wanna see my sword?

hi baby. a list of headcanons for you:

when ilya starts wearing the ring -- tucked under his shirt, bumping up against his mother's cross -- he traces the outline of it through the fabric when he misses shane.

ilya used to kiss his mother's cross before each game. it became habit. his mama used to kiss the cross before something big and ilya watched her all those years, head bent, lips touched to metal. so he picked up the habit once it became his to wear. for her it was about god. for him it is about feeling closer to her. anyway. once the ring is added to his chain he takes a moment to press a kiss to his cross -- for his mama -- and a kiss to his ring -- for his love. and then the two sit beneath his compression shirt and warm with the heat of his body and sometimes on the bench he taps over the spot where they both sit. even after shane joins the cens he does this. he taps especially on the ring and necklace through his gear when shane is on the ice. not nervous. just it makes him feel like he can feel shane's movements on the ice. like he is clued into shane. maybe connected through the matching ring hidden beneath shane's shirt too.

the first night they are both wearing the rings in bed -- after their wedding when they are wine drunk and giggly and too uncoordinated to fuck but too horny to do nothing -- they give each other sloppy handjobs. ilya in shane's lap, them sitting against the headboard and kissing like stupid teens. they both taste like wine and joy and are dizzy with it and flushed and when shane wraps his big hand around ilya and his ring presses into ilya's hard cock he almost sobs. shane shivers when ilya grabs him back. and they whisper mushily and embarrassingly into each others mouths 'my husband my husband my husband' as they jerk each other off and get stupid turned on by their wedding bands pressed into hot flesh.

anytime someone flirts with shane during their honeymoon in ibiza he is lifting his left hand and flashing his ring. not saying anything. the gesture to him is enough. he is taken. he is not interested. sometimes the people flirting with him are not particularly detracted by the flash of his wedding band so shane just waves across the bar, points a finger at ilya -- who is on the dancefloor with a big, handsome smile on his face and his hair is big and a little frizzy from humidity and his shirt is mostly unbuttoned and his chest is sweaty and he is most certainly the hottest man in the room -- and shane just says 'that's my husband' and the stranger nods solemnly. there's no competing with that.

ilya is in the habit of waving his wedding band at the local business owners he has become familiar with since moving to ottawa. the dog groomer. the bakery. the organic shop -- he only goes to for shane. the hairdresser. the russian deli. everyone he has ever met over the years is getting reintroduced to ilya as a married man and they all adequately ooh and aah over his wedding band and ask to see photos and coo about how handsome ilya and his husband are. and shane stands there behind ilya looking shy and pleased and the russian ladies at the deli are pinching shane's cheeks and saying 'wow such a handsome young man' and ilya is soo pleased.

if they are not on the ice then their wedding bands are on. during games their bands go beneath their shirts on chains. at first this is enough but eventually shane decides he wants something on his finger at all times. he's gotten used to the weight of it. become fond of the tan line around his ring finger. misses it when he can't feel it beneath his glove. so he gets them silicone rings to wear. it is stupid because obviously their gloves cover it anyway but then they're winning the cup and shaking off their gloves to grab each other's jerseys and the photo of shane with his palm on ilya's jaw, with the band on his finger pressed into ilya's skin, makes it worth wearing.

when ilya is getting flirted with in bars on roadies -- in cities that don't know about hockey or by people who don't care he's famously married to another player -- he is waving around his wedding band and yelling "MOYA LYUBOV'" across the room and grabbing shane's wrist and making him show the ring and then kissing shane all sloppy and intense in front of everyone. the cens are used to these shenanigans by now and they just ignore the weird psychosexual games hollanov play in public. they're very odd about being married.

hi my baby. i can absolutely do this.

