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The first photo, that he takes himself, is at night in the hotel gym, just after the draft.
It's a really objectionable photo, taken on a shitty flip phone camera, they're both sweaty and collapsed on the floor in front of the mirror after having spent too long on those bikes. Taking turns to gulp down water from Ilya's bottle because perfect Hollander forgot his amongst all the chaos of a dead quiet gym in the middle of the night. Ilya's honestly impressed Hollander went for so long, he knew he had been going for a little while before Ilya showed up and still almost managed to keep up, he would never admit it though.
Hollander raises his eyebrow at Ilya when he pulls out his phone, angles it towards the mirror to try and capture the both of them in the frame of the small screen, to take a mirror selfie of the two of them. Ilya can't resist opening his mouth at the confused face being pulled at him,
“For the memories, to remember I beat you twice tonight”
The photo manages to catch Hollander just as he starts to laugh, trying to turn his face away from Ilya to keep up the idea he's mad but instead accidentally giving the reflection – and the photo – a better view of his forming smile. The tensions that had been building are suddenly broken and somehow the reality that they're just teenagers fucking around in the middle of the night, snaps back into place as they start breathlessly laughing. A little exhausted and just a bit giddy, it lets them briefly forget the media spectacle they had been part of only hours earlier. Let's them briefly forget the weight of what tonight actually means for the two of them, despite how much they may want it; it's still a lot to stare down the barrel of their future like they have tonight.
Ilya actually finds himself somewhat terrified, alongside the anxious excitement of it all, to start a new life in a new country. In a language he only speaks just enough.
But for a moment, for this moment listening to laughter die off to comfortable silence, it doesn't feel so bad.
Hollander finally gets up, once he's caught his breath enough to be able to drag himself upright before gently speaking,
“I think I'm finally tired enough to go to sleep”
“Am sorry you could not keep up with me”
A small white lie for the other man.
“Once again, I don't think you are”
He certainly has Ilya there, caught out unashamedly.
“No, not really”
Ilya knows he's smiling, breathing easy enough now to look smug about it, as if he hasn't also collapsed on the floor of this hotel gym.
“I'll see you around Rozanov”
And fuck Ilya certainly hopes so, almost enough to make Hollander promise him.
▪︎—▪︎—▪︎
The next couple he took were so reminiscent of their first meeting. A car park outside the rink being used for the juniors championship, while Ilya has once again snuck away to smoke.
He pulls out his phone to take a photo of Hollander, while he rolls his eyes and pretends to be annoyed by it, despite having sought him out once again. This time so sure that it's his turn to win. Still, in revenge he pulls out his own phone to take one of Ilya, in the middle of side eyeing Hollander, taking an inhale of his cigarette while being reminded that he shouldn't smoke.
Also stuck trying to seem annoyed while being kind of delighted.
This spurs Ilya to tug him over for a terrible back camera selfie of them both looking irritated and pouting.
He's looking forward to his Boston move more now, and the prospect of being able to do this more. Undeniably the competition, yes, competing against Hollander is electric and exciting in all the ways hockey should be, the ways that make him love the sport. But he is also looking forward to being able to grab these moments outside of hockey with him. Even if he knows they can't be conventional ‘friends’ due to the already forming rivalry narratives, he's enjoyed these moments so far.
It's momentarily reassuring, once again, amidst the chaos of everything ramping up to be stood alongside Hollander, who stands in the eye of the storm right next to him.
Maybe it helps that Hollander is also hot, and every time he catches sight of his freckles, scrunching up at Ilya and the camera, he has to stop himself from trying to flirt in public.
▪︎—▪︎—▪︎
Somehow his rivalry suggestion worked, he managed to convince CCM to drag Hollander out to the same promotional shoot as Ilya.
So yes, there's all the photos that CCM takes, including all the outtakes because after a few hours of having to stare down at each other “angrily”, the whole thing started to seem really silly. But there's also Ilya's personal collection, because at this point a habit’s a habit.
This is how the next series of pictures get taken, they're told to take 5 because they couldn't stop laughing, couldn't school their faces for long enough to get past the frankly ridiculous giggling coming from them. A break that they spend taking sneaky photos of each other from where they've sat down, gradually getting their cameras closer and closer to each other's face until they're basically just taking fishbowl style photos of each other's phone partially obscuring their face.
By the time they return to shooting the director decided they needed to be separated for any work to be done, and that paired shots are done for the day. Separated like school children who wouldn't stop talking at the back of a classroom and not the professional athletes they technically are now.
