Chapter Text
“You would’ve never said yes…”
“Oh, I am sorry,” Ilya said, his voice heavy and sarcastic. “You know it is a no so you sneak him in your window? You are sneaky now?”
“Fine! Then I won’t sneak around. Dad, can Noah come over to hang out?”
“Absolutely not!” Ilya yelled, planting his hands on the counter and taking a deep breath.
The morning had been lovely. Almost perfect. It was a Saturday morning in the summer, and Ilya and Shane’s youngest daughter had woken them up at dawn. Their energetic three year old, Yuna Mei, usually poked Ilya’s eyelids until he carried her downstairs to make waffles. But this morning she had mercifully fallen back asleep and cuddled between her dads until nine.
When the three of them finally rolled out of bed, Shane went on a run, and Mei helped Ilya put together a breakfast tray to bring to his eldest daughter. Irina was sleeping in later and later as she aged further into her teens, having just turned seventeen earlier that summer. Seeing Mei arrange blueberries and whipped cream to make a smile on her sister’s pancakes reminded Ilya of how Irina used to help him make breakfast for Shane in the morning, tossing blueberries into the blender and eating whipped cream straight out of the canister. It had been their little secret:
“Don’t tell dad, he thinks it is not healthy,” Ilya would whisper, like they were spies. And then Irina, eyes wide, would nod and giggle with whipped cream smeared on her nose. She might be turning eighteen next year, but she was still his little girl.
So with a plate of smiley face pancakes in his hands, and a vision of a young Irina in his mind, Ilya had opened the door to her room only to find Noah Pike asleep in his seventeen year old daughter’s bed. They were under the covers and the youngest Pike child had an arm draped across Irina’s waist. The plate of food Ilya was carrying clattered to the floor, which woke up the teenagers, who quickly spotted Ilya standing in the door with a look that was strictly reserved for his fiercest opponents on the ice. Which must have scared the living daylights out of them, because Ilya had never seen anyone in the Pike family move so fast.
Ilya had taken a breath, whispered “Get out,” between gritted teeth, and watched as Noah Pike scrambled out of his daughter’s bed and out of her room through the window, descending the large tree in the front yard only wearing his sweatpants.
Ilya learned, after Irina had hopped out of bed to throw Noah his car keys, that the youngest Pike son was shirtless because Irina was wearing his t-shirt. A Montreal Voyageurs shirt, as if the situation couldn’t get any worse. Ilya’s perfect morning had turned into a nightmare.
“Irina Rose Hollander-Rozanov. You have two minutes to be downstairs. In pants,” he said, and turned on his heel to walk downstairs.
Irina followed him right away, still wearing Noah’s shirt. She was bold, his daughter. He would give her that.
“You’re impossible!” Irina yelled in Russian, flopping onto a stool in the kitchen.
“What’s all the yelling about? Everyone okay?” Shane said, running upstairs with Mei on his hip.
Shane had been doing toddler yoga with Mei, and Ilya noticed that his husband and his youngest daughter had their hair in matching messy buns. Shane had gotten so good at doing their daughter’s hair. And his own. Strands of Shane’s hair had fallen out of his bun and were framing his face, dusting his perfect, adorable freckles.
Seeing his perfect husband and his perfect freckles only made Ilya more irritated, because the situation with Irina was too dire for him to enjoy it. He would blame Hayden Pike for that, too.
“You cannot date that boy,” Ilya said, continuing their argument in Russian. Irina and Mei had grown up speaking both languages, something Shane had always encouraged. He wanted Ilya’s children to speak the language he grew up speaking, and Ilya loved him for it.
“You’re being a tyrant.”
“A tyrant, wow. This is a very fancy Russian word, Irina. I am impressed. But still, you cannot date Noah Pike.”
“You’re actually going to ban me from seeing him? Did I wake up in the 1950s?”
“No, you woke up on a perfect Saturday with a boy in your bed! And now it is a bad Saturday!”
