Chapter Text
Later
Ottawa 2026
Shane just knew it was going to be a perfect day.
Any day that started with his husband’s dick in his mouth was sure to be perfect. Ilya’s hands stroked through Shane’s hair, before his grip tightened and he urged him down almost roughly.
“You can take more,” he grunted. “Come on, know you can do it.”
The command made Shane moan around his dick. He loved Ilya like this - imperious, almost mean - knowing it had taken him years to fully let himself go during sex this way. In the beginning of their relationship he’d been so gentle, eventually admitting that he worried about hurting Shane or pressuring him into things he didn’t like. But there was nothing Shane didn’t like doing with Ilya, and while he was undeniably the boss in their relationship, he didn’t mind relinquishing that title in bed. Breathing through his nose, he tried to relax his throat, wanting to be good for him. Shane gagged, choking a little as he took him almost to the hilt.
“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good boy.” Ilya released his grip on his hair to stroke across his cheek, studying Shane’s tear streaked cheeks and worshipful eyes. “So pretty,” he groaned, guiding Shane up until just the tip of him was still in his mouth, coming on his tongue.
Shane climbed up his body, dropping kisses along his stomach and chest along the way. When he reached his mouth, he kissed him with abandon, letting Ilya taste what Shane had just wrung out of him.
“You did such a good job, my Shane,” Ilya murmured against his lips. “What do you want as your reward?”
“I want you to fuck me for hours, baby,” Shane replied, but couldn’t stop his eyes from flicking over to his phone and the million messages already begging for his attention. “But that might have to wait for tonight.”
Ilya fumbled between their bodies, wrapping a hand around his dick and stroking with practiced ease. “Poor pretty boy, just wants to stay home and be a slut for his husband. But world needs saving, yes?”
“Something like that,” Shane gritted out, clutching Ilya’s arms as his hand sped up. “Fuck, like that, Ilya. Don’t stop.” Gasping against his mouth, Shane came into his fist.
Anya chose that moment to start scratching at their door. Ilya got up and let her in on his way to the bathroom. Shane rolled to his back, flinging an arm over his eyes to savour the moment just a bit longer. The baby started to stir, her cries crackling over the monitor Shane always left next to his pillow.
“I will go,” Ilya said immediately.
Shane almost protested, wanting to be the first to see her sleepy face. But Ilya was so busy during the season, Shane knew he wanted to spend every moment he could with her while he was home. Deciding he should get ready for the busy day ahead, Shane headed for a quick shower, smiling when he returned to the bedroom and saw his husband and daughter waiting for him. Shane was technically her biological parent, but he swore that she and Ilya had identical grins, crooked and mischievous.
“Baba!” she called out, reaching for him with chubby, perfect little hands.
“Good morning, sweet girl,” Shane replied, leaning over to lift her up. Anya yipped around his feet, the little dog wanting attention from the baby as well. “Morning, Anya.”
Gordie jumped onto the bed, weaving around Ilya as she stayed back from the chaos. Her fur was getting whiter every year but she was still in good health. Shane smiled down at his old friend, a secret smile just between them, as if to say yes, they are a lot, aren’t they? But we love them.
“Ok, papa’s turn,” Ilya said, reaching for her greedily. Shane let him take her, enjoying the way she giggled when Ilya tickled her belly. His phone lit up again and he reluctantly checked it. “You’re ok with her for a bit? I’ve got a few things to do in the office today. And then I have - ”
“Yes, solnyshko, the game tonight. We will be there to cheer for baba, won’t we, moya krasivaya devochka?”
Shane got dressed and smothered them both in kisses before packing his briefcase. Ilya followed him to the door, waving him goodbye in an exaggerated manner until Imogen copied him. “Say bye, Immie.”
“Baba!”
Shane laughed at the silly nickname. At eighteen months, Imogen called Ilya papa and was starting to say complete words, but still inexplicably called Shane baba and nothing else. “Bye, guys. I love you.”
“We love you, too.”
The drive to the office was a fair distance but Shane didn’t mind, using the time to gather his thoughts. There was a huge list of things to get through today, including a meeting with the Ministry of Sport about some recommendations for cultural safety, especially for players at a junior level. Shane was incredibly proud of the work he and Ilya had put into the Irina Foundation, expanding it from Boston to Ottawa when they had decided to move back to Canada. Now they ran camps in both cities every summer with players from all conferences agreeing to coach, and coordinated funding for dozens of programs in the States and Canada.
A call came in over the car speaker. “Morning, Rose.”
“Hey, boss,” she replied.
Technically he wasn’t her boss anymore, now she had left HTG Management to run the Boston branch of the Foundation. And besides that, she was more like family, especially after her girlfriend had given Shane and Ilya the greatest gift they could ever ask for.
