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Shane settled onto his couch with a heavy sigh, settling in for a quiet evening recovering from a long, grueling game. He pulled out his phone to check his messages. He and Ilya had already spent the morning before the game together and had agreed to let Ilya have the evening with his teammates. There were three days before Boston’s next game and Shane had a stretch of home games, so Ilya had already decided he’d stay behind and fly himself out to catch the Raider’s next game in New York.
Nothing new since their text exchange a couple of hours ago, which he took a moment to reread with a smile.
Lily: I will miss you, my love. Stupid Marlow misses me and insists we must have bonding time. I think he is jealous of our love.
Jane: I miss you too. But we saw each other earlier today. We’ll have the next few days together. Have fun with Marlow.
Shane opened up Instagram and started scrolling, catching clips of the game they had played earlier. He couldn’t help but smile as everyone gushed over Ilya’s trick shot that pulled Boston into the lead. It really was a gorgeous play. He’d have to control his heart eyes when he had to sit down to do tape review with the team later.
His phone buzzed in his hands as a text notification flashed across his screen.
Lily: Hi Jane, this is Cliff Marlow. Are you around? Ilya’s having a rough night and is asking for you.
Shane sat up straight, his heart suddenly pounding. Shit.
Jane: What’s going on? Is he hurt?
Shane’s leg started bouncing nervously as he waited for a long minute for the floating “...” bubble to ping with Marlow’s response.
Lily: Not hurt. But he’s crying and speaking in Russian, and I don’t really know what to do.
Shane got up and started pacing. If he showed up, Marlow would find out about them. A part of him was tempted to just leave Marlow to figure it out. But he couldn’t leave Ilya if he was in distress and asking for him.
Jane: I can call and talk to him on the phone. Just don’t listen in, please.
Shane nearly dropped the phone when it started ringing. With his heart in his throat, he answered the phone but didn’t say anything.
“Um, hey, it’s Marlow. Um, I’m going to hand the phone over. Hey, Roz, Jane’s on the phone and wants to talk to you.”
Shane could hear a muffled, “Jane?” It sounded equal parts confused and hopeful.
“Yeah, Jane.” Shane could hear Marlow’s distant voice reassuring Ilya. “Here, take the phone. I need you to hold it up to your ear, can you do that? Yes, this is your hand. No, I… fuck, okay, I’ll just hold it to your face and you can talk to Jane, okay?”
Shane was very confused at what was going on as he listened to their conversation, and there was a lot of rustling sounds as they tried to figure out getting the phone to Ilya.
“Hello?” Ilya’s voice came through finally. It sounded confused, and like he had been crying.
“Ilya?” Shane asked. “Are you doing okay? What’s going on?”
“-ane!” Ilya cooed and started crying. “I need you.”
“Are you hurt?” Shane asked.
“I think I am dead,” Ilya said, sounding sad about that.
“What!? Do you need to go to the hospital?” Shane cried out.
“Ilya, you aren’t dead, I keep telling you this,” Shane heard Marlow reassure Ilya on the other line of the phone. “You just took too many weed gummies and you’re having a bad trip.”
Shane calmed down hearing this.
“Ilya, you’re okay,” Shane tried to help reassure his boyfriend. “You’re apparently very high and very much alive. You’re going to be okay. Marlow can take care of you.”
“Mmm, no,” Ilya protested. “You will take care of me. I need moy Shenya.”
Shane pinched the bridge of his nose, torn.The pull to suddenly drop everything to go take care of Ilya was strong. So was the constant need for secrecy.
“Ilya, if I come there, Marlow will figure us out.”
“Do not care,” Ilya said. “I need you.”
“Is he… will he be good about it? If I show up?”
“Mmm, yes, Marlow is good man. He will be good to you. Right Marlow?”
“Aww, thanks man,” Shane heard Marlow gush on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, I’ll be good. I can’t wait to meet Jane. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior, Jane!” This last line was spoken louder, presumably for Shane’s benefit.
Shane sighed. “Are you sure, Ilya?”
Ilya gave a pathetic whine. “Pleeeease. I need you and I can’t find my mama.”
Shane’s eyes watered at that. Fuck, Ilya really needed him. “Okay, I’ll be there.”
“Yay!” Ilya cried out excitedly.
A chuckle sounded. “Is Jane coming?” Marlow asked Ilya.
“Mmm, yes, very sexy Jane is coming!” Ilya slurred.
“That’s great, buddy,” Marlow could be heard saying. Shane heard some rustled as the phone was presumably being pulled away from Ilya.
