the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be a part of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
In the background of the video clip, posted by a fan at the hotel breakfast just before Christmas 2018, Shane Hollander is talking on the phone. He looks tired but he's smiling, pushing scrambled eggs around his plate with a fork. "I saw, baby," he says. "No, definitely, no way that was slashing, I'm with you. You'll get them next time, though. Beautiful goal you got in the first, that was so fucking sexy. I can't wait to see you tomorrow. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Love you."
Which leads to a bit of an uproar because omg Shane Hollander has a girlfriend?? who plays hockey???? that's so on brand for him like. okay who was playing last night and got a goal in the first period, we need to find the woman who has Shane Hollander crooning into his phone like a lovestruck teenager. and the consensus lands on an unsuspecting and entirely unrelated CWHL forward who has never even been in the same city as Shane but the Internet is running with the story and there's journalists harassing her and Shane has to get his agent to call her agent so he can apologise for this mess and she's like, dude, I know it's not your fault, but Shane feels so fucking bad about it, you know?
And unfortunately it doesn't really let up as quickly as they thought because it's right before Christmas and isn't this a great story, fucking Hallmark movie shit, so a very unimpressed Leila (her name is Leila) has to look a reporter in the eye after her team just played a really good fucking game of hockey and everybody wants to talk to her about some fucking guy, you know? so she looks him in the eye and says, no, I am not dating Shane Hollander, I have never dated Shane Hollander, I will never date Shane Hollander, I am literally a lesbian. I have a whole-ass girlfriend. She plays for the Blades.
And Shane Hollander is so consumed by jealousy he almost chokes.
I do not know why the U.S. is hosting the World Cup as we generally do not give a fuck about soccer. And I would not recommend traveling here right now to my worst enemy.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
My dad was a public defender when I was a child and he would have to drive all over the district to visit various defendants in various jails which I thought was very interesting and I liked to hear about his experiences in various jails and how different they all were. He drove me to school every day and sometimes Iâd skip in and tell my classmates âMy dad is going to the jail in [TOWN/CITY] today!â mind you, I went to public school in a not very nice little town so my teacherâs first thought wasnât lawyer, she had other students with incarcerated parents. This was also occurring in the south where everyone is nosy as fuck so she eventually called my mother, presumably to scope out why her husband was a jail bird and if the chargers were relevant to me and my education in any way. My mom had to explain that my dad wasnât an inmate who kept getting transferred and that going to jail is his job.
âI know, ĐаНŃŃ. I promise, last one.â (baby)
âYou said that about the last two.â
âI am a greedy man. You know this. Just one more, I promise.â
Shane sighed and rolled onto his back. âFine, one more, but this is seriously the last one. Iâm exhausted, Ilya.â
Ilya leaned down, pressing a kiss to Shaneâs forehead. âХпаŃийО, ĐŃĐąĐžĐ˛Ń ĐźĐžŃ.â (thank you, my love)
âLet me see.â
With a pleased grin, Ilya held his phone in front of Shaneâs face. He waited patiently as Shane pulled his glasses down from the top of his head and squinted at the screen.
Shaneâs eyes trailed across the screen for a quiet minute, before he lifted his finger to point. âYou can play squeeze with this e. Thereâs a double word tile too.â
Ilyaâs eyes lit up, stealing a kiss from Shane before he started to place the tiles. âYou are genius. I love you. I am finally beating Yuna!â
âI love you, too. Now, please shut off your damn phone. Words with Friends will be there in the morning.â
âWilliamsâ victory feels especially well deserved because Shane Hollander is not an easy character to portray. As we wrote in our review of the series, Williams delivers âa masterclass in micro-expressions and physical restraint.â Shane spends much of the story fighting against himself, suppressing emotions he barely allows himself to acknowledge, and Williams manages to communicate entire emotional arcs through a glance, a tense jaw, or a slight shift in posture. Every crack in Shaneâs carefully constructed armor lands with devastating impact because of the work Williams puts in throughout the series.
