Helter Skelter Through My Mind

It occurs to Shane that the Metros are a walking, talking, sentient amalgamation of microaggressions. Or just plain aggressions, honestly. He knows his team—his former team. He knows that after a few drinks, Comeau couldn’t be trusted not to ask JJ whether he sacrificed chickens for voodoo rituals. He knows the rookies would ask him what wait staff at Chinese restaurants were saying, despite multiple reminders that a) he’s not Chinese, b) the people working here aren’t necessarily Chinese, and c) someone speaking another language doesn’t mean they’re talking shit about you. He knows at least three of his former teammates would randomly stick a hand in JJ’s hair and ask if he could wash it “like normal people.” He knows that Hayden (well-meaning and generally receptive to criticism, but still lacking in some areas) would direct math questions his way, like he was a human calculator.

Sitting with his new team, with Ilya slightly tipsy and completely relaxed at his side, Shane realizes that he’s just…a guy. He’s any other guy at the table. No one’s checking for him, with him, or on him in particular. When a science or math question comes up, they’re not deferring to him for the answers because he’s Asian and they assume he’s a STEM whiz.

He is, to be clear. He’s an everything whiz. Shane was a straight A student in school and could’ve gone to any university of his choice had hockey not been his goal/passion/obsession. It’s just not because he’s Asian—it’s because Shane Hollander refuses to give or be anything less than his absolute best at anything. His perfectionism runs deep and is quite possibly genetic (yes, Ilya always says, because I have seen how you and your mother play board games), but it has nothing to do with being Japanese.

“Okay,” Bood mutters to himself as he reads the clues again. “Genetic disorder, shortens lifespan. Featured on an episode of Grey’s Anatomy and associated with…stones?”

“Stone disease,” Ilya considers aloud. “That sounds familiar. F-something?”

“Fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva,” Shane and Wyatt say simultaneously.

The table goes silent for a moment before erupting into laughter and questions.

“Why and how do you know that?” Harris shouts over the ruckus. “Who just has that knowledge ready to go?”

The questions are directed at just Shane. The table assumes that Wyatt—known nerd and husband of a physician—can pull random medical knowledge out of thin air on command. Nobody assumes that Shane’s supposed to know everything. Nobody’s disappointed when he doesn’t have the right answer and saying “I thought you guys were supposed to be smart” if he can’t answer a math question correctly in 5 seconds. Harris is genuinely amazed that Shane pulled the answer out of nowhere and curious about where he learned it, instead of just rolling his eyes and saying something like “of course he knows.”

He shrugs. “I fell down a YouTube rabbit hole once.”

Ilya laughs loudly and pulls him in for a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “We should play doctor later. I have this problem with my di—“

So he really should have expected the question, "so who is, you know, the man?"

"Excuse me?"

"Dude, you can't ask that," a very progressive Young advised. "You gotta ask who's the top. Not the man."

Shane exhaled slowly. He loves his team he loves his team he loves his team.

"That is private," Shane said firmly. "And inappropriate in the workplace."

He was, of course, largely ignored. And while neither him nor Ilya really enjoyed their team, their friends, the internet, and homophobic players guessing their bedroom arraignments, Shane was surprised that nearly everyone got it wrong.

The general consensus what that Shane was the man. His going out outfit was usually jeans and a t-shirt, Ilya's was tight leather pants and a leopard print with four buttons undone. When they drank, Shane got a beer and Ilya either got shots or the sweetest cocktail they had. Ilya was more flamboyant, Shane was more reserved. Ilya liked to bake, Shane liked to grill.

And yes, Shane was aware why all these seemingly innocuous personality traits accumulated to make Shane the man and Ilya the girl. Still, it didn't stop it being generally annoying, offensive, and uncomfortable. Nonetheless, Shane liked finding the silver lining in that this was something just for them to know.

Ilya finds it more amusing then Shane. And, like most things, tries to use it to his advantage.

"Shaaaane, carry my bag," Ilya held out his hockey bag.

"No."

"I can't believe you treat your girlfriend like this."

~*~

"Is it a happy bouquet or an 'i'm sorry' one?" Holmsberg asked as he and the rookies peered over Young's phone. "Get the all roses one."

"That's the most expensive one!"

"Dude."

"Shane," Ilya whined, calling their attention to him. "Why don't you ever buy me flowers?"

"That's messed up, dude," LaPointe shook his head.

"I'll buy you roses, Roz." Wyatt grinned.

"You will not," Shane grumbled.

~*~

"Ah," Ilya winced as he lowered himself on the bench.

"You okay?" Shane asked him. He had taken a hard check into the boards early in the game and, despite reassuring Shane he was fine, he knew his hip was killing him.

"Fine," Ilya said predictability. "Just sore. Will be fine in a minute."

