Rating:

General Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, David Hollander & Shane Hollander & Yuna Hollander

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Hayden Pike, Yuna Hollander, David Hollander

Additional Tags:

Shifter Shane Hollander, Anxious Shane Hollander, Autistic Shane Hollander, Worried Ilya Rozanov, Ilya Rozanov Takes Care of Shane Hollander, Kitsune Shifter, Good Parent David Hollander

Language:

English

Series:

Part 1 of little fox

Stats:

Published: 2026-08-26 Words: 7,490 Chapters: 1/1

lisichka

Summary

A fox. There is a fox in Shane’s pile of clothes. When the fuck did Shane get a fox?!

Except then Ilya notices that this fox has two tails.

And is looking up at him with thinly veiled fear in big brown eyes that Ilya would know anywhere.

OR: Ilya discovers Shane's secret.

Notes

This idea came out of literally nowhere one day when I was working on my cross stitch. I mentioned it on Tumblr, along with a couple of other ideas, and then someone asked for more info, and I expanded on it, and then I had to write it.

I actually finished writing this a little bit ago but as mentioned in my last story, life is kicking my ass right now so writing and editing has been hard. But I wanted to share another story because it makes me happy sharing my words with you guys and I need some happiness during this difficult time.

I was inspired to make Shane a fox/kitsune because of his Japanese heritage and thought it would be a fun connection. But because there can be tension about being Japanese, I explored that with the way Yuna handles it and her reaction to Shane ending up with this 'gift'.

I would like to make it clear: there is nothing wrong with Shane being Japanese nor is there any issue with him having this gift. He is an unreliable narrator in this. Poor Shane struggles because he puts too much on himself. Don't worry, Ilya is gonna help him accept it. David is gonna be so relieved.

(Also, according to google lisichka translates to little fox and that is so perfect for Shane.)

I hope you enjoy this story and my take on shifter!Shane. Thank you for sticking with me while I slowly post the hoard of stories I have!

EDIT: Now with an adorable cover art thanks to the lovely AraliaSunSong - find it HERE

Ilya is getting suspicious. Shane knows that. But there isn’t anything he can do.

Sure, they’re a little…more than what they were but they’re not, like, official or anything. They’re friends who fuck. Rather than rivals who fuck. And they use each other's first names. And okay Shane likes Ilya but that doesn’t mean he’s going to subject Ilya to this fucked up part of him.

“You look like shit.” Hayden declares as he flops down onto his bench next to Shane’s in the locker room. Everything is too loud for Shane, his senses having heightened slightly the longer he puts off his shift. But he can’t do it. They’re in the middle of the season and everyone is expecting greatness from the Great Shane Hollander and he just knows if he shifts, he won’t come back for a bit.

He has to push through.

Even if it’s literally hurting him to do so.

“Gee,” Shane drawls, rolling his eyes at his best friend, “Thanks, Hayd.”

“You coming down with something?” Hayden frowns, shifting into what Shane calls ‘dad-mode’. It’s clear he wants to reach up and press a hand to Shane’s forehead, check for a fever, but Hayden has known Shane long enough to not just touch him unexpectedly. “Maybe take a day or two off. Rest.”

“I’m the captain, Hayden. I can’t take a day or two.”

“You’re also a human, Shane,” Hayden uses the same tone as Shane, a bit snippy but mostly exasperated. “And you need rest.”

“I’ll rest after we win the cup.” Shane replies, zipping up his equipment bag with a finality before standing, not bothering to correct Hayden that he’s not entirely human, “See you tomorrow.” 

“Hopefully not!” Hayden calls after his back, to which Shane flips him off over his shoulder.

As Shane makes his way through the halls towards the player parking, he digs his phone out of his pocket, unsurprised to see a couple of texts from Lily.

Can we call?

I miss you :(

I can make you feel better

Hollander?

Shane?

Sighing, Shane swipes the notifications away and locks his phone, burying it back into his pocket. He knows he has to talk to Ilya at some point, that he can’t keep avoiding him forever. It’s been a couple of days since Shane texted, saying he was busy and couldn’t talk, to which Ilya had started calling and texting him so much that Shane had flipped on his Do Not Disturb.

Montreal, thankfully, isn’t scheduled to play Boston for another few weeks though, so Shane has time to figure out his shit before Ilya is in the same city.

If Shane can figure it out, that is.

Shane was six the first time he shifted.

It was on the way to a birthday party, someone else in his class, and he was terrified.

While still quite young, Shane already knew he was different. The other kids played differently, they looked at him when he tried to enforce the rules, they talked about the shape of his eyes, and no one tended to hang around Shane much.

He knew he was only invited to this party because everyone had been but his mom had insisted he go because it would be good for him.

