too gay to live-too straight to die

On the one hand, it's one of the days he can most keenly feel the loss of his mom. He misses the way she would wake him up by pulling his ears – one tug for every year of his age – and then hand him his gift. He misses the way that she would always sneak him a second gift right before bed so that he wouldn't be sad about this birthday ending.

On the other hand, they're also a good reminder that life is better than it has been for a long time. Instead of the cold, perfunctory, "Happy Birthday, Ilya," he'd get from his father (if he was lucky), his team have always celebrated him. He's always had a pile of gifts left outside his locker to surprise him, he's always been taken out clubbing, never once having to buy a drink for himself.

His favourite thing has always been the happy birthday text he gets from Shane every year, going back to long before he was his boyfriend. He's never missed a single one, and they're a good encapsulation of how much their relationship had changed over the years:

Happy birthday.

Happy birthday Rozanov.

Happy birthday Rozanov.

Happy birthday Rozanov. 🎂

God knows if you'll actually get this, it's been literal fucking months, but for what it's worth, happy birthday. Hope you're okay.

Happy birthday Rozanov. 🎂🎉

Happy birthday Rozanov. Remind me to give you your 'gift' next time we're together. 😉

Happy birthday Ilya. I'll see you soon. Counting down the days. ❤️

On his first birthday as Shane Hollander's boyfriend, he finds that he's looking forward to waking up to this year's birthday text almost more than anything, and is disappointed when there isn't one. He figures Shane must just be busy and he'll text when he's finished with whatever he's got going on. Ilya carries on with his day, finishes his workout, showers, but still there's no text from Shane.

Now he's starting to panic. He's always gotten Shane's birthday messages first thing in the morning. Has something happened to him? He doesn't want to message in case it's nothing and he makes it sound like he's desperate for Shane's birthday message (as much as he kind of is), so he ends up scouring the news sites for any sign that something might have happened to him. There's nothing.

Feeling a little pit in his stomach at the idea that Shane might have forgotten his birthday in the first year of being his boyfriend, he makes his way to the living room, deciding that he'll watch the rest of the cup final that he and Shane were too busy sexting during to finish watching the night before. He's just sat down on the couch when he hears the knock on his door.

No way. Surely not?

But it is. There, right there, close enough to reach out for, is Shane, carrying an overnight bag, holding an enormous gift box, and wearing a slightly nervous smile.

The leaves start to change and Ilya and Svetlana go dancing. They hop from bar to bar and Svetlana pretends she doesn't notice the way Ilya checks his phone every five minutes, smiling as he furiously types back and then asks her to repeat what she just said. She is patient, so she does.

They dance closely and fluidly, their bodies so familiar to the other's, and when Ilya's attention is not on his phone, it is completely on her. It is this Ilya she loves so fiercely; the way his energy moves outwards, always giving more than he takes— the way he drags her out onto the dancefloor, something in how he grips her hand that somehow says both I'm here and thank you.

They tired of dancing but not of the night, and find a hot dog stand to eat at, sipping on a shared drink and dripping mustard over the sidewalk. They decide to walk back, even though they've found themselves rather far from home.

They stumble back into Ilya's apartment, hanging onto each other and laughing over some shared joke from their childhood. Svetlana falls into bed giggling. Ilya playfully shakes her, reminds her she is going to be really upset if she falls asleep without taking her makeup off, so she asks him to do it for her, half-joking, and of course he agrees. He messily runs a makeup remover wipe over her face, trying to hold her still as she laughs and laughs and laughs.

She is only half awake when Ilya slips out of the bed to call someone in the other room. She blissfully listens to his soft voice and occassional giggles, too quiet to hear the words but just loud enough to hear the joy in them. When he comes back, she pretends to be asleep.

The next morning, Ilya is up first. He rolls over and watches the steady rise and fall of Svetlana's sleeping body. He had made sure Shane was okay with them still sleeping in the same bed, had asked him over and over and watched for any flicker of doubt or uncertainty, and when he had found none, he was overwhelmed with the feeling of falling even more impossibly in love, feeling so trusted and believed. But now he wakes up next to his beautiful Svetlana— no, not his anymore— he wakes up to her and realizes he can never wake up next to anyone not-Shane ever again for as long as he lives. Nothing could possibly compare.

Ilya takes a shower and dresses, then sits on the edge of the bed. He touches Svetlana's shoulder softly, runs his hand up and down, up and down. Her eyes flicker open and she smiles. He asks her how she slept, and then explains that this is the last time they can sleep in the same bed. She laughs sofly, sighs and stretches her arms above her like a cat.