Seeing that performance recognized on one of Canadaâs biggest stages feels incredibly rewarding. Williamsâ win is also historic in its own right. At just 25 years old, he became the youngest performer ever to win Best Lead Performer, Drama, at the Canadian Screen Awards, accomplishing the feat on his very first nomination.â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Chapters: 18/18
Fandom: Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov
Characters: Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Boston Bears | Boston Raiders Team Ensemble (Game Changers), Montreal Voyageurs | Montreal Metros Team Ensemble (Game Changers)
Additional Tags: Goalie Shane Hollander, Goaltender Shane Hollander, Autistic Shane Hollander, Center Ilya Rozanov, They both play hockey in this one!, (And good gracious there is A LOT of hockey in this), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 2: Heated Rivalry (Game Changers), Light Dom/sub, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Hockey-Typical Violence, Hockey-Typical Homophobia and Racism, Mentions of Real Hockey Players, Situationships, Rivals With Benefits, âWhat if the goalie mask is a metaphorâ The Fic
Series: Part 1 of #42 Shane Hollander
Summary:
No serious hockey fan or sports commentator worth their salt would have considered record-breaking Boston superstar Ilya Rozanov to be Shane Hollanderâs rival exactly, but sleeping with a man who had a specific offense-related vendetta against him and a wrist shot like a jet engine to back it up was probably ill-advised just the same.
Something about how on their wedding night, they stay up so late chatting with friends and family, dancing to Harrisâ increasingly cheesy playlist, and just sitting and watching everyone they love⌠that when they go to bed they just canât even muster the energy to fuck. They shower together and kiss and touch and grope and grind their bodies against each other, but by the time theyâre toweling off they just tumble into bed and barely awake kiss and touch a little more but then theyâre happily humming into each others mouths but the hums turn to deep breaths and then little snores and theyâre dead asleep.
Sometime just before 5am, Ilya sits up with a start like heâs breaking out of a bad dream, gasping, as he realizes they did not fuck on their wedding night. Isnât that bad luck? Or like some sort of curse? They cannot start off their marriage as a sexless one. That is not who they are. This cannot stand. Ilya has to remedy this before they are doomed.
The sun isnât up yet so itâs still kind of the same night, right?
Ilya feels himself getting hard through the panic, and that animal part of his brain clicks on. This, this he knows how to do. Seducing Shane is his favorite pastime and heâs got to get to work.
He turns towards his sleeping husband (god, Ilya canât actually believe that just yet), seeing that Shane he curled towards him, his hand on Ilyaâs thigh, heâd hardly noticed in his panic.
Ilya gently lifts Shaneâs arm so he can slide under it, lying down now facing Shane, grabbing his hip and pulling their bodies flush together. Shane sighs and his eyes flutter but he keeps sleeping.
Ilya peppers kisses over his eyelids, his freckles, the one ear he can reach. As he starts kissing down Shaneâs neck he feels a small gasp against his shoulder, and Shaneâs croaky sleep voice says, âIlya, what are you up to?â
Ilya lightly bites Shaneâs shoulder. âIâm trying to seduce my husband.â
Shane softly laughs and pulls his head back so he can see Ilyaâs face. âWhat time is it?â
âIt is still our wedding night.â
âIs it? Whereâs my phone?â Shane tries to turn away to look for his phone and Ilya grabs his neck and pulls their naked bodies back together. He can tell the moment Shane feels Ilya hard on Shaneâs thigh, because Shane rolls his hips a little and starts to harden too.
âMmm. Fuck, Ilya, I was so tired I barely remember getting into bed.â
âDo you feel rested now?â Ilya nips up Shaneâs neck and under his chin.
Shane runs his hands down Ilyaâs bare back and grabs on to his ass, pulling himself harder against Ilya so they both can feel the friction.