firstly, i think shane is comfortable with being 'rode hard and put away wet' so to speak in the bedroom. i think he does go outside himself in the bedroom and often he ends up in a hazy, pleasure place where he feels loose and warm and mind tingly. but i think he is actually pretty okay with the emotional experience of not receiving aftercare -- in a way bc he is used to feeling something big big big then shoving it down down down. out of ilya and shane i think ilya has the most need for aftercare -- as reassurance he did sex good and gets a passing grade. sex is something he prides himself on being good at. he gives orgasms and satisfaction and he leaves behind mindmelting memories that will fuel his lovers' spank banks for nights to come (huh cum). so i think the denial of aftercare impacts ilya's psyche perhaps more than shane's. (this is mytruth about myilya, y'all are welcome to disagree.) yes, ilya is very good at masking repressing getting on with it. he had to be from the perspective of being raised by a father like grigori that expected perfection and was intolerant of humanness as an excuse for mediocracy. but i think he needs to hear 'yes' when he asks 'worth the wait?' and he needs to kiss shane sweetly on the staircase and he needs to snuggle shane after sex to feel the physical connection closeness reassurance that he so clearly craves. he is a very physical but also sensitive guy. even if he pretends otherwise. he likes to ask 'still okay?' during he likes to ask 'was okay?' after. it makes him feel good to have it be good for you as much as he is also hedonistic and relishes in the pleasure he is experiencing. it isn't as fun if the other party isn't also feeling good -- which is why shane is so specifically perfect for him because shane is dying for it in the exact same way. but he isn't a strict domtophedonist despite the fandom's obsession with that. he is also needysubtopclingmushy at times. thus denying himself aftercare in vegas, in the form of kissing shane, is actually excruitiating for him and him self-punishing/harming bc he feels like he needs to denydenydeny because he cannot havehavehave what he wants. which is shane.

anyway, this is my thesis on aftercare and it's emotional significance between these two. shane needs it, obviously, everyone needs aftercare post sex. whatever that is -- water, snack, kissy, shower, pets, whatever -- but shane is a particular breed of self-denying asshole that we have never seen the likes of before. especially pre-relationship.

OKAY. so, to get onto what you actually wanted from me, which was not a character thesis on aftercare...

the first time they fuck really rough -- i'm talking shane bent over the armrest of his couch, the lounge scraping across the floorboards, making a horrible scree sound, knocking over an ornament on the side table. shane's head pressed into the sofa cushion, ilya's palm holding him down, pushing his face into the leather so shane is unable to move, helpless but to pant gasp moan drool on the cushion. ilya fucking snapping grinding his hips so hard it hurts a little and shane is gasping nails dragging down the side of the lounge -- is what we see post-vegas in the mymoonmyman montage. shane loses their game and ilya is chirping and goading and growling at shane the whole way up the back stairs because we know -- canonically -- that ilya likes it when shane gets frustrated and pushes him around and takes his aggression out on ilya's body. so ilya is trying to rile him up. frustrate him. he succeeds, ofc. once they are inside shane's apartment shane is shoving him hard into the foyer wall and then it's kisses so hard they hurt and biting teeth and tugging, yanking, shoving at clothes until they're both naked -- in record time -- and ilya is pushing muscling shoving shane into the lounge room. absolutely overwhelmed by lust want need completely incapable of making it up the stairs. and shane doesn't want ilya in his room. he's pissed. the game sucked. he's pissed with himself. he's pissed that he wants this after the raiders humiliated him and his team. he's pissed that he's so weak to still want to be fucked after losing. he's pissed that this is all he's been able to think about all week. he's pissed that he wants wants wants so much. it's horrible. all this wanting. so, before ilya came, he made sure there was lube and condoms in the living room bc he might want rozanov inside him but he doesn't fucking want rozanov in his room -- and also the last time they'd done this had been vegas and that had been deeply impersonal. shane had learnt his lesson. keep it impersonal. so the lounge room it would be. and shane is throwing lube at rozanov and slapping a condom into his hand and bending over the couch and hiding his face in the cushion, biting on his tongue, growling out a 'fuck you' when rozanov calls him 'eager' --because he kind of hates himself but he wants this more than he hates himself and that makes him hate himself a little bit more. and he's already prepped bc he hates how vulnerable prep makes him feel and he hates how carefully rozanov always does it and rozanov is saying 'ohh you are so eager, already wet for me' and shane is snapping 'shut up and fuck me before i change my mind' and then ilya is pushing in and its... well, as noted above, its rough. and loud. couch scraping, skin slapping, grunting, cursing, shane biting out 'fuck you, fuck you, fuck you' even as ilya is laughing saying 'i think you have this the wrong way around. i am fucking you.' and shane cums, hard, his head spinning, his back and hole aching, but it feels so fucking good too. he is slumping into the cushion and breathing hard and when ilya pulls out he hisses.

