Callsign Boots (evai)

But if Shane has a crush on Carter, and Ilya also has a crush on Carter, WHO'S going to instigate the possessive jealous fuck-fest that they have at least twice during the normal season and at least once during playoffs when they feel like they need to re-stake their claims on each other?

(Sometimes also at the cottage when Shane lingers at the mailbox too long shooting the breeze with the mailman, Ilya waits like a crouching tiger in the entryway)

So instead they pivot (they're so good at pivoting and yes anding each other at this point) and it's one of those nights when Ilya pins Shane to the bed like "We'll bring Vaughan in to watch you, yes? He'd be so nice, so sweet to you while I take what I need? That what you need, Hollander, someone to be nice to you?"

which is complicated by the fact that ilya takes one look at rose and shane at the bar (rose's arm looped through shane's in what ilya doesn't know is just a friends move) and BOOKS IT so he doesn't have to see this

and then proceeds to avoid them at EVERY fucking turn

this all terminates into rose going "fuck it I'm a true bro and I'm making this happen so help me GOD" and managing to arrange locking them in a closet together (which is. so funny. but this is not the time to point out the punchline.) (she'll save it.) so ilya can't run away.

and it's very sweet and they have their moment of honesty and yay back to ilya's room now fo-

the-the door is locked.

because it turns out that rose got a LITTLE too enthusiastic in locking it after her plan worked PERFECTLY and now something in the mechanism is broken.

because also ilya would NOT know how to fucking react

"she's not my girlfriend!" "i'm not his girlfriend!"

$ $ $

and Ilya is so enthused to just take it, to spot him on the back of the head and thrust lightly into his mouth until Shane pulls off for a precious second and says “don’t be gentle. I’m serious.” And that makes Ilya fucking feral. And suddenly Shane’s hair is being pulled at the root and Ilya is fucking his mouth as deep has he dare go, because shane has yet to cross into deep-throating territory, but he thinks he will soon.

Normally, he stays inside Shane for a bit after fucking while they cuddle. They love that, they're so needy and down bad for each other that it's just become a regular part of aftercare for them. And they often doze off a little before waking up and cleaning each other up, or showering, taking the dirty cover off the bed…, but this time they were tired and they really got into it. Ilya came so fucking hard, so he actually completely conks out without meaning to.

In his sleep, Ilya moves away a little and slips out of Shane, so he's kinda just left there, sweaty, cum running out of him. Usually he's so disgusted by it, but maybe just this one time the disgust has something else there. They'd played with degradation almost all week, and Ilya made him take it tonight too, called him his cockslut, his whore, made Shane beg for his cum... so Shane is exactly in the kind of headspace where feeling dirty, messy, discarded is doing something different to him, the kind of unpleasantness he wants to lean into.

Also Shane, like Ilya, is also exhausted, so letting himself relax in that moment and drift off to sleep is easy. And that's what he does.

He wakes up in the morning with Ilya being soooo concerned, because how careless was it to just cum and fall asleep, especially with the kind of play they did. "I didn't want to make you clean up by yourself, sweetheart, I'm sorry", and Shane answers in a low voice, not even being able to look Ilya in the eye, "I didn't".

Ilya looks so confused, and worried, Shane can see all the gears turning in his head trying to assess how Shane feels, how badly Ilya fucked up. Shane can't really bring himself to fully explain, so he just cups Ilya's cheek and strokes it with his thumb, pulling him in for a kiss (bEfOrE bRUsHinG??? 🤨 MY SHANE WAS KIDNAPED!! REPLACED BY LIZARD ALIENS!! 🚨🚨)

Shane takes Ilya's hand, guides it between his legs to reach back to his hole and Ilya can feel it, the mess from the lube and his cum still there, and when he presses in Shane gasps into his mouth. Ilya pulls back and this time Shane is looking at him, heavy lids and parted lips, "If you wanted you could just... if you wanted. If not, then you don't. However you want".

Ilya goes dizzy with how fast his dick gets hard. It's entirely possible the consistency with which Shane makes blood rush to Ilya's dick has caused more damage to his brain than any concussion ever could.

Shane is just as unhinged as Ilya, if not more so—he just requires a certain level of comfort and ease to let people see that. Ilya’s baseline is “I woke up today and I’m going to make it everyone’s problem.” Shane is more “I need you to prove your worth and trustworthiness before I allow you access to additional sides of me.”

Shane’s parents? Fully aware of his gremlin tendencies. Ilya? Intimately acquainted and in love with this undercover harbinger of mischief. Rose, Hayden, JJ, Jackie? They know that Shane is actually just three chaos demons in a trench coat. Everyone else only catches the occasional glimpse because Shane isn’t comfortable showing that part of himself to just anyone, much less in a professional capacity.

Enter Centaurs.

Hayden notices the difference at the first Montreal game against Ottawa. Shane’s playing the same—an absolute demon on the ice, something the Metros are woefully unprepared to face now that he’s playing against them. They score a single measly goal against the Centaurs’ 10, 6 of which are Shane’s alone.