“I’m sorry, he had a bad day at hockey and he wanted to talk and we just fell asleep…”
“He fell asleep without his clothes on?”
“Dad, I’m seventeen years old!"
“Yes! You are only seventeen years old!”
“All of my friends are dating!”
“That is not possible.”
“It is.”
“Okay, fine, then date. But date a nice boy. Or girl. I do not care. The Pike boy is not nice.”
“What are you even talking about? You love the Pike kids! They're like family to us!"
"Nice boys do not crawl out the window!"
"You were being scary and weird! And he is a nice boy. A nice boy who asked me to be his girlfriend. And I said yes!”
Ilya's mouth dropped open.
“I can’t keep up when you’re both talking this fast,” Shane said, rubbing his head. His Russian had become excellent in the years they’d been married, but when Irina and Ilya got into it, it was still hard for him to translate.
“Irina woke up with Noah Pike in her bed,” Ilya said at the same time that Irina said:
“Dad is being a close minded, puritanical dictator.”
“Irina Rose Hollander-Rozanov, you had a boy in your room? This morning?”
“Oh my god, dad, I’m seventeen,” Irina said, rolling her eyes.
“We have rules about this,” Shane said. Ilya looked at Irina, as if to say, See? He’s on my side.
“He was here all night?” Shane asked quietly.
Irina froze, staring at the kitchen counter.
“Irina, are you having…” Shane didn’t even have time to ask the question before Ilya erupted.
“You are having sex with Hayden Pike’s son?”
“Daddy, what’s sex?” Mei said, everyone turning to look at the little girl who stood by Shane’s hip, tugging at the hem of his shirt.
“Okay, we’re taking a time out. All of us,” he said, giving Irina and Ilya a look that they both knew all too well. “Mei, honey, how about we watch some Bluey?” He said, and led her out of the room, still keeping an eye on his husband and his eldest daughter.
As soon as Shane was gone, Irina emitted an enormous sigh and slammed the kitchen stool into the counter.
Ilya sighed as well, rubbing his temples and staring at the kitchen countertop. That was, maybe, not his very best parenting. Ilya groaned and made himself another cup of coffee. He had a feeling it would be a long day.
Ilya was on the Peloton in their home gym biking at a punishing speed. He had cranked the resistance up so high his thighs ached, and he wasn’t keeping track of how long he had been pedaling. Angry Russian rap music flooded his headphones and he kept pedaling and pedaling even though his body begged him to stop; he would do anything to get the image of Noah Pike wrapped around his daughter out of his mind.
He was biking so intensely, so engrossed in the music, that he didn’t notice Shane walk into the gym and take a seat on the bench next to Ilya’s phone. Shane turned off the music and Ilya looked up from the spot on the floor that he had been staring a hole into for the past half an hour.
“Ilya,” Shane said gently. Ilya looked at him and stepped off the bike, but his legs felt like jelly, so he didn’t make it very far. He sprawled out on the floor next to the bike, extending his legs and arms like a starfish. He tried very hard to take deep, calming breaths, and he felt the back of his sweat-soaked shirt stick to the padded gym floor.
“I am a bad dad,” Ilya said.
Shane shook his head and sat next to Ilya on the floor, picking up Ilya’s head and placing it in his lap. Ilya was dripping with sweat, and he knew that Shane would think it was gross, but he held him anyway. Shane loved him that much. This small gesture somehow made him feel infinitely better than he had felt just moments before.
“You’re a great dad,” Shane said, brushing Ilya’s sweaty curls out of his eyes. “The best.”
“But I was bad this morning. She called me a tyrant. And a dictator,” he said. “And you are the best.”
“This isn’t a competition, remember? We’re a team. And we’re in uncharted territory here,” Shane said. “I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d found them. Take it easy on yourself.”
“I don’t want to be like my father.”
“You’re not,” Shane said. “You could never be. You are loving, and gentle, and protective. She was just upset. And embarrassed. You know how much we all love you.”