"I was wondering when this was going to happen. So are you going to tell me about him?"

--

They put on coats and scarves and grab coffee at the cafe down the street, taking it to-go and strolling around the neighborhood. Ilya makes her guess who it is, and stops dead in his tracks when she gets it right on the first try. Svetlana looks just as shocked though, having thought surely this was some ridiculous theory of hers.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Ilya!"

She throws her head back in laughter and takes his arm, and they walk like this as he tells her everything, and his cheeks hurt from laughing by the end of it.

--

Later, Shane receives a photo of Ilya and Svetlana, a selfie, the two of them bundled up in scarves and smiling with scrunched eyes and full teeth. The accompanying message just says svetlana says hi.

“Haas, where are you right now?”

“The club by the hotel.”

“And he’s not in the bathroom?”

“No.”

“Not on the roof?”

“No.”

“Not trying to access any of the dancers poles?”

“What? Why would- Oh, Troy says no.”

“Is he hanging out with drunk girls in the women’s bathroom?”

“Umm, one sec. Harris, can you ask her if Ilya is in there? … Harris says no.”

“Ok. What were you talking about before he disappeared?”

“We were trying to figure out where to eat.”

“Did anyone bring up sushi?”

“He didn’t say he wanted-“

“Just answer the question.”

“Uh yeah, someone suggested it, but he said he wanted-“

“He’s at the pier.”

“What?”

“He got bored, sushi put fish on his brain, which made him think about water, and he likes going to piers, and the hotel is walking distance from a boardwalk by the water. He’s there, most likely trying to look at fish going under the dock.”

“… How do you know that?”

It's amazing for Ilya too because Shane is so good at following commands.

At first, Ilya is getting his dick in Shane whenever he can, but he's doing a lot of the work! It's fun, but he wants to be lazy sometimes.

Then he slowly starts getting Shane to come to him instead of him approaching Shane. If Shane is in the kitchen, he'll ask him to come into the living room when he gets a chance, pause what he's doing at his desk to come to the bedroom.

This slowly grows to Ilya being able to yell Shane's name at a certain tone, and no matter what he is doing or where he is, Shane comes running to Ilya.

Ilya is getting his dick sucked while having breakfast, after coming back from a day out, in the shower. He's telling Shane to prep himself because Shane has to ride him when his workout is done. Ilya has Shane in a tizzy keeping up with Ilya's needs.

Ilya's biggest triumph is getting Shane to wash his sports cars naked (in the garage of course. No one is getting a free show) with a plug in so Ilya can sit back with a drink, watch Shane get everything wet and soapy, fuck him against the car, then watch him keep going. Rinse and repeat - literally.

and ☝️ i do think douchebag bisexual supreme ilya should keep a notes app list ranking all his hookups+locations and what they did and how good they were at taking his dick (sometimes complete with contact info for repeats). and ☝️ i do ALSO think the man is aware that There Is A Problem when the top of the list starts looking like:

jane, mtl, first time backdoor like a fucking champ. soaked the bed and me. moaned like dying in reverse. why do some holes feel so much better than others

jane, mtl, nose to the bush and kept me there for fucking forever. fuck

jane, mtl, begged for anal plus two fingers. bit a circle out of my throat. payback with belt to ass after. crazy brown eyes beautiful crying

jane, mtl, thick goddamn sexy thighs. four fingers touching back of the throat and moaning for more. slut slut slut

the dua lipa of it all

Hmmm OKAY yes I think I have a few more:

- "Luca come here. Let me see. Open your fucking mouth, kid. Okay yeah, he's bleeding, tell them to give that fucker double, Ilya--"

- "Yeah so like...you eat the food with your hands. No forks. No, they give you this bread. Yeah it's good. Kind of spicy."

- "Hey buddy. Nah, not much. Jackie and the kids good? That's good. Surprised you're not part of the scrum. Yeah he told me he was gonna try to fight you tonight."

- "Ha, no, stay there. I don't wanna hear it. No, I don't want you to whisper it either. Save it for the power play."

- "Can you do this with your pinky? Yeah. Huh, maybe it's because I've broken mine. Hey, Bood, can you do this with your pinky? Huh. Chouinard--tap Chouinard--hey, try to do this--"

- "That ref fucking hates me and you know why--you fucking KNOW why--no I will not calm down!"

