Chapter Text
“Hollander! Are you listening?” J.J. asked.
No, Shane was not listening. His ears had been ringing ever since Hayden had suggested the team use his cottage for their weekend getaway. The weekend getaway that had been at their coach’s insistence as some sort of weird attempt at bonding over the summer while they were in their off season.
He could have throttled Hayden for putting him up for it.
And yet, Shane had been a good captain and nodded his head and forced a smile. “Sure,” he had said. Of course the team and their wives and girlfriends were “more than welcome” to come stay with him for three days.
Sometimes, Shane really hated playing into that polite Canadian image. It got him into more trouble than it was worth.
“So, it’s okay if we get there Friday afternoon?” J.J. pushed.
“Yeah!” Shane replied like an obedient dog. “Sounds great.”
“Does this mean we’re finally going to meet this mysterious boyfriend of yours?” Hayden asked, sounding a bit annoyed. Hayden was upset that, as Shane’s best friend, he had still not met his significant other.
What Hayden did not know was that there was a very good reason he had not met Shane’s boyfriend.
And that was because Shane’s boyfriend did not exist.
“Oh, I’m not sure—”
“Shane.”
He had not meant to let the lie get this out of hand. Really. Truly.
It started over a year ago when Shane had come out as gay, unable to hide who he was from his team any longer. He had been terrified to do it, and forced himself to be relieved when most of the guys seemed to accept him, even if it was not in the most enthusiastic manner. There had been a couple of unsavory looks and impolite comments here and there since then, but his teammates recognized that he was still the best captain in the league and they needed him if they wanted to win another Stanley Cup.
Shane would take it. He knew things could be worse.
He had been pleasantly surprised when Hayden and J.J. started asking him about his dating life— of which, there was none. Shane went out and tried to enjoy casual sex as much as he could, but the truth was that he found it a bit too disheartening. He wanted something serious. He wanted a boyfriend. And his two teammates had actually been willing to help. They set him up on more dates than Shane had ever expected to go on in his life. However, after months of this and absolutely no connections made, Shane realized that Hayden and J.J. were easily the worst matchmakers in the world.
And so, Shane told a lie.
He told the team that he had met someone. He told them that they had an immediate connection. He told them that he asked the man to be his boyfriend after only one date.
Shane had been dating this fake man for nine months now.
He explained to everyone that said boyfriend was private, and Shane could not, would not jeopardize their relationship by letting anyone know any personal details about him. All his team needed to know was that they were in love.
The explanation appeased the majority of the men because they did not want to bother to actually learn the details of Shane’s gay life, but Hayden and J.J. made it their mission to mention the man almost weekly, begging Shane to finally introduce him to them.
“Uh,” Shane trailed off, looking around to all the prying eyes around him.
The weekend was supposed to be for the players and their partners. It would be weird if Shane’s boyfriend of almost a year was not there.
Still, how on earth could Shane just magically acquire a boyfriend in two weeks’ time?
No, his mind begged. Say “no.” Make up an excuse.
“Yeah,” Shane said slowly. “Yeah, he’ll be there."
Hayden thumped him on the back. “Yeah, man! Cool!”
“Cool,” Shane echoed. “Very cool.”
Fuck.
Shane needed to find a boyfriend. Fast.
“Wow,” Rose mused. “You’re an idiot.”
“Not helping,” Shane muttered, dropping his forehead to the table in a dramatic display of surrender.
“Okay,” Rose said, patting him lovingly on the head. “This is fixable, though. I mean, hello? I know plenty of actors. What do you need? What’s your type? You’ve never even told me. Cute and nerdy? Meathead? Tall, dark and handsome? I can ask Miles to do it.”
Shane lifted his head back up. “What? No. I can’t ask one of your actor friends to pretend to be my boyfriend. That would be so mortifying.”
Rose shrugged. “What other option is there? Plus, they can be discreet, you know?”
“Yeah, but if I ever see them at one of your parties afterwards I won’t be able to look them in the eye,” Shane complained.
“Okay, so what do you suggest?” Rose wondered.
Shane sighed deeply. She had a point. “Casting” someone as his boyfriend was almost a failsafe option, as long as he could handle the humiliation that went along with that. “Maybe you’re right. Would Miles go along with it?”
Rose snickered. “Yeah, I think we both know he would.”
Shane suddenly felt nauseous. He liked Miles. And he was very attractive. But Shane did not want to lead the man on. That would just make him feel even worse about the whole situation. “I don’t know…”
Just then, the door of the bar swung open, bringing a warm breeze with it. Shane inhaled sharply as he watched former Boston Raider, Ilya Rozanov waltz into the room. “God. As if this night could get worse.”
