Chapter Text
Ilya has a problem.
It is one in the morning and he cannot stop replaying the last ten seconds of Shane’s controversial post-game interview. I am proud to be a part of this and support my family. I am proud to be a part of this and support my family. I am proud to be a part of this and support my family.
No further questions.
His hand in his pants. His dick half-hard about it. Shane shutting down the stupid reporter, fierce look in his eyes. Ilya wants Shane to put it on him even if Ilya has done nothing wrong. Shane is being sexy. Ilya would be in the mood if Shane’s words themselves weren’t making his guts twist. Hand at the base, no pleasure inside.
He knows the family Shane speaks of.
Missy.
Shane’s cousin.
Ilya has not met her. She is somehow more busy than hockey players. If Shane was not Shane, Ilya would call him a liar. A trickster. But he has seen pictures of her, like Shane, but without freckles. Like Shane, but with long, wavy hair. He watches her videos, sometimes, on Instagram. She is also fluent in the wolf bird’s call.
I am proud to be a part of this and support my family.
Does she know how lucky she is to have someone like Shane? She could have been a family secret—shh! But Shane puts on the rainbow jersey and uses the rainbow tape—Ilya cannot believe it! He imagines Shane using nail clippers on every loose thread he finds, littering the locker-room floor before it’s time to line up.
It’s actually driving Ilya crazy. No longer can he tease Shane about reading hockey books during his time off from hockey. Now Shane sends Ilya historical facts about people like them. Worst of all, he sends Ilya historical facts about people like Ilya. Shane’s trying to connect—Ilya understands that, but he doesn’t want to look back. He’s trying to fucking leave. There is nothing for him back there. He doesn’t want to know. He’s already lived it.
Ilya tosses his phone aside and removes his hand from his pants. Curling up over his body pillow, Ilya takes a bite and wishes he had gone for something cheap to tear into.
There's shit he wants to tell Shane, but they don't translate well as texts. They don't translate well as English either. He has barely formed them in Russian, currently manifested as nebulous feelings of bleh and ugh and I don't like it. Why would he? Four games in the regular season, playoffs up to seeding. The time they have is short. Their homes a tiny pocket of the universe. If Ilya opens this door, woosh! Flood.
Although at this rate, Shane might learn Russian just to deepen his understanding of Ilya's culture—supposedly. Ilya’s Russian culture is Sveta now. Irina dead. Grigori dead. Andrei blocked. Sonia’s trust fund will eventually face a paycut once Ilya signs with Ottawa. He hopes she’ll forgive him. It would not matter if she doesn’t.
He has to laugh. Playing shit hockey to be two hours away from Shane Hollander. Ilya has done it before, but that was short lived. Had won the Cup before Shane achieved back to back wins.
Ilya will just have to do it again.