“Um, it’s Marlow again,” Marlow’s voice more clear now. “I’m sorry for bothering you, but thanks. Um, he’s really high. Sorry, I probably should have led with that earlier. I’m also kind of high, so I forgot.”
Shane was silent in response. He probably should just get this part out of the way, but he was honestly not ready to handle this on the phone.
“Right, well, I guess we’ll see you soon,” Marlow said in response to Shane’s silence. “I’ll text you the room number.”
Marlow hung up, and Shane took a moment to drop his head into his hands. Fuck.
His phone buzzed in his lap.
Lily: We’re at the Marriott. Room 1712.
Shane paced his apartment for a solid two minutes, contemplating texting Marlow back to tell him he couldn’t come after all. But then I thought of Ilya’s broken sounding voice saying he couldn’t find his mama. Fuck, there is no universe in which Shane could not offer Ilya comfort when he was upset. Even if he had to out them to the entire world to do so. Or maybe just a high Marlow.
Fuck.
Shane threw on a non-descript black hoodie and grabbed his sunglasses and baseball cap. It wouldn’t be the first time they had snuck into each other’s hotel room. But this was certainly the first when their room buddies was going to still be there.
Again, and for the record: fuck.
His whole body was trembling with anxiety as he drove to Ilya’s hotel. Once he had parked in the hotel parking lot, he considered one last time chickening out. Please, I need you. Ilya's pleas echoed in his head.
Fuck. Shane got out of the car. One small mercy was that he didn’t run into anyone from Ilya’s team. There was one elderly couple in the elevator. He pulled his cap down low, but they didn’t seem to pay any attention to Shane.
Finally, he spilled out onto floor 17 and found his way to 1712. Heart pounding slightly, he raised his hand and knocked.
“See, I told you Jane was coming, no need to panic,” Shane heard Marlow through the door, assumingly talking to Ilya. “I promise it’s all going to be–”
The door opened. Marlow stopped mid-reassurance as he blinked at Shane, standing awkwardly in the hallway.
“Um, hi,” Shane said awkwardly and fucking waved at Marlow.
“Eto Sheyn?” Ilya could be heard from somewhere deeper in the room. (Is that Shane?)
Marlow closed the door partially to block Ilya from view. “Um, hey, I don’t know what you’re doing here, but, um, now’s not really a good time, Hollander.”
“Hollander?” Ilya asked from the room. “Is here? Where?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of him,” Marlow reassured into the room.
“What? No!” Ilya whined. “Bring him! I need!”
“Um, can I come in?” Shane asked. “I’d kind of like to get out of the hallway before someone sees me here.”
Marlow blinked, glancing back and forth between Shane and Ilya. He shrugged and opened the door to let Shane in.
“Shane!” Ilya cried out in relief when Shane stepped into view.
Ilya was curled up on the floor in front of one of the beds, surrounded by a mess of crumpled clothes. Shane noted that Ilya was hugging one of Shane’s hoodies in his arms.
“Hey,” Shane cooed, closing the distance and crouching in front of Ilya. “I’m here. You’re okay.”
Ilya beamed at him. “I knew it! I am in heaven now! I am in heaven because you are here!” Ilya looked around, looking confused. “I can’t find Mama. Have you seen her?”
His heart squeezed for his boyfriend, whose eyes were rapidly filling with tears. Shane reached out and grabbed Ilya’s hand. “Darling, you aren’t in heaven. You are here on Earth still. You are still alive. You are very high.”
Ilya seemed to consider this for a moment before shaking his head dismissively. “Mmm, no. I need to find Mama.” Ilya got up and started looking around the hotel room. Marlow’s suitcase was ransacked, clothes flying. He darted into the bathroom, opening the shower door and checking behind the towels. He checked behind the curtains and under the bed.
Marlow body blocked him before he got to the door that would have taken him into the hallway. “No, buddy, she’s not out there. We already checked, remember?”
“Mama! Ty gde? YA nigde ne mogu tebya nayti!” Ilya cried out as he searched the hotel room frantically. (Mom! Where are you? I can't find you anywhere!)
Shane rushed to Ilya, placing a hand on each cheek to force Ilya to look at him. He said the first thing he could think of to get Ilya to calm down when he was in this state. “She sent me, Ilya. She couldn’t be here with you today so she sent me to look after you. She told me to tell you that she loves you and misses you.”
Ilya blinked at Shane, tears spilling down his face as a small smile slowly transforming his face out of his previous state of panic. “Da, she sent you, moya lyubov.” (My love).
