Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Yuna Hollander & Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander, Yuna Hollander

Additional Tags:

POV Ilya Rozanov, Episode: s01e01 Rookies (Heated Rivalry), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-01-25 Words: 3,206 Chapters: 1/1

i can see you

Summary

Ilya doesn’t respond. In front of him, the elevator doors finally close again. It’s eight floors until the fourteenth floor, so odds are that Yuna Hollander is going to attempt to make conversation with him at least three more times.

Ilya should have taken the stairs when he had the chance. That’s better than standing here for God knows how many seconds with his rival’s mother, who he is on his way to have sex with.

“So are you going back to Russia before the training camps start?” Yuna Hollander asks him.

“Yes,” Ilya replies, not elaborating.

When Ilya goes to hook up with his rival Shane Hollander, he runs into Shane's mother in the elevator. He has to endure a few minutes of the most awkward small talk of his life as a result of a very slow elevator.

Is Ilya sneaking around with Shane Hollander, Canada’s golden boy of hockey and whatever else they call him here?

Technically, Ilya guesses, Hollander himself isn’t doing any sneaking around. Ilya has seen his mother with him, or a woman he has to guess is his mother, but he assumes they have separate rooms and have no evening plans he needs to sneak out of. Hollander is just in his room. Watching TV, maybe. Waiting for Ilya, possibly. But Hollander isn’t doing anything here. No, that’s Ilya, sneaking out of his room to go to Hollander’s ridiculous fourteenth floor room.

Ilya doesn’t think that anyone knows they’re here, other than their families, their agents and the crew that shot the commercial. Hollander is more recognisable in Canada than Ilya is, but since they’re not big stars in the NHL yet they can very easily get away with this. A year from today they’ll be two NHL stars sneaking around to see each other. A year from today one of them will have won Rookie of the Year at the NHL awards and Ilya will make damn sure it’s him.

A year from today Ilya will be back in Russia, dealing with his ever-demanding family who scoff at his decision to join the Boston Raiders and expect the money from Ilya’s rookie contract and endorsement deals all the time.

But today, he’s here. Today, Ilya is in Toronto and he has Shane Hollander waiting for him. Today, he’s sneaking around to see Shane Hollander, but not with him. Yet, maybe.

He makes it to the elevator without being seen. There are two elevators on this side of the building. Ilya realised earlier that one of them is broken. The hotel staff don’t seem to have called someone in yet to fix it, because the ‘out of order’ sign is still present in front of the elevator doors. He steps in the other one, moves to the back and punches the button for 14. He watches the numbers go up, one by one.

Maybe Hollander isn’t even there, Ilya reckons. He could have left his hotel room by 9 PM to make sure he won’t see Ilya. He could just not open the door and leave Ilya standing there by his door, silently waiting until he leaves. He could also let Ilya in and then tell him there is no way they are going to do this.

Well, he would be missing out. It’s Shane Hollander’s loss, realistically.

Ilya also feels compassion for Hollander, who is clearly less comfortable with his sexuality than Ilya is. Not many guys their age are as comfortable with their sexuality as Ilya, probably, but Hollander seemed to walk a line between curious and shy that he needs to fall off at either side at some point soon.

Or maybe -

The thought is stopped short when the elevator stops at the sixth floor. The doors open and a woman is standing there. She has dark hair and is wearing a light jacket and a scarf. Her gaze is thoughtful at first, then focused when she sees Ilya. After a moment she smiles slowly and opens her mouth to say something.

Ilya realises he’s seen her before. Today, in the stands. At the draft a couple of months ago. Probably on a few more occasions where Shane and he were both expected to be present. 

Shane’s mother.

“Oh, hello there,” she says before glancing at the number on the elevator. “I’m trying to go down.”

Ilya has to go up. Many floors up, but Ilya is wise enough not to mention the exact floor. She needs to assume it's a complete coincidence that Ilya is headed to the same floor that her son is on, but he’s still not going to chance it. 

“This is going up,” he says, the English still sounding odd in his accent and feeling just as odd in his mouth. The language has so many sounds that they just don’t use in Russian. 

