Work Text:
They were on their second road trip of the season, and Shane was on edge. He was usually on edge these days. Following their wedding, he had lived a whirlwind summer of moving, and the camps, and interviews, and fast tracking Ilya’s immigration, and adjusting to a new team, and through all of it, what felt like every single person on the face of the earth having an opinion on Shane’s existence. He had given up trying to manage it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t constantly at the front of his mind. Shane had everything he had ever wanted in life and he was on edge and he felt guilty about it.
It had kept him and Ilya in separate rooms for their first roadie. Shane was determined not to create an avenue for even more opinions. Every night on that trip, Shane would lie alone and sleepless, wracked with the mounting anxieties of every life change he had just experienced. Like clockwork, heart-thrumming, he would usually give up around 2 am. Using the key card Ilya insisted he have, he’d let himself in and slip into his bed, his thoughts only slightly calming once Ilya’s sleepy arm made contact around his torso.
After ten days of bad sleep, all of his team’s insistence, and Harris getting a room with Troy when it was decided he’d be joining them for this trip, Shane had given in. As he lay there, enjoying their rest day in San Francisco wrapped up with Ilya guilt-free, Shane admitted to himself that this was definitely better.
Shane was drifting in and out on his favorite spot on Ilya’s chest, his phone across the room on mandatory Do Not Disturb. Ilya, far less affected by any opinion he may stumble across online (and often antagonizing opinion-havers in comments sections) scrolled aimlessly until he let out a surprised “ah!”
“Hmm?” Shane questioned, lifting his head. Ilya turned his screen to Shane, open to a text from Harris in a group chat with the two of them, to show a cheesy Canva graphic.
“What does that even mean?” Shane asked.
Ilya shrugged, typing with one hand to Harris that they would be there. “Guess we will find out soon.”
Shane didn’t know what to make of Harris and Troy. While he was grateful Ilya had other gay players in the organization last year, he didn’t know how to interact with them. For most of his time in the league, Shane knew Troy as every “phobiic” and “ist” under the sun. Shane supposed he stopped experiencing it first hand from Troy around 2018, and he had heard extensively from Ilya in the last year about all the ways Troy had changed. Troy had nothing but kindness and apologies for Shane since he joined the Centaurs, but with everything happening in their lives, Shane didn’t feel he had had the time yet to sort his feelings about Troy.
And then there was Harris. Bright, colorful, enthusiastic, completely confident Harris. Most other queer people Shane had been around so far were hockey players at the end of the day, spending their lives in a sport that rewarded humility and assimilation. Frankly, Ilya was probably the loudest queer player Shane knew. Passionate in everything he did, Shane thought that was more an extension of his personality than his sexuality. That being said, in every way Shane had been riddled with anxieties in the last few months, Ilya seemed to thrive in the freedom of no longer having to hide. It was a private comfort to Shane, knowing for all their troubles, he was getting to see life poured back into Ilya.
Harris though, Harris struck the same nerve in Shane that Fabian did, where Shane felt he often spoke a completely different language than Harris. Harris seemed to know an entire world attached to their shared sexuality that Shane couldn’t even conceive of. For every year of his life Shane had spent protecting and hiding himself, Harris had lived it loudly. Still though, Shane was grateful for Harris. He was grateful for the tone Harris set throughout the organization, and was endlessly grateful that the person in charge of so much of their media was as understanding as Harris. Shane didn’t have to brief him on just how many innocuous comments about “stick handling” and ‘locker room dynamics’ actually needed to be deleted. He didn’t have to reason to Harris why he and Ilya might not want their marriage to be front and center on the organization’s socials right away, no matter how much engagement it got. And despite how different they were, Harris seemed to be determined to befriend Shane no matter what.
This was what Shane reminded himself, as they stood outside of Harris and Troy’s hotel room a few hours later. Shane shifted nervously, and Ilya ran a hand over his back. Ilya pursed his lips in question, and Shane gave a quick glance up and down the hall, before pressing into the kiss. They were interrupted by the door being thrown open, and Shane jumped back as if he had been caught in something.
“Hi gays!” Harris cheered, greeting them without acknowledging anything. Harris’s chipper demeanor, and Troy, who was albeit less energetic but seemed content as he offered Shane a fist bump, instantly soothed the some of Shane’s nerves.
