Rating:

General Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

Gen, M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander & Yuna Hollander, Yuna Hollander & Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Yuna Hollander, David Hollander, Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Jackie Pike, Hayden Pike, Cliff Marlow

Additional Tags:

Character Study, Post-Book 2: Heated Rivalry (Game Changers), Pre-Book 6: The Long Game (Game Changers)

Language:

English

Series:

Part 2 of Ilya&Yuna

Stats:

Published: 2026-01-25 Updated: 2026-02-03 Words: 4,792 Chapters: 3/4

4 Times Yuna Has a Conversation about Rozanov + 1 Time She Talks with Ilya

Summary

“I just can’t wrap my head around this…this whole thing.” Yuna takes a gulp of her coffee and picks at the pain au chocolat without actually taking a bite. She should really eat something at this rate but it looks too dry.

David moves the pastry plate closer to him so he can break a croissant in half without flakes flying everywhere and only mostly succeeds. “There isn’t much to get. He’s closer to thirty than he is to twenty now. He doesn’t have to tell us everything.”

---

What it says on the tin. Yuna embarks on a journey to learn about Shane, Ilya, and Shane&Ilya. Set in the liminal space between Book 2 and Book 6.

Notes

Not beta’d; we die like my team’s playoff dreams

Minor Canon-divergence in terms of post-book 2 timeline without changes to major events.

Chapter 1: David + Jackie

David

“Since their rookie season.” Yuna sighs into the coffee mug that David hands her. The answer to the universe may just be in there waiting to be discovered.

David chuckles and drops down in the seat across from her, “no, it was the summer before.” Yuna sends him a severe glare.

They are sitting at the bistro table by the large bay windows in their kitchen, as they always do on Saturday mornings, enjoying their first cup of coffee while watching the neighbourhood around them slowly wakes up. Well, it’s Yuna’s third cup of the day already, but who’s counting.

“I just can’t wrap my head around this…this whole thing.” Yuna takes a gulp of her coffee and picks at the pain au chocolat without actually taking a bite. She should really eat something at this rate but it looks too dry. 

David moves the pastry plate closer to him so he can break a croissant in half without flakes flying everywhere and only mostly succeeds. “There isn’t much to get. He’s closer to thirty than he is to twenty now. He doesn’t have to tell us everything.” 

“But this is a huge secret to keep. I – I just can’t help feeling I’ve done something terribly wrong to make him not trust us. Trust me. Now I cringe at the thought of every awkward conversation about girls I made him have.” David holds out a cut piece of pastry toward her and she instinctively eats it. It’s ham and cheese, and the savoury flavour sits better with her stomach than any of the sweet offerings early in the morning.

“I’ve watched those tiktok videos, you know? The ones with biracial kids talking about the difference of having an Asian mom versus an Asian dad.” Yuna catches David looking at her quizzically. He doesn’t know what she’s talking about, clearly. And why would he? David is a great husband, the best father, her rock and her everything… If only she had the confidence of a white man.

Yuna continues, “Asian moms are neurotic, strict, tigermoms, and aggressively giving their kids complexes. The internet thinks you can always tell whether a mixed kid has an Asian mom, as opposed to the dad. Did I do this to Shane? And now he’s run off to be with someone who insults him constantly.” She puts down her mug on the table a little too hard and the plate rattles against the metal. Luckily she’s drained all the coffee and there’s none left to spill. 

“I’m certain this is on the shitty hockey culture and not on you.” David wraps his hands around hers. “I know what locker rooms are like. And our dear Shane has a gentle soul but he spent all of his teenage years entirely on hockey and hockey-adjacent activities when other kids are figuring this stuff out .”

“I just don’t want him to… not have choices. Like he has to settle for the first boy who gave him attention. He’s smart, he’s driven, and he’s so much more than just hockey.”

David hums in agreement and squeezes her hands, “I don’t think it’s quite like that with them. He’s quite sweet, Rozanov, Ilya, that is. We chatted a bit while we made pasta together when you and Shane were talking outside. Like Shane said, the on ice stuff is just hockey. You and I know the truth to that more than most. Ilya was very nervous. And shy. But he was polite, almost differential, which I didn’t expect but that could just be him trying to ingratiate me. And I could tell he thinks the world of Shane. He knew all about Shane’s…special diet. For the record, I still don’t think pea protein pasta is good for anyone.” 

