. I’ll take you over the ice so you can get the feel of it under your skates. Most of this sport is proprioception… knowing the shift and feel of the ground below you. You’ve got the balance, you just need to learn how to move your feet.”
They skate that way for a while, Ilya grasping onto Shane’s elbow while Shane guides them around the ice. They make turns, they complete circles… by the time Ilya actually looks up, he’s by himself making those same patterns.
He’s not sure when Shane let go but Ilya is stoked to actually be doing it - he’s skating and it isn’t the worst experience in the world. In fact, having Shane Hollander give him gentle correction and high praise is healing. At the end of his time on the ice, Ilya isn’t dreading the work that comes next. His father and the abuse Ilya endured is easily kicked to the corner - Shane Hollander is a unique brand of healing ointment. Every moment spent in his presence, Ilya feels a little bit better.
So much so Ilya finds himself being reckless.
“Any chance I can take you for coffee? I was so anxious this morning, breakfast skipped my mind.” Ilya tries to be casual, though it’s obvious he fails miserably.
A blush courses across Shane’s face, his usually pale cheeks a gorgeous shade of pink. Ilya watches him fiddle with the gear being packed into a large bag. When Shane’s finished, he turns hesitantly in Ilya’s direction.
“Do you like waffles?” Shane asks in response. It’s abrupt and not a yes but not quite a no, either.
“Yes. Waffles are delicious. Do you know anyone that doesn’t like waffles?”
Grinning like a maniac, Shane nods. “Only weirdos, I think. I know a place. They have great waffles. And other stuff. But their waffles are the best.”
Ilya can’t stop smiling - he’s sitting across the table from Shane Hollander (who is even more attractive in person) and his walking wet dream is smiling back. Shane’s been talking quite a bit about the restaurant they’re in and how he found it after a long road trip his rookie year. It’s obviously an institution that’s very important to not only Shane but his Metro teammates, too. Ilya is on hallowed ground, just happy to be here.
“I’m glad you got this part.”
Those are the words that cut through Ilya’s thoughts. His mind was several eons away but now he’s back. What Shane said is important, that’s obvious, though Ilya isn’t 100% sure why.
“You are? I mean - I am, too. Don’t get me wrong. Just - why me? Sydney Dunn is a Canadian hero. I am barely a Canadian citizen. To me, this casting is out of the blue.” Ilya tries not let his insecurities come to the forefront - between all the celebrating, Ilya’s been questioning, too. He’s still trying to wrap his mind around such a big role coming to him after so little experience as a leading man.
“I saw your Indy film. With Pedro Pascal. The way you played your character, a queer person whose entire personality wasn’t based around being queer… that’s the sort of thing the world needs to see. We’re regular people who play sports and live normal lives. The media’s need to constantly push some agenda otherwise makes being gay in the MHL so hard.”
Stunned, Ilya goes back through all he knows about Shane Hollander. As far as he can remember, Ilya can’t recall the news of Shane Hollander’s sexuality ever dropping. Ilya knows as a person with intense interest in the subject. Learning what he is now, the little love monster inside of Ilya starts to perk up even more. It’s one thing to crush on someone there’s no chance with. Ilya is aware it’s an entirely different thing to crush on someone he does.
“I understand. Is sort of similar in the acting world. Instead of letting being bisexual bury me in, I did my best to own it from the start. I am Ilya Rozanov, being bisexual is just a part of that.”
There, he’s said it and they’re now on an even playing field. So even, it seems, Shane finds a little courage. His foot brushes up against Ilya’s under the table. The first time, Ilya lets it pass as a mistake. The second, he leans into Shane’s touch. This time, his MHL buddy doesn’t pull away. Despite how crazy it is to think, Ilya Rozanov is holding feet with Shane Hollander!
The rest of their time together is a happy blur. Ilya spends much too long lamenting the deliciousness of the waffles and orders a second cup of coffee just to elongate their time together. Shane doesn’t seem to mind as he holds his own coffee cup out for the next pour, too.
As they’re leaving, Ilya points to Shane’s phone. “Give me your number. Would be nice not to have to go through Svetlana to talk.”
Without a thought, Shane hands Ilya his phone. “I’m not the best at texting but I’ll try to respond. If it’s about hockey, just wait to ask me in person. Hyper fixating is so much easier face to face.”
Ilya is overwhelmed by Shane and his surprisingly big personality. He’s used to gruff men who don’t give him the time of day. Fellow actors are assholes when it comes to what they consider “competition”. Shane, it seems, only wants to do good and be good. He’s a walking ball of sunshine with the most gorgeous freckles Ilya’s ever seen. It’s almost unfair he’s such a nice guy, too. This crush of his is quickly turning into a like Ilya is afraid he’s not going to be able to control.
——
It’s official, Ilya isn’t going to make it out of his time on the ice next to Shane Hollander without falling in love with the guy. Not only is he fun to give shit to and talk with, Shane is genuinely good at the sport he’s teaching. While there’s a bit of room for his teaching tactics to improve, Ilya is getting the hang of most of the technical skills he needs to be able to fake it for the camera. He can skate with the stick, pass the puck without falling on his ass, and, he’s come to find that he has a pretty decent slap shot.
Though, Ilya is certain the events that happened the day Shane taught him to shoot are why the lesson is so engrained in his brain.
Day six of their workouts, Ilya is sore all over the place but pleasantly surprised by his progress. His father’s aborted attempt to make him into a hockey player feels like a slowly healing wound. With a little understanding and patience, Ilya can excel at anything. Well, just about anything.
“Fuck! This does not make sense. I am doing what you said. Why is my shot such shit?” Ilya yells after another aborted attempt at an accurate shot on net. There are many pucks scattered around the far sides of the goal - Ilya hasn’t been accurate once and the tangible evidence only makes it worse. He sucks and that’s a hard pill to swallow.
Throwing off his gloves and ditching his own stick, Shane skates over to Ilya, a shy look on his face. “You’re taking your eye off the puck when your hands come through. Can I?” Shane is gesturing between them, his eyes wide and wet. It’s an interesting offer and Ilya is a curious man.
“Please. I do no want to suck like this.”
“You do not suck. Just…” Shane stops right next to Ilya. “Shift into shooting position. I’m going to put my arms around you, help you go through the motion. While I do, keep your eyes on the puck. Don’t let them drift.”
Shane’s instructions are clear but Ilya can’t process them. It’s impossible to take note of anything but Shane’s body pressed up against him, Shane’s hands on him touching where Ilya’s wanted for so long. There’s a curious intimacy to the shorter man bracketing him like this. Though, Ilya tries to push that aside - he’s here to learn, to be a professional actor… not a horny guy thirsty for the very hot professional hockey player holding him in his arms.
Who is Ilya kidding? Professional was out the window the second Shane Hollander skated up to him that first day.