As they stepped inside, Luca walked in behind them.
“Harris, what is this?” Luca asked. “Why did you send me an image of a dog that just said ‘I know what you are’ with a time and this room?”
Ilya’s jaw dropped. “Why did we not get a dog invite, Harris?”
Harris motioned for them to follow properly into the hotel room.
“He was afraid he’d scare you off if he told you we were having an emergency gay meeting” Troy rolled his eyes at Luca. “I’m sorry if it ended up coming off like a ransom note.’
“Uhhhh, I don’t know which option would worry me less,” Luca muttered as he trailed behind.
“Harris, please, what is going on?” Shane asked, his nerves rising again.
Harris paused, waiting for all eyes to be on him, and then started dramatically.
“We are here today because all of you are not very good at being gay.”
Shane officially started panicking. Ilya would joke about that, but that was just Ilya. He was trying to learn all the unspoken rules and lingo, but had he offended Harris? Was he not being a good teammate or advocate? He anxiously turned to Ilya, looking for shared concern, but instead found him amused. Luca looked equally as confused though.
“Here we are, with an off day in a gay ass city, and Ilya is the only one who asked me about my plans tonight!”
Ilya grinned. Troy rolled his eyes. “Babe, just tell them we are going out, you are scaring them.”
“Ok yes, sorry” Harris said, bringing himself down a level. “All of this is to say, I want to go out to The Castro with you guys. And I know you don’t always love going out, but I thought it could be fun with our smaller group here, in spaces where you can just be yourself.”
Shane’s brow furrowed. “The Castro?”
“Gayborhood here” Luca supplied. “And why didn’t you just say that Harris? I’m in!”
Harris shrugged. “I was trying to have fun! But don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson.”
Ilya looked expectantly at Shane. “Solnyshko, do you want to go?”
“Oh um, you should go with them, you would have fun,” Shane said. That was absolutely Ilya’s scene. Shane hardly knew what to do with himself in normal bars, not to mention the added component of it being a gay bar.
Ilya shook his head. “I am a newly married man, I will not be seen in the clubs without my husband. I’ll stay here if you don’t want to go.”
Harris sighed dreamily. “As much as that messes up my plans, that is so sweet.”
Shane was torn. He didn’t want to hold Ilya back, but he had no idea what to expect, and the idea sounded terrifying. He had let Ilya take him to one of the gay bars in Ottawa over the summer, but it felt more like a meet and greet in his hometown than a nightlife experience. Reading his thoughts, Ilya gently took one of Shane’s hands.
“We do not have to go Shane, I would be very happy to have a quiet night with you. But this is not a hockey city, we will not be mobbed. Harris knows good places, nothing too crazy, right Harris?” Harris nodded. “I’ll be by your side the whole time.”
Luca and Troy were already excitedly discussing the night, and Shane felt a sudden pang for comradery. Surprising even himself, he nodded.
“Yeah,” Shane said. “Yeah, we can try it.” Ilya grinned, pressing a kiss to his forehead as Harris whooped in celebration.
“If we are going out, we are going to do this right,” Harris said. “Pizza and pregame, we get ready together, all the fun things.”
That was how Shane found himself negotiating shots with his little group in between pizza slices. Shane, newly therapised, knew his food habits were ground zero for his control issues. He’d cautiously turned a lot of his diet management over to Ilya, trusting him to get him the nutrients through safe foods, while still pushing Shane occasionally. He now gave Shane subtle encouraging back rubs as he split a gluten-free pizza with Shane without complaint, even though Shane knew he’d prefer the greasy monstrosity Troy was currently wolfing down several slices of.
Harris turned to Ilya as Troy washed his pizza down with a beer. “I guess this means I’m on duty tonight,” he quipped with a grin. “Maybe I should have gone in on that gluten free moment.”
“Do you want some, Harris?” Shane asked. He was used to his team ripping on his food choices.
“Oh no,” Harris laughed. “I think I need to tap out for the night with the garbage disposal going over there.”
Troy, mouth too full of pizza to protest, threw a balled up napkin at him. Harris grinned and smacked a kiss to his saucy lips.
