Chapter Text
🎶I'll Tell You One Thing, It's Always Better When We're Together🎶
The glare of the morning sun grew too bright to ignore, warming the plush of their blanket until the cool mist of the dawn had completely burned away. The dock, which hours ago had been a cathedral of flickering candlelight and shadowed intensity, was home to LED candle shells and magical memories.
Shane shifted slightly, the movement lazy and fluid, his skin still humming with the ghost of Ilya’s touch. He felt grounded, the heavy, anchor-like weight of Ilya’s arm across his waist acting as a tether to reality. It was a strange, beautiful existence.
"Good morning,” Ilya murmured. His voice was a low, sleep-roughened rasp against the back of Shane’s neck. “I love you.” He didn't open his eyes, instead tucking his face into the curve of Shane’s shoulder, inhaling deeply as if memorizing the scent of sun-warmed skin and cedar.
Shane let out a soft huff of a laugh, turning within the circle of Ilya’s arms to face him. “Good morning, moy lyubov. I didn’t realize you were awake yet,” Shane murmured. The light caught the metal of the wedding band on Ilya’s finger, a bright, defiant spark in the morning glare. "I’m starving, and I think we both need a monumental amount of coffee."
Ilya finally cracked an eye open, the blue remarkably clear despite the exhaustion written in the faint shadows beneath his lashes. A slow, lopsided smirk tugged at his mouth—the one that used to drive Shane crazy on the ice, but now only made his heart ache with a steady, quiet heat.
"Coffee is good," Ilya agreed, his thumb tracing a slow, absentminded circle over Shane’s hip. "But coffee is for people with a schedule. We have no practice. No flight. No one needs us to do anything but this."
He paused, his gaze drifting over Shane’s shoulder to the sparkling expanse of the lake. The world felt vast, open, and for the first time, entirely theirs to navigate.
"I still can’t believe the gift the girls gave us last night. The candles, the fireworks, you. That was a great start to our upcoming anniversary," Shane said softly, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from Ilya’s forehead. "We actually do have to decide where we’re going for our next adventure, though. As much as I want to stay right here forever, the world is a lot bigger than this dock, Ilya."
Ilya hummed, a deep sound of contemplation. He pulled the blanket tighter around them, unwilling to let the morning chill or the outside world intrude just yet. "Somewhere warm," he decided firmly. "Somewhere where the sun stays up as long as we want it to."
🎶On an Island in the Sun, We'll be Playing and Having Fun. And it Makes Me Feel So Fine I Can't Control My Brain🎶
The sun climbed higher, turning the lake into a sheet of hammered gold as they lay tangled together on the dock. The conversation drifted naturally from the forever they had promised to the more immediate future: their second honeymoon.
Ilya shifted, propping himself up on one elbow as he watched a leaf drift lazily across the water. "The Maldives," he said, his voice firm with a conviction that usually preceded a game-winning goal. "Shane, I have seen the photos. The residences at the Raffles are built so far out over the water that you forget the rest of the world exists."
Shane let out a soft, huffed laugh, his fingers tracing the patterns of sunlight on the blanket. "You just want the glass floors and the aquarium views when you walk, Ilya."
"Yes. Is not untrue. But I also want peace," Ilya countered, his thumb tracing a slow circle over Shane’s palm. He spoke of the hyper-exclusive resort he’d found, describing the private residences with a sense of wonder. He was particularly obsessed with the glass floors, imagining aloud how they could watch the reef life and the silent glide of sharks right beneath their feet while they ate breakfast. For Ilya, it was the ultimate sanctuary—a place where the ice was thousands of miles away and the only thing they had to focus on was the blue of the ocean and each other.
"It sounds breathtaking," Shane admitted, turning onto his side to meet Ilya's gaze. "And it’s very you. High-end design, privacy, and animals everywhere."
"But?" Ilya prompted, sensing the hesitation in the line of Shane's shoulders.
"But I’m still pushing for a return to Ibiza," Shane said, a bashful grin tugging at his lips.
Ilya arched a skeptical eyebrow. "We were just there for first honeymoon, Shane. You want to see the same island twice?"