Ilya sighed, pressing his cheek into Shane’s palm.
“Obviously we need to talk about rules,” Shanne continued. “She can’t have a boy in her bed overnight behind our backs.”
“She cannot do it in front of our backs either.”
“I know, I know,” Shane said. “But she’s a teenager now. She’s turning eighteen in the fall. Do you remember what we were doing when we were eighteen?”
Ilya shivered.
“Moy lyubovnik, you are not making me feel better.”
Shane laughed.
“I don’t think we were so bad.”
“No, no, not bad. We were not bad. But Irina… she is our baby girl.”
“I know,” Shane said. “She is and she’s not. She’s growing up. She’s going to want to… be in a relationship. Have sex.” Ilya groaned. “Ilya…”
“I know, I know,” he said.
He paused for a moment, closing his eyes as Shane ran his fingers through his hair. Ilya thought about his own sexual experiences in his teens. Isolated and alone in Russia, and later in America after moving to a strange country by himself, where he felt like he could barely communicate, he had looked for any sort of connection. Even if it didn’t feel good, or he wasn’t ready. It didn’t matter. Anything was better than being alone.
“I just want her to be safe,” Ilya said quietly. “No one can hurt her. Ever.”
“Of course,” Shane said. “But if she feels like she needs to sneak around, or that she can’t trust us, how are we supposed to keep her safe?”
Ilya nodded. He understood what Shane was saying. But it was still giving him a headache.
“This is nightmare,” Ilya said, rubbing his forehead.
“This is parenting,” Shane said. Ilya grumbled again.
“Yes, fine. Is parenting. She is teenager. She wants to have sex. This is fine. But not with Noah Pike. What do you think Hayden is teaching him?”
“Hayden is a great dad,” Shane said. “And he’s always been very respectful of women. I’m sure that’s what he’s teaching his sons.”
“Didn’t he meet Jackie in a club and stick his tongue down her throat?”
“She was a consenting adult!” Shane said.
“I do not trust him.”
“Ilya, you love the Pike kids.”
"You did not see them in bed this morning. I cannot erase from my mind," he said, shaking his head as if he was an etch a sketch. It did not work.
“I will talk to Hayden about it,” Shane said. Ilya raised his eyebrows. “And Jackie.”
Shane sighed. He couldn’t wait to get a beer with the Pikes and talk to them about how they were teaching their kids about consent. Maybe they’d need a few beers.
“Is not enough. He is not right for her. He jumped out the window.”
“Ilya, who she dates isn't up to us,” Shane said. “I talked to her this morning and she really likes him. They’re not having sex yet. But they might. And I want her to know that she can trust us if she makes that decision. I don’t want her to have to sneak around,” he said, a heaviness to his voice. “She should be able to tell her parents about the person she wants to be with.”
“Sweetheart, are you thinking about us?”
“No,” Shane said, shaking his head. “Well, honestly? It's hard not to. I know we had to, and I know why everything happened the way it did, and I love that I’ve been falling in love with you since we were teenagers. You know this. We had each other, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. But I wish I could’ve had someone else to talk to, sometimes. Especially when I was younger. It was lonely. Sometimes.”
Ilya nodded.
“It was,” he said, and sighed. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“He is who she wants.”
Shane smiled, leaning down and pressing his lips to Ilya’s. Shane’s hand snaked behind his head and pulled the curls at the root of his scalp. Ilya moaned into his mouth and Shane tugged at his hair again.
“When did you put Mei down to nap?” Ilya asked, sitting up and planting his hands on the floor on either side of Shane.
“30 minutes ago,” Shane said, as Ilya trailed kisses down his neck.
“Where is Irina?”
“At Hayden’s,” Shane said. “She wanted to see if Noah was okay. After the whole window debacle.”
“Ugh. I am not in the mood anymore,” Ilya said, rolling off of Shane and back onto his position splayed out on the floor.