Shane’s brow furrowed. Ilya leaned in. “They are talking about bottoming, Kótik, not everyone is as ah, regimented as you.” Shane blushed.
“How do you guys decide?” Harris asked him and Ilya, as casually as asking for a coffee order.
Shane’s pink tint turned crimson. Ilya spared him. “We are a little more set in our roles, and Shane takes his prep seriously” Ilya said nonchalantly.
“Really?” Troy’s jaw dropped. You guys are just both so, I don’t know, aggressive with each other. I thought it would be a competition of who tops every time or something.
Shane’s head was spinning. His whole life had been filled with locker room talk he couldn’t take part in. Any time a player did have something to say about him, it was demeaning and assumptive. It had never once been suggested to him that he would be the top, though Shane suspected that had something to do with racism more than anything, as Ilya got that treatment far less often.
Ilya shrugged. “Trust me, those roles are bedroom-only. He’s in charge everywhere else,” Ilya said smiling. Shane rolled his eyes.
“That’s so hot,” Luca said, instantly blushing when he realized he had said an inside thought outside.
“Wait-“ Shane said between bites. “Luca?”
“Yeah?”
“Harris called you gay. You know for sure?”
“Yeah?”
“Oh!I didn’t know about that,” Shane said.
“You didn’t?” All four men turned in the room to look at Shane. Shane’s brow furrowed. “You DID?” He said at Ilya in particular.
“Shane, you can’t possibly tell me you didn’t have any idea,” Harris laughed.
Shane shrugged. “I mean, I guess I wondered, but I never heard anything specific from Luca.”
Ilya turned to Luca. “Shane wondering is the equivalent of you being a walking billboard for boys kissing boys.”
“Ilya!” Shane snapped.
Luca nodded casually. “Yeah I mean I’m queer, probably pan but lables don't matter to me. But yeah I didn’t feel like I had to make a formal statement. I just figure if you can’t guess on your own, it’s none of your business.”
“Wait, you want people to assume?” Shane was mind blown. Luca shrugged. “I don’t really care what they do, I assumed you guys knew and the people I want to get with know and the rest doesn’t matter. I mean, no offense, but I don’t really want the attention you three got.”
Shane couldn’t really fault him for that, but the gears were still turning. The thought of not being able to set the record straight made his skin crawl, but then again, was he ever really in control of the conversation around him? The longer Shane thought about it, the longer he realized he was actually jealous of Luca, getting to just play hockey, live his private life, and causally share it with his friends without every outside voice weighing in. Shane swallowed back his envy, reminding himself to be grateful that others weren’t getting the same treatment as him.
“Right well, that’s cool,” he nodded. “Thanks for telling us.” Luca blushed, nonchalance gone in the face of praise from Shane.
After pizza, Shane let Ilya play dress up with him, as the rest of the group bopped along to upbeat pop music Harris and Ilya seemed to know. Troy and Harris groomed themselves in the bathroom mirror, as Luca sat in front of the vanity carefully arranging a shimmery past around his eyes. Shane had never seen this side of Luca, done up in a tank top that showed off his lean but toned arms, with a Vivian Westwood necklace around his neck.
Luca caught Shane staring in the mirror and smiled shyly.
“Can I give you some makeup, Shane?” Luca asked. The shimmer in his inner corners caught the light as he turned to face Shane. “I’ll make sure it matches your style, nothing too crazy.”
Shane was unaware he had a recognizable style, as he was in nice jeans and a loose-knit white mesh top from Ilya. He had been letting his stylist experiment a little more with fabrics lately though, and apparently the effort was showing.
“Uh, you can try,” he said. “Rose tries to give me eyeliner sometimes, but it never looks right with my eyes.”
Luca waved him off. “I know what to do for you.”
So Shane sat as still as he could as Luca swirled around him. “Ok, done,” he said, handing Shane the mirror attached to his eye shadow pallet. Instead of the thin liner that usually disappeared into his eyelid, Luca had drawn two carrots that pulled up from Shane’s lids and smoked them out with a dark color. It was simple, sharp, and angled. Shane, as self conscious as he felt, still liked it.
