Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Troy Barrett, Kip Grady

Additional Tags:

you don't need to read other fics in this series to understand this, Bottom Ilya Rozanov, but in a context sense, Drabble, harassment of the elderly(Scott Hunter), Comedy, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch Ilya Rozanov

Language:

English

Series:

Part 2 of chirpverse

Stats:

Published: 2026-03-23 Completed: 2026-04-30 Words: 2,826 Chapters: 2/2

missed opportunities

Summary

Ilya has bottomed now. He is going to make that everyone else's problem.

----

Now with part 2, in which Ilya faces the consequences of his own actions and loves it.

Chapter 1

They were doing their now traditional post-game meeting of the active queer NHL players (plus Kip, and Harris when he was on the road with the Centaurs) at the Kingfisher which Scott regularly regretted making a tradition. Perfectly proving that this regret was justified, Scott was just taking a sip of his beer when Ilya struck.

"You three must talk more about how good it is to get fucked."

Scott choked on his beer, and Kip leaned over and gave him a few pats to the back as he chuckled. Troy for his part seemed to be turning red, but had not been mid sip when Ilya decided to discuss anal. God, Rozanov was such an asshole.

Scott caught his breath, and croaked, "What?"

"Shane taught me very recently how good it is, it was quite life-changing when he-"

Shane cut in, looking red himself, "We are not talking about that here, Ilya!"

Ilya leaned his head onto Shane's shoulder, cooing, "Awww, but I am so proud of you, solnyshko! Your very first time you were so good I cry-"

"Ilya, this is not how you get me to do it again."

Ilya immediately closed his mouth, just to unfortunately open it again to return to his original topic.

"What I am saying is that you could be using this to shut up assholes on the ice! You all are missing perfect opportunity! We must fight back against homophobes, with fire!"

"Are you trying to say fight fire with fire?"

"Sure! Probably." Ilya took a long sip of his beer and regained his momentum.

"The point is your chirping is sad, and very boring. They try to make fun of us for getting dick, when we should be bragging about getting dick!"

Scott grimaced. "This is really your solution for fixing homophobia in the NHL?"

"Could be solution, or could just be fun! Could even be education! These sad men do not even know what their prostate is! They have not even met it!"

"You hadn't met yours until I introduced you recently." Shane, who had clearly had so many years of Rozanov exposure that he could just roll with this insane conversation, rolled his eyes and casually sipped at his ginger ale. Scott didn't know if he was horrified or jealous.

"Yes, and I am now convert! Speaking good word to others!" Ilya was clearly not letting this go, which was a surprise to no one.

Shane wrinkled his nose. "Ilya, last week you told the Alabama center, and this is a direct quote, 'You are Catholic, right? Getting dicked down feels very religious. I saw God last time Shane fucked me.'"

Kip was laughing so hard he was gasping for air at this point while Scott was regretting every choice that had led him to sitting at this bar with Rozanov. Well, not every choice.

Ilya smiled wistfully, "Ah, I was very proud of that one."

Shane also looked for a moment like he was regretting some choices, but the expression was ruined by the arm around Rozanov's waist and the fond look in his eyes as he looked at Ilya.

Ilya gave a quick peck to his husband's cheek and continued confidently just as Scott decided to brave taking another sip.
"My point is, I know you both do it-"

Scott choked on his beer again, that bastard was definitely doing this on purpose. "How do you know that!?"

Ilya waved a hand dismissively, "Is obvious!"

Shane looked resigned and unsurprised by Ilya's behavior, as did Troy to Scott's surprise. Scott looked over at Troy, and raised a desperate eyebrow at the other member of the table who had successfully hid being gay for a decade who was not named Hollander-Rozanov.

Troy shrugged back. "Unfortunately, he just kind of knows these things."

Ilya grinned, "Yes, yes, I am perceptive! I have gay radar."

Scott felt insane, and Kip was no help next to him as he was too busy giggling to say anything. "Gaydar does not make you able to tell if someone bottoms."

Ilya snorted and looked smug. "Maybe for you it does not."

Scott was feeling distinctly like the conversation had completely spun out of control.