So, Shane had kept quiet about his anxious fear around going, about how he’d end up sitting in the corner by himself while everyone else would be laughing and having fun.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Shane had tried to calm himself as his dad drove towards the house.

It wasn’t until his mom turned around to say something and instead released a soft oh! that Shane even knew something had happened.

He felt smaller, sure, but was small for his size. His body felt unlike his own, but that was normal for Shane.

It was his dad pulling over and his mom climbing out of the car only to open his door and lift him into his arms that Shane realized he was…not human.

He didn’t know what he was but his mom assured him he was okay and safe and they’d talk when they got home.

Confused but content in his mom's arms, Shane had closed his eyes and waited.

A couple hours later, he shifted back into his human body, even more confused because earlier his dad had held him up in the mirror, showing Shane what he looked like.

A little fox. Two tails. Same big brown eyes.

His mom had seemed reluctant in looking at him while he was in that form but once human again, she sat him down, let Shane curl up in her lap, and explained what had happened.

“Our family has an…” Yuna pauses, clearly hesitating. She looks towards David, a pleading look in her eyes that Shane can’t quite understand because of how young he is.

“You have a gift.” David says gently, moving to sit beside where Shane is curled up in his mother’s lap.

“More like an inconvenience.” Yuna mutters before smiling as she brushes her fingers through Shane’s hair. “Do you know what you were earlier?”

“A fox!” Shane replies, feeling proud. He’d been learning animals in his books and he remembers that one.

“Good job, honey.” Yuna comments, a warm smile on her face. “But not quite…”

Shane feels himself frown; he’s right but not? That doesn’t make sense.

“You were what is known as a kitsune.” Yuna clarifies, not that it helps Shane.

“They’re a mythical creature from Japan.” David reaches over, tapping Shane lightly on the nose, making him giggle. “You remember that mommy’s mom is from Japan?”

Shane nods, “Yes.” He doesn’t remember much about his baaba but he sort of does. “What is mythical?”

“Made up.” David explains, “It’s made from stories.”

“Oh.” Shane frowns again, “But I wasn’t made up.”

“No, sweetie, you weren’t. You were real. You are real.” Yuna squeezes him, “And this is real. I’m so sorry.”

Shane doesn’t understand why she’s apologizing but he listens as his parents explain.

Apparently, Yuna’s family was given this gift many, many, many years ago. And so they can shift into the form of a kitsune. There is no rhyme or reason for it, but there are things to remember about this ability.

The first and most important one that Shane is taught is to never tell anyone. It must be kept a secret. David didn’t find out until he was married to Yuna for a few months, apparently.

The second thing he’s taught is that he should not deny himself from shifting. It can lead to him getting sick and it will hurt him. He will be in literal pain that will increase the longer he puts it off. He needs to shift at least once a month to avoid that.

High emotions, such as anxiety and fear, can trigger an unwanted shift and can make shifting back difficult, so he should be careful about when he does shift. Shane tries to not think too hard about how, even at six, he’s already more anxious than most. He’s forced to think about it a lot more as he grows up.

And for a while, Shane actually enjoys shifting.

His mom never really wants to talk about it when he tries to ask questions, and she usually makes herself scarce when Shane shifts, but his dad reassures him it has nothing to do with Shane. Apparently Yuna has complicated feelings towards this so-called gift her family has. It isn’t until many years later that Shane finds out that night, after his first shift, she’d cried in his dad’s arms. She had been hopeful the gift had skipped him, only to have those hopes dashed.

But as the years go by, and the secret weighs on Shane, combined with the way even his own mom won’t acknowledge it, Shane comes to resent his fox-like self. The growing anxiety that came with being good at hockey meant it was more of an inconvenience too. He had to lock down his own emotions tightly to prevent a shift from happening. He gained the title of ‘robot’ amongst his peers because of it. He was further isolated because of this gift that wasn’t really a gift.

The first time Shane put off shifting, he learned how bad the consequences were.

He ended up collapsing during hockey practice, developing a high fever that left him delirious. He remembers seeing another kitsune, but puts it to his fever, because his mom refuses to shift around him and so he has no idea what her kitsune looks like. Shane had finally been able to shift a couple days later, his bone protesting and yet pleased when he finally did, the pain disappearing in a flash, leaving him desperate to stay in his smaller form.

It had taken a week before his dad was able to coax him back into his human form and Shane had been terrified, having felt the pull to stay as a kitsune stronger than ever. He also never wanted to experience the exhaustion, pain, and agony he’d been in prior to shifting, but he was scared to ever shift back again.

Eventually, Shane found a balance that worked. He knew how far he could push himself before it became too much of a risk. He knew what excuses worked to buy himself a few days where he could lock himself away and shift into the smaller form. He learned to never talk about it with his mom, lest he upset her. His dad seemed sad that Shane never talked about it anymore, but he never pushed.