Sucking in a deep breath, Ilya forces himself to do what Shane asked of him. Their joined arms move through the shooting motion and Ilya doesn’t blink, his eyes burning as he glares daggers at the puck. Surprisingly, it flies into the air, landing with a whoosh in the back of the net.
“Fuck yes!” Ilya exclaims, his full body shift breaking precious contact with Shane. It’s okay, though - his mentor is beaming ear to ear. That red blush is back, too; the hue of it is one Ilya wants to bottle up and keep forever. Or maybe tattoo it on his skin. “You are good at this.”
Without thought, Shane reaches out to punch Ilya in the shoulder. There’s a pad between them yet Ilya feels the contact all the same.
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
Smirking, Ilya allows himself to lean into Shane, their shoulders pressing together. “Oh, I’m not. I just like the way you flush when you get a compliment.”
The tension in the air shifts a little then. Their playful mood is gone, replaced with Shane Hollander biting his fucking lip. He’s going to kill Ilya - kill him fucking dead.
“Fuck, you can’t say shit like that here. I want to kiss you so bad but this isn’t the place.”
Heart slamming, Ilya doesn’t let it go. “Where is the place? If say, I also want to kiss you.”
Shane looks shocked all of two seconds before his smile grows a little wider. It’s the sort of look that makes Ilya want to cup his cheeks and kiss him senseless. He isn’t going to stop there, either. Ilya is so suddenly ravenous, the intensity scares him. Every muscle in his body is bound up and ready to pounce. Shane’s warning of something not happening here is the only reason Ilya keeps his hands to himself.
“My house isn’t too far from here. Say you wanted to come over around 9PM or so.” Shane is trying to be nonchalant but Ilya can see how his fingers clench and unclench into a light fist. As someone who also deals with anxiety that way, Ilya can sympathize. He really can.
“If it is too much…”
The hockey player before him moves so fast, Ilya is surprised to be face to face with an intense Shane Hollander.
“Don’t give me that. You want this just as much as me. I… haven’t brought anyone back to my place. Ever. I’m freshly out to my teammates so I’m not used to talking so freely or living out in the open. I want you, Ilya Rozanov. Just - let me be neurotic about it, okay?”
With a smile, because Ilya knows this is all information Shane keeps close to his chest, he simply nods and says, “okay.”
There’s surprise in Shane’s next question. “Okay? Just like that?”
“Just like that. I am happy you want to spend time with me. Whatever that looks like for you.” Ilya keeps his tone gentle, as if talking to a scared pup. “We are on same team, Shane Hollander.”
Between a pinch in his brow and the watery nature of his eyes, Shane looks close to tears. Though, he doesn’t let them fall. It’s still too public and Ilya is starting to understand a little more of Shane’s hesitation. Being a queer actor is hard… Ilya can’t imagine trying to navigate a macho sport on top of all the other bull shit that comes with being that sort of different. More than anything… Ilya wants to take Shane in his arms and just hold him. He wants to hug and squeeze and soothe until the hurt is gone.
Instead, Shane instructs him to make ten more shots before leaving the ice. For the first time all day, Ilya is accurate, scoring his ten with only thirteen shots taken.
Ilya is still thinking about their time on the ice when he shows up to Shane’s place later that night. His role before that moment was about his own pride and success. Knowing Shane and learning a bit more about him and his struggles as a gay athlete… Ilya now see this movie is so much bigger than him. It’s for all the athletes like Shane hiding themselves to keep playing without harassment. It’s for all the young kids out there staying in the closet to continue to be safe in an otherwise rocky environment. Hell, it’s for all the actors Ilya knows that can’t come out without completely ruining their careers.
How astounding to be on the precipice of such a monumental thing.
He’s taken from his thoughts by the arrival of Shane at the door. It’s so hard to think past the tight jeans covering Shane’s legs upon first perusal, Ilya is knocked silent. It’s then that Ilya realizes he’s never seen Shane out of his hockey uniform.
“You are sexy in the pads. You are sexy sweaty. Now I realize you are sexy in jeans, too. How will I ever cope?” Ilya brings a hand to his forehead, pretending to faint.
Shane blushes, though he’s quick with a witty response. “Just wait until you see me out of them.”
“Fuck,” Ilya says, his voice barely above a whisper. He’s been thinking about this all day; Shane talking like that is only making it worse. “Invite me in so I can kiss you.”
Without saying anything, Shane takes a couple steps back to open the door completely. It’s invitation enough and Ilya is suddenly impatient. Though, it seems so is Shane. The door is barely closed before Ilya is pushed back against it. Both of Shane’s hands palm Ilya’s cheeks, his grip firm. There’s a tug and then Ilya Rozanov is finally kissing Shane Hollander.
Fireworks. It’s the only way Ilya can describe that initial touch of Shane’s lips against his own. Never one to believe in silly things like ‘the one’, Ilya is surprised by how right it feels to be with Shane like this. It takes no time at all to settle into each other. There’s no awkward fumble to be in the right place at the right time. Existing in this moment is the easiest thing Ilya’s ever done. And though he’s done a lot of kissing, none of them ever sent him into an existential spiral like this one is.
Ilya isn’t given much of a chance to ponder over it, either. Shane doesn’t hesitate to lead him down the hallway to his bedroom, their clothes making a trail along the way. Suddenly, Ilya has access to bare skin and unexplored flesh he admittedly has thought a lot about… even before meeting Shane, Ilya’s dreamed about this very moment. It takes everything in him not to say as such. Instead, his eager fingers make exploratory paths along every inch of Shane they can reach. Upon making it into the bedroom, the last barrier between them is lost and Ilya is presented with a completely naked Shane Hollander.
It’s a life changing experience.
Literally, Ilya hits his knees in that serene kind of worship.
His eager mouth presses kisses to sharp hip bones and toned lower abs that clench and pull with each of Ilya’s touches. Ilya feels Shane’s hard cock bob against his chin, the precome already there leaving a little streak on Ilya’s skin. Gasping at the feeling, Ilya redirects his attention to Shane’s weeping cock. Whatever plans Ilya had before, they’re gone and out the window in favor of wrapping his lips around Shane to get more than a tease of a taste of him.
They both moan as Ilya takes more of Shane into his mouth. It’s tantalizing and heady for Ilya to glance up and watch Shane throw his head back with pleasure. With just one touch, Ilya can immediately tell his hockey playing friend is already on edge.
“Fuck, fuck. You have to stop. I’m going to come.” Shane babbles this as he reaches down to grab at Ilya’s hair. “I’ve barely kissed you. How fucking rude to come already.”
Forcing himself to pull off, Ilya sits back on his heels, Shane’s cock still heavy in his right hand. He gives the length a stroke, then another before replying. “I don’t mind. I want to make you come a thousand different ways. Is okay if this way is first.”
