Chapter Text
Consciousness comes hours later as he feels a presence in the room. It's his mom, for sure.
She fusses with something at the bottom of the bed and tells presumably his father to be quiet while she's focusing.
He doesn't open his eyes but he can sense her presence by his feet. He can also feel the warmth radiating from the body wrapped around him. The hulking wall of muscle that is Ilya Rozanov was pasted to his body. And, considering the thin layer of sweat on his upper lip, he had spent a good few hours there.
It takes a moment for his brain to sort it out. To separate the rhythm of the machines from the rhythm of the breathing beside him—the steady inhale-exhale that's brushing against his cheek. His eyes stay closed still. He lets himself float there, suspended between sleep and waking, anchored by the weight of Ilya’s arm draped carefully across his ribs.
This could be heaven. He could actually be dead. He'd be happy spending an eternity right here.
They had fallen asleep like this hours ago. He remembers calling Ilya into the bed, remembers the way he’d folded himself into Ilya arms, and let himself be held in reverence. He’d looked into Shane's eyes as though holding him was something ethereal—something holy. Shane had been exhausted and while Last night that exhaustion felt bone-deep and medication heavy—after a night in Ilya arms he was better charged and calmer than he’d been in years.
He shifts slightly, testing his body. His chest protests immediately, a sharp reminder of the impact of the collision and the chest compressions. He stills, breath shallow, waiting for the pain to recede.
Ilya murmurs something in Russian and tightens his hold unconsciously, forehead nudging closer to Shane’s temple. Shane smiles despite himself.
He hears a giggle from his mother and a scoff from his father and cracks an eye to see Yuna leaning over the foot of the bed, phone in hand, snapping pictures of the two of them stuck together.
She smiles wider when she sees his open eyes, “Good morning, baby”.
He grunts in response but can't help the smile that fills his face when he sees how happy she is.
“Smile for the camera.” She sings.
She's a helicopter mom in every other capacity of his life and career, so he's not surprised she's now starting on his relationship. But... Shane's okay with that.
After years of imagining Ilya and his mom meeting, he's glad it's happened, and he's glad she's okay with it. If anything he's a bit put off by how out of character she's being in regards to Ilya. Where was the shovel talk? Where's the insult for his choice of men? He thought she hated Ilya.
In actuality, she lost any negative feelings she had for Ilya Rozanov the second she saw the look of heartbreak he had on that ice. She was made anew. She couldn't look at Ilya now and find a single mean thing to say about him. He loved her son, and he was there for Shane all these years. She'd spent so many years worrying he was lonely, and knowing that Shane had someone that loved him as much as she loved her son meant everything for her.
Her son was a man most worthy of having someone truly deeply in love with him—She felt lucky that her son had found that. Her and David had talked extensively about it the first night they spent away from the hospital. They had found it unnerving that someone else was there now to take their place as a carer and protector of Shane. They respected Ilya and felt they could trust him.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s okay,” Shane murmurs, voice rough. “You didn’t.”
Ilya stirs beside him, blinking awake slowly. He looks between Shane and Yuna, confusion flickering before understanding dawns. He straightens instinctively, starting to pull away.
“No,” Shane says softly, tightening his grip on Ilya’s sleeve. “Stay.”
Ilya stills, then relaxes again, cheek pressing lightly back into Shane’s shoulder.
Yuna watches the exchange, eyes bright. “You look so happy, Shane,” she says quietly.
“I am,” Shane replies, without hesitation.
She steps closer to the bed, reaching out to smooth his hair back. Her fingers tremble just a little. “Sorry, I was intruding on you both. I was just getting one for the family album,” she admits.
“Send it to me,” Shane says. “We’ve spent the last how many years deleting all our photos. I need to start collecting some”
She blinks. “What?”
“The picture,” he repeats, smiling. “Send it to me.”
“I will, Of course. I'm so sorry, Shane. I wish things could have been different for you.” she replies, reaching for his hands. “Theres so many things you've missed out on”
“Don’t be. I’m happy now.” He squeezes her hand before letting go and tapping Ilya's side. “Wake up. Mom's taking photos of us. We need to pose.”
Ilya opens one eye and groans. He slightly sits up and as Yuna takes the next picture he presses his lips to Shane's cheek.
He chuckles and tilts his head slightly, letting it rest against Ilya’s, who glances up with a sleepy, crooked grin.
It’s perfect.
Yuna looks at the screen, then presses her hand to her mouth.
“You’re both so beautiful,” she says, voice thick. “Ugh, the moms at my book club are going to be so jealous.”