When he showed Ilya, Ilya loved it, devouring him in kisses. The sudden attention embarrassed Shane, but the three others just grinned, with a simple “Looks hot, Shane!” from Troy and a “You two are so cute” from Harris.
“Luca, you want me to take him out looking like this?” Ilya dramatically moaned. “How am I supposed to do anything but keep him in bed all night, everybody will want him.”
Shane blushed, feeling the same about Ilya. He wore a tight muscle tee, cropped right above his belly button, highlighting his narrow waist that was further contorted by his adonis belt and dark trail of hair descending into his tight jeans. Ilya, in a burst of self expression, had pierced his ears the minute he was out of the playoffs that summer, and loved sporting small blingy gold hoops that matched his wedding band. Shane was probably the only person on earth that recognized the set, but that was what it felt like everything Ilya did was: loud and flashy, and yet somehow still privately for Shane.
At the first bar, they found themselves on a rooftop enjoying the warm fall night. The group sat around a table, slightly awkward for never having this personality grouping before. Ilya and Harris quickly broke the tension, running a table-wide taste test of every boozy slushy flavor swirling behind the bar. After some heated debate, the group settled on the rosé one as the winner, and Shane sipped the tart concoction as he watched the group. Harris had a casual arm around Troy, and Luca was turning around to flirt with one of the men at the table next to them.
“Troy?” Shane asked cautiously, “How did you…get so comfortable with everything, with being out?” Despite his apprehensions, if Shane was being honest, Troy was the most like him out of their team. Shy, a bit socially awkward, but a powerhouse on the ice. He was still pretty bro-ey in Shane’s eyes, but just had a relaxed presence in this environment that Shane did not have.
Troy shrugged. “I just got tired of hiding it, I’m sure you did too.” Shane nodded. “And I know people are cruel,” Troy cringed. “I’ve been cruel too, but I guess because of that I realized the heat does not come from any valid place worth listening to.”
Shane nodded, turning the words over in his head.
“Shane, from a PR perspective,” Harris started. “I get you two are in a unique position. Way more eyes are on you than on us. But people will pick apart anything you do no matter what, and they were doing it far before you were outed. You have a lot of stress to deal with already. I know it takes time, but living your life how you want to live it shouldn’t be adding to it.”
Ilya gently fingered the hair at the nape of Shane’s neck,, keeping quiet. He had told Shane versions of this a few times, but for some reason, hearing it from Harris was an extra level of comfort.
“Can I ask a stupid question?” Shane said.
“No such thing,” Harris grinned.
“I feel like I’m behind in all of this. Like, you know all this culture and seem to hit it off with every gay person ever. I just don’t know how to speak that language. How did you learn it?”
“Shane,” Ilya said gently. “Being gay is not something you win.”
Harris smiled. “No, this has been a big concern of mine. You all know a horrifically low amount of gay culture. No one ever gets my references. Ilya is the only one of you that knows any good music, and don’t even get me started on your lack of film knowledge.”
‘What?!” Luca squawked, choosing that moment to turn back to the table. “What do you mean? Literally all the artists I listen to are queer.”
Harris sighed. “Luca, 17 minutes of haunting hurdy gurdy is not queer culture.”
“It’s an exploration of indulging in the pleasures society tells you are evil, that’s totally queer culture!” Luca protested. “And that’s not all I listen to. Besides, I’ve seen plenty of queer films! The only Sciama you’ve seen is Portrait of a Lady on Fire. And I’ve seen glee, which I’m sure none of these other three can say.”
Shane didn’t recognize a word out of Luca’s mouth.
”Hey, I have been meaning to!” Ilya complained. “I’ve been a little busy being gayer than everyone, and getting married.”
”Wouldn’t that make Shane equally gay?” Troy questioned.
Ilya shook his head “Shane doesn’t know the difference between Lady Gaga and Madonna so no. It cancels out. And I’m sorry if the only time I ever had to watch something the last few years was when I had entire team looking over my shoulder. ”
Shane was completely lost on the rules of these measurements, but he doubted he’d win in whatever fight this was.
“What about me?” Troy questioned. “I try everything you want to show me Harris, and I like a lot of it!”