Not waiting for an answer, Ilya goes back to his task, the desire to get Shane there doubled now that Ilya knows for certain he’s close. Little by little, Ilya lets Shane’s cock into his throat until the entire length is engulfed in Ilya’s warmth. Its been a while since Ilya’s done something like this but Shane is worth it… and the sore throat he’s going to have later on.
It’s even more worth it to hear Shane’s voice reach a fever pitch. “Fuck, Ilya. I’m going to come right now.”
Pulling back just enough not to choke, Ilya drinks down Shane’s orgasm, one pulse at a time.
A sharp tug has Ilya rising to his feet. Shane looks done in and ravenous, absolutely beautiful in his post orgasmic glow. Ilya is floored to see him so blissed out. It’s even sexier to know he’s the one single handedly responsible for Shane Hollander’s serene expression. So much so, Ilya absently takes his previously neglected cock in hand and starts to stroke.
“Let me help with that,” Shane says, his voice still so thick and syrupy with arousal. It sends a shot down Ilya’s back, making him powerless to do nothing else but nod.
Shane is quick to thread their fingers together, finding the up and down motion Ilya likes in stride. The tightness of their joint grip is obscene and Ilya is so close. It only takes a handful of strokes before he’s painting their hands with that sweet release.
Resting his forehead on Shane’s, Ilya breaths through the comedown of his orgasm. He counts the breaths Shane takes until the ringing in his ears is gone and his body finally drifts back down to Earth. Shane is waiting there for him, a soft smile on his face.
“Want to actually get in bed? I’m not sure I can hold you up much longer.”
Ilya snorts out a laugh and lets more of his body weight press into Shane. “You sure? You are very comfy.”
“You’re an asshole,” Shane says, the smile never leaving his face.
“I think you like it,” Ilya replies back, a softness in his voice.
While Shane says nothing in reply, Ilya can’t help but notice the tenderness in the way Shane holds him in bed. There’s no pressure for more, just connection and touch. It’s so much, Ilya wants to pull away, he wants to take twenty steps back… he wants to huddle closer and ask for more. Somewhere in the middle, Ilya relaxes into Shane and lets the flow of their easy connection take him.
——
The next few weeks are an exhilarating combination of learning more about hockey and falling even harder for the man teaching him.
Of course, on the ice, they are perfect professionals. Shane drew a hard line in the sand that first week and Ilya isn’t going to be the one to cross it. When skates and pads are on, Shane is a hockey master and Ilya his humble padawan. In all honesty, it’s fun to set aside the nerves and trepidation of wanting. Without it in the way, Ilya focuses much better on the task at hand. Knowing it’s all fun and games when the gloves come off makes it so much easier to give time on the ice his all.
Shane makes it more than worth it when they are all done. Between slow nights at the Hollander home and private dinners cooked by Ilya himself, the two of them spend almost every spare moment together. With Shane off and his workouts taken care of by his time with Ilya on the ice, there’s plenty of time to get to know each other.
And not just physically. It’s important Ilya keeps that in the forefront of his mind. This thing with Shane goes so far beyond the desire to see him naked (though that is an amazing sight). With each second they spend together, Ilya feels himself becoming more and more attached. It’s a scary thing to take part in the process of falling in love. Ilya is new to it and it’s such a foreign thing, it’s hard to tell if he’s doing it right.
It feels so good to try, though. Ilya can easily admit that after going out of his way to plan a really cool date for them. Things are still new enough to keep whatever is happening between them on the down low. Which means going out in public has to be a private thing. Luckily, Ilya is well known enough around town to pull a few strings for their very special evening.
More than anything, Ilya wants Shane to know this is real for him. That, at the end of the day, Ilya wants to keep on trying, to keep on moving forward, to keep on doing everything with Shane by his side. In the dark or out in the light, Ilya can’t bring himself to care.
The night of their date rolls around with a great practice and the most beautiful weather. Ilya isn’t one to look much into the signs around him, though if he was, it seems like they’re all pointing towards something good. For the first time since things started between them, Ilya gets to see Shane in a completely different light.
Wanting to make things as date like as possible, Ilya picks Shane up in one of his fancy cars, 8PM sharp. It’s with a racing heart that he knocks on Shane’s door and sweaty palms that he leads Shane to the car. Without any neighbors close, Shane doesn’t even look around to see if anyone notices the way Ilya brushes their bodies together as Shane gets in the car.
Driving is always quiet with Shane in the passenger seat. Ilya knows it’s because he drives too fast and not as safely as Shane likes. And while he’s happy not to be nagged, Ilya already misses the sound of Shane’s voice. It’s such a silly thing to think but it’s true. Ilya wants to be wrapped up in whatever Shane Hollander wants to say.
Dinner, thankfully, is a much different affair. Shane is dumbfounded by the jazz club Ilya leads him to and spends a lot of dinner asking questions about the various artists and albums on the wall. Happy to be surrounded by two of his favorite things, Ilya answers what he can. He’s not much of a historian but Ilya Rozanov knows his jazz. Enough, at least, for Shane to pay rapt attention to everything coming out of Ilya’s mouth.
“I don’t usually care much for music but this is great. Seriously, Ilya - I can’t remember having a better time,” Shane says a little later in the evening as they sip dessert wine and share creme brûlée. His smile is easy and those dark brown eyes don’t look away from Ilya. His stare is intense and captivating. Too much in a place where Ilya still has to keep his distance.
“The night isn’t over yet. I met Ellisa Sun during the filming of my last movie. She is in town for a show tomorrow but had enough time to come play a couple songs for us tonight. Her saxophonist is amazing, Shane. You are in for a treat.” Ilya is grinning from ear to ear as he speaks, all of him content.
Though, Ilya comes to find a new level of happiness an instant later. Shane stares at him, his big brown eyes wide and wet. He’s quiet as he reaches across the table to grab Ilya’s hand. Their fingers tangle and Ilya’s heart beats forty beats faster. Shane’s palm finally settles against Ilya’s, this unexpected (and kind of public) connection complete.
“You take my breath away, you know? I can’t with you.” And though he’s not looking at Ilya when he does it, Shane brings the back of Ilya’s hand to his mouth to press a soft kiss there. “Such an asshole.”
“You like it,” Ilya sing songs, breaking up a bit of the quickly thickening emotion. He’s rewarded with Shane’s ‘Ilya only’ smile and a tight squeeze of his hand.
“I really, really do.”
Just a couple weeks ago, Ilya thought he was on top of the world. Landing this role, it felt like the main pipeline to happiness. Sitting here now, Ilya is certain this is the pinnacle. Shane’s smile, the way he looks over at Ilya as the music starts to play… it’s everything he’s been searching for and more. It’s so blissful, Ilya doesn’t think twice about pulling Shane onto the dance floor. There’s no one there to see them, anyway.