And then later that night, when the tone had lost the silly nature of the shoot, a mirror selfie angled to reveal them standing together, shoulders bare. Ilya with his hand at Hollander's hip, a bit too possessively for what's supposed to be a one night stand to get their curiosity out of their systems.
▪︎—▪︎—▪︎
It becomes a habit, marking their meetups together through various photos of each other and selfies. Most of them are questionable quality, blurry and pulling faces at each other, no reason to keep them, hoard them like they do. Not when there's an abundance of professionally taken photos of the both of them, even some together, that are theoretically much nicer. Ilya has a soft spot though for the smile Hollander gives him and apparently only him, and never flashes in public. He's learning the difference between the Hollander in public, the hockey prodigy and how he acts away from everyone else. Every photo he captures of Hollander's off ice persona is something amazing to him, proof of something he doesn't dare to name.
Ilya knows Hollander keeps his collection in a password protected folder on his phone, and occasionally clears them out onto a USB drive – for “safety” from someone peeking at his phone. Although Ilya suspects it's for other safekeeping reasons instead.
Ilya on the other hand has a folder in his phone gallery titled “boring”, the cover photo very cleverly being a screenshot of some random document. Some of the photos in the growing collection were silly, some bordered too close to wanting for his slavic appearances.
It was fun when he finally got himself an iPhone and was able to use the front camera, watch him and Hollander pull faces in real time, make sure they're both actually in frame.
He keeps every photo anyway, regardless of quality.
▪︎—▪︎—▪︎
That night in Hollander's “investment property” , once he finally gets there, after years of anticipating; Ilya takes more photos than he should. Some of which quickly become his favourites.
There's one of them in bed, incredibly incriminating if anyone were to see it, of Ilya using Hollander's chest like a pillow, freshly showered. Hollander's still a bit sweaty, smiling softly and incredibly out of it in the afterglow, and beyond gorgeous. He stares up at the camera perfectly content, absent of his usual pretend irritation, face flushed and freckles standing out against his skin, visible even in the low lamplight that he seems to light the whole apartment with. Ilya looks a bit shell shocked in it.
And there's one of Hollander sitting in the stairwell, still a little bit floaty, hugging Ilya's coat and looking up at him. It's devastating to be on the receiving end of that look, of his big doe eyes looking so content in this little bubble they've made for themselves. Even if it could never last, Hollander, once free of holding Ilya's coat, pulls out his own phone and snaps a picture of Ilya putting his arms through the sleeves. Probably looking equally soft and smitten in all the ways they're not allowed to be.
But the bubble must break, reality beyond this apartment returns, Ilya's cab arrives and the sound of the city comes blaring as he opens the door. He mourns the moment as soon as it ends, as the pressure of Sochi and going back to Russia starts to weigh in again.
The photo of Shane sat on the stairs becomes one of his favourites to look back at and torture himself with what ifs over the next few months. Months he tries to prove he's strong enough to be worth something, maybe to move on from Shane Hollander who is starting to become a fixture in Ilya's life in ways he shouldn't allow, maybe to prove he's worth Hollanders time.
▪︎—▪︎—▪︎
Before Russia's loss at the Olympics, and before Ilya almost ruins everything, there's a hastily taken selfie after they ran into each other in the Olympic village.
He knows he's been ignoring Hollander, stress and fear meaning he doesn’t trust himself to react sensibly to his presence right now.
They're tucked between buildings, both of them in their respective countries' jackets to survive the Sochi cold. After they'd bumped into each other Ilya pulled them down the thin alleyway,
“I only have minute”
“Hi Rozanov same”
Hollander looked briefly annoyed and then just pleased to see Ilya, it's almost heartbreaking to know how things were the last time they were together. To know he can't have that, especially here at this twisting version of home.
Ilya takes a photo, Hollander takes one of his own too. In them they both look proud, maybe of themselves, maybe of each other. Excited by what this means for their careers, that they're Olympians. Excited at the prospect of a Russia - Canada match up later in the games.
For a brief moment during his trip back to Russia; Ilya is smiling. A genuine toothy grin at being able to see Hollander, and the potential this trip holds with him, a smile that hasn't blessed Russian soil in over a decade and probably never will again.
▪︎—▪︎—▪︎
A few months later he finds himself standing on stage with Hollander, both of them, but especially Hollander, doing their best to smile and act for the cameras.
Although Hollander looks legitimately annoyed in places. Ilya can hardly blame him, after how he acted in Sochi after Russia's loss, sending him away like nothing. Good and sweet and kind Hollander who just wanted to be helpful.
