I Definitely Love One

“Chopping carrots with Ilya,” Shane sings under his breath. “Making salad with Ilya.”

Yuna smiles softly from the dining room. This is one of her favorite things about her son. From the time he could (barely) talk, he made up little songs about anything and everything. The first time he’d done it, he’d been strapped into his car seat and watching cars go by. When he’d caught Yuna’s eye in the rear view mirror, he’d smiled with all 8 of his little teeth and waved.

“Dwiving,” he’d sung, all of 18 months old and barely able to say the word properly. “Dwivin’ wi’ Mama. Wuv Mama.”

Yuna’s not sure if it’s Shane’s way of processing the world around him, just A Thing some people do, or something special about her baby boy. All she knows is that from the first time he’d made up a little tune about Driving With Mama, everything turned into a song. When he’s comfortable and feeling at ease, Shane turns little things around him into music.

Learning to tie his shoes? “Daddy’s teaching me to tie my shoes. One lace over the other. Make the bunny ears!”

Gearing up for practice when he was 8? “Going to practice. Gonna be great. Gonna score a goal!”

Studying for a science test? “Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. Everyone says it because it’s true. Moving on—organelles and cell walls.”

Gearing up for his first Metros game as captain? “Taping my hockey stick. Going out on the ice. Gonna kick some ass.”

It’s something so uniquely, adorably, perfectly Shane.

Today, though? As Shane’s in the kitchen preparing a salad for lunch? For the first time, someone else sings along. For the first time in Shane’s life, someone hears the tune and lyrics that only exist in his head and joins in.

“Making salad with Shane,” Ilya croons along, hooking his chin over his boyfriend’s shoulder and wrapping strong arms around his waist. “Preparing lunch with my love.”

Shane smiles and sings back as Ilya nuzzles his neck. “Being domestic with my boyfriend. Thinking of boring things we can do together.”

Ilya laughs and kisses his ear before finishing the song. “I love to be boring with yooouuuu.”

Shane pauses on the other line, breath catching as he holds back overwhelming emotion.

“Mom,” he croaks. “I…fuck.”

Yuna stays calm. She mentally takes stock of the situation. Ilya’s fine—he just texted her, a few seconds before Shane called, to warn her of the incoming storm. David’s fine—he’s sitting right next to her, confused and alarmed as their son has some manner of episode on the phone. She’s fine. So what’s—

“—wi’ Dada!”

…oh. Oh.

It’s soft at first, but picking up in volume. Tiny pit-pats in the background accompany the most beautiful little voice Yuna’s heard since Shane made up his first song, Driving With Mama, from his car seat all those years ago.

“Eating,” the little voice sings in the background. It’s garbled by what Yuna assumes are half-chewed remnants of an afternoon snack; probably organic peanut butter on apple slices. “Eating wi’ Dada. Eating wi’ Papa. Dada on phone! Who on phone, Dada?”

There’s wet laughter in the background, further from the phone. “Oh God, Shane. It’s genetic. She’s a little you!”

More tearful laughter, this time from Shane. “That’s not—she’s adopted, Ilya.”

“I don’t care what the papers say. She is you. Listen to her, she is perfect. She must be part you, sweetheart.”

Ilya always had been a light sleeper, so no matter how lightly they stepped he was awake moments after the first shocked gasp.

Ilya knows it’s over for him. There’s no mistaking that there’s a man asleep on his chest in a clearly non-platonic cuddle. Usually Ilya would be punching the intruder, threatening violence to try and ensure they kept their mouth shut but he has quickly realised something far more important. With the way they are sleeping, Ilya on his underneath on his back and Shane on his stomach on top with his face pressed into the gap between Ilya’s neck and the couch, they can’t see his face.

He quickly pulls Shane’s hood up over his head to hide hair and rests a hand over it to gently discourage Shane from moving it should he start to wake up.

So Ilya just stares down his team and goes “you can be upset, but are going to be fucking quiet about it because if you wake my guest I’m sending all my blackmail on you to your wives, and then start fucking them to help them get over the divorce.”

So the whole “You’re fucking gay!” “No, I’m a fucking bi who is fucking a gay” conversation happens at a furious whisper, with Shane blissfully sleeping on Ilya’s chest as life implodes around him.

