gimme kiss

Rose and Shane (who are both closet cinephiles; Shane because he thinks it's embarrassing to have hobbies and Rose because being a cinephile as an actor just seems cringe to her) are working their way through one of those "100 movies to watch before you die" lists and finally get to Dirty Dancing.

"I can't believe you haven't seen this," Rose says, and Shane grumbles something about not really being a fan of the genre and well, their rule is that if they think the movie is stupid they can turn it off after an hour so Rose finds it on one of the 6000 streaming platforms Ilya pays for (the Fast and the Furious movies keep jumping around) and starts the stream fully expecting for Shane to exert his veto power in an hour.

And then he just doesn't. He sits there and watches the whole thing, mouth slightly open. Usually they talk at least a little bit about the plot or the cinematography (Shane has developed some opinions in that regard, mostly adopted from Rose whose opinions he takes as gospel by consequence of knowing next to nothing about the industry) but Shane is just. Rapt.

Then Ilya comes stalking into the living room towards the end of the movie and by pure coincidence he's wearing a black shirt and pants and Shane looks away from the TV for the first time in 90 minutes.

"Shane," he says, and puts two fingers on Shane's jaw, entirely chaste but extremely proprietary. "Have you seen my iPad?"

"Den," Shane says softly. "It's in the den."

Shane is handing Ilya something. It looks like? a pair of shoes?

“Here,” Shane places the slipper things into ilya’s hands.

“What are these?” Ilya asks.

“Water shoes.”

“Why do I wear shoes in the water?”

“Because otherwise your feet will get muddy and sandy and touch rocks and seaweed and gross stuff,” Shane explains.

“So? I will just wash them. After.”

“But it feels yucky? On your toes?”

“I will be okay Hollander.” He hands the shoes back to him.

Shane looks extremely wary. “But what if you get a scratch on your foot from a rock or a zebra mussel?”

“Oh no, not a scratch,” Ilya says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Shane makes his ‘disgruntled frown’ face, which of course makes Ilya’s heart go all mushy.

“Fine. I will wear the shoes. Give.”

Shane looks at him like he suspects Ilya is about to chuck the shoes into the lake, never to be seen again.

“Shane, moya lyubov,” Ilya tries. “I am going to wear these stupid water shoes for you so I do not get cuts. Give them to me.”

Shane gets this soft look in his eyes. “What does that mean? Moya Loo-Bof”

He butchers the pronunciation, but Ilya knows what he means. He didn’t necessarily mean for Russian the term of endearment to slip out, but it did, naturally. His entire face blushes red.

“My love,” he mumbles, scared, even after their confessions last night, that he’s spooked shane off.

It’s an overnight trip to the cottage. Svetlana, Cliff, Jackie (but not Hayden) Pike, most of the centaurs, and for some reason David Hollander are all there. Everyone’s expecting some Death of a Bachelor style extravaganza, a dramatic send-off of Boston’s Finest Eater, a glittery funeral for the man who once did a line of coke off a model in a moving car.

But then they all get there and Ilya just wants to…hang out? Kinda? There are video games and jet skis and funny stories told around a campfire. There’s an impromptu game of charades that ends with Jackie Pike throwing a shoe at Cliff Marleau and splitting his lip open.

But it’s still Ilya Rozanov. His 2014 club-rat soul is as strong as ever. He’s going to make it a good time.

By 10:00 PM they’ve been playing never have I ever for over an hour trying to find something he hasn’t done. It’s David Hollander flabbergasted and impressed. It’s Wyatt Hayes shouting “what do you mean you’ve been kidnapped before?” And Zane Boodram yelling “I didn’t even know that was a position!”

It’s Cliff wearing a comically large pair of sunglasses to disguise the fact he’s sobbing while drunkenly telling everyone story after story about Ilya’s Boston days. He’s slurring “and no homo, man, but I’m not even mad those girls made us kiss during that threesome! It was an honor!” Before collapsing. Luca Haas passed out after the first round of Twister.

David Hollander is white girl wasted congratulating his future son in law, he’s shit talking Montreal for hurting his sweet boy so loud that they have to cover their ears. Him and Ilya are bonding over their shared experience with a stubborn spouse that they can’t say no to. Eventually Ilya switches completely to Russian without realizing and gets pissed when no one laughs at his clearly hilarious jokes.

Halfway through the night Sveta has to call Shane (who is at home completely sober) so Ilya will stop attempting to ride a peloton bike to their house. Ilya starts weeping the second he hears Shane’s voice. It’s “baby stop crying I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” and “holy shit did you get my dad wasted?” But David isn’t around to hear because he’s actually on a similar sounding FaceTime with Yuna. Ilya falls asleep on the floor cradling a framed photo of Shane as a little kid.

