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“C’mon Hollanderrrrrr” Troy tugged at his jersey, begging him to come out to celebrate them clinching a Playoffs spot.
“Hollzy, Hollzy, Hollzy” started chanting across the locker room, every player jumping up and down.
“Oi, be quiet. No pressuring my husband to do anything he does not want. He is very old, very boring. We love him that way” Ilya tried to shut them up.
“Oh cmon Roz not you too.” Haas gasped as if he was personally offended. “You have to come, you scored the winning goal”.
“Of course I did, not surprise” Ilya shrugged, earning himself a playful shove from Boodram.
“You should go, you’ll have fun” Shane whispered to him as he took his gear off. “I’ll go home, take Anya for a walk and see my parents before the roadie”.
Ilya looked divided. “You should come. Even if you don’t break diet, or party. I want you there”. He spoke at a level he knew only Shane could hear, parts in Russian to really lock others out of the conversation.
Shane made eye contact and saw how serious he was. “I could..”
Ilya nodded and smiled encouragingly, holding his hand out. “with me?”
Shane took a deep breath. “alright”
“HE’S COMING” Ilya cheered, joining the team in jumping up and down to celebrate.
Shane shook his head, unable to contain his laughter. They all got ready to go out, putting on nice outfits they’d packed specially incase they made the playoffs today. Dressing specially meant different things to each man. Ilya, always the diva, wore a barely buttoned shirt with tight trousers which made Shane stare at his body more than usual. Shane wore the blue button down shirt that he wore to everything. He was comfortable and Ilya said he looked cute so the outfit worked.
The whole team descended onto a quiet Ottawa bar for dinner and drinks. They felt safe there, out of the way of the hockey fans and tourists.
“What do you want, lyubimyy? I go” Ilya asked, pointing at the bar.
“Get me what you’re having” Shane smiled, acting normal.
“I’m drinking. You drinking?” He double checked. The table listened and erupted into cheers once again when they watched the man confirm.
Ilya smiled and left the bar.
Lily 💞:
sorry
should not ask so loud
i can get you no alcohol if you want?
Jane:
It’s fine
I want to drink
Lily 💞:
ok if you’re sure
Shane reacted with a thumbs up emoji and put his phone away. Conversation moved onto game debrief and hypotheticals about winning the cup. He could participate in the gossip about how injured or tired the other teams were looking as he was a nerd for those reports.
Ilya sat beside him again, handing him his drink. “They can do your salad with no cheese, no flavour on salmon. I ask her” he pointed at the waitress. “She said they do it for you.”
“It’s fine. Wanna share?”
“I am not eating rabbit food, zayka.”
“No, I want what you’re having. Some of it anyway.”
Ilya’s eyebrow raised. “Okey.. I get steak, fries and mac and cheese with broccoli on the side. They cook broccoli in oil” he spoke as if he was warning.
Shane nodded, “I’ll share it and get us extra fries and salad on the side.”
Ilya softened, realising he was serious. “Sounds good” he kissed his husband for a second or two. Long enough to make the rookies complain.
Ilya threw ice at them in retaliation, putting an arm around Shane’s chair. They ordered and the whole table locked onto how Hollander was loosening up.
“It’s not off season yet, Hollzy. Thought you ate like a god until the finals were over, like its superstition” Hayes spoke first.
“Wanted to share with him. Bored of salmon” He shrugged like it was no big deal. It really was a big deal since the team had seen him eat ‘unhealthily’ less than 10 times.
Ilya pulled a surprised face at Troy behind Shane’s back, since he didn’t think “bored of salmon” was possible for Shane. Ilya had gotten bored of salmon before they were even married.
“Well I’m glad you came Hollander. You’re a huge part in why we are celebrating tonight. We’d never be making the playoffs without Ilya moving to Canada for you. And without Ilya we’d never have had you” Young started a toast to Shane which turned into a toast to ‘being the gayest team in the league’.
The food arrived and the table went quiet as everyone inhaled their meals at speed. Ilya and Shane unequally split their meal into two. Ilya ate a lot more than Shane but they both had a bit of everything.
“I can see why you get this, it’s really good” Shane pointed at the steak. Ilya smiled proud of himself, as if he cooked it.
“I knew you’d like it.” he kissed before feeding him a fry.
The conversation resumed once the plates were wiped clean. They were taken away by the staff and the second round drinks were ordered.
“I’ll be back in one minute” Shane excused himself to the bathroom before the second round of drinks. He hadn’t drank in 8 months by this point so his tolerance was pretty embarrassing. A double shot of Russian vodka with no mixer had him stumbling a bit when he stood up but he kept it together.
