no effort is wasted

"So, how did you two meet?" That was fine, safe territory.

They both answered the same way, "a parking lot in Saskatchewan when we were 17."

But, the question, "so who made the first move?" Unsafe territory, turn back now.

"You introduced yourself to me!"

"That wasn't making a move! You organized a whole photoshoot."

"You shook my hand, twice! You looked me up and down!"

"I did not!"

"You had a crush on me."

"You had a crush on me!"

"You called me a hot player to watch."

"I did not and you know that, Rozanov."

"My English wasn't good."

"You - okay, draft night?"

"What about it? Oh, when you kept staring at my cock?"

"No! When you kept touching my hand and had your legs all spread in front of me!"

"You were staring at me."

"You winked at me."

"You took water bottle."

"Because you told me to!"

"Well, you were blushing on photoshoot."

"You called me pretty, twice!"

"You were laughing!"

"So were you!"

"Because you kept looking at me like - like that!"

"You told me you organized the shoot!"

"You agreed to it! You wanted to see me again."

"You starting jerking off at me in the shower!"

"Only because you were checking out my ass!"

"I was not!"

"Yes, you were! I would not do that if you were not checking me out!"

"You asked for my room number!"

"You waited for me to come out of the shower - I gave you time to leave!"

"I was drying my hair."

"You were waiting for me."

"I was not, I just wanted to talk!"

"Talk! You wanted to talk to hot Russian you invited to your room at night?"

"Yes!"

"You were on your knees in five seconds!"

He loves bringing Shane a warm towel, helping him wipe down. He loves massaging soap on Shane’s sore, but relaxed muscles in the shower. He loves bringing Shane a snack and feeding him by hand. He loves how boneless Shane goes, how snuggly and warm and carefree.

But he can't never shake the feeling of deep regret after each time. He remembers how, for years, he did not do this for Shane. He would let himself indulge just as much as he dared, laying in bed together for a couple minutes, sometimes showering together (but that always ended in shower sex), throwing a towel or clothes at Shane.

The first time he tried to provide the type of aftercare he wanted, was the day Shane left him for Rose Landry. Shane insists he didn't 'leave him for Rose Landry' because A. they weren't together and B. he met Rose weeks later. But since Ilya was the one that got left, he feels entitled to call it how he wanted to.

"I'm sorry," Ilya apologized one day, running his hand through a pliant Shane's hair.

"For what?" Shane mumbled.

"For not doing this," Ilya said. "For so many years. For just kicking you out."

Shane sighed and propped himself up on his elbows. "Ilya."

"What?"

"You never just 'kicked me out,'" Shane scrunched up his nose. Adorable. "If you had tried to do this at first, I probably would have freaked out."

"You did freak out," Ilya sulked.

"I did," Shane smiled and leaned up to kiss him. "I love this, you know? I love that you take such good care of me afterwards."

Ilya felt warmth spread inside his chest. "I'm glad."

"But," Shane caught his eye. "I didn't need it. You always took care of me, maybe just not this much. But I never felt, I mean, almost never felt bad afterwards, except, you know."

Vegas. They had talked about that, extensively.

"But, Ilya," Shane continued, cupping his face in his hand. "I don't think that I need this as much as you do."

Ilya considered this for a moment. It was true - this settled Ilya, it convinced him that he did well, he took care of Shane, and made him happy. He didn't hurt him.

"You don't need this?"

"I do," Shane said. "But so do you. So if you're sorry about not doing it, so am I."

"But, I am..."

"You're what?" Shane challenged.

David does it for the first time in front of Ilya when the boys are visiting and Shane and Yuna are planning (arguing) about something new brand deal.

He puts a song on the record player (Yuna has given up teaching him the Alexa), and he takes Yuna’s hand without a word. She protests that they need to plan out these contract terms and how his son is being difficult about it.

Shane starts to protest at that, but doesn’t get far until Ilya pulls him up to dance, too. A very embarrassed Shane goes willingly. He’s watched his father do this for years but never thought he would be pulled up to dance one day. From the fond looks from his parents, they probably didn’t either.

"Is your blanket warm enough? I'll go get another one."

"I will carry plates, go sit."

