ali 🫧

Shane Hollander routinely uses sunscreen(for safety against skin cancer) and washes his face with a sensitive skin friendly soap in the shower. He uses the same bar for his entire body.

Beyond that his smooth skin is entirely coincidental. Ilya is very jealous of this. Ilya wears hair products, styles himself meticulously and has tried multiple skincare routines. None of which are giving him the supple skin he desires.

The first time Ilya goes to Shane's real apartment and not the sex condo he is outraged by the number of unused samples of skincare products, mostly because these brands are choosing to work with Shane when he knows for a fact that Shane does nothing to properly take care of his skin.

Shane's bathroom sink is barren.

Shane *enters Ilya's bathroom*: why do you have so much clutter in here

Ilya *outraged*: is not clutter Hollander we did not all climb out of womb and become world's prettiest man by accident

Shane *having no filter*: why do you bother with it if it doesn't work?

He and Shane have been falling asleep on FaceTime for months while Ilya was curled up tight around a pillow, Shane’s voice in his ear and blurred imagine on his screen as he dreamed of the warmth and smell and feel of Shane under his hands. He’d been looking forward to this for almost three months. Where the fuck was his Shane. Half asleep and frowning hard Ilya tumbles out of his bed, they are at his since it had been a home match in Boston. He scratches at the low of his stomach as he muffles a yawn and with one eye squinted stumbles towards the ensuite. The light is pushing out the bottom of the door and it makes Ilya wince, but his stomach turn hopefully that he will find his shane there.

He pushes open the door, and sees Shane there, handsome and just in sweats stood by the sink, hands under the water because of course Shane washes his hands so thoroughly after a middle of the night piss. Ilya loves him so much, the sight of his back makes his chest fucking ache. The distance between them seems ridiculous. Shane is turning toward him now, eyes half shut, voice a low rumbled sound, heavy with sleep.

“Baby? Wasswrong?” Shane asks, and he’s drying off his hands, half a step towards Ilya before Ilya is already there, arms wrapping around the low of Shane’s waist, squeezing him to his chest to tight it lifts his feet up off the tiles and makes him grunt.

Shane’s hand smooths the back of Ilya’s sleep hot curls and his arms wrap around him and he’s so warm and lovely and strong in Ilya’s arms. So real. Ilya wants to sink his teeth into him.

“Okay?” Shane asks, and he’s tucking his face into Ilya’s neck, rubbing a sleep rosey cheek into Ilya’s neck, jaw, hand massaging at his scalp.

“You were gone” Ilya grumbles back, as if Shane had committed the worst act possible. An act of warfare.

“Had to piss” Shane sighs, nips at Ilyas earlobe.

“Missed you” Ilya whispers, a tiny confession, and he feels Shane’s arms tighten around him, wrapping around his neck.

“Then take me back to bed baby” Shane asks, lets Ilya lift him up, it’s easy, a slide of hands and he’s against Ilya’s chest, hands under Shane’s thighs, walking them back to his bed.

Ilya lays shane on the bed first, climbs in and pulls the covers up up over them and lays himself overtop of Shane. “Stay” Ilya gruffs, an instruction, and bites at Shane’s chin, jaw, shoves his hand down Shane’s sweats and feels Shane’s hand in his hair, slowly combing through, over and over.

“Just like this” shane agrees, fingers at the back of Ilya’s neck. Shane’s heartbeat, strong and steady under his cheek, the smell of him, warm and slightly of sweat, of the soap he’d washed his hands with.

Yuna Hollander does not hesitate to scoop that charitable opportunity up.

They get their 12 players, one for each month. Shane gets his birth month, May. The tagline on top of his photo is: "I may be a two-time Stanley Cup winner, but I still get checked regularly for early onset heart disease."

During the following preseason, Ilya walks in on the Bears howling with laughter about something. Never one to be left out, Ilya demands to know what's so funny. He's passed a Heartthrob Against Heart Disease 2018-2019 calendar and joins in on the laughter as he flips through these idiots. That is, until he gets to May.

Shane is on the ice, a hockey stick slotted across his broad shoulders, arms draped over it. He's shirtless, only wearing gloves and his baggy hockey pants, ridden down on one side to show off the top of his underwear and the deep V just above his hips. They must have had him do pushups because his abs are more defined than usual, deep cuts across his stomach shimmering with a thin layer of sweat. His hair was messed up, like someone had run their hands through it. He was looking directly at the camera, a little smirk on his face like he knew exactly what he was doing. His biceps...

The calendar was snatched from him, which was probably a good thing, if the saliva pooling in his mouth and the tightness of his pants were anything to go by.

Whenever Flambae’s mad at him (which only happens every day) Robert will follow him around in his swivel chair on breaks. He acts completely normal about it.

“Stop spinning, I'm trying to argue!”

Robert, increasing his spinning speed everytime Flambae talks: “I’m listening. Actively.”

Will use gen z slang just to mess with Prism, because he knows she (lovingly) hates it. “Ate that up. No crumbs left. Good job, diva pop.”

There's a call recording of just her wheezing for 5 minutes.

Gives PowerPoint presentations using an Elmo or Kermit voice. whenever Coop points it out, he switches back to his usual tone.

“I don't know what you're talking about. This is just my voice. Anyway, Elmo is so proud you didn't stab anyone!”

Prank calls Sonar by using a voice impression of HIMSELF to scam him. “What a coincidence, my name is also Victor! Don't I know you from Harvard? How do you feel about vitamins?”

“Dude, that's literally what I was trying to pitch for — Ohh, you son of a bastard.”

Z-Team realizing, after the Mecha Man reveal, that- oh shit! Robert is like... a week fresh outta a several month long coma ↓ i feel like that fact really gets glossed over

and he still held his own in that bar fight IMMACULATELY, yeah, but like.. is he- good?

it can't be healthy to be working so hard so soon, right?

and maybe they forget about it for the most part, until he lore drops some absolutely insane shit bc they're all joking around and- hey! he can talk about this with them now! -> imagine with me: