I can't stop watching Heated Rivalry

Of course they all attend, and, as per usual, Shane and Ilya stick together as close as humanly possible all the time, but at some point they do get seperated for a moment as they get called to sign rainbow jerseys and take pictures with kids.

Ilya starts looking for his husband - he gets fidgety like a chihuahua with seperation anxiety when Shane is out of sight for too long, a fact that he conveniently avoids talking about in therapy, as he knows that Shane is not much better, so obviously they are both perfectly fine and well adjusted.

Anyway, he spots Shanes scribbeling something as he is standing next to a participation wall that is covered in colourful sticky notes where people write their thoughts for the question that is printed in big letters on the top: "What makes you Proud?"

Ilya's immediately sprints over to Shane because that is NOT the time and place for his sweet and lovely husband to write "being a olympic gold medalist, world champion and four times stanley cup winner :)"

He reaches the wall, just as Shane is ready to turn around and leave; a big smile hits Ilya like a ray on sunshine as Shane spots him.

"Solnyshko", Ilya wraps his arm around Shane's waist and presses his forehead against Shane's, allowing himself a moment to revel in the relief of having his Shane back, before turning them both back towards the wall. "What did you write?", Ilya asks and carefully trying for a carefree tone.

From the side, he can see a blush creeping up Shane's cheeks and he looks so cute, flushed and freckled and Ilya wants to eat him up and- omg Rozanov get it together, Shane being so pretty really fucks with your concentration.

"You know, just the normal stuff", Shane mumbles and tries to turn around, but Ilya presses his body even closer to his side - not that Shane fights against him really hard.

Ilya scans the wall, taking in the heartwarming messages of people being proud of being out and happy and living their best lives, of finding joy in their communities, of embracing their identities, of finally being comfortable in their bodies, of fighting for their rights and through hardships, of celebrating life and joy. And all this joy is so much and wonderful and it makes Ilya's knees wobbly and he is once again very lucky to have Shane to lean on.

And then, right under the "What makes you proud?" print Ilya spots that purple sticky note, covered in chicken scratch. Obviously the author tried very hard to write neatly on this one, but still, it's unmistakably Shane's writing.

Ilya's breath catches as he reads: "My husband. The strongest and kindest and funniest person I know. Who takes care others and of himself, every day. Who loves life and makes mine so much better. I love him."

Ilya reaches for Shane's hand. It is barely Shakespeare, but the sheer earnestness of Shane's notr make him feel like being checked into the boards, his knees really are close to give up now, his fingers seeking purchase in Shane's flesh it must be painful and he let's himself be hold by Shane's solid and warm body.

Of course he knows that Shane loves him, he tells Ilya every day, and he knows that Shane is proud of Ilya for going to therapy, for being a good captain... but reading it, here, and for everyone to see?

No, Ilya does NOT want to cry about it, not before he's got his mouth on Shane's cock and then fuck them both to tears afterwards.

For now he presses his nose in Shane's hair and whispers: "Kindest person? Seriously? What have I have done to be insulted like this, Lyubimyy?"

"What the fuck, Ilya?" Shane's face scrunches up in that adorable way that makes it hard for Ilya to suppress a smile.

"No it's true, ask entire league. They all say I'm biggest asshole. I worked very hard for that reputation."

"Oh don't worry, you earn that." Shane huffs.

"See, even my husband agrees."

Then Shane turns his head around just enough to eye Ilya with this open, soft glance of his and Ilya knows already his heart will give up. "Yes, you are the biggest asshole, but you also have the biggest heart. And I'm very proud of you, baby."

im imagining theyre doing drills and shane’s like: your speed’s good but you could be sharper when turning

and ilya goes: okay thanks for the feedback, you could be more aggressive during a board battle for the puck

shane: will do, thank you

all the centaurs internally: fuckkkk theyre saying “thank you” to each other for correcting their hockey, do we need a marriage counselor?

Ilya also falls in love with this blanket when he gets well-acquainted with it, but for different reasons. The polyester fibres are melted together from years of Shane’s body heat. It smells like Shane’s fabric softener and Shane’s detergent and Shane’s skin. It is so distinctly Shane in a sensible colour and a soft fabric, perhaps slightly different stitching where the original came out.

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.

