Lizzy Leo :3

and then in ep 2, shane keeps ilya at arm’s length for two years for reasons (fear, shame, guilt, you know, the shane hollander experience™) but when he finally does let ilya back in/allow himselfs to give in to his own desires, ilya’s approach to him changes. he’s been “aggressive” in his pursuit of shane but once they’re together, he softens. he remembers how anxious shane was, he’s coming off chasing and goading him for two years, and while he still teases shane and is his usual cocky self, which he knows shane is not put off by, he’s treating him with a lot more care. he let’s shane set the pace again and he checks in even before they start because this time, he doesn’t assume that they’re on the same page. he makes sure they are and it isn’t until he has confirmation does he start going further. and i think ilya takes his time prepping shane, probably more than he might have in nashville, and makes it his mission to make this experience as comfortable and pleasurable as possible for him, makes sure that he feels safe and seen and taken care of.

and this time, they start face to face. which arguably creates another layer of intimacy that possibly wouldn’t have been there in nashville. ilya repeatedly checking in might not just have been him being a good partner but also his understanding of shane and how he wants to ensure that he’s not assuming something again and might end up being wrong because he really does want shane to have a good experience, a safe and enjoyable first time.

it goes to show just how much thought he’s put into this this early on in their relationship and how much this informs shane’s perception of him. because as much as shane is masc4masc, jock4jock, hyper turned on by ilya being his hockey equal, im inclined to believe that if shane hadn’t felt (sexually, emotionally) safe with ilya, he wouldn’t have felt as attracted to him.

“What.”

“Health testing for Boston was one two weeks ago.” Rozanov had his eyebrows raised like this was supposed to mean something. It did not.

“Okay?”

“I got my STI results.”

Shane stilled beneath Rozanov.

Rozanov felt it and rubbed a deft hand up Shane’s bare side. “I’m completely clean.”

Shane relaxed at that but his anxiety was quickly replaced with confusion. Why was Rozanov saying this? “Good for you.”

Rozanov lips curled up like they did when Shane did something boring. Shane frowned.

“Are you clean? Do you know?” Rozanov prompted.

Oh.

“Uh, yeah. I am.”

Shane can’t remember the last time he got tested but it didn’t matter. He knew how many sexual partners he’d had since (one) and (now) he knew that man’s status (completely clean).

“Why?” Shane ventured.

“I have been thinking, about…” Rozanov thumbed at the lube resting by Shane’s head. “Maybe only using this. Not…” he met Shane’s eyes and Shane folded like a house of cards. Whatever he was about to say, he was getting. “Maybe not using a condom this time.”

Oh fuck

-

Shane couldn’t move for 4 minutes after he came. It was about 6 more before Rozanov gained enough strength to pull himself off of Shane’s chest.

“Hollander,” Rozanov’s voice was breathy and plan-less. Then, “I’m getting rid of all my condoms.”

Shane let out a huffed disproving laugh. It was all he had strength for.

Rozanov’s arm was swung around his own head, and his hand played mercilessly with his ear. “We could stop using them. But…”

Shane frowned. “What?”

“We would both have to stop hooking up with other people.”

Shane didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t hooking up with other people.

Rozanov soldiered on. “It would be worth it for me. Would it be worth it for you?” A pause. “Do you want to?”

Did Shane want Rozanov to stop hooking up with anyone else just so he could ride Shane bareback roughly six times a year? It was shameful how much the answer was yes.

“Yeah okay let’s do it.” Shane said, calm out of sheer force of will.

Rozanov didn’t reply, he just swung around to shove his tongue into Shane’s mouth with the force of a thousands suns and didn’t pull away until he’d soaked up every noise he could draw out of Shane.

“Pass me the mayo, Shane.”

Shane moved to reach down the counter. Then the rest of the sentence processed and ice dumped down his spine. “What did you just call me?”

Rozanov’s jaw flapped a few times. Then he giggled like the world hadn’t just shifted on its axis. He laughed like Shane was being silly. “Slip of the tongue.” He shrugged. “But really, I haven’t fucked anyone else for a year and a half. And I haven’t wanted to fuck anyone else even longer. Do I really have to exclusively call you by your last name at this point?” Then, as if planning for the case that that was what Shane wanted, Rozanov grinned and leaned over the counter to peck Shane’s lips. “Last names are hot, though.”

Shane didn’t allow his brain to shatter. He took the pieces trying to fall out his ears and shoved them back in. What Rozanov said made sense.

What? Were they expecting to just call each other their last names for the rest of their lives?

“You can call me Shane.” Then, with more bravery than Shane felt. “Ilya.”

Ilya’s smile was Cheshire. “So are you going to pass me the mayonnaise or…”

“Oh. Fuck.” Shane tossed it over.

-

It was only that night, lying next to Ilya, with traces of cum and first names on Shane’s lips did it occur to him what Ilya had said.

And I haven’t wanted to fuck anyone else even longer.

And what he himself had fallen into thinking

What were they expecting to just call each other their last names for the rest of their lives?

Shane felt like panicking, Ilya had wanted him, only him, for years? He shouldn’t have said yes to this. What was he thinking? The idea of the rest of their lives?

But, it was too late to change anything now, right? He couldn’t leave. That would be weird. Besides, his clothes were still tumbling in the dryer down the hall—to be put on in the morning only after breakfast. He couldn’t leave.

This probably involved significant deconstruction-- taking the waistband almost fully off, probably partially disassembling the yoke to trim off excess fabric in seam allowances before making the dart. It's even probable they took the pockets off, to get the darts shaped correctly underneath them and then the pockets lying properly flat on the new butt-shaped panels.

It's interesting because I'd think you'd get a cleaner finish taking the yoke off and altering it at the side seams, then reattaching it, so the darts only have to be in the main butt panel. But I honestly don't know; I have a flat ass so I've only had to do this level of alteration on my RTW tops, never trousers. It's possible you'd have to reshape the yoke so much it's not worth it. And reshaping the yoke at the side seams might start getting involved with the side pockets, which, no thank you.

I think it's very likely these jeans were too large in the thighs and legs as well and were altered at the leg to fit there too, but that's just conjecture, those alterations wouldn't be visible at all. (From a zoom, the inside leg seams are flat-felled, which makes alterations harder but not impossible; the outer leg seams actually don't seem to be, so maybe they were resewn there. The fit is absolutely perfect through the thighs, though, so signs point to there having been alteration done.)

“You know, most people need to take stick out of ass to play better. I think for you is opposite.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/79553121/chapters/216077336

HEATED RIVALRY WEEK 2026

So this rookie walks up to Shane and Ilya, who are having lunch and talking strategy and he knows: he is going. to. die.

Ilya Rozanov is going to kill him. And then Shane Hollander will kill him again.

But his fellow rookies are giving him thumbs up and egging him on from underneath the table at the other side of the room where they are hiding, and he did lose their stupid game and he can't chicken out now so ...

The two hockey legends look up at him when he approaches. Ilya with a friendly smile, Shane with a questioning frown. The rookie takes a deep breath. "How do you decide who tops?" It comes out in a strangled, weirdly high-pitched voice. He closes his eyes. The question is out. He will die.

No one says a word. He opens his eyes. Ilya is looking at him like this:

Meanwhile Shane is looking at the rookie (but mostly at Ilya) like this:

Ilya (lauging his ass off): Is simple.

Shane (looking like he wants to murder everyone in this room and then himself): Rozanov ...

Ilya: Rock, paper, scissors. If I win, I top. If Hollander wins, he bottoms.

[five minutes later]