“Did you get the agenda I sent through last night? Sorry, I know it was late but I wanted to get a head start.”
Rose shushed him. “Boring work stuff later. How is our baby?”
“She’s the best,” Shane said, knowing he was smiling goofily.
They had relocated to Ottawa and been married for a few years when they started talking about starting a family, though Shane had been hesitant about such a big change at first. But Ilya was so excited about having a kid, Shane had been helpless to do anything but agree to start the process, even if the timing was a little crazy with his job and Ilya still playing. To be fair, they had assumed that it would take years to adopt or find a surrogate. It had blown him away when Svetlana offered to have a baby for them as soon as she heard they wanted one, never realising that she not only loved Ilya enough to do something like that, but Shane as well.
Shane’s concerns about being a parent vanished as soon as he held his daughter. Imogen had become the bright sun of their world, Shane and Ilya circling her in helpless devotion, unable to imagine life without her. Sveta would have his undying gratitude for that, most especially because she had made it possible for their daughter to be Russian like Ilya.
Maybe Shane would always long for a child with the golden curls and hazel eyes of the man he loved, but he understood Ilya’s reasoning for not wanting to pass on his genetic background. And it didn’t matter in the end, because Imogen was undeniably Ilya’s daughter, blithely disregarding biology to somehow be a perfect copy of her papa, their mannerisms and personalities eerily similar even at such a young age. But it was still nice to know that even if he could never return to his home country, Ilya could have a perfect little piece of it to hold forever. He’d cried when he burned his Russian passport after becoming a Canadian citizen, but he had cried harder when Imogen was born, and those tears were joyful ones.
“Oh I can’t wait to squeeze her soon,” Rose said. “Sveta has a suitcase full of presents for her, by the way. I hope you’re prepared for a Christmas extravaganza.”
Shane and Ilya were hosting this year, with friends and family coming from all over. It would be Imogen’s first Christmas with her Auntie Rose and Auntie Sveta, and while Shane was excited, he dreaded how much Ilya and the girls would spoil her over the holiday. Not that he didn’t spoil her too, but that was different, obviously.
“We’re all very excited to see you. Cliff said you guys will be on the same flight?”
“Don’t talk to me about that moron,” Rose grumbled, making Shane laugh.
“That’s no way to speak about your godparent-in-law.”
“I’ll talk about him however I want. Last summer he promised forty kids tickets to an NHL playoff game, and who’s had to organise that?”
“You, Rose,” Shane replied, trying to disguise his long suffering sigh as a yawn.
Rose and Cliff had briefly dated, ending things after discovering they annoyed each other beyond bearing, which had confused Shane at the time because Ilya was the love of his life and also the person he most frequently wanted to strangle. Then Rose had started dating Svetlana and Shane realised that not every couple had to bicker like he and Ilya did to be happy.
“Yeah, me. I can’t believe you let that guy have any authority over children whatsoever.”
“He’s a good coach, and you have to admit the kids love him.”
“I don’t have to admit shit.”
Shane laughed, noting another call coming through. “Ok, I gotta go. We’ll speak a bit later.”
“Love you, boss.”
“Not your boss,” he reminded her. “And love you too.”
The day was an interminable blur of meetings, though it was nice to see everyone from the office in person. Shane worked from home most days since Imogen was born, running the tiny empire he and Ilya had built with the baby strapped to his chest or bouncing on his knee. Finally he completed his list of tasks for the day and could escape to the rink, excited to lead the warmups before his game.
“What’s up, Hollander?” One of his teammates greeted him as he entered the locker room, slapping his back.
“Not much, how about you?” Shane asked, at ease in this place he had thought would unsettle him forever. But even though it had taken him a long time, and down a very different path than he’d originally planned, Shane had found a way back to hockey, even if it was just a recreational league.
“Yeah, great. Rozy coming tonight?”
Shane had been worried at first that his being married to a man would make the guys uncomfortable around him but they were all supportive, mostly just excited that someone on their team gave them access to the most famous hockey player in the world. It was almost sweet, the way they crowded around Ilya, asking for advice and autographs every time he was at a game.
“He’ll be here,” Shane replied as he shrugged on his gear. “Alright, guys. Time for some warmups.” The team groaned, Shane’s answering grin undeniably wicked. Their league might be just for fun, but Shane took his job as captain very seriously, running his team like the navy.
Instructing them through some punishing drills gave him some enjoyment, though of course nothing compared to bossing Ilya around on the ice, not that he did that very often anymore. They skated together for fun or on the occasional date night and Shane still gave him some informal advice, but Luca handled most of his schedule and training regimens these days.
