(mis)communication (2600 words)
Ilya left the cottage a week ago feeling the happiest he had ever felt. He had bagged the hottest player in the NHL, Shane Hollander. And Shane loved him back. And they were boyfriends. And they were going to make it work, despite all of the seemingly impossible setbacks.
But after a month of being officially Long Distance Boyfriends, Ilya wasn’t feeling so happy or confident anymore.
***
The doubt started a few days after Shane drove Ilya to the airport. After Ilya landed, he texted Shane that he had made it home safe. Shane had replied with a perfunctory “Good!” Afterwards, he added a red heart emoji.
The next day, Ilya reached out and told Shane he missed him already. Shane didn’t reply for over five hours, and when he did, it was a simple, “Miss you too.”
Monday, Ilya texted again. “How was your day? ❤️.” Shane, again, didn’t reply right away. Ilya thought maybe he was in bed? But it was only 8pm.
Finally, around ten his phone lights up. “Fine. Had practice.”
This is what makes Ilya pause. Why is Shane not wanting to talk with him?
Yes, they never texted much before, but that was because they were just having sex. Their texts essentially were foreplay and logistics for meeting up and nothing much else. But now that they were together, Ilya assumed they would talk almost every day? Especially since they won’t see each other for three more weeks, when the Bears and Voyagers meet for the first time this season.
Shane seemed to have other ideas. All week he sends off only short replies to Ilya. He rarely asks questions, only answers Ilya’s. Ilya’s only reassurance is that when he tells him he misses him or loves him, Shane always replies with a similar sentiment, or at least a heart emoji.
Two weeks into the season, Ilya is feeling a bit desperate. And missing Shane. He knows it’s ridiculous. They usually go months, if not a year, between interactions. So why is he feeling so Shane deprived?
Probably because before, Ilya (and Shane, presumably,) were both repressing their feelings for each other and not wanting to get any closer or share anything personal.
But now? Now, Ilya wants to hear everything about Shane’s day. He wants to know how his practice went. He wants to know what Shane thinks about MacJohn’s pay raise and if Shane thinks the Buffalo team is a playoff contender now that they have a new coach.
He also wants to know what Shane’s favourite pie flavour is. The Canadian Thanksgiving holiday was coming up soon, and Ilya wanted to get it from this new bakery he’s been going to. Ilya learned about Thanksgiving through an extensive Google search on Canadian customs, because these were things he would need to know if he moved to Ottawa next season.
Mostly, Ilya was just longing to hear Shane’s voice. And make sure that they were still on the same page—still wanting to be together.
So Ilya picks up the phone and presses Shane’s (Jane’s) contact name, and then the call button. He lies down on the couch in his living room, staring up at the ceiling as the phone rings.
“Hey, Ilya, what’s up?” Shane asks. He sounds a bit out of breath, but not like he’s on a run. “Is everything okay?”
Ilya’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Yes? Everything is ok?”
“Oh!” Shane says, tone more steady and less nervous than before. “I thought maybe something happened with your brother or something.”
“Um, no. I am good,” Ilya says.
“Good!”
There’s a bit of silence for a moment, before Shane continues, “Look, now isn’t a good time. I’m assuming you’re calling for…” Shane trails off, sounding embarrassed. “For video sex. I’m in the middle of a bike session in my gym but I’ll call you tonight around 9:15 if that works?”
Ilya is immediately hurt by the assumption that he was only calling for sex. Yes, he would like to have video sex later, but that’s not why he was calling now. He really just wanted to see if Shane would pick up. And if it would be the same as it used to be between them, at the cottage. He’s not feeling any more sure after this phone call.
If anything, he feels worse.
“Okay,” Ilya gets out. “9:15 then.”
“Talk soon!” Shane says before hanging up.
***
A week before Ilya flies to Canada for the first Boston versus Montreal game, Ilya is hungry for Shane’s attention. Shane hasn’t been any better with replying to texts, and they also have been missing each other’s sex calls a lot lately. Shane is often too busy or too tired after practice. And Ilya understands. But he’s feeling lonelier than he ever did before spending three magical weeks with Shane at his cottage.
Probably because he’s never had what he has with Shane with anyone else: a lover who he wants to have sex with multiple times a day in different positions and at different paces. But also someone who felt like … a best friend. Someone who laughs at every one of his jokes, like Shane does, even when he thinks they’re dumb.
Now that him and Shane are so far apart, he is yearning for that feeling again.
