FFA in BK

🫡 more mean Shane coming right up! under the cut bc of fat shaming. this didn't quite go in the direction you were thinking, but I had a lot of fun writing this and hope you like it anyway!

Okay, so picture the bar in Tampa. Picture Ilya sitting there in his Hawaiian shirt, except he's the size he is in this drawing of @sesamesesame 's, pounding beers as Shane approaches. His eating and drinking have ramped up a little more lately, definitely because he's been letting loose and having fun and not at all because everything's falling apart, his dad's dying and his brother's an asshole and the love of his life is dating Rose Landry. Fuck it, though. He's Ilya Rozanov. He still made it to All-Stars. No one's said anything to him about his rapidly increasing weight - he knows everyone's thinking it, but they're too scared to say it. Like they think he can't take it; like they think he's fragile.

So when Shane says "Nice shirt", it breaks Ilya's brain a little. Shane can't be serious. It was maybe a nice shirt forty pounds ago, but now the buttons are straining around Ilya's stomach, and his fleshy arms pour out from the short sleeves. And he knows what Shane's into: Ilya's former six-pack, Rose's tight Pilates body. So it's definitely not a compliment.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov Characters: Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov Additional Tags: Weight Gain, Weight Issues, Sexual Fantasy, Chubby Shane Hollander, not actually chubby in this fic but like via fantasy, Supportive Ilya Rozanov, Internalized Fatphobia Summary:

“Shane?” Ilya flushes with guilt. “Was just a joke. You do not look fat at all.” He smooths his thumbs anxiously over Shane’s hipbones, silently cursing his stupid mouth.

Shane shakes his head, clearing his throat as he blinks back to himself. “No, I know,” he says. “I was just thinking… Never mind. It’s stupid.”

“Tell me.”

It’s textural time travel as Ilya’s hands traverse Shane’s body. 

The firm thighs, steel columns of muscle, persistent evidence of Shane’s hockey past in one hand contrasting with the supple give of presently plump tummy in the other bearing witness to this current life of indulgence.

Ilya can’t get enough. He's drunk on the sensation. HIs large hands roving up and down Shane’s body taking in the delicious contrast of hard and soft, past and present, muscle and fat, grueling workouts and lazy days of eating. The story of their lives playing out every day under his fingertips. 

Always feeling, always comparing, always reveling in the physical expression of their past vs present, and always searching for hints of the future – looking for more parts of Shane to get softer. The hint of double chin, the slight softness in the bicep, more belly between his splayed fingers. But always coming back to the persistent anchors of hard thigh and soft stomach. His hands living in two realities at once.

Shane trades his outgrown jeans for a comfortable pair of joggers that sit comfortably below his waist, wandering over to his floor mirror with a bit of hesitancy. He knows what he looks like. Still, he can't help but lift up his tee and ghost his hand over his middle. His abs are still there— barely. Honestly, there's not that much of a difference in his body. His ass and thighs are a little bigger. That's all. Nothing to write home about.

He'll just cool it on the late night dining hall trips and beer. Maybe add more cardio into his already exhausting workout routine. That'll fix the problem before he goes home for for the holidays.

Definitely. Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University

Weight Gain

Chubby Shane Hollander

Barista Ilya Rozanov

Ilya wanders into the bedroom, where Shane is standing shirtless in front of the mirror. His chin smushes into his neck as he looks down at his stomach. 

“Everything okay?” Ilya asks carefully. 

“No, yeah,” Shane says. “I’m just wondering. Do you think I’m just bloated, or am I starting to get a little bit —fat?”

Heat surges through Ilya’s groin at those words, the game he knows Shane is playing. He crosses to stand in front of Shane, joining his hands on the curve of Shane’s belly. 

“Hmm,” Ilya hums, stroking his fingers across the shape of it. “Let’s see. Getting round, your belly.” 

“Mmm,” Shane agrees. “True.” His eyes are darkened and his tongue darts over his lips, a noticeable bulge in his gray sweatpants.

Ilya has to swallow back a grin to keep up the performance.

“And soft,” Ilya continues faux-thoughtfully, pinching an inch of warm, pliant flesh and rubbing it between his fingertips as Shane sucks in a breath.

“It is—it is pretty soft, isn’t it.” 

