Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternative Universe - 1870s, Homophobia, Period-Typical Homophobia, Secret Relationship, Forbidden Love, Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Sad, Minor Shane Hollander/Rose Landry, Prison, Ilya Rozanov Needs A Hug, Shane Hollander Needs a Hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, they're just sad puppies, Jealous Ilya Rozanov, Jealousy, Love Confessions

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-03-30 Words: 1,592 Chapters: 1/1

Severing my Soul From You

Summary

Shane Hollander meant nothing to Ilya Rozanov. And the oh-so-perfect son of the major, society’s sweetheart, had little to nothing to do with a Russian immigrant barely getting by, working at the factories. Sure, they have been fucking for over half a decade, but that...that was just fucking. Ilya knew that. It was just stolen moments, in dark alleys and shady motels. It meant nothing.

So why did it hurt so much to see Shane with his perfect, pretty fiancée at the pub?

or

After hearing about Shane's engagement, Ilya gets drunk and hooks up with a man. But he isn't careful enough, and the police arrest him for sodomy. Shane does everything in his power to get him out of prison.

Notes

I've done it! I caved and wrote Heated Rivalry fanfiction! I've been obsessed with the show, just like everyone else, but didn't dare to write fics for it. But then I had this idea, and, long story short, here we are.

Russian translation:
(I don't speak Russian, so this is all Google Translate)
Хуй - dick (but is used more like fuck)
К чёрту это - to hell with it
да - yes

Shane Hollander meant nothing to Ilya Rozanov. And the oh-so-perfect son of the major, society’s sweetheart, had little to nothing to do with a Russian immigrant barely getting by, working at the factories. Sure, they have been fucking for over half a decade, but that...that was just fucking. Ilya knew that. It was just stolen moments, in dark alleys and shady motels. It meant nothing. 

So why did it hurt so much to see Shane with his perfect, pretty fiancée at the pub? She rested her hand on Shane's arm, caressing it gently from time to time, as she laughed about something Shane said. She called him hers. My fiancé, she said, and smiled proudly. Ilya could never call Shane his.

It didn’t matter. Shane was going to get married, and Rose Landry, or future Mrs. Hollander, would pop out a dozen adorable children with freckles and black hair. Shane would run for office and smile proudly on the front page of the newspaper, posing with his little family. And down the line, Ilya might read it, between long shifts, and curse the day he met him.

So he got drunk. Not out of jealousy - Ilya didn’t do jealousy. He fucked whomever he wanted, and didn’t expect loyalty from his partners. He could feel Shane’s eyes on him as he drank, and he pretended not to care. And when a man who looked nothing like Shane caught his eyes, and smiled, gesturing for him to meet outside, Ilya followed him. Maybe it was the alcohol still burning his throat, or his jumbled thoughts, but he was careless. Didn’t even go far away, just grabbed the man by the collar, pushing him up against the wall in the alley right next to the pub. The man’s mouth on his neck, his hand on Ilya’s cock, it almost made him forget about Shane. Almost. And then there was shouting, and policemen with batons yanking Ilya away from the man. Ilya did threw a few good punches before he was wrestled to the ground, the batons raining down on his ribs and back. He thought he saw the other man escape through a fence, but he wasn’t sure; the pain and the alcohol blurring everything together until someone landed a hit on his head, and the world went dark.

Waking up in a cell wasn’t really a surprise. Ilya sat up with a hiss, his ribs protesting.

"блять,” he cursed as he assessed his situation.

At least he was alone in the cell, no other inmate posturing and trying to prove he couldn’t be fucked with. He wondered how much time he had before one of the policemen came and interrogated him. They probably won't until the morning. They all had families to be with; they weren’t in a rush to deal with the sodomite they had locked up.

Fuck.

What was he going to do now?

Ilya took a few deep breaths, rubbing his temple. There was no point in panicking. It wouldn’t help. They might let him go after a few days in a cell and a good beating. They might not have enough evidence or witnesses if this does go to court, especially if they didn’t catch the other guy. Might. That little word was a lot to hang all his hopes on, but what was Ilya supposed to do? Wail and scream? К чёрту это.

He dozed off, eventually. He woke to the rattling of keys and sat up straighter, glaring defiantly at the police officer. It was still dark outside, so maybe this wasn’t an official interrogation yet. Maybe they just wanted to have some fun with the bugger they had caught. But the police officer wasn’t even looking at Ilya. No, all his attention was on the figure lurking behind him in the dark.

“Are you sure of this, sir? He could be dangerous.”

“I am. Leave us.”

That voice made Ilya’s heart flutter. He needed all his self-control not to jump up, but he remained still, his face stoic, until the officer left. Shane stood in the cell door, now open, looking at Ilya with worry.

“You look terrible,” he said.