Ilya flung his arms around Shane, holding tight. Shane hugged Ilya back fiercely. “I’ve got you, Ilya, you’re okay.” Shane swayed Ilya gently from side to side, gently stroking his curls. They stayed like that for a couple minutes until he could feel Ilya finally settle in his arms.
Marlow watched on in confusion. “What is going on? And where the fuck is Jane? Shouldn’t she be here by now?”
Shane pulled back to look at Marlow. Ilya protested against Shane’s withdraw and pulled him back into his embrace. “Mmm, Jane is here. Mama sent him.”
Shane watched Marlow’s face over Ilya’s shoulder. His furrowed eyebrows lifted slowly with dawning realization. “Wait, Jane? Are you Jane?”
Shane pulled back from Ilya, who gave a complaining whine, but he settled when Shane’s hand found his. Ilya smiled as he swung their joined hands between them.
Shane gave Ilya an amused look. “Yeah, I’m Jane.”
Marlow blinked. “But how are you Jane? You are Shane Hollander!”
Shane gave Marlow an amused look now. Right, Marlow was also high. Shane considered for a moment coming up with a lie, but figured Ilya would probably give them away at some point anyway, so he might as well get this fully out of the way. Ilya trusted Marlow. “Jane is a code name.”
Marlow looked at him, still trying to wrap his head around this new information that did not seem to compute to him.
“But I called Jane,” Marlow said.
Shane nodded patiently at Marlow. “Yes, you did. You texted me and called and held up the phone so I could talk to Ilya.”
Marlow nodded. “Oh, so I called you?”
Shane sighed. This was already exhausting. “Yes, Marlow, when you called Jane on Ilya’s phone, you called me. Because I am Jane in Ilya’s phone.”
Marlow tilted his head in consideration as he looked at Shane, then at Ilya, then at them holding hands between them, which Ilya was swinging playfully. “But Jane is Montreal Jane. Ilya’s been crushing on her for years.”
Shane gave an exasperated huff. “Oh my god, Marlow, I am Montreal Jane! Ilya and I have been seeing each other for years! In secret. So you can’t tell anyone.”
Marlow furrowed his brow as if studying them. God, this man was so high. “So you’re like… doing each other?”
Ilya grinned in response. He held up a hand, which Marlow indulged in high-fiving.
Shane ran a hand over his face. “Um, yeah. We’re doing each other.”
Marlow finally seemed to get it. His face broke into a huge grin. “Oh, wow! That’s so cool! I’m like, cool by the way, with gay people.”
Shane nodded awkwardly. “That’s good to know.”
Ilya held up a finger in protest, “I am not gay.”
Marlow raised his eyebrows pointedly at Ilya holding hands with another man.
Ilya looked down at his hand, which was holding Shane’s. “This does not make me gay.” Marlow opened his mouth to argue. “I am bisexual,” Ilya finished with a proud smile.
Marlow nodded along to this information, “Congrats, man.”
Marlow then glanced inquisitively at Shane. Shane gave a heavy sigh and said, “Gay.”
Ilya grinned and turned to Shane. “Mmm, yes, very gay, the most gay! He is super gay!” he grinned at Shane.
Shane shook his head. “Ilya, I’m normal gay.”
Ilya shook his head. “Mmm, no, there is nothing normal about how gay you are for me,” he cooed and pulled Shane in for a kiss. Shane indulged him in a quick peck, laughing silently into Ilya’s lips, but pulled away before Ilya could deepen the kiss. Ilya let out a complaining whine.
Shane pulled back to cast a nervous look at Marlow to see his reaction. Marlow had a huge grin on his face. “Awww, you guys are sooo cute!” he gushed.
Ilya stumbled slightly as he tried to manhandle Shane back into a kiss.
Shane looked back and forth between the two men. “Fuck, you guys are so high. What the fuck did you take? Do I need to be, like, worried about that?”
Marlow pulled out a package of what looked like candy and handed it to him. “I took one. He took three before I could stop him.”
“Oooh, candy!” Ilya exclaimed, reaching for the package.
Shane held the package of gummies out of reach. “You’ve had enough, Ilya.” Ilya whined and kept trying to grab the package from Shane, who was now in a game of keep-away with his boyfriend as he tried to study the package.
“Geeze, the serving size is half a gummy,” Shane exclaimed. “And he had three? Fuck, can you overdose on this shit?”
“Am I dying?” Ilya asked in sudden distress. “I died and now I am dying again, yes?”