He made his way into the bathroom and noticed his clothes were fitting tight. He’d had a big meal, he figured. It was pretty normal to bloat after that much salt. His knowledge of nutrition kept him well versed in his body’s reaction to foods. He knew to avoid much dairy, and artificial colourings. He had figured steak and chips was alright. Not healthy by any means but not full of too many empty calories.
Once he sat back down with Ilya, he had loosened his belt by two holes and rearranged his shirt so that he looked less bloated. He hid his insecurity knowing it was unjustified for a man as physically fit as him to be shy over a full stomach. He was not used to seeing himself that shape.
“Okay?” Ilya asked, pouting for a kiss when he came back.
Shane returned the kiss and agreed. “all good. You got another round?” he pointed toward the new glass.
“Same again. If you want water, you can put in my glass.” Ilya held it out incase he wanted to pour it out.
“No, no. Thank you” he sipped the vodka. “Is this a good one?”
“You tell me” Ilya let him guess.
“It’s not as good as the one at home” Shane tried.
Ilya smiled wide and kissed once again. “Khoroshiy mal'chik.”
Good boy. Correct answer then, Shane assumed. He listened into the tables conversation, having to ask Ilya to catch him up.
“Nick wants to propose, rookies want to help. Bood giving inspirational marriage advice.” he summarised, waving his hand as if he was making a very long story a short one.
Shane tuned back in and listened silently, sipping the vodka. His mind wandered and he thought about the time before he proposed to Ilya. Planning it, making sure it was perfect before watching his reaction. He could tell Ilya was thinking the same as he reached for his hand wordlessly.
“Hollander?” He heard and he snapped out of it.
“Hmm?”
“How did you know you were ready? To marry that idiot?” Troy asked, pointing at Ilya who looked fake offended before listening expectantly.
“I’d been ready for a while.” Shane shrugged. “The plane.. made me realise I couldn’t live without him. But I wanted to do it before then..”
Ilya kissed his shoulder and squeezed his hand. “I did too. He stole my proposal. Made it all safe and boring but it was perfect”.
They kissed again, making the rookies groan. “They never stoppppp” LaPointe cried.
Luckily the conversation moved along so Shane could go back to observing from afar. His stomach was twisting in a way he didn’t trust. His body operated like clockwork. He always went to the bathroom in the morning so cramping now was out of the blue. He decided he was just bloated, he’d overeaten slightly and just needed to wait it out. He was 30, for god sakes. He couldn’t go home from the party for a stomachache at 8pm.
He stifled a couple burps behind his fist whenever the table was loud. He thought he got away with it but his husband had eyes on the back of his head for spotting when something was up.
“Good?” Ilya poked his thigh and tried for eye contact.
“Uh huh..” Shane replied as if he was on a mission.
“It is loud here, I know. We go?” Ilya checked, making sure he got eye contact this time.
“No. Really it’s fine” Shane smiled the fakest grin at him. His words were not matching his eyes but Ilya knew better than to fight him when he was being stubborn.
“Okey.. tell me when.” Ilya sat back in his chair, downing the rest of his drink before calling the waiter for another.
As the hours passed, Shane decided his stomach needed a release. A couple of players made their way outside for a cigarette so Shane followed for ‘fresh’ air.
“Can I-“
“No” Shane finished, knowing the Russian was desperate for a cigarette.
“But your clothes will smell like it anyway, you are in smoking area” Ilya gestured to the small courtyard which stank of smoke.
“And I want your lungs will live to see another day, so no” Shane shook his head. The summer breeze was making him feel slightly better but the gravitational pull in his stomach wasn’t doing him any favours.
“Hold my drink, I’ll be back in a minute” He handed his drink to Ilya, hoping that acting as his personal cup holder would keep him away from the bathroom.
He hurried subtly into the bathroom and locked himself in. He knew what he had eaten didn’t agree with him but what happened in that tiny stall was not a reaction Shane was used to.
He moaned under a shaky breath as his stomach emptied in the least graceful way. He prayed no one would come in, especially no one who knew who he was. If news of this made it to the locker room, or worse the press, he could never show his face again.
While he was alone, he tried to get as best relief he could. He pushed and squeezed his stomach, hoping to relieve himself of the gas that filled his stomach. He knew he had taken a risk tonight but hadn’t expected it to be this bad.
After what felt like forever but was actually 10 minutes, his phone beeped.
Lily 💞:
where are you
you are not drunk sick already are you?
light weight hollander
i should come??
Jane:
No, I’m good.
Stay where you are.
Order me a Sprite
He put his phone away and started the mission toward feeling clean.
His trousers fit slightly better than they had prior, and his belt didn’t dig in as much. His outfit was back to looking flattering so he hoped that was the end of that. Surely after that ordeal he was empty, and could go on with his night?
