Long Game (Rachel Reid, 2022)

• FINALMENTE, A CONTINUAÇÃO DE SHANE HOLLANDER E ILYA ROZANOV.
• Não é tão bom quanto Heated Rivalry, mas foi legal continuar a história desses dois personagens tão amados.

Páginas lidas por dia

Destaques e Anotações

Início:

July
Shane had never wanted anything so badly in his life. His goal was right in front of him, and nothing would stop him from reaching it.
“You wish, Hollander,” called a hoarse voice behind him.
Shane felt like his chest was going to explode, but he huffed and pushed himself harder, refusing to give up.

"So," Shane said slowly, "you know that I'm gay." "Of course. You told me." "Yeah. So here's the thing..." "I am bisexual," Ilya blurted out. Farah's lips curved up. "I think I can see where this is going," she said calmly. Well, now they knew how easy it would be for someone to put two and two together if they knew the truth about Ilya's sexuality. "Yeah," Shane said. "I think you do." "We are together," Ilya said, in case she didn't. "Sorry," Shane said. "I know this is going to be complicated for you." "Don't apologize. I love you guys, and I'm happy for you." She laughed. "Can't say I predicted this when I woke up this morning. May I ask how long you've been together?" Shane and Ilya shared a smile, then Ilya said, "A long time. Years." "So it isn't brand-new," Farah said, more to herself than to them, Shane suspected. "Not to ask a stupid question, but it's serious?" "Very," Ilya said. Shane's heart flipped the way it always did when Ilya made it clear how much Shane meant to him.

Awn

"I'm looking forward to seeing the documentary," Farah said. "Their Scott Hunter doc was fantastic." "Did not see it," Ilya said flatly. "I guess they didn't quite capture the real story about you guys, though." No. Ilya and Shane had both been very careful not to give that away. Not that they'd had a lot of direct involvement in the documentary. They'd sat for separate interviews, and had endured a bit of the film crew following them around for a couple of days last season—again, separately—but as far as Shane knew the doc was mostly going to consist of existing game footage and interviews with other people.

Documentario

Maybe one day. After they were both retired. Shane knew some retired NHL stars and they'd been able to easily fade into the background if they'd wanted to. Sometimes even if they didn't want to. Eventually, the world just stopped caring about them. At the moment, Shane and Ilya were both in their prime at twenty-nine years old. Shane had just led his team to his third Stanley Cup victory, and while Ilya was the captain of a much worse team, he was still putting up big numbers in Ottawa. They were both superstars, and they both had a lot of hockey left in them. Shane had every intention of playing another decade at least, and he expected Ilya to do the same. Which meant another decade of hiding, probably. But Shane would do it. He would do anything for Ilya. He'd told him, once, that he was willing to play the long game when it came to their relationship and he'd meant it. "Why are you getting sad?" Ilya asked. Shane blinked at him. "Sorry. Nothing." He kissed him quickly. "I love you." Ilya gave him one of his crooked, sexy smiles. "Of course. Why wouldn't you?"

Eu amo eles

"Can I tell him?" Ilya asked. "Don't even joke about that." Shane sighed. "I love J.J., and he's been really supportive of me being gay, but he's not ready to hear about us. Trust me." "Well, neither was I," Yuna said. "But I got over it." "J.J. isn't my mom." "No," Yuna said. "Your mom is the one making dinner at the end of a long day while you sit on your butt and mope. Come help." "I'm helping," Ilya couldn't resist pointing out. "I know you are." Yuna patted his cheek. "That's why you're my favorite son."

Eles ficaram proximos awwnn

"I think you'd like what we did today." Ilya spoke quietly, in Russian, to the sky. "I hope you are proud." He only ever spoke to one of his parents, though both were dead now. His mother's death had been sudden and devastating. His father had faded away gradually from Alzheimer's, and Ilya still hadn't sorted out his feelings about losing the man who'd never had a nice word to say to him. Or to Ilya's wonderful mother.

Ok ja deu

"This room remind you of anything?" Shane asked as he traced a finger along Ilya's forearm. Ilya's lips curved up. "When you were very unprofessional, making that commercial with me." "Me? You were the one who propositioned me." "After you pointed your boner at me." Shane's mouth fell open. He closed it. Then opened it again. "You were showing off." "Showing off?" "Yeah. With all your naked muscles and ass... flexing." Ilya laughed. "What?" "You knew what you were doing." Ilya kissed his forehead. "Maybe." Shane rested his head on Ilya's shoulder, breathing him in and trying not to wonder how things would be different if Shane hadn't been unable to control his dick that day in the showers. Would Ilya be holding him now, more than a decade later, with a tattoo of a loon on his arm? "I'm glad you're such a show-off," Shane said. Ilya patted his back. "I am glad you get hard so easily." "Shut up,"

Refs

Ilya smiled and kissed him again. "You will love the show. I have heard Fabian is very good." "Oh yeah? Who told you that?" "Harris. You know, the—" "The social media guy who I haven't met but you can't stop talking about? The adorable gay one? You did say he was adorable, right?"