“No, Ilya, you aren’t dying,” Shane said, but he did pull out his phone to do some quick googling on if it was possible to overdose on marijuana edibles. According to the top results, it was extremely unlikely. He just had to keep an eye out for chest pains, trouble breathing, or persistent vomiting. He scanned the rest of the results, scrolling on his phone with one hand while playing keep-away with the other to keep Ilya from eating more gummies. He finally shoved the package of gummies in his back pocket for safekeeping until he could find a place to hide it from his child of a boyfriend. “You are alive, and you’re going to be fine.”
“Mmm, Shane,” Ilya said, poking Shane in the shoulder. “Shane. Shane. Shane.” Poke. Poke. Poke.
“Oh my god, what Ilya?” Shane asked, exasperated, turning to look at Ilya.
“Did you bring snacks?” he asked hopefully.
Marlow’s face brightened. “Oh, yeah, did you bring snacks?”
Shane looked back and forth between these two fully grown men who were looking at him with excitement, asking for snacks. “Uh, no, I didn’t bring snacks. I was focused on getting here.”
Ilya blew a raspberry in Shane’s face, sprinkling his face with spit. “Ew gross, Ilya,” Shane protested, wiping his face.
“But I’m hungry,” Ilya whined.
“I’m hungry too!” Marlow chimed in, concerned that he was being forgotten.
“Oh my god, I’ll order you both some room service,” Shane said, exasperated, trying to disentangle himself from Ilya’s grasp. Ilya resisted his efforts, so Shane pulled Ilya along with him by the hand to the hotel phone and room service menu sitting next to it.
“Okay, what do you want?” Shane asked, holding out the menu to Ilya.
Ilya squinted down at the menu, swaying slightly. “These are not words,” Ilya pointed out, handing the menu back to Shane. Shane looked down at the menu, which definitely had words on it, but it was in English, which he suspected might be the issue.
Shane sighed and started reading the menu out loud. “Okay, garden salad?” Ilya blew another raspberry at Shane. “Ew, gross. Okay, new rule: no blowing raspberries.”
“What is blowing raspberry?”
“What you just did,” Shane clarified.
Ilya blinked at him in confusion.
Shane heaved a heavy sigh and blew a raspberry. Ilya’s face lit up. He took a deep inhale, clearly ready to blow another raspberry. Shane threw up a hand. “Okay, that’s the rule, no one is allowed to do that for the rest of the night!”
Ilya’s face dropped. “You are no fun.”
Shane rolled his eyes. “Yes, I am boring.”
Ilya grinned at this. “Mmm, yes, my favorite boring Canadian.” He tugged on Shane’s hand until he captured Shane securely in his arms and Ilya started nuzzling Shane’s neck.
“Do they have french fries?” Marlow asked from his spot across the room.
Shane squirmed out of Ilya’s embrace to look at the menu. “Yes, they have french fries.”
“Oh, I want french fries!” Ilya chimed in. “Oh, and milkshakes! Oh, and cheeseburger!”
Shane scanned the menu. “What kind of milkshake? They have vanilla– don’t you dare!” Shane cut off when he saw Ilya getting ready to blow another raspberry. “Seriously. Okay, no vanilla. They have strawberry, chocolate, and oreo.”
“Yes!” Ilya said.
“Which one?” Shane asked.
“All of them! Not vanilla, vanilla is boring. Oh, no get all of them. You can have boring vanilla.”
“I’m not drinking a milkshake, Ilya,” Shane protested.
“I want oreo!” Marlow requested. “Oh, do they have pizza?”
Shane sighed and glanced down at the menu. “No.”
Marlow deflated dramatically.
Shane scanned the menu for other options. “They have a club sandwich, cheeseburger, steak, spaghetti, grilled cheese, and —”
“Oh, fuck yeah, get me a grilled cheese!” Marlow requested.
Shane sighed and reviewed their order. The two men nodded excitedly at the idea of food.
Shane called in their order, adding a garden salad and ginger ale for himself, shushing Ilya when he chimed in with, “Boring!”
Shane thanked the other person on the phone and hung up. “Okay, food will be here in 40 minutes.”
Ilya let out a dramatic whine. “Noooo! But I’m hungry now! Oh, there is candy somewhere! Marlow, do you have any more of that candy we ate?”
“Nope!” Shane interjected. “The candy is all done. You ate it all.”
“Awww!” Ilya complained.
Marlow flopped onto one of the beds and grabbed the remote. He clicked the remote until he found the sports channel. “Hah! Check it out! Ottawa is beating New York.”
“Mmm, is easy to beat Scott Hunter, he is a million years old,” Ilya chirped, dragging Shane onto the free bed.