“At least Rozanov is very good at hockey,” Yuna huffs out a sigh, and then immediately points a finger at David, “Don’t you ever dare tell him that!”

“I still wish Shane had told us about his preferences. It’s like Shane was short-changed on an important life milestone.” Yuna says after a moment.

“Yuna, love of my life, I don’t want to say this so don’t hold it against me – but you didn’t tell your parents we were dating until we decided to move in together. And you only did that when they found out you signed a lease in a different city.”

Yuna tries to stare David down, but there’s no real heat behind it.

“Every generation thinks they are reinventing the wheel but we go through the same stuff. Just give some time for us all to get to know each other.”

“We should see them more before the season starts again.” Yuna relents. “Before they start spending half their time on the road. I don’t even know how they do this.”

“Like they’ve done it over and over again for the last seven years.” David brings her hand to his lips and presses a gentle kiss. “We should pick up some Le Moulin de Provence next time we head over.”

“Shane used to love their stuff.”

“I bet he may even eat some with Ilya there.”

“Hm. But we call and text them first, before showing up.”

“Definitely.”

*~*~*~*~*

Jackie

It’s just Jackie and Yuna at Shane’s apartment setting up for the team get-together that evening. The other WAGs are arriving with their partners after practice or at least later because everyone knows Shane gets twitchy when people are in his space while he’s not there, even if his mother is supervising. 

In the kitchen that Shane hardly uses, Jackie is laying out trays of catered food still in their insulated delivery containers, swaying to a song in her head, humming, slightly offkey, “Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share —“

Yuna inspects the drinks, which is somehow taking up more space than the food. As a sensible adult in charge of a room full of hockey boys (emotionally, at least, and possibly intellectually) for the night, most of what she has put out is pop, including three different kinds of Canada Dry. Bottles of, at minimum decent, red, white, and rosé are available for those with a more sophisticated palate, and several 2-4s of beer are chilling in the fridge, complete with that microbrewery shit some WAGs insist is better than Molson’s. There’s a table just for disposable cups of various types, along with a pack of multicoloured permanent markers for labeling them. Also napkins and paper towels, lots and lots of napkins and paper towels. There’s only so much she can do to keep the amount of garbage generated in one night down. 

She pops back into the kitchen as Jackie finishes to unload the last of the containers and helps with getting out all the plates and cutlery. 

“That’s about the last of it.” Jackie says, rinsing her hands in the kitchen faucet. 

Yuna hands her a plastic glass, “I hope white is ok,” and uncorks the bottle she’s specifically saved for herself and Jackie.

They both sit down on the large sectional in the living room with their wine glasses. “Thank god we should have about an hour before the team descends on us.”

“This is actually nice. I love my kids, but it’s such a relief to get a few hours of child-free adult entertainment, even if there’s a bunch of drunk hockey players.”

Yuna hums along like she knows what Jackie means, despite Shane being a precocious hockey prodigy who was quiet, reserved, and never went through a raucous phase.

There’s a comfortable pause in the conversation and Yuna takes it as the opening she’s been waiting for. “I heard from Shane that you and Hayden are in the know now,” she says causally. 

Jackie’s gaze snaps up from where she was staring into the distance, and then seems to remember who she is talking to and relaxes instantly. “Oh yah, Shane and Rozanov. Hayden figured it out, sort of. Yes, Shane told him. And we share a hive mind. Shane says they will have us over for dinner some time. It just hasn’t happened yet.”

“Do you know much about…them, or him?”

“Not really. Other than what’s in the tabloids and what Hayden tells me about their games. Rozanov’s notorious on the ice, but I think he’s quite hilarious. He manages to be funnier in his second language than most English speakers.” She swirls her glass a few times and takes a sip. “I’ve never seen him actually hurt Shane during games, at least not more than what’s expected beyond normal hockey; Hayden agrees, albeit reluctantly. And believe it or not, the Boston WAGs don’t have anything bad to say about him.”

