#myshane

The book is held in the brass frame (also made by yours truly) by friction; it pops out super easily so you can read it but it’s not going to fall out accidentally.

The typeset fit into exactly one piece of normal 8.5x11 printer paper, and if anyone else wants the file to make their own evil amulet, I’m happy to share.

"You could just say it," Shane suggests with a wry smile. He prefers to be told things bluntly and clearly, even when the topic is uncomfortable.

"Right. Things haven't been great between us lately, have they?"

Shane straightens, stomach clenching. He wants to pull his hand back, but Brian is still holding onto it tightly. "I guess so," he agrees reluctantly.

Brian's not about to break up with him, is he?

It would be ideal timing, Shane recognizes distantly. The season is over, he'd have all summer to get over it before he's back on the ice. Or maybe next week would have been better, after the MHL awards in Vegas.

"I think part of the problem is we have so little time together," Brian says, pulling Shane's mind back. "We get frustrated in our time apart, and we take it out on each other."

That's not true, Shane wants to say. Brian's always the one to snap, the one to escalate a disagreement into a fight. But even as he's thinking it, Shane knows he's not being fair. They have different styles of communication, and Shane's bottling up of his emotions is no better than Brian's explosive anger.

"We've also been together for so long," Brian continues. "And I'm afraid we might have fallen into bad patterns."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

The words burst out of him without permission. Shane feels stupid and childish as soon as he's said them.

"Oh, babe," Brian says, squeezing his hand tighter. "Of course not. I love you and I want to be with you."

Relief floods Shane. He manages to give Brian a wobbly smile, which Brian returns, raising Shane's hand to his lips and kissing it.

"I was just thinking... how would you feel about opening up the relationship?"

Shane blinks. For a long moment, he doesn't understand what Brian is saying. It's such a foreign concept to him, a thing he knows other couples do but he never would have thought he'd need to consider.

"What?"

"I think it would be really good for us," Brian says. "Your schedule is so crazy and we can't always line up our free nights. I think this could really take the pressure off for when do find time to be together."

This must be a nightmare. "You want to fuck other people?"

"I want us both to be able to enjoy new experiences. It wouldn't mean we love each other any less. It would just be sex, no strings attached."

"I don't -" Shane's voice catches in his throat. He feels vaguely nauseous. "Are you tired of me?"

Brian pulls back his hand. "Of course not. Jesus, Shane, don't be so close-minded. I know you're surrounded by hockey people all the time and it's a really conservative culture, but open relationships aren't anything unusual. Most of my gay friends are in ones."

"They are?"

"Yeah. And if anything, it brings them closer together."

Shane can't believe he's considering this, but. He's still not over the shock of thinking Brian was about to break up with him. That the person he's been with his entire adult life, the person who's loved and supported him since before he was drafted, could be gone from his life just like that.

If Shane says no, will Brian just break up with him anyway?

"We can try it out," Shane says cautiously. "But I'm not sure - I don't know if I could sleep with someone else."

Briefly, inexplicably, Rozanov flashes through his mind. Shane's heart jumps and he chases the thought away.

Brian gets up, rounding the table to pull Shane in for a kiss. "You're so sweet, but don't say yes just for my benefit. This could be good for both of us. You should at least try."

"...Okay."

Shane can't say he's comfortable with the idea. It feels too much like cheating. But then, he wasn't exactly comfortable with sleeping with Brian at first, either, and that turned out to be one of the best decisions of his life.

Brian smiles at him fondly, stroking Shane's cheek with his thumb. "If it helps, you can think of it like practicing for a game."

The implication sits sour in Shane's gut but he ignores it. Brian's just trying to put it in terms Shane will relate to.

Brian stays the night. Once he's gone, having given Shane a lingering kiss goodbye, Shane pulls up his phone.

He scrolls down to Rozanov's contact. It still feels wrong, but Brian hasn't just given his blessing. He's explicitly encouraged Shane to seek someone else out for no-strings attached sex and if there's one person Shane knows is reliable for it, it's Rozanov.

Besides, it's not like Shane's swimming in other options.

Shane keeps this firmly in mind as he types out his message, ignoring the way his stomach twists in anticipation. He's not excited about this, he reminds himself. This is just an experiment, something he's doing because it will please Brian.

Could we meet up at the awards in private?

His phone buzzes a couple of minutes later with Rozanov's reply.

if you promise not to be a sore loser when i win mvp 😈

+

"She was at the game, wearing your jersey" Hollander says. His cheeks have gone faintly pink. He brushes past Ilya, pausing in the entryway to take off his shoes. "I just figured."

"Jealous?"

"Kind of," Hollander says, but before Ilya can feel too satisfied about that, he adds, "I mean, Brian doesn't really like hockey but. It'd be nice to have the option to invite him."

Not even remotely what Ilya meant.

Then Hollander's statement sinks in.

"Doesn't like hockey?" he repeats incredulously. Is the man aware that he's dating Shane Hollander? "What do you even talk about, then?"

"Fuck you, I like things that aren't hockey."

"Name one."

Hollander glares at him. "I'm not entertaining that."

Which gives Ilya an excellent opening to keep poking fun, but he's more interested in another line of query. "What does your boyfriend like, then? Fucking," he waves his hand, "stocks, or whatever?"

"Not really." Hollander settles on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest. "He's in finance because he's good at it, not because he's passionate about it. He likes baseball, though."

"Ah. So he's boring, this is what you have in common."

Hollander straightens one leg, kicking Ilya in the side. "Did you invite me here just to chirp me?"

"Yes," Ilya says, catching Hollander's foot when he predictably tries to kick him again. He squeezes it once before letting go. "You should be honored, I gave up a guaranteed chance of getting laid for this."

Hollander freezes. "But - you said she's not your girlfriend."

"She is just a friend," Ilya confirms. "But we fuck sometimes. I don't really do relationships."

"I've noticed."

"You've been stalking me in the tabloids?"

The comment is said quietly, and it takes Ilya a moment to parse what it means. He grins.

"Fuck off, no I haven't." Hollander clears his throat, looking off. "Hockey players like to gossip, it's impossible to avoid hearing about you."

Ilya hums, not sure if he believes him.

"Would you want to be in a relationship?" Hollander asks, surprising him. "If you met the right person?"

Ilya shrugs, uncomfortable. "Maybe. I haven't met them yet, so is hard to say."

He looks at Hollander across the couch to find him already staring back. Hollander flushes, caught, but doesn't look away.

It feels like a lie, even if it's not meant to be. Ilya can't picture himself in a relationship, can't picture a partner at least, but thinking about it sparks an ache deep in his chest.

The silence stretched between them, and for once in his life Ilya has no desire to fill it.

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