Shane doesn’t hesitate, either. Both arms wrap around Ilya’s neck, keeping them close. They sway and try not to smile dopily at each other, though that’s a wash. Ilya can’t help the way his cheeks burn, the way his lips stretch as he grins and grins and grins. Eventually, it’s too much - Ilya tucks his head so they’re forehead to forehead and lets his eyes close.
For a while, they drift away on the swift sounds of an alto sax.
The rest of their night stays sweet and smooth, just like the jazz they just listened to. Shane invites Ilya in and this time, things feel different. There’s no rush to get each other out of their clothes. They kiss softly and hold hands walking down the hall to Shane’s room. When they do start to strip each other down, it’s with tender hands and lips that following in their wake. There’s no fumbling to get at each other’s cocks or racing to see who gets off first. Ilya slowly unfolds Shane down onto the mattress, nothing but intimacy and being together on his mind.
“Will you fuck me?” Shane asks, his voice breathy after their shared kisses.
Ilya’s lips trail a line down Shane’s neck, his need to touch too overwhelming to stop in order to chat. He’s high on Shane and the question only makes it worse.
“Yes. Anything you want, Shane. Anything.” Ilya caps his words off with licks and nips that draw a groan from Shane.
“Do it,” Shane says, threading his fingers through Ilya’s hair and giving it a tug. “Make me yours.”
The command is a jolt right to the gut. Ilya leans into Shane’s touch, a soft moan falling from his own lips. “Anything,” Ilya repeats, sealing his promise with a hard kiss to Shane’s lips.
Despite constantly having their hands on each other, this is the first time Shane’s offered anything more. Not being one to look twice at good fortune, Ilya goes with the flow - he’s just happy to be wherever Shane is. The opportunity to finally be one with Shane… it’s more than Ilya’s been worried about wanting. Having it offered so wantonly, Ilya can’t refuse.
Prep is filled with long kisses and Shane’s surprisingly dirty teasing. As one finger turns to two and then three, Shane mumbles about Ilya’s cock, how he’s excited to finally feel it inside of him, how he’s been longing to know just how big Ilya really is. It’s a good distraction from the want rampaging through Ilya’s system. He’s grounded and kind of in control of himself when Shane finally nods his readiness.
Sheathed up and more than a little on edge, Ilya presses just the tip of his cock against Shane’s hole. He leans down then, kissing Shane softly. “Okay?” Ilya asks, though he doesn’t really wait for an answer. Shane’s legs grip his hips tightly, rolling up so more of Ilya starts to slip inside. It’s impossible not to keep going until Ilya is completely tied together with Shane.
“More than okay,” Shane eventually mutters. He’s got his head thrown back, those brown eyes closed up tight. With a couple of deep breaths, Shane starts to relax. The clenched muscles around Ilya loosen and finally, all is right in the world.
“Fuck, Shane. I - it has never felt this like this. So good, so right.” Ilya has no idea what’s coming out of his mouth or if he’s even truly talking. He’s out of his mind with a desire that is increasing by each sticky moment Ilya gets to feel Shane’s warmth around him.
Pulling back his hips, Ilya starts to thrust. He creates a slow rhythm, Ilya searching for that spot with each curious forward push. He gives Shane time to get adjusted, his pace just enough to tease the idea of more. Once he finds Shane’s prostate, however, the steps of their heated dance change.
“Yes, right there,” Shane says, his heels digging hard into Ilya’s lower back.
Whatever composure Ilya had is completely gone, the lust inside of him snapping the tether keeping him together and whole. Increasing his pace, Ilya starts to really thrust. The sound of it is loud in the room, Ilya’s hips snapping hard against Shane’s ass over and over again. It’s what Ilya wants to hear for the rest of his life. The soundtrack of Shane and Ilya, volume 1.
Shane’s hands find Ilya’s face, his grip firm and sure as he makes Ilya look at him.
“I’m going to come. You should, too.”
It’s like magic, the way Shane’s words pull Ilya’s orgasm right out of him. His hips snap one last time, then he’s burying himself as deep in Shane as he can. Through all the chaos, Ilya watches Shane fall apart. In a way, it’s better than his own step across the finish line. There’s something about the shape of Shane’s lips as they form Ilya’s name, the way he shouts and holds onto Ilya like his life depends on it. There’s nothing like it. There’s nothing more Ilya can think to want.
They lay together afterwards, the condom tied off and in the trash, Shane’s skin wiped clean of sweat and come. Their limbs are tangled together, Ilya unable to decide where he ends and Shane begins.
“So worth the wait,” Shane whispers against Ilya’s forehead, his lips lingering there.
——
It only makes sense that such a high is followed by the lowest of lows.
About a week after their date, Ilya realizes he only has a couple days left with Shane on the ice. With the deadline coming up, Ilya is surprised he forgot such an important thing. Well, maybe not surprised - Ilya’s been floating on cloud nine with Shane right beside him living in their own little world. It’s so easy to be swept away in Shane that Ilya forgets.
He forgets so badly, Ilya is caught off guard by the cast and crew slowly starting to trickle in, their presence a sign that things are changing, that after this one final practice, the intimacy of just Shane and him on the ice is gone.
Frustrated by his lack of control over the entire situation, Ilya plays like absolute shit in front of the film’s director. It’s such a travesty, Ilya is called over to Brian after another failed attempt at getting the puck in the net.
“Rozanov - you didn’t waste eight weeks of time, right?! We paid Mr. Hollander here a pretty penny to get you game ready. Are you game ready? Or did we waste our money on some slapstick who can’t get his shit together?”
Brian mentioning Shane’s name in the conversation has Ilya focusing in. The last thing Ilya wants is for Shane to lose this opportunity or get barred from future work on film sets. His little brat attitude has to go by the wayside now; it’s not only his career in question. Understanding that makes answering Brian a whole lot easier.
“I am game ready, I promise you. Give me one more chance to prove it.” Ilya hears himself pleading but it’s all he can do. His desire to be happy and revel in it isn’t going to be the thing that ruins this chance for him… or Shane for that matter.
Brian looks at him for a long second, his face completely blank as he does. It makes Ilya’s skin crawl, the anticipation is so palpable he feels like he might choke. Ilya even raises a hand and lets it rest against his throat. He needs that reassurance he isn’t drowning on air.
Eventually, Brian nods. “Go through the whole program again. I want to see Sydney Dunn on that ice.”
Chastised and disappointed in himself, Ilya doubles down to play the best hockey he ever has. And though that’s not saying a lot for someone who’s never actually played hockey, Brian is smiling when Ilya comes off the ice that second time.
“Knew you had it in you. Take a break the next couple of days. We’ll get all the pre-shooting done and ready for you Friday. I don’t want to see your face until then.”