Everything was going fine. It was working.

And then Ilya fucking Rozanov came into Shane’s life.

Shane closes the door to his apartment behind him and leans back against it, releasing a long breath.

There’s an ache in his bones, one that runs deep and thrums steadily no matter what stretches he does. Exhaustion weighs heavily on him and no amount of sleep will do anything to alleviate it. And inside of his chest is a painful tug, growing more taut each day that he puts off shifting. It brought him to his knees last night, and Shane had crumbled to the floor of his bathroom, gasping for air as he waited for it to pass.

Practice hadn’t been easy but somehow, Shane had managed to push through. Now that he was home, he could curl up in bed and try to pretend that none of this is happening before he starts all over again tomorrow.

There’s an easy fix to all of this, of course. Shifting would make everything go away. It would clear the fog in his head as well, ease the anxiety coursing through his veins, and settle his skin on his body.

But he knows that if he shifts, there’s a very real chance he won’t be able to shift back. Not for a good few days, at least, and he’s got a game the day after tomorrow.. There’s a photoshoot the day after that he’s meant to be at. And there may be an interview sometime as well but remembering is too difficult.

Pushing himself off of his door takes great effort, but Shane manages to drag his feet until he reaches the couch. He falls face first down onto it, groaning in pain as the fire spreads across his limbs. He doesn’t bother to move and reposition though, knowing that nothing will make a difference.

In his pocket, his phone buzzes with a new text. Even before he’s able to slide it out to look at the screen, Shane knows who it’ll be.

Sure enough, it’s Ilya, asking if they can talk again. Shane closes his eyes tightly as tears threaten to fall and he drops his phone onto the floor next to the couch, the loud thunk making him wince as a headache makes itself known in his head. Reaching blindly for the blanket he keeps on the back of his couch, Shane tugs it over himself and tries to fall asleep, hoping for a brief escape from the agony he’s currently existing in.

Shane shifted quite a bit in the beginning of his not-relationship with Ilya, back when he was still only Rozanov. The anxiety and fear of being caught, of struggling with accepting that Ilya is a man and not a woman, that Shane actually enjoyed and wanted it, made life pretty difficult for Shane. Often, he would spend his nights in his smaller, furrier form. He didn’t actively choose to do it, he would be standing there on two feet one second and then he’d be on four feet the next.

A bit of an inconvenience, really.

As things progressed, Shane was able to get a handle on things. He was able to settle back into his normal routine, slightly adjusted to accommodate the hook ups with Rozanov because Shane had accepted that that was now a part of his life and he actually didn’t mind that.

There was never a risk of shifting around Ilya though, because Shane felt calm and settled whenever they were together. It was the after that usually triggered him.

Even when Shane realized that he might like Ilya a little more than he probably should, there hadn’t been any spike in anxiety or fear. Maybe because he knew there was never a reality where they could be more than this. Either way, Shane was able to continue on as is.

Because they see each other so little though, it’s made it easier to hide when things get rough for Shane. On the ice, Shane has his helmet and being constantly on the move to hide the bags under his eyes and grimaces. The ones Ilya does catch can be put to a rough hit. The same with their hook ups after the games they share – Shane pretends he took a bad hit or pulled something while training. Ilya’s always believed it.

Although, Shane has never let it get quite this bad. Nor has Ilya cared so much about Shane before. Which has caused some new issues. Like the fact that he’s now suspicious of Shane and being more persistent about checking in, wanting to talk to Shane and see him even if it’s just through a tiny phone screen.

Honestly, if Shane wasn’t fighting for his life, he’d probably find it adorable.

He can’t though. Because Ilya cannot know about this stupid little gift that is really more of a curse.

This means, ultimately, that Shane has to keep suffering in silence, completely alone.

Ilya knows he’s insane for what he’s doing. It’s showing too much of what exists inside of him. But he has to do this.

Because it’s Shane fucking Hollander, who has apparently become Ilya’s kryptonite or whatever the fuck it is. It’s either that or he’s possessed. Those are the only two reasons he can reason why he’s about thirty minutes away from Shane’s apartment in Montreal.

Turns out, the five hour drive between them isn’t that bad when you’re wondering what exactly it is your fuck buddy who you sort of maybe potentially possible love is hiding from you because he looks like he’s withering away and is currently avoiding any and all communication from you.

That makes the trip go very fast. Even for Ilya, who is known to have a little bit of a lead foot.

He had debated, briefly, flying, because driving for five hours seems like a lot, but ultimately decided against it because then there’d be eyes on him and people sneaking cameras and he didn’t have the mental capacity to create a believable lie as to why he’s going to the city his ‘rival’ lives in when they don’t have a game scheduled.

Ilya also cannot let whatever is going on continue because there is something in his chest telling him that whatever is going on with Shane is wrong and he needs Ilya.

