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Shane never really cared for his birthday. He didn’t understand why people made such a big fuss about it. Sure, when he was a kid, he loved getting new Hockey gear. But he would have loved it just as much any other day of the year.
Now that he was older and his gifts consisted mostly of fancy bamboo socks and the odd box of macrobiotic carob chocolates his mother had found in a specialty store somewhere, he ignored his birthday. He treated it like any other day; the “exciting” birthday dinners with his parents had stopped years ago, after his first season playing for Montreal. His birthday being during playoff season, didn’t help with it becoming more irrelevant each year.
This year, they were up against Tampa around Shane’s birthday. The schedule allowed them two full nights in the city, landing late on Thursday evening, the game on Friday, and then their flight back (and Shane’s birthday) on Saturday. The rest of the Metros knew about his birthday, but they also knew he didn’t care to celebrate it. His first few seasons on the team, they tried setting up team dinners or surprise parties, but that stopped rather quickly. They could all tell he wasn’t enjoying the parties, the dinners, flashy gifts, and especially not all the attention. Shane loved playing for the Metros and everything that came with it, but oftentimes he wished all of it were less publicised.
The flight to Tampa was just over three hours, and Shane spent most of that time rereading one of his Hockey theory books. He sipped on his ginger ale when his phone dinged with a new message.
Lily: It is your birthday soon, right?
Shane sighed, bookmarked his book, and set it down on the tray table.
Jane: It is, but I don’t really care about my birthday
Lily: why? birthday is fun. i have big gift for you ;)
Jane: The only gift I want is winning the Stanley Cup this year ;)
Lily: you are playing Tampa tomorrow, yes? very easy win for Montreal
Lily: i think 4-1 you will win
Jane: We are, and it will be!
Jane: Just like beating Boston will be easy ;)
Lily: maybe after you win we call, if you can
Jane: I’d like that
Jane: I’ll have to see what the room assignments are though
Shane pocketed his phone again, going back to reading for the rest of the flight.
Their hotel in Tampa was like most of the hotels they stayed in during away games. Not too flashy, clean, and close to the rink. This one had the added advantage of having a lot of single rooms. Shane didn’t mind sharing with his teammates, he usually roomed with Hayden, but if he wanted to call Ilya, he would need privacy. As soon as he settled in the room, Shane pulled out his phone and texted Ilya his room number, 1143. The tradition obviously began from the times they were playing each other's teams and meeting up in the hotel afterwards, but eventually it became muscle memory to share their room number no matter what city they were in. One summer, Ilya even sent Shane the room number to his hotel room in Russia and they both laughed about it hard on their Skype call that night.
Jane: I have a single room
Jane: call me
Ilya didn’t reply to the message, but the Skype ringtone sounded through the room not even two minutes later.
Their call lasted a few hours, with Shane finally falling asleep around 2 AM. The laptop was still sitting open at the foot of the bed, a pile of neatly folded clothes on the chair in the corner, and Ilya watching him sleep for a few minutes before ending the call with a whispered “I love you”.
When Shane woke up the next morning, he saw his reflection in the laptop screen. His hair was tousled and all over the place. He realized he hadn’t cleaned himself off properly, but he also didn’t seem to care too much this time. The shower took a minute to heat up, but the cold water hitting his body helped him wake up and cleared his mind quickly. He sat with Hayden in the breakfast room, who was telling him all about the drama Jackie was having with one of the other moms in their pre-K group. Shane wasn’t listening; his brain fully focused on the image of Ilya on his laptop screen, still fresh in his mind, but he thought it might have been about orange slices for the kids’ picnic.