"Practice is optional for players, Shane, not captain."

And, look, Shane isn't one to lay about. He's up for morning runs, he attends almost every optional practice, he's meticulous about his work out routines. He's a top athlete and so is Ilya, they both work incredibly hard to stay at the top. Still, Shane doesn't have a problem with a lazy afternoon reading in bed, or a free weekend spent at his cottage, or a summer relaxing.

He notices that sometimes Ilya will startle, just a little bit, if Shane walks into the room when he's laying on the couch, scrolling through his phone. If Shane makes even the slightest request, Ilya is jumping to get it done there and then. He's the first one at practice and the last one to leave.

He will take naps with Shane, but he's always up before Shane, working out in the gym, doing their monthly calendar, adding things Shane likes to their shopping list that he wouldn't add, etc.

"Just sit with me," Shane catches Ilya's arm on his latest trip to the kitchen."

"I know, I will," Ilya covers his hand. "I just want to wipe down counters before your parents get here."

"They won't care," Shane scrunches up his face. "They won't even notice. Come sit down."

"Okay," Ilya says, but looks a little torn. "We are suppose to be hosting, not lazing around."

"Ilya," Shane sat up more. "You cleaned the whole house like twice today. I cooked. We aren't lazing around."

"Yes, I know, but..."

"Ilya, you aren't lazy," Shane said directly. He doesn't know exactly why that word seems difficult for Ilya, but he has his suspicions. "And even if you were lazy sometimes, I wouldn't care. I would like it, probably."

Ilya softened. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Shane tugs him and Ilya finally lets himself be pulled into Shane's lap. "Just come be lazy with me."

10-pause-10-pause-10-long pause, lean down to kiss-10-pause-10-pause-10.

Ilya finds out about it and decides on a Game™️.

“After you write your chapters,” he proposes. “Write what you want to do tonight. But only after you’re done.”

“My reward for writing is…more writing?” Shane asks dubiously.

“Yes.”

And Shane trusts him but doesn’t think it will be very rewarding. As he’s writing boring notes about his development camps, he lets his mind wander. Ilya did kind of give him a blank slate. Full control of the night. Whatever he wants.

When he starts writing out their night, every drop of blood in his body is almost instantly diverted to his cock. He adjusts in his seat, fingers stuttering on the keys. When he can’t take it anymore, he calls Ilya over.

“Hot,” Ilya says appreciatively as he reads. “But that’s all, sweetheart?”

The word counter in the corner read 56.

“No,” Shane whines, catching on to the game.

“We will do everything you write,” Ilya’s palm is rough against his cheek, lifting his face to look him in the eyes. “But no more.”

Shane tries his best to collect himself and continue to write. After another 150 words, he calls Ilya over again.

“Better,” Ilya appraised, fingers rubbing the back of his neck. “You want shirts to stay on, yes? You never write that we take them off.”

“Ilya, please…”

But Shane is just as Ilya-sexual and that - infuriately - crops up a lot in the workplace, when Shane's two favourite things (his husband and hockey) mesh. When Shane first joined the Centaurs, there were many (good natured) jokes about Ilya needing to keep it in his pants around his husband. Shane soon found out it was not Ilya they needed to worry about.

It started with Ilya giving out corrections, like any good captain.

"Young," Ilya said in that low, soft, but unavoidable tone. "You need to stop looking at puck, that is for goalie, yes? Find open ice and watch player who has the puck."

Shane, to his horror, shivered. The order, not even to him, locked in place. Watch team, not puck.

"Shane?"

"Mh?" Shane's eyes shot up to look at him.

Ilya gave him a look. Then a quick once over. "Practice passing assists to Young, okay?"

"Yes, s-cap," Shane flushed, blaming it on the biting cold of the rink. "Yeah, of course. C'mon, Rook."

It just got worse from there.

"Again, Holmberg, or you drive Zamboni for a week."

"If you pass like that in game, I will send you to the Maple Leafs."

"Young!" Ilya raised his voice and Shane's knees buckled. "Shoot puck at net, not at teammates. Don't make me come over there."

But even worse than the corrections, was the praise.

"Good job, Luca, that was beautiful goal."

"That was what I am talking about, Wyatts, I love you."