Hence why he’s now twenty minutes away.

No one knows. Ilya sent a text to his coach saying he has food poisoning and he’s out for a couple days, told Marlow to fuck off, said a silent prayer that Svetlana is currently elsewhere, and started driving. No one needs to know what Ilya is doing.

Not even Shane.

Not that Ilya hadn’t tried to contact him. Again. And had his attempts ignored. Again.

The worry had only grown in Ilya’s chest because of that.

Through the years of hooking up with Shane and letting it turn into whatever it’s now become, Ilya has actually learned some things about the man he’s grown fond of.

Like, for instance; the fact that Shane gets physically uncomfortable if he leaves a message unanswered for too long. Sure, he’ll spiral if someone leaves him unanswered for too long (that made Ilya feel even worse when he thought about the time around Sochi) but he doesn’t get antsy or anything. It’s the fact that Shane is not getting back to someone that is the issue.

So if he’s not answering Ilya’s messages, but definitely getting them even if the read receipts are off, then there has to be something wrong with Shane.

Plus there’s the deep, dark bags under Shane’s eyes. The brown that is usually sparking with something both challenging and playful on the ice has been hollow and distant. The grimaces of pain Ilya has caught and let Shane explain off as a bruise or hit that didn’t do as much damage as he claims have also been concerning. And the way Shane has drawn further and further away from Ilya, even as Ilya has been open with his reaching for more and more.

Ilya Rozanov knows Shane Hollander.

And he knows something is wrong.

Parking in front of Shane’s apartment building, Ilya decides that tonight is the night he finds out what that something is. Then he can fix it and Shane.

When Shane fails to answer the buzzer, the phone calls, and then the texts that Ilya sends, Ilya uses the code he knows but hasn’t actually used yet, letting himself into the quiet apartment.

Sitting beside the door is Shane’s equipment bag, left on the floor untouched, and that is an immediate warning sign for Ilya. Because the Shane he knows would not leave his sweaty clothes sitting in a bag, especially not at the front door.

Moving forward cautiously, Ilya operates off of the glow of the one lamp from the living room along with the fact that he memorized the layout of this place the first time he was in here, fearful of never being allowed back and wanting it for his memories.

There is zero sign of Shane being home, except for the bag Ilya noticed when he entered. The kitchen is immaculate, but Ilya has learned the untouched clean versus Shane cleaning as he goes. This is definitely the former rather than the latter.

Stopping at the back of the couch, Ilya looks around with a frown. He can’t explain it, but it doesn’t even feel like Shane is here. Panic crashes over Ilya; did someone come in and take Shane? Is he missing and no one knows except Ilya because he was insane and drove from Boston to Montreal on a fucking whim?

Before the panic can overtake every rational though in Ilya’s head, movement from below has him pausing, looking at the couch. There’s a pile of clothes there. Shane’s clothes. Except they’re in a small pile of sorts, sitting wrinkled instead of folded neatly.

What the actual fuck is going on.

Because Shane, even when they’re about to fuck will stop and fold his clothes. Ilya thinks his panic is completely justified at this point because either someone stole Shane or fucking body swapped with him and is doing a really shitty job at playing him.

The clothes shift once more, reminding Ilya that something had dragged his attention downwards, and then there’s a small creature squirming its way out from under the hoodie.

A fox. There is a fox in Shane’s pile of clothes. When the fuck did Shane get a fox?!

Except then Ilya notices that this fox has two tails.

And is looking up at him with thinly veiled fear in big brown eyes that Ilya would know anywhere.

“Hollander?” Ilya whispers, not quite believing what he’s seeing but knowing without a doubt that this creature, this fox of sorts, is indeed Shane.

And if there had been any doubt, it’s washed away when the fox squeaks, jumps off the couch, and darts towards the stairs.

Yup.

Definitely Shane.

Ilya turns, sinks to the ground right there, back to the couch, and stares unseeingly across the still dim apartment.

“What. The. Fuck.”

Ilya only sits there for a few minutes before he follows that tug inside of his chest and climbs the stairs towards the bedroom. Upon entering, he goes straight for the bed and lowers himself onto the floor until he’s laying on his stomach, head cradled by his arms.

There, towards the head of the bed and in the shadows, Ilya can make out a pair of eyes peering back at him. Ilya knew that Shane would run and hide up here, although he doesn’t linger too long on that thought right now. First, he needs to get Shane to come out from under the bed, and then Ilya needs to figure out why the fuck Shane is not a human, and then finally he needs to sort of have a moment because the brief look he had at the furry version of Shane was incredibly cute and Ilya wants to coo over him.

Shane will hate it. Ilya can’t wait.

“Is okay, Hollander.” Ilya says softly, stretching out one to reach under the bed. He’s nowhere near Shane but he figures it can’t hurt to offer a hand to the clearly terrified animal. “It is only me. You are safe, yes?”