“Scott Hunter won a cup last year,” Marlow defended. “Also, he’s like a gay icon, shouldn’t you be like, nicer?”
“Mmm, he is gay icon who is still a million years old,” Ilya shrugged. “Both can be true.”
Marlow scoffed. “Still, I’m surprised Ottawa’s got points on them. Although it’s still early, so I’m sure that… Oh! Yep, there it is. Yeah, Ottawa can’t come back from that. I don’t know who bothers to ever root for them. No offense, Hollander, I know you’re from there.”
“Oh, um, yeah,” Shane said awkwardly, glancing at Ilya, whose face was doing a complicated thing.
“Will no one root for me?” Ilya asked in a pathetic voice.
“What are you talking about?” Marlow asked, tearing his eyes from the screen, picking up on Ilya’s distress. “People love you.”
“Mmm, but they will not root for me on Ottawa,” Ilya said in a sad voice. “I will be sad player on sad team.”
Marlow gave a dismissive laugh. “Dude, you’re not going to Ottawa. That’s not something you have to worry about.”
“I am,” Ilya said in a soft voice.
For a while, Marlow didn’t say anything. Shane wondered if maybe he hadn’t heard it. Then, “What?”
Ilya looked up at Shane, his shiny eyes begging him to take over. Shane sighed and turned to address Marlow. “Ilya’s trading to Ottawa once his contract is up at the end of this season.”
Marlow sat up in bed and turned his whole body to face them. “What!? Why on earth would you do that?”
Ilya started crying and clung to Shane. Shane wrapped his arms around Ilya and gently rocked him. “Shhh, you’re okay.” Shane glanced up at Marlow and told him in a quiet voice, “We want to be closer. We want to build a future together.”
Marlow’s face softened. “Awww, that’s so cute!” he gushed. “Wow, so you, like, love each other?”
Ilya buried his face in Shane’s neck. “Mmmm, yes, very much,” he murmured.
Marlow glanced back at the screen as Ottawa’s goalie let in a pass that should have been an easy block. “Well, I’m sure that the number one player in the NHL can whip that team into decent shape. You’re gonna be fine, Roz. Selfishly, I am heartbroken. I don’t want you to go.”
“Mmm, I do not want to leave team,” Ilya mumbled into Shane’s chest. “But it is hard being so far away.” He squeezed Shane for emphasis.
“Oh, yeah, that makes sense, long distance is tough,” Marlow offered.
Ilya glanced up at the screen, but seemed to find watching Ottawa falling behind to be depressing. He let out a pitiful sound.
“Okay, I think hockey maybe isn’t the right thing to watch right now,” Shane suggested with a nod to Marlow, who had the remote in his hand.
“Right,” Marlow said and dutifully scanned the channels before settling on some cartoons.
The men settled into a relatively comfortable silence. Ilya curled up around Shane so that he could use his chest as a pillow while still being able to watch the cartoons. Eventually, the cartoons did their job, and the two stoned men were laughing when Elmer Fudd fell into yet another trap set by Bugs Bunny.
Shane ran his hands comfortingly through Ilya’s curls, feeling the tension slowly leave his body.
Shane felt Ilya’s head start to jerk and droop as he relaxed on top of Shane. He seemed close to falling asleep.
A knock interrupted their peace. Ilya jerked his head up suddenly, “I wasn’t doing anything!”
Shane chuckled at him.
“I’ll get it!” Marlow said, hopping up to get their food.
“Hey Marlow,” Shane called out from his spot trapped under Ilya. Marlow turned before opening the door. “Don’t let them in.”
Marlow blinked at Shane, then realization dawned on him. “Right, secret gay shit. Got it!” he said in a collaborative, hushed tone.
Marlow opened the door only enough to wedge his large frame in the doorway to greet the room service person and sign the bill. He then waited until the worker walked down the hallway before wheeling in the food cart.
Ilya gave several pointed sniffs of intrigue. “Ooh, I smell french fries!” he announced, excited, lifting his head off Shane’s chest.
“Oof!” Shane let out as Ilya catapulted off of him toward the food cart.
Ilya and Marlow excitedly started lifting metal covers off the various dishes. “Oh my god, why is there a salad?” Marlow asked.
“Mmm, Shane is very boring. Has very boring diet,” Ilya said around the handful of french fries he shoved in his mouth.
“It’s not boring,” Shane protested. “It’s a macrobiotic diet.”
Ilya raised his eyebrows at Marlow, nodding as if that proved his point.
Marlow chuckled and shook his head.