He washed his hands and made his way back to Ilya. His husband knew something was up. Shane didn’t drink soda. He drank alcohol in the form of beer, or shots, or ginger ale and water. Sprite was saved for special occasions, or more appropriately named ‘emergencies’.
Ilya eyed his every move as he sat beside him. He pushed his glass toward him. “No ice” he showed him, watching his reaction.
“Thanks, baby.” Shane smiled quickly taking some sips. He was able to sit back in his chair more relaxed, less self conscious or uncomfortable.
What had happened in that bathroom stall was between him and God. No one else needed to know and it wouldn’t happen again.
“I ordered ice cream” Ilya whispered to him, resting his chin on Shane’s shoulder. He was definitely drunk, which made him more clingy.
Shane gave him a kiss but declined any more food. “I’m good..”
“It’s really yummy..” Ilya vowed, “I have it every time we come here”.
Shane kissed once again, to please him. “I’ll try a bit but I am pretty full”.
Ilya took that as a win and rested his forehead on Shane’s shoulder instead, seeking closeness.
The ice cream bowl arrived and the first spoonful was directed right at Shane’s mouth.
“I can feed myself, Ilya” He took the spoon from him.
“I want to see reaction” Ilya stressed and watched as the spoon went into his mouth. “Good?”
Shane nodded, pretty underwhelmed. He blamed the fact he wasn’t in the mood for it, and he wasn’t a big ice cream guy. “Soooo good, babe.”
Somehow that one spoonful was too much. The way it mixed with the Sprite didn’t fit right in his stomach. How had this gone so wrong twice?
He burped once more, his stomach uneasy and untrusting.
“Can we head home soon? Feeling pretty worn out” He admitted to Ilya, turning so that no one else could lip read or hear him.
Ilya nodded, wiping his mouth. “We go now. My card is on tab but Bood can close it” he put his coat on. “We are off. Love you all, proud of you all. Bag skates for anyone too hungover to score goals tomorrow. We have cup to win. Look after each other”. He waved with both hands to his team who all booed him, and held his hand out for Shane.
A man of less words, Shane waved as he stood to leave. “Well done today, see the strongest of you tomorrow. If you need help, call Boodram”.
They left to a chorus of “Bye Mom” and their assistant captain yelling “NO DON’T CALL ME PLEASE.”
In the taxi, Shane relaxed slightly.
“You okey?” Ilya frowned, spotting the change in his husband’s posture.
“I-I’ve upset my stomach. I’ll be fine… I just want to be in bed”.
“Upset how?” He reached over to comfort him. He put one hand on his forehead, to check for a temperature and another on his stomach.
“My dinner didn’t agree with me. It’s fine it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have had so many new flavours at once. My stomach is used to very plain meals..”
Ilya went to apologise but paused. “Since when?”
“About an hour. I’ll be fine. Just want some meds and a sleep. It’s been a long day” he reached to hold his husband’s hand. He hated worrying him.
Ilya’s anxiety around sick people went way back. The memory of finding his Mama had him wincing at vomit and the use of medication.
“I’ll be fine, baby. I promise” Shane reminded, feeling pretty worse for wear.
Ilya kissed his forehead. “I’ll help. You don’t need to hide from me”.
They made it home and Shane headed right upstairs. Ilya fetched him a ginger tea, the bottle of Pepto Bismol and a hot water bottle. Once he was upstairs, Shane was in the bathroom.
He waited on the bed for him, hugging the hot water bottle to comfort himself some. Shane came into the bedroom, shirtless in some shorts.
Ilya smiled sympathetically. “Bad?”
Shane nodded, weak. “I haven’t had an upset stomach like this since school…”
Ilya pouted at him and held out the cup of medicine. “You can have two. Down it, like a shot”.
Shane didn’t, knocking it back slowly as he took deep breaths. He had both cups before sipping the tea. “Hmmm.. that’s good. Thank you, baby..”
“Is okey. Happens to me all the time, never you. You are more careful. You always help me, I help you back”.
Shane kissed his forehead again. “I appreciate you. Who’s this?” He pointed at the hot water bottle animal in Ilya’s lap. He looked like he didn’t want to hand it over.
“It’s warm, for on top of your belly if your muscles are sore” Ilya presented the warm elephant shaped hot water bottle to him.
Shane laid out like a starfish with the elephant across his hips and a cool cloth on his forehead.
“I’ve been taken out by steak and chips..” He was embarrassed.
“My sensitive, special, boring husband can only eat greens and fish” Ilya stroked his arm gently, seeking touch.
“Wanted to live a little.. celebrate with everyone. I didn’t eat much more than anyone else.”
Ilya shook his head, agreeing. “Less than me”.
“No offence, but that’s not difficult” Shane chuckled, regretting it when his stomach cramped.
