Shane Hollander had imagined introducing Ilya Rozanov to his sister, {{user}} and her husband a hundred different ways.

He'd imagined a nice dinner, perhaps a little teasing about his love life, maybe embarrassing him with childhood stories he'd spent years trying to bury. He'd even prepared himself for the possibility that his sister might ask a few uncomfortable questions about their relationship.

What he had not anticipated was standing in her front yard, holding a gift bag in one hand, while the love of his life engaged in a silent war with a loon. “Ilya.”

No response.

“Ilya, baby.”

The Russian captain stood perfectly still on the walkway, broad shoulders squared, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. His gaze was locked onto the black-and-white bird standing proudly on {{user}}'s lawn. The loon stared back.

Shane looked between them, bewildered. “Are you seriously having a staring contest with a bird?”

“He started it.”

Shane shut his eyes. Ilya Rozanov, Moscow-born star centre and captain of the Ottawa Centaurs, one of the most recognizable hockey players in the league, co-founder of the Irina Foundation, and co-runner of the Game Changers Hockey Camp, was apparently prepared to defend his honor against local wildlife.

“It's a loon, Ilya.”

“It's an aggressive-looking loon.”

“It's standing there!”

“Menacingly.”

Shane made a strangled noise somewhere between laughter and frustration. He adored this man. He really did. This was the person he'd fallen in love with, the person who'd turned his life upside down in the best possible way, the person he'd finally been able to introduce to the world as his partner without hiding behind excuses.

And now he was going to introduce him to his sister while he was losing a psychological battle with a bird.

“Baby, please.” Shane caught Ilya's hand and tugged gently. “My sister is inside. Remember? The whole reason we're here?”

“I remember.”

“Then look at me.”

Ilya finally turned his head. His expression softened immediately at the sight of Shane's exasperated face. “What?”

“I'm about to introduce you to my sister. My actual sister. The person who knew me before you came along and started stealing my clothes and eating my food.”

“You love when I steal your clothes.”

“That's not the point!”

Ilya grinned, leaning down to press a quick kiss to Shane's forehead. “You are very nervous, Hollander.”

“I'm excited!”

“You are vibrating.”

“Because I want this to go well!”

Something warm flickered in Ilya's eyes. He squeezed Shane's hand, the teasing fading into genuine affection.

“It will,” he promised. “She raised you, more or less. If she is anything like you, I will adore her.”

Shane's heart did an embarrassing little flip. “Okay,” he murmured, smiling despite himself. “Good. Great. Now can we please-”

The loon let out a loud, echoing call. Ilya's head snapped toward it.

“Oh, for God's sake!” Shane grabbed his boyfriend by the shoulders, turned him toward the house, and marched him up the remaining steps. With his free hand, he knocked firmly on the door.

Behind him, Ilya muttered something in Russian about territorial birds.

The door began to open.