Shane got up to walk over to the two idiots who were standing in the middle of the hotel room, hunched over the food service cart, shoveling french fries into their mouths.
“Oh my god, let’s set this up over here so you can actually sit down,” Shane muttered, dragging the cart over to where there was a coffee table and a small seating area.
Shane’s felt impatient eyes on his back as he set out the food for them.
“Okay, can I eat french fries now?” Ilya asked Shane.
Shane let out a soft laugh. “Yes, you can have your french fries now, Ilya.”
Marlow raised his hand. “Can I eat my french fries now?”
Shane closed his eyes to collect himself. “Yes, Marlow, you can eat your french fries now.”
And they were off. Shane had to avert his eyes from the carnage that was happening to the greasy food in front of them. Shane grabbed a fork and started digging into the salad, doing his best to ignore the tempting scent of french fries that his very hot boyfriend was moaning around.
“Dude, have you ever tried dipping your french fry in a milkshake before?” Marlow asked Ilya, demonstrating on his.
Ilya’s eyes widened. “No!” Ilya quickly dipped a french fry in the chocolate shake. He moaned deeply.
“Mmm, Shane, you have to try this!” Ilya said, dipping a french fry in the shake and holding it out to him.
“No, Ilya, I’m not going to eat that!” Shane protested, trying to shove Ilya’s hand away. Ice cream dripped onto Shane’s pants.
Ilya popped the french fry into his mouth. Then, to Shane’s utter horror, he dropped down to lick the ice cream off of Shane’s pants. “Dude, Ilya! Stop. Marlow is right here!”
Ilya popped his head up with a huge grin. Marlow shrugged and started digging into his grilled cheese.
“Eat your burger, it’s getting cold,” Shane directed Ilya.
“Oh, cheeseburger!” Ilya exclaimed, his excitement redirected back to his indulgent meal.
Shane rolled his eyes and went back to his salad.
“Ahhh!” Ilya exclaimed suddenly, some time later. He sounded in agony. Shane whipped his head to look at him in concern. Ilya was pressing the palm of his hand to his forehead, empty milkshake glass in one hand. “U menya mozg vzorvotsya ot kholoda!” (My brain is going to explode from the cold.) His hand flailed to the side until Shane grasped his hand and held it tight. “I am dying!”
Shane rubbed the back of Ilya’s hand. “You are not dying, Ilya. It’s a brain freeze. You drank your milkshake too fast. It will pass in a minute.” Shane reached over and grabbed the empty milkshake glass out of Ilya’s hand.
Ilya gave a pathetic whimper. Shane pulled Ilya’s hand up to his lips to deposit a kiss. “You’re okay.”
“Mmm, that was not nice!” Ilya complained once his brain freeze passed, glaring at the collection of milkshakes as if they had betrayed him, which Shane supposed that they had.
“Hey,” Shane said gently, drawing Ilya’s eyes back to him. “You okay?”
Ilya’s smile was slow and genuine. “Da, my head is much better. And you are here.” He leaned over to kiss Shane. Shane made a face at the collection of grease, salt, and sticky milkshake that were covering Ilya’s mouth.
“Ugh, Ilya, you are so messy,” Shane complained, shoving a cloth napkin into Ilya’s hand. Ilya sloppily wiped his face. He was still visibly covered with remnants of his dinner.
“Here,” Shane said, taking the napkin from him. He moistened it with the condensation from one of the untouched milkshakes (strawberry) before grasping Ilya gently by the chin and wiping Ilya’s mouth and cheeks with the focused intensity Shane gave to every task he took on.
Ilya looked at Shane, letting him aggressively wipe his face for him like he was a small child. “Mama sent you,” he whispered, reverent.
Shane’s hand stilled mid-stroke, his eyes snapping up to meet Ilya’s teary ones. Ilya’s hand came up to cover Shane’s hand holding the napkin to his face, caressing Shane’s hand under his fingers.
Shane’s own eyes moistened as Ilya looked at him with the most complex mix of love, adoration, nostalgia, and gratitude. Shane didn’t know what to say, so he just leaned forward to kiss Ilya tenderly. They parted and rested foreheads against each other.
“Damn, you guys are killing me,” Marlow said in a strained voice.
Shane pulled back to glance over to catch Marlow wiping a tear from his eye, apparently very moved from watching their little display.
Shane blushed. “Sorry,” he muttered to Marlow.
Marlow shook his head. “No, fuck man, don’t be sorry. It’s beautiful. What you have with each other… it’s beautiful.”
Shane looked over at Ilya, who gazed back at him lovingly, his heart on full display.