One night, he’s desperate and trying to find new ways to engage with Shane. He decides to take the most egregiously sexy nude photo and send it to him. That should spark some action. They hadn’t Skyped in almost a week.
He sets himself up in front of the full body mirror in his front hall, with excellent lighting from golden hour outside. It doesn’t take long to get the shot; Ilya is a pro at nude photos.
But Ilya has never been allowed to send one to Shane before. He was terrified of anyone seeing it on Shane’s phone and outing their secret hookups.
But now Ilya has lost his will to care. He’ll do anything to get Shane to engage with him.
He sends the photo.
And Shane never replies.
***
Ilya steps off the tarmac in Montreal three days later, feeling absolutely sick to his stomach.
He’s heading straight to Shane’s apartment in Broussard, meeting him for a rare afternoon together before they play each other tomorrow afternoon.
He was debating cancelling, telling Shane he couldn’t get away from his team. He was so nervous about seeing him again that fear almost won out. But it didn’t. Ultimately, Ilya would do anything to see his (maybe?) boyfriend again.
They texted a bit this week to arrange details, but nothing else. Shane reminded Ilya of the door code. Ilya asked what clothes he needed to pack for the October weather in Canada. Shane reminded Ilya of the door code again, and reiterated the importance of making sure he’s not spotted entering the building.
Now Ilya was shitting his pants, terrified he was about to be broken up with.
He tells his team he’s visiting a friend in the city who he played Juniors with, and takes a cab to Shane’s place. Shane is going to meet him there in an hour, after his practice wraps up.
Ilya makes it into the apartment unspotted, drops his things onto the living room couch and snoops around. He is looking to find anything out of the ordinary; anything that could explain Shane’s reticence these past few weeks. But he comes up empty handed.
***
“Ilya?” he hears Shane call later on. Ilya’s been watching YouTube on his phone, waiting for Shane’s arrival.
“Hi,” Ilya says, getting up from the couch and greeting Shane at the door.
He’s really unsure about the approach here—should he hug Shane? Kiss him? Give him a firm handshake?
But Shane takes the decision away from him, as he runs up to Ilya and wraps his arms around him tightly.
“I missed you so much,” Shane says reverently, right into the skin on Ilya’s neck.
Ilya is in too much shock to form words at first, but he wraps his arms around Shane immediately, because of course he does.
“I missed you too,” Ilya states simply.
Shane pulls away slowly, taking in Ilya’s expression as they separate. “You alright?”
Ilya nods, but is having a hard time schooling his face into a reassuring smile.
Shane grabs Ilya’s hand and drags him to the couch. He sits down right next to him, their hips and thighs touching, and rests a hand on top of one of Ilya’s.
“What’s up?” Shane asks, all his attention on Ilya. Shane’s face is full of love and concern, and all it does is confuse him more.
“I—“ Ilya hesitates, not sure if he should bring this conversation up before they’ve even kissed. “I thought … maybe … you might want to break up.”
Shane’s entire face scrunches with confusion, his freckles bunching up under his eyes in the way that Ilya loves. He wants to run his thumb over the spots, but holds himself back.
“What?” Shane questions. His eyes are doing the thing only Shane’s eyes know how to do. They turn soft, and tears pool on his bottom lash line, but don’t spill over. Ilya cannot stand when Shane’s face gets like this. He literally feels his heart cracking right down the middle. “Why would I want to break up?”
Ilya shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “I’ve been texting. And calling. And trying to get your attention. But you never seem to reply. We haven’t talked in a week?”
Shane’s face scrunched up even more, which Ilya didn’t know was possible. “That’s not true. We texted this week.”
“Yes, about meeting. Not about how your day was going or to say I love you or to chat about hockey.”
Shane’s face relaxes a little, but he still looks like he isn’t fully understanding. “Oh.”
Shane sits for a moment, directing his eyes to the floor. But his hand is still on Ilya’s, and he’s stroking his skin with his thumb. Ilya takes this as a good sign.
“We never really texted much before. So I didn’t know…” Shane confesses before trailing off. “I don’t know how much boyfriends usually talk.”
“Well,” Ilya starts. “I don’t either, really? What did you do with Rose?”
Shane scowls at that, just like Ilya knew he would. He knows that Shane hates when he brings Rose up.
“We didn’t text much. Because she was in a different time zone filming. And also, because she wasn’t my girlfriend.”
Ilya laughs at Shane’s bratty tone, as he always does, and Shane frowns.