âI am definitely less interested in sleep. Did you get so horny in your sleep it woke you up?â
âNo, I was having nightmare that I didnât fuck my husband on our wedding night. Was horrible.â
Shane laughs into Ilyaâs neck, but is now rolling his hips, grinding himself on Ilyaâs thigh. Both of their mouths roaming each others throats, faces, anywhere they can reach. âIlya we fucked twice the day of our wedding. Once in the morning, once right before my parents arrived because you said you had to or you might throw me over your shoulder right after the ceremony.â
Ilya stops Shane with a long, deep, exploratory kiss. Shane chases his mouth after they break from the kiss, as Ilya says, âYes, but we werenât husbands yet.â
âBut we are now.â Shane leans in for an awkward smiling kiss, where their lips donât meet quite right and their teeth almost bump. Heâd gotten used to these kisses over the years, and he loved them in all their awkward glory.
âSo, weâre both awake and itâs still our wedding night. What are you going to do to me Mr. Hollander-Rozanov?â
Ilya growls as he finally rolls on top of Shane, nestling between his thick thighs. He grabs Shaneâs wrists and locks them over his head with one hand, while the other gets to work opening Shane up.
âYou should find something to hold on to, husband.â
(This just randomly came to mind and Iâm tired so forgive the typos, grammar, etc. Iâll probably edit it in the morning.)
shane likes to be thorough with everything, so while heâs learning russian he is learning how to write in cyrillic. at first ilya is like âaww is moya lyubov going to write me a love letter?â and teasing him about it bc when would shane ever need to write something down in russian but shane doesnât care.
shaneâs english handwriting is perfect, it looks like a font on a computer itâs so uniform and neat, but his cyrillic handwriting is all over the place like a childâs and ilya finds it adorable and teases him even more which obvs makes shane do the angry kitten face
but one year for ilyaâs birthday shane does actually write him a love letter in russian, cyrillic alphabet and all, heâs obviously put a lot of effort into his handwriting because its neater than before (but still a bit childlike and not very confident) and ilya bawls his eyes out bc thatâs his shanya đ
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
so hollanov take cliff out, like a restaurant or a quiet music bar and cliff can't take his eyes of shane so Ilya corners him (in a sexy way) and asks 'aww marly are you jealous??? stop murdering him with your eyes, I'm your best friend forever I promise'
and cliff looks him dead in the eye saying 'what the fuck? I'm not jealous of you, rozanov,' smiling 'i want to fuck your husband'
Ilya didnât recognize the dark blue sheets his face was buried in when he woke up. Looking around to the things hanging on the walls wasnât exactly helpful either. It was just a bunch of weird art landscapes. He didnât recognize anything, till he saw a framed photo on the wall. Why the fuck was there a photo of Scott Hunter hanging in this personâs bedroom?
Ilya didnât have time to dwell on that, once he realized who it was stood next to Scott in the picture. It was Shane, the same person who was wide awake next to Ilya, with his reading glasses on while he scrolled on his phone.
Shane looked up from the article he was reading, when he felt Ilya shifting in bed next to him. âMorning sleepy head.â He told him. âWant some breakfast? We have a bit before weâve gotta be on the road for the airport.â
Ilya rubbed the sleep from his eyes. âHollander, what time is it?â He asked, words coming about a bit rough because of his accent. He was still tired.
â6:45. We gotta be out of here by 9 to make it to the airport to have plenty of time to make the flight to Tampa,â Shane explained. âStill canât believe you get to debut on a fucking Storm.â
The Storm shows were always important for the entire Lightning roster. They were the developmental equivalent of the main roster pay-per-views. It was where blow-offs for story-lines happened. It was where new story-lines started. It was usually where, if you were lucky, you usually put someone over on the way out.
Shane stretched a bit. âHave they told you how your debut is gonna go yet?â
Ilya nodded, already starting to check his phone. âThey have said I am interfering in main event in someway. Specifics will be ironed out when we get to arena.â
Shane nodded, looking over at Ilya. âSo youâre gonna be the reason Troy retains his title?â
Ilya looked a bit confused. He got up off the bed, to start gathering up his clothes. âHow do you know Barrett is keeping belt?â He asked. He knew he should probably finally shower, since he hadnât the night before.