“Ilya…”
“I am kidding,” Ilya said, pulling Shane on top of him.
Ilya was not really kidding. But he had at least thirty minutes with his husband. Maybe an hour if they were lucky. And he was always going to take as much uninterrupted time with Shane as he could get.
As for Irina and Noah? Ilya knew that Noah Pike was a phase. Just a phase.
Noah Pike was not a phase.
“Who bought you this?” Ilya said.
“Rose took her dress shopping,” Shane said, pulling a plastic box out of the fridge and handing it to Irina. “Remember? Last week? Sweetheart, you look beautiful.”
Shane dropped a kiss onto his eldest daughter’s forehead and walked past Ilya, who was leaning on the doorframe and watching his daughter put on lipstick at the kitchen stool.
Irina was wearing a navy blue dress that brought out the blue in her eyes. Rose had taken her shopping and bought her a very fancy, much too expensive dress for her formal, from some designer that dressed Rose for premieres. Ilya knew that his children would not have ordinary lives, being the children of two star hockey players. But he was happy that they were happy, even if they had things he could’ve never dreamed about as a child. Like a movie star godmother.
The gown was actually very elegant and age appropriate, he supposed, but the straps were barely the width of Mei’s index finger. Irina would be cold. It was impractical.
"Maybe you wear sweater?" Ilya suggested.
"Dad," Irina sighed.
“Be supportive,” Shane whispered, swatting Ilya's bum on his way out of the kitchen.
"What? It is cold."
"It's beautiful outside," Irina said, still focusing on her makeup.
“Okay, okay," Ilya said. "Dochen'ka, you look very beautiful. Like your grandmother.”
“You think so?”
“Of course. You are the most beautiful girl who has ever lived. You and your sister, of course.”
“Thanks dad,” she said, smiling.
“This is for you,” he said, pulling a short strand of pearls out of his pocket. “Was your grandmothers. It is yours now.”
“Thank you,” she said, giving him a hug. She was wearing perfume. When did she start wearing perfume? She was growing up so fast. Years in days, it felt like. His eyes watered.
“Will you help me put this on?”
“Of course,” he said, and his eyes got glassier.
“Dad, are you crying?”
“No, no, I am Russian.”
“We do not do this,” they said in unison. He laughed and accepted the tissue she offered him. He dabbed at his eyes.
“What’s going on in here?” Shane said, leaning on the doorframe.
“Dad’s just being a big softie,” Irina said, practically skipping out of the room to go meet her friends. Ilya heard chattering out in the hallway.
“Likely thing for him to do,” Shane said, giving Ilya’s hand a squeeze. “It’s just her twelfth year formal Ilya. It’s not her wedding.”
“Do not joke,” Ilya said, his life flashing before his eyes. “I do not know how you are so casual. My heart. It is bursting.”
“I know,” Shane said, wrapping his arms around Ilya’s waist and tucking his head into the crook of his neck. “Our big softie.”
“Whoops, sorry guys,” Hayden Pike said from the entryway to the kitchen.
"Ugh, of course is you," Ilya said. Shane swatted his shoulder.
“You’re fine,” Shane said, disentangling himself from his weepy husband. Ilya grumbled, blotting his eyes one final time with the tissue and tossing it in the garbage.
“Just wanted to let you know Jackie is taking pictures out front,” Hayden said, and Ilya bolted out the door.
“He doesn’t want to miss it,” Shane said. “Got a special camera and everything.”
Shane and Hayden followed Ilya outside, and saw him nestled with the group of moms (and Shane's parents) taking photos of Irina, her friends, and their dates. Shane watched as Noah fumbled with Irina’s corsage, and he also watched Ilya watching them like a hawk. After months of dating, Ilya was still not thrilled about his daughter's relationship. But he was keeping himself composed, for the most part. The only other incident they’d had, after the tree window incident, of course, was when Irina asked them about taking her friends to the cottage after the dance.
