Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

Coming Out, Relationship Reveal, Crack Treated Seriously, Ilya Rozanov is a Menace, Leaked Texts, Press and Tabloids, Shane Hollander is not a secret misogynist, Ilya Rozanov champions women's sports, Shane Hollander's Boston Lily

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-04-07 Words: 1,601 Chapters: 1/1

The Real Scoop (It's always the quiet ones)

Summary

Post-game press goes off the rails when a reporter confronts Shane about a new TMZ article: MLH Star Shane Hollander Has a Secret Girlfriend—And He Treats Her Like This?

Shane’s texts had been leaked. They’d figured out he was dating Lily, and that the way he talked to her was… rough. They’d figured out he liked to get fucked. But they’d come to the completely wrong conclusions.

They thought Shane Hollander was a secret misogynist who got pegged by his girlfriend.

Notes

Set ambiguously post-cottage in Ilya's first year with the Centaurs.

The whole concept of Shane's texts to Lily coming across as misogynistic was borrowed from the fic Leaked by mochae. Much gratitude to that author for the inspiration. Go check it out.

Thank you to poading for the beta!

• Inspired by Leaked by mochae

All that stood between Ilya Rozanov and having Shane Hollander underneath him was one round of obnoxious post-game press. It was always the same questions, slightly rephrased from game to game, and it tried Ilya’s patience on the best of days. On a day when he would be seeing Shane afterward, though, the questions always seemed extra inane, the minutes longer than should be possible. Shane’s presence in the seat next to him was an extra layer of maddening tension that had him ready to tell the whole room to fuck off.

Then, quite suddenly, a journalist in the front row stood up to ask her question and things became very un-boring.

“Shane, have you seen the article about your leaked text messages yet? Can we get a comment? They’re calling you a misogynist for how you talk to your girlfriend Lily.”

Ilya and Shane locked gazes, eyes wide in horror.

“They… what?” Shane breathed. “What article?”

The journalist slid her phone onto the table in front of them with an article up on the screen. The headline read: MLH Star Shane Hollander Has a Secret Girlfriend—And He Treats Her Like This?

They skimmed the article side-by-side as quickly as they could, with Ilya doing the scrolling since he read slower in his second language. The main points were clear. 

Shane’s texts had been leaked. There were a dozen excerpts in the article, all the usual shit talk they threw back and forth. They’d figured out he was dating Lily, and that the way he talked to her was… rough. They’d figured out he liked to get fucked. But they’d come to the completely wrong conclusions.

They thought Shane Hollander was a secret misogynist who got pegged by his girlfriend.

“Oh my god,” Shane breathed in horror, his eyes falling shut.

Ilya burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it. Shane’s eyes flew open, alight with fury.

“It’s not funny,” he bit out.

“It’s a little funny,” Ilya said through his snickers. 

Shane shook his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Ilya wiped his eyes, forcing himself to be serious. 

“One moment please,” he said to the assembled reporters, then turned the mic away from him and covered it with his hand as an extra measure. Shane quickly did the same. They bent their heads together and Ilya spoke in a low voice, just above a whisper. 

“Look, Shane, there is a very easy solution to this.”

“No,” Shane said instantly.

“Yes,” Ilya countered. “So the timeline is moved up. Is not so bad.”

Shane scrubbed a hand down his face, then gripped his hair tightly, eyes squeezed shut. 

“I can’t, Ilya. Just… now? Right now?”

Ilya’s expression softened. He reached out and gave Shane’s shoulder a little shake, knocking loose a bit of the tension suffusing his entire being.

“Hey, come on. Which would you rather? That they think the kindest, most polite little Canadian boy that ever lived is secretly a horrible misogynist? Or the truth that was going to come out soon anyway?”

Shane looked over at him, expression tight with worry.

“But what about…” he trailed off, glancing out at the absolutely silent room full of journalists, then mouthed the last words silently. “You? Russia?”

Ilya shook his head with a small, sad smile. “Is fine. Is good, actually. I want to.”

Shane sat back in his seat, letting his hand fall away from the mic. He blew out a long breath, staring up at the ceiling for an eternal moment.

“Okay,” he said finally.

“Okay,” Ilya echoed, a bubbly sensation fizzing just under his skin. Finally. Finally. “You want me to do it?”

Shane waved a hand, giving permission. 

“You’ll enjoy it more,” he said.

Ilya grinned and sat up straight, staring out at the crowd of confused but eager journalists. Their reactions were going to be so entertaining. He uncovered the mic and turned it back to face him.

“Oh, you all are so lucky today. You are getting much bigger story than you thought. Are you ready?”

“Oh, just do it already,” Shane said with a groan, turning his own mic back. Ilya’s smile sharpened even as he rubbed soothing circles on Shane’s back.