Shane smiled, shrugging his shoulders a bit. âHe was originally supposed face Wyatt, but since heâs out with a torn ACL, they asked if I could fill in, since Troy is retaining anyway.â He could only describe the gleeful little smile that was on Ilyaâs face as concerning. âWhy do you look so fucking giddy about that, Rozanov?â
Ilya came to a stop in the doorway to the bathroom. He had a mischievous glint in his eyes. âBecause Hollander,â he told him, licking his lips. âThat means I might get chance to put you through table.â
Shane rolled his eyes. âWhy are you so insistent on wanting to put me through a fucking table?â He asked.
âBecause of how much you do not want me to put you through table.â Ilya answered simply. âDo you need anything before I shower, Hollander?â
Shane shook his head, as he started to finally get out of bed as well. He was careful to make the bed as he got up. âDo you have any food allergies?â
âNo. Why the fuck are you asking me that?â Ilya called out, as he was already turning on the water so he could shower.
âBecause I was gonna make us breakfast, and I donât wanna be the asshole who throws off the entire card for tonight cause I caused you to go into anaphylaxis over eggs and a smoothie,â Shane told him honestly, as he put on his shirt from the night before.
He headed to the kitchen to get started on breakfast for the two of them. He was making the same thing he always made. His egg whites, spinach, toast, and smoothie. The only thing that changed was that he was making enough for two.
Ilya was quick in the shower. He reached for a towel, and started to dry himself off. He quickly realized that his bag, that had all of his clothes in it, was still by the front door, where heâd left his and Shaneâs things the night before.
Shane looked up from the stove when he heard footsteps, only to be greeted with the sight of Ilya still dripping wet and wrapped in a towel. âRozanov, why are you still naked?â
Ilya made his way over, digging through his bag for his clothes. âBecause I forgot to grab my stuff from my bag,â he started to explain. âBesides Hollander, you get new excuse to get to stare at my tattoos.â He teased, as he dropped the towel and started to get dressed in the middle of the living room.
Shane suddenly felt his throat go a bit dry. He knew that it was going to be hard to focus on his cooking till Ilya was at least partially clothed. âFigured Iâd make us breakfast before I shower.â
âMh, let me cum on your face and you make me food? What did I do to get this lucky, Hollander?â Ilya teased, as he was finally sliding a clean t shirt over his head. âAnything that I can do to help?â
âPut the frozen strawberries in the blender, and never tell our coworkers that we are about to get on a three hour flight with the first half of that statement,â Shane told him as he rolled his eyes.
Ilya nodded, and finally joined Shane in the kitchen. âI can do that.â He assured. âBut I do not know why is big deal that people know we hooked up. Is not a big deal. Happens all the time in the business. For fuckâs sake, I live with fuck buddy in Boston, and she is current womenâs champion on main roster.â He said casually.
He didnât understand what the deal was. Plenty of people in the wrestling business fucked other wrestlers. Honestly, Ilya didnât get why this was any different. That was, until he saw the look in Shaneâs eyes that could only be described as pure fear. âOh, I am guessing you are not out, Hollander?â
Shane nodded. The rest of his body was stone still. He had never even admitted it to himself, much less anyone else. âNo,â he whispered. âNo. Iâm not and the thought of doing it scares the shit out of me.â
Ilyaâs fingers hovered over the button to turn on the blender. He stopped what he was doing, to step closer to Shane. His hand moved to grip Shaneâs hip. âBreathe Hollander,â He told him softly, and waited till he heard Shane get at least a few in and out before continuing. âRelax. I would not dream of outing you. I know I am heel, but I am not asshole.â He assured him softly.
Shane nodded. Between the way Ilyaâs hand had already found its way from his hip, to be splayed out against his stomach. âThanks, Ilya.â He murmured. It was the first time that he could think of that he had called him something besides Rozanov.
Ilya noticed it just as much as Shane did. He rested his head on Shaneâs shoulder. âNo problem, Shane.â He murmured, putting emphasis on using his first name as well. âDid not know we were on first name basis outside of ring now.â
Shane laughed at his attempt to break the air of tension that was left in the room. âYâknow, pretty sure touching each otherâs dicks will put you on a first name basis with a guy.â He teased.