"Exactly like that, Holms, great job."

"Good job."

"Good job."

"Good job."

It was going to kill him. He could not take it anymore. More often then not, he pounces on his husband as soon as they're home from practice. Sometimes even in the car (far away from the parking lot, of course). Not that Ilya complains.

One such time, a couple months of Shane slowly losing his insanity, he has Ilya pressed up against the wall in their entryway.

"You are in state tonight," Ilya breathed in between kisses. "You have been for months."

"Have not been," Shane exhaled shakily. He wanted to be in the bed, but he didn't want to waste time walking there. He leaned more of his weight on Ilya, hoping that signaled he wanted to be carried.

"No?" Ilya caught on and took on the extra weight, and turned them, so Shane was against the wall. "But I wanted to give you reward."

"Hmm," Shane smiled into his neck. "For what?"

"For practice," Ilya pulled back to look at him, a slow, smug smirk taking over his features. "For doing such a good job."

Shane shivered then stilled. He pulled back, face hot. "You-you asshole! You knew!"

"Of course I know," Ilya finally lifted him, hands braced under his thighs, not letting him pull away. "I know you."

"Its so embarrassing." Shane lamented, melting into Ilya's hold.

"Is only fair," Ilya carried him to their room. "Now you know how I feel every time you fold laundry, or wear little yoga shorts, or power wash deck, or fix light bulb, or..."

"I get it," Shane interrupted him.

Ilya liked them more than most players. He didn’t have a wife to whisk away to some tropical island for the weekend or kids to spend time with. All Stars provided an opportunity to see friends that had cycled through the Bears and get cheered on by sold-out stadiums. 

Also, without fail, Hollander was at every All Star game. The Metros did not even send him as a Metro representative pick anymore because they were confident he would be one of the fan votes. 

This year was shaping up to be a fun All Stars - Ilya was the Bears representative (obviously), with Marley and Connors both being fan votes. Hunter was sent by the Admirals, with Vaughn being another fan pick. Unfortunately, Hollanders ‘mother’, Pike, was sent by the Metros. 

Ilya could never tell if Pike was particularly controlling of Hollander ‘I told Hayden I would be back by 11’ or if Hollander just liked using him as an excuse. Either way, Pike’s presence would limit his Hollander time, which he was not happy about. Plus, the only reason they sent Pike was because he was Hollander’s left wing. 

But, with All Stars came nonsense. 

Like this. 

“Okay,” the woman in front of their ‘meeting room’ pushed her glasses up. “Hollander, Pike, Rozanov, Marleu, Hunter, Vaughn, and Connors, you all will be with our ‘Sports Trade’ Challenge. Rink C, please. Smith, Alkermann, Grant, Johnston, Letterman, and Siegel, you all are with the ‘Are You Smarter than a Timbit’ group. Rink A, please.” 

Ilya covered his mouth to hide his smile. He should not be getting giddy because he was paired with Hollander’s group. He got his eye for just a second and wondered if he was feeling the same. Probably not. He was probably irritated about it. 

Eventually, a man in a USA Skating vest led their group to Rink C, flipping through a clipboard as he explained the Sports Trade. “Alright, boys. You’ll be paired up with Bella Nastrova, Elena French, Victor Nikiforov, and Yuri Katsuki. They should be arriving in a few minutes and getting laced up. We’ve got figure skates in all your sizes - should be lined up by the benches. Let us know if they don’t fit right. Tiff’s on cameras and she’ll let you know what we’re filming. Nothing crazy.” 

~*~*~*~

“Oh my god, there’s two of them,” Hunter groans, wiping a hand down his face. “I can’t deal with two of them.” 

“I know the feeling,” Pike mutters next to him. “This is weird, right?” 

“It’s not weird,” Hollander huffs. Always so huffy. “Skating is big in Russia and Japan.” 

Shane wanted to go back in time and take up tennis. They did not do things like this in tennis. Or maybe golf. 

As soon as Victor Nikiforov stepped into the rink, he zeroed in on Ilya. 

“Привет!” Hi!

“Откуда ты?” Where are you from?

“Санкт-Петербург.” St. Petersburg 

“Москва.” Moscow

“Ах! Городской парень, да?” Ah! A city boy, huh?