Kkkkkk

Shane remembered the last time they'd been in any kind of club together. It had been years ago, before they'd admitted their feelings for each other. Shane had been with Rose at the time, had been out with her and her friends that night, and Ilya had happened to be at the same Montreal nightclub with some of his teammates. Shane had abandoned Rose on the dance floor, drawn to Ilya like a moth to a flame, and had helplessly watched Ilya make out with a beautiful woman.

Ja havia me esquecido

"Are you going to Monk's?" Luca's eyes went wide. "Are you?" It hurt Ilya's heart how badly this kid wanted him to come out with the team. How much it would mean to him. He knew Luca had idolized him growing up; he'd read the interviews. But Ilya just... couldn't. Not tonight. He didn't have the energy to even fake it tonight. "Next time," he said with a weak attempt at a smile. Later, in bed, Ilya couldn't get his brain to shut up. It was unfortunate because his brain had nothing nice to say about him. He knew, rationally, that he wasn't worthless. He was an NHL all-star, the captain of his team, and was beloved by fans. He had a wonderful boyfriend who loved him so much he was willing to endure a lot of stress and sneaking around just to be with him. He was loved. But he wasn't sure he deserved to be. He couldn't make himself believe that. Not right now.

ILYA VAI FICAR DEPRE???

"Hey, maybe Ruby and Jade will be old enough to babysit your kids! Man, that's wild to think about." It was wild to think about. Every aspect of it was wild. "Yeah." "You got plans for tomorrow?" Hayden asked. "I'm hanging out with Rose." "Oh, sweet! Can I come?" "No. Last time you babbled the entire time like a drooling fanboy." "Yeah, because she's a giant movie star!"

Eu tinha cabado de pensar nela!

Ilya drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the Bad Bunny song that he'd recently added to his pregame playlist. He needed to get his fill of good music now because it was Evan Dykstra's turn to be in charge of the locker room music, and that meant country.

Musica

"Fuckin' A!" Bood yelled as he slammed into Ilya in the corner, wrapping him in a hug. Ilya had scored early in the first period, making it 1–0 for Ottawa. The goal siren blared, the fans who'd bothered to show up cheered, and the team's goal song started playing (DJ Khaled's "All I Do Is Win," which seemed like an ironic choice to Ilya).

Musica

Ilya: In traffic. Shane: Fuck. Where? Ilya: Montreal? I don't fucking know. Shane: Hurry up. Ilya: Ok. I will ask the driver to make the car fly. For a full minute, Shane didn't reply. Then he wrote, Are you over the bridge yet at least? Ilya chuckled and wrote, You seem a bit horny. Shane: I'm fucking dying. The blunt admission made Ilya's cock twitch. He wrote, Get yourself ready for me then. Shane: What do you think I've been doing for the past twenty minutes? Oh. Fuck. Ilya: You better not come without me. Shane: Then you'd better hurry up. Ilya was getting way too aroused in this unmoving taxi. He should put his phone in his pocket, take some cooling breaths, and think about something else. But instead he asked, Where are you? Shane: Bed. Ilya: Fingering yourself? Shane: Yes. Ilya: How many? Shane: 3 Ilya sucked in a breath, then wrote, You need something bigger. Shane: I know! That's why you need turmeric. Shane: Need to hurry, I mean. Fucking voice-to-text. Ilya: Get yourself close. Right to the edge. But don't come.

Achei que nao teria mais essas cenas ridiculas

Fuck, he'd been wanting to do this for so long. He missed kissing Shane possibly more than anything else. Shane chased his mouth when Ilya pulled away, but Ilya only smiled. Then he gripped Shane's thighs and hauled his hips up off the bed. Shane rested his ankles on Ilya's shoulders as Ilya lined up and drove into him in one smooth thrust. They both swore loudly, then Ilya made eye contact with Shane, checking to make sure he was good. Shane nodded, and Ilya nodded back. Then, Ilya started pounding into him in a steady, powerful rhythm that had Shane panting and clawing at the bed sheets in seconds. "My impatient slut," Ilya growled as he fucked him. "Could not even wait for me." "Just," Shane gasped, "being efficient." "So good," Ilya said, punctuating his words with thrusts. "At time. Management." "Wanted your dick." "You have it. Is it good?" "Fuck yes. Love it. Harder."