Ilya takes the scripted selfies, 6 in total by rapidly pressing the button, Hollander's eyes are a touch wide by the end where Ilya's thumb had been possessively rubbing at the nape of his neck. A possessive touch he is far from entitled to but selfish enough to take anyway.
Then, when back in his hotel room, there's a selfie, just for them and not the cameras, not for the spectacle of the crowd and their coworkers. They're half dressed in their tuxedos, Ilya's shirt wide open revealing his chest, Hollanders lost his tie and jacket and is on the way to joining Ilya in starting to lose his shirt. Once again a photo where Ilya is looking unreasonably smug by his win, and Hollander, despite the protests otherwise; looking proud.
They can pretend for a minute, in moments like this, that they can have this, pretend they know what the fuck they're even doing.
▪︎—▪︎—▪︎
The habit holds, whenever they get a moment to take dumb photos of each other and selfies they take it. Sometimes they send particularly unflattering ones from their camera roll to each other, just to jokingly ruin their ego after winning a game or being a bit too smug (often in Ilya's case)
Hollander once sent one to Ilya after he'd left with just the caption,
I like this one :)
Ilya sent one back in return, from a few months prior, taken in a hotel room of many,
This is one of my favourites
Freckles!!
▪︎—▪︎—▪︎
When Ilya opens the door to his apartment, Shane is there with his phone raised, already taking an unsuspecting sneak shot of Ilya. Instead of saying hello or greeting him in any sensible way like the polite Canadian he should be.
Ilya fears he probably ran the gauntlet of emotion from shock to insufferably fond very quickly and visibly, and Shane likely captured all of it on camera.
Before pulling Shane in through the door by his waist and backing him onto the kitchen counter and stepping between his legs.
“Hello Hollander”
“Hello”
Shane looks so proud of himself, Ilya desperately wants to kiss the look off his face. Instead of that, because he has self control, he pulls out his own phone and takes a photo way too close to Shane's face. Capturing one of his eyes and a smattering of freckles, he looks a bit silly, and mostly incredibly gorgeous.
Ilya then flips the phone around to take a selfie of the two of them, perfectly normal, before a second one of him licking Shane's face while he borderline shrieks. The smug look transfers back to Ilya while Shane paws at his face to try and dry it.
“You're lucky you're shirtless Rozanov, or I'd be drying my face on you instead of my own jacket sleeve”
“And hide this view from you, Hollander? You would miss it”
“Fuck you”
“If you continue to ask so nicely, sure”
Ilya takes a bunch throughout the day, there's one of them half asleep in his bed, and one of Shane rolling his eyes while Ilya takes the least sneaky photos possible of Shane sitting at his kitchen island in Ilya's clothes. Looking a little unsure but also stunningly scrunched up, drowning in one of Ilya's soft and big t-shirts (not at all chosen for Shane specifically). His hair sticking up from sex and sleep.
And then when Shane walks out later, Ilya takes to spending the next few months staring back at photos from that day, and what he thought for just a moment, he could actually have.
▪︎—▪︎—▪︎
Ilya takes so many photos at the Tampa All Stars game that his team mates and other players start to threaten to take his phone from him. He's enjoying himself for the first time in months, and despite his protests he can still admit to himself it's because of Shane.
Beautiful talented funny Shane who he finally got to play with instead of against.
Some of the team ones end up on Instagram, Ilya using the opportunity to lightly rib Shane, and mark the weekend's success. The ones of Shane, of just the 2 of them, end up in the “boring” folder. If they looked fond of each other before, they're starting to look positively love sick in photos now.
And there's a selfie of the two of them in the hotel room bed, partially covered by the sheet, looking content in each other's arms, in the hours they're carving out for each other again.
▪︎—▪︎—▪︎
The Cottage becomes a masterclass of stealth selfies and photo taking. He must take about 100 throughout the weeks they get together (maybe a bit exaggerated, maybe not).
Switching between enjoying Shane's company and wanting to document it for himself, for them.
They send each other the highlights to add to the collections still forming. They even end up with one including Shane's parents after the second (and much less awkward) dinner.
It's kind of amazing to scroll through and sort out later, back in Boston, and it keeps Ilya going until he can see Shane again.
Knowing that they're making it happen, that he can have this.
▪︎—▪︎—▪︎
The habit continues to shift and grow, especially once Ilya finds himself in Ottawa and closer to Shane, able to see him more. Once they started building their lives together.
There's many more photos of Shane, silly selfies and stealth shots and photos of his feet in Shane's lap whilst he pretends to be inconvenienced.
There's even a new folder called boring-ders for photos that have to do with the Hollanders as a whole. Shane's parents sometimes join in on this game they seem to constantly play when around each other.