He looks relaxed, Hayden thinks as the press flocks to his friend after the game. Less tension in his shoulders. An actual smile on his face instead of the fake one reporters still haven’t caught on to after all these years. He looks…happy.

“Shane!” One of the reporters pushes to the front and holds out a microphone. “Your former teammates spent most of this game gunning for you instead of actually playing. It doesn’t seem to have worked out well, but is there anything you’d like to say to them now?”

Hayden feels a chill run down his spine as he watches the way Shane’s smile shifts from soft to sharp, closed mouth to shark-like. Oh no. Wait, wait, wait—

Shane looks directly at the camera and shrugs.

“Hoes mad.”

In the background, Rozanov’s face positively lights up. He looks like Christmas, New Year’s, and Valentine’s Day just came early, all at once and specifically for him. The rest of the Centaurs are behind him, cheering wildly.

More importantly? None of them look surprised.

Hayden’s not shocked that Shane said it—he knows what his friend is really like, knows the Metros are mad (even if he does personally object to being called a hoe). He just can’t believe Shane said that out loud, in front of cameras, in front of other people, and nobody (aside from the reporters, who are gobsmacked and clamoring for more) looks even remotely fazed by it. They’re looking at him in a way that says “that’s our Shane,” not “holy shit, he really just did that.”

As Shane walks off, completely at ease, Hayden feels two diametrically opposed emotions. On one hand, there’s a guilt gnawing at him. How awful were the Metros that Shane never felt comfortable enough to be himself and talk like this after a game? How had he not noticed? Had he taken his own privilege, his own glimpses at the gremlin that is Shane Hollander, for granted? Fuck, had he failed his friend?

She gets him to dance with her where they can have a more private conversation about their mutual Russian friend, away from Shane's teammates, and get to know each other better. Shane's thankful he's not bothered by the guys for the rest of the night since they think when Svetlana drags him out of the club she's taking him home (not dropping him off at Rozanov's place). There's pictures circulating online almost immediately of Svetlana dancing with Shane Hollander at some club in Boston. Dating rumors are already floating around by the next morning before Metros vs Raiders game.

Some of Ilya's favorite appearances of 'brutally honest Shane' are at the Kingfisher with their team, as well as the Admirals.

---

Hunter and Vaughn both rolled their eyes at yet another classic Rozanov chirp. Shane hadn't been listening to that side of the table, as he was enjoying his conversation with Kip about the latest paintings he acquired for a gallery.

"God, Roz, you are a real piece of work. I bet you even chirp the kids at your camps," Carter said, a little too plainly to be a joke. Shane did not like that one bit.

"What? Ilya would never. He is a sweetheart with the kids," Shane countered, turning his attention and leaning into Ilya's side.

Scott huffed a laugh and nodded. "Well, that may be true, but on the ice, he’s a menace. Even you can admit that, Rook."

"Of course he is; it’s a strategy. That is the role he plays. He’s nothing like that off the ice. That's how most of us are, you know that," Shane replied firmly. He knew Ilya enjoyed the chirping when it was fair, but Shane did not like the implication of his husband being bad with children or just genuinely being a 'bad' person.

"You are the same on and off, Hollz," Carter said.

Ilya stopped himself from laughing, but Shane couldn't. He chuckled a bit and then paused before responding. "Oh, wait, you’re serious?"

The entire table went quiet, listening in on the conversation now. Scott was the one to reply. "Uh, yeah, Shane. You are the nicest guy in the league."

"I am definitely not," Shane said, not able to hide his surprise. Ilya had to tuck his face into Shane's shoulder to keep his smile at bay.

"What are you talking about? You are always composed on the ice. You are a good leader, especially for the rookies. All the stripes love you. You don't fight. I mean, you started a whole damn charity. They called you Canada's Golden Boy for a reason, Rook."

Shane rolled his eyes. He appreciated all of Scott's kind words, but sometimes he hated that his reputation always boiled down to that, especially given the pressure of maintaining it.

"I guess that is true. Thank you, but like I said before, that is on the ice. I'm not saying I'm a bad person or anything, but I can be a real bitch. I know that."

Multiple voices called out around the table in contention, shocked by what he just said.

Shane's eyes grew wide, seeing them all react as if this were new information. He thought it was a bit obvious. "What? It’s true!"

Scott set his beer down with a loud clatter on the table. "You aren’t a bitch, Shane. What the hell are you talking about?"

Shane shrugged as he took another bolstering sip of Ilya's vodka, not even bothering to chase this one. "Not all the time, no, but I’m way meaner than Ilya. I just don't chirp you guys to your faces."

Ilya finally joined the conversation with a nod before adding, "Is true. He is like that meme. Looks like cinnamon roll but could kill you. I have been saying Shane Hollander is an asshole for many years, and no one would listen."

Everyone around the table laughed, some sporting expressions of recognition at Ilya's meme comparison. That was until Troy leaned in from his spot across the table.

"Hang on, Hollzy. What do you mean you don't chirp us to our faces?"

Shane leveled Troy with that unimpressed look some of the Centaurs have received after making subpar passing choices or shot attempts at practice.

"Barrett, you really think Ilya comes up with chirps about stats on his own? Or the ones in French? I thought you were smarter than that."