"Hey," Zane nudged Shane's shoulder. "Go easy on him on game days, okay? We need him."

"Go easy?" Shane's eyebrows drew together. "What do you - Oh! No, that isn't - he - I didn't -"

"It's fine, man. Whatever you two-"

"No!" Shane interrupted. "He's still sore off of Richard's check - Not - Ilya, stop laughing!"

~*~

"Doesn't it bother you?" Shane asks Ilya one day.

"What?"

"That everyone assumes you're, you know," Shane gestured, a cute little blush on his cheeks. "The girl."

"There is no girl," Ilya raises his eyebrows and palms Shane through his pants. "I would know."

"Asshole," Shane scoffs. "You know what I mean."

"I know," Ilya smiled. "But no. It does not bother me."

"Why not?"

"Because it's hot," Ilya lifted his hands, over Shane's chest and up to his face. "That people can't even imagine you like this."

Ilya dips to kiss his neck and Shane's eyes flutter shut.

"Makes no sense," Ilya continued, hands roaming down to Shane's ass. "To me, I know this immediately."

"F-fuck off, you did not."

"Oh, I did," Ilya gripped his chin, forcing Shane to look at him. "I see you... those beautiful freckles and I know how desperate you are for it. So obvious. Thought everyone was looking at this boy thinking how good he would look getting fucked. How well he would take it."

"Ilya..."

"Shh," Ilya patted his face. "But I think is better this way. That only I get to even imagine you like this. Only I get to have it."

"Only you," Shane agreed readily, hands flying to the zipper on Ilya's jeans.

They start as creases in the corners of his eyes, the natural consequence of David's awful dad jokes, or Yuna's brand negotiation horror stories, or a stellar Cens reunion, or something wild and out of the blue that their toddler says, or a bitchy comment from Shane from their seats in the stands as they watch games rather than play them, or the way Shane's hip now clicks in a comically loud way every time Ilya spreads his legs.

Initially the lines fade away immediately.

Then, as the years go on, they linger, so that Shane gets to look at them and hear the sound of Ilya's laughter in his head for longer and longer. Then, they stop fading, and Shane can see the evidence of every beautiful moment they've had together etched onto his favorite face in the world.

When Ilya finally concedes and says they're not laugh lines anymore - he's officially got wrinkles, Shane beams at him and kisses each one reverently.

"You know me, I would never complain, but what was that for?" Ilya asks and Shane smiles back at him, knowing the lines on his own face largely mirror his husband's.

"Just grateful that I've spent long enough with you to get to see you with wrinkles."

He did a wonderful job, but as he was returning my plant to my custody, he explained "I watered her every other day, I gave her new dirt, moved her into the sunshine, prayed the rosary-"

"What?"

He looked at me, confused. "Isn't she a plant you pray with?"

"No," I said slowly. "She's a prayer plant. That's the... colloquial name of the plant."

Upon seeing his stricken face, I realized something went wrong. Turns out, this entire time, he's been including my plant in on his prayers and leaving her near icons.

Behold, Dorothea

He turned to me, sighed, and said in a very deadpan tone-- "Plants don't have covenants, Joy,"

They're always in and out of the water – lake swims, pool swims, hot tub, showers – so doing his curl routine each time would be crazy when he could be spending that precious time sucking his boyfriend's dick.

Shane's not the biggest fan of how Ilya's styling products feel. He'll tolerate it, but Ilya can tell by his face that the texture isn't his favourite. Less product = more hair touching.

Shane's hands are always in his hair. When they're kissing. When they're watching a movie. When they fuck. When Ilya sits with his head in Shane's lap. When they're napping on the couch together. Shane's hands are usually full of a handful of Ilya's curls.

Shane seems to really like it. One time Shane said Ilya's fluffy hair made him look like a duckling and he's been chasing that high ever since.

But when the rookies, freshly of age, most in another country, and with MHL money, ask him to take them car shopping, he’s there. He’s not letting some dealership rip off his rookies or put them in a dangerous shiny sports car.

Ilya, crucially, doesn’t know this happens. He claims the rookies all got ‘Shane’s borning genes’ because of their practical cars with excellent safety ratings.

He ignores Shane who disowns their children (tells Ilya they are not biologically related to the rookies).

When someone finally slips up and Ilya finds out he is simultaneously 1. appalled that the rookies would not come to Ilya “car enthusiast” Rozanov 2. endeared that Shane takes such good care of their team 3. hard, imagining Shane negotiating with the car salesman, pushing up his glasses while reading over the paper work, test driving the cars…

Unless.

You consider that the Metros know that Shane absolutely does know how to fight. They've all done checking clinics with Shane. They've all wrestled and roughhoused with Shane. He's strong and he's fast and he wants to win.

