Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Miles (Heated Rivalry)

Additional Tags:

the sex happens offscreen, Phone Call, Love Realization, Feelings Realization, Soft, Pining, Light Angst, Casual Sex, Implied/Referenced Sex, Men Crying, Developing Relationship, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Angst with a Hopeful Ending

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-01-18 Words: 2,722 Chapters: 1/1

the song’s out of key again

Summary

Shane almost misses the stench of a cigarette beside him after sex.

Shane has never smoked a cigarette in his life, but right now he’s craving the smell. Craving the specific ones Ilya smokes. It’s pathetic.

Shane is sitting up against his headboard, but he’s not alone in bed. Miles, Rose’s actor friend, lays next to him, eyes closed as he relaxes in the afterglow. For some reason, Shane doesn’t feel much of an afterglow himself.

After Rose breaks up with Shane, he sleeps with Miles, but all he can think about afterwards is Ilya.

Notes

Title from My Moon My Man by Feist

Thank you to HopelessScribe and phoenix_ascended for betaing, appreciate y’all!

I see Shane as probably demisexual in this fic but it's not referenced directly.

Shane almost misses the stench of a cigarette beside him after sex.

Shane has never smoked a cigarette in his life, but right now he’s craving the smell. Craving the specific ones Ilya smokes. It’s pathetic.

Shane is sitting up against his headboard, but he’s not alone in bed. Miles, Rose’s actor friend, lays next to him, eyes closed as he relaxes in the afterglow. For some reason, Shane doesn’t feel much of an afterglow himself. 

“That was good,” Miles says, his hand gently coming to Shane’s thigh. Despite how soft the touch is, Shane has to hold himself firm so he doesn’t jump. “Did you feel good?”

Shane takes a second, because he doesn’t know how to respond. Everything they’d done had felt good. On a physical level, it was all good, and pleasurable, and nothing had felt bad. So, despite the weird, tight feeling in his stomach, he nods and puts on a smile. 

“Yeah,” he says. It’s not a lie, he tells himself. He can see a crease in Miles’ brow and he tries to make the smile more natural, his voice a little softer. “Yeah, you made me feel good.” He reaches down and even puts his hand over Miles’, on his thigh. “It was good.”

Miles smiles, seemingly convinced, and Shane just tries to stay relaxed. He holds it together, or at least tries his best to. He holds it together when Miles goes to take a shower, and Shane folds himself back into his clothes. And he keeps telling himself to act normal. Miles hadn’t done anything wrong, or bad, or ungentle. He was a perfect gentleman, great in bed, and a hot guy. It had been good, it really had. So Shane doesn’t know why he feels like he’s about to cry. 

Shane keeps himself together but doesn’t talk much as Miles comes out of the bathroom and gets dressed and collects his things. He smiles at him as he heads towards the door, and Miles gives him a look. He’s not buying it. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Miles asks, not yet in his shoes. Shane’s smile drops when he realises it’s not working. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Shane is quick to shake his head. This he can honestly deny. “No, not at all. You were great, really.” He doesn’t want Miles thinking he did anything wrong. “Just thinking about something.”

Miles still looks worried, reaching forward and squeezing his arm. “Do you want me to stay? I’m happy to.”

Shane shakes his head. “No, that’s okay. I’m… it’s not really something I can talk about, right now. If that makes sense.”

Miles nods once, and smiles gently. “Well, please let me know if that changes. It’s been a pleasure, Shane.”

Patting his arm once more, Miles puts on shoes and leaves. Shane sinks down onto his couch and puts his head in his hands.

Rose had broken up with him very amicably, respectfully, and reasonably, just a week ago. Since then, Shane’s finger had led him back to that text chat with Lily over and over. But Rozanov had just been in Montreal; they wouldn’t be together in the same place for weeks. And besides that, Shane didn’t want to deal with what happened last time they were together. He still feels bad for leaving, and he doesn’t know how to talk about why he’d reacted that way.

But after his conversation with Rose, Shane had to grapple with the concept of being gay. 100% gay. He knows she was right, that he isn’t bi, even if it would be a lot easier if he were. He’d really tried to be into Rose, and while he did like being with her, in some ways, he knows he can’t make himself be attracted to her, not in the way he would need to be. Sex with her just hadn’t felt… good. Which was sort of the point. He feels bad about it, knowing it was his fault, but Rose had been very kind about it, at least.

So, knowing he was gay, but not wanting to default to Rozanov, after things had become so real last time, he thought about the possibility of hooking up with another man. Only he couldn’t go to a gay bar, nor did he trust going on one of those apps he’d heard about. He’s one of the most recognisable faces in hockey, which there are probably even some gay fans of. It wouldn’t be worth it if they decided to out him. Besides, hooking up with some complete stranger is daunting for other reasons. At least with Ilya, Shane had known him a little bit from their time together on the ice and felt familiar enough by the time they’d first hooked up. 