This comes as a bit of a surprise to Yuna. Her arched eyebrows must convey that because Jackie quickly adds, “I only know one of the wives. A defenseman Hayden played with in the AHL went to Boston and I still had her contact. I casually brought it up, asking about Rozanov’s reputation, what with all the cars and women,” She sneaks a look at Yuna, “just the kind of chatting amongst the WAGs. She said Rozanov is a good captain, no locker room bullying – relentless chirping yes, but not toxic bullying – takes care of the players when the team goes out or on roadies, makes sure they all get home safe or at least have a hotel room to sleep off the worst of it, always sends gifts and food when someone’s injured, and is very respectful of all the wives and girlfriends – doesn’t make crude jokes about women, at least not when they are all together. I know for a fact that can’t be said about everyone who’s coming tonight.”

And that’s an unfortunate and uncomfortable truth Yuna can attest to.

“Yes, I’ve gone back and watched all of the games they played together. Gotta give it to him, Rozanov’s never made any dirty hits on Shane on the ice. Their games are always very intense.”

“I don’t think Shane minds being boarded by Rozanov all that much.” Jackie says with a laugh.

Lovers. Ugh. Since their rookie year. Yuna wants to cover her face and never think about that, so she reaches for the bottle and tops up both of them. 

“Oh wait,” Jackie shifts suddenly and some of the wine spills out. She quickly grabs one of the napkins from the stack on the coffee table to wipe the glass and her hand. “I almost forgot. Oh my god! I can’t believe I forgot that!”

Jackie puts her drink down, turns toward Yuna, and raises both of her hands in front of her chest. She flexes and extends her fingers several times as if trying to find the right words before continuing, “so, Shane had been texting this girl for several years. Probably since Hayden first joined the team, but he didn’t catch her name until a year or two later. All we knew was that her name was Lily and she lived in Boston and sometimes she visited Montreal because Shane would go out to see her. The few times I’ve seen Shane texting with her or coming back from seeing her, he seemed so happy. He had this smile, which was different from his other smiles. I asked Hayden a few times to get her number so I could add her to the WAGs chat, but Shane was very secretive about her. 

“And then last year, Hayden finally gave me her number, so I reached to just say ‘hey, this is Hayden’s wife, I’d like to welcome you to the WAGs group chat’. And she was furious and had quite a few choice words to say! Gave me the third degree. Told me Shane would never have agreed to this and how could we violate his privacy like that.

“I clued in pretty quickly that Hayden must have got that number while Shane left his phone on or something. I felt terrible, you know, like forcing someone to put a label on something that’s not quite ready to be labelled or whatever, because I thought that was the reason she was mad. I apologized, promised I would delete the number, from my phone and Hayden’s. She accepted my apology and said Shane valued us as his best friends and we must not betray that trust, which was actually rather sweet. So I did what I promised to do and that was that.

“It was the only interaction I had with her. I never thought much of it, especially after the whole Rose Landry affair. But oh my god, Ilya Rozanov is Boston Lily!”

Not that Yuna thinks Shane, or Rozanov for that matter, lied about how long they’ve been together, but it’s bittersweet for her to hear about the extent of secrecy they both went through – even with those who were supposedly their closest family and friends, even though it was obvious that Shane couldn’t hide his true feelings entirely. He was happy with “Boston Lily” during a time when Yuna highly suspected, no, not suspected, pretty much knew, if she is honest with herself, Shane didn’t like women that way. 

“I can’t believe how blind I was!” 

Yuna sets her drink down, then picks it up, drinks the rest of the wine, and puts it back down to refill the glass. “And I’m his mother.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Jackie says as she raises her glass.

Chapter 2: Marly

Chapter Summary

“I play for the Boston Bears. As a winger. I was drafted there in 2008 but didn’t play with them until 2009, um, after spending a year down on the farm team…”

Yuna is tempted to watch him fumble some more but decides to put a stop to it before Marlow gives her his entire CV including the names of his primary school teachers.

Chapter Notes

Sorry Hayden, you didn't make the cut.

Marlow

The meeting is not planned, and completely throws Yuna off.