“Hey!” Rose said, sounding offended.
“Sorry,” Shane replied. “It’s just… It’s Rozanov.”
Rose turned to look at the man and grimaced. “Oh. yeah. That is bad… Listen, I’ll be right back. I have to pee. Whatever you do, don’t make eye contact with him.”
“Wasn’t going to.”
Rose squeezed his hand and made her way to the bathroom, leaving Shane alone. He watched as Ilya made his way over to the bar, and Shane quickly hid his head in his phone. The last thing he needed was for Ilya to see him and—
“Oh my god! Are you Shane Hollander?” a young woman shouted, running up to him.
Shane nodded and made quick small talk with the fan, hoping that no attention had been drawn to him as he took a selfie with her.
No such luck.
He looked back over to the other side of the bar and saw Ilya stand up and saunter over to him.
“Fucking hell,” Shane whispered to himself.
“Shane Hollander,” Ilya said in that thick, Russian accent. “What are you doing here alone?” He looked at the drink in front of him at the bar. “Are you drinking ginger ale?”
Shane did not even bother to deny it. He knew what Ilya would say next.
“Oh, Hollander, you are so boring,” Ilya smirked. “You never change.”
Shane wished that Rose would hurry the fuck up.
He and Ilya Rozanov had a complicated history, at best.
The two had been reluctant rivals starting as far back as their rookie seasons— Mostly a fabricated story as it was easy for sports commentators to pit them against one another. But the narrative was not entirely wrong. Ilya had loved intimidating Shane. And Shane had loved beating Ilya. He would never admit it, but Ilya had made him a better player. Every single time they had gone face-to-face on the ice, Shane had felt an exhilaration unlike anything else he felt with other opponents. It was as if all the time he dedicated to training was worth it simply because he got to go up against Ilya Rozanov, the only person he was never embarrassed to lose to.
That was until Ilya’s career-ending injury two years ago. Many people assumed Shane had been quite relieved to no longer fight for his spot at the top of the leaderboard any more, but that was not true at all. Shane felt such an immense guilt over the fact that he was able to continue to play while Ilya could not that he felt nauseous just thinking about it. Nothing about it had been fair. Shane knew that a knee injury like that could happen to him at any moment as well. It had simply been bad luck.
Shane often wondered just how much Ilya hated him for being able to live out his dream. Every time they ran into each other, it seemed that he took great delight in belittling Shane. A part of him could not even blame Ilya for it.
“What are you even doing in Montreal?” Shane wondered. This was pretty much the last place he had expected to see the man.
“I was doing commentary for the game last week,” Ilya shrugged. “You did not know this?”
He returned the shrug. Of course Shane knew that Ilya did commentary. His quick career change had been quite the headline. It was always in the back of Shane’s mind, despite trying to forget it lest he stew in even more regret that he was on the ice and Ilya was not. His friends and family often told him just how harsh Ilya’s commentary was on him, but Shane never bothered to listen to any of it. He knew it would just mess up his game. “Right. Yeah, of course.”
For some reason, Ilya decided to sit down next to him. “Too bad about the season, huh? Embarrassing for you.”
Shane scoffed. “Boston lost too.” The Stanley Cup was going to the New York Admirals this year.
Ilya nodded. “Hm. Yes. But they lost 2 to 1. You lost 4 to 1. Far more humiliating.”
“Okay,” Shane relented, seeing Rose walk back from the bathroom, ending a phone call and smiling.
“Great news,” Rose said, looking down at her phone and not paying attention to the scene in front of her. “Miles is down to pretend to be your boyfriend—” She stopped as she saw Ilya peek out from behind Shane and wave at her. “Shit.”
Shane felt his whole body go numb. He could practically feel Ilya smiling next to him.
“Your what?” he asked.
Shane stared daggers at Rose who mouthed an apology. He did not even care that Rose had effectively outed him to Ilya. He cared that Ilya had heard the words “pretend” and “boyfriend” in the same sentence." Ilya was a dick, but he was definitely not homophobic. Shane remembered when Scott Hunter had publicly come out and Ilya had only taken the time to rib him about his hypothetical hip replacement working against his stamina in the bedroom rather than the fact that Scott would be in said bedroom with a man.
“My nothing,” Shane responded. “It’s not important. I thought I needed a favor from a friend, but as it turns out, I don’t.”
Ilya rolled his eyes, clearly not believing him. He signaled to the bartender. “I’m staying. I must hear this story.”
“Well,” Rose began. “I should go…”
Shane grabbed her hand. “Are you serious? Don’t leave me with him,” he whispered.
