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“What the hell?” Shane's brows furrowed as he stared down at his phone, or more specifically the circle where his mother's face should be. A circle where his face was instead. Maybe his mom was feeling nostalgic? The picture was from a few years ago during one of his and Ilya's many summers at the cottage, a wide smile on his face most likely because his husband was the one taking the picture. It was weird that his mom had it but she and Ilya talked often so he supposed nothing should shock him at this point – especially the two people he loved most sharing pictures of him.
Furthermore, Shane didn’t exactly care about social media all that much, so why should he care if his mom wanted his face as her profile picture? He only had this account for her anyway – well, her and Ilya. “You need it for sponsorship deals” Yuna had told him years ago when he tried to protest starting this forsaken Instagram account. “This is where the money is, Shane.”
She'd been right of course, but money was never important to Shane. What was important was his husband. The man who had unbeknownst to him, been cataloging every moment of their lives together, big or small, on his Instagram for years. And now that Shane knew the Instagram account existed and they were the out and proud proclaimed first husbands of hockey, Shane could admit he was a little addicted to seeing the sappy things Ilya posted about them.
Take today’s picture for example. Ilya’s McGriddle beside Shane’s smoothie and hotcakes, a shot from the breakfast they had this morning at McDonald’s. The caption simply said MCD with SHR and Shane couldn’t help the smile that was tugging at his lips at seeing his initials spelled out for the entire world to see.
Shane Hollander-Rozanov.
Shane double tapped the picture before moving his thumb to scroll when the small circle beside Ilya’s username caught his eye. Is that the same picture from mom’s profile? It was a stupid question because obviously it was but why the hell would both his husband and his mother have his picture rather than one of themselves?
Shane’s interest now peaked, he decided to go to his following, because this profile picture business was suddenly seeming a little more suspect than it did a few minutes ago. And sure enough. Rose Landry. Shane’s face. David Hollander. Shane’s face. Hayden Pike. Shane’s face. The entire fucking Centaurs team. Shane’s face.
“What-?” Shane’s question died on his lips when his husband walked into the living room and plopped himself down on the couch beside him.
“Something wrong, Kotyonok?” The question was innocent enough but Shane had spent over a decade studying Ilya Rozanov and after all these years he knew better. Especially because that stupid fucking, blinding smile of his was failing to be hidden away.
“Did you have something to do with this?” Shane asked, shoving his phone in Ilya’s face.
His husband simply laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “Is a holiday today, no?” Shane immediately started to wrack his brain for what ever it was that Ilya could be referring to. It most certainly was not an anniversary, it wasn’t anyone’s birthday…
“Is day of fools.” Ilya supplied after realizing that Shane had not the slightest idea what his husband was talking about.
And that’s when it hits him. “Do you mean April Fool's Day?”
“Ah.” Ilya snapped his fingers. “That is it. Is funny. Everyone is Shane Hollander-Rozanov for a day.”
“B-but why?” Shane shuttered.
“I thought you would like this better than me switching your skin care products. Is harmless. And Yuna laughed for ten minutes in messages with me and her with you as picture. She thought it looking like us – well, you - were talking to yourself was hilarious.”
That definitely did sound like his mom. “The two of you are scary together, you know that?”
“Mmm” Ilya hummed in assent.
“Okay, well” Shane huffed, as he locked his phone and tossed it onto the coffee table. “How long until you all become you again?”
“Well that depends.” Ilya replied, his smirk now firmly in place.
“On what?”
“How well you beg.”