Before Shane’s injury, she’s only ever seen Marlow on the ice, in games where Shane played against Boston. After the injury, well, despite knowing it was a clean hit and hockey being hockey – in addition to Shane repeating to her and David that he and Marlow talked, his apology was accepted, and what happens on the ice stays on the ice – she’s still having a hard time getting over the hit. Not, don’t ever let me see you in a dark alley, type of grudge, but more of a you better be prepared to face the mother after you’ve (accidentally) hurt her baby level of threat.

So. Yuna doesn’t bother hiding her disdain when she walks into Shane’s apartment and finds Cliff fucking Marlow of the Boston Bears, careless asshole who doesn’t know how to check properly, standing in the kitchen. Holding an orange.

Marlow sees her and drops the orange with a yelp. The orange hits the counter, rolls to the edge, then falls off and hits the floor with a thud. 

“Um…, I, I’m sorry,” Marlow stutters, “Mrs. Hollander, ma’am.” He holds out his hand and then decides against it, probably because they are standing at least ten meters apart and she hasn’t made any move to be closer.

“I’m Cliff. Marlow. Cliff Marlow. Ma’am.”

Yuna crosses her arms and doesn’t say a word.

“I play for the Boston Bears. As a winger. I was drafted there in 2008 but didn’t play with them until 2009, um, after spending a year down on the farm team…”

Yuna is tempted to watch him fumble some more but decides to put a stop to it before Marlow gives her his entire CV including the names of his primary school teachers.

“I know who you are.”

“Yes, yes of course, Mrs. Hollander, ma’am.” 

“Just one of those is fine.”

“Right…, sorry,” Marlow scratches the back of his neck nervously, “I’d like, um, to apologize for what happened last year. On the ice, at the game. The checking. I didn’t mean to hurt Hollander.”

“Shane said you guys talked and it’s all water under the bridge.” She uncrosses her arms and sets her Birkin bag down on the console behind the living loungers.

“Right, right.”

Yuna looks at the orange sitting on the floor. Marlow follows her gaze, pauses as if attempting to figure out the play, and then dashes over to grab it with the speed of a player trying to gain control of the puck that has just hit the boards.

Now that Marlow has possession of the orange, he doesn’t seem to know what to do with it. Yuna decides to put him out of his misery by taking the orange from him, which he gives up easily, rinsing it in the sink, and putting it back in the fruit bowl. Marlow’s probably not going to need that orange while she’s here.

“What I’m wondering is why you are here.”

“Oh, right, yes. Hollander is playing tonight, Montreal against LA. Of course you know that. We, um, the Bears, that is, have a couple of days off, Roz was coming up anyway, and Hollander invited me up so we could meet, formally, as Roz’s friend, which was nice of him.” He takes a deep breath, and quickly adds, “we hung out for a couple of hours, but he got called in early to do some last minute media shit, um thing, and just left like five minutes ago. Roz left with him to run an errand for Hollander and said he’ll be back in half an hour.”

“Okay.” Yuna nodes slowly. Marlow seems relieved.

“Have a seat Marlow. If Shane is happy to invite you over, I’m not going to hold a grudge either.” Marlow mirrors her movements and seats down on the living room sofa gingerly, all 6’3 of solid muscle barely making the cushions shift.

“Did you know about Rozanov and Shane?” Both Shane and Rozanov said they never told anyone, but is it possible for players on the same team sharing a locker room day in and day out to guess there’s something going on?

“No, absolutely no clue.” Marlow shakes his head exaggeratedly. “Roz is my best friend and I’ve known him for a long time, but he’s a very private person. I knew he had someone he talked to for many years, and that person lived in Montreal. Now I know it’s been Hollander the whole time —”

Yuna hums, encouraging Marlow to continue. 

“Um, they took a break, I think, Roz was really f-, um, beat up about it, during the Rose Landry mess, but it’s not my story to tell.”

“That’s very mature of you.” Yuna says. Marlow looks down abashedly and twists his fingers together.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. “It’s none of my business really, and I’d never push. He'd tell me when he’s ready. Not gonna lie, I was surprised when he told me about Hollander and him. But yah, it checks out, when you think about it.”

Yuna nods slowly, not entirely sure what she’s agreeing to. Does it really “check out”? She always thought Shane was very intense about Rozanov, but that’s just how one gets when serious hockey is involved. 