“I’m so sorry, babe,” Rose apologized, keeping her voice down so Ilya could not hear them. “I have to be on set at six in the morning. Just… make something up. Say you needed a model for a photoshoot or something. Rozanov won’t know the difference.”
“What’s the point of being an actress if you suck at lying?” Shane asked her.
She kissed him on the cheek and ran out of the bar. “Good luck.”
“So strange you two used to date,” Ilya mused, sipping a beer.
Shane felt his face grow hot with embarrassment. Yes, Shane had attempted to date Rose for two months when he was in the closet and trying to convince himself that he liked women. It was not his proudest moment. He hated that the whole world knew about that. But mostly he hated that Ilya Rozanov knew about it as well, and could use it as more ammunition to make fun of him.
“Yes, well,” Shane began. “It clearly did not work out.”
“Hm,” Ilya mused. “Yes. And now you are gay and looking for a boyfriend? A fake boyfriend?”
Shane contemplated just standing up and leaving. He doubted that Ilya would follow him asking for more details. “It’s… just for a photoshoot,” he supplied, using Rose’s lie.
Ilya raised an eyebrow at him, challenging Shane to be honest.
“I’m not going into detail,” Shane tried.
“Hollander,” Ilya tried. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll just assume the worst. Or, I will tell everyone online that you are looking for fake boyfriend—”
“Fine,” Shane breathed out, feeling so nervous he thought he would vomit. “Look, if you tell anyone I said this I’ll deny it. But… the guys are coming to my cottage for the Fourth of July weekend.”
“U.S. holiday,” Ilya interrupted.
“Yeah, I know,” Shane huffed. “Believe me no part of this story will make any sense whatsoever.”
He watched as Ilya’s mouth lifted slightly, as if he wanted to smile at Shane’s lame attempt at a joke.
“And,” Shane continued. “Everyone is bringing their significant other.”
“Ah,” Ilya said. “I see. You feel embarrassed that you are big loser with no boyfriend.”
Shane clenched his jaw. “No. I… I may have told everyone that I already have a boyfriend. They’re expecting to meet him.”
Ilya laughed loudly. “Hollander! That is funny. I didn’t know you could be funny.”
Shane turned away from the man and picked up his drink. For once in his life, he wished he was wasted. Maybe then he would have thought the whole situation to be just as hilarious as Ilya did.
“Okay, so you need boyfriend,” Ilya continued. “That is simple enough.”
“Sure,” Shane laughed sardonically.
“This Miles guy seems willing?” Ilya pushed. “What is the problem?”
Shane was struck by how weird the conversation was. He was sitting with his former so-called-rival, and though Ilya was teasing him, it did not seem as if he wanted to use the information to ruin his life. “Look, we don’t have to discuss this. Why don’t you go back to your friends and tell them how utterly pathetic I am. Have a nice little laugh about that.”
Ilya almost looked offended at this. “You think I’m an asshole?”
“I know you’re an asshole,” Shane corrected.
“So, you will ask Miles to do the job then, right?” Ilya reiterated.
“Uh,” Shane panicked. Yes, he supposed he should just use Miles. He did not feel good about it, though. “I’m not sure.”
“Why?”
Shane hated to sound egotistical about anything other than hockey. “I think Miles might… enjoy it too much.”
Ilya narrowed his eyes at him. “He likes you?”
“Not in any serious way,” Shane corrected. “I just think he wouldn’t mind… sleeping with me.”
“And you do not want to sleep with him?”
“What’s happening here?” Shane interjected. He waved his hands in between the two of them. “We are not friends. Why are we talking about this?”
Ilya smirked at him once again. “This is the best thing I’ve heard all week, Hollander. I’m very intrigued.”
Shane pushed out his chair and stood up to leave. “Goodbye, Rozanov—”
“Wait,” Ilya grabbed his arm. “You need a boyfriend.”
“Yes,” Shane sighed.
“You need someone who is not attracted to you… Maybe even someone who does not particularly like you,” Ilya continued.
“Yes,” Shane agreed reluctantly. “I suppose so.”
“Use me,” Ilya said as if he was suggesting that Shane order a Coke instead of ginger ale at the bar next time.
“Wh—What?” Shane spat out. He could hardly believe that even Ilya would be that cruel.
The determination on Ilya’s face was telling a different story though. He did not look devious, or like he was suggesting the most absurd solution possible just to get a reaction out of Shane. Ilya looked like he was serious.
“What?” Ilya repeated back to him, pretending that what he was proposing was completely normal. “I am hot. I am bisexual. I do not like you as person. I am perfect fit.”