That at least got a laugh out of Ilya. âGood point. Good point.â He murmured happily, as he finished putting the frozen fruit into the blender.
Shane smiled, and added his various supplements in as well. âCan you get the toast started?â He asked.
Ilya nodded, and headed over to the toaster, putting two slices of Shaneâs weird wholegrain bread that was covered in seeds in the toaster. âSo, are you excited to be on card for Storm for once, Hollander?â He asked, with a teasing edge to his words. He knew damn well that this wasnât Shaneâs first time being on the card, but if Ilya had learned nothing else in the past 24 hours, it was incredibly fun to get a rise out of Shane Hollander.
Shane let out a little huff, as he was pouring the almond milk in the blender. âFuck you. Iâve been on Storm,â he insisted. âItâs my first big singles match on one sure, but I have been on the card.â
Ilya nodded, taking a sip of his glass of water. âMh, yes battle royal and random tag matches. Crazy.â He murmured.
Shane rolled his. âMore tv matches than youâve had, Rozanov.â He pointed out, before turning on the blender.
It wasnât long before the two of them were sat on the stools at Shaneâs kitchen counter, eating their breakfast, and talking about the upcoming show. It was a quiet almost domesticity that neither of them had really expected from a hookup.
Once the dishes were done, and Shane had showered, it was time for the two of them to be getting in the car to head to the airport. Ilya couldnât help his grin. âDo you mind if I put on music Hollander?â He asked, not wanting to have any level of awkward silence in the car.
Shane nodded. âGo ahead,â he told him with a smile. He usually just listened to podcasts in the car, but he figured he could save them for the flight instead of reading his book heâd brought with him.
Ilya smiled and got his phone connected to the SUV, so he could play the usual playlist that he had on when he was on the road for indie shows. It got him hyped up for matches.
Whatever Shane was expecting, it was not the opening of Britney Spearsâ Hit Me Baby One More absolutely blaring through the car at full volume. He reached over to turn the music down a bit. âThis has gotta be a fucking bit, right? This is what you listen to?â
Ilya laughed a bit. âWhat? Is my hype up playlist, Hollander.â He teased with a grin. âDo not tell me you do not have playlist that hypes you up before a match.â
Shane shrugged a bit. âI do, but itâs not likeâŚLook, that is just not what I was expecting music wise from the guy who is notorious for blood in every match and wanting to put me through a fucking table.â
All Ilya could really do was shrug. âI am multi-faceted man, Hollander.â
As he continued to drive them to the airport, Shane found himself actually starting to enjoy Ilyaâs music, even humming along to the few and far between songs that he recognized.
He parked at the airport right as they were arriving. Ilya had an exaggerated pout on his face. âYou could have at least let me finish the Bad Bunny song, Hollander. We have time. We are not going to miss flight to Tampa.â
Shane rolled his eyes, as he was getting both of their bags out of the back of the SUV. âDo you even understand any Spanish Rozanov?â He countered.
âIs not about understanding it, Hollander! Is about the vibes,â Ilya insisted, as he took his own bag from Shane.
Shane rolled his eyes and adjusted his sunglasses. âWhatever you say Rozanov.â
Once the two of them were waiting at the gate to board their flight to Tampa, with several of their coworkers, who were also flying to Tampa for Lightning Storm. The two of them had just gotten seated at the gate, and Shane had just gotten out his book to read a for a bit, when Ilya was already getting up, with a simple, âBe right back, Hollander.â
Shane gave him a small nod, assuming that he was heading to the bathroom or something. âAlright. Iâll watch your bag.â He assured.
Ilya nodded, and got up, to seemingly wander off on his little quest that heâd given himself.
Shane looked up from his book again when he heard Ilya sit back down. He was admittedly, a bit confused by the sight of the McDonaldâs cup and bag of food that he was carrying. âHow are you already hungry? We ate breakfast before we left my apartment.â
Ilya nodded, as he was taking a sip of his coke. âI know,â he told Shane simply. âBut going and getting McGriddle sounded good,â he explained. âI got you hash brown.â
Shane shook his head. âSweet, but no thank you. Iâm on a diet.â
Ilya shrugged. âMore fried deliciousness for me,â he said simply, as he went right back to eating his food.