Taking the offer for what it is, Ilya quickly leaves the busy part of the rink. In the locker room, there’s a peace and quiet Ilya hasn’t looked for in weeks. As he strips down, Ilya tries to empty his mind completely.
Of course, that’s when Shane Hollander decides to find him. Ilya stands there with just a towel around his waist watching Shane, wondering what Montreal’s captain is doing running into the locker room like it’s on fire.
“Jesus Christ, you’re still here. I totally forgot the film crew was coming in today. Is everything okay?” The words fall out of Shane a mile a minute. It’s a lot and Ilya is too strung out to do anything but stare back at Shane.
He must look pathetic or sad because Shane’s face crumples. “Ilya…”
Shaking his head, Ilya tries to convey the overwhelm but it’s just too much. His eyes start to water with the sting of tears. Ilya drops his gaze then, all of him so embarrassed by today’s entire display.
Ilya is stuck in limbo, waiting for pathetic tears to fall, waiting for his job to be yanked from his hands. He’s so done in by it all he doesn’t see Shane narrow the gap between them. It’s not until strong arms wrap around him that Ilya realizes Shane closed the distance. That, despite having so much fear about them being seen in public, he still is here, holding Ilya in his arms.
The gesture is sweet and foreign. Ilya wants to cling to Shane yet take those same twenty steps back from him, too. They are in this precarious in between that Ilya doesn’t know how to navigate. In the face of finally getting what he wants, both the job and Shane, is Ilya lucky enough not to sacrifice one for the other?
An answer comes in the form of a grainy photo of them early the next morning.
Ilya is ignorant of the cruel invasion of their privacy until about 5AM when his phone rings and rings and doesn’t stop until Ilya picks it up. He’s not one for abrupt wake ups so he’s not at his best when the call eventually connects.
“Who is calling me so early in the morning?” Ilya asks. It’s silly of him not to check the caller ID but sleep is still clinging to him, trying desperately to pull him back under.
The voice on the other side of the line jolts him awake. His brain goes from off to fully functioning in a second.
“It’s Svetlana, Ilya. Something happened and it’s not good. Put me on speaker and head to ENews. It’s the very first article you see.”
With nerves coursing through him, Ilya does exactly what he’s asked. It feels robotic to go through each step but it’s the only way. Ilya is shaken to the core and he doesn’t even know what’s going on yet.
The feeling only gets worse when he sees what Svetlana is calling about.
Leading man, Ilya Rozanov and hockey superstar Shane Hollander were caught in a clearly intimate moment on set. People want to know - is Ilya Rozanov taking his role as Sydney Dunn too seriously? Or is love in the air for these two powerhouses? Read more on page 7 to find out!
Below the headline is a pixelated photo of a shirtless Ilya hugging Shane tightly. The moment is still fresh in Ilya’s brain as one of the most tender. Now, it’s marred by whoever decided to sell a private moment to the highest bidder. It’s disgusting and more importantly, heartbreaking. There’s no way Shane takes this well. There’s no way the thing between them survives something like this.
Pushing that thought aside for now, Ilya forces himself to focus on the phone, call at hand.
“Fuck! Is there anything we can do to get the article removed?” Ilya knows he’s grasping at straws. In this day and age, once something is out there… there’s no taking it back.
Svetlana says as much. “No, you are smart enough to know that. Only thing we can do now is damage control. They’re wanting to paint you as someone simply trying on your character’s shoes. It’s time to remind them of your queer identity.”
Biting into his bottom lip, Ilya considers the suggestion. “What about Shane? If I force that narrative, how does that affect him?”
“I will have to talk to his manager. He is not out, yes? Or you would have told me about the two of you long before this?”
Ilya can hear the irritation in her voice; it’s obvious that this isn’t just going to go away without a lot of effort on Svetlana’s part. At least she’s used to sweeping up the mess.
“He’s only out to his family. And his team. We have been dating almost six weeks now. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. He means a lot to me. Enough to slink back into the closet for a while.”
“Hang tight, then. Let me find out who is representing him and give them a call. If we’re doing this, both parties have to be on board.”
After hanging up with Svetlana, Ilya calls Shane.
Shane answers after only one ring. “Ilya! I can’t believe this is happening. It’s my nightmare. My worst fucking nightmare.”
“I’m so sorry, Shane. Truly. I know how important coming out on your own terms was.” Ilya can still recall that conversation, the way Shane spoke about the perfect scenario to show the world who he truly is. Having a grainy photo posted of him is not that.
“I already took a call from the MHL commissioner. He basically told me I needed to find a way to make this quiet as soon as possible. That the Sydney Dunn movie is already giving them unwanted attention…”
Ilya’s heart drops, the worst of the worst is happening and there’s not a thing he can do to stop it.
“Do you? Want to find a way to make it disappear, I mean.”
There’s quiet on the line, it feels like forever before Shane finally answers. “No. Even if we could mind wipe the entire planet, there’s no use. I’m tired of fighting against something I can’t control. I’m tired of fighting against how much I want you.”
Ilya tries to sniff back the tears but there’s no use. He lets out a sob that can’t be choked down. It loosens something in him to the point where tears are cascading down Ilya’s cheeks and he’s crying openly. Maybe for the first time in his life, Ilya lets himself feel all the emotions of the moment.
Shane is silent on the other end, the sound of his breathing the only companion Ilya needs throughout his little breakdown. It’s a comfort to know Shane isn’t going to run at the first sign of tears cried or emotion shown. Shane as a whole is a comfort… one that Ilya now knows he can rely on.
“Do you feel better?” Shane asks after Ilya’s sobs turn to sniffles instead.
Sucking in a deep breath, Ilya notices the weight on his chest is gone. The thing sitting on him, keeping him working hard against this unknown entity… there’s no room for it anymore. The worry and wonder from just ten minutes ago is replaced by something foreign Ilya’s never experienced before. Maybe it’s safety or maybe it’s contentment. Whatever the case is, Ilya is different because of it.
“Yeah, I do.” Ilya waits a beat to let his heart settle back to a normal rhythm. Then, “so are we doing this? You and me? That’s what you want?”
Wishing more than ever to see Shane’s face, Ilya tries to picture it. He’s probably got that pinch between his brows and that wet, unshed tear look. Ilya is tentatively smiling so the Shane in his mind is, too.
“It’s what I want. Call your manager back. Tell her we’re making a joint statement.”
Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander are devastated by this cruel invasion into their privacy and want that to be known. Mr. Rozanov and Mr. Hollander also want it known that they would appreciate a newfound level of privacy going forward as they pursue their separate careers and the possibility of a romantic relationship together. While this news is shocking to some, Ilya and Shane are simply trying to live their lives. Both parties humbly ask for time to adjust and your continued support.
