Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Ilya Rozanov & Svetlana Vetrova

Characters:

Ilya Rozanov, Svetlana Vetrova

Additional Tags:

Ficlet, Mentioned Shane Hollander, Post-Episode: s01e06 The Cottage (Heated Rivalry), Fluff, Fluff and Humor, POV Ilya Rozanov, Soft Ilya Rozanov, Childhood Friends, Found Family, Good Friend Svetlana Vetrova, Mentioned Rose Landry

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-04-27 Words: 1,052 Chapters: 1/1

Svetlana Knows Everything

Summary

Ilya returns to Boston after the cottage and finds Svetlana waiting in his kitchen. With wine and vodka and ready to look him straight in the eye and ask, “So it went well then, with your Shane?”

Ilya caves and tells her everything. Because clearly she already knows. She always knows.

----

“I want him to meet you,” Ilya says.

She beams at him then, nodding, but he winces, adds, “Although maybe I didn’t do a very good job of... he’s jealous of you, I think. My fault. He might not want to meet you. He might... Ah, blyat.”

Sveta is giving him another look. Another ‘you are very stupid but I love you’ look. He waits her out.

Sveta sighs. “So you are telling me that you were here in Boston, burning down everything around you because he was dating Rose Landry. And that boy was sitting at home jealous of me.”

Notes

“He said he loves me, Sveta. He said it back.”  

Ilya would be embarrassed at the way his voice sounds saying this, if it was anyone but Sveta. He still is, a little. He can’t help but say it anyway. Needs to say it. To the one person from home who is still here to care.  

God, does she care. He fucking loves her for it.  

He had arrived home an hour ago to what he assumed would be an empty house.  

His huge, dark, oversized house. Five hours since he’d stepped out of Shane’s ugly jeep at the airport and already the longing had been coiling its way up his spine.  

No longer laced with fear and uncertainty, though. He is used to the wanting and the waiting. The need to wrap his fingers around something out of reach. But for the first time, he is waiting for something he knows he’ll get to have.  

Still, he had been dreading getting home. Had not wanted to carry even this newer, brighter type of longing back into his huge, darkened house. Limbs heavy at the thought of his too big, too silent empty rooms. 

But then Sveta had been waiting for him. In a bright lit kitchen, glass of wine in hand, leaning against the countertop.  

Svetlana, who had taken one look at his face and had known everything. 

Svetlana, who has been practicing reading him since they were twelve. Since he became someone who tried to hide. On a day like today, when he finally isn’t trying to keep it all from spilling out onto his face, she takes one look at him and knows.  

So when she smiled at him and said, “It was good then, with your Shane?” He just caved and told her everything.  

Perhaps he shouldn’t have but she already knew. Clearly she already knew. Has known for longer than he cares to think about, probably. He’d already suspected that Sveta had put the pieces together months ago. Then he cancelled his trip to Russia and disappeared for weeks, and well...She’s too clever not to guess. She knows him too well. 

Compared to plotting out exactly how he could win the cup, it must’ve been an easy puzzle to solve.  

“He said it back, Sveta” Ilya repeats again, awed that this is his life now. That this really happened. 

Sveta just smiles at him. “I knew Shane Hollander was smart.”  

Ilya laughs at that. “You always did like him better than me.”  

She ignores this and nudges him. “See, your Jane did know how lucky he was.” Sveta pushes against his shoulder, shaking him. He shoves her off, complaining too loud about how she knows everything always and must always be right, all the time. But he’s thankful. So fucking thankful and this is Sveta, so she knows that as well. Even when he’s shoving at her and trying to steal her wine glass in petty revenge.  

He relents, letting her go and stepping back to look at her. “I, um...” He rubs a hand against the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. He lets out a breath. “Thank you, Sveta. I, um, I wouldn’t have called him. That day, at the funeral, I wouldn’t have called him if you hadn’t...” 

She just gives him a look. A look that says, ‘I know, Ilya,’ and ‘of course, Ilya,’ and ‘sometimes you are very dumb, Ilya’ and ‘I love you, Ilya.’  

Then she steps forward and pulls him into a hug. Says into his shoulder, “you deserve the best, Ilya.”  

He just hugs her tighter. Its not true, of course. It isn’t true but Sveta is so good. So good to him. 

She laughs and pushes him off when he squeezes her too hard, half to break the tension and half because he means it.  

She backs up, standing against the table across from him.  Meets his eyes, face tipping into a crocked smile. “Well, maybe second best, da?” 

Ilya stares at her. Stood right there in his kitchen, smiling at him, making the joke Ilya has spent ten years making alone. Or just to Shane.  

Now here is Svetlana, making it with him.  

Her grin fades to something soft, a little shocked. She reaches out a hand and touches his cheek. Ilya realises he’s crying. 

“I want him to meet you.”  

She beams at him then, nodding, but he winces, adds, “Although maybe I didn’t do a very good job of... he’s jealous of you, I think. My fault. He might not want to meet you. He might... Ah, blyat.” 

Sveta is giving him another look. Another ‘you are very stupid but I love you’ look. He waits her out.  

“So you are telling me that you were here in Boston, burning down everything around you because he was dating Rose Landry. And that boy was sitting at home jealous of me.” 

Ilya shrugs. Because, well, what can he say to that? 

 “You talked about fucking me, didn’t you?” 

Ilya winces again, throws up his hands. “I just- I-” She’s laughing now. Clutching her wine glass and laughing at him. Ilya deflates. “Uhh, yes. Okay, yes.”  

“Idiot.” She thwacks his arm but then sighs and refills his vodka. Places it on the counter beside him and turns to face him. “So?” 

“I...I maybe fucked this up Sveta. Fuck. Sorry. I want him to meet you, to- to like you.” He shrugs, slumps against the kitchen counter behind him.  

She tsks at him, shaking her head. “Boys.” 

She takes a sip of her wine. Sets the glass down, face considering. “He is still friends with Rose?”  

Ilya nods his assent. Grimacing as he remembers again that Shane and Rose are still friends. Good friends. Texting at the cottage. Right there on the couch, while Ilya’s head is in Shane's lap. When Shane should have his fingers in Ilya’s hair, not typing out messages to Rose fucking Landry. 

“Well,” Sveta draws out the word, “if you volunteer to meet his friend Rose, then maybe he can meet me in return, da?” 

The horror must show on his face. “I-what?” 

Sveta tips her head back and laughs. Cackles, bending double, the sound filling and echoing across his empty kitchen. 

Ilya wants to hug her, so he does.