“Like I said, Roz’s my best friend. He’s a good guy. Not just empty words, but he’s there when it really counts. When my grandpa died a few years back, it was hard for me, especially when he was in the hospital. I couldn’t do anything to change what was happening and my schedule was crazy. And there was the man who introduced the joy of hockey to me, lying there looking so small…” He collects himself and goes on, “Roz went with me to the hospital, just to be there with me, and let me tell him stories about my grandpa, and later in hospice, he did the same, too. He also sent sh-, um things, to my parents and my sisters, after.”

Marlow shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t know what he’s like with Hollander, not on the ice, I mean. He’s nothing like what the rags make him out to be. And I’m not saying this to try to sell him to you or whatever. But, yah, he’s my f-, freaking brother. I just want to see him happy.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“I need to get going. You can let Rozanov – Ilya,” she corrects herself, “and Shane, if you see him, know that I stopped by and will see them after the game.” Marlow stands up with her, still uncertain where to put his legs and arms. 

Yuna picks up her Birkin and walks over to the door. Marlow is standing at the same spot when she turns around, “I’m happy to let this conversation stay between us.” She sees him nod numbly as the door closes. 

Rozanov isn’t watching the game from Centre Bell, for obvious reasons, but she’s glad that he’ll be watching it with someone who is a good friend.

Chapter 3: Shane

Chapter Summary

“Mom, it’s not really like that. I could tell you, he completes me or he makes me be the best version of myself – that’s what Ilya says to me all the time – but that’s just simply not true. On the ice, maybe, because he’s one of the best players. Actually, who am I kidding, he’s the only active forward in the league playing at my level. But in private, away from people and cameras, he’s just goofy and funny, and…”

Chapter Notes

Yuna’s going through it, but she’s really trying, experimenting with taking a back seat and letting others talk.

Shane

“Mom, it’s not really like that,” Shane says as he tries to squeeze himself more comfortably into the beanbag lounger in the family room of their Ottawa house. This is the largest adult size available and Shane still makes it look like he’s trying to fit into a kids chair.

The Voyageurs are playing the Centaurs tomorrow evening and Shane came in a day early so he could stay at his parents’ for a night. 

Well, Yuna had asked Shane if he could come in the day before so they could “hang out” for a bit like they used to when Shane was still a teenager. Shane probably wasn’t too keen, but he had agreed nonetheless, probably to avoid any further arguments as he ran out of excuses to try to spend as little time with his parents as possible. Maybe. It wasn’t until Shane was already driving over did Yuna call to let him know that David was going to be away that night at a conference in Toronto. It was last minute and we just forgot to tell you, Yuna said. It was not very believable considering who Yuna was, but neither commented on it.

Yuna doesn’t want to ambush Shane. Far from it. She wants to spend time with him and.. And what, exactly? She isn’t entirely sure. Like some families where the parents are friends with their kids? No, not like that and feels weird. She’s never had that kind of relationship with Shane and it’s likely not a good fit for them. But she loves Shane, unconditionally, not predicated upon winning cups or bringing home the partner she and David chose, and somewhere along the way they’ve both forgotten that. She told him as much when he walked into his childhood home, standing by the entrance awkwardly. Shane didn’t seem a hundred percent convinced but she saw his shoulders relax. That’s okay; she’ll repeat it until he believes her.

Dinner was a light affair of saba shioyaki, home-made pickled daikon, yasai itame, miso soup (although she substituted with firm tofu to increase the protein content and added extra kombu), and brown rice. There’s no dessert (Shane wouldn’t eat them anyway) but there were post-meal orange slices as per their tradition. Shane seemed content and happy to have something familiar from his childhood, even though it probably didn’t entirely align with his performance diet. Yuna counts that as a win. 

Satiated with warm food and nostalgia, they sit down in the family room side by side, or rather, Shane in the beanbag chair and Yuna beside him on the floor on top of a cushion, like they used to before Shane was drafted. It’s strange to think that they’ve had that beanbag for longer than Shane’s been playing NHL hockey, longer than he’s known Rosanov.