“Da, so beautiful,” Ilya said in a soft voice, reaching out to brush Shane’s cheek.
Shane smiled at Ilya, overcome with the ferocity of how much he loved his man. Shane was overcome with having someone witness their love and like what they saw. He had spent so long fearing the judgement and rejection of others finding out about him and Ilya. He hadn’t considered that anyone besides his parents would ever look at what they were to each other and say it was something beautiful.
“Wow, I can’t believe it’s been you this whole time,” Marlow muttered, shaking his head ruefully. “Roz has been crazy about Montreal Jane for, like, ever. Since, what, rookie season?”
Ilya smiled, not taking his eyes off Shane. “Summer before,” he corrected. Shane smiled back, fondly remembering a similar conversation with his parents.
“Wow,” Marlow breathed. Then, “Wait,” as if something just occurred to him. “Rose Landry.”
Shane watched the sweet, lovey dovey expression fall off Ilya’s face. It crumpled into a deep pout.
Shane sighed and spared an annoyed glance at Marlow. “Rose was a brief but necessary interlude for me to confirm that I was, in fact, gay.”
“What is interlude?” Ilya asked, his forehead scrunched in adorable confusion.
“Interuption,” Shane offered. “Or Break.”
Ilya nodded, then turned to offer to Marlow, “Apparently my dick was not enough to convince Shane he was gay. He had to go fuck famous actress to decide he does not like pussy.”
Shane shoved Ilya. “Shut up, Ilya.” Then he sighed and spared Marlow an embarrassed glance. “But yeah.”
Marlow threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, man, you trying to go straight was the worst few months of my life. This one was an absolute nightmare. I’m talking bag skates every practice. Don’t ever do that again!”
Shane laughed. “Once was enough for me.”
Ilya wrapped his arms around Shane in a possessive hug. “No more running away.”
Shane placed a reassuring kiss on Ilya’s curls. “No more running away. I’m not going anywhere, moy lyubov. You’re stuck with me now.”
Ilya squeezed Shane tight in response and swayed them from side to side happily.
“Damn, you two are seriously the cutest,” Marlow cooed. “I wish everyone could see this.”
Shane pulled back slightly to look at Marlow seriously. “You can’t tell anyone, you understand that right, Marlow? We will tell people eventually, but it’s not safe yet. Not for Ilya.” At Marlow’s confused look, Shane clarified. “Because of Russia. Until Ilya has a Canadian passport, we can’t come out.”
Ilya’s body went rigid in his arms. His head shot up and looked around wildly. “Russia? Are they here? No, Shane, you have to go.” He started pushing Shane away in sudden panic.
Shane cursed himself for bringing up Russia while Ilya was high. He reached out and cupped Ilya’s face gently in his palms, forcing Ilya to look into his eyes. “Hey, hey, you’re okay. Russia is not here. You are in Canada, safe with me. It’s just me and Marlow, and Marlow isn’t going to tell anyone, right Marlow?” He gave Marlow a pointed look.
“Right!” Marlow jumped in, eager to offer his reassurances to a panicked Ilya. “I’m not going to tell anyone! Your secret’s safe with me.”
“Russia is not here?” Ilya asked nervously.
Shane shook his head. “No, Russia is not here.”
Ilya looked around at the non-descript hotel room. “You sure? Maybe this is Russia?”
Shane glanced over at the window and caught a sliver of the city lights shining through a gap in the curtains. “Come,” he said, holding out his hand to Ilya, who took it, confused. Shane led Ilya by the hand to the window and opened the curtains.
Ilya gasped and darted out of the way of the window. “They will see!”
Shane followed him into the dark corner. “Ilya, honey, do you trust me?”
Ilya looked earnestly at Shane and nodded.
“Then come look out the window with me.” He held out his hand again and after a moment’s hesitation, Ilya let Shane guide him back toward the window. “See that building right there?” he pointed and allowed Ilya to follow his finger. “That’s Tour des Canadiens. See that shorter building next to it? That’s the Bell Centre where we played against each other earlier today. You scored a hat trick, it was very sexy. And over there, between those two skyscrapers, that’s where my place is, where we spent the morning together and you made fun of my smoothie while you ate french toast.”
Ilya gazed out the window at the glowing cityscape. “Oh, is in Montreal?”
“Yes, you are in Montreal,” Shane said, offering a reassuring hand on Ilya’s back.
“Is pretty,” Ilya said, looking at the skyline.
“It is, isn’t it?” Shane said encouragingly.
