Chapter Text
August 2021 - The town next to the hockey camp, Ontario
The season and playoffs seemed to rush by Ilya. He managed to stay focused and grounded through it all by ignoring everything but hockey. Anything he wanted to do had to be scheduled around his games and commitments for the team. He went out a couple of times, but stayed in most of the time. At least he didn’t feel down though.
Ottawa made it to the conference finals, which made him the happiest he had been in the longest time. But then he became devastated when they lost. They did make it one round further than Montreal, so that made him happy. The happiness only lasted so long before he was back to that empty feeling.
After the tour, all camp and foundation work was off Ilya and Hollander’s plate until following the MHL Awards. Mrs. Hollander and the rest of their team took care of what was needed. Then Ilya and Hollander were back to helping with all the final tweaks. Now it was finally time to get the camp underway.
He hadn't talked to Hollander one-on-one since they went to check the camp out. It felt so comfortable to be with Hollander alone even if Ilya had been nervous. He had to be more careful so he didn't end up hurt. Maybe this week he could find a way to be friends with him.
Since the camp was a 2 hour+ drive for some of them, some of the team decided to stay at the hotel near the camp. Plus, Hollander and Ilya wanted to be there extremely early to get set up. It sounded better to stay close by instead of waking up earlier than Ilya would have wanted.
Ilya parked his G-Wagen in the lot of a very small hotel just before sunset. Leaving his gear in the car, Ilya grabbed his suitcase then headed into the lobby. It was the most basic hotel, it could have been located anywhere in North America.
Behind the check-in desk stood an older man, staring out at nothing before he realized that Ilya wanted to check in. The man, Swanson according to his name tag, stood up straighter and greeted Ilya happily.
He took all the information needed, then he made a huh sound.
"What is wrong?" Ilya's brow furrowed.
"It's just that I have you and Shane Hollander in one room."
Ilya laughed as he pulled up his email on his phone. There was no way he was sharing a room — a bed! — with Hollander. "Yes. We have two rooms according to what was sent to me."
"Let me see what we have available..." The panic was clear on Swanson's face while his voice stayed calm. It wasn't his fault, Ilya felt bad.
"Is okay. Don’t worry, it's probably a computer issue." He gave his best reassuring smile as a soft whoosh came with the entrance doors sliding open.
Ilya glanced over his shoulder to find Hollander walking towards him. His stomach immediately filled with butterflies. Ugh. "Hollander, we are booked to the same room."
The other man stepped next to him. "What?"
"I'm not sure what happened, Mr. Hollander."
"Is there another room available?" Hollander asked, leaning on the desk.
Swanson's face went red, sweat breaking out on his forehead. "I apologize but the hotel is fully booked out. It's a busy tourist season. I am so sorry. I can comp the room and... and whatever you want."
"No, Swanson. Is not your fault, right Hollander?" Ilya patted the desk at he told himself not to panic.
"Yeah. No. Not your fault, man. Does our room at least have two beds?" Hollander asked and Ilya hoped more than anything it did.
"Let me see..." The way Swanson's face dropped told Ilya everything he needed to know. "Um, just one queen sized bed. There's a pullout in the love seat. So technically yes."
Well at least they didn't have to share a bed. Ilya tried not to think of how badly he wanted that before Shane left a few years ago. Even sharing a room overnight would have been thrilling for Ilya at that point. Now it felt like a horror movie. For just a second, Ilya thought about finding another place to sleep, but he decided to just stay. He could always leave if he needed to…
"Okay. So, what's the room."
***
Shane stood in front of the small pull-out bed with his hands on his hips. The frame felt a little too light and made a lot of squeaky sounds when he unfolded it. The mattress looked as flat as a pancake. Behind him Rozanov moved around the room, getting settled.
The fact they were sharing a room actually terrified Shane. He wondered if Rozanov thought of the last time they spent time behind closed doors together. Did he think about Shane walking out on him and breaking his hear — a fact he no longer doubted based on his treatment of Shane up until the All Star game. Shane still remembered how it felt waking up from a nap with Rozanov wrapped around him. Those strong warm arms and the soft breath on the back of Shane’s neck. Everything that day felt so intimate.