Ilya: "My eyes are brown, I'm the captain of the Ottawa Centaurs, and before we were boyfriends, Shane Hollander and I were in a 7-year situationship."

And at first the comments on the video are all like "Haha, Rozanov, you're meant to pick something that could be true, not something that's so obviously a lie."

And then all of a sudden, people just start commenting zoomed in photos of Ilya Rozanov's eyes. And the internet loses its fucking mind.

So I like to imagine Ilya and Shane doing this whenever something moderately exciting happens.

Ilya finally gets a recipe right that he's been working on for a week? Shane's tasting it and slamming Ilya against the pantry.

They beat a difficult level in their video game? That's a cup-winning level celebration that results in the couch nearly getting broken.

Shane passes his level 1 Russian language test? Ilya's jumping on him and knocking them both to the floor in celebration.

Anya tosses her ball up and it accidently lands in the decorative bowl on the coffee table? That's a goal and they're (gently) throwing themselves on the floor to celebrate with a very confused but very excited Anya.

A few weeks post-partum, Yuna decided that their son should be bilingual. Yuna speaks to Shane in Japanese, and David speaks to him in French. Baby Shane catches on extremely quickly.

It isn’t until baby Shane is enrolled in daycare that the staff notices he has a hard time following directions and making friends.

Yuna and David find it hard to believe. At home, baby Shane is speaking two languages and actively translating between French and Japanese. It’s not until a few weeks later that Yuna comes to the realization.

“David,” she calls from the kitchen after hearing David read Shane a book in French. “Did we ever formally teach this kid English?”

And David is sitting there stunned, because no, no, they did not. Sure, David and Yuna spoke to each other in English, and to their friends and family in English when they visited the house, but they never spoke to Shane in English.

not because he's a baby a la classic man cold

but because he will AGGRESSIVELY try to pretend he is not sick

he is trying to gaslight others but ALSO himself

he has a gold medal immune system thank you he did NOT get taken down by ill pikeling spreading Elementary School Plague to him

not happening

as an itty bitty he lied so he wouldn't have to skip hockey, and that has NOT changed as an adult

his true toxic trait is that he WILL be typhoid mary in that locker room if it means he doesn't have to stay home and miss playing

like. no one else on the team understands Hollander Illness Behavior yet, so they're teasing ilya about being overprotective because shane is SO underplaying it and meanwhile ilya is just, "no, i am so fucking serious. get a medic and then call an ambulance."

and shane who is barely on this realm of existence and about 0.2 seconds from having Involuntary Floor Time is just, "don't worry :) i'll just take an advil or something :)"

First it’s planning their meet-ups months ahead. Shane has time to plan his outfit, do a pre-workout, and complete his prep routine. When he’s hosting, the temperature is perfectly set, lights low, fresh towels set out on the counters. When Ilya’s hosting or a hotel, he builds in time to do everything he needs beforehand.

Once they’re married, that changes. Living together means things can be a lot more spontaneous (which he loves) but he also likes to know The Plan™️.

And once they’re married, Shane has no problem asking for what he wants so he can plan out his day and routine. It’s not particularly sexy, but he guesses that’s married life.

“Ilya?”

“Hm?”

“Do you want to eat me out after the Canada match tonight?”

They had both been rooting for Canada at the world cup - Ilya even got them jerseys.

Ilya chokes and Shane frowns at him. “You okay?”

“I - just - what?”

“Well I’m going to do a full shower after my physio session with Amelia - I should be done by the time the Canada game starts. Oh - and I meant to ask if you liked those new frozen meals Lyn brought over. They’re a new brand.”

“I - yes, please Shane if I ever don’t want to eat you out, I have been replaced by aliens.”

“Okay, cool. And the meals?”

“Gross,” Ilya said. “But normal gross.”

~*~*~*~

“Ilya?”

“What?”

“Can we fuck on the couch tonight? With the fire going?”

Ilya grit his teeth and for a second Shane thought he would say no.

“Of course.”

“Maybe around 8? I bought 2 hour logs and the fire needs to be completely out by bedtime.”

“Okay.”

~*~*~*~

“Ilya!”

“Shane?”

“Look at your messages! I want to try that position. Maybe after we get back from our afternoon skate?”