“Everyone does it,” Irina said, after Ilya had given her a firm no at the dinner table a few weeks ago. “You really want my friends and I to be the only people who are stuck at home after the dance?”
“In Russia we did not even have dance,” Ilya said, shuffling food around on his plate. “We shook hands with our teachers and left forever.”
“We’re not in Russia, dad,” Irina said, rolling her eyes.
“And you should be grateful,” Ilya said, switching to Russian. “That you are here in Canada with your fathers and sister who love you and let you do everything you want.”
“I am grateful. You’re changing the subject.”
“You cannot go to the cottage and have sex!”
“Ew, dad! That’s not why I want to go!”
“What did he say?” Shane said. They were talking a mile a minute again and he was hoping he had misheard. Because he swore he heard Ilya say something about a sex cottage.
“Dad thinks that the only reason I’m dating Noah is to have sex. Well guess what dad? I like him! I really, really like him. And we already had sex!” she said, standing up and dropping her fork onto her plate. “And I want to go to the cottage with my friends because we’re all graduating and I want to have fun! Why are you so strict all the time now?”
“Irina, you will sit down right now,” Ilya said, in Russian, and Shane could understand him perfectly.
“Ilya,” Shane warned.
“No, I will not,” she said, and stormed out of the room. Which is when Shane realized that Mei had stuck peas up her nose.
“You,” Shane said, looking at Ilya. “Pea extraction. I’ll go talk to her.”
Ilya looked sheepishly at his plate, and then gathered up his youngest in his arms.
“Zajushka, what did we say about food in the nose?” he said, and carried her into the bathroom as Shane made his way upstairs.
Shane knew that his daughter was having sex. They had talked about it, and he’d taken her to the doctor to talk about birth control options, and he thought he was managing this new milestone in Irina’s life fairly well. Just because Ilya was stuck up on some stupid grudge he had about Hayden Pike didn’t mean that Shane was going to let Irina face being in her first serious relationship alone. And Noah Pike was a nice kid. The youngest of the Pike children, he was polite and thoughtful and had great role models in his older siblings.
Shane felt bad about not talking to Ilya about it, but it was Irina’s choice. And he wanted to respect that. He would talk to Ilya eventually. It was all so new, anyways. Irina had Rose and his mother to talk to, but Shane didn’t want Irina to feel like she couldn’t talk to her dads just because they were dads. He had made a point of that throughout her entire life.
He had learned how to do her hair, and read books about periods, and taken her shopping for her first training bra without making a fuss about it. Dads could do those things, too. He had always done them for Irina, and this was no different. Shane didn’t believe that every family needed a mother and a father, but he had always known that he would need to learn more about girls if he was going to raise one. And now he was raising two. He thought he had done a pretty good job, but like he had said before: they were in uncharted territory.
After everything had settled down, they had come to a compromise: the kids could go to the cottage for the weekend as long as they called every night and stayed out of the water. After talking to other parents, it seemed like it was what kids did (Shane didn’t really have a typical secondary school experience either, so he was still learning), and he didn’t want to deprive Irina of a normal teenage life. Ilya had come around as well. He was hard on the outside, but soft as putty on the inside when it came to his girls.
Before sending Irina off to the formal Ilya insisted that they get a picture as a family, giving Yuna his camera and gathering Mei into his arms. Rose had, of course, bought her a matching blue dress with a frilly tutu, and Shane had bought her a special corsage when he went to pick up Noah’s boutonniere. Mei had run around like the belle of the ball all afternoon, and all of Irina’s friends adored her. Shane had wondered what it would be like having another child fifteen years after their first, but seeing the girls together eased all of his worries. They adored each other.
Ilya had retired a few years before Shane after another injury to his ribs, and because he wanted to be home more to raise Irina, and Shane had followed five years later. They had expanded Game Changers into a year long hockey school, and Shane hoped that they were creating a better, more inclusive culture in hockey with their students.