Ilya knew it was true. “Are you puking?” he asked, a little apprehensive. His nursing skills were much worse if that were the case.
Shane denied. “No, not nauseous.”
“Oh… must be sick. You’re off your digestion schedule” Ilya rolled his eyes playfully, knowing Shane planned his days to the minute. Using the toilet was perfectly factored into his morning routine which would not be interrupted for anything - especially someone else beating him into the bathroom. An interrupted morning schedule was the most common reason for their ‘old married couple’ style fights.
“Stop..” Shane groaned, “this will take days to fix. My digestion won’t be right for ages..”
“My digestion hasn’t been right in about 20 years, Hollander. Pray for me” Ilya pretended to die on the mattress to make him laugh.
“I’d sympathise if you didn’t eat like a 9 year old who has never tried a vegetable”
“I have tried vegetable! An apple a month keep the doctor away” Ilya shrugged.
“The saying is a day. An apple a DAY” Shane reminded.
“Too often, I get bored”. Ilya smiled, proud he had distracted Shane slightly. Shane stayed in his starfish position, feeling relief. Ilya climbed into bed beside him. “You think you will be okey tonight?”
Shane hummed. “I hope so. I have to be empty now.” He rubbed his stomach, accidentally massaging some loose gas. He covered his face with the wet flannel. “I’m so sorry”
“Shane, we are married. Why are you hiding? I don’t care?” Ilya laughed. “I want you better. If it makes you feel better, keep doing it”.
“I am not doing that again” Shane froze up, not letting any more gas out.
“Your stomach will hurt again” Ilya reminded. “That’s what you always tell me.”
“That’s different..”
“Different how?” Ilya asked, his eyebrow cocked sarcastically.
“Different because you have a reason and I just ate the wrong thing”.
“It is same.. I want you to feel better. I do not judge” Ilya reached over to rub his stomach for him.
“I’ll fart all over you, stop” Shane wriggled and panicked. He moved Ilya’s hand over to his waist.
Ilya continued massaging a higher part of his stomach. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t care”.
Shane lost all energy to fight and let go a few more times before his stomach felt flatter.
“Did that help?” Ilya noticed his position became less rigid.
Shane had a sip of tea, and nodded silently as he did so.
“Good, it smells” Ilya tried to joke but Shane put his middle finger up at him.
“You said-“
“I know I did, I am joking. Joke! I love you.” he rambled trying to save himself.
“Love you..” he whispered, relaxed enough to sleep.
Ilya got into the bed around his starfish-ed husband and turned off the light. “Wake me if you need anything. Anything at all. I love you so much..” He whispered before kissing Shane gently.
“You taste like strawberry ice cream..” Shane smiled, eyes still closed as he was very sleepy.
Ilya smiled. “I’ve got you..”
Shane fell asleep and woke up in the night a few times. He had a close call or two, asking Ilya to bring him new pyjamas once due to a miscalculated fart but he woke up the next morning brighter than other members of the team.
“How are you feeling?” Ilya stroked his finger down Shane’s bare stomach. His abs were back in full glory, if anything sore from the nights activities. He wasn’t as pale and he trusted his gut to keep its contents inside.
“Humbled but alright. If I skip morning skate is everyone going to call me a lightweight?”
Ilya laughed, genuinely this time. “We could say family emergency?”
“You’re my family..”
He smiled, Ilya loved to hear that. “Well yes, but Aunties do not need to see me in crisis”.
“I can’t fake a Great Aunt in a crisis.” it felt morally incorrect even suggesting it. “Tell them my car broke down”
“But.. I drive you to practice?” Ilya pointed at himself, not understanding.
“You’re right.” Shane held his head in his hands. “Just whatever you do, do not tell them the truth”.
Ilya left for practice and Shane lay on the sofa closest to the bathroom while watching reruns of Friends.
His phone read 12 o’clock when the team group came alive with get well soon messages. He could have killed Ilya, so embarrassed that the whole team knew about his ordeal. He hoped he left out particular moments when recounting the night. He never wanted to relive that again.
He was angry until he received a final message.
Lily 💞:
i tell them you have migraine
they believed
no one said anything about last night
hope you are feeling okay solnyshko ❤️
you better be sleeping
i will bring home healthy lunch
good for bad tummy
promise i didn’t tell them !!
Shane’s chest relaxed instantly. No one knew. No one knew except Ilya who was being amazing about it. He was the luckiest man alive to have someone who cares that deeply that he’ll sit up
all night with him, even though he had early practice. He had rubbed his stomach with no negativity. He refreshed his cold flannel and hot water bottle multiple times through the night to keep him both relaxed and the perfect temperature.
Jane:
I love you
I am awake
Thank you baby
See you soon
❤️❤️
Lily 💞:
anything for you
ya tebya lyublyu
see you soon