He didn’t think there was really another option. But then he’d remembered what Rose had said about Miles.

It was easy to find his instagram through Rose’s. Miles is following him, just like she’d said. He has far less followers than Rose, but still a significant number. He’s openly gay, and a bit flamboyant. From his time interacting with Miles, Shane knows he likes him, at least on the surface. They hadn’t talked much directly, but he was pleasant, and if he is a friend of Rose’s, Shane knows he can trust him. He is also attractive. Which helps.

Shane had still been nervous about it, but he was pretty sure he could trust Miles to be discreet, as well. Not just to the press, but to his own friends, even. It was a big chance to take, but Shane thought it could be worth it. 

He didn’t know how to go about it, though. He doesn’t exactly have a lot of experience with this. His only previous girlfriend had been from high school, and then Rose had been a fluke, a chance meeting, and the thing with Rozanov, well… That is harder to define, but not exactly a good playbook for this.

Too nervous about Instagram’s privacy, Shane ended up texting Rose, asking for Miles’ number. She gave it over with a thumbs up emoji and no questions, which was hopefully a good sign. 

Shane wrote and rewrote his message ten times, but ended up on just, Hi, Miles? Rose gave me your number. This is Shane.

After a few more messages back and forth, Shane ended up inviting Miles over to his condo for the evening. Shane didn’t give him much information — he was hoping Miles could read between the lines, and it seemed that he could, because he wasn’t surprised when Shane told him blatantly that he was gay, things hadn’t worked out with Rose for that reason, and he was interested in a no-strings hookup. They had a glass of wine each – nowhere near enough to get drunk, but enough that Shane was no longer buzzing with anticipation – and sat and chatted for a bit. Miles asked him what he wanted, and Shane did his best to respond. Miles looked surprised when Shane said he wanted to bottom for him, but he nodded, and that’s what they did.

They’d kissed, and touched, and Miles had opened him up and fucked him, and it was good. It really was! Better than it was the few times he’d tried with Rose. Enough to validate that yeah, he’s gay, and fuck, something is still wrong.

Miles isn’t Ilya. 

He doesn’t regret sleeping with Miles, because he knows he needed to. He needed to have an experience with someone other than Ilya, with a man other than Ilya. That’s not why he feels bad. And there was nothing wrong with Miles, nothing he could have done better, which proves to Shane what he already sort of knew. But now he can’t deny the truth any longer.

He’s in love with Ilya Rozanov. Fuck. 

What should he do? What even can he do? It’s not like he can ask Ilya to come over, not after how Shane left last time. And, besides, he’s either in Boston or somewhere else in North America, nowhere near Montreal.

Does he even want to admit it? He shouldn’t – right? He should keep this to himself, and try to let it fade. He can’t have what he wants. It would be better to let Ilya go, let him find a girl, and then when Shane retires and is over these feelings, he can find another man and date him quietly. Being with Ilya publicly isn’t possible, not while they’re still playing hockey, and not easily after, either. 

But he wants it, fuck, he wants it. He wants Ilya’s hands on him again. He wants to have sex with him, yes, but he wants to kiss him more. He wants to be held. Miles had offered to hold him, after, but Shane had shied from his touch. Those weren’t the right hands, weren’t the arms he wanted wrapped around him. Ilya is all he wants.

He feels himself starting to shake and he doesn’t know why. Maybe he’d pushed Miles out of there too soon. But he’d never had a problem when it was with Ilya, who usually had to leave quickly, or else Shane did. 

All he knows is he needs to hear his voice. 

He’s got his phone out and he’s calling Ilya before he can think about it another second, which is the sort of foolish thing he tries to avoid but just can’t seem to help when it comes to Ilya. 

The phone rings for a full six beats before going through to voicemail. 

Hi. This is Ilya. I will never listen to your voicemail.

Shane hangs up and puts his head back in his hands. He can handle himself. He doesn’t need to talk to Ilya. He can sort himself out on his own.

He’s still sitting there a minute later when his phone starts buzzing. He startles at the phone call, and is more shocked to see it’s from Lily.

He answers it.

“Had to get out of shared room,” Ilya’s voice comes through. “What is wrong? Did someone die?”

Of course Ilya would assume something was majorly wrong if Shane is calling him out of the blue after all this time, at this hour. He tries to keep his voice steady, bringing his phone to his ear. 

“Everything’s fine, I just– Sorry.” Shane sighs. He already feels a bit more put together. “Sorry. Where are you?”

“I am in stairs,” Ilya answers. “Nobody is here. If everything is fine, why are you calling me?”

“I’m sorry,” Shane says again. He knows he sounds a little pathetic. He doesn’t have a lie that makes any sense, so the truth will have to do. “I needed to hear your voice.”