“I know babe, you do,” Harris said, playfully reaching up to ruffle Troy’s hair. “But you still have a long way to go. My point is, between these two jocks,” Harris motions at Troy and Shane, “Your whole…you” he flailed a hand at Ilya “and your weird segmented Gen Z subculture" Harris nodded at Luca “We have a long way to go. I need to start a gay Centaurs bootcamp or something.”
“Sounds fun, but you millennials also could use some culture,” Luca quipped, pulling dramatic moans about ‘kids these days’ from the four older men.
“Okay well, first up,” Harris said, standing up. “We are finding a drag show.”
The next place was dingier, reminding Shane of the gay bar back home they had attended a few events at. Drinks were served in plastic cups and the floor was sticky under his feet. Ilya stepped away to the bar for a moment, and Shane followed the rest to a crowd around a small stage. Harris and Luca seemed to recognize the drag queens performing, but Shane took comfort in Troy also not seeming to know their names.
Ilya returned with a small stack of plastic containers.
“What the hell, are these Jell-O shots?” Troy asked, laughing.
Ilya grinned, handing them out. “Instagram said it is the specialty here.”
“How do I do this?” Shane asked Ilya.
Ilya popped the lid off and seductively licked all the way around his container, breaking the seal of the Jell-O, and then sucked the contents down without breaking eye contact. Shane did the same, his tongue knowing how to move before his brain did, automatically slowing down and drawing it out as he hollowed his cheeks to suck the lime concoction.
“Damn, Hollzy!” Troy hollered. “Roz, you are a lucky man.”
“The luckiest,” Ilya said, through heavy breaths. He held eye contact with Shane for a long moment, before grabbing his face and kissing him hard.
“Ilyaa!” Shane shouted as they broke apart, embarrassed by the sudden attention. He was definitely not used to his teammates making any sort of blowjob reference about him that was complementary. He had slowly adjusted to casual touches and soft hugs, having Ilya as an anchor in public spaces often feeling more important than the commentary that would swirl on twitter later, but Shane was still wary of anything more. He was a bit traumatized from the last time people caught them kissing on camera. Sue him.
Still though, everyone in the room was focused on the stage, and various gay couples around them made out far more fervently. Shane did a double take to realize Luca was already included in that mix. Shane breathed deep to steady himself, before leaning in to kiss Ilya again. Ilya immediately licked into his mouth, and the lime aftertaste in Shane’s mouth mixed with the cherry on Ilya’s tongue. Shane enjoyed it for a moment, before Ilya was the one to pull back.
“Okay, okay.” Ilya murmured into his ear. “No more jello shots for you, unless we are abandoning our friends for the night.” He wrapped his arms around Shane and turned them both to face the stage.
Shane didn’t know much about drag, and had only ever seen it in real life at a pride event in Ottawa that summer. He didn’t get to take it in though, overwhelmed by the attention on him and Ilya. He knew Harris and Luca loved it though, and that sometimes Troy and Ilya would watch episodes of a drag competition show with them.
As he watched, he was impressed with the athleticism. He was sure the dancing he was currently watching required stamina and assumed the wigs and padding were probably similar to hockey gear in how you had to learn to move your body with extra bulk. He enjoyed shutting off all of his anxieties for a moment, as he let Ilya sway him to the upbeat music and hoot and holler with the crowd.
After a few sets, Ilya took Shane’s hand to pull him out to the patio.
“Fresh air and water,” Ilya supplied. “You’ve had more action tonight than you have had in months.” Shane nodded, grateful for the caretaking.
Ilya handed a bottle of water to Shane with a quick kiss to his forehead, which was interrupted by an “oh my god.” Shane got used to that telltale exclamation from fans in sports bars and from dads in the grocery stores pretty early in his career, but the last few months had made it more of a wildcard of what followed. He also was banking on their group being anonymous tonight.
Sensing his discomfort, Ilya weaved a protective hand around his waist.
“You guys are like, the gay hockey guys, right?” A guy, who looked so young Shane questioned if he should even be there was looking up wide-eyed at them. He had a simple black tank top, chunky glitter in his inner corners, and costume jewelry pearls, looking like a less-expensive version of Luca’s getup.
“We are some of the gay hockey guys, yes.” Ilya spoke for both of them.