The Metros understand that Shane doesn't fight, not because he can't, but because he's a little too good at it. And Shane generally doesn't even like violence. He likes to win by playing the game, not hurting the other team.

Heated Rivalry — 1x06 ⤷ PHONE BLOWJOB

(sources below)

So he gets a tutor. He meticulously researches her (she's from Moscow, so he'll learn from someone with Ilya's same accent). She's signed to more NDAs than he can count. She has 10 years of experience, she's certified to teach English and Russian, and she has 4.8 stars on MyTutor.

Shane pays her a frankly concerning amount of money to make house calls. Twice weekly, unless he's on the road, she arrives at his apartment to teach him foundational Russian. She gives him workbooks, Russia cartoon recommendation, podcasts for beginners, etc. He tells her he's learning because his boyfriend is Russian and she outlines a course that focuses on domestic language first (as opposed to travel or business). She even teaches him what she calls a 'culture course' with lessons on Russian music, food, and various traditions.

She's only a few years older than Shane and he actually finds himself looking forward to her visits. At this point, she's the only person other than his parents that knows he has a boyfriend.

About 4 months in, Shane finally feels comfortable enough to ask about what he'd been very excited about learning.

"You want me to teach you how to talk dirty to your boyfriend?" Ekaterina raised an eyebrow.

"Um," Shane blushed. Was this a little too far? Was this inappropriate to ask of a tutor? "Yes? If - If that's okay, I mean."

A slow smirk spread over her face. "This will be fun. Fun for me, now. Fun for you, later."

"I made a list," Shane admitted. He wasn't going to back out now, he put a lot of thought into his list. He turned to it in his Russian notebook and handed it to her.

She scanned over it indifferently. "You will use all this in one night?"

"Yeah, probably. Is it too much?"

"It is good you have a Russian man," Ekaterina said. "They have good stamina. Mostly, anyway."

And while it was a little embarrassing for Ekaterina to correct his pronunciation of please let me suck your cock, it helped that she seemed just as comfortable with that as there is tea on the stove.

And Ilya is like "No I'm out for drinks with the guys. Did you not see that we won, Hollander?"

And Shane texts back like "Of course I saw, that's why I'm texting." Then a few seconds later: "Download this app right now. Be discreet." with an app store link. And Ilya texts back like '??? 🤨 Shane, have you been hacked?'

And Shane is like 'Just download the fucking app, asshole. This is your reward. Username is Jane2481. Fucking HURRY.'

When David has been especially sweet, Yuna will reward her man by tying him up so prettily in their bed and let him give her as many orgasms as he can with his mouth and his cock. And then of course he get to come, but only inside if he asks nicely.

I also have this idea percolating of David coming to the cottage and seeing more than just a butt grab and kissing- maybe he walking in on the tail end of Ilya overstimulating Shane and making him say "Thank you, sir" through his tears- so he hightails it out of there and the boys don't notice he was there at all. And now David has realized he gave Shane the wrong sex talk-straight, vanilla- and while he cant really speak on gay sex (though Yuna IS pretty talented with a strap) he is trying to figure out how to casually ask his son if he has safe words and does good aftercare. The resulting conversation WILL end with both the Hollander men unable to look each other in the eye for a couple of days. Ilya is deeply delighted by this.

Thank you for keeping the Truth™ about service sub David alive 🙏🙏🙏🙏 I do this for all my fellow believers who have seen the light!!!

As for your ideas, they are all WONDERFUL. I've already talked about food being David's primary form of service submission, but I think him being a homemaker in general is all a part of it - gardening, keeping their home clean, vacuuming, dusting, doing the laundry, washing the dishes after everyone eats the food he prepared... It's one of the simplest joys he knows. And, considering he also works, it's actually a treat for him!!

Also my heart twanged at aging service sub,,, Yuna and david making accommodations for their play now that they're both older 🥹🥹🥹 still just as in love as when they first started 🥹🥹🥹 WAHHH 😭😭😭💕💕💕💕

David had never cooked for anyone else beside himself until he met Yuna (he'd never even been taught how - his dad was the 'traditional' type, worked for a living but never lifted a finger at home, no dishes, no food, that was all left to his mom; it was something his dad expected but never truly appreciated- after all, it was women's work so how hard could it be? - but David's contentious home life is for a different post). It all started when he'd sneak her orange wedges while she was studying at the library. He'd peel them for her and that small act of service always soothed something in him - giving her that small pleasure, providing for her, even if it was just in this little way, it made him swell up with pride.

And so he taught himself to cook. And eventually to bake. The more complicated the recipe, the more joy he derived from finally getting it right. And it felt even more special that this was something he taught himself to do for her, and eventually for their family.

He loves the ritual of it all, and not just making the food itself (although that's obviously the best part), but all of it, all the attentive components: setting the table, arranging what cutlery and place settings to use, what drinks to pair with the food,,,