“Тебе бы помолчать — Санкт-Петербург — это далеко не маленькая деревня.” You’re one to talk - St. Petersburg is hardly a village. 

And Yuri zeroed in on him. 

“Hi,” Yuri said in English as he gave a little wave as Ilya and Victor spoke in rapid Russian. “I’m not a big hockey fan - not that I don’t like it! It’s great! Just, it's not often there's a Japanese player so… My sister - well, she’s a friend, but basically like a sister, she’s going to be so jealous about this, she’s a huge fan.”

Usually mention of being one of the only Asian players set Shane’s nerves on edge, but not this time. This was the kind of recognition that made it worth it. 

“Thanks,” Shane offered a smile. “I was in development camp with some of the Team USA skaters, so I’ve followed figure skating ever since - do you know Joe? He does singles, I think.” 

“Oh yeah!” Yuri brightened. “He’s awesome!”

Ilya laughed at something Victor said and clapped him hard on the back, making Victor stumble forward a step. 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Do you speak Japanese?” 

“A little bit, why?” He could get by, but he had been severely neglecting the language since he was a teenager. 

“Because they’re going to be speaking a secret language all weekend and I want to speak one too.” 

“Is not a secret language, Yuri!” Victor called over his shoulder. “Is very easy language if you would actually study.” 

“I try,” Yuri complained. “It's hard.” 

It really is. Shane thought and then - why was Yuri learning Russian?

“Okay everyone!” Tiff called them all over. “We’ve got seven hockey players and four figure skaters, so pair up!” 

Ilya immediately grabbed Victor and Victor did the same. 

Yuri glanced at him a little hesitantly. “Want to pair up?” 

“Yeah,” Shane said gratefully. 

Marleu, Vaughn, and Connors fought over Elena, in the end letting an amused Elena pick. She picked Vaughn and Connors, much to Marleu’s outrage. Bella grabbed up Hunter and Hayden. Marleu begrudgingly joined Ilya and Victor. 

The Sports Trade challenge was - to no one’s surprise - a complete disaster. Shane, happily, was by far the best. Though, that was mostly because Yuri was actually coaching him and not trying to make him look stupid. Victor, to Ilya’s smug pleasure, was the best of the figure skaters. 

“Don’t let him fool you,” Yuri said, scowling as he tried to push a puck into the net. “He played hockey as a kid.” 

“You have to hit the puck, Yuri.” Shane said for the hundredth time. 

“I’m trying!” 

Yuri hit the top of the puck again and Shane almost tackled him. 

“Okay,” Victor said from across the rink. “This is easiest spin to learn. Babies do it.”

“Oh my god,” Yuri looked over and Ilya tried to imitate Victor’s move. “He’s going to kill him.”

Bella seemed to take great amusement watching her group try bunny hops and fall on their asses. 

Elena spent most of the time demonstrating, but she did actually get Connors to do a two foot spin. 

“That’s great, guys,” Tiff said at one point, adjusting her camera. “I think we got it.” 

“Thank god,” Yuri breathed, giving the hockey stick back to Shane. “That was awful.” 

“It was not that bad,” Victor said once he skated over. 

“We are going out tonight, boys!” Marleu declared once the group had all gathered at center ice and then glanced at Elena and Bella. “And girls!” 

Both Shane and Yuri cringed. 

“Eh, sounds fun,” Victor said. “But Yuri and I need to get back to hotel.” 

“You guys are rooming together?” Vaughn asked. 

“I would hope so,” Victor said brightly, raising up his hand so his golden ring sparkled in the light. “Seeing as he’s my husband.” 

Seven pairs of wide eyes swung to Victor. 

Yuri gave him a look that Shane interpreted as why the hell would you say that here? 

Elena rolled her eyes. “You guys didn’t know they are married? Victor never shuts up about it.”

“We have reservations,” Yuri wiped his hands on his pants. 

“Oh! No, that’s cool!” Vaughn tried to break the tension. “Love is love, you know?” 

“Right,” Yuri smiled. 

“Yes,” Victor threw his arm over Yuri’s shoulders. “I won many championships when we both skated singles and Yuri here was my biggest fan.” 