there's no aftercare. ilya is still operating under some impression he can fuck shane and not get further involved -- or he can fuck shane out of his system more accurately, thus far that is failing. so he is tying off the condom and asking 'bin?' and shane is muttering 'under the kitchen sink' and ilya is throwing it away then grabbing his clothes and dressing himself as shane is still slowly rearranging his brain. unscrambling himself. when he straightens he winces and ilya pauses, eyes fixing on shane's pinched brow then darting down to shane's ass. but shane is already yanking his sweats up his legs and saying 'we won't lose to you next time' and ilya is replacing the concerned twist of his mouth with a cocky smirk and saying 'we will see' and then he's leaving -- without a shower bc they need to keep this as impersonal as possible. but he's back at the hotel later, after a shower, and his brain keeps replaying shane's pained wince afterwards, the pinch of his brow. and he's texting 'if i fucked you so hard you can't play next game does that count as illegal tampering?' and shane is sending back 'fuck off' and ilya wants to bask in how hot how good how mindmelting the sex was but he also wants to know shane is okay and he's trying to think of how to ask without sounding like he cares when shane texts again 'i'm not one of your fucking girls. i can handle it. i'm fine' and that is that.

things change as their dynamic inevitably gravitates back towards too personal too intimate too much. as they stray away from the line of casual they are both pretending they are still tiptoeing around -- they're not tiptoeing around it. they have fully sprinted far from it into something territory but that something shall remain unacknowledged for some time yet -- during each of their hookups. the sex is very often rough, or quick and dirty, occassionally it is far far too tender and when that happens they get even more weird in the after. rushing out the fucking door like they're being chased by a ghost.

before tuna meltdown, maybe at the NHL awards the year prior, they are hooking up in shane's hotel room. shane has his knees practically at his ears, legs hooked over ilya's shoulders, and ilya is fucking into him relentless and mean and mindmeltingly hot. shane is all panting and red faced and whining and burning muscles and clawing at the bedsheets and panting hiccuping gasping for air. ilya isn't doing much better. grunting and groaning and trying his best to keep himself together but the vein in his forehead is straining and he's broken into a sweat and his chest is aching it is so tightly constricted. he'd edged them both for far too long. rolling inside of shane slow and tortorous and teasing for what felt like hours but was probably at most 10 minutes. never letting either of them get too close to the edge to cum. slapping shane's hands away if he tried to touch himself -- or ilya -- growling at him to stay beneath him and just fucking take it. and shane, obviously, despite his whines of 'pleaspleaseplease' and 'moremoremore', has been very very very happy to just fucking take it. always willing to take whatever ilya was willing to give him. but ilya eventually, after half an hour of torturing them both, decided to be gracious. and now he's fucking shane hard, so hard the headboard rattles against the wall, and both of them are entirely lost to it. shane is slack jawed and wide eyed and ilya isn't even thinking when he spits into shane's mouth. and shane is groaning and cuming as he swallows and ilya is cuming as he watches shane's throat bob with the action. and they're both panting panting panting. the room is totally quiet apart from the sounds of their shaky breaths and then ilya is very gently nudging shane's legs off his shoulders and flopping down next to shane, entirely boneless, but still somehow managing to reach out and squeeze at shane's thighs, soothing the strain in his muscles.