Nao faz sentido comecar sozinho depois de tanto tempo esperando

Shane nodded, his eyes glazed and blissed out. Ilya hauled Shane up until only his upper back, shoulders, and head were on the mattress, then started a steady, ruthless rhythm, driving into Shane hard enough to make them both lose their minds. "How many days?" Ilya gritted out. "How long has it been?" "Three, I think? Four? When was the last time we had phone sex?" "Four days ago," Ilya answered quickly. He didn't need to do the math. He knew. The difference was he'd jerked off at least once a day since. Twice most days.

Punheteiros demais

Across from them stood two seven-year-old girls wearing princess dresses, and behind them was a large assembled audience of stuffed toys and Arthur (wearing a firefighter costume and a freshly painted blue manicure). Arthur pressed a button on a toy that played fifteen seconds of a song from Moana, and they were ready to begin. "This is the wedding of Shane Hollander and Ilya..." Jade narrowed her eyes at Ilya. "Rozanov," he supplied. She nodded. "Rose-noff." Shane snickered, and Ilya nudged him. "Shane. Keep it together. Is our wedding day." "Shane, do you promise to love Ilya and be his husband forever?" Ruby asked. Shane gazed at his ridiculous-looking boyfriend, who smiled back at him. One of the flowers on his headband was holding on by a thread, dangling in front of Ilya's raised left eyebrow. Suddenly—absurdly—Shane's throat felt tight. "I do," he said quietly, and with an embarrassing amount of feeling. "Ilya," said Jade, "do you promise to love Shane and be his husband forever?" "I do," Ilya said. "Forever." There was a slight tremor in Ilya's voice, which surprised and relieved Shane. At least Shane wasn't the only one getting inappropriately emotional. "Okay," Jade said. "Do the rings now." Ilya took Shane's hand, and slipped the child-size purple heart ring onto his pinkie, down to his second knuckle. Shane huffed out a shaky laugh.

Mal posso esperar por essa cena na televisão

"I now pronounce you husband and husband," Ruby said. Jade elbowed her. "I was supposed to say that!" "No you weren't! You say the kissing thing." "Oh yeah. You may now kiss." Shane raised his eyebrows at Ilya, silently asking You wanna? Ilya leaned in and kissed him quickly on the mouth while the kids whooped and threw handfuls of paper they'd ripped up into the air. Arthur hit play on the Moana song again. After the kiss, Ilya pressed his forehead against Shane's, and they just stood there like that, frozen in the moment. "Does this mean tonight is our honeymoon?" Shane asked quietly. "Let's pretend it is."

❤️

"I love you," Ilya murmured against Shane's lips. "I love you too." "But we are not having four children." Shane laughed. "God no. Of course not." "It would be too much. With the dogs." "Um. I think you mean cat." "I did not mean cat. Definitely not." "How many dogs exactly?" "Some. Maybe one, to start. And then he needs a friend, so two. Maybe they don't like each other so we get number three to be, um..." "A mediator?" "Okay. Maybe, yes." "And if they don't like that one?" "The fourth dog will—" Shane stepped out of Ilya's arms. "No." Ilya laughed. "One dog." "One dog," Shane agreed. "You will want more. Just wait." Just wait. The words rang in Shane's ears as he made his way to the kitchen. He believed in their relationship, and was confident that they would have everything they wanted when the time was right. But sometimes he wished the right time was now.

E se o Shane desiste de sua carreira para ficar com Ilya

Ilya chuckled, and twisted the toy again. "So dangerous. Driving in that condition. Irresponsible." "Fucking hurry up," Shane complained.

É Tao ridicula essas cenas

The next morning, when the sun had just begun to rise, Ilya watched Shane drive away. He stood on his front step for several minutes after, staring in the direction the car had gone, and shivering in his gym shorts and T-shirt. Then, he went inside, closed the door, and burst into tears. When he'd finished crying, some uncertain amount of time later, he felt more exhausted than he had after any hockey game. He was crumpled on the floor, slumped against his front door, and standing up seemed like an insurmountable feat.

:(

He decided that, yes. He should probably get some professional help.

:)

There was a bench facing the water with no one around, so Ilya sat. He pulled out his phone and opened his saved photos. He didn't keep his photos very organized, but he had one album he'd named "Boring." He opened it now, and scrolled through the six photos it contained. They were all more or less the same, taken years ago during the NHL Awards. Ilya and Shane had been presenting an award together, and the scripted banter had involved Ilya asking Shane for a selfie. Ilya had used his real phone, and he'd taken real photos. Six of them.