“I was not!” Yuri flushed. 

“And then I watched him skate my routine. Very beautiful, so I offered to be his coach so he could actually win competitions.”

“Victor,” Yuri warned. 

“How do you even go from rivals to coaching?” Connors asked. 

“That was easy. I asked him while I was naked in the bathhouse.” 

Shane choked and Pike patted him on the back. “You okay, Shane?”

“Fine,” Shane said tightly, glaring at Ilya, who was barely holding back a smirk. “Sorry.” 

“Are you still his coach?” Hunter asked, thankfully diverting the attention from a red faced Shane. 

“Ah, no,” Victor said. “We do pair skating now. Being rivals was fun, being a coach was fun, but competing with my husband is best.” 

“It really is,” Yuri softened. 

“That’s great,” Hunter said, his voice a little sad. 

“Yeah, man,” Marleu agreed. “Okay, listen. "Reservations’ tonight, but after the game tomorrow, we go out.” 

Victor said something to Yuri in Russian. Shane watched Ilya’s lips tug up in a suppressed smile. Shane would be getting translations tonight. 

“Sure,” surprisingly, this was a much more comfortable Yuri. “That sounds fun, actually.” 

“We will celebrate Team Russia’s win,” Victor said. 

“You mean Team Japan’s Win,” Yuri glared.

~*~*~*~

“And would you look at that! We’ve got figure skating legends Victor Nikiforov and Yuri Katsuki on the screen!” The announcers boomed over the speakers.

Victor and Yuri were waving from their box seats, turning around to show off the Hollander jersey Yuri wore and the Rozanov jersey Victor wore. 

“Looks like we’ve got some country competition, tonight folks! Who needs the Olympics when you’ve got the All-Stars!”

~*~*~*~ 

“Hey Marley?" Connors asked later that night when they were getting their gear together. 

“What?” 

“You don’t think - I mean, did you notice…?” 

“Connors?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Sorry.” 

First it’s planning their meet-ups months ahead. Shane has time to plan his outfit, do a pre-workout, and complete his prep routine. When he’s hosting, the temperature is perfectly set, lights low, fresh towels set out on the counters. When Ilya’s hosting or a hotel, he builds in time to do everything he needs beforehand.

Once they’re married, that changes. Living together means things can be a lot more spontaneous (which he loves) but he also likes to know The Plan™️.

And once they’re married, Shane has no problem asking for what he wants so he can plan out his day and routine. It’s not particularly sexy, but he guesses that’s married life.

“Ilya?”

“Hm?”

“Do you want to eat me out after the Canada match tonight?”

They had both been rooting for Canada at the world cup - Ilya even got them jerseys.

Ilya chokes and Shane frowns at him. “You okay?”

“I - just - what?”

“Well I’m going to do a full shower after my physio session with Amelia - I should be done by the time the Canada game starts. Oh - and I meant to ask if you liked those new frozen meals Lyn brought over. They’re a new brand.”

“I - yes, please Shane if I ever don’t want to eat you out, I have been replaced by aliens.”

“Okay, cool. And the meals?”

“Gross,” Ilya said. “But normal gross.”

~*~*~*~

“Ilya?”

“What?”

“Can we fuck on the couch tonight? With the fire going?”

Ilya grit his teeth and for a second Shane thought he would say no.

“Of course.”

“Maybe around 8? I bought 2 hour logs and the fire needs to be completely out by bedtime.”

“Okay.”

~*~*~*~

“Ilya!”

“Shane?”

“Look at your messages! I want to try that position. Maybe after we get back from our afternoon skate?”

~*~*~*~

“Ilya?” Shane asked through his cars bluetooth. Ilya was cooking and keeping him company on the phone as he drove back from an optometrist appointment. Much to his husband’s (fake) disappointment, his slight nearsightedness still didn’t need glasses for anything besides reading comfortably.

“Hm?”

“Did my package get delivered?”

“A package did. I put it on side table for you.”

“Can you go ahead and open it? I wasn’t sure what size to get so I got a few options. I want to try them this weekend - maybe Saturday? If they don’t fit, I’ll need to do another order tonight for 3 day shipping.”