It’s one of the best nights of his entire life. Practice is cancelled for three days.

so Kid joins a kindergarten league. Ilya (retired to be a stay at home dad when Kid was two) attends every single practice without fail. He is either standing just behind the fence with his hands on his hips, murmuring in Russian, or he is sitting in the stands taking notes. Shane comes to practice when he can, but never ever misses a game. He also takes notes and films game tape. Theyre genuinely deranged together. The other parents gossip about the Insane Hockey Gays and their equally insane soccer Kid, because you better believe that Kid inherited Shane’s crazy obsessive tendencies and is the most passionate player by far.

They send so many unhinged emails about “inadequate coaching” and “uncoordinated training” that the coach gives up and just lets Ilya do it. The parents are annoyed until they realize how fucking hot the new coach is, and damn the kids are winning now? This is how Ilya ends up holding a clipboard on the side of the field in a bright pink team shirt and stupidly tiny shorts, failing to notice the flock of women (and one other queer parent) drooling in the stands behind him. Shane is sitting in a folding chair pissed the fuck off, because that’s his big strong husband with a clipboard. At half time he gets up to kiss Ilya (just a peck) and maybe squeezes his ass possessively while the kids aren’t looking to send a message to everyone else. Ilya is caught off guard for just a second, before he gets distracted by overhearing his daughter chirp the other team’s goalie.

“What did she just say?” Shane asks.

“Nothing. Was in Russian.”

“You need to tell her she can’t talk like that.”

"You try the steak rub, Bood? Good, yes? Yuna is a queen, I know. Yes, next weekend is good for barbecue, if weather holds. Littlest Pikes might visit, we will see."

"She will jump through the hoop on ground, why not 4 inches up?? So frustrating. Shane says to use real bacon for treats, maybe then, but is so salty. Nitrites too, you know. Bad for her. No, have not baked her special treats, Troy! What?? Recipe, now!"

"Shanya has new glasses. Very sexy. Even without them he can see puck better than 47, though, on wing? This man is terrible, yes? Is not entirely his fault, probably, Columbus is mostly very bad. Look at stupid tape job, though. Ugh."

"I want syrniki after game. You want? I have made you syrniki, Luca. Little pancakes. Yes, very, very good. Okay, not tonight, but come over on Saturday, we will have syrniki and force Shane to eat it too. Yessssssss, okayokay, good plan."

Examples of Shane quotes from his mic'd up games:

"Jesus FUCKING Christ what the FUCK is wrong with the Dallas refs holy SHITTING ass. Can they not fucking see their own fucking asses? Do they need fucking Lasik?"

"I am going to goddamn disembowel the next person who chirps us about the FUCKING baby shower. That shit was cute and Cassie fucking loved it. Come the fuck on, it's what fucking year? Men can throw baby showers, shit. Get over yourselves, assholes."

"He thinks he's hot shit, yeah, with ugly fucking edges like that. Fuuuucking ridiculous, am I right? What a motherfucking joke. Let's run a train on his ass next shift, you fucking in?"

"Dyks, I fucking love you, man, that shit was insane, so fucking dope. Yeah, yeah, I know Hazy loved it too. Broke their shit right up, they thought they had a lane, hahaha! As fucking if with you on the ice, bro. Nice. Fucking nice."

Ilya: Suburban Dad who plays some rec league, maybe

Shane: Intensely professional jock insulted by your basic lack of talent and skill, might kill you

- - -

Masterlist of my Tumblr drabble lore drops for Hollanov and HR is here. 🥰

The entire Boston roster piling behind Marly as he types, trying to decide what to say that could save them because their captain has been possessed by the spirit or a soviet military trainer with knife shoes and if they are forced to make double bagskates again they will either puke or die or both.

Shane, on the other hand, is not super into the idea.

“My parents don’t have a VHS player.”

“Is literally right beside your knee, Hollander.”

“Well, it’s boring! Why do you want to see a dumb recording of me as a kid anyway?”

“Because it’s adorable?” Ilya says incredulously. “And you are adorable?”

“Oh, I forgot we had that!” Yuna exclaims, coming to sit on the couch with her glass of wine. “God, I miss those days. Shane was the cutest timbit.”

Timbit, Ilya mouths to himself, his fingers curling around the tape. This is Shane as a timbit? In all his tiny little hockey gear at the Bell Center? Ilya needs to see it. “Shane.”

Shane looks at him and sighs.

They put the tape in.