Aaaahhhh demais

"And, if you want to be more vocal about your... personal life, maybe the NHL can help you with that. We can plan something together. We'd be happy to do that with you. For you." "I'll... think about it." Crowell smiled like a panther. "Fantastic." He stood, so Shane stood as well. "Always a pleasure sitting down with one of the league's best players, Shane. You know, you're my nephew's favorite."

Adoro quando fala a parte ruim de nhl

"Sex," he said bluntly. "When I was old enough, sex was the other thing I did to keep my mind and body busy. Sex and Hockey could be the title of my autobiography. I'm not complicated." He stretched his arm along the back of the couch, trying to show how relaxed and uncomplicated he was. It probably wasn't convincing. "May I ask when 'old enough' was?" she said. "Fourteen, I think. Something like that." He hesitated a moment, wondering if he was ready to reveal this, then decided to just go for it. "It was girls only, at first. Then boys too. Not as many, but some."

Nossa teve varios outros mesmo

In the middle of November, without warning, Ilya got a new, unwanted teammate. Troy Barrett was definitely a talented forward, and a potential upgrade to Ilya's current linemate, Tanner Dillon, but he'd also always seemed like a total prick to Ilya.

UHHULLLL TROOYY

Ilya watched another cloud of smoke disappear into the night sky. I know, sweetheart, he replied silently. I know. He imagined Shane would be similarly unforgiving if Ilya took his own life. Not that Ilya ever would. Unless he couldn't help it. I'm trying to get better.

#suicidio

He finished the cigarette, stamped out the butt, then picked it up and put it in his coat pocket. Smoking was one thing, but littering was one bad habit too far.

AEEEE CARALHOOOO

He listened to a Russian language lesson podcast as he drove, which kept his mind alert as he concentrated on translating as much as he could. The podcast wasn't quite as effective at keeping him awake as the butt plug had been. Shane smiled to himself, still surprised he'd actually done that. Seeing Ilya in that ridiculous gladiator costume had fried his capacity for rational thought. One moment he'd been telling himself it would be absurd to drive all the way to Ottawa for a quick fuck, and the next he'd been exiting Montreal city limits with a plug in his ass.

Kkkkkk

"Watch. See how beautiful you are like this." "I don't think I can. It's too much." Another soft kiss to his neck, and then to his temple. "Stay there. One second." Ilya left, and Shane cracked one eye open. He turned to watch Ilya, and to avoid looking at his own reflection. Ilya was standing near the stairs, and a second later, the overhead lights dimmed by half. "Better?" Ilya asked. Shane glanced back at the mirror. It was less intense, with the lights dimmed. "Why do you have sexy mood lighting in your gym?" "You have it in yours." "Yeah. For yoga and meditation. Two things you don't do." "But you do them. So I have lights that dim. For you." Shane's heart wobbled. "Oh." "And—" Ilya returned to his position behind Shane, wrapping an arm across Shane's chest and pulling him back to rest against Ilya's bare torso "—is good for this."

Awn nao aguento

Shane traced a finger over his own giddy face in the photo. At the time he'd felt embarrassed and unprofessional about not being able to keep a straight face. But now he felt a thrill shoot through him as he remembered all of the details of that day: the heat between them, the civil war that had raged inside Shane as he'd fought to ignore his attraction to Ilya. The cliff they'd been just about to jump off together.

Lindo

Ilya didn't want to fight. He was exhausted, and miserable, and his boyfriend was breaking his fucking heart.

:(

Quietly, in a voice that couldn't disguise his pain, he said, "I already chose you, Hollander."

It would be ridiculous to say this was their first fight—their entire relationship seemed like one unending fight sometimes—but this was the first one that had left Shane feeling terrified. Obviously he had fucked something up. He hadn't been paying attention to Ilya, or to what Ilya had given up for him, and he now realized that Ilya had given up a whole fucking lot for Shane. For them.

Que imbecil

Shane realized that most of Ilya's posts were, in weird cryptic ways, about Shane. His entire account was like a secret diary of their relationship, full of inside jokes and little references that only Shane would understand. And Shane hadn't even bothered to look at it before. Not really.

Nossa

"You are a human being with a lot of responsibilities and pressure. You play a physically taxing, dangerous sport for a living. You are hiding a very big secret while also living your life in a spotlight. You are in love with a man you aren't allowed to be in love with. You are carrying trauma from your childhood that you've never allowed yourself to process properly. And also you feel things very deeply. Deeper than maybe anyone realizes." Ilya blinked. He hadn't actually been expecting an answer. Especially not one that was so... thorough. "Is that all?" he said dryly. "I think you are depressed." Ilya hugged his own chest protectively. "Like my mother." "Not necessarily. Depression is complicated and manifests in many different ways. And there are many ways to treat it."