Despite Svetlana’s cleverly worded statement, Ilya and Shane are hounded by the press. For a while, a whole flock of paparazzi camp outside of Ilya’s house, hoping, he supposes, to see signs of Shane Hollander existing there. Too bad no one knows they spend all their time together at Shane’s house. After a week of only getting photos of Ilya flipping them the bird, the crew moves onto bigger and more interesting pastures.
It’s a relief to be able to walk out of his house without cameras clicking, though that’s the only place the intensity of media coverage drops off. No matter where they are out in public, new photos of them pop up almost instantly. It’s like they’re a side show the rest of the world is watching under a microscope. While it feels like a lot, Ilya knows it’s worth it. Being with Shane… they can get through just about anything together.
Except, maybe that’s not the case. Shane starts to slowly pull away with each insane day that passes. At first, Ilya chalks it up to the hockey season starting and his own busy shooting schedule. The longer it goes on, the more Ilya understands what is actually happening. It’s like a bomb going off, he can see the seconds ticking down but is powerless to slow them, or to stop the eruption that’s bound to happen.
When it does, Ilya still isn’t prepared for it.
“I think we need to talk.”
Those words feel like nails placed against the front of his coffin.
“I don’t think I can keep doing this. At least, not right now.”
Those are the hammering of each nail into the wood.
Shane finishes his kill with a shot to the heart. As he leaves, he presses the softest kiss to Ilya’s lips. “I’m sorry.”
——
The next couple of months are a blur. Ilya dives head first into filming, wanting nothing more than to do this part the justice it deserves; it’s as good a distraction as any, too. Though he’s not with Shane anymore, Ilya knows how important Sydney Dunn and his strength are to not only the LGBTQIA community but the world of athletics itself. For the next Shane Hollander in the ranks, Ilya wants to be one of those guiding lights.
That’s what he tries to tell himself, at least.
For the first handful of weeks, it’s difficult to force the normal facade of Ilya Rozanov for those needing to see it. On set, he’s on point down to the small movements of his skates. He’s professional and his own version of kind, though through it all, he’s dying on the inside.
Once the movie is shot and Ilya’s part is done, it gets a little easier not to think of Shane every second of every day. Without having to be on the ice or think about the sport or even pretend to be a hockey player, missing Shane doesn’t hurt as much.
About a week before the movie’s world premiere, Svetlana drags him out of the house to shop and celebrate the movie’s opening. She’s pristine as always and Ilya… he’s at least dressed for the day and willing to do something other than mope around on his couch yearning for Shane to call.
They are getting a suit fitted for the premiere when Svetlana says in flawless Russian, “you look like shit, Rozanov.”
Using their native language is unusual but comforting all the same. Ilya’s lips curl into a smile, probably the first one on his face in days.
“I feel like it. Heartbreak is terrible. Why do we ever try to love when it hurts so badly?”
With a hum, Svetlana takes all of Ilya in. The bags under his eyes, the pale color of his skin, even the way the suit has to be brought in a little more than usual. It’s obvious Ilya isn’t okay and Svetlana can finally see it.
“It is worth it. In the end, things always work out the way they’re supposed to. The one you love is not here right now but that’s okay. I have hope, Ilya. Hope for you and this happy ending you want so badly.”
“You are too good of a friend. Naive, maybe, but a good friend.”
Svetlana makes a disappointed sound then. “You give up too easily. I’ve seen you obsessively watching the Metros on tv. I know you miss him.”
Being seen is usually something Ilya loves about his time with Svetlana. Now, he wants to cover her eyes with both his hands. What is in front of her right now doesn’t need to be read for a fool. Ilya knows he’s miserable and carrying that hurt with him everywhere he goes.
“Yes, I miss him. I miss the way things fit so easily between us.” Ilya smiles wistfully, it’s too hard not to with Shane fresh on his brain. “He said he could not do it, Svetlana. Who am I to force someone’s hand?”
“Fair enough. I still don’t think you should just give up. His manager, my new friend Rose Landry, she said…”
Ilya holds up a hand to stop her. “Please don’t. Knowing anything about him right now will just make my heart ache more.”
“He’s watching all your movies, Ilya. The very small, very slim collection of them. Over and over, Rose Landry says.”
“So glad you and Rose Landry are now buddy-buddy. Maybe you two should date.” Ilya says this in sarcasm but the flush that washes across Svetlana’s cheeks makes him double take. “Oh, so it is like that.”
Svetlana is quick to slap his shoulder playfully. “We’re not here to talk about me.”
Laughing, for the first time in a while, Ilya wraps an arm around his friend’s shoulder, pulling her in close. “We are here to pick out a dancing monkey suit. Once Francis is back, I want some food.”
“Either your stomach or your dick. You men are all the same.”
Their afternoon and the brief glimpse of happiness carry Ilya through the next couple of days. He’s impatient to have this premier over with; the quicker their worldwide tour starts, the better. Despite the warmth Svetlana can always provide, Ilya needs new space to breathe away from the heartache still alive and well inside his chest. If nothing else, being out of Montreal means not being tempted to seek Shane Hollander out.
Cause, that’s been one of the most difficult things. Being so close yet so far away is a gut punch - maybe an even bigger one than the breakup itself. Without anything tragic or dramatic tearing them apart, Ilya’s heart still calls for Shane. His mind and body don’t understand why there’s distance when the yearning and want still sit in the driver’s seat. It’s so confusing to hurt without being hurt. Every aching pain gets a little harder to deal with - the only solution is Shane and the rational side of Ilya knows he’s not here and won’t ever be again.
A sharp elbow to the side brings Ilya out of his thoughts. He’s in his brand new suit, waiting for the town car to come pick them up. Svetlana is standing impatiently next to him, a tempered grimace on her face.
“Get your shit together. This is the first time the world is going to see your Sydney Dunn. Make them believe it, Ilya.” She grabs his forearm and gives it a quick squeeze. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Why are you going through all this mushy shit now. There’s still a twenty minute car ride for you to rant at me through.” Ilya says this just as the town car pulls up. He’s quick to get the back door open, waving for Svetlana to get in.
“I’m not going. At least in the same car as you.” Her earlier grimace is now a smirk, this one making her eyes glow. “There’s a little surprise in the back seat for you. Good luck tonight, Ilya Rozanov.” She’s manhandling him as she speaks, her surprisingly strong hands practically push him through the open car door.
Too dumbfounded to do anything but duck into the car, Ilya is taken aback by another body in the backseat with him. Once he allows himself to take everything in, Ilya suddenly understands why Svetlana basically threw him in and slammed the door.
There, in one of the nicest suits he’s ever seen, is Shane Hollander. A hopeful smile firmly in place.
“Hi Ilya.”