He swallowed hard before sitting down on the pullout bed. It immediately collapsed under his weight and he ended up on his ass on the floor.
Across the room Rozanov laughed, a real loud belly laugh. "I guess it's made for kids.”
Shane stayed on the ground, staring up at the ceiling. His ass hurt but he knew his ego took the hardest hit. “I guess I can just sleep on the floor.”
A few seconds passed in silence before Rozanov spoke. “No, you can sleep on the other side of the bed. Is okay. Unless you snore.”
“I don’t snore! I’m a good roommate. Ask Hayden.” Shane pushed himself on to his feet then busied himself with trying to put the pullout back into the loveseat. “Your boyfriend won’t mind you sharing a bed with someone you… you used to fuck?” He kept his back to Rozanov as he stuffed the metal frame back in, struggling since the mattress got all bunched up.
“Boyfriend? I’m not dating anyone.” The confusion came through very clear in Rozanov’s voice. “Who told you I have a boyfriend?”
Immediately heat rose in his cheeks and ears. He managed to shove the pullout all the way back in. “Ah, the guy you was at your place when I dropped you off — with the dog.”
“The dog? That’s my dog and my dog walker. I fuck the dogwalker… he is not my boyfriend though. Just a good, convenient fuck.”
Shane shoved the cushion back onto the loveseat with a little extra vigor than needed. “Oh, okay. Sorry,” he said knowing that his voice was not as light as it should be.
“For thinking I was dating someone?”
With a shrug, Shane sat down on the loveseat while Ilya sat on the end of the bed — as far from Shane as humanly possible without standing up and leaving the room.
Rozanov pressed his lips together, looking at Shane with a scrutinizing expression. Sometimes Rozanov looked as if he could see into Shane’s soul. “Okay.”
“How old is your dog?” Shane changed the subject. The tension in the air felt thick.
“Her name is Anya, she’s 2.”
“You could have brought her.”
Rozanov shook his head. “Too busy. I don’t want to worry for her while we’re working. I miss her though. Maybe next year.”
“That’d be cool.”
They drifted into silence again.
***
After an agonizing silence, Ilya decided to shower so he didn’t have to be in the same room as Hollander. What he should have done was go looking for someone else to share a room with. He should have messaged anyone else on the team to see if they would let him sleep on their floor. But he also wanted to act like sharing a bed wasn’t a big deal for him. Then they could move on to being friends. They could be friendly at least.
Ilya stared at himself in the mirror after changing into something to sleep in. He had to remind himself Shane did not want him. If he did he couldn't do what they did before without heartbreak. Hollander didn’t want Ilya the same way Ilya wanted Shane. If Ilya could accept what he could get without getting heartbroken maybe that would make things easier.
After gathering himself Ilya went to lie down on the side of the bed he always slept on. Hollander was wearing glasses and under the blankets already. When did he start wearing glasses? Did he always? Ilya swallowed down a comment on how good he looked in his glasses. Hollander had his eyes on his phone and didn't notice him staring for a moment because he didn't look up at Ilya. SportsCenter played quietly in the background, so at least silence didn't fill the room. If he had to just listen to Shane’s breathing he would have lost his mind.
Even though they were over an arm’s length from each other, it was too close in Ilya's opinion. He rolled over so his back was to Shane before picking up his phone to scroll through Instagram and pretend he was alone in the room. It didn’t work because Ilya could still feel his presence behind him. Ilya swallowed hard, his chest tightening.
"God, I hope everything is good tomorrow." Hollander broke the illusion of privacy by speaking.
"You and your mother put it together, it will be perfect." Ilya liked Mrs. Hollander even if she scared him a little bit. Hollander clearly got his intensity from her.
Ilya pinched the cross on its chain around his neck as he thought about his mom. Tomorrow was for her in his mind. It eased the pain of sharing a bed with Hollander.
"You were there too."
"I was just going along." There was probably plenty more Ilya could have done.
"You did a ton." The bed shifted as Hollander moved.