There’s silence for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“I just…” Fuck, he really sounds like a loser. He bites his lip. “I can go.”

“No, Hollander,” Ilya says instantly. “I am already in stairs, sitting down. Tell me what you mean.”

Shane sighs softly. “Fine, but… please don’t make fun of me? Like really. Promise?”

Ilya sounds confused, but agrees. “Yes, Hollander, I won’t.”

“I…” It’s so embarrassing to say. “I had sex with someone else. And afterwards, I felt… Bad.”

“With Rose Landry?” Ilya says, sounding even more confused, and of course he would be. If he’s been looking at the news he knows they were together, and thinks they still are. Even though it’s been a week, neither has confirmed to the media that they broke up, since they never really confirmed being together in the first place, they just got papped.

“No,” Shane says. “I mean, yes, but not… we broke up. She broke up with me because… because I’m gay.” This isn’t really how he wants to be coming out for the first real time, but it spills out of him. “So I thought I’d try having sex with someone else, with a man, because I only ever have with you?” Shane rubs at his face. He’s saying this all wrong. “But it didn’t— I don’t know why I feel so—”

“Hollander,” Ilya says again, this time a little more firmly. “Did he hurt you?” It’s almost a growl, like Ilya’s upset by the very thought.

Shane shakes his head even though Ilya can’t see. “No,” he assures Ilya quickly. “No, he did everything right, it was fine, I just felt… bad. Afterwards, I felt bad.” Tears prick up in Shane’s eyes, but he doesn’t let them fall. His voice feels thick. “I don’t know why I feel so bad.” He sighs, shaking his head. 

“I am in New York,” Ilya says. He sounds almost regretful. “Not helpful.”

“I’m sorry for calling,” Shane says, reaching up to rub at his wet eyes. This was stupid, he shouldn’t have called in the first place. “I shouldn’t ha—”

“No,” Ilya says, before Shane can continue on his spiral. “You did right thing, by calling.”

“I did?” Even just that little bit of reassurance has Shane calming down, the panic starting to recede. 

“Yes. Is bad thing, to feel like that.” Ilya’s voice is soothing, calm, steady. “Even if everything is right, sometimes it feels bad. Not physically, but… inside.”

Shane nods. “Yeah,” he agrees. He swallows. “Can you just… can you just talk? Tell me about your day, or something? Anything.” He doesn’t know why he needs this so badly, but he knows he does.

Ilya clears his throat. “If this is what you want,” he says, and then pauses before he starts speaking. He talks about the game they had played, and then backwards into talking about practice. It was a mundane day, but the little details that Ilya puts focus on have Shane starting to relax, smiling, because they’re so charming. Ilya talks briefly about the weather but he notes several of the other players’ dispositions for the day, and the temperature in the rink they’d played in, and how one of his skates felt just a touch dull. 

Shane’s eyes close and he relaxes. He already feels better. 

“Thank you,” Shane says, after it’s clear that Ilya is running out of things he has to say. “I’m sorry for running away,” he blurts, not even sure why he said it. He shouldn’t have, shouldn’t be, but he can’t stop himself. “I need to— I should explain—”

“Hollander,” Ilya says, almost like a warning. “You don’t have to do that. Not now.”

Shane shakes his head. “I have to…”

“Not now,” Ilya says. “Do you feel better, now?”

Shane bites his lip. “I do.” He doesn’t want Ilya to go, but gets that he probably has to. 

“Good,” Ilya says. “Let yourself feel better.”

“I won’t see you again until the All-Star game,” Shane realises. That’s weeks away. He frowns.

“Yes. But you will see me then. And if you need to call me again, you will. Okay?”

“Okay,” Shane agrees. It feels kind of big, being given that permission. Significant. He’s never called Ilya before. Even doing so now had been risky. But to be told he can at any time, that has to mean something, doesn’t it? “Thank you.”

“Yes, thank me for telling you all about my boring day,” Ilya says, and Shane can hear a smile in it. He relaxes a little more, leaning back into the couch. “I’m sure you have as early day as I do. You should sleep.”

He does. He really should have been in bed hours ago. “I probably should,” he agrees. 

“I need to as well,” Ilya says. His voice is soft, like he’s holding back a yawn. “But if you need to hear voice again tomorrow, you text and then call. Okay?”

Shane can’t help the smile on his face, and he doesn’t stop himself, knowing it’s going unseen. Maybe he’s not alone in this. Maybe Ilya really does like him as much as Shane likes Ilya. Loves him, even. 

“Okay,” Shane says softly. “And you know— you know you can always call me, if you need to talk?” He wants to extend that olive branch.

There’s silence for a few moments. “I know,” comes the quiet reply. “Good night, Hollander.”

“Good night, Rozanov,” Shane says back, closing his eyes as he hangs up the phone. He’s still smiling.