- "Yeah it was nice, but I don't think we'll go back. I dunno. It rained the whole time and Ilya said it made him feel homesick. No, like, for Russia. Yeah. Big sad Slavic eyes the whole time. And he's, y'know. My guy. When he's sad, I'm sad. Nah, that's not sappy, that's just marriage, man."

- "Hey, did you know that the point of hockey is actually to keep your blades on the ice? Yeah it helps. You can't go as far skating on your nose."

- "Aw shit, buddy, did he get you? Did my husband use his big stick to put you on your back? Aw man, bud, I dunno. Sounds kind of gay."

- "No, it's fine, not broken. Don't fuss. I'll tell you what I said later. No, later. Uh-huh. You get it. Eyes on the game, Rozanov."

- "Aw, fuck, he threw a blade. Oh you are not serious. Why is he crawling. COME ON, THIS IS WHAT WE LEARNED THE POWER PULLS FOR--"

- "Oh, kiss cam. You know, I asked them not to--helmet, Ilya. I said you could kiss my helme--mmm. Fine."

- "Say that again about my fucking family, motherfucker! Say that shit again! I'm not gonna let you fuckers play like that anymore!"

It’s not really noticeable, not to anyone else, not even Shane. It’s just something that pings in Ilya’s brain when he’s in the gym strength training, that it’s just a teeny little bit easier to lift on his lift. He knows this isn’t exactly unusual, even — most people are slightly uneven, most people are a little bit stronger on their dominant side

… except Ilya is a rightie.

He puzzles over this for a while, wondering if he ought to be doing a few extra reps with his right arm, wondering if he ought to try to even it out, wondering how the fuck this even happened when he’s literally always favors his right arm/hand. He uses it to pull Shane close, to open doors for Shane, to hold himself up while he fucks into Shane……

And meanwhile, he’s using his left hand to jack Shane off.

Ilya puts the pieces together mid-hand job, when Shane is settled between his legs, back to chest. He’s got his right hand on Shane’s leg, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin on his inner thigh, while his left hand strokes Shane hard and fast until he’s whining and begging for release.

Ilya hides his reaction by biting into the sensitive skin on Shane’s neck and lets him come before rolling them both over so he can laugh into a pillow.

“What?” Shane says, scowling as he wriggles underneath Ilya, sensitive and sated. “God, you’re such an asshole. I didn’t come that fast.”

“No,” Ilya eventually manages to say through tears of mirth. He’s still hard, but he’s pretty sure he’s accidentally killed the mood. “No, no, you were perfect.”

“Then what the fuck is wrong with you?” Shane twists around so they’re face to face, and Ilya can bury his face into the crook of his shoulder.

“You know,” he says after he’s calmed himself down with the scent of his boyfriend’s sweat, that musky, salty smell he’s grown accustomed to having in his bed. “You know how my left arm is stronger than my right?”

“Yeah, so?” Shane says. He’s got this adorable, frustrated look on his face, all scrunched up and angry. “What does that have to do with — oh.” His eyes flick down to Ilya’s left hand, coated in his cum. “Oh my god, Ilya, are you serious? Is this why your right backshot is weaker than your left?”

Of course that’s what Shane worries about. God, Ilya loves him.

“It’s ok!” he says, grinning wickedly as he pushes himself up onto his left elbow. “I will even it out. Only rightie handjobs this summer.”

Shane’s smile grows slowly. “I bet your right hand isn’t as good at it,” he says, and his words reek of a challenge. “Bet you’ll need lots of practice.”

Huh. Mood not killed at all, then.

Ilya kisses Shane deeply and runs his hands — including the cum covered one — through his hair, ignoring the squeak of protest in lieu of the twitch of interest in both of their dicks.

“Good thing I have a great personal trainer,” he says and winks.

The Ilya we see in Heated rivalry would not be throwing the first punch, he's not an enforcer. Ilya is a star center and a Pest. He wouldn't be doing his job correctly if he was punching players every other game, it would end up with not enough ice time to let him be the playmaker he's paid to be.

But being a pest can be playmaking! Find a player to bait, emotionally push them just enough that they try to fight you, and then get the fuck out of there before the ref gives you both penalties. This gets your team the power play. There is probably someone on Ilya's line dedicated to helping him get out of the fights he starts, and finishing them for him!

I also think this is also something that Shane would respect. Ilya is good at it and it's a good strategy for his team. I don't think Shane would see it as some dirty tactic, because Shane probably thinks everyone with a brain can see it for what it is! He probably thinks everyone should be able to see that being an asshole is a tactic for Ilya, that it's something to ignore and not fall for, that it's a strategy and not personal beef.