“I didn’t realize you were trying to talk more. I’m sorry.” Shane looks genuinely apologetic, so Ilya accepts easily. His boyfriend can be very dense at times.
“Is okay,” Ilya says genuinely, before pulling Shane to sit in his lap. He is just relieved they are okay.
Shane doesn’t look so sure and still has this guilty look in his eyes. Ilya isn’t having that. They only have eighteen precious hours together; Ilya wants to make the most of it. He kisses Shane firmly, and they loose themselves in it for a while. Then Shane pulls back, albeit reluctantly.
“How often should I text you? I usually leave my phone at the house during practice and I don’t look at it when I’m doing yoga. I’m not really a good texter. But I will do better at replying, I promise. We can call every morning and—” Ilya cuts Shane’s rambles off at that point, pressing their lips together again.
“Ilya—” Shane tries to push him away, but Ilya chases after his kiss. Shane doesn’t let their lips connect.
Ilya sighs in discontent. “We don’t need to put a number on it. I just wanted to hear about how your practices went and what you thought about MacJohn’s raise—”
This time Shane cuts him off, immediately angry. “It’s absolutely bullshit! That guy has the least amount of assists on his team and is constantly getting unnecessary penalties. He should not have gotten a cent more!”
And then Ilya has to kiss him all over again, because he loves when Shane gets worked up about hockey. He’s always right too, because he knows every single players’ stats.
This time they kiss for a while, alternating between firm kisses and adoring pecks. When Shane needs a breather, he pulls away and rests his head on Ilya’s shoulder, facing away.
“How about Tuesday and Thursday evening catch up calls after games? And I promise to get better at answering your messages.”
“Deal,” Ilya says, placing a kiss on Shane’s dark hair.
“I did want to know how your day was too. I thought about you all the time, wondering what you were up to,” Shane says smally.
“Why did you not ask?”
Shane squirms in Ilya’s lap. “I don’t know. We just never used to talk about stuff like that. So I didn’t know what the ettiequte was.”
Ilya nods in understanding.
“I also was kind of in hockey mode.” Shane pulls his face off Ilya shoulder so he can look at him. “Can’t exactly win hockey games if you’re constantly texting your boyfriend and missing him.”
Ilya softens at that, and now his eyes are starting to get Shane’s signature glossy look.
“Are we okay? I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”
Ilya smiles, and he feels like his face is boarding on dopey. “Yes, Hollander. We are good.”
***
After their very adoring make up sex, they’re lying in Shane’s king bed, sheets and pillows thrown everywhere.
Shane is lying on his stomach, spent. Ilya is lying on his side beside him and drawing shapes on Shane’s back with one finger.
“So, you did not like my photo?”
Shane blushes entirely red at that. The colour creeps down his neck.
“I loved it. I jerked off three times that night thinking about it,” Shane says, embarrassed, still pink in the cheeks.
Ilya is thrilled to hear that. “Is that why you did not reply? Too busy with your dick in your hand?”
Shane smacks him playfully in the stomach for the retort. “No. I deleted it immediately. We can’t have anything like that getting out there!”
“So you got off just thinking about this photo you could not even see?”
“Shut up, Rozanov,” Shane buries his face into the pillow to hide his discomfort.
“Call me next time, yes? Video call.” Ilya warns, teasingly.
“Yes, yes, okay,” Shane placates, obviously wanting this conversation to be over.
Ilya leans down to press a sweet kiss to Shane’s lips. “Are you hungry?”
Shane nods. Ilya gets up immediately, pulling Shane with him.
“What are we going to eat?”
“I have four pies in my suitcase,” Ilya informs Shane.
“What?! Why?” Shane asks, as Ilya unzips the bag.
“It is Thanksgiving tomorrow, yes? I did not know what you liked, so I got all of them. Well, pumpkin, apple, rhubarb and this chocolate peanut butter one that I do not think is normal for holiday. But it looked yummy,” Ilya stops, bashful look on his face.
Shane looks stunned. “Is too much?” Ilya asks, embarrassed. “I was going to ask your favourite but you did not reply to texts.”
Shane groans. “I’m sorry!” He looks genuinely distraught with guilt all over again, and Ilya has to laugh.
“Is okay Hollander. More pie for us.”
Ilya has one slice of each, for research purposes. Shane eats one bite of each, because it is the middle of the season. But he has an extra bite of the peanut butter chocolate one, which Ilya makes note of for later.