“I’ll take the other elevator then,” she says with a smile. 

Ilya nods, hoping that that’s the last he’ll see of Hollander’s mother until the NHL Awards, where he assumes she will attend with her son. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket and tries for a friendly smile back.

She returns in his sight within five seconds though and, much to Ilya’s horror, actually gets in the elevator with him. What is she doing? Did she not hear him say that he has to go up and not down? Is she going to stand with him as the elevator goes past eight floors?

“The other elevator is -” she starts.

“Broken,” Ilya finishes the sentence, sighing to himself. 

Hollander’s mother turns her attention to the buttons. Ilya can see her frown to herself when she discovers that Ilya is on his way to the fourteenth floor before pressing the button for the ground floor for herself. Ilya feels like he should fabricate a lie about going to see a woman on the fourteenth floor. Someone introduced themselves to Ilya during dinner in the hotel restaurant. That’s a perfect cover.

However, if he isn’t going to see Shane he wouldn’t know that Shane is on the fourteenth floor, so he doesn’t have to explain anything to begin with. He just has to go with it and act like he has no idea what’s going on.

They stand next to each other silently. Ilya hopes they can do that the entire time, but the doors are not even closed yet when Hollander’s mother speaks. And just like Shane in Saskatchewan one and a half year ago at the International Prospect Cup, she is holding out her hand, waiting for Ilya to shake it.

God, those polite Canadians. Ilya doesn’t know what to do with them.

So he shakes her hand, trying for another smile on his face that he hopes comes across well. What is he supposed to say? Hello, Mrs Hollander, I am on my way up to have sex with your son?

“I’m Yuna Hollander,” she kindly introduces herself. “Shane’s mother. I came with him to the CCM commercial shoot. Did any of your parents go with you?”

He quickly shoves his hands back in the pockets of his denim jacket. He’s only wearing a tank top underneath and he hopes it isn’t especially noticeable. It was an obvious choice considering he’s on his way to hook up with someone, but Yuna Hollander doesn’t need to know that. 

“Ilya,” he introduces himself awkwardly, despite knowing that Mrs Hollander knows who he is. Otherwise she wouldn’t have started talking about the CCM commercial. “No, I am here on my own.”

Yuna Hollander frowns at that. If Ilya had to guess she probably doesn’t think that he should be in Toronto on his own. Shane isn’t on his own either and he at least knows the country and speaks the language as his first language. She has a point, but Ilya doubts that his father or his brother would have been any help at all. The Hollanders probably have a very different family life than the Rozanovs do.

“They must be so excited for you!” Yuna Hollander exclaims. 

That’s that myth confirmed: the Hollanders are definitely just excited and pleased for their son, rather than envious of the money he will be making and angry that he’s leaving their hometown and also the continent. 

Ilya doesn’t respond. In front of him, the elevator doors finally close again. It’s eight floors until the fourteenth floor, so odds are that Yuna Hollander is going to attempt to make conversation with him at least three more times.

Ilya should have taken the stairs when he had the chance. That’s better than standing here for God knows how many seconds with his rival’s mother, who he is on his way to have sex with.

“So are you going back to Russia before the training camps start?” Yuna Hollander asks him.

“Yes,” Ilya replies, not elaborating.

“Where are you from?” she continues to ask. “Which part of Russia?”

The only part that North Americans tend to know when Ilya mentions Russia. He assumes that saves him a lot of explaining. “Moscow.”

She nods. “I’ve only heard great things,” she says with a warm smile, like she’s trying to put Ilya at ease. It’s not working. “It gets very cold in the winter, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t think worse than Boston,” Ilya offers. “Just feels different.” Then, since they’re apparently talking about the weather now: “Canada gets cold too, yes?”

That startles a light laugh out of Yuna Hollander. “Yes, it does,” she agrees. “Nothing we can’t handle. And nothing we have to think about for a few more months.” She pauses, and for a moment Ilya thinks they’re done with awkward small talk and can stand in the elevator side by side until it arrives at the fourteenth floor.

It’s not at all the case. It seems Yuna Hollander just needed a moment to land on a new topic. “Are you pleased about being drafted by Boston?”

