Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, David Hollander & Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

David Hollander, Shane Hollander

Additional Tags:

Debbie The Lamp, Quote: Stupid Canadian Wolf Bird (Game Changers), Fluff, Humor, Blow Jobs, the cottage, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, David Hollander pov, Soft Ilya Rozanov, POV Ilya Rozanov, Come Swallowing, Autistic Shane Hollander

Language:

English

Series:

Part 3 of Lovely Lights

Stats:

Published: 2026-01-31 Words: 2,868 Chapters: 3/3

Stupid Canadian Wolf Bird Lamp

Summary

David Hollander rolls with the punches life presents, including his son dating Ilya Rozanov. David ends up helping Ilya pick out a lamp for his son.

Ilya Rozanov will stop at nothing other than get the best lamp for his boyfriend. When he spots one at a yard sale that looks like a loon he knows he needs to buy it. It reminds him of summer, of Shane's hands in his hair, of him cracking open his own heart and trusting Shane with the pieces, it reminds him of safety. He just needs someone to help him get it working again.

Chapter 1: Phone Call

David Hollander prides himself on being easy going. A real go-with-the-flow type of man. Nothing phases him, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.

He let his college friends drag him to parties and put drinks in his hands and while they all got trashed he picked girls off the bathroom floor and put them safely into a cab. 

He didn’t make a pro-hockey team? No big deal, he majored in sports journalism for a reason.

He let a young Yuna plan their first date, then their hundredth, then their wedding, only offering input when asked.

The reservation fell through for the honeymoon? No problem, they’ll spontaneously fly to Spain and stay in the first hotel he can find. It’ll be a fun adventure, he doesn’t know a lick of Spanish.

He let his toddler tell him exactly how to tie his skate laces before every peewee practice and retied them when they “felt wrong”.

Shane becomes the number two draft pick for the NHL and is a shoo-in for the hall of fame once he retires? Well, he always knew his kid was something special.

He moves through life like a leaf in the breeze, knowing where he’ll land, but not minding if he takes the long route to get there.

Until he goes to grab a phone charger from Shane’s cottage and finds his son pressed against the windows by none other than his famed rival, Ilya Rozanov.

That’s a game changer.

Suddenly his palms are sweating.

Suddenly he feels off-kilter.

Suddenly… he is very much phased.

David leaves the cottage immediately, rushing out to the car and driving off like he’s fleeing the scene of a crime. His mind races as he speeds along down the road, trying to rationalize this.

Shane had said he’d be alone, that he hated Rozanov, wait, did he ever actually say the words “I hate Ilya Rozanov” or did everyone just assume?

When he gets home he sits in the parked car for a long minute, trying to control his breathing. His son is probably gay, not a problem. He can easily live with that.

His son is dating (?) Ilya Rozanov… that one needs some time to sit.

Fuck, what is he going to tell Yuna?

He enters the house, a plan already formulating. He’s cool as a cucumber. He’s chill. Shane was out, Shane didn’t answer the door, no problem. Yuna won’t notice his uneasiness, his shaky hands. He’ll just go pour himself a drink and act like everything is normal. He knows nothing.

“Honey? What’s wrong?” Yuna says as he pours himself a very large glass of straight vodka. “Did you see Shane?”

He takes a very uncouth gulp. “Did I see our son? Yes