Shane happily got back to reading his book. It was another 45 minuets before their flight. âIâm gonna go get some coffee real quick. Will you watch my bag?â He asked.
Ilya nodded with a smile. âOf course, Hollander, he assured, keeping an eye on Shaneâs things.
Shane was thankful that there wasnât a line at the airport Starbucks, so he could get his usual iced coffee with almond milk, and two pumps of caramel syrup. It was the only sweetness that he really allowed himself in his coffee.
He made his way back carrying his coffee. He smiled a bit, glad that Ilya was watching his stuff.
Ilya smiled a bit, looking over at him. âI decided to glance at your book. Did not take you for romance novel type, Hollander,â he teased.
Shaneâs face flushed. âShut upâŚâ He insisted, as he led his book back into his carry-on bag. He hated knowing that Ilya knew just what he had been sitting there reading. âI donât get how what I was reading is anything. you need to be concerned about.â He insisted.
âBecause you were sitting there, reading a book that is basically porn when sitting next to coworkers,â Ilya answered, shaking his head. âIs cute that you think no one else would notice.â
Shane rolled his eyes, âIt is not basically porn and for the love of God keep your voice down,â he muttered through grit teeth.
Ilya couldn't help his laughing. He loved making Shane blush like that. It was quickly becoming his favorite thing to do that wasnât in the ring. âRelax Hollander. No one heard me.â
Harris, who was the current head of social media for the majority of the company, and was currently sat across from the two of them, laughed a bit, âOh I definitely heard that.â
Shane shot him a glare. âWhy the hell are you even coming to Tampa, Drover? Thought you usually stuck to the main roster.â
Harris shrugged a bit. âI always get stuff from any Lightning Storm,â he explained. âBesides, not every show we have the in ring debut of royalty.â
Shane for a moment looked incredibly confused look. He only knew of one debut that was happening.
Ilya was just smirking. âOh so they are letting me be death match prince after all? I was worried I would not get to use my coolest nickname.âHe murmured. âWho is this, Hollander?â He asked, looking between Shane and Harris.
Harris spoke before Shane could. âI handle a good chunk of AWWâs official social media accounts,â he explained. âWeek to week stuff for Lightning is usually handled by an intern, but I come to any of the Storms for capturing the big stuff.â
Ilya nodded. âLike my debut.â
Harris smiled. âExactly. And getting to see my boyfriend beat the shit out of Hollzy here.â
âYou say that like it wonât still be a good match,â Shane countered. âBesides, itâs my first title match.â
Ilya chuckled. âMaybe you will actually get to win the second one then.â
All that got him was an eye roll from Shane, as they started boarding for the flight from Long Island to Tampa.
The second they were getting into a rental car together in Tampa, Ilya insisted on being the one behind the wheel, since he insisted Shane drove âdrove like a cautious tortoiseâ.
Shane had to turn down the yet again, aggressively loud club music to take a phone call.
Ilya couldnât help his glare, but did the polite thing and paused the song. âWho is it?â
Shaneâs answer came in the form of him putting it on speaker. âScott, hey, whatâs up?â He was always happy to talk to Scott Hunter, especially before the, what to this point, was the biggest match of his career.
Scottâs voice came through the phone clear as day. âYou amped up for your match tonight, Rook?â
Ilya laughed a bit. âShould be more excited for end of match.â
Hearing that familiar accent had Scott a bit nervous. âShane, who is that thatâs riding with you?â He asked cautiously.
âRozanov, why?â Shane asked.
Scottâs answer was somewhat sharp. âShane, take me off speaker.â
Shane looked a bit confused, but still complied. He took the call off speaker, and held his phone to his ear. âDude, donât worry. Iâm not letting him talk me into like, table spots or anything.â He assured jokingly.