David comes charging in shortly after with a tray of three black coffees and a decaffeinated tea for Shane. He also comes with the news that he'd been talking to Hayden last night and he was planning on visiting with Jackie later in the day. Shane's glad to hear it and gives a swift playful smack to Ilya who groans and whines.
Shane is moved out of the ICU within the hour to a normal room to recover for a day or two more, pending review, before he can leave the hospital altogether.
✶
Hayden arrives with noise. He all but bursts into the room with Jackie strolling in calmly at his hip. Thank goodness he's not brought the kids with him because he makes enough noise himself while he's greeting Shane's parents.
Hayden energy has always been that of a Golden retriever when you return home after hours away. He fills the room in a storm of joy and energy. Jackie is the calm that follows the storm, her smile bright and warm, eyes immediately scanning Shane for signs of improvement.
“Jesus Christ,” Hayden breathes. “You look like genuine fucking dog shit.”
Shane laughs. “Good to see you too.”
Hayden crosses the room in three strides and pulls Shane into a careful, one-armed hug that avoids every tube and bruise with uncanny precision. His hand grips the back of Shane’s neck, grounding, familiar.
“I thought we lost you,” he says quietly.
“I know,” Shane replies. “I’m sorry.”
Ilya seems to find it all very amusing. “This is very romantic. Should I be worried, Shane?”
“Oh, absolutely. I've been worried for years.” Jackie chimes in. She steps to his side, setting her bag down and leaning in to kiss Shane’s cheek. “You scared us, Hollander,” she says, gently. “You have two very angry girls to answer to. Ruby says she will only forgive uncle Shane if he brings her lots of chocolate so...”
“I’ll make a note,” Shane agrees. “Unfortunate game to have them at… were they okay?”
“I pulled them into the box fairly quickly, nothing to panic about. They'll want you over for dinner as soon as you're recovered – and me too. And maybe you can bring your new man?” Her gaze shifted to Ilya.
She smiles.“Nice to finally meet you Ilya. I want to say I've heard good things, But— ” Jackie says tilting her head towards her husband. Meanwhile, Hayden chuckles, knowing just how much he had complained about Rozanov to his wife in the years they'd played against each other.
Ilya straightens instinctively, reaching out for a hand shake. “Yes. Well, I am not surprised Pike's wife is much too beautiful and interesting for him, ”
She laughs loudly and reaches out without hesitation and pulls him into a hug.
Ilya freezes before awkwardly hugging her back.
“Oh, I like you already,” Jackie says, releasing him and stepping back. “If Shane likes you then I suppose you can't be too bad, huh? I'm going to have to get you signed up for our Montreal WAGs chat. Although, I guess you’re a HAB technically?”
“What is this? HAB?” His eyes flit over to Shane.
“WAGs, Wife and Girlfriends. HABs, Husband and Boyfriends” She replies.
Shane and Ilya's faces flush. Through all the I love you’s and I cant live out you’s, they had kind of forgotten to put a label on anything. Ilya’s ears go red.
“I guess, I am first Montreal boyfriend,” His eyes flittering over to meet Shane’s again, “But, one man chat is lonely. I will be WAG with you.”
Hayden watches the exchange, brow furrowed. “This is insane.”
Ilya, not unlike a child, pulls a face and mocks back in a high-pitched voice, “This is insane,” then laughs like he's really amused himself.
Hayden looks at Shane, “Seriously? This is your man?”
“Thats my man.”
“To be honest I'm a bit lost on this. I-I have questions.” He says slowly.
Shane snorts. “Shocking.”
Hayden rubs the back of his neck. “I mean – okay. I’ll be honest. I did not see this coming.”
“That was the aim, Hayd. We couldn't really let people know about us,” Shane says mildly.
“I’m not talking about the Rozanov thing. That weirdly makes sense. I mean, in reflection knowing that you’re gay and together … you guys were kind of obvious as fuck” Hayden stops, searching for the words. “It's the fact that you're gay at all. I had no clue man. And, I’m not weirded out. I'm not homophobic. You know I LOVE the gays. I’m Just… confused.”
“Well, people can get confused sexually sometimes, Pike. But, we will accept you regardless. Is okay to LOVE gays” Ilya says mocking him further.
“Fuck off, Rozanov,” Hayden responds, while Shanes replies, “Shut up, Ilya.”
Hayden looks between Ilya and Shane. “So you're like full gay?”
“I am. Full gay,” Shane replies, nodding.
Hayden quiets his voice as though trying to keep the next sentence private, despite the fact that everyone in the room is clearly listening, "It’s just — I thought you had that thing going on with that chick. Lily”
“Lily?”