Over ten years after his retirement, Shane couldn’t believe the life they had created together. When he was in his twenties, he would’ve never thought this was even possible for them. He felt himself tear up as his mother took pictures of the four of them together.
“Dad, are you crying too?” Irina said.
“I’m sorry,” Shane said, wiping his eyes. “I just love you all so much.”
“We love you too daddy,” Mei said, kissing his nose.
“Yes we do,” Ilya said, wiping a tear off of Shane’s cheek. He couldn’t wait to see the pictures. The mantle was overflowing, but he would make room.
“Can you take a picture with my phone? I want to thank Rose for the dress,” Irina said, handing her phone to Shane.
“Noah?” She said, pulling Noah into the picture with her. Ilya scowled. Irina put her hand on his chest and Shane gently kicked Ilya's shin with his foot.
“You guys look great,” Shane said.
“Thanks dad,” Irina said, taking her phone back and looking through the photos. “Rose is going to love these.”
“Okay, I packed some extra snacks in the car,” Shane said, “and I’m serious: no water. I don’t care how fun someone’s idiot date thinks the jet skis look, it’s not safe.”
“I know,” Irina said. “We promise.”
“Yes Mr. Hollander,” Noah said in agreement.
“You know you can call me Uncle Shane," he said, chewing on his lip. Ilya could tell he was anxious. "Don’t drive out there too late.”
“And have fun,” Ilya said, putting his hand on the small of Shane’s back. He felt Shane relax.
“Yes. Have fun,” Shane said. “Irina, I left the keys inside. Come with me?”
Irina followed Shane into the house and Ilya stood next to Noah, towering over him.
“You will take good care of my daughter?”
“Of course, Uncle Ilya. I mean, Mr. Rozanov. Mr. Hollander-Rozanov. Sir.”
“Good,” Ilya said, bending his head down and speaking softly. “Because if you do not, I have friends in Russia. If Irina is even a little bit unhappy, I will give these friends a phone call. They are friends, but they are not nice. Do you understand what I am saying?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
When Irina and Shane came back out of the house, Noah was as white as a sheet. Ilya kissed Irina on the forehead and Shane gave both her and Noah a hug. They watched, hand in hand, as the kids pulled out of the driveway.
“What did you say to him?” Shane asked.
“Oh, just normal stuff. Be safe. Have fun.”
“Sure,” Shane said.
“I did not say anything about my scary Russian friends.”
“Ilya,” Shane sighed.
“What? It is joke.”
“Alright, funny guy,” Shane said, poking Ilya in the side. “At some point you’re going to have to stop scaring the living daylights out of our daughter’s boyfriend.”
“Mm,” Ilya said, shutting the door behind them and crowding Shane against the closed door. “But it is just so fun.”
“You know what else is fun?”
“Tell me, Hollander,” Ilya whispered, his breath hot against the skin of Shane’s ear.
“What do you hear?” Shane asked.
“Nothing.”
“Exactly. We have the house to ourselves. For the whole weekend.” Yuna had taken Mei home with her after pictures. The kids loved spending weekends with their grandparents. Ilya and Shane loved it, too.
“Where do you want me?” Ilya growled. “The kitchen table? The couch?”
And Shane swore he muttered bedroom, but somehow they only made it halfway up the stairs before he found himself thoroughly spent, their clothes strewn across the entryway and hung across the banister.
“The stairs,” Shane said, resting his head against Ilya’s thigh. “Who knew?”
“It is good angle,” Ilya said. Shane yawned and Ilya laughed. “I thought we were having big sex weekend. You are tired after one go of it?”
“I just need some rest,” Shane said, “and then we can go again.” Ilya kissed his forehead.
“Okay,” Ilya said gently, chuckling under his breath. “Dad is tired, yes?”
“Mm,” Shane sighed.
“Me too.”
They made their way upstairs, and despite Shane’s lofty promises, they slept curled up against each other all night. And it was perfect.