And they’re back to one-word answers. “Yes.”

God, how long is this elevator going to take? They’re only on the tenth floor now. Is this the world’s slowest elevator?

She hums. “It’s a great team,” she says. “A great center on the first line is exactly what they need to start consistently making the play-offs at least. I don’t think they’re ready to win the Stanley Cup anytime soon, but the play-offs are tricky to predict. Normal rules never count during the play-offs. Anything can happen. To some extent, anyway.”

She sounds like she knows a lot about the NHL. More than Ilya does at any rate, though that’s not an achievement of any sort. He knows enough to be able to follow conversations about the league, but he likes to think he’ll learn more throughout seasons of playing in the league. He’s never going to know as much as someone who sounds like she followed the league before he and Shane were born.

“Do you have favourite team?” Ilya asks, having found an opening to steer the conversation away from anything that has to do with himself.

According to Yuna Hollander’s grin that’s a funny question. “The Montreal Voyageurs are my favourite team,” she admits. “I was very pleased that they drafted Shane. The best player in the draft was going to my favourite team!”

“Second best player in draft,” Ilya corrects her without a second thought.

To his relief, she laughs about that response. “You should say that,” she agrees. “More than anything, I wanted Shane to be drafted by a team who would see how good he was. I wanted him to be drafted by a team that made sense for him. Thankfully, the Voyageurs are a natural fit for him.” She sounds pleased, Ilya observes. 

He can’t imagine what it’s like to have a family that not only cares about the NHL, but also cares about his career to such an extent that it’s important to them where he gets drafted. Yuna Hollander sounds like she put a lot of thought into where she would like Shane to play. Ilya’s father, on the other hand, might not be able to mention where Ilya will play when he’s asked. He’ll remember it’s in the United States, probably, but not more than that.

“We live in Ottawa,” she continues to talk to him, “so I have a soft spot for the Ottawa Centaurs as well. I would like for them to do well. I am traditionally not very fond of Boston, though. The Voyageurs and the Bears are sworn rivals.”

“I have heard about this as well,” Ilya says. He’s probably supposed to, or maybe expected to, say something to fuel that rivalry, but he finds he doesn’t want to. “It will be interesting to play against Montreal. And Shane. He is very good.”

That draws a soft smile out of her. “He is,” she agrees. “But you are very good as well, Ilya.”

The use of his first name threatens to make him smile, but he just manages to stop it from happening. “Thank you, Mrs Hollander,” he says. 

“Call me Yuna,” she tells him. “Are you flying out early tomorrow, Ilya?”

“Very early,” he says, thinking about the two flights he has to take just to get back to Moscow. 

He’s not at all excited to go back to Moscow, but he doesn’t have an excuse to stay in Canada or to go to Boston already. He has to go back and he wants to go back out of duty and responsibility for his family, but that doesn’t mean he’s looking forward to it. He won’t be counting the days until he can go back to Boston, but it’s close.

It’s not all bad, though. Svetlana is in Moscow as well. He won’t have to see that much of his family. He can focus on working out to get in shape for the start of the season and spend his evenings and nights going out. 

Yuna’s voice brings him back to the present. “Can you have breakfast with us beforehand?” she asks. “I’d love to sit and talk with you for a bit longer, Ilya.”

Well, he can’t have breakfast with Yuna and Shane if he tells Shane about this encounter and the breakfast invitation and Shane subsequently kills him. 

“I have a very early flight,” Ilya tells Yuna. “Not a lot of planes go to Moscow from Toronto.” He has no idea if that’s true. His agent booked the flights. 

“That’s too bad,” she says, sounding like she genuinely means it. “Well, if you change your mind, Shane and I will be in the restaurant at 8AM. You’re more than welcome to join us, Ilya.”

The elevator finally, finally, arrives at the fourteenth floor. Ilya resists the urge to push himself through the doors and sprint through the hallway. He needs to finish this conversation politely. He’s probably going to see Yuna again at some point in his life, since Shane so far has been very consistent in bringing his mother to NHL events. 

“Thank you so much, Mrs Hollander,” he says. “This is where I need to be.”