âYeah, but youâre clearly not giving a shit about kayfabe either,â Scott countered. âYou realize the two of you are gonna be booked into a feud after tonight, right?â
Shane looked confused. âIâŚno. I didnât know that. How could I have possibly known that?â
âBecause itâs basic fucking storytelling, Hollander. Heâs gonna cost you the title.â Scott explained.
Shane still wasnât quite sure what it was that Scott was getting at. âWhat does that have to do with me being in the car with him right now?â
Scottâs frustration at Shaneâs lack of understanding was clear in his tone. âBecause Hollander, that means youâre gonna be riding back to the hotel with him. Which fans might see you two, who just beat the shit out of each other getting into the same car to leave the arena.â
Shane rolled his eyes. âJesus, fucking fine. Iâll ride back to the hotel with Harris or something.â
âNope. Canât ride with Harris either. Cause heâs riding with Troy,â Scott pointed out, âYou know, the guy who you just beat.â
âBeat him by disqualification,â Shane pointed out.
Scott was clearly starting to get annoyed with Shane. âStill a fucking loss, Rook.â
Shane ran his hand through his hair. âAlright. Alright. You made your point. I will find someone else to ride back to the hotel with.â
Scott let out a sigh. âGood, cause I know I taught you better than to disrespect kayfabe like that, Hollander.â He admitted, before joking. âI swear, I think Rozanov is rubbing off on you, Rook. Heâs a bad influence.â
Ilya overheard the snide remark, so he decided to speak up to his own defense. âIs not the 80âs anymore, you old fuck. Heels and faces can be friends outside of ring.â
Shaneâs grip on his phone tightened. He shot Ilya a glare. âAlright well, Mr. Hunter. I am gonna let you go, before Rozanov decides to stick his foot any farther in his own mouth.â He quickly hung up, before he looked over at Ilya. âThat was not necessary.â
Ilya nodded. âI think it was, but okay.â
Shane couldnât help his befuddled look. âIn what way was calling legend of the business Scott Hunter an old fuck necessary?â He asked.
âBecause he was talking like an old fuck with mindset of the territory days,â Ilya said simply, âBut I know you are too much of good boy to say that.â
Something about his answer only confused Shane even more. âYou moved here from Russia when you were like, 12. How the fuck do you know about the territory days?â
Ilya shrugged a bit. âMarly would teach me about wrestling history when I would ride with him to bookings,â he answered simply.
Shane nodded. He hadnât expected Ilya to know about that sort of thing. From what Scott had taught him about the scene Ilya had come from, it was all flash, no substance with no real respect for the business.
That wasnât what Shane saw when he watched clips of Ilyaâs matches. All he saw was someone who saw wrestling as a very dangerous form of theater.
He looked over at Ilya, who was clearly focused on following the GPS line to the arena. âMaybe if youâre good, and Troy is up for it, Iâll let you put me through a table tonight.â
Ilya had his seat on the opposite of the hard cam side, so he wouldnât be noticed by the fans until the production truck wanted him to be noticed. He could just sit there happily, sipping his coke, with a member of production on one side of him, and a member of security on the other. Until the main event, he could just sit there and enjoy wrestling.
He had to hyper focus as soon as he heard the ring announcer, Rose start her little script.
âLadies and Gentlemen, itâs now time for your Main Event. Making his way to the ring, weighing in at 215 pounds, from Vancouver British Columbia, your reigning and defending Lightning Champion, Troy Barrett.â
Troyâs music hit. He made his way to the ring, carrying his belt in hand. He knew how tonight was going to go. Screwy finish, but he was leaving with the belt, so that was all that he really cared about. It was a bit of a surprise to be sharing the ring with Shane, but he was bookingâs idea, since Hayes was out with an injury. Heâd never been in the ring with him before, but he figured anyone trained by Scott Hunter was at least gonna be decent.
Rose continued her script once Troy was in the ring, and his belt was handed off to someone at ringside. âAnd his opponent, making his way to the ring, weighing in at 201 pounds, Ottawaâs Shane Hollander.â
Shane was hopeful his nerves werenât obvious on his face as he made his way through the curtain. This was the biggest match of his career. The run through of the major spots that the three of them had done before this had somewhat soothed Shaneâs anxieties, but now that he was actually making his way down the ramp, and climbing in the ring, it was a whole different story.