“No, like, you guys are together.”
“Married, yes,” Ilya beamed proudly, flashing his ring.
The kid nodded
“I just wanted to like, say thank you, for like, everything.”
Scott told them about how many thanks he always got, but that made sense to Shane. He was the first. He was historic and heroic. Shane was never expecting to get them,he and Ilya were just a scandal. But they were happening more and more. And Shane never knew how to handle it. And the kid was still rambling.
“Oh duh, congratulations on the wedding! or I’m sorry that happened to you guys. This summer was crazy, huh?"”
Shane snorted. “It was for us, yes.”
“My dad’s like, a total hockey fan. I don’t really care, no offense. Or like, I did care, and I liked it,but then I stopped playing because of all the other stuff that went with it, y’know?”
Shane did know.
“And my dad always gave me a hard time about it. And he’s kind of old-fashioned.”
The kid was rambling and Shane was trying really hard to follow him over the music and chatter around them.
“I’m from Cincinnati but he’s from Ottawa. So he totally lovesssssss you guys. So when he saw how everyone was talking about you, he was so mad, no cap, cuz like, I guess he thinks you guys are the best or whatever.”
Ilya grinned. “Some think that, yes” Shane elbowed him.
“Anyways. I think he was always lowkey a ‘keep politics out of hockey’ guy, but he was so mad after you got benched so I tried to talk to him about why the politics mattered, and then it turned into me talking about hockey, and then it turned into me coming out to him, and like he wasn’t perfect right away but I think having you guys in his mind really helped like, break stereotypes or whatever. So thank you, you really changed a lot for me.”
Shane was overwhelmed, trying to find something fitting to say that matched the intensity of what he was just told, but the kid was already waltzing off, content to just dump that on them and then disappear. Shane was lost in his thoughts until Ilya’s other arm wrapped around him, hand coming to ruffle his hair. There’s a lot he could have said in that moment, but the physical comfort was all Shane needed and Ilya knew that.
Through the last few months, through media and scrutiny and so so many intense stories of healing and trauma and coming out and “thankyousomuches” that were so sweet and yet so intense, Shane’s only remaining emotion he felt he could access easily was a gratefulness for Ilya experiencing every bit of it in with him. That at the end of the night when they shut their door and tuned the world out, the person processing it beside him was his person who not only saw the same things Shane did, but understood how it affected Shane better than Shane often understood himself.
So Ilya understood that now, while hearing that was so sweet, that it sometimes made the last few months worth it, in the moment this was more intense than anything. It was a reminder that wherever they went, there were people that saw them with a million labels attached, that for so many people they were meeting for the first time, the power implacable of the other person knowing so many intimate details about them before they even learned their names would forever remain.
Shane tried to relax on the patio after that, but he felt like a sitting duck. He watched as Troy and Harris danced along, making friends in the crowd. He watched as Luca effortlessly danced with another man, not a care in the world about optics. Shane breathed deep, trying to relax into the way Ilya’s arm around his shoulders pulled him into a sway, but was infinitely grateful when Harris finally suggested their next location.
Once they stepped into the cool night air, Shane was pleasantly surprised to realize he still had energy despite the sudden emotional intensity. He questioned that though, as the next place they arrived at was an unmarked black door on the side of a building, wildly different from the colored marquees that announced the previous two places.
Harris said something to the man smoking next to it that Shane realized was a bouncer, and they were whooshed inside. A fishbowl of individually packaged earplugs sat next to the cover charge attendant, and Shane followed Luca’s lead and grabbed a pair. He could already feel the thrum of the base the second the door opened, and it only grew in his sternum as the group descended the stairs. The room was exclusively lit by the blue and purple lights pulsing above the dance floor, occasionally being thrown around by a disco ball, but otherwise swirling above the heads of the patrons.
After getting drinks, Troy and Harris immediately found a spot in the crowd in front of the DJ, and Ilya led the two of them to a booth on the outskirts to watch first instead. From that distance in the room’s darkness, Shane could only recognize his friends by silhouettes. Troy and Harris bopped along together to the beat, occasionally kissing, but seemingly just enjoying each other’s company. Shane watched in awe as Luca hit the dance floor, looked ethereal, pulled another figure into his space, danced incredibly close to the man, and then was making out with him in the span of two songs.