The game started and Shane skated to centre ice, looking over to where he knew his favourite people would be watching from their usual place in the stands. His parents were there, his mother looking far too serious in her spectating of a social weeknight game. The baby was perched on David’s lap, comically oversized noise-blocking earmuffs over her beanie. Ilya dropped a kiss to the top of her head before gently guiding her hand in a little wave down to Shane.
When he saw Shane had noticed them, he dug around under his seat then held up a sign he and Imogen had clearly worked on together, her scribbles around the large letters in the centre reading Go Hollander (baba)! The sign made Shane blush, though he should have been used to Ilya’s unexpectedly romantic gestures after years together. While he’d been a demanding, frequently petulant client, Ilya as a husband was beyond all Shane’s expectations. Patient, attentive, devoted, like Shane had dreamed him into existence.
Shane blew them a kiss before locking in, determined to play well and impress his husband. Ilya was particularly handsy when Shane won a game, and Shane looked forward to his reward later that night when he beat the other team into oblivion. They won handily 3-1 and Shane immediately skated over to the edge of the ice, embracing Ilya across the gate.
“Very good, moya lyubov. We will discuss reward later,” Ilya whispered against his ear.
Shane blushed, shoving his chest halfheartedly. “Shut up.” The effect of the quip was kind of ruined by the kiss he smacked against Ilya’s cheek.
“Baba!” Imogen called out for him from Yuna’s arms, hands grabbing for him. Her little freckles stood out against her pink cheeks, making her the cutest thing Shane had ever seen.
“Hey, Immie,” he cooed, letting her wrap a hand around his finger, trying to soothe her when she fussed about not being held. “Sorry honey, baba will take his skates off first, ok?”
Once he’d had a shower and changed, they had a quick catch up with his parents outside the rink before separating, Yuna and David having a dinner with friends to get to. They drove in companionable silence for most of the way, the drive taking twice as long as it usually did because Ilya drove at least five miles below the speed limit with the baby in the car.
Shane pressed his head to the cool window, watching the city streets taper out into wilderness as they got closer to their cottage. “Oh, Harris was asking if you wanted to grab dinner tomorrow.”
“Will Barrett be there?” Ilya grumbled.
Shane rolled his eyes at the silly display of jealousy, never quite sure if Ilya was joking or not. “Yes, Ilya, I’m sure that Harris’s partner and our friend of several years will be there.”
“Do not trust that man. He followed you to Ottawa, now wants dinner with you? Suspicious behaviour.”
“Wow, big words for you,” Shane teased, squirming when Ilya pinched his side in retaliation. “And technically he transferred to the Centaurs first, baby.”
Ilya clutched at Shane’s hand, dragging it over to rest on his thigh. “All part of plot to get my husband for himself.”
Shane rolled his head over to study his beloved profile. “It’s a shame his plan is destined to fail, then.”
“Oh?” Ilya asked, his eyes remaining fixed on the road.
“He’s not my type.”
“What is your type, Hollander?”
Shane leaned over to kiss the side of his neck. “Big, sexy Russians who annoy the shit out of me. Sound like anyone you know?”
“I think this person sounds perfect for you.”
Smiling over at him, Shane squeezed their hands together where they were still resting on Ilya’s thigh. “He is.”
The cottage was a bright spot in the dark night surrounding them as they pulled into the driveway. They made their way inside with their hands still joined, Imogen’s head resting on Shane’s shoulder as she slowly woke from her car nap. Shane cooked them a quick dinner while Ilya fed Gordie and Anya, then they sat at the table with Imogen’s high chair between them, stealing bites of their own food while they both watched her eat, fascinated by the happy expressions she made when she tasted something she liked.
“Maybe I’m biased, but I think she might be the cutest baby in the world,” Shane murmured as she munched on a slice of strawberry.
Ilya looked between them with soft eyes. “Of course she is, she has your pretty face.”
“And your attitude,” Shane joked when she started to try and wriggle out the chair with a displeased squeal. “Alright, sweet girl. Time for your bath.”
Shane filled the bath and placed her into the warm water as Ilya sprinkled rubber duckies around, her peals of laughter as he quacked and played with her making Shane’s heart surge. When she was dried and dressed in a little set of pyjamas, Shane draped her over his shoulder and rocked her while Ilya switched the television on to check ESPN, their nightly ritual when he wasn’t on the road. An image flashed across the screen of Dallas Kent being escorted from a courthouse in handcuffs.
Shane instinctively reached up to shield his baby’s face from the screen. “Switch the channel, Ilya. I don’t want her seeing that.”
Ilya turned the television off completely and rushed to Shane, circling him and the baby in his arms. “Are you ok, sweetheart? I know it could not be easy, seeing him back in the news.”