and they lie there for probably too long. not even saying anything. but they're touching. ilya has his hand on shane's thigh and shane has subconsciously reached out to pet at ilya's curls. they're lying like that, breathing, until shane lets out a wheezing laugh. his nose scrunching and his lips spreading into a wide grin. he feels incredible. he feels so so so good. any shame or embarrassment or self-hatred he may have felt the last half a dozen times they'd done this in the immediate aftermath is repressed right now. he's all gooey good feelings and elation and adrenaline and relief. his body feels relieved. it's so good. and ilya is lifting his head and grumbling 'the fuck is funny?' and shane is shaking is head, 'nothing, fuck that was so good' he's sighing and ilya's gut aches with it. he hadn't even realised how much he's been wanting shane to say 'fuck that was good' not until he's hearing him say it. and he knows shane likes it, otherwise he wouldn't keep coming back for it. but he finds he likes hearing it. still, he can't help but be a dick 'eh, was okay for me' and shane is huffing a laugh and punching ilya's arm and saying 'fuck you, dude' and ilya is burying his grin in the pillow beneath his head. and then pushing himself up onto his elbow, leaning over shane without even thinking, and kissing him sweetly on the mouth. a lingering, dragging kiss that gets warm and wet and deep without anywhere to go. they're not gonna fuck again. there is no way he can manage that. he's just kissing shane to kiss him. and maybe it turns into a little bit of a makeout. fingers tangling in hair and mouths kissing pulling nudging dragging until both their lips are red and sore and swollen. and maybe the makeout goes to the shower and maybe ilya tries to maintain balance by at least stroking shane in the shower. but they're still just kissing after they're cuming again. so once he's out of the water ilya is dressing as fast as he can and rushing for the door but then shane is emerging with a fluffy towel around his waist and his skin is damp and flushed and his cheeks are ruddy and ilya is kissing him again, just one two three pecks on the mouth, before he is murmuring 'see you next season, hollander' and shane is humming 'have a terirble summer' and then ilya is grinning and kissing him one more time. licking into shane's mouth -- tasting him well enough to not forget him over the summer... not that ilya ever could forget the taste of him -- and then he's leaving with a soft 'bye' and closing the door firmly behind him. absolutely not grinning to himself in the elevator ride to his room.

once they're in a relationship the aftercare shifts. they have all kinds of sex at the cottage -- romantic, playful, quick, slow, exploratory, giddy, dirty, rough, silly -- and it's after the romantic sex that shane discovers he needs aftercare specifically. and ilya is all too happy to provide. the first time they fuck make love shane nearly squirms from the discomfort. he's so hot warm tingly in the face of the intimacy of it. it feels so good but also vulnerable and foreign and even though he wantsthis wantsilya wantsthem it is still so exposing to be held like this. to be spooned from behind and touched reverently and to be entirely unable to look anywhere but into ilya's eyes. they're mouths are pressing together and they're foreheads are rubbing and they're gasping 'iloveyoufuckiloveyou' and shane feels fucking on fire. he feels like he's never done anything so filthy in his life. filthy good. it's so good. but he's squirming in the intimacy and emotionality of it. (he gets used to romantic sex with time. gets used to sighing 'iloveyousomuch' as ilya touches him and pushes into him and cums inside of him. but that first time he is unprepared.) he's sosososoinlove and in the aftermath, with ilya cuming inside him without a condom, with ilya staying inside him softening afterwards, he is all clinging tears at his lash line and cracked voice as he murmurs 'you love me' and ilya feels cracked open too -- he is probably on the verge of dissolving into goo and weeping -- but he was prepared for this. he was made for this. he has always wanted this. 'i love you i love you' he's replying and kissing over shane's flushed cheeks and his wet lashes and his sniffly nose and nudging their mouths together and then he gets to take care of his boy like he's always wanted. he's kissing shane's body tenderly and stroking his thumb over shane's slick entrance and helping shane in the shower and holding him under the spray and then feeding him apple slices by hand and giving him water and then snuggling with shane on the couch and scratching at his scalp and kissing his forehead as some movie plays in the background. and it's aftercare for him too. because this makes him feel good. this makes him feel like he got an A+ in sex lover boyfriend.

obviously they are still fucking wild and rough post-i-love-yous. probably even more rough than before. rough enough to leave marks and explore new things. shane is asking to be slapped. ilya is asking to be choked. they're going multiple rounds until shane is sobbing and overstimulated. they're giving themselves and each other sex injuries the likes of which have never been seen before. but now they get to do that with 'was okay?' 'was so okay' afterwards and tender kisses and melting cuddles and gentle carresses and soft soft soft murmurs pressed into warm skin 'iloveyou youdidsowell imsoproudofyou'

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vs.

And what if I told you that Ilya engineered that hookup specifically because he wanted to dom Shane that night and he knew that if he got Shane in that hotel room that Shane would submit to him so beautifully and what if I told you that actually that's what they both wanted so fucking bad and what if I told you that the only reason the Penthouse hookup is bad is because Shane DID NOT COMMUNICATE what he wanted. Which was kisses. That's all he wanted. Not softer sex not Ilya being "gentle" not the denial of an aspect of his sexuality. Which is submitting sexually.