Ilya smirked.

“That’s not very nice thing to say, Hollander.”

He knew Shane was right, of course. The bruises from the batons were probably already in full bloom, and being slightly hungover didn’t help.

“Get up. I’m getting you out of here.”

Ilya didn’t move, enjoying the way Shane glared at him.

“Mr. Money Bag. Think you can solve it all with your father’s cash? Bribery is crime, you know.”

“This is serious, Rozanov,” Shane hissed. “You can be an asshole about it later, but we need to leave. Now.”

“What will they think?” Ilya went on, as if he didn’t even hear Shane’s response. “The Major’s son, rushing to save filthy sodomite. Not a good look, yes?”

Shane went red, but he didn’t back off. 

“You think I don’t know that?”

Ilya stood up, walking over to him lazily, until they were so close he could feel Shane’s ragged breath on his face.

“So why come? You have pretty little fiancée now, Hollander. Be good boy and go home to her. I’m not your problem anymore.”

He saw the way Shane looked at his lips. He knew what Shane wanted, what he still wanted. He didn’t look this way at Rose Landry, Ilya was sure of it. Finally, Shane tore his eyes from Ilya’s lips to look him in the eye. His brown eyes were so full of worry, it was adorable.

“You know what they’ll do to you if you get sentenced?” Shane said. “They’ll lock you up and work you to death.”

“I’m not afraid of little work, Hollander,” Ilya shrugged.

“Damn it!” Shane cursed, glancing at the door nervously. “Why are you doing this? Why won’t you let me help you?”

Ilya ran his thumb across Shane’s jaw, feeling just how tense he was.

“Tell me why you want to help. Tell me, and I’ll come with you.”

Shane’s breath hitched, and Ilya saw how he struggled to find the right words, the words he never dared to say. Good. He deserved to suffer a bit.

“I love you, okay?” Shane finally snapped. “Is that good enough, Ilya? Will you come with me now?”

Ilya smiled, satisfied, and grabbed his coat.

“Lead the way.”

The police officer didn’t bat an eye when Shane walked out with Ilya in tow. He was probably paid handsomely for it, Ilya thought bitterly. Shane didn’t stop once outside, leading them far away from the station. He stopped at the edge of a park, with no one in sight. 

“You should leave town, at least for a while. Some people saw you getting arrested. They will talk.”

He tried to seem nonchalant, as if the earlier confession didn’t even happen. But Ilya wasn’t going to let him forget about it so easily.

“They can talk. I like it here. Besides,” he smiled. “Man who says he loves me is here.”

“I...” Shane stammered.

He was cute like this. Ilya wanted to kiss him badly, but he restrained himself. 

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to help again if you get into trouble. It’s dangerous for you here. And I...I don’t want to see you go to jail.”

“Worried about me, yes?” Ilya teased, but Shane just huffed, frustrated.

“This isn’t a game, Ilya. The punishment for sodomy...”

“Attempted sodomy. Did not fuck him.”

“The punishment for it is years in jail. Decades. They will work you there, all day long, breaking stones, on the crank, with no rest. It’s not like the factories. You can leave now. Start anew at some other place. You like women. Find a nice one. It should be easy enough.”

It seemed to physically pain Shane to say that last part.

“I like women, yes,” Ilya said. “But I like you, too. If I leave, will you come with me, Hollander? You can be my cousin. New city, no one knows you. We rent room together, I can fuck you every night, the way you like it.”

He watched Shane’s face, a storm of emotions. It was a stupid thing to ask, Ilya knew. Shane had too much to lose, too many things tying him here. Still, Ilya couldn’t help but hope...

“Ilya, I... I can’t. My parents, Rose...”

“Shane,” Ilya said, his hand now on Shane’s arm, pulling him closer. 

He kissed Shane, and there was no hesitation in the way Shane kissed back. It was something familiar, something they both craved, despite everything.

“Come with me, Shane,” Ilya whispered as they broke apart. “Forget about stupid finacée. Your parents will be fine. You will be fine. I can protect you.”

But Shane was already shaking his head, pulling away, and it broke Ilya's heart in a way he didn't know was possible.

“I can’t. I’m sorry, Ilya, but I can’t.”

Ilya stepped back. He wasn't going to beg.

“Okay,” he said. ‘I’ll leave, if that’s what you want. Tell me this is what you want, and I leave. You won’t see me again.”

Shane swallowed, the words stubbornly stuck in his throat. Ilya wished he would remain silent. But eventually, Shane spoke up.

“Yes. I want you to leave. It is safer this way, Ilya.”

“да. Safer,” Ilya repeated. 

He swung his coat across his shoulder and turned away.

“Goodbye, Hollander,” he said.

Shane didn’t try to stop him. He didn’t call after him.

And Ilya walked away.