"Do you ever think about what your life would be like if you never met me?"

Ilya's head snaps up, brow furrowed. His hand pauses on Shane's ankle.

"Like, at least,— I don't know, if I had never introduced myself that day in Regina." Shane looks at Ilya, earnest and seriously considering. "Then none of—," he gestures between the two of them, "—this would have happened. And things might have been easier for you. Us. Probably."

Ilya doesn't move. Scowls more.

"And we wouldn't know what we were missing, I guess, so," Shane's voice is quieter now, timid, realizing he might have misstepped. "I was just wondering. If you think about it ever."

They stare at each other for a moment. Then Ilya throws his phone onto the cushion beside him and scrambles into Shane's lap, laying heavy accross him and gripping him tight. Ilya nuzzles his face into Shane's chest as though he's trying to carve out more space in his body to burrow into. Shane's arms wrap around Ilya instinctually, his fingers finding the nape of his neck and twirling the curly hair there. He holds Ilya like this, thinking he probably would know what he was missing if he never had this. Somehow, inexplicably— he's sure he would.

"Don't you ever fucking ask any stupid fucking shit like that ever again," Ilya grumbles into Shane's t-shirt.

Shane huffs out a laugh in surprise, then sighs when Ilya just holds him tighter in response.

"Okay," he whispers into Ilya's hair. Seals it with a kiss.

They lay like this for a couple of minutes, Shane running his fingers up and down Ilya's back, Ilya breathing heavy on top of him. After a bit, Ilya looks up, props his chin on Shane's chest, wide-eyed and pouting. Shane all but whimpers when he realizes Ilya's eyes are a little red.

"Say you're sorry."

"I'm sorry, Ilya." He leans down to kiss his waiting lips. "I won't ever ask any stupid fucking shit like that ever again."

Ilya reaches up for another kiss, lets this one linger a bit. Softly nudges his tongue into Shane's mouth, then pulls back, just slightly.

or Yuna comes home from grocery shopping and five year old Shane is climbing onto the counter to grab different groceries and putting them away.

Shane using the kitchen drawers as steps, standing on counters to reach the upper cabinets. he was always careful with whatever loot he had grabbed, but when it came to his body he would throw himself to the floor and stand back up with no comment.

Whispering sweet little things while he’s gently riding him, rocking his hips back and forth and telling Ilya how beautiful he is, how kind and strong he is. How much he loves him.

Because during The Long Game, Ilya decides not to tell Shane because it’s not his secret to tell, and Shane has to find out eventually, right? Wiebe says something like “I’m sure Ilya has told you that I understand a little bit about your situation.” And Shane is thinking like, what, you definitely don’t, you were a mid player at your absolute best. But eventually Wiebe gets the point across and it goes, I think, one of a couple different ways:

One: Shane HATES this information and tries to memory hole it immediately. Shane has had a complicated psychosexual attachment to every hockey coach he’s ever had, which is fine because hockey coaches are straighter than God. Even though both Shane and Wiebe are in happily married monogamous relationships, finding out that it’s actually hypothetically possible for a coach to experience reciprocal attraction to him is the worst thing that’s ever happened.

Two: Finding out that Wiebe is bisexual pushes Shane over the edge into having a meta-textual breakdown. Shane: “It’s fucking ridiculous. It’s absurd! We’re already the gayest team in the league. The gay married team. And now we have a gay coach?” Ilya: “Lubimiy, he is bisexual, do not make me ask Harris to give another PowerPoint presentation on bisexual erasure.”

The coach takes him to the video room and puts the DVD in, "There's a kid in Russia, same age as you. They're saying he's the next Gordie Howe."

He presses play and they watch a shaky video of two Russian teams. Shane's heart starts racing as he watches. He can immediately tell who coach is talking about. One of them is clearly faster and smarter than the rest, moving through the defense with a slick confidence that Shane immediately finds fascinating.

"His name is uh," coach digs though a pile of paper, "Romanof or something." He finds what he's looking for, "Ilya Rozanov. He'll be draft eligible the same year you will."

Shane feels that same sense of determination, terror, and joy he always feels when one of his coaches talks about him getting drafted like it's a forgone conclusion. He keeps watching the kid on the ice, the same age as him, and very good, and also already set for the draft.

His play style is fascinating, and when his shift is over Shane grabs the remote to fast forward to the next time he gets on the ice, wanting to see more.

His coach laughs and claps him on the shoulder, "Don't worry about him too much. You won't be playing him for a couple of years."