He heard Ilya take a deep breath. He hated to give him another thing to do on top of making dinner, but he wanted to make sure they had the right sizes before they wanted to use them.

~*~*~*~

“Hey Ilya?” Shane said quietly, so the other people at the stuffy fundraiser couldn’t hear.

“Yes?” Ilya, his hand coming up to run through the back of Shane’s hair.

“I’m exhausted. Can we do shower blowjobs when we get home tonight?”

Ilya hand stuttered in his hair. Shane hated to disappoint him but he was too tired for his prep routine, his post routine, and cleaning the sheets. Or even getting up for Ilya to do it. Shower blowjobs had excellent clean up time and he could fall right into bed afterwards.

“That sounds perfect,” Ilya said, a little roughly.

~*~*~*~

Shane was going to kill him. Murder him. Like a sniper - out of the blue, at any given moment, Shane might call out to him all softly and then ask for hottest sex imaginable (all sex with Shane) AND THEN plan it for later, leaving Ilya incredibly worked up.

The worst part was Shane did not even know he did this to him - for Shane, it was just planning - run at 6, breakfast at 8:15, workout at 8:30, shower at 10, fuck husband at 10:45, off ice training at 12:15, etc. It drove Ilya insane.

“No.” 

They were sitting on his parent’s couch towards the end of their first summer in the cottage. Yuna and David were cooking and Shane was in the middle of watching a hockey game before Ilya, after a sideways glance, plucked up the remote and switched channels. 

Shane blinks. “Give me the remote, Ilya.” 

“Hm,” Ilya said, who is just as spoiled, but did grow up with an older brother. “Nope.” 

“I was watching that game.”

“Is old recording,” Ilya said, flipping through channels without looking over. “It is my turn now.”

“Your turn?” Shane said. “This is my parent’s house. Give it.”

“Your parents house, my turn.”

Shane made to grab the remote and then Ilya did the unthinkable. 

He yanked his hand up, away from Shane. “Go away, Hollander, I’m watching Ancient Aliens."

“Ilya.”

“Shane.” 

That’s when Shane reached again and Ilya - Ilya flicked him. 

“You - you!” And Shane pounced. 

“Give me the remote!” 

“Nyet!” 

“You’re being a child!”

“You are not respecting turns!” 

“Turn it back!” 

The wrestled - Ilya only had one hand to fight with since the other was holding the remote far away from Shane’s grabby hands. Of course, neither one was using their full strength and Shane’s playful smile betrayed his actions. At one point, he tucked the remote under his chest and curled around it, but that led to Shane rolling them both off the couch. Now on the rug, Shane had just put hands on the edge of the remote when they heard a sharp - 

“Boys!” 

They both whipped their heads around to see a wide-eyed Yuna taking in the messed up couch, blankets strewn around, cushions everywhere, her son and his boyfriend tangled together on the rug, Shane's fingers brushing the remote Ilya was holding away from him.

Ilya, having more experience, immediately took the opportunity. “Yuna! Shane is not letting me have turn.” 

“Shane,” her eyes zeroed in on Shane and narrowed. “Ilya is our guest.”

“But! Ilya isn’t a guest, he’s my boyfriend.”

“And he’s my guest. Honestly, you two.” 

“I will clean pillows, Yuna,” Illya suggested sweetly. 

“Thank you, honey.”

“But!”

“It would be nice for you to offer to clean sometimes, Shane,” Yuna uncrossed her arms. 

“Yeah, Shane,” Illya smirked and it filled Shane with an unreasonable amount of rage. 

“Dinner is almost ready,” Yuna said. “Shane, come help me.”

“But mom!” 

Yuna turned to go back into the kitchen, catching her husband’s amused glance. 

As Shane trudged into the kitchen, David told Yuna, “we always wondered what two would be like.”

First, we see him with Circe, who wants him to be comfortable enough to lower his guard so she can defeat him. She switches from a harsh battle to a gentle, but firm demands to fall into her 'other ways' of persuasion. She tells him, "Don't be afraid / Think of your past / Don't break when..." She is telling him that sometimes, the "price we pay to love" to is to betray (cheat), to do things others may find immoral. She tells him "there is no line / never enough", stating that no matter what he does, he will not arrive home unscathed. What's one time sleeping with her to save his men and go home? What does it matter?