Unsurprisingly, the creature that is Shane doesn’t move. Honestly, Ilya would have been surprised if Shane had moved immediately. All this is doing currently is reassuring Ilya, because he knows how to handle a scared Shane. He spent years dealing with this before Shane finally got comfortable with Ilya.

“You can stay under here if you want,” Ilya continues, meeting the stare from the fox with unwavering steadiness, “But it is dusty, no? I know you do not like dust. And if you come out, I can pet and cuddle you. Both things I know you like.”

The creature huffs out a breath through its nose, clearly displeased. Ilya simply laughs.

“Yes, yes, I know, Hollander, but is true. You do like it.”

If foxes – because Ilya doesn’t know what else to call this creature right now, even if foxes do not have two tails – could give the middle finger, then Ilya would be receiving that right now.

“I am not going to say anything, by the way.” Ilya continues, like this is a normal night with Shane. “I think I have proven that in the many years of us doing this, hm?” That earns him a squirm from the fox, the small form inching closer. “And I guess you are wondering why I am here, because I do not think you would be in this state if you knew I was coming.” Ilya pauses, frowning, “Unless some evil witch cursed you and this is something new to you too.”

Another huff through the tiny little nose as the fox inches even closer. So, not a curse. Something pre-existing. Interesting.

“But I was worried, Shane,” Ilya’s voice is softer now, allowing his emotions to seep out. “You have not been yourself as of late. I wanted to check on you. I needed to.”

The fox is close enough that its nose brushes the tips of Ilya’s fingers. He doesn’t move, letting Shane do whatever he needs to do.

“You were fading away. I did not like it. So I drove from Boston to here. To come see you. And now you are hiding under a bed.” Ilya clicks his tongue, “Very rude, Hollander. I thought you were a better host.”

A small bite to his finger has Ilya yelping and tugging his hand towards his body. The fox wiggles out from the side of the bed, peering carefully at Ilya as he inspects his finger.

“Well. Good to know you bite in any form.” Ilya mumbles, sitting up and crossing his legs. “Come here.” He pats his knee. Shane the fox keeps eyeing him up. Ilya rolls his eyes and pats his knee once more, “Shane, come here already.”

The fox also rolls his eyes – which is quite an adorable sight, in Ilya’s opinion - but it does slink over, pausing in front of Ilya, ears flattened against its head. Shane is still scared, which bothers Ilya. Shane shouldn’t be scared. Not of him.

Ilya reaches out, keeping his movements slow, and then scoops Shane up, cradling him in his arms against his chest. Shane is tense for approximately five seconds before turning to mush and burrowing into Ilya’s arm, his nose rubbing against Ilya’s neck.

Chuckling, Ilya brushes his fingers along the dark fur that is the same colour of Shane’s hair when he’s human, “There. That is better, hm?”

Ilya waits a few minutes until he knows that Shane is calm in his arms before he decides to start asking simple questions, ones that Shane can answer even in this animal form.

“Are you dealing with some angry fan who has cursed you?”

Shane’s little fox head pops up, brown eyes glaring at him and looking so incredibly adorable that Ilya is unable to stop himself from ducking down and kissing the top of Shane’s head.

“Okay, not cursed. So, I do not need to call someone? Like Pike or your mother?”

Not that Ilya knows how exactly that call would go. Pike hates him and Yuna Hollander hates him even more because she thinks of him as nothing more than her son’s rival. Ilya doesn’t think calling her up and explaining that he found her only son is currently a fox with two tails, and oh why is he here? Because Shane had been avoiding Ilya and it made Ilya worry and that would open a whole other thing that Ilya doesn’t want to deal with right now.

Dragging himself out of his thoughts, Ilya notices that Shane’s ears have flattened back against his head once more, his small body somehow smaller.

“Hey, lisichka, what is wrong?” Ilya rubs the tip of one of Shane’s soft ears gently, “I will not call anyone. Not if you do not want. Okay?”

Shane closes his eyes, leaning into the touch, a small noise escaping him. Ilya wants to know if that’s a happy or sad noise. He wants to learn all of them.

“I only ask because I want you to be okay. So if you need someone—oh!” Ilya laughs as he suddenly has a fox burrowing under his shirt, the fur soft against his bare torso. “I see. You only want me, hm?” Shane doesn’t give any answer of sorts but Ilya is fine with that, so long as Shane is happy. It’s kind of cute, how he’s small enough to fit under Ilya’s shirt.

Wrapping his arm around the furry lump hiding away, Ilya stands up from the floor and instead climbs onto the bed, messing up Shane’s neatly made sheets. Leaning back against the pile of pillows, Ilya finds a position that allows Shane to stay comfortably against his stomach and chest but frees Ilya’s arms up. He tugs the collar of his shirt up enough to spot a pair of eyes blinking shyly at him.