Practice at the rink was calm. They all knew it would be an easy win against Tampa, even on their home turf. So, Shane let his mind wander during practice. The image of Ilya spread open on his bed so beautifully replaying on a loop in his mind. It had been months since they’d seen each other, and if they were playing each other, it wouldn’t be for at least 2 more weeks. They were used to this by now. Years and years of stolen moments in hotel rooms, an hour or two once every 4 months. Maybe half a day sometimes, if their schedules lined up like that. But ever since Ilya had spent the summer at Shane’s cottage, ever since they tearily confessed their love to each other in the middle of the night, things had been different. Rose would have said they were clingier now. Ilya would sneak out of the hotel as early as possible now, whereas before he would sometimes drag it on, enjoying the way the wait made Shane squirm. But not anymore, he would leave right after getting back from the game, sometimes even going from the rink straight to Shane's house if they were playing in Montreal. And Shane did the same in Boston. Everyone knew about Boston Lily, so he stopped feeling ashamed about sneaking out to go see “her”. They savoured every single second they could get. And it was so much more than just a quick fuck now. Sometimes they didn’t even get to that before either of them had to move on to the next city. They would just lie in each other's arms, breathing in the scent of one another. They would cook for each other, dance together, and sometimes they would go hours without blinking, not wanting to miss a single moment of their very limited time together.
The game against Tampa went exactly as expected. It was an easy win, 4-1 for the Metros. Shane couldn’t help but think back to Ilya’s text, predicting that exact outcome. The locker room was in a celebratory mood, knowing they just kicked Tampa out of the playoffs. Everyone was laughing while getting changed, upbeat conversations happening all around Shane. Ding!
Lily: i told you
Lily: 4-1 just like i said
Lily: i am hockey oracle
Shane snorted lightly at the text.
Jane: Maybe you are
Jane: But last time you also said Boston will win the cup
Jane: And I’ll make sure that won’t happen
Lily: we will see
Lily: are you going out to celebrate with your team?
Jane: I think we’re gonna go for a drink at the hotel bar
Jane: But you know the superstition about alcohol during playoffs
Lily: :P boring, but yes i know
Lily: call me later? i miss you :(
Jane: Of course I will, I miss you too <3
The team crowded the hotel bar, the small room barely fitting all of them, let alone any of the other guests who were there. The mood was light; they were having a few drinks, mainly beers, but no one was outright drunk. At 10 PM Shane excused himself and went up to his room. He got into bed and called Ilya, who picked up quickly. Ilya congratulated Shane again for winning the game and told him how good he looked on the ice. At 11:30 PM Ilya had to hang up to get ready for bed. Boston wasn’t playing the next day, but he said they had some sort of team bonding exercise and a press conference he would have to be up early for.
“I love you, moye solnyshko, I can’t wait to see you soon.” Ilyas voice was barely above a whisper, the sleepiness evident in it.
“I love you too, Ilyusha.” Shane hung up the call with a smile. Adrenaline was still pumping through his body from the game, so he picked up his book and got to reading.
Shane lost himself in the book and barely heard the buzz of his phone at exactly midnight.
Lily: Happy Birthday, моя любовь
Lily: i know you said you don’t care about your birthday
Lily: but i had to say it first
Shane put the book down and picked up his phone to type a response, when he heard a knock at his door. He figured it would be Hayden or one of the others, too drunk now to remember how Shane felt about his birthday. He didn’t bother opening the door, hoping whoever it was would go away soon enough on their own.
Jane: Thank y–
The knock came again.
Jane: Thank you, my l–
And again. With a loud groan, Shane got up from the bed, shuffling towards the door in his slippers. The knock came again, right as he pushed down the handle to open the door. It swung open slowly with a loud creaking noise, and Shane immediately wanted to slam it closed again.
Right outside his door was one Ilya Rozanov. He was disguised in a large hoodie, sunglasses, and a fake mustache, but it was still very distinctly Ilya. Shane blinked a few times, his jaw falling open in shock.
“Will you let me in, or do you want Hayden to see me out here?” Ilya smirked.
Shane took a step to the side and pulled Ilya into the room, slamming the door behind him and closing the latch as well as the security chain. He tried forming words, but no sounds were coming out.
Ilya pulled the fake mustache and sunglasses off his face and planted a soft kiss on Shane’s lips, “Surprise, moya lyubov. Did you think I would let you be alone on your Birthday?”
“You’re here,” Shane couldn’t believe his eyes. His hands found their way to Ilya’s arms, holding him in place while Shane looked him up and down. “You’re in Florida. Where I am. In my hotel room.”