David and Yuna take sneaky photos of the two of them, sending them into the group chat so they can show their spoils, and have access to them too. Some of them are silly, the two of them faux fighting or bickering or competing over board games. There's so many of Ilya in the middle of shoveling David's food into his mouth while Shane judges (and stares fondly) from next to him. David is always thrilled to have Ilya there complimenting his food and documents for posterity.
There's also so many that Ilya is grateful for. Photos of them sat together, shoulders to hips pressed together, forgetting the concept of personal space. Photos of reuniting hugs after weeks apart captured by Yuna as they forget the world around them and cling to each other. Accidental naps on the sofa with limbs tangled together captured by David.
Ilya knows Shane keeps his collection updated methodically, that he even bought a new USB to make sure there's enough room for both of them to save copies of their collections. Ilya still makes sure to keep a handful (most of them) of his favourites from throughout the years so he can scroll when he's feeling lonely, when he misses Shane like a missing limb.
Although they see each other more now, they still spend enough time apart that every time they reunite feels massive. Still apart enough that they keep up the ritual of selfies and dumb photos to remember that this is real. Pieces of moments to hoard and keep hold of to keep them going in the long stretches where their schedules don't line up.
Ilya wants more, he always wants more of Shane. But for now he'll cling to these always too brief moments captured on camera.
▪︎—▪︎—▪︎
When Shane posts the statement online, he accompanies it with some of the photos through the years that they've taken, that friends who knew and his parents have taken of the two of them after realising the thing they have about it.
Most of them are simple, nice photos that are undeniably casual, but still clearly in love. Matching pajamas at Christmas with Yuna and David, smiling at each other across the sofa, selfies taken in home gyms and at the cottage. It paints a picture of their lives together over the years they've known each other, over the years they've been Shane & Ilya instead of Hollander & Rozanov.
It works well, it almost has Ilya crying at their inclusion.
When Hayden Pike posts his support, he includes a couple of photos of them with his kids, sparkly hair clips in and nails painted. The two of them lacking personal space sharing one chair in the Pikes backyard at some bbq.
Uncle Shane and Uncle Ilya, sometimes I think the kids love them more than me.
Jackie tweets a photo of them pointing their phone cameras at each other and standing close enough that you know they're only capturing half of the other's face, caught in the act of their rituals, smiling too wide for how many times they've done that exact move over the years. Unguarded expressions that are made just for each other usually, that anyone who knows them even in passing knows that this means everything to them just from this photo alone.
These two are stupid in love and do this all the time believe it or not. A joy to know separately and together.
Ilya is sat with Shane, looking for something else though, he scrolls through an album, filled with photos of him and Shane, still lovingly titled boring after all these years, and finds one from the early days. They must have only been about 20, Shane looks so young with his fringe pushed forward, before he started growing his hair out and before Rose's stylist got ahold of him.
The quality is kind of rubbish, blurry and taken on the back camera of the blackberry Ilya had at the time, just before he switched to smartphones, before phones came with a front camera as standard. He had managed to catch Shane off guard, laughing, reaching out to bat the phone away and sat in some hotel room of many. While Ilya looks so young as well and so insufferably smug, with all the confidence of a man on top of the world already and not really understanding the weight of it fully. He doesn’t remember what he said or did anymore to cause that reaction from Shane, but he was always so happy, especially in the early years that he could make Shane laugh or smile for real.
In the photo he finds they both look so unbearably fond already. It's a photo that's been carefully transferred across about 8 different phones over the years and kept like the precious thing it is. The Ilya in this photo wouldn't be able to believe the Ilya of today has pulled up Instagram, and is actually posting it.
It's bittersweet in a way, to have scrolled so far back into their history to find this photo again, it’s watching a movie in reverse. Nostalgic and heart wrenching and reassuring.
Because at 17 - 18 - 19 even 20 taking these dumb photos of each other whenever their paths crossed, there was no way to know what it would come to mean. The fact that blurry grainy photos will act as proof of existence. So much more meaningful than perfectly edited photoshoots or neutral team photos.
A photo like this, like so many of them, that ultimately is kind of shitty but candid in ways that feel real. It feels like the correct place for them, for him to finally share this big part of his life (his whole world if you were to accuse him of being sentimental) on his own terms.
In the end the caption is just 4 words long, after everything that has happened, the drama and the fallout and the Crowell of it all, and the joint media perfect statement they for some reason had to make about their relationship.
4 words is all he needs, next to this grainy photo, to explain everything,
We were just kids