“Yeah, Her”
“You mean Boston Lily?”
“Yeah, Boston Lily. The one you've talked to for like years and years.”
“BOSTON... Lily...” Shane raises his eyebrows, as if to say are you dumb?
“Baby, you are going to have to start using some critical thinking skills.” Jackie pats his back.
“Huh?”
“Christ, Hayden, I am Lily obviously,” Ilya butts in. He turns to Yuna, “How am I seen as the problem here. He's an idiot on purpose to anger me. I cannot be blamed for my actions.”
Yuna smiles at him very clearly amused by the four of them, "I'm not getting involved. I have too many emails to catch up on” and she returns to typing away at her phone.
“You are Boston Lily?” Hayden fumes. “Bro? You were ditching win celebrations for Rozanov? I thought you were getting laid, man”
Shane, Jackie and Ilya stare at him then, all adopting the are-you-dumb? face. After a few seconds of silence his brain kicks in, sending an image to the forefront of his mind that he could have done without.
“Oh, God Shane. With the enemy all these years.” He groans.
“How are you surprised by this? I think it's fairly obvious we've been seeing each other for a while.” Shane responds.
“I didn't think as long as that! I was thinking that this,” He points between the two, “was a recent development, man. Like a year at most.”
“Technically, seven… or nine if you really get into it”
“Nine years?” Hayden looks crestfallen. “Since before our rookie season?”
“Yeah, it's been… a long time,” Shane smiles sadly.
Hayden comes forward and leans over to hug Hollander. He wraps his arms around him softly so as to not injure him further and whispers into the hold, “I'm so sorry, Shane”. He leans back and continues “I can't imagine hiding Jackie for nine years. I mean it would be harder because she’s like SO much hotter than Rozanov but, I'm sorry it's taken this long. No matter what anyone says I want you to know I've got your back. I don't love your choice of men, but I'm happy he loves you the way you deserve, Man. and you know what? Fuck Montreal. If they don't want to support you being queer and shit then we’ll pack our bags and go elsewhere”
Shane's ears ring at that last line. “I'm sorry, what?”
Yuna's head has popped up, “Hayden,” she hisses, “We talked about this”
“Talked about what? What's happening” Shane's heart speeds, which made evident to the room via his heart monitor that he's still hooked up to.
“Shane, you need to calm down.” Ilya comes over to embrace his hand.
“No, no, it's nothing.”
“Well, it's obviously not nothing if my moms told you to be hush about it.” Shane rebuts. He needs to know what his team had said about the incident – His injury and his unintentional coming out.
“No, they've literally said nothing. It's been a couple days now and people are finding it a bit weird so they've been getting real shit about it but they've still just said nothing. It's kinda like they're trying to pretend it never happened because they've still been posting upcoming game dates and stuff.”
Shane huffs. He wishes he was surprised about it but he's not. In his years of imagining what it would be like when he came out as gay, if he ever came out as gay, The dream scenario was always that they were just breeze past it, ignoring it, not bringing any attention to it and he could just go on living happily under the radar. But now it felt a little bit disappointing.
Having the most important people in his life finding out this new part of him and being so supportive, He'd allowed himself to dream in a way that he hadn't let himself dream before. He'd let himself think that everybody would be so supportive – This was foolish and he knew it. But when you've spent years expecting the worst and it doesn't come – a new faith sparks.
He starts to feel breathless and begins gasping in air as he lifts his free arm over his eyes blocking out the faces of everyone staring at him around the room. His bottom lip begins to quiver as the panic rises in him and settles on his chest like a sopping wet duvet.
He feels Hayden move away and Ilya slips into the vacated place next to him. “Shane.”
He doesn't respond.
“Shane,” Ilya's voice soothes him and he lets himself respond.
“It’s okay. m’ just freaking out. I'll be okay in a second” His voice cracks
“Hey, hey. It's okay. It's all good. We're gonna figure it all out. Your friends are here. Your family is here. Your Boyfriend is here. We're all good. We'll make a plan in a couple days if we need it. But nothing's happened yet, okay?”
Ilya's words and the comfort Shanes feels from his soft pets across his chest, calm him and he drops his arm and takes a deep breath.
He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the pillow for a few moments. The silence in the room as they watch him process the new information. “Okay”, He speaks after a few moments.
“Are you okay?” Rozanov responds.
“Not particularly, but I feel like if I dwell on this right now it's not gonna be good for my health,” Shane looks at him, “I'll think about this in a few days when I get out of here.”