Ilya chuckled and pulled Shane in for a tight hug, his nose nuzzling into the brunette's hair, inhaling the scent of the shampoo he had missed so much.
“I missed you too much, Hollander, couldn’t wait until after Boston destroys you on the ice.” A soft chuckle fell from both of their lips as Shane walked backwards towards the bed, without letting go of Ilya. They fell on the mattress next to each other, never once unlocking the stare they had on each other.
Shane was breathless from the surprise. He reached for Ilyas's hand and pulled it to his chest. The pressure quickly grounded him. They lay there for a while, it felt like forever, but also not long enough.
“I had to sneak past your stupid drunk teammates downstairs,” Ilya chuckled, “Is good thing they are drunk.”
Shane was still speechless. His gaze was locked on Ilya’s face. Taking in every detail, like he was scared the Russian would disappear if he stopped looking at him for even just one second.
“How did you even get here?”
“You see, they have these things, I think in English they are called planes?” Ilya looked at him with an amused grin. Shane hit his chest softly, resting his hand on it right after.
“I can’t believe you’re here. In the middle of the night. In Tampa!”
“I told you I have a big gift for you. What did you think I was talking about? You are such a pervert, Hollander,” The crooked smirk on Ilyas face made Shane want to kiss him senseless. Instead, he pulled Ilya closer, his face fitting right into the crook of the taller man's neck.
“They had flowers at the airport,” Ilya hummed after a while, “I wanted to get them for you, but you would have to hide them from the rest of the team. I will get you flowers when we play in Montreal again.”
“I like flowers.” Shane chuckled softly, right into the crook of Ilyas's neck. “Are you staying here tonight? We have to leave for the airport at 10 AM.”
“I will stay here,” Ilya’s hand came up to Shane‘s head, scratching at his scalp softly, “I will stay as long as you will have me. I have to be at the airport later than you.”
“I would have you forever, but I don’t think we can do that. Maybe when you play in Montreal.. we can..” Sleepiness took over Shane’s voice, his eyes slowly drifting shut as he fell asleep mid-sentence. Ilya chuckled and readjusted their position on the bed to be more comfortable. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep after that.
The sun peaking through the gap between the curtains is what woke Shane up the next morning. He hadn’t felt this rested in months. He started thinking back to when that would have been. 3 months ago, the last time he had seen Ilya. He didn’t sleep over, the team was flying back early on the next day, but they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms after Ilya fucked him into the mattress. Ilya wanted to order takeout after they had woken back up, but he ended up cooking for them instead. Shane watched him from the counter of the kitchen island. It felt so domestic that it scared both of them, but it also made them more sure than ever that this is what they both wanted. The comfortable silence of sharing a space together, coexisting in their own bubble, like nothing outside of the confinement of their walls mattered. Like they didn’t have to hide who they are and who they loved as soon as the front door opened. It was moments like these when Shane stopped blinking, taking in every second of their happiness.
Ilya stirred in Shane’s arms, a small scowl on his face, the sunshine hitting his eyes directly.
“Good morning, Shane,” Ilya’s voice was raspy when he woke up. Shane thought it sounded sexy.
“Good morning, Ilyusha,” Shane moved Ilya’s hair from his forehead and planted a soft kiss there. “I still can’t believe you came all the way here, just for me.”
“I would go anywhere for you, even different Planet. Far away one, like Saturn,” Ilya’s lips grazed Shane’s jaw, softly kissing his way up to his boyfriend’s mouth. “You should tell Pike you are not coming to breakfast today, we will order room service.”
Shane nodded and sent a quick text to Hayden, saying he didn’t feel like socializing with a group of hungover Hockey players. He took the room phone and called the front desk to order room service for Ilya and himself. The morning went by syrupy slow, with the sunlight still shining in through the gap in the curtains, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. They ate their breakfast in a comfortable silence, reveling in the fact that they had found another opportunity for a stolen moment. A few more hours to add to their shared time. Soft kisses were shared, which eventually turned into more.
Maybe birthdays were exciting after all.