Shane was awestruck. He almost felt a weird kinship with Ilya for moment. “You’re bi?”
Ilya nodded as if Shane should have known that information already. “Seems unfair to only let women fuck me, yes?” He pointed towards his body as if he wanted Shane to picture what was underneath his clothes.
Despite how ridiculous the suggestion to use Ilya was, Shane considered it for a minute. It would be helpful to pretend to date someone he had absolutely no feelings for other than annoyance. But it was still an impossible fix. “No. There’s no way the guys will believe we are together. And besides, they hate you.”
“Many people in Canada hate me,” Ilya provided. “So, what? This way it will make sense why you didn’t tell them about this fake boyfriend of yours.”
Shane hated that this was starting to sound even a tiny bit reasonable. “I can’t just spring that on them.”
“Okay, tell them beforehand,” Ilya replied.
Why the fuck was Ilya so determined to make this work? “And what’s in it for you?” Shane wondered.
Ilya sucked in a breath and waved his hand dramatically. “I think it will be… funny.”
“You’re going to make me look a fool,” Shane guessed.
Ilya did not deny it.
Shane sat back down in his seat. “That’s not all though, is it? Why would you want to do this? We’re not going to be talking game strategy if you think you can get some sort of insider information out of us.”
“Please, Hollander,” Ilya dismissed. “You overestimate my allegiance to my former team. I would not go back to them with Montreal’s strategies.”
Shane somehow knew that was true.
“Okay. Fine,” Ilya huffed. “I do not want to go back to Russia yet.”
Shane knit his eyebrows together in confusion. “Then don’t?”
“I won’t!” Ilya responded childishly.
“Okay, jeez,” Shane said. “So… you don’t want to go home.” He watched as Ilya flinched at the word. “And you’d rather spend your time with me, at my cottage, pretending to be my boyfriend?”
“You’ll pay me right?”
Shane laughed loudly. Ilya Rozanov was not one to be desperate for money. Even as a retired player, he still made millions a year as a celebrity commentator. “Like you need it.”
Ilya pursed his lips. “I don’t know. I could buy a new television or something.”
Shane squared his shoulders. “Let me get this straight. You want to help me out with this… incredibly humiliating task simply because you’re bored and don’t want to go home for the summer just yet?”
Ilya nodded. “Da.”
Shane felt light-headed. He was still unsure why he was even entertaining the idea. But he was desperate. He needed a boyfriend. And Ilya was right that the team would readily believe that Shane had not told them about said boyfriend because he had once been the captain from a competing team. The lie worked out quite nicely.
“We don’t know anything about each other, though,” Shane stated, still looking for a way to forget this night had ever happened.
“What is there to know?” Ilya asked. “You live boring life as boring hockey player. You can tell me your favorite color or whatever later. I’ll memorize it.”
“You’re serious,” Shane realized. “You’re actually serious.” He blew out a breath. “Wow.”
“What is worse that can happen?” Ilya wondered.
Shane could think of many terrible outcomes that could occur from agreeing to this.
“Come on, Hollander. Don’t be—”
“I’m not boring,” Shane interrupted him. He felt a small rage bubble up inside of him. He wondered if he should say yes just to prove Ilya wrong. “Maybe—”
“Shane!”
He turned to see Hayden walking towards him with a smile on his face that dropped the second he saw Ilya.
Shane wondered if this was the only bar in Montreal.
“Be cool,” Shane whispered to Ilya as he greeted his friend.
“Rozanov,” Hayden said coolly, nodding at him. “What are you doing here?”
Ilya simply rolled his eyes.
“He was doing commentary,” Shane provided. “You know that.”
Hayden narrowed his eyes, but nodded. “Right.”
“Uh, what are you doing here?” Shane shot the question back to him. It was unlike Hayden to go out late these days since Jackie was postpartum and unamused with him staying out past ten at night.
Hayden sighed. “Jackie was craving the pizza from this bar, and this bar only. I’m just picking it up and heading back home.” He continued to glare at Ilya as if he could somehow make the man disappear with his mind. “So… you two were just… what? Catching up?”
Shane knew how this looked. Hayden had always disliked Ilya— mostly because Ilya had been a dick to everyone he went up against, but also because Ilya had been a much better player than him. And there was Shane, Hayden’s best friend, seemingly acting chummy with the man. “Oh. Yeah. Kind of…”
“Honey,” Ilya said, reaching for his hand and making Shane’s heart stop. “Tell him the real reason we’re together. You might as well.”
Shane was ready to kill him. He glanced at Hayden who was furrowing his brows in confusion and Shane prayed the ground would open up and swallow him whole before he had to respond.