Yuna takes a sip of her hojicha and considers her words carefully. “ I’m truly happy for you, Shane. And I’m sorry I didn’t show it enough the first time we talked about it. Your dad and I hardly know Ilya, well, I know his hockey very well, possibly better than his coaches at this point, considering I’ve been reviewing all of his games from the last five years…” 

Fuck, she’s nervous and already screwing up. “But as a person, we don’t really know him; I don’t really know him and have misjudged based on what’s said in the media. You love him and that’s –” She pauses because she’s not quite getting the phrasing right, “that’s what’s most important to me right now. I want to get to know the real him, the person worthy of –” another pause, “the person you fell in love with.”

Shane wiggles in the beanbag, probably trying to get into a comfortable position. Maybe they are both too old for this and should relocate to the perfectly comfortable sectional, but Yuna didn’t want to interrupt Shane, who’s looking pensive. Expressing emotions is always a challenge for her, and that’s unfortunately one of the traits she’s passed onto Shane.

“Mom, it’s not really like that.” Shane whispers.

“I could tell you, he completes me or he makes me be the best version of myself – that’s what Ilya says to me all the time, which simply isn’t true. On the ice, maybe, because he’s one of the best players. Actually, who am I kidding, he’s the only active forward in the league playing at my level. But in private, away from people and cameras, he’s just goofy and funny, and… I’m not saying this right –”

Yuna waits. She wants to tell him, it’s ok, we don’t have to do this, or, maybe we can talk about it next time. But David has shown her over the years that sometimes it’s okay to struggle with putting words to feelings. Let people take the time they need, not everything is a rush or a competition, he said. She wants Shane to feel comfortable telling her important things; she wants to be there for him; she wants him to have the opportunity to tell her about Ilya with his own words. The brief silence is not uncomfortable, so she waits.

“Yes,” Shane finally says, “he makes me happy. Sometimes I feel I’m going to combust from the inside when I’m with him and untethered when we are apart. I know I’m not the easiest person to be around –”

“Oh, baby.” Yuna quickly reaches up and squeezes Shane’s wrist.

“I know what they say about me, mom, that I’m a hockey robot assembled in Canada. Mostly behind my back. Ilya lets me be me outside of hockey, although sometimes he makes fun of me, it’s never actually malicious, and he always makes space in his life for me. He notices little things about me without me ever saying them: like I don’t like beddings with any texture; I always use unscented products because I find most scents unbearable if they linger, but I actually like the smell of citrus; he secretly stocks up on blackberry ginger ale because I like them but won’t admit it to myself.” 

Shane’s face looks soft as he talks, like he’s perfectly comfortable in his own skin. 

“He complains about my diet but he makes most of our meals when we see each other now, meals that fit my performance diet. And sometimes he makes me relaxed enough to eat something not in my diet. He exists around me, forms an ever changing bubble around me, so that I can be braver and calmer with the outside world.”

Shane stops, and Yuna thinks perhaps he needs a drink, but he just stares at the can of Canada Dry in his hand morosely. 

“Here’s the thing though. Ilya cares a lot about me, heck, he’s planning to move to a terrible team so we can be closer. He’s sweet and funny, and a great person once you can see past all the assholery. But, I think none of that actually matters, probably since the first time I saw him. Even if he were really an asshole, even if he wasn’t a good person, I would still love him.”

“Okay, this sounds crazy now I say it out loud.” Shane lets out a laugh and slides down the too-small beanbag onto the floor. 

Yuna isn’t sure which part of it is crazy. That Ilya Rozanov sounds like the one of nicest men she’s met, that Shane has been in love with him for what sounds like a long time, or that Shane seems determined to love him regardless of…everything.

If there’s one thing she still knows about her baby, it’s that once he’s put his mind to something, there’s no force on this earth that will be able to stop him. Not those bullies with terrible parents from U7, the incompetent coach from Shane’s short stint in that one PeeWee team, or Mr. Tanner from Grade 11 Physics class who was determined to not let Shane get his high school science credit. 

“Okay.” Yuna leans forward to gather Shane into her arms. “I love you. I love you so, so much. Everything is going to be okay.” 

Shane squeezes her back and they stay like that for a long time.