“Lily,” he began with a dramatic pause. “Is the name Shane has my number saved under in his phone. Lily is me. I am secret girlfriend. Well, boyfriend.”

The room exploded. Every reporter was on their feet, shouting, crowding forward. And over it all, Ilya Rozanov cackled, his heart bursting with joy and his expression a vision of pure chaotic delight. The poor PR representatives from the Metros and the Centaurs called for order and managed to get everyone seated and quiet again, while under the table, Shane squeezed the life out of Ilya’s hand.

“We’re really doing this,” Shane whispered. Ilya ran a soothing thumb over Shane’s knuckles.

“We really are,” Ilya whispered back. “Is going to be okay, solnyshko.”

Shane took a deep, steadying breath, then looked up at the expectant crowd.

“Well, you have questions. Let’s hear them,” he said, pointing at a random man from the dozens of hands that immediately flew into the air.

“So you’re both gay and confirming a relationship between the two of you?” he asked.

“I am bisexual,” Ilya quickly corrected. “Shane is super gay.”

“I’m regular gay, for the last time, Ilya. And yes, we are confirming a relationship,” Shane said as if there were a gun to his head. 

“Sorry, Mama Yuna,” Ilya interjected with his most charming future-mother-in-law approved smile. “I know this was not the plan.”

“Yeah, sorry, Mom,” Shane said with a grimace.

Ilya took the next question, and the woman stood, visibly trembling with excitement over the story she was getting.

“How long have you been together?” she asked.

Ilya smirked and looked at Shane, who cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“We’ve been serious since early 2017,” he said. “But we’ve been, ah… seeing each other on and off since the summer before our rookie season. 2010.”

The collective gasp was nearly as delicious as the initial reveal had been. Ilya leaned into the mic with a smirk.

“I’ve been obsessed with him since Juniors though,” he admitted, looking to Shane as he said it. “The MLH has never known an Ilya Rozanov that was not already falling for Shane Hollander.”

Shane nodded, a touch of flush behind his freckles and a tiny curl of smile at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. What he said. Every goal, every win, every playoff game, every cup. We’ve always been rivals on the ice, but we’ve always been this off the ice, too.”

That set the room off again, everyone shouting and waving their hand for attention. Shane called on a quieter man in the back in retaliation, which turned out to be a mistake.

“What do you say to those who believe being in a relationship with another player compromises the integrity of the game?” the man asked.

Ilya snorted and rolled his eyes. “I’d say women’s sports has had this figured out for a long time, so why is this any different? The PWHL, the WNBA, the NWSL, they are all full of athletes dating each other, yes?”

The journalist opened his mouth to retort but Ilya cut him with three clicks of his tongue.

“No, no, no, let me stop you before you say something misogynistic about women’s sports,” he said.

“Our stats, records, and awards say everything there is to say about the integrity of our game. If anything, we make each other better players,” Shane adds, then finally manages a full, real smile for the first time since the question that changed everything. “Besides, beating Rozanov on the ice is one of my favorite things in life.”

“Too bad you didn’t manage it today,” Ilya shot back, and Shane shoved his shoulder.

“Yeah, barely,” he said. “We’ve got you next time.”

“Last question,” the Metros PR person called, and Shane picked a sharp-eyed woman in the middle row.

“Mr. Hollander, I don’t think you’re quite beating the allegations of abusive language here. Just because you’re dating a man doesn’t make it acceptable to speak to him in a derogatory manner,” she said, cutting her eyes between the two of them. “Mr. Rozanov, do you have a comment?”

Ilya laughed, giving the back of Shane’s neck a comforting squeeze. “No, I see where you’re coming from, but look. We are both male hockey players who were raised in locker rooms and are extremely competitive with each other. Chirping is our…”

“Love language,” Shane finished when Ilya turned to him. “It’s all in good fun. Trust me, we’re disgustingly sweet sometimes, too.”

“Besides, I am asshole, we all know this,” Ilya said, giving Shane a little shake. “Shane is just trying to keep up with me. Like always.”

“Oh, fu—” Shane cut himself off at the last second, narrowly avoiding a league fine. “You see? This is just how we are.”

“Please don’t rescue me, I am right where I want to be,” Ilya said with a wink, then slapped his hands on the tabletop. “So there you have it, everyone. Shane is still the wonderful good boy you’ve always thought he was. He’s just gay and has his Russian boyfriend on a short leash.”

Ilya paused, then cocked his head and shot Shane a filthy grin.

“Though, they’ve seen all of our sexting now. Maybe your proper golden boy image is a little tarnished after all.”

Shane buried his face in his arms on the table with a horrified moan.

“It’s always the quiet ones,” Ilya said.