Desperately, he turned to Troy again as Shane was clearly a lost cause since he had married this man and chosen not to divorce him every single day since. "You work with this everyday?"

Troy sighed, and took a long pull of his hard cider. "Unfortunately, he really does grow on you when you're trapped in close quarters with him."

"Like fungus!" Rozanov chirped.

"Ilya, no.”

Chapter 2

Chapter Notes

Chronologically, this chapter technically takes place after 'training season's over' but I didn't want to make a new fic for this short little thing. So now we have the full comedy lineup in this fic! Honestly the order really only makes a difference because of a creampie joke. How did I get here.

This is inspired by a comment on training season from ainmhithe: "the more that Shane tops the more chirping material Ilya has on the ice ironically making it seem like he is the one who bottoms most like that spreads around simply because Ilya is a competitive shit lol"

Thank you for your service, I was delighted at being given another thing to write for this au.

In hindsight, it's very obvious how this happened. In the moment however, it makes no sense.

—

“Y'know, I really would have thought it was the other way around.” Peterson says with a slimy sneer.

“Huh?” Shane was instinctively tensing, guessing that what was coming next would be something deeply homophobic or racist. It was, but not in the way he was anticipating.

“I would have thought you would be the one taking cock every night of the week, not Rozanov. Says a lot about Rozanov if you ask me.”

No one is fucking asking you anything. Have you thought about shutting your fucking mouth? Shane wants to say, but he's too stuck on trying to process the rest of what had just come out of Peterson’s mouth. Thankfully, hockey is written into Shane's nervous system in a way that bypasses all conscious thought, so when the puck drops, Shane has it under his stick and is moving down the ice before he can even word the question he really wants to ask.

—

“Ilya?”

“Yes, solynyshko?” Ilya looks up from the cookbook he was consulting. It's a rare long weekend, so Ilya has been talking about trying out new recipes in anticipation of the upcoming season in which they live off of strictly regimented meal plans. Ilya has claimed in the past that having some form of new recipe in the rotation is the only way he can maintain his sanity when it comes to Shane's strict diets, so this is sure to be a weekend filled with many dishes.

“Have you, um, I mean, did you… Uhhh,” Shane pauses, not sure what he wants to say exactly.

Ilya frowns, and puts the cookbook down. “Have I what? Is there something wrong?”

“No!” Shane starts, then pauses. “Or at least I don’t think so? I'm honestly not sure.”

“Shane…” Ilya looked a mix of concerned and endeared, “Moy lyubov, tell me what is making your face scrunch up so cute, yes? Did something happen?”

“No! Well, kinda. The Cincinnati center, he said something that was… strange?”

“Strange?” Ilya looked confused as he tried to parse out what Shane was getting at. “Strange in homophobic asshole way?”

“Well, yeah. But mostly it was… Inaccurate.”

“Inaccurate.” Ilya groaned impatiently. “Hollander, stop being scared rabbit and just tell me what he said.”

“I'm not-” Shane cut himself off, then said quickly, like he could just rip the bandaid off all in one breath, “I think people think that I'm the top and you're the bottom. Like all the time.”

Ilya's brows went up. He stared wide-eyed at Shane. Shane stared back, grimacing slightly.

A beat passed like that, then Ilya burst into hysterical cackles of laughter, his whole body shaking with the force of it.

“Ilya, don't laugh! If he thinks that then others might too.” Shane protested, trying to stay serious, but he was starting to laugh as well.

“No, no, is too funny!” Ilya choked out around his giggling. “They are looking at you, Mr. Born to Bottom, and they are assuming you are always top? You?!”

“Fuck off, it really isn't that funny!” Shane rolled his eyes but internally he agreed. Still, it wasn't that crazy. “Besides, it's not like they are completely wrong!”

“Just mostly!” Ilya cackled. Shane thinks he actually might be tearing up from the force of his laughter. Asshole.

Ilya continued, clearly trying to calm down and catch his breath, “Shane, moy lyubov, you know I love when you top, I do, you are very good at it. Make me see heaven doing it. But…”

“But?” Shane grit out.