He took comfort in the anonymity and pulled the arm Ilya had thrown loosely around him closer.
“Did you know Luca had that in him?” Shane asked Ilya.
“The gayness? Yes, Shane, I’ve been telling you he has a crush on both of us.”
Shane huffed.
“No I mean, the way he…”
“His sluttiness?”
“I don’t mean it like that” Shane groaned.
Ilya laughed. “He’s all shy around us, but yes. I gathered he does quite well for himself whenever he is willing to put himself out there.”
Shane let the rhythmic beat lull him into relaxation, settling even deeper into Ilya’s arms. He watched their teammates until they disappeared into the dark crowd, sucked further into the dance floor. Between the beat, the darkness, and the sensuality of so many couples around them, it all built up in Shane. He leaned further back into his husband, grabbing his face and kissing him deeply. Shane was feeling bold, and the minute his lips made contact, he was pulling himself up into Ilya’s lap. If Ilya was surprised, he did not show it, instantly matching Shane’s intensity and holding Shane closer. Shane let himself melt into Ilya, lips never quite breaking enough to distinguish one kiss from the next. He kept going until he was hard and out of breath, pulling back to cool down.
“Wow,” Ilya breathed. “I need to take you to dark basements more often.”
Shane simply laughed, rolling back onto Ilya’s side and curling deeper into his arms. As they sat there, Ilya’s knee bounced to the rhythm.
“You want to dance,” Shane said, matter-of-factly.
“I want to be here with you”
“But if I wasn’t holding you back you’d want to dance.”
“You are not holding me back.”
“You know what I mean!”
“Ah, I get it,” Ilya teased. “You want to watch your sexy husband dance?”
Shane rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I was saying.”
“No, no,” Ilya said. “I get how it is. You want me to put on a show for you.”
Ilya popped up, but stayed directly in front of Shane, making his own dancefloor out of the seating area. He instantly melted into the music, massive body gracefully flowing to the intense beat. Shane watched, mesmerized, as Ilya found a way to sway his hips to the rapid electronic pulls, running his hands up and down his body suggestively. The blue light reflected off his sweaty exposed torso, deep shadows contouring Ilya’s body. Shane leaned back and watched. While he truly just thought Ilya would want to dance for his own sake, he was enjoying the show.
After a few moments of dancing in front of him, Ilya stretched his hands forward to Shane.
“Join me,” he called down.
“I don’t know how to dance!” Shane called back up, painfully aware of the awkwardness he exuded every moment he was off the ice.
“I know what your hips can do, I think you can,” Ilya teased, never once slowing his movements.
Shane huffed, surveying the room. His eyes landed on the table next to them, a solo man there hungrily watching Ilya. Heat flashed in Shane, and the spark was enough for him to accept Ilya’s hand.
Ilya pulled him to the edge of the dancefloor, and then immediately close to his body.
“Just feel the beat,” he said into Shane’s ear. Shane let his hands settle on Ilya’s waist, Ilya’s finding one spot on Shane’s hip and one on Shane’s ass. Shane tried to do what Ilya said at first, but felt he was a choppy beat behind his partner’s fluid movements. He buried his face in Ilya’s chest, embarrassed despite knowing hardly anyone could see him.
“Here,” Ilya said, flipping Shane around against him. His hands found Shane’s hips, and his jaw hooked over Shane’s shoulder. “Is like sex. Move with me.”
That clicked in Shane’s brain, and he gave into Ilya’s movements, grinding against him. Once he felt the flow, he instantly relaxed, the sensation of the pounding music moving through him. When Ilya rolled his hips into him, the wave flowed through Shane.
Shane rarely enjoyed loud music, sometimes even the area DJ in between plays was a lot. But here, this wasn’t something he was hearing, as much as something he was feeling, breathing, all-encompassing. The heavy pulls pulled through his body, driving the rhythm he and Ilya moved in. It was the backbone of all sensation Shane could perceive when he closed his eyes, and the way one song flowed into another was hypnotic. He was euphoric, getting lost in the sensations of it. It was an endorphin rush to move and sweat and become one with everything around him in a way Shane so often felt at war against.