Shane let out a mischievous laugh, his eyes lighting up with a wicked glint that made Ilya’s heart skip. "That’s the thing, Ilya—we didn’t actually see Ibiza. We spent about ninety percent of that trip locked inside the suite, not that I’m complaining." He paused, his expression turning playful as he leaned in closer. "We were a little... occupied? You know how it is. It takes a lot of focus to keep the peg in the hole." He gave a pointed, rhythmic squeeze to Ilya's hand. "And I really want a chance to actually see the island this time. And this time, we will use a private jet and really plan out our trip. We make sure that we have a schedule, but also still make time for your peg to find the hole that belongs to it, maybe?"
Ilya barked a laugh, the sound bright and genuine in the morning air. He shook his head, looking down at his husband with a mixture of exasperation and pure, unadulterated adoration. The negotiations were far from over, but as they lay there in the quiet of the Ottawa Valley, it didn't really matter where they landed. Whether it was over a glass floor in the Indian Ocean or back in a familiar suite in the Mediterranean, they were going to be together.
🎶Smell the Sea and Feel the Sky. Let Your Soul and Spirit Fly Into the Mystic 🎶
The sun was fully over the trees now, turning the morning into a brilliant, warm invitation. Shane rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish as he finally broke the stalemate.
"I have a confession," he started, a bashful grin tugging at his lips. "I haven't just been thinking about Ibiza. I’ve actually been... working on it. I have the flights blocked out and a suite held at Hacienda Na Xamena for the end of the month. I wanted it to be a surprise, Ilya. I just wanted to handle the logistics, so you wouldn’t have to stress about anything before we left."
Ilya stared at him for a long beat, his expression unreadable, before he let out a low, disbelieving huff of a laugh. He reached into the pocket of his discarded hoodie nearby and pulled out his phone, tapping the screen a few times before turning it toward Shane. "You are kidding me. I have the deposit down for the Raffles in August. I was doing the same thing—trying to keep details away from you so you could just show up and exist."
They both stared at the conflicting itineraries, the irony of their shared secret sinking in. They had spent a decade coordinating their lives in the shadows, and now, even in the light, they were still perfectly, hilariously in sync.
"So," Shane said, his eyes dancing as he looked at the dates. "My reservations start about two weeks before yours..."
"Maybe we don’t choose. Maybe we go to Ibiza first," Ilya decided, a wide, genuine smile breaking across his face. "We do your island, then we go to mine."
🎶Yo Quiero Estar Contigo. Vivir Contigo, Bailar Contigo. Tener Contigo una Noche Loca🎶
The plan solidified with the ease of a perfect cross-ice pass. They spent the next hour tangled under the blanket, mapping out a second honeymoon filled with pure indulgence. Shane admitted he was already plotting surprises for their time in the Mediterranean. He spoke with newfound excitement about actually leaving the hotel room this time—hiking to Dalt Vila to see the historic stone walls at sunset, wandering through the ancient salt flats, and taking a boat out to see the Torre de ses Portes.
"We are going to Cala Comte for the water," Shane insisted, ticking boxes off on his fingers. "And I want to spend a day at Las Salinas. Maybe even Es Cavallet if we’re feeling adventurous."
"And the music?" Ilya asked, nudging Shane’s shoulder. "You mentioned the clubs."
"I want to take you to Glitterbox," Shane said, his eyes bright. "And maybe one night at Pacha. Just to dance where no one is looking for a scandal."
Ilya hummed in approval, already mentally pivoting his own plans. If they were starting in Ibiza, he could use the ten-hour flight to the Maldives to keep Shane pampered before they hit the glass-bottomed villas. He started scrolling through his phone again, his mind racing with ideas for private dinners on the sand, surprise hot air balloon dates, and twilight snorkeling trips to see the reef sharks.
"A month of this," Ilya whispered, pulling Shane back down against his chest.
"Not a month exactly, but…long enough, yeah? It’s going to be amazing" Shane agreed, tucking his head under Ilya’s chin.
They lay there in the quiet sanctuary of the dock, wrapped in the blanket and the golden morning light. As they watched the lake sparkle in front of them, the excitement for the journey ahead—from the historic heights of Ibiza to the turquoise depths of the Maldives—settled into their bones. They weren't just planning a vacation; they were planning the first of a thousand adventures, grounded and content in the knowledge that no matter where they landed throughout their lives, they were exactly where they were meant to be.