Ilya looked at him again, then broke down into more laughter, even harder than before.

“You asshole!” Shane was laughing too, even as he swatted at Ilya's shoulder. Shane wasn’t sure if it made it better or worse that the last time he had seen Ilya this red-faced and teary-eyed was right after he had come untouched.

“I cannot help it, Shane!” Ilya wheezed, “You looked like you were going to cry when you thought you may have to do all the fucking!”

“I did not!” Ok, so he had been a bit panicked, but not THAT panicked. Shane pivoted. “This is your fault anyways! You keep talking about bottoming!”

“Oh, because I tell everyone how good my husband is at fucking me, I am at fault? I am married to hottest man in NHL, I cannot be expected to NOT brag about getting dick from him! Maybe you should tell more people how good I am at fucking you, then we would not have this problem.”

“Or maybe we just don’t talk about our sex positions publicly? Within earshot of people that put it on the internet where my mother can read it?”

“Ah, that is boring. Besides, is not as big deal as you say. Internet has much wilder things than me gloating that you are very good at being top.”

“Ilya, you tweeted a picture of a Boston creampie donut and said, ‘they need to rename this to Ottawa creampie now that Hollander is done with me.’”

“Is true! Besides, people could have assumed you were the donut!”

“Then you told that defenseman last week, ‘Prostate is like supercharging orgasm. Maybe if you supercharged you could skate as good as me.’”

Ilya snickered at his own joke like a preteen boy, then waved his hand like he was dismissing the topic. “So what if people know I like to be fucked? These people do not know we can switch? They think there is only one way for two men with same equipment to have sex?”

Shane hesitated, “I mean, that or they just really do think we would only do it that way? Like we give off that vibe, I guess?”

Ilya tried to maintain a straight face, “Yes, they look at you, Shane Hollander, and they think, ‘that gay man would never bottom.’” Ilya's lip quivered, and a small snort crept out.

“Oh come on, it's not that unbelievable!” Shane paused, “I mean it isn't, right?”

“Sweetheart.”

“Ok, fine. You don't have to say it.” Shane sighed. “I guess for straight people maybe they just see you shouting about bottoming all the time and think if there's a ‘man’ and a ‘woman' then they know which one you are.”

Ilya nodded, then looked thoughtful in a way Shane immediately distrusted. “There is way you could make them realize it is other way…”

“Ilya, I am not chirping about bottoming.”

“Shane, please!” Ilya grabbed his hands, eyes wide and sparkling with glee in mock puppy eyes. “Is my birthday soon, yes? All I want as present is to see you shut up homophobe by telling them how good I fuck you.”

“I thought all you wanted for your birthday had more to do with that link you sent me-”

“Yes, still that too! This is, ah, second most wanted thing.” Ilya recovered, puppy eyes getting more serious and deadly. “Please, Shane? I do it all the time, what could be the harm? I think we have earned this after years of listening to homophobic slurs on ice. And it is just setting record straight.” Ilya made a face. “Well, setting record gay and bisexual in switching relationship. Does not fall off tongue right, does it?”

“Roll off the tongue, baby.”

Ilya's eyes darkened at the pet name and he moved closer to Shane. “Oh, we can make things roll off my tongue. Or yours. Maybe we give you new material for chirps, yes?”

“That barely makes sense, and I never agreed to doing that, ah, Ilya…” Shane tried to protest, but it faltered as Ilya started to nibble and kiss along his neck.

“Mmm, my strong, handsome top,” Ilya purred against his neck. He stopped and hid his face against Shane, snickering, “Will you please let me try other way for once? Give me break? My ass is soooo sore-”

“Ilya!” Shane laughed and pushed Ilya away. Ilya didn't let him get far, hooking his fingers into Shane's belt loops and reeling himself back into Shane.

“You are just on me all the time!” Ilya was letting out very manly giggles as he spoke. “So much fucking, oh, it hurts to sit but I love it too much-”

Shane snorted and shut Ilya up with a kiss that quickly turned into a scramble for the bedroom.