Kent had finally been sentenced for his assault on Shane a few years ago, the drawn out court process taking a toll on Shane, especially as he had to testify for several lengthy sessions. Relieving the most painful event of his life over and over had been difficult, to say the least. But it had been worth it when Kent had been convicted and the NHL was forced to accept that their golden boy was a criminal. Shane would have been happy to never hear his name again, but a group of brave women had come forward publicly with their allegations soon after Kent was imprisoned for the assault on Shane. While it was hard seeing him in the press, he was glad to think Kent would pay for all the harm he had done.
“I’m alright,” Shane reassured him. “I just don’t want Immie to… she shouldn’t ever be touched by stuff like that. She’s too precious.” Clutching her closer, Shane ran a hand across her silky hair.
“You have still been talking to Janie?” Ilya asked.
“Yes, we check in every few months. I’m good, baby. I promise.”
“Baba,” Imogen said sleepily, reaching up to touch Shane’s cheek. “Baby.” She sighed contentedly before dropping her head back to his shoulder.
Shane and Ilya both laughed. “Has she been trying to call me baby this whole time?” Shane asked in amused wonder.
“Even she knows you are boss baby, Hollander,” Ilya said, grinning widely.
Shane shook his head. “Idiot. And it’s probably because I always…”
“Call me baby? Do not worry, I like it very much.”
Shane rolled his eyes. “I know you do. Come on, it’s time for her to go to bed.”
Laying her gently in the crib, they looked down at her sleeping form illuminated in the soft glow of her night light. She stretched a chubby arm up above her head, kicking out her chubby legs in a picture of relaxation. Her inky black lashes were so long they nearly brushed her freckled cheeks as she slept, letting out little breaths.
“Good night, moye serdtse. Ya tebya lyublyu,” Ilya whispered.
“Ya tebya lyublyu,” Shane repeated.
“I think I will retire after this season,” Ilya said quietly. “Want to spend every night like this.”
Shane looked over at him in surprise. “You would do that?”
“Hockey is fun job,” Ilya said with a shrug. “But you and baby are my life. I do not want to miss any of it.”
Silently guiding him to their bedroom, Shane pushed him onto the bed, hooking his leg over his hips and sinking down, pouring all the love he felt into the kiss he gave him. Ilya’s hands ran up his thighs to settle on his waist. Pulling back, Shane gazed down at him, never quite used to how beautiful his face looked in moments like this.
“I’m really glad we did this,” Shane whispered.
Ilya grinned before flipping him over to his back, pressing kisses across his cheeks. “Did what, moya lyubov?”
Shane reached up to frame his face with his hands, kissing the slightly crooked bridge of his nose. “Disregarded professional boundaries. Ruined our friendship. All of it.”
“Me too,” Ilya laughed. They kissed again then lay together for a long time, talking in the nonsensical combination of Russian and English that had become their secret language. “Oh, never asked you. How was your day, solnyshko?”
“Perfect.”
-
Then
Boston 2010
The little black and white kitten had reminded him of Hollander as soon as he saw her. The little spots around her whiskers, the sassy expression she made whenever something displeased her, it was like she was his long lost cat daughter. Ilya didn’t even know if he liked cats, but something told him that they would be good for each other. And Ilya needed someone to keep an eye out for Hollander when he was away for games, even if it was only the tiny cat currently sinking her sharp teeth into his hand.
“No, little girl,” he whispered to her as he lifted her from the carrier. “You must be nice kitten now, there is very special boy who will be here soon. You have to make a good impression, hmm?”
The shelter he volunteered at had charged him an insane amount to release her without a microchip, but he didn’t want Hollander to know where she had come from, sure he would try to refuse the gesture if he knew Ilya was behind it. Looking around, Ilya nodded approvingly at the natural light of the apartment. The furniture he’d ordered looked good, made the space feel welcoming. Ilya wanted everything to be perfect for him.
Dropping a quick kiss to her head, Ilya hefted the carrier up and watched her start to explore her new home. “See you soon, kitten.”
Ilya let himself out just in time, sneaking around a corner as he saw Hollander exit the elevator towing a large suitcase behind him. It took all of Ilya’s self control not to rush over to him. Ilya wanted to know everything: how his flight had been, if he thought Boston could feel like home, if he’d been thinking about Ilya as much as Ilya had been thinking of him. But Hollander would be tired from the flight and Ilya was sure he would want some time to adjust to everything on his own.
So Ilya waited, stealing a glimpse of his pretty face as he entered the apartment, the door closing behind him with a soft click. But not before Ilya heard his voice.
“Oh! Who are you?”
Ilya smiled to himself, sure a beautiful love story was about to begin.