“Soft enough to jiggle when I do this, I think.” Ilya takes a handful of Shane’s belly and shakes it once before letting go, both of their eyes fixing on the way it jiggles and bounces back down over Shane’s waistband.

“Huh,” Shane says, his eyes a little hazy. “So what do you think? Just bloated, right?”

Ilya takes Shane’s hands under his own and presses them deep into the soft pillow of Shane’s middle, leaning close so his breath ghosts across Shane’s ear. “Maybe forty pounds ago,” Ilya says, voice low. “But I think you know this is all fat, kotik.”

“Yeah. Probably.” Shane sounds a little breathless. He rocks his hips forward to rub himself on Ilya’s thigh.

“There is no probably,” Ilya tsks. He squeezes down on Shane’s love handles and purrs, “You liked my cooking so much that you ate and ate until you made yourself chubby, didn’t you.”

Shane lets out a low moan. His cock is starting to leak through his sweatpants, rubbing damply on Ilya’s bare thigh.

“Look at you,” Ilya continues, running his hands down the plump rolls of Shane’s back to grab a handful of ass in each palm. “Shane Hollander. Star athlete. Hero of Canada. So many Cup wins, so many goals. Who would have guessed that all he wants to do in retirement is get fat for his husband.”

“Fuck,” Shane gasps. “Please—please, I want—I need—“

“Need what, sweetheart? My cock in your ass, your dick in my mouth, what? Use your words.”

“Fuck, Ilya, can you—“

Ilya feels the moment Shane comes, the wet drag against his leg, the shudder of Shane’s breath, the sudden boneless weight of Shane’s head on Ilya’s shoulder. Ilya wraps his arms around him, rubs small circles on Shane’s back as he breathes through it.

2.7k, Explicit tags: Chubby Shane Hollander, Weight Gain, Body Image, Internalized Fatphobia, Body Worship, Frottage, Belly Kink “Just fucking leave it.” Shane whirls, and the mask of his face finally cracks open, shards of cold fury flying with the spittle from his lips. “My pants broke because I’m too fucking fat for them, okay? There’s no fixing that.”

Hell yeah he is. He knows how to carry himself and how to dress, he’s got his smug big-cat face and is starting to go gray at the temples and has probably caused a good few sexual awakenings in people who thought he was hot when he was thin and who end up only finding him hotter as he gains weight. And he smells good.

Hmmm I think they wouldn’t say anything to his face but would talk to Shane about it when he starts getting noticeably heavy. At first, it’s “Is Ilya doing okay?”, and then, later, “have you and Ilya talked about his weight?”. Furrowed brows and concerned glances behind his back as, over the months and years, he goes from having put on some relationship weight to having to make an effort to get up off the couch.

They have talked about it, Shane promises. It’s pretty unavoidable. But they’re adults, he respects Ilya’s autonomy, and his parents have to respect his.

Yuna might start serving mostly vegetable-based meals when they come over, trying to be a so-called good influence. David invites them out on rowing trips, though he’s generally less concerned about his son-in-law’s body than his wife is. He just wants everyone to be happy.

At first, they take Shane’s outward ambivalence as simple acceptance of his partner. The idea that he might be enabling something is out of the question… until it isn’t. Shane lets Ilya eat his leftovers one too many times, or he lets slip that we both like him like this, okay? So can we please not talk about this anymore?…

When Yuna picks up on it, it keeps her up at night, imagning her son doing she doesn’t know what to his husband (feeding him? Is that what they’re doing? It wouldn’t sound bad if she hadn’t seen Ilya breathing so hard on the stairs today, it’s not like she hadn’t had whipped cream licked off of her boobs when she was in college…), but it’s not a topic she’s ever going to broach.

Some of their friends, though, know pretty early on that something is going on. Shane and Ilya have been co-conspirators in their relationship since the beginning, and this isn’t any different. Rose figures it out, teases Shane about it a little. Marley doesn’t really pick up on it being any kind of sex thing, but he’s all “hell yeah, I’m glad you two are happy, brother”.

I’ve been feeling shitty about my art lately so while I originally had a longer comic, for now, pls accept this very brief moment of Ilya wanting to pounce on his man instead of going to a boring party 🫱🏼‍🫲🏻