“It was so nice to meet you, Ilya,” Yuna says and Ilya believes she means it. “Have a safe flight home, in case I don’t catch you at breakfast tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” he says again. “Have a nice summer.”

“You too, honey.”

Ilya slips through the doors of the elevator and starts to walk, not really looking where he’s going. He just knows he can’t be in that elevator for a single second longer. Should he tell Shane? Does it really matter? It’s not like it’s going to change anything. This encounter happened. Ilya isn’t going to join them for breakfast. 

Behind him, the elevator doors close. The elevator goes back down. Ilya breathes out heavily and gives himself a few seconds to recover from this awkward encounter. He needs to be ready for Shane. Mostly, he needs to be ready for rejection, because the chances seem large that Shane isn’t going to be in room 1410.

Ilya finds room 1410 and knocks on the door. He expects to be left waiting at the very least, but the door opens fairly fast and reveals Shane to him. He’s wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants and looks at Ilya like he’s nervous, but he’s here.

“I thought you might chicken out,” Ilya admits to him.

Shane almost seems affronted by this. “I’m not,” he says. “I’m not a chicken.”

Ilya guesses the truth of that statement depends on what happens next. He moves further into the room, taking a long look at it. It looks mostly like the room that was booked for Ilya. There’s a made up bed and there are hardly any lights on. He can work with that. 

“But I think we should talk,” Shane continues, turning as Ilya moves to stand behind him. “Do you want to sit?”

Ilya approaches him now. Shane is the first one to reach out, a hand going to Ilya’s side. When Ilya reaches out for him, he lets Ilya touch him all too willingly. He’s shy and awkward and clearly doesn’t know what to do with this situation, but he also let it get this far. He had every opportunity to put an end to this situation and he hasn’t. 

So Ilya takes charge. 

 

Later, after they make out, after Shane almost made Ilya come on his tongue and then definitely manage that when they move to the bed, after Ilya happily reciprocates after teasing Shane, they lounge on Shane’s bed together. 

“I met your mother,” Ilya tells him.

Shane shoots up from where he’s been somewhat comfortably sprawled just a moment ago. “What?”

“Your mother,” Ilya repeats patiently. “In elevator. She was going down. I was not.”

For whatever reason, Shane groans into his pillow. Has Ilya not explained it well?

He lays a careful hand on Shane’s bare shoulder. He hardly tenses, which Ilya is inclined to see as a good thing. “We had a nice chat. That is all. We talked about the weather and NHL teams. She invited me for breakfast with her and you, but of course I will not be there.”

Shane lifts his head. “No?” he asks. “Do you not want to have breakfast with us?”

Does he not want to have breakfast with the man who he just hooked up with and his mother? No, he can’t say he wants to put himself in that mortifying situation voluntarily. The elevator was plenty of mortification for him for the rest of the year, thank you.

“Very early flight, Hollander,” he says. “I will be gone long before breakfast.”

“Oh.” Shane nods. “That’s alright, then. Thank you for telling me. And for - you know.”

Ilya doesn’t know, so he tries: “For the sex?” 

“No, fuck you,” is Shane’s immediate response, but he laughs. “For talking to her. For being nice enough that she’d invite you to breakfast.”

Ilya gets up from the bed, making his way over to his clothes that they’d dropped mostly near the feet end of the bed. “Is not a problem,” he says. “She was very nice.”

“She is,” Shane agrees. 

 

Years later, when Ilya meets Yuna again, he decidedly does not call her Yuna. Shane is freaking out and Yuna is confused and really, Ilya is just trying to make sure that Shane feels supported. Even if this feels like the end of the world for him, Ilya wants to make sure that he understands it’s not.

When Shane goes to talk to his mother alone, he leaves Ilya with David. The first thing that David says is: “Yuna always liked you. No matter how you seemed on television during interviews and games. She always mentioned that you were good.”

Ilya doubts David means ‘good’ as in good at hockey. “We once talked about the weather in an elevator,” he tells David. “She invited me for breakfast, but my flight left too early.”

David smiles. “Well, you’re here for dinner now.”