“Wow! Look at that!” Marlow gushed, coming to join them at the window, looking at the cityscape. “What’s that building?” he asked, pointing.
Shane started naming each tall building Marlow quizzed him on.
Ilya sat down on the hotel floor, content to stare out the window at the pretty lights.
Shane petted Ilya’s head fondly. “Why don’t you two look at the pretty lights for a bit while I put away our food.”
Ilya nodded vaguely in response, but stared unblinkingly out at the view. Shane chuckled to himself as he went to go clean up their dishes, stacking them on the food service cart and after listening carefully at the door, rolled the cart out into the hallway so they didn’t have to deal with the pungent smell of sitting food.
While the two men were occupied, Shane took the opportunity to hide the weed gummies he had been sitting on for the last hour. He felt like the initial danger of Ilya snacking on them had passed now that he’d eaten, but he couldn’t be too careful.
Shane returned to find the two men enthralled in Montreal’s cityscape at night. Every once in a while, one would point out a building or twinkling light to each other. Most exciting was when a plane flew over with its blinking lights. Shane smiled fondly down at the sight and pulled over a chair for Marlow. He plopped himself down on the floor behind Ilya, scooting him back a foot so that Shane could lean against the bed while Ilya leaned against Shane’s chest. Shane wrapped his arms around Ilya’s chest from behind, resting his chin on Ilya’s shoulder, taking in the skyline with him.
They stayed like that for nearly an hour before Marlow gave a big yawn. “Alright, I think I’m gonna head to bed.”
Marlow got up from his chair and gave Ilya’s hair an affectionate ruffle as he passed. “I’m assuming you’re staying?” he asked Shane.
“If it’s alright with you,” Shane said.
“Fuck, please stay. You’re doing a way better job keeping him calm than me,” Marlow said as he rounded the bed to his side. “Fuck, Roz,” Marlow muttered as he gathered his scattered belongings from Ilya’s earlier freak out when he was looking for his mother and Marlow’s suitcase took a hit.
“Hmmm?” Ilya hummed, hearing his name.
“Shh, it’s nothing,” Shane reassured, squeezing Ilya in his arms and kissing his shoulder soothingly.
Ilya hummed contentedly and settled back into Shane’s arms.
“Thank you,” Ilya said after a while, while Marlow was in the bathroom.
“For?” Shane asked, pausing in his absent minded stroking of Ilya’s arms.
“For coming,” Ilya said. “For dealing with all this. With me. With Marlow.”
Shane reached up to turn Ilya’s face so he could see him better. “I’ll always come if you need me. No matter what.”
Ilya’s eyes filled with sudden tears, and his bottom lip trembled. Ilya turned in Shane’s arms to bury his head in Shane’s chest. “Ya tak sil'no tebya lyublyu.” (I love you so much).
Shane squeezed Ilya and rocked him as he cried into his chest. “I love you too. So much.”
Shane held Ilya in his arms, rubbing soothing circles on his back as they heard the soft sounds of Marlow exiting the bathroom and climbing into bed. “You doing okay over there, Roz?” Marlow asked from his spot across the room.
“Very good,” Ilya said, his voice slightly muffled by Shane’s chest. “Am very loved.”
Marlow gave a soft chuckle. “Yeah, you are. I’m happy for you, bud.”
Shane gave a soft kiss to Ilya’s curls. “Why don’t we get you ready for bed,” he suggested, nudging Ilya out of his lap. Shane went and gathered Ilya’s scattered possessions, finding a sleep shirt and pajama bottoms for each of them and pulling out Ilya’s toiletry bag. He handed Ilya his toiletry bag and pajamas. “Here, go brush your teeth and get changed. I’ll deal with this.” Ilya shuffled his way into the bathroom while Shane repacked Ilya’s suitcase for him, carefully folding the rumpled clothes.
When Ilya emerged, Shane gave him a soft kiss and pulled back the covers for him. “In you go.” Shane then took his turn getting ready for bed, using Ilya’s toothbrush to brush his teeth and changing into his clothes to sleep in.
Once Shane was done, he went around turning off all the lights in the hotel room and climbing into bed with Ilya.
“Good night, Roz. Good night, Hollander,” Marlow said sleepily from his bed.
“Good night, Marlow,” Shane said with an amused smile. He could never have predicted that his night would end with saying goodnight to Cliff Marlow while he cuddled Ilya in his arms in the next bed over.
“Mmm, night, Marlow,” Ilya murmured. “Thank you for bringing my Jane.”
Marlow chuckled. “Anytime, bud.”
And then, slowly, one by one, they all fell asleep.