~*~*~*~

“Ilya?” Shane asked through his cars bluetooth. Ilya was cooking and keeping him company on the phone as he drove back from an optometrist appointment. Much to his husband’s (fake) disappointment, his slight nearsightedness still didn’t need glasses for anything besides reading comfortably.

“Hm?”

“Did my package get delivered?”

“A package did. I put it on side table for you.”

“Can you go ahead and open it? I wasn’t sure what size to get so I got a few options. I want to try them this weekend - maybe Saturday? If they don’t fit, I’ll need to do another order tonight for 3 day shipping.”

He heard Ilya take a deep breath. He hated to give him another thing to do on top of making dinner, but he wanted to make sure they had the right sizes before they wanted to use them.

~*~*~*~

“Hey Ilya?” Shane said quietly, so the other people at the stuffy fundraiser couldn’t hear.

“Yes?” Ilya, his hand coming up to run through the back of Shane’s hair.

“I’m exhausted. Can we do shower blowjobs when we get home tonight?”

Ilya hand stuttered in his hair. Shane hated to disappoint him but he was too tired for his prep routine, his post routine, and cleaning the sheets. Or even getting up for Ilya to do it. Shower blowjobs had excellent clean up time and he could fall right into bed afterwards.

“That sounds perfect,” Ilya said, a little roughly.

~*~*~*~

Shane was going to kill him. Murder him. Like a sniper - out of the blue, at any given moment, Shane might call out to him all softly and then ask for hottest sex imaginable (all sex with Shane) AND THEN plan it for later, leaving Ilya incredibly worked up.

The worst part was Shane did not even know he did this to him - for Shane, it was just planning - run at 6, breakfast at 8:15, workout at 8:30, shower at 10, fuck husband at 10:45, off ice training at 12:15, etc. It drove Ilya insane.

“No.” 

They were sitting on his parent’s couch towards the end of their first summer in the cottage. Yuna and David were cooking and Shane was in the middle of watching a hockey game before Ilya, after a sideways glance, plucked up the remote and switched channels. 

Shane blinks. “Give me the remote, Ilya.” 

“Hm,” Ilya said, who is just as spoiled, but did grow up with an older brother. “Nope.” 

“I was watching that game.”

“Is old recording,” Ilya said, flipping through channels without looking over. “It is my turn now.”

“Your turn?” Shane said. “This is my parent’s house. Give it.”

“Your parents house, my turn.”

Shane made to grab the remote and then Ilya did the unthinkable. 

He yanked his hand up, away from Shane. “Go away, Hollander, I’m watching Ancient Aliens."

“Ilya.”

“Shane.” 

That’s when Shane reached again and Ilya - Ilya flicked him. 

“You - you!” And Shane pounced. 

“Give me the remote!” 

“Nyet!” 

“You’re being a child!”

“You are not respecting turns!” 

“Turn it back!” 

The wrestled - Ilya only had one hand to fight with since the other was holding the remote far away from Shane’s grabby hands. Of course, neither one was using their full strength and Shane’s playful smile betrayed his actions. At one point, he tucked the remote under his chest and curled around it, but that led to Shane rolling them both off the couch. Now on the rug, Shane had just put hands on the edge of the remote when they heard a sharp - 

“Boys!” 

They both whipped their heads around to see a wide-eyed Yuna taking in the messed up couch, blankets strewn around, cushions everywhere, her son and his boyfriend tangled together on the rug, Shane's fingers brushing the remote Ilya was holding away from him.

Ilya, having more experience, immediately took the opportunity. “Yuna! Shane is not letting me have turn.” 

“Shane,” her eyes zeroed in on Shane and narrowed. “Ilya is our guest.”

“But! Ilya isn’t a guest, he’s my boyfriend.”

“And he’s my guest. Honestly, you two.” 

“I will clean pillows, Yuna,” Illya suggested sweetly. 

“Thank you, honey.”

“But!”

“It would be nice for you to offer to clean sometimes, Shane,” Yuna uncrossed her arms. 

“Yeah, Shane,” Illya smirked and it filled Shane with an unreasonable amount of rage. 

“Dinner is almost ready,” Yuna said. “Shane, come help me.”

“But mom!” 

Yuna turned to go back into the kitchen, catching her husband’s amused glance. 

As Shane trudged into the kitchen, David told Yuna, “we always wondered what two would be like.”