Dont look at me !

Yes absolutely he is becoming a PWHL coach. He’s doing constant promotional work to expand the league and its audience and doing interviews where he talks shit about all the creeps and losers in and running the NHL. “if me and my husband, Shane Hollander, had been female hockey players, we would have been criminally under paid and almost entirely ignored despite our epic love story. These women take their jobs incredibly seriously and play outstanding hockey. Of course some of them want to kiss each other. Would happen more in the NHL if the vile behavior of some players was not both tolerated and supported by teammates, coaches, and administrators.”

His players love him, the owners don’t understand his methods but can’t argue with results, and the NHL is actively pursuing their second defamation lawsuit against him even as they are actively trying to prevent Luca from doing public appearances with his new husband.

Now that they have his undivided attention, Shane becomes a regular guest commentator for PWHL games (never for Ilya’s team though, he’s in the stadium for those generally) and becomes a highly regarded figure for many PWHL fans.

To be honest, Ilya gets it. He doesn't think that any amount of media training could keep him from going fully off the rails if given the chance to talk about how much he loves Shane, how good his cock tastes, how he made Shane cum hands free the first time he was ever inside him. And the thought of literally any of that being chirped back at them on the ice like it's bad or filthy or shameful? No. Not happening. 

So Ilya pouts but understands, and gets over it. That is, until Shane accepts the invitation. Then there are hissy fits and overdramatic shouting matches with zero heat behind them ("Yuna, what the fuck? Why can Shane talk about our filthy sex life?" "Because he blushes when he says the word 'sex', Ilya. And because he's never made a face fucking joke in front of me.") and just so much sulking. 

Yuna knows it's a risk, and there's no way in hell she's going to be there for the taping. But she also knows that Shane's Golden Boy image was shattered to pieces with a single grainy video of him. 

Now is a chance to start over. They've had long conversations about this - conversations over wine, and walks, and in therapy. This being a "rebuilding period" for Shane's reputation, yes, but also for his agency over his own image. And if him going on a podcast to talk about why his knees are perpetually bruised during the summer will give him a sense of control over his life, then this is the penance Yuna will pay for not listening and being in his corner sooner. This is how she will support her son.

So Shane goes on Call Her Daddy, and Ilya sits behind the camera with headphones on, pouting dramatically when Shane is looking, but really just staring with love and adoration at his husband. When Yuna asks how it went, Shane just blushes and Ilya beams and says, "He will break the internet."

And he does. Of course he does. He can't say the word sex without blushing, but it turns out Shane Hollander can employ euphamisms and imagery like a goddamn romance novelist. 

Gif Sets are instantly made of him saying things like:

"It felt like cannonballing into a cold lake: every inch of me was suddenly alive." about Ilya handing him a water bottle when they were eighteen, or;

"It was a revelation." about their first hookup, or;

"It's the only place other than hockey where my mind goes quiet." about their sex life in general.

Entire OpEds are written about Shane's quiet devastation at the end of his Metros run ("They were going to hang my jersey in the rafters. Now they burn it in the streets."). During the Metro's next game, a huge number of fans turn up in his jersey, holding signs that say "We're Sorry." 

A fan account turning his quotes into steamy romance novel covers gets over 1 million likes on the cover they made of Shane's ridiculous cologne ad photo with the words, "I spent years surviving on the minutes we could steal" written over the top.

Ilya can't get enough. He starts calling Shane his poet, his author, his cunning linguist. He buys tank tops of his favorite phrases and wears them all the time. He and Rose even wear matching ones when they're shopping in LA that say Ravenous over the grainy footage that outed them to start with. Ilya frames and hangs the paparazzi photos.  

Eventually time goes on and the internet finds something else to obsess over and Ilya forgets all about it. That is, until Shane shakes him awake at 3am, looking haunted as he says, "Ilya, Ilya I need to tell you something." 

Ilya's brain is still in Russian mode, still in fight or flight when he mumbles, "What is it?"

"The podcast, Ilya, I..." for a second Ilya thinks he's having a massively delayed panic attack about the whole thing, but then Shane says, "I. I hired someone. An author. To write the talking points."

Maybe it’s a rare day when their schedules coincide and there’s nothing to do but be together. They still get up early anyway, don’t want to waste a minute together. At first it’s a typical morning: wake up, workout, shower, where they trade mutual blowjobs because they just can’t help it, need a little something to take the edge off. But then Ilya’s running his fingers over Shane’s softening cock and saying, “How many could you give me, do you think?” and Shane’s heart drops into his stomach. He knows Ilya will have a number in mind, and if he shoots too low it won't be good for him. So he stutters out, “I, uh, f-five. I can do five.” Five feels like a good number. Respectable. He’s never done five.

But then Ilya says, “hmm…I think we try for six.”

“Six?” Shane’s tongue feels too big for his mouth.

“Yes, Shane. Six.” His eyes are a challenge.

“Ok, Ilya,” and then Ilya’s patting his cheek and saying “my good boy,” and that’s, yeah. That’s good.

So Ilya helps Shane out of the shower and dries them both off because Shane’s already feeling a little fuzzy, clingy.

“Oh, and Shane?”

“Mmhm?”

“That last one doesn’t count.”

The guys are goofing around, sitting in on each other's sessions and making jokes, and generally being a pain in the ass. The photographer has just about run out of patience when finally it's Shane's turn.

Shane, consummate professional that he is, locks in. It's a little bit embarrassing to be doing this in front of the guys, sure, but he's got a decade's experience here. He can easily compartmentalize.

The photographer is ecstatic that someone is finally taking this seriously! It doesn't even matter that the room his filled with hockey players wolf whistling and shouting "Looking good, Hollzy!" because Shane hits every pose and makes every adjustment and is generally just a dream to work with. (It also doesn't hurt that he's so easy on the eyes.)

Ilya finds the whole thing fun at first but his expression is stormy by the end and when Shane finally gets cleared to leave the set, he's positively pouting.

"What's the matter?" Shane asks quietly as soon as they're in the hallway.

"You liked that?" Ilya asks. "Taking his directions?"

Shane rolls his eyes. He can't believe he thought something was seriously wrong. "Oh my god, you're ridiculous."

"Is a simple question!"

"I was just doing my job. It's not like I was having fun."

"Could have fooled me," Ilya mutters bitterly. "You were being very good for him, doing whatever he told you."

Shane's cheeks go hot, a Pavlovian reaction to Ilya telling him he's good even though it's wrapped up in the pettiest, most stupid accusation.

"You know I've done this like a hundred times, right? There is nothing special about this specific photographer."

Ilya's eyebrows rise. "You would go to your knees for any man who asked you, as long as he's holding a camera?"

Maybe there had been a pose or two involving Shane on his knees. That doesn't make this tantrum of Ilya's any less stupid- although looking at him now, Shane's not sure if he's still just pissed or if he's talked himself around into being horny about it, too. Ilya does have a tendency to do that.

Shane really shouldn't be encouraging this. But then again, "Why don't you take me home and try it?"