Stunned, Ilya simply blinks in Shane’s direction. He’s a sight for sore eyes in a blue suit jacket with a crisp white shirt underneath. The fit is perfect, squaring Shane’s shoulders in a way that makes Ilya want to bite them. It’s not the right time for a thought like that but it can’t be help - Ilya’s missed every part of Shane, those boulder shoulders included.
“Shane Hollander. You clean up nice, look very pretty in a suit.” Ilya tries to make his reply causal, full to the brim with his own version of sass.
It’s not enough to push away all the things, though. That much is absolutely clear when their bodies start to move towards each other. They are magnetically drawn together and Ilya can’t fight it. He doesn’t want to, either, not when Shane wraps him up in the tightest hug. It’s squeezing the breath out of him but Ilya can’t bring himself to care. After weeks apart, Shane is here.
“I missed you,” Shane whispers against the shell of Ilya’s ear. “I’m sorry I got freaked out, that I ran. You didn’t deserve that.” Shane pulls back, those brown eyes watery and wide. “We didn’t deserve that. I’m so so sorry, Ilya.”
“Is okay. I get it. I know why you did what you did. I even understand it. I’m curious, though, are you here for good? Or did Svetlana bribe you to come tonight? I am glad you are here, I just worry about my expectations. They’re steadily climbing higher every second you are in front of me.”
Shane’s grip around him tightens. All those hockey muscles keep Ilya locked against Shane’s chest… as if Ilya ever wants to leave the warmth there ever again. Still, he needs to hear what Shane has to say before diving headfirst into this thing obviously still on fire between them. Fool him once, shame on them. Fool him twice, shame on Ilya.
“No bribes were necessary. Her and my manager, Rose, they both had a lot to say about my decision. It wasn’t until Svetlana told me about how miserable you are that everything finally clicked into place. I hated life without you.”
Shane puts a hand on Ilya’s cheek, his thumb softly brushing whatever skin it can reach. “I took something good away from us. I hurt every day we were apart. Sounds like you did, too. What’s the point of hiding when that is what causes the most pain? I didn’t want to constantly be taking shit from all the guys on the ice but it never stopped. It’s never going to, either. So why isolate myself from the one person who I know can help me get through this, that will love me through it all anyway? Why ruin both our lives for the sake of self preservation that doesn’t actually exist? I just hurt us both and I’m sorry.”
There’s a lot of words for Ilya to process. His mind is blanking on English right now but the gist of Shane’s confession is understood. It is what Ilya’s been dying to hear. It is all he needs to know.
Without second guessing himself, Ilya reaches up to cup Shane’s chin. “Do not do it again. I’m not - I can’t take another separation like that.”
Ilya waits just long enough for Shane to nod before surging forward to finally press their lips together. The kiss starts off soft and tentative, it’s been weeks and Ilya needs to tread this ground carefully.
Except, Shane isn’t having that. He’s got both hands buried in Ilya’s hair, breaking through the gel cast holding down his curls. The move draws a moan from Ilya who in turn gives back as good as he’s getting. All the pent up feelings from the last couple of months are bubbling to the surface, threatening to drag them both down and under.
Ilya is okay with that. He wants to exist with Shane Hollander like this, where they can’t keep their hands off each other, where there’s a contentment Ilya hasn’t felt since the last time Shane was near. For the rest of the ride, Ilya absorbs all he can of Shane and their crazy connection that seems even more intense now that there’s no one trying to fight it.
The stopping of the car is what draws them away from each other. Daring to look away from Shane, Ilya notices they’re in the slowly inching line to be dropped off at the start of the red carpet.
“Game face on, Hollander. It’s almost time.” Ilya tries to create a little bit of distance as he speaks, though Shane isn’t having that, either.
“We will be visible very soon. If you don’t let go, another photo might surface.” Feeling panicked about that, Ilya tries again to pull himself away from Shane.
“Will you stop? I want to hold your hand, okay? I want to walk the red carpet and have everyone know you’re mine. I made a mistake, Ilya.” Shane squeezes Ilya’s hand before continuing. “You are nothing to be ashamed of. The biggest travesty of this situation is the fact that I ever made you think so.”
Too overwhelmed to use words, Ilya gives Shane a soft kiss instead. His lips linger, though the touch is kept light. Ilya doesn’t stop until the car is braking for good and their driver gets out to open the door. It’s only then he forces himself away, it’s only then words come back to him.
“Are you sure?”
Smiling brightly at him, Shane nods. “More sure than I’ve ever been.”
Shane gets out of the car first, followed very closely by Ilya. It’s a nightmare of flashing bulbs and people shouting that Ilya forgets how to navigate for a moment. Luckily, Shane is there; he reaches out to grab ahold of Ilya’s hand, knitting their fingers together. It’s grounding, at least enough that Ilya remembers who the fuck he is.
His blank stare shifts into a megawatt smile. As they travel down the carpet, hand in hand, Ilya smiles and laughs, his attitude and spirits are lifted so much, he starts to forget they’re in the middle of a media circus. He’s all about Shane and the rightness of doing something like this together for the very first time.
Ilya is pulled aside every now and then for interviews with the press. He keeps his hand in Shane’s until the very last second; Ilya is unwilling to be too far away from Shane right now. Despite it being silly, Ilya is still afraid to blink… he isn’t sure what he’d do if this was all a dream.
It’s not, though. That much is tangible by the interview questions and the way everyone wants to know more about Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander than the icon they’re there to promote. And though he tries to steer the conversation back to the man at hand, Ilya is all too happy to beam about his and Shane’s names being clumped together.
Finally, after a billion questions and even more photos snapped, they are safely ensconced in the theater. Their seats are right up front with the rest of the cast and crew. Ilya introduces Shane around but there’s no need. The Metros are a legend in Montreal and Shane is their leader. All the hockey buffs are chomping at the bit trying to get a word in. It’s funny to watch and even more endearing. Everyone loves Shane… just like Ilya does.
And it’s true… Ilya is in love with this man and seems to be falling harder by the second.
The movie is a good distraction from thoughts that have no place at a film premier. Though the presence of Shane next to him keeps Ilya’s mind just occupied enough to not get bored throughout the film.
Thankfully, the movie is fantastic and Ilya can breathe again. It’s impossible to tell how mentally and emotionally drained he was throughout the filming process. It’s a small mercy after such a difficult time of it. Ilya is happy to know his training and natural skill kept his personal shit at bay. When the credits role, it’s easy to see Ilya is Sydney Dunn, there’s no question about it.
Without the hoops to jump through leaving the theater, Shane and Ilya make it to the town car in record speed. He’s going to see his cast and crew every day for the next two weeks so lingering to get their opinions can easily wait.
The only person Ilya stops to talk to on his way out is Sydney Dunn himself. Shane stops him before the older man tries to get Ilya’s attention.
“That’s Sydney Dunn,” Shane says, his voice high and excited, almost like a little kid’s. This must be a dream coming true for the hockey obsessed captain of the Metros.