Ilya nodded as he set his phone down and closed his eyes.
"Rozanov..." The way Hollander said Ilya's name made his stomach turn.
"What is it, Hollander?" He tried his best to sound exasperated.
"Are we... we're good, right?"
Ilya screwed his eyes shut. What kind of question was that? Clearly they were speaking to one another and in the same room. If they weren’t at least in a place they could tolerate one another, then Ilya would have left before Swanson finished his investigating. "Yes. We just opened a charity foundation and hockey camp together."
“But you don’t hate me…” For a superstar he was so insecure at times.
As much as Ilya wanted to hate Hollander, he couldn’t. He hated everything around the situation. He hated that he wasn’t good enough for Hollander. He hated that even with positive changes life could still be awful in the league and who knew what sort of sponsorship and endorsements they could lose. He hated that even if he were good enough for Hollander — for something more serious — then it wouldn’t matter because they could never really be a couple.
"I don't hate you. No." He shook his head. "I never hated you."
"Even when we first met?" Hollander questioned with a strangled laugh.
Ilya huffed, shuffling to face Hollander. Of course those stupid eyes were dark and glassy. His full lips in a tight line. Ilya's chest tightened again. Before he could speak, he took a breath and itched his nose to gather himself.
"No, not even then. I thought you were interesting and talented and good competition." And beautiful. "I know you were obsessed with me so you don't need to tell me how you felt," He said in his usual dry tone.
"You're such an asshole." Hollander snickered, rolling onto his back. "For the record, I never hated you either. If you needed to know that."
"I know."
Ilya knew he was terrible at controlling his impulses and feelings and even if he told his therapist he was getting better at it… that wasn’t really true. Due to those very reasons he shifted closer. He reached out to brush his thumb over Hollander’s freckles. His breath hitched as he made contact with his warm skin. Hollander’s eyelashes fluttered.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” Ilya said after pulling his hand back. How did they fuck around for 6 years and Ilya had no clue that Hollander wore glasses? There was no way Ilya could have loved him without knowing much about him. It was just sex. It was just easy, and Ilya liked easy things he didn’t have to work at so he thought he loved Hollander. That had to be it.
Deep down, he knew it wasn’t.
“You look good in them.” Stop talking.
Hollander turned his head to look at Ilya again. He still wasn’t making eye contact. He hadn’t since they got into the room. “I look smart?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. Maybe, uh, what is it… nerdy.” The sound of his heart beat thudded in his ears.
A disbelieving laugh came from Hollander. “Nerds are smart.”
Ilya shrugged. “Okay.”
Hollander rolled onto his side, which shifted him closer to Ilya. The air left his lungs as if he took a hit into the boards. “I missed you.” Finally, Hollander met his eyes, and Ilya wished that he went back to looking anywhere else. The pain in his chest flared.
“You didn’t,” he insisted as he shook his head.
“I did.”
“Then what took you so long to decide to talk to me again?” He pressed his lips together as if more questions would come out that Ilya didn’t want to ask.
“I was scared. I still am.” Hollander’s bottom lip quivered. “I’d like to talk about it.”
Instead of saying anything he just nodded, the muscles in his jaw jumping. He couldn’t do this, his heart already hurt. “We should sleep.” He took a breath and moved so he was facing away from Hollander again.
After a minute Ilya listened as Hollander got out of bed and went into the bathroom. The sound of the shower didn’t surprise him because he in there not too long ago doing the same. Ilya took a deep breath trying to not think about how he could probably knock on the bathroom door and have Hollander right now.
***
Operation Apple Sauce
Svetlana: Any updates?
Harris: Well, Ilya didn’t come knocking at our door to sleep in our room
Troy: And we never got a text from him either
Troy: Did anyone hear anything?
Rose: Nope, silence from Shane.
Harris: Maybe Ilya or Shane slept in their car.
Rose: Shane would not, he’d be horrified of what it’d do to his back
Svetlana: It’d be more like Ilya to find someone to sleep with
Troy: I’ll see if I can find out tomorrow
Rose: Have a good first day!