He outstretched his hand for Troy to shake. Thankfully, unlike his dark match with Ilya, Troy shook his hand. Good, at least he was following something that Scott had taught him.
The match was going good, at least from where Ilya was sat. He was watching the spots like a hawk. His Que to go over the barricade and get involved in the match was when Troy kicked out of Shaneâs pin attempt. He smirked, when he saw Shane going for the roll up. Of course, just as planned, Troy kicked out at the two. That was when the guy from production was nudging Ilyaâs shoulder. âThatâs you signal Rozanov.â
Ilya sat his now empty cup, and made his way over the barricade. The commentary team was freaking out, about how the death match prince was deciding to make his own chaos. He was throwing forearms without remorse. When he had Shane against the corner of the ring, he spoke, just loud enough for Shane to hear him. âYou are ready for table spot, yes Hollander?â
Shane nodded. âAs ready as Iâll ever be.â
The precut table was already set up outside the ring. All it would take was Shane getting thrown onto it for it to break.
The backdrop went flawlessly. Shane went crashing through the table flat on his back. Heâd been told before this match how important selling the spot was. Selling the spot wasnât the issue. Shane was in enough pain that he didnât need to worry about how well he was selling.
He was slow to get up off the floor. He now understood why it was that Scott had warned him about the pain of taking a table spot.
Rose had made her way back into the ring. She mouthed to Shane, a quick âYou good?â
She waited till he gave the small thumbs up, and the referee was raising Shaneâs hand. âAnd your winner via disqualification, Shane Hollander. However, still your Lightning Menâs Champion, Troy Barrett.â
Ilya was stood in the ring, grinning like a mad man. He was the reason Shane was announced as the winner, but wasnât getting to carry out that stupid tacky black, gold and blue belt.
They were making their way up the ramp. Ilya didnât speak to Shane till they were firmly in the back. âSo, Scott Hunter had to be old and boring and say we could not ride back to hotel together, yes?â
Shane nodded. âUnfortunately. So I am gonna go get my bag out of the rental car, since Rose said I could ride with herâŚ.â He murmured.
Ilya nodded. âWell, text me when you get to hotel, yes?â He told him.
Shane nodded. âWill do.â
He got his bag and waited for Rose. He figured it would be fun to catch up and gossip with her.
Rose couldnât help her smile. âSo, I couldnât help but notice the vibe between you and Rozanov out there.â She pointed out casually, once they were both in the car, and she was driving towards the hotel.
Shane shook his head. âWhat? You thought there was a vibe? What kind of vibe were we giving off?â
âThe kind of vibe that had me texting Svetlana while sheâs driving to Boston to ask if heâs ever mentioned you,â Rose admitted. âDid find out that he has apparently been asking her for any possible information that she could give him about you.â
All that got her was an eye roll from Shane and a gruff, âDo not gossip about me to your girlfriend.â
âIf you donât want me gossiping about you to my girlfriend, maybe you shouldnât spend half a match making heart eyes at her roommate whoâs now your coworker,â Rose countered, before continuing. âSo are you going to spill, or am I going to have to bug her into interrogating Ilya?â
Shane was blushing a bit. He decided honesty was the best policy with Rose. âWeâŚkinda hooked up in my apartment last night, and we rode to the airport together this morning, and to the arena, and the only reason I am riding with you and not in the car with him on the way back to the hotel is that Scott Hunter bitched at me on the phone about kayfabe,â he rambled, as he ran a nervous hand through his hair.
Rose nodded, just taking all of that information in. âAlright, well first of all, what do you mean by kinda hooked up?â
âJust hand jobs,â Shane clarified.
Rose nodded, as she parked at the hotel. âWell it seems like you really like him, Shane.â She pointed out.
Shane blushed a bit. âYeah. Maybe I do.â He said, glancing at his phone. He decided to be bold, since he had already checked in. He had his room number.
He knew Ilya had asked him to text when he was at the hotel.