Ilya isn’t able to respond or tease, Sydney Dunn is suddenly standing right in front of them, a warm smile on his face.
“You’re a better version of me than I ever was,” Sydney says in way of greeting. “I told Trip this movie would never get off the ground but I was wrong. And so glad to be. You truly embraced what my career was about. Not the wins or the trophies but the lasting good of the sport I love.”
Sydney turns to Shane then, his smile widening. “Don’t let a little media attention scare you off. If this is the big love, hold on tight. No amount of macho bullshit should stop you from loving who you love.”
With a wink and the quickest of handshakes, Sydney Dunn is gone, his clicking steps on the floor the only indicator what just happened actually occurred. Ilya is still trying to process Sydney’s comment while Shane opens and closes his mouth like a fish; he’s so dumbfounded, words won’t come.
“He’s right you know,” Shane says a while later. They’re tangled up post make up sex, both sweaty and panting, happiness and satiation swirling around them.
Ilya, still a little out of it from the amazingness of his orgasm, looks over at Shane with dopey eyes and a brow raised. “Who is he?”
“Sydney Dunn.”
Snorting, Ilya shifts his hold on Shane so their eyes can meet. “You were thinking about Sydney Dunn this whole time? Wow, Hollander.” Ilya makes sure Shane knows he’s joking by following those words with a smacking kiss.
“No, you asshole. Lying with you, being together like this… it reminded me of what he said.” Shane gets serious, his tone changing. “This is the big one for me. You’re it, Ilya.”
“I love you, Shane. You are it for me, too.”
Shane’s eyes widen, his face almost comical in any other situation. “Holy shit,” he says first, that shocked look shifting to something more dreamy. “I love you, too.”
Overwhelmed and a little embarrassed about it, Ilya gives Shane a quick kiss then ducks his head to hide in Shane’s neck. After such a whirlwind of the last couple of months, Ilya just needs to soak this up. Shane must understand that; he asks no more questions, he doesn’t try to talk… Shane simply runs fingers through Ilya’s hair and hums softly under his breath.
It’s perfect.
It’s all Ilya’s ever wanted.
——
‘Did you all see who is in the building this evening?!’
‘Sure did, Stan. Academy Award nominated Best Actor Ilya Rozanov is up in the suites. I wonder if our golden boy Shane Hollander has noticed yet.’
‘Looks like it, Mitch! All eyes are pointed towards the Metros’s suite level. Do you think he’s wearing it?’
Ilya grins listening to the broadcasters over the suite’s speakers; they’ve been the biggest fanboys of Shane and Ilya’s relationship recently. It’s a different vibe than either ever imagined being out and open like this would cause. Not only is it a relief, Ilya finds himself more and more excited to go to Shane’s games. Celebrity gossip is all drug addiction and who’s divorcing who. Ilya loves that the sports world is championing to see them happy.
So, Ilya tosses his favorite broadcasters a bone.
Stepping out from the protective privacy of the suite’s doors, Ilya lets himself be seen. He waves to the crowd, his smile growing as the hype for him gets louder and louder. Knowing what they’re all excited about, Ilya turns so everyone can see the name Hollander worn proudly across his back. The noise level grows as Ilya turns back around to take in the crowd.
Shane, that gorgeous man, is looking up like the rest of Montreal’s fans, a megawatt smile on his face. He waves and Ilya waves back. And despite that being such a simple gesture, the entire arena starts to go even crazier.
After the chaos of a fandom gone nuts, things die down until well into the second period. Shane makes a miraculous goal and before he’s wrapped up in his teammates, he points towards the stands where Ilya is. The camera doesn’t catch the celebratory huddle on the ice. Instead, it pans to Ilya who is on his feet, clapping like an insane person.
When fans leave the stadium that afternoon, there’s no doubt who Shane Hollander’s biggest inspiration is.
Later that same evening, wrapped up in fancy tuxes and sitting at a table with all his cast and crew, Ilya is treated to the same reaction when his name is called for Best Actor.
Shane jumps out of his chair, practically hauling Ilya up with him. Stunned and a little taken off guard, Ilya leans into Shane’s grounding touch.
“You fucking did it, baby!”
Shane’s exclamation is so endearing, Ilya forgets the rest of the world to plant a hard kiss on Shane’s lips.
“Is all for you. I love you,” Ilya manages to say before he’s prodded to stray from the table and walk up to the podium.
It’s surreal to hold an Academy Award in his hand. Ilya quickly realizes looking out into a crowd of fellow actors happy for him is a bit surreal, too. Reaching into his coat pocket, Ilya grabs his speech to start before it all gets too overwhelming.
“Hi everyone. You’ll have to excuse me if this gets a little muddled. English gets harder in situations like this.” Ilya smiles out at the crowd, though he’s sure it comes off shaky.”
“I want to start by thanking my cast and crew. Without you guys, this movie is just me dumbly skating around pretending to play hockey. Your nuance, skill, and never ending give a shit made our film a triumph. Svetlana, thank you for believing in me and pushing me to find true happiness. I am standing here today because of that gentle shove. Special thanks to Sydney Dunn for living such an inspiring life and coming in clutch with much needed words of wisdom. The game of hockey and the queer community are forever changed by your contribution. Lastly, I want to thank the love of my life, Shane Hollander. You give me a reason to be the best version of myself. You are a guiding light in a world that can be so dark. You are my best friend and everything I do is for you and us and the beautiful little life we’re growing together. This award is for you and every other person out there fighting the good fight day in and day out to simply exist. With your courage to keep pushing and your trust in me, our love wins every time.” It’s then Ilya takes a breath and holds up the award in his hands. “Thank you everyone. So so much.”
Ilya is guided off the stage where he’s asked a billion questions while cameras snap and flash to take his picture. Other winners congratulate him as he joins the ranks of small population within the acting community. He’s an Academy Award winner - the title is going to follow him for the rest of his career.
By the time he’s allowed back to the front of the auditorium, the show is over and everyone is quietly mingling. Ilya finds Shane standing next to Svetlana and Rose, the two of them holding hands and beaming. It’s funny how things work out, how life has a way of showing what is needed long before the personal realization occurs.
Always searching for it, Ilya is happy to know he finally has a family. When they embrace him, it’s with a warmth only loved ones can give.
Trailing behind the girls, Shane gives Ilya’s hand a tight squeeze. “I’m so proud of you, Ilya. And your speech, it was beautiful. I can imagine every queer kid afraid of the world watching it over and over again.” They laugh then, their bodies gravitating together.
Shane throws an arm around Ilya’s shoulders, pulling his boyfriend even closer. “I can’t believe I get to fuck an Academy Award winner.”
With a grin, Ilya plants a soft kiss against Shane’s cheek. “Lucky you.”