Shane felt a grin break across his face in the dark as he pushed into Ilya, grinding against him. Ilya pressed a kiss into the sensitive part of his neck,causing Shane to throw his head back. Ilya trailed his mouth up Shane’s face, finding his lips, and using that point of contact to spin Shane around so their positions were reversed. Shane’s hands found Ilya’s hips, and Ilya arched back to run his hands through Shane’s hair. Shane let his hands explore, running them along Ilya’s hips, grabbing his ass, running a suggestive hand along his front. Ilya took that as permission to grind deep into Shane, pulling a moan from him that only Ilya could hear above the beat, with his ear pressed to Shane’s cheek.
Shane lost track of time as they moved as one like that, subtly grinding and edging one another, only pausing when their bursts of kisses grew too passionate to do anything but stand still. It was exhilarating to be here for Shane, in a crowd, freely and passionately expressing his love for Ilya, without a second thought of spectator, good or bad, there to give input. Shane only opened his eyes when Ilya stopped moving, to find Luca in front of them with a different man than earlier wrapped around him, peppering kisses all over his face. “Uh, we are going to get out of here, Cap,” he said. Shane was sure in normal light, Luca would be glowing red.
Ilya nodded in approval. “Be back for breakfast. And be safe!”
“Yeah, whatever Dad,” Luca called, being pulled away by his partner for the night.
“They grow up so fast,” Ilya said, mock-wiping a tear away. “I should have had him send me his location,” he said, slightly more serious.
Shane laughed. “He takes after you, club rat. He seems to know what he’s doing.”
Ilya huffed, pulling Shane closer. “Mmm, if he is the same as me, then he should know his future husband is probably at home right now reading boring hockey book, not going home from the club with hookups he just met.”
The title, just a few months old, sent a rush through Shane every time he heard it. He curled into Ilya’s chest, their heated grind from earlier slowing to something far too sweet for the techno club floor. Shane reached up to press a kiss to Ilya’s lips.
“Wanna get out of here too?” Shane murmured.
“Oh, so my husband is an easy club hookup after all?” Ilya leers, pinching Shane’s slides. Shane laughed, pulling away to let Troy and Harris know their plans. Ilya trailed behind him, calling out filth all the way across the club floor and up the stairs into the street.
They made out in the car back to the hotel like teenagers. It was moments like this, all the stress and anxiety and shame and lack of privacy, that it was worth it. Never again would Shane have to go home and get his fill of Ilya over Facetime for weeks on end. Never again would he have to sit lonely as his team canoodled with their spouses after a game, longing to proudly have his person next to him too, to have friends that understood the more intimate components of their relationship. Never again would he be anywhere with Ilya, he realized, and have to wonder what it would be like to be able to be free with his affection if that’s what he wanted.
Shane hung off of him all the way through the lobby, up the elevator, and Ilya throwing open their door. As they collapsed into bed, Ilya filled all of his senses as he stripped both of them down between kisses.
“I’ve wanted this for so long, sweetheart,” Ilya murmured between kisses, working his way down Shane’s torso. “Bringing you out with me, with my friends, dancing with you.”
When he took Shane in his mouth, Shane knew he wouldn’t last long. He was usually determined to prove Ilya’s jokes about being a quick shot wrong, but tonight he was at the complete mercy of Ilya’s mouth after grinding for hours.
As he fell over the edge, Shane babbled nonsensical “oh my god I love you’s”. Once his pulsing stilled, Ilya kissed back up his stomach until his face was level with Shane’s again. Shane moved to dip down to return the favor, but Ilya caught his shoulder. “Ah, no need”. Shane lowered his eyes to realize Ilya had already come against his leg while getting Shane off.
“Hmm-?” Shane questioned in his post-orgasm haze.
“You’re too perfect for me.” Ilya told him from where he had collapsed on Shane’s chest. “You’re too beautiful, all night, watching you was too much. I had no hope of lasting. I had too much fun with you.”
The pleasure of praise swirled with Shane’s thoughts as he lay there, Ilya’s finger tracing small patterns on his chest. That night, for the first time, Shane had seen a reality they could live in that had space for them to be completely themselves.