It was too late. The damage was done. Ilya’s hand was on top of his own. Hayden knew that Shane had a secret boyfriend.
“Ha,” Shane breathed out, hoping that was enough of a reply. “Um… I… Uh…”
“You’re Shane’s boyfriend?” Hayden asked Ilya. The venom in his voice was hard to miss.
Shane felt his whole body grow hot.
“Guilty,” Ilya said. “Now you know why Shane wanted to keep me a secret.”
“Yeah,” Hayden agreed slowly. He turned to Shane and widened his eyes as if to say: Please tell me this is a joke.
The excuse would not even work now. Shane felt as though he had only one option. He looked at Ilya who was staring at him with a shit-eating grin.
Shane took a deep breath. “Yeah. Ilya and I… are together.” He almost added a “surprise” to the end of the sentence as if that would make the situation less awkward. Ilya, no doubt taking pleasure in everyone’s discomfort, casually moved his hand up to Shane’s hair to run his fingers through it. It took everything in Shane to remain completely still.
“Shane,” Hayden said patiently as if he was speaking to one of his children. “Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?” He nodded to an empty corner of the bar.
He nodded and quickly followed his friend to a secluded section of the room.
“What the fuck is going on?” Hayden asked, immediately slapping Shane’s arm.
Shane knew he had two options: come clean to Hayden or play along with Ilya’s lie. He hated that the latter seemed to be the better of the two. “I know this seems crazy—”
“That’s the understatement of the century!” Hayden laughed maniacally. “Rozanov? How long has this been going on?”
“I told you!” Shane said, feeling weirdly defensive. “Since… September.”
“Rozanov is the guy you’ve been seeing? This whole time?” Hayden seemed to be hellbent on giving an Oscar-winning performance. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“I’m… not,” Shane admitted, looking over to where Ilya was smirking at him at the bar, sipping his drink like he had just won a bet.
“Did you…” Hayden paused and composed himself. “Did you fall and hit your head? Are you feeling okay?”
Shane was not an actor. He was not even good at lying. He was unsure why he had allowed himself to get into this position in the first place. He drew his lips into a tight line and nodded. He knew he was just going to have to wing it. “This isn’t quite how I wanted to tell you.”
“No shit. He’s our enemy, Shane.”
“He hasn’t played against us in years.”
“Doesn’t matter!”
“Look, Hayden. I’m dating Roz— Ilya. I know you hate him, and I get that, but, just give him a chance. I think you’ll realize he’s not that bad. The way he acts… it’s just a cover.”
As Shane said the words he wondered if there was any truth to them. He could have slapped Ilya for the way he went about it, but Shane supposed there was something almost nice about the way the man wanted to help him out with his stupid lie. It did not matter what Ilya said about not wanting to go home to Russia, there was truly no reason for him to do this.
Hayden looked conflicted, but unable to find any more words to express his disgust. “Okay… I mean, I trust you, man. You know I trust you more than anything. But—”
“I know,” Shane interrupted.
Hayden shook his head as if he was trying to get rid of the image of Shane and Ilya as a couple and then put on a brave face. “The guys are going to give you a much harder time than I am. Doesn’t matter if you’re captain.”
Shane closed his eyes. “Yeah.”
“Good luck, dude,” Hayden said. He grabbed his order and walked out of the bar without even waving goodbye to Ilya.
Shane took a deep breath and walked back over to his “boyfriend.”
“What was that?” he exclaimed, pushing Ilya a bit too hard on his shoulder. “Now I have to pretend that it’s you!”
Ilya seemed quite amused by the whole situation. “Relax, Hollander. I did you a favor. You’re welcome.”
Shane groaned. “This is… such a bad idea.”
“What is?” Ilya wondered, trying to sound innocent.
“I cannot tell the guys I’m dating you,” Shane said, mostly to himself.
“You can.
“I can’t. This is ridiculous.”
“Hardly.”
“Rozanov.”
“Hollander.”
“This is so stupid.”
“Just say yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Fine,” Shane blurted out. He almost slapped his hand across his mouth, wishing he could take back the last five seconds. Why the fuck was he agreeing to this?
For all this pestering, Ilya actually looked shocked that Shane agreed. “Great.” He pulled out his phone and handed it to Shane. “Put your number in. Send me the address to your cottage. I’ll stop by a day or two early.”
Shane wondered why Ilya felt comfortable enough to order him around. “I don’t—”
Ilya pointed to the phone. “Number. Now.”
Shane obeyed.
Before he could even realize what was happening, they had exchanged numbers and tentatively planned to meet up two days before the Fourth of July in order to learn "everything” there was to know about one another.
Shane was so incredibly fucked.