Depressão

Troy seemed happy about it too. Or maybe he was mostly happy that Harris had traveled with the team for this southern road trip.

O AVIAO, TINHA ME ESQUECIDO

A bang louder than any noise Ilya had heard during a flight rocked the plane. Everything shook violently for a moment, and Ilya's can of Coke fell to the floor. He didn't have time to worry about it before the plane fucking dropped. Ilya was screaming. He knew he was screaming and that he should probably stop, but everyone around him was screaming too. He gripped the arms of his seat and closed his eyes, as if either of those things would help.

Parte do aviao

To please not let this plane crash, because Ilya had wasted so much fucking time hiding how much he loved Shane—from the world, from Shane, from himself. He needed more time. He needed to love Shane properly.

O momento que troy viu

Then, Shane was holding a ring, pinched between two fingers, in the space between himself and Ilya. "Shane," Ilya said again, unable to stop himself. "I choose you, Ilya. I promise I will always, always choose you." Shane's eyes began to shimmer. He took a deep breath and said, "Ilya Grigoryevich Rozanov, will you marry me?"

😭😭😭

"I really am disappointed we aren't going to have sex," Svetlana sighed. She was slumped against him, head resting on his shoulder. They'd both had a lot to drink. Ilya chuckled. "You can't convince me that you're hard up for sex." "I'm not," she agreed. "But men are so boring. Why are you all so boring?" "I thought I was exciting." "You were. Now you're going to marry a Canadian. Boring." "I don't know how many people would describe my secret relationship with my rival boring." She laughed. "I don't suppose you have a cigarette." "I quit." "Of course you did. Boring."

Poderia ser um cap maior da conversa dos dois

"You know I showered after the game, yes?" Ilya said with a gentle, teasing smile when Shane led him to the bathroom and its giant rainfall shower. "This shower will be better." Shane turned on the water and let the room fill with steam as they both undressed in the bedroom. It took longer than it needed to because they kept pausing to make out a bit. "Come on," Shane said softly. "Shower." Ilya always looked spectacular when he was naked and wet. Shane had no idea how his teammates were able to shower with him without losing their shit. Shane certainly hadn't been able to, all those years ago.

E quando eles jogavam juntos no all star

"You can have it. Anything." A soft sound escaped Ilya's lips, close to a whimper. "Take me apart, Hollander."

Vai aconteceeer

"I feel like shit." "Try another Snickers bar." "I shouldn't have eaten that. Or maybe I should have been eating them all along. Fuck, what am I even doing with this diet?" "Trying to live forever, I thought." "With you? No thank you." "Eat what you want. If that is only healthy things, is fine. If you want treats, is also fine. It is your life, Hollander. Not the NHL's. Not the Montreal Voyageurs'." "You sure about that?" "I think we are both going to have to decide about that soon."

Nao entendi o shane

Ilya considered, as he walked around the slushy sidewalks of his neighborhood, that he should probably book another appointment with Galina. It had been a couple of weeks, and he didn't want to get lazy about it. He certainly had something to talk about now. Oddly, he'd been feeling relatively peaceful since they'd been outed. Shane, he knew, was an absolute wreck, but Ilya was ready to face whatever happened next. Even though what was going to happen next was a meeting with Crowell. He should be nervous about that, but he was more curious than anything.

A depressao foi tao rapida

Curious, and ready to fight. Ilya passed his neighbors' house—the one where Willa and Andrew lived—and stopped dead in his tracks. There was a large hand-drawn sign attached to the tree near the end of their driveway: We love you, Ilya!

<3

"You're a free agent now. Get the fuck out of there. Go somewhere that will appreciate you." Shane snorted. "Like where? Ottawa?" Ilya held his breath. Because of course, yes. Ottawa. "I mean, I couldn't, could I?" Shane said.

Era obvio

"Harris," Ilya called from the middle of the yard. "Play something romantic." "You're letting me choose?" Harris sounded terrified. "Just put on whatever. Is fine." Ilya glanced at Shane's anxious face. "Something short." Ilya held out his hand to Shane. "Oh, are you leading?" Shane asked. "Yes. Because you can't dance." Shane huffed and took his hand, then placed his other hand on Ilya's back as the opening vocals of Rihanna's "Diamonds" started playing. "This sounds like a weird choice," Shane said. "No," Ilya said softly. "Is perfect." They danced—well, rotated—under the lights and surrounded by everyone they loved as Rihanna sang lyrics that, secretly, had always made Ilya think of Shane.

Kkkkk rihanna