Shane may be a deep sleeper - and the argument in whispers - but even he starts to stir at the noise.

Ilya can’t have him moving his face into visibility now, so he just scruffs the back of his neck harshly and pressed him deeper into his shoulder.

Shane lets out a pleased (and not at all quiet) moan, and - worried that he is going to start talking - Ilya realises he needs to shut him up.

So he glares at the Bears to be quiet, while suddenly putting on the softest voice they have ever heard him use as he goes, “shhh quiet time now mоя любовь. Back to sleep.” And then shoves his fingers into Shane’s mouth.

To me, Shane grew up a Boy Scout-Mr. Fix it but will definitely pay someone to do household chores.

Imagine Shane must feel so fucking heartbroken that no one has even bothered to even ask him why he likes ilya or how they fell for each other.

Everyone's first thought is, "ew rozanov? That asshole? Really? Were there literally no other nice gay men around? Why does it have to be him?"

How exhausting and downright frustrating it must feel that he somehow has to "prove" to everyone that Ilya is the love of his life, that he deeply loves shane the same way shane loves him, that he is good and sweet and kind and knows shane inside out, that he "deserves" shane. Almost everytime he's said it , he's only met with people scorning at his choice and casually dismissing their own prejudices under the guise of "wanting someone better for shane." They are so quick to infantalize shane and make ilya out to be this crazy evil Disney villan.

#MyShane might be known for his pristine clean reputation, being Canada's golden boy but that man is so dead ass mean. People don't even get to know when he's reading them to filth cause of monotone delivery. People think he just has a very dry sense of humor. He doesn't give a flying fuck if someone on his team is going through a messy divorce, he is concerned about whether that player is gonna cost them games and affect their chances at playoffs. He probably doesn't even remember if his teammates have kids or how many. The man truly doesn’t care. It doesn't occupy space in his mind. His brain is just hockey, winning and ilya.

#MyIlya on the other hand is constantly shit on cause everyone just assumes that he's an asshole just cause he knows how to chirp well and is also annoyingly good at hockey. No one bothers to look into him beyond the media coverage of him. Ilya never chirps about anything related to family or spouses, he's never made a racist or homophobic remarks irrespective of on or off the ice. He's good with kids and would tell his teammates to send flowers to their moms on mother's day. He knows his teammates, has their adoration and their respect. He's sent more than enough drunk girls to their homes by calling them cabs and paying the tab cause they're drunk and he would want to have sex only when consent is given enthusiastically and sober. He's so annoyingly perceptive that the queer players feel both nauseatingly exposed and comforted at him clocking their rainbow ass. He's a sweetheart.

They are so Ying and Yang it makes me sick. They are two sides of the same coin. Shane doesn't owe anyone an explanation.

writings/headcanons of him admiring mickey’s beauty are so special to me because no one ever called him beautiful until he met ian!!! mickey resisted it a first but as time went on, he absolutely reveled in it.

Shane pulls Ilya into the photobooth and closes the curtain. Ilya is asking if he's okay, thinking maybe he's gotten overwhelmed, but Shane is digging into his pocket and paying. "I need photos with you right fucking now, Ilya. Just for us."

The first photo is them with arms around eachother's shoulders, grinning. Then they're kissing, pouring every bit of their adrenaline and desire into it. Their hands are in hair and under shirts and grabbing asses. They're pulling eachother closer and Shane's legs are hooking around Ilya and Ilya is lifting him up and kissing down his neck and-

Hiiii <33

I have SO MANY. This one's my favourite:

He really said stay away from my bf bc if he sees you, he'll kill you and i would rather he not go to juvie 😭 so valid of him fuck Frank

And this!!! 😾 Protective Mode Activated 😾:

😠If you even LOOK at my bf, I will stomp you to death w my hooves🤚

Also this baby ian moment 🥺 he was cradling Mickey's head and shit

And ofc, this one:

He said it w his whole chest!!! 😭

Also this is a tiny moment but I love how he was standing next to Mickey like his bodyguard 😭

“Hit my husband again and I’ll fucking kill you”