To Odysseus, it matters a lot. It's the one thing he's desperately trying to hold on to - his faithfulness to his wife, the one part of his idenity he refuses to let the war and journey take.

Second, we see him with the Siren, who wants to kill him. The Siren spends the entire song dismissing his worries and fears. "I will take the suffering from you." Every time he expresses a negative emotion, she repeats the line. She tells him not to worry, that she'll make sure he's safe. And of course Odysseus knows it's all a trick and lies, but it's also the first time he's 'seen' his wife in 10 years.

Third, we see him with Calypso, who is probably the worst, because she actually does love him. She immediately dismisses his wife, "Anyways, I've got all your could want here." Which, isn't too bad at first, but then we get this exchange after 7 years. "You don't know what I've gone through / You don't know what I've sacrificed / Every comrade I long knew / Every friend, I saw them die / And all I hear are screams". He is finally telling her he can't take it anymore - he's breaking down but he's still hesitating, he wants someone to listen to him. He's been saying it for years know - all he hears is screams.

And then Calypso comes back with, "It will be fine, dear, come back inside, dear / Love of my life, come back to paradise. I know your life's been hard / I'll stay inside your heart". She tells him that it will all be fine (it's not fine) and he should enjoy paradise (which he can't, because his wife and son are still in danger), like Circe and the Siren, she wants (for different reasons) for Odysseus to forget/let go of his past. And in the end, it's not her that pulls him off the cliff, its the memory of his family (triggered by Calypso's "please stay away from harm / stay in my open arms") and the last ditch hail mary (calling out to Athena) that saves him. Her last song underscores how her love for him was about her - its her loneliness and her sadness and her anger. Nothing in her song is about him, because her love is born out of isolation and him being the first person she's seen in over 100 years.

Fourth and finally, we come to Penelope. Unlike the other three, she is hesitant. She still thinks this might be a trick - she's a Spartan princess, she's aware that gods and goddess can play tricks. He doesn't beat around the bush, he's defeated but hopeful. He tells her "I am not the man you fell in love with/ I am not the man you once adored / I am not your kind and gentle husband / And I am not the love you knew before". There is no sugar coating it - he's not the same person that sailed away to troy. He's done horrible things. He asks her, "Would you fall in love with me again / If you knew all I've done? / The things I cannot change / Would you love me all the same?"

He's dreading that she will say yes and he's dreading that she will say no. He loves her, he doesn't want her to be married to a monster. He is a monster. He loves her.

But she hits him back with, "What kinds of things did you do?"

She asks. No other woman has asked him this. No one wanted to know - they wanted him to forget the acts that we burned in the back of his eyelids. He doesn't hesitate to answer. He tells her, he's killed, he's killed many, he killed their friends, he's hurt countless lives. He did it all to get back to her, but he did it nonetheless. But he still needs an answer from her, and says, "so tell me"

Penelope sees what's happening here. She knows this is her husband. She knows he's lost his sense of identity - he's no longer a great general, a beneficent king, an excited new father, and a gentle husband. There is only one part of his identity she can remind him of now. She's already challenged his fighting skills - shown him that he was still the King by designing a challenge to give him his bow without raising suspicions, but its not enough.

She arranges another challenge.

She asks him to move the bed. She doesn't just invite him to remember his past, she forces him to confront his memories of their life together. He was the man she married, he was the man that built the bed, he was the man she had waited 20 years for.

She doesn't try to be gentle with him like the other three women, she confronts him head on, angry.

I will fall in love with you Over and over again I don’t care how, where, or when No matter how long it’s been You’re mine Don’t tell me you’re not the same person You’re always my husband And I’ve been waiting, waiting

She's tells him that she's not here because she's desperately holding onto an old, dying, rotting love. She wants to fall in love with every version of him - the kind, the gentle, warrior, the general, the king, and the monster. He is hers. She has waited for 20 years and she will fall in love with him again every day - she will fall in love when he retakes the throne, when he steps down for Telemachus, when he can no longer hold a sword, when he can no longer walk. She will fall in love with every version.