Ilya almost dies as the grainy screen resolves itself into an MC and a tiny Shane, dressed in his hockey gear. His helmet is crooked on his head, his stick tap tap tapping against it as he stares at the interviewer, determined. His cheeks are big and round and pink from the cold of the ice, and though Ilya cannot make out his freckles, he knows from pictures that they’re there. The MC crouches down and a packed Bell Center is visible behind them.

“And here we have number 24, Shane Hollander!” The MC says in heavily accented English. “Let’s give him a round of applause. Shane, how are you feeling tonight, are you excited to be here?”

“Um. Yes.”

“And how old are you, Shane?”

Little Shane closes his eyes for a moment, taking a big, deep breath before reciting: “My name is Shane Hollander and I’m a hockey player. I am three years old and I go to Glebe Co-operative Nursery School in Ottawa and my mommy and daddy are Yuna and David. And I’m three.”

The MC laughs a little. “That’s a great introduction, Shane, thank you. Do you have anyone here with you tonight, cheering you on in the audience?”

Shane’s eyes open, but he doesn’t break out into a toothy grin. No, instead, Shane—serious, no-nonsense Shane—nods and leans in to the microphone like he’s giving a post-game interview. “Yes, my mommy and my daddy.”

“And are they big Metros fans?”

“Yes.”

“What about you?”

“Yes, too. They’re gonna go all the way this year. They have all the pieces for a winning team.”

“That’s what we love to hear, Shane, we agree and we love the confidence. Can we expect to see you on the ice someday? Do you want to be a hockey player when you grow up?”

“Yes, I’m a hockey player.”

“Do you want to play for Montreal?”

“Yes.”

“Can we get some encouragement for the team from you, Shane? Maybe a Go Metros Go?”

This, Shane takes extremely seriously. Ilya watches him nod with all the solemnity of a general going to war, and then releases his own tiny, passionate battle cry: “Go Metros Go!”

“Shane Hollander, everyone, let’s give him another round of applause!”

Shane is like no! It’s embarrassing! And this is public! And you wouldn’t make me actually do that to Rose would you? You know the answer, I’m gay!

Only Rose thinks the whole thing is hilarious and gives Shane the go ahead so there’s no real reason to resist Ilya’s begging anymore, still he holds out to the day before the interview.

“Fine! Fine! You can ask about Rose, but I get to ask about anything I want too!” And Ilya’s like yes yes of course my love. His boring Shane would hardly ask anything damning.

Fast forward to the day of the interview Shane is fondly exasperated with Ilya’s Rose questions, and Ilya is being a cocky bastard so happy with how it played out.

Until they switch sides and Shane breaks out his first question:

“Is it or is it not true that despite famously calling Scott Hunter ‘a nearly extinct fossil’ you think he’s hot?” The blood drains from Ilya’s face pretty quickly after that.

“Do you think Hayden Pike is a good hockey player?”

“Do you consider Hayden Pike a close friend?”

“Who do you love more: me or Anya?”

“Besides me who is your favorite teammate?”

But the thing is, people DO throw themselves at Shane left and right, he just doesn’t realize it.

The Voyagers are at a club and girls are eyeing him like the last steak in a tiger enclosure, but Hayden is about to bang his head on the table because Shane is in his usual Captain mode and paying zero attention to the girls. A few of the bolder ones approach him but he’s like “Hi, can I help you?” and “oh sorry, I’m on duty right now, I can’t leave my team” and Hayden gives up, he just can’t anymore. Jackie will need to step up and find this man a girl cuz Shane ain’t gonna do it on his own.

At brunch with Rose, the waiter is checking him out hardcore and smiling flirtatiously. Rose teases him about it, and Shane is like “???? He’s just doing his job? Isn’t it his job to be friendly?”

Years later, Hayden and Rose are trading war stories of Shane being oblivious to human attraction and Ilya’s just like, *shrug* you just need to be clear and direct with him, and Rose and Hayden both stare at him like “what do you mean?”

and shane says, "who is it?"

"lily!"

"oh." shane immediately sets aside what he's doing and walks over, saying to his mom, "that's ilya."

yuna looks at him in confusion as he picks up his phone. "why is ilya saved as 'lily' in your phone?"

and shane looks at her, away, shrugs as if it's obvious and simply says, "I can't have ilya rozanov saved on my phone, mom" before answering the call with a, "hey, baby" and walking away.

“you are here” “of course i am” “shane hollander is taking me home” “shane hollander-rozanov is taking you home” “shane hollander takes my last name” “yes he did. do you want to come home with him?” “i’ll go anywhere shane hollander goes” “okay then let’s go home baby”