“So healthy and responsible, lyubimyy. This is good idea." Ilya presses a kiss to his forehead.
They talk for a while amongst the four of them—about recovery timelines, about Jackie's efforts to set Shane up with her entire yoga class, about how Shane's dearly missing his eye-glasses and wanting a shower (and for Ilya to have one too, preferably with him in it). Laughter creeps back in, tentative but real. Eventually, they leave with promises to come back. The room quiets again.
TEN DAYS LATER.
Shane stares at the ceiling for a long moment, phone warm in his hand.
The photo sits open on the screen.
It's the one his mom took in the hospital. He's asleep still— or freshly awake, still having yet to open his eyes. He's still got a line attached to his arm, wires connected to his chest poking out the neck of his hospital gown. He's pressed into the chest of his boyfriend—their legs tangled beneath the sheets.
They're in Shane's home now. He felt lucky to have such a quick turnaround in the hospital. They probably would've liked to keep him a bit longer but Yuna was very persuasive. All in all I think they were happy to get him out of the building. The press outside had been a bit of a nightmare, Journalists hung by the entrances, asking patients whether they'd seen him or Ilya—Hungrily snapping photos of Yuna and David when they arrived and left each day. A few had attempted to get up to his ward, posing as his ‘PR team’ or ‘assistants’. The price tag on a picture of Ilya and Shane was astronomical and it was a definite means for concern from the staff.
He scrolls to the next picture. Same position but with one eye cracked open a slight smile curled on his lips.
He scrolls on. Ilyas awake and sleepily pressing a kiss to the freckles on Shane's cheeks. Shane is beaming at the camera.
He looks so unbelievably happy. He's bruised and injured and in pain but he's never felt more joy in his life.
“Should I?” he asks quietly. Ilya knows what he means immediately. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to. I really really want to.”
Ilya studies him. “Im okay with anything, Shane. I will go anywhere you go.”
Shane nods. “We’re choosing happiness, right?”
His boyfriend smiles, runs his fingers through his hair and presses a hard kiss into Shane's mouth.
That settles it.
He opens his notes app and copies the statement he’d been drafting with Yuna and Farrah for days. He's already re-downloaded instagram ready to post for the first time in many months. He selects the three photos and pastes his caption.
@ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer
Hello everyone,
I wanted to say thank you to the medical staff who saved my life. I’m here today because of them, and I’ll never be able to fully put my gratitude into words. I'm glad to say I've been able to return home just a few days ago and will continue to recover, and come back to the game hungrier than ever.
What happened on the ice was terrifying, but I do not believe there was intent to cause what followed. I’ve spoken with Cliff Marlow, and there is no ill will between us. I support him in his career, and I don’t want this to be something that defines either of us.
To the Boston Bears organization, players, and staff, I want to thank you. The care, respect, and support that you've shown to me and my family, both publicly and privately, has meant more than you know. To the NHL also, thank you for prioritizing my health and standing behind me during my recovery. Hockey culture is changing, and I felt that in a very real way over these last few days. Seeing the posts and messages from our fans and the wider hockey community has shown me the importance of our words and actions. Thank you all for the kindness, patience, and acceptance you’ve shown.
Finally, to the man I love most. While maybe this hasn't been the most ideal way to come out, I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m incredibly grateful that I get to keep living my life, but most of all I get to keep living it with you. If I loved you less I'd be able to talk about it more – so I'll leave it at that.
We all deserve the opportunity to be authentically our true selves and I endeavor to continue to represent the need for safe places within the sport for LGBTQ+ fans, staff and players.
He posts it before he can overthink it.
“Feel good?” Ilya whispers to him, and Shane nods a yes before pressing a kiss to his lips. “Do I get to read it now?”
“Hmmmm, later,” Hollander replies as he pulls himself up, pushing Ilya back and mounting himself on Ilya's lap. His crotch presses against the hard muscled abdomen of his boyfriend.
Shane exhales, smiling.
“I feel lighter,” he says.
Ilya presses his forehead to Shane’s. “Me too.”
For the first time, there's no secrets left. There's no burden on their shoulders.
He grinds his ass down onto Ilya's crotch in a slow rocking and grinding motion—his cock hardening against their stomachs as he feels Ilya boxers tent under him.
“Shane” Rozanov moans into the air.
“Ilya,” He pants back against his lips.
He presses a wet, breathy kiss to his boyfriend's lips. Ilya pulls back and cradles Shane's face with his hand.
He says “Hollander, If you don't stop that, this is gonna be over in twenty five seconds.”