“Comfortable?” Ilya smiles, “Is okay. You stay as long as you want. It will be just me and you.” 

They make it about an hour before Ilya’s stomach rumbles and it has Shane wiggling out from under Ilya’s shirt, resting his smaller body on Ilya’s lap to glare up at him.

“Do not give me that look, lisichka,” Ilya says with a click of his tongue, “This is your fault.”

The glare remains. Ilya laughs and reaches for his phone, ready to order some food.

He’d skipped breakfast that morning, too busy worrying about Shane and what was going on. The bags under Shane’s eyes and sluggish movements on the ice were very concerning, and Ilya had wondered why Montreal hadn’t pulled him from the games. But from what Ilya has been able to learn from Shane about his team, Montreal is not anything like Boston. They are not as caring. A shame, really, but not something to linger on then. Ilya had then made the decision to simply drive to Montreal and he’d been on such a one-track focused mission he hadn't stopped except to get some gas. There’s been too much worry and concern curling tightly in his stomach to even consider eating. And then to arrive here and find Shane not only okay but as an animal?! Yeah, food had been the last thing on Ilya’s mind.

His body apparently decided that it was done waiting though and demanded food. Now.

“If I order fries,” Ilya asks as he adds to his growing McDonald’s order, “will you eat them? I’m not sure how calories work when you are a fox.”

Shane darts forward, nips Ilya on the hand and then retreats to the end of the bed, curling up in a tight ball, eyes barely visibly over the two fluffy tails.

“Even as fox, you managed to criticize me for eating.” Ilya shakes his head; a fond smile on his face, “How predictable, Hollander.” He adds a small additional fry anyways, wanting to get Shane to eat something. It’s clear that Shane’s restrictive eating has been even worse as of late. With the food order and an estimated arrival time given, Ilya drops the phone onto the bed and curls up sideways with a pillow, looking down at the small creature he’s currently sharing a bed with.

He has plenty of questions. Ones that Ilya is hopeful Shane will answer once he has access to words again. But it bothers Ilya, that this was clearly something hurting Shane. And that it was something he had to hide from Ilya for so long.

Not that Ilya holds it against Shane; he doesn’t think there’s an easy way to explain to your…situationship that you turn into a fox with two tails.

Frowning, Ilya reaches for his phone once more and opens up Google. It only takes a short search for him to find what he’s looking for.

“Kitsune.” He says carefully, the English version of the Japanese word new for his tongue. Shane’s one ear flickers, the only acknowledgment from him. “That is what you are, hm? A fox of sorts but also not.” Ilya hums, locking the phone and leaving it facedown on the blanket. He tucks his hands back under his head, gazing at the kitsune. “Regardless, you are cute.”

Shane’s tails shift to cover his face and Ilya just knows that’s the fox’s version of blushing.

Adorable.

They move to the living room once Ilya’s food arrives. Even Ilya knows better than to test Shane by eating in his bed. So instead, they settle onto the couch together, where Ilya scatters some fries on a napkin, pretending to not watch from the corner of his eye as Shane sniffs them before sneaking them into his mouth quickly.

Fries may not be a part of Shane’s regular diet, but Ilya thinks that being a kitsune can provide an exception. That and Ilya doesn’t know what is actually safe for Shane to eat in this state. He adds it to the list of questions he’s compiling on his phone in his notes app, wanting to ensure he learns as much as he can to help Shane in the future. Because Ilya doesn’t want Shane to go back to hiding this, especially if it’s going to cause him as much harm as it did these last few weeks.

Watching Shane wither away slowly had been hard for Ilya – harder than he’d like to admit considering things with Shane are still teetering between casual and not. He’s determined to not let this happen again though.

After cleaning up, Ilya tells Shane he’s going to shower, the fox trailing after him, tails twitching. Shane doesn’t join Ilya in the shower, probably not wanting to get his fur wet and leaving him in an uncomfortable sensory overload, but he does sit on the counter, watching Ilya with those big brown eyes.

Even though Shane obviously can’t talk back – something Ilya does tease him about – Ilya keeps up a steady chatter with his companion. It isn’t like Ilya isn’t used to Shane being the quieter of the two. Unless they find a specific topic that Shane has a high interest in, usually hockey related, or if Ilya really gets him going in bed, Shane tends to lean towards being quiet. It’s never been an issue with Ilya though, at least once he learned that this is simply what Shane is like and doesn’t mean he’s silently judging Ilya.

Or, well, he does occasionally judge Ilya, but he comes clean about it, and says it with such bluntness that it only makes Ilya laugh and then pull Shane in for a kiss. He adores the bitchy, judgy side of Shane as much as he adores the quiet, content side of Shane.