Soon, thoughts of other hockey players, and what they may think of him and Ilya fell away, but Shane tucked the idea away for later. Ilya's birthday was coming up after all.

—

His opportunity comes a few games later, in the moments of relative quiet after the whistle is called to give an infraction to one of the defenseman for the Minnesota Rockets.

Luke Castello, the Rockets’ center, looks sidelong at Shane and says, “Didn’t think you had it in you, Hollander. You must be halfway decent to keep Rozanov on a leash attached to your dick like that. Fuckin’ disgusting how much we have to hear about it though.” He punctuates this by spitting onto the ice.

Shane grimaces, not at the bigotry but at what he needed to do next. Do it for Ilya. He told himself, then added on, and do it for all the queer hockey players who would hypothetically benefit from me chirping about getting fucked.

God, being out was so strange sometimes. Great, and unbelievably wonderful in so many ways, big and small, but strange as hell. Shane grit his teeth, squared his back, and tried to channel his husband the best he could.

“I don't know why you care so much about what happens in our bedroom, but the dick is pretty fucking great both ways actually. Since you care so much, maybe give your wife a strapon and see what happens so you can focus on your own sex life rather than ours.”

Across the ice, Shane sees Ilya's head whip around and an enormous smile lights up his husband's face. The flutter of warmth in Shane's chest at the sight is almost stronger than the heat of embarrassment he feels for his somewhat lame chirping. He honestly isn't even sure how Ilya heard him over the noise of the arena at that distance, but if his husband had a sixth sense for anything, it would be Shane talking about sex.

Castello scowls, but before he can drop gloves or chirp back, the commotion of a line change begins. Shane leaves him behind without another glance. Castello had served his purpose, he wasn't getting any more attention from Shane.

Ilya is hopping over the boards as he approaches, and he beams at Shane. “Moy lyubov, my birthday gift has come early? I will make proper menace of you yet.” Then, with a leer and loudly enough everyone on the bench can hear, “Was good start but your chirping could use some work still. Don't worry, I will help by giving you some hands-on instruction tonight. We will see what is hardest for you and start there.”

The Centaurs broke out into whistles and playful hooting. Boodram laughed and shouted, “Don't wear him out too much, Cap! We need him in good shape for playoffs!”

Ilya smiled mischievously as he skated away backwards. “You should be more worried about me! Shane is a very demanding student. He won't let you rest until he has done it perfectly.”

Shane shook his head exasperatedly, but decided he would play into the bit. After all, that was his husband out there, and Ilya was right, they had both earned the right to be publicly obsessed with each other.

He shouted after Ilya, "I've got plenty to teach you as well, Rozanov! I hope you'll be a good student for me.”

Ilya looked delighted and tilted his head down to look at Shane through his eyelashes. “Yes, sir. I will be your favorite student after tonight.”

Shane grinned at him, slightly horny but mostly just happy to be here, openly flirting with his husband as his teammates joked around him. He watched Ilya line up at face-off with a smile on his face, then he groaned as he realized something, “We are never going to convince people Ilya is actually a top, are we?”

Dykstra slapped him cheerfully on the back. “Nope, not a chance.”

Chapter End Notes

Some notes:
-Shoutout to a discord friend who actually made the line about prostates supercharging orgasms. I had to include it here.
-I love all the fics where Shane is confident with both chirping and talking about his sex life publically post-outing, but in this verse lets just assume that Shane normally leaves the chirping to his husband, who is the absolute expert at it. Therefore, Shane still has his "first day at chirp school" energy that we see with Scott, but he's picked up some things from Ilya.
-I will happily take ideas and prompts for this au, I love writing it.
-for all the bottom ilya acolytes, I have ANOTHER bottom Ilya au in the works right now >:)

Oh and a cut bit of dialogue!

”Besides, I only talk more about me getting fucked than fucking you because I know that you would hate less me talking about my hole than your hole-”
“Seriously, Ilya?”
“What? I said ‘until death do us part’ to that hole, can I not talk about it at all?”
*Shane tries to leave*
“Solynyshko?? Solnyshko, don’t leave! I am sorry I said I married your hole and not you!”