Chapter Text
When Hayden first noticed Shane texting a girl named Lily, it was Shane's second season with the Voyageurs and it had taken a while for him to notice it. Hockey players were creatures of habit, even the least superstitious of the bunch had pre and post-game rituals, routines to keep their head in the game.
Everybody knew that after showering, Shane would sit down on the benches of the locker room and text his Mum about the game. Some of the guys, mainly Comeau and Drapeau, liked to give him shit about it, but Hayden found it kind of sweet. On this particular day, as was routine, he still sat down to text Yuna Hollander but after the third week of these conversations getting longer and longer, staring at his phone with this dumb, lovesick puppy expression on his face, Hayden decided to just.. have a little peek.
And boy, did he get an eyeful.
Someone named 'Lily' was describing graphically what she would do to sweet, innocent, Shane Hollander. Something about his 'slutty little back arch,' Hayden deeply wished he had minded his own business, but he was an adult, and so was Shane, so he could be mature about this. But that didn't mean that Hayden's entire world view hadn't shifted entirely to the left, because it had.
Shane upheld the 'Golden Boy' image the media spun him, no alcohol during the season, no random hookups, hell if some told him that Shane was a virgin, he'd have a hard time defending him. Now, Hayden knew logically that despite what anyone may say, Shane likely has had sex, he's an adult after all, with an adult life. He just didn't expect him to be sat in the locker room, sexting some girl he's never heard of in frankly disturbing detail.
Wasn't that the strange part though? Hayden had never heard Shane mention anyone, ever, and now this girl was distracting him from his sacred routine and Shane was letting her?
Hayden couldn't just let this go, he slid onto the bench next to Shane and slung an easy arm over his shoulders "Lily, huh?" Shane seemed to freeze for a moment and quickly shoved his phone face down on the seat, a blush making it's way across his cheeks and ears. "Yeah," was all he said in response and Hayden almost rolled his eyes at the lack of detail.
"So? Who is she? Who's worthy of the great Shane Hollander?" Their conversation was starting to attract the attention of the other guys, everybody knew Hollander was basically celibate. Luckily, he doesn't have to beg much more, but Shane's voice is quiet when he speaks, "She's from Boston, we met last season, it's nothing serious."
Now, Hayden prides himself on being the closest friend of Shane Hollander and trusts him not to lie to his face, but even he joins in with the collective groan across the locker room. Him? Not serious? As if. Shane was many things, smart, kind and the greatest hockey player of their generation (fuck off Rozanov), but casual? What a blatant lie.
Hayden winces at the overly loud exclamation from Comeau, "Bullshit!" as tactless as it is, Hayden can't help but agree, "Just tell us she's fat and ugly, dude, no way you're getting any hot pussy," nevermind, Hayden will never agree with Comeau ever again, he was such a dick.
JJ chimes in with what they're all thinking, "The day you have casual, pigs fly." But Shane just rolls his eyes, slings his duffle bag over his shoulder and walks out.
Lily.
Weird.
--
Shane was simply minding his business, he'd sent off his usual post-game text to his Mum and was waiting on a reply, to pass the time he pulled up his messages with Rozanov, they would be in Boston next week and he wanted to rile him up. Rosanov apparently understood the assignment and was the cause of the tent quickly growing in his shorts.
He was startled out of his focus by a heavy arm dropping onto his shoulders and Hayden's voice in his ear. Shane was quick to get his phone screen out of sight of his friend, sure it was covered in filthy anecdotes about Rozanov's 'Magic Stick' and fought the urge to shrug Hayden's arm off of him. It's not that Shane disliked physical contact, he knew that he would never fully avoid it as a hockey player, but that didn't mean he loved other people touching him all the time.
The name Lily sends shockwaves of panic through Shane's brain but also, mortifyingly, images of their escapades, bringing a blush to his cheeks. "Yeah," Shane replies, it's all he's able to conjure up as his mind works a mile a minute, trying to come up with an excuse that will explain him texting a girl, anything other than having a serious girlfriend that they'll ask to meet eventually.
He gives them the smallest piece of information possible and a weak "It's nothing serious," but winces as soon as it leaves his mouth. It's true, it's not like he's dating Rozanov, they only meet a few times a year, and all they do when together is fuck. The team clearly doesn't believe him though, the fact he rarely goes out and never goes home with anyone from clubs and bars leading them to the assumption that he didn't do casual. Maybe it wasn't entirely wrong, hell he didn't. With anyone but Rozanov.
While Comeau's insult was rude, it wasn't unexpected, JJ's exclamation of disbelief, however, is what makes Shane finally leave the room, it's hurtful coming from someone he considers a friend. As he leaves he hopes he looks calm and well-put together and not like he's fleeing to go panic in his Jeep.
When he's away from the prying eyes of all his teammates, Shane doesn't yell, he doesn't cry, he doesn't scream. He takes a few measured, (ok, he hyperventilates, but that's besides the point.) calm breaths and thinks 'What would Mum do?' She would drive home and make a plan, so that's what he does.
By the time he closes the google doc it's well into the early hours of the morning but Shane feels safer, less like he's standing on a tightrope above a tank of piranhas doing the macarena like a common circus clown. He now has a 30 point plan of how to lie to his teammates that would make even Yuna Hollander proud. It covers every angle, why they couldn't meet her, how they'd met, when they'd met and just about every single thing Shane could ever be asked.
The only part of his plan he was unsure of was what he was going to tell Rozanov, how do you tell your casual male hookup of a few years that you'll be telling everyone you know they they're your long distance girlfriend. He would obviously need to be informed at some point, maybe he would like the advice when it came to his own teammates, but this didn't feel like the kind of thing he could send as a text. In some kind of screwed-up sleep deprived hysteria Shane decides against an explanation and silently shares the doc to Rozanov's email.
Resolute he could follow the plan, Shane was strangely calm. He won't do it all at once, this is the kind of thing to lead into, drop hints through the years, twist the narrative so his teammates think, 'Shane and his longtime girlfriend Lily' and not, 'Shane who never talks to girls ever and this person he's been sexting for years that no one's ever met.'
Shane's head hits the pillow secure in the fact he'll be ready for whatever his team will throw at him, his plan will work.