A man of many sides. Ones that only Ilya seems to be privy too. Including the one where he turns into an actual fox. Or, well, a kitsune.

After tugging on a pair of Shane’s boxers, Ilya falls back into the bed, opening his arms in a welcome invitation for the kitsune. Ilya does miss the bulk of Shane as the furry little creature settles on his chest, a small purring sound coming from its own chest, but he likes that he gets to hold Shane in his arms like this and not worry about it appearing to be too much. Ilya also likes that Shane didn’t remain hidden away once Ilya had shown up and discovered this new side of him.

It would have been easy enough for Shane to do with his much smaller form, and honestly, Ilya wouldn’t have blamed him. He’d have probably tried to coax Shane out a few times through the night but otherwise have left him be, settling onto the floor near wherever Shane would have hidden for the night.

But Shane hadn’t hidden away. He’d let Ilya coax him out, let him be held by Ilya, let him be fed fries by Ilya, and now was letting himself be held in Ilya’s arms in his bed.

He was trusting Ilya with something so big and heavy and Ilya feels nothing but gratitude for that shy, awkward boy with freckles who had walked up to him that one cold day in Regina.

“Goodnight, lisichka.” Ilya murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of Shane’s soft, furry head.

A small chirp-like noise comes from the kitsune and it’s the last thing Ilya registers before he drifts off to sleep.

Shane wakes up in his normal, human body. On top of Ilya Rozanov. Completely naked.

And while Shane has, obviously, been around Ilya naked plenty of times before, this time feels vastly different. Probably why he makes a sound that can only be described as a squeak before he’s flailing his way off of Ilya, accidentally kneeing him somewhere on his body judging by the groan that signals Ilya’s wakefulness, and then Shane is also falling off of the bed and hitting the floor with an audible oomph.

Deciding that this is where he now lives, Shane stays there, bringing his hands up to cover his heated face.

“Hollander,” Ilya wheezes from somewhere above him, “there are much nicer ways to wake someone up in the morning.”

“Sorry.” Shane replies, voice muffled behind his hands.

“I see you are you again.”

Oh god.

“Oh god.”

“Hm, no, just Ilya.” There’s a finger poking at his, still incredibly naked, thigh, “Look at me.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Is it because you are naked? Nothing I have not seen before. Makes up for knee to kidney, actually.”

“Fuck off. Please.”

“Hm, no.” There’s another poke. “Hollander. Look at me.”

“Nope.”

A sigh. A poke, this one hard enough to make Shane’s foot kick up. “Shane.”

The use of his first name has him lowering his hands, finding Ilya leaning over the edge of the bed. His curls are an absolute mess and there’s stubble on his jaw, but his hazel eyes are kind and his smile is warm.

“Hi.” Shane says, shifting on the floor awkwardly, “Can…can I have a blanket? Or a pillow?”

“Oh my god, Hollander, you are so boring.” Ilya replies, rolling his eyes even as he tugs one of the blankets free and drops it onto Shane, who immediately wraps it around himself while remaining on the floor. Sighing once more, Ilya climbs off of the bed only to settle on the floor beside Shane. It makes Shane blink.

“What are you doing?”

“You were not getting up to join me. So I came to join you.”

“I…” Shane closes his mouth, at a loss for words. First Ilya drove from Boston to Montreal because he was worried, and now he’s just laying on the floor because Shane is too much of an awkward person to face the man that he has feelings for because said man discovered he turns into a fucking kitsune?!

Okay. cool. Shane isn’t freaking out at all.

The featherlight touch of fingertips to the thin skin under his eyes makes Shane jump but he stills himself instantly, allowing Ilya to continue his tracing.

“You look better today. Last night helped then?”

“Y-yeah.” Shane holds himself carefully, not wanting to have the touching stop. But apparently Ilya has no intentions of going anywhere because he lowers his hand until it can curl around Shane’s waist and tug him closer. Shane goes easily.

“Good.” Ilya kisses Shane’s temple, “You were looking like shit.”

“Fuck you.” Shane scoffs, shoving at Ilya’s shoulder, only to grab onto it so he doesn’t move. “You came to check on me.”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“Do not make it a habit.”

Shane wrinkles his nose, “It sort of is?”

Ilya sighs, again, but heavier. “Of course it is. What was all of last night even about? You turn into cute little fox?”

“A kitsune.”

“Yes, yes,” Ilya waves his hand, fingers landing back against Shane’s waist, under the blanket that he’s nudged down. His other arm is curled under his head. “Tell me.”

“I mean,” Shane shrugs, turning further into Ilya, tucking his face towards Ilya’s chest and playing with the golden cross sitting there, “That’s it. I can shift into one.”

“Because that is very normal.”

“For my family, yeah.”

“Hm.”

“It’s from my mom’s side. Dad can’t do it.”

“Oddly, makes sense.” Ilya’s fingers trace absent circles into the bare skin of Shane’s hip, “Why were you sick?”

“Because I wasn’t shifting.” Shane admits into his hiding spot against Ilya’s collarbone. “I should do it more often than I do, to help, but…but I don’t.”

He can practically feel Ilya’s frown, “Why?”

Why, indeed.

A complicated answer that is actually a lot simpler than Shane would like to admit.

He’s never talked this freely about his family’s curse of a gift. Even within his own family, his mom and dad being the only two people to know that he can do what he does, they don’t talk about it. Shane used to, with his dad, when he was younger. His mom had simply avoided being around him when he shifted and pretended he hadn’t spoken when little Shane would ask anything about it.

It didn’t take long for Shane to realize and learn that the topic was off limits with her.

His dad never shut him down, although he never exactly encouraged Shane to talk about it either, clearly trying to appease his wife and son equally. He did, however, encourage Shane to keep up with regularly shifting, reminding him why it was dangerous not to.

Yet as the years went on and Shane got older, he completely stopped talking about the family secret. Brushed off his dad if he asked about Shane’s shifting schedule. And he definitely never mentioned it around his mom.

(Although, once, when Shane wasn’t quite yet a teen, he’d had a moment of courage when he had been up too late watching an olympic hockey game with his dad. He asked why his mom never looked at him when he was a kitsune, why she avoided talking about it. Shane’s dad had gotten this sad expression on his face, not quite able to look Shane in the eye. His dad hadn’t really answered, only said it was complicated but that his mom didn’t love him any less. That last part had been hard for Shane, and he had to remind himself of it over the years as he tucked this part of him further and further down inside of him. To this day, he still doesn’t know what it is about them shifting into kitsunes that makes his mom close down. Shane misses the days when he used to find it cool and exciting.)

“I just don’t.” Shane answers when the silence lingers a bit too long and it’s clear Ilya will outwait him until he says something. “I don’t know why.”

Ilya doesn’t push him on it, accepts the answer with another kiss to the top of his head. Moments like this, Shane thinks that Ilya’s feelings for him are stronger than he likes to believe as well. Not that Shane is going to say anything and risk losing this.

“Does it hurt?”

“The shifting?” Shane shakes his head, fidgeting with the golden cross still, “No. I don’t notice it.”

“The not shifting?”

“I…yeah.”

“Thought so.” Shane makes a questioning noise at that, so Ilya adds: “You moved like you were hurting.”

“You know what I look like when I’m hurting.” It’s not quite a question but also not a statement. A fact uttered in disbelief, maybe?

“I do.”

“Oh.”

Another kiss to the top of his head but no more words spoken.

Shane lets the quiet stretch out for an extra minute before he breaks it.

“Does it bother you? Or freak you out?” Are you going to leave?

Ilya is shaking his head, chin moving along Shane’s own head, before he finishes speaking. “No. None of that. I was surprised, yes, because, well…”

“I get that.”

“But I was more worried. I did not want there to be something wrong with you.”

Shane lifts himself up onto one elbow, the hand that had been playing with the cross now resting on Ilya’s chest, “There is something wrong with me.”

Ilya’s brows draw together, confusion scrunching up his face, “What?”

“It isn’t normal to turn into a fucking fox, Ilya.”

“Maybe,” Ilya shrugs, “But that does not make it wrong.”

Shane opens his mouth to protest, yet the words die on his tongue. His dad has, obviously, told him countless times there’s nothing wrong with Shane having this ability. But of course he’d say that. He’s a dad!

This is the first time someone outside of Shane’s family knows. The first time someone else has said those words to him. And, much like everything else Ilya has said to Shane over the years, this one matters to him.

Ilya pulls Shane back down onto him and Shane goes easily, feeling a bit dumb and stunned.

“There is nothing wrong with you, Shane.” Ilya repeats, voice low but firm.

“Okay.”

“And besides, you are quite cute as little fox. I always thought you were cute little kitten, but fox is much better.”

“You’re such an asshole.” Shane states with a laugh, meaning the words he say are way more fond than not.

“Mm, maybe. But I know your secret now, so you have to keep me around.”

Blushing, Shane snuggles closer to Ilya, “I sort of planned to, regardless.”

“Good plan.” Ilya hums, “And also good plan? Not going so long between shifts.”

“I was fine.”

“Liar. You will shift more often. Because I want my lisichka. And maybe I do not want you to be like you were before shift.”

Shane wouldn’t mind not having to end up in that much pain again too.

“Fine. Maybe. We’ll talk about it.”

Once again, he can practically hear the smile on Ilya’s face. “Okay.”

Turning his head to hide his own smile, Shane relaxes into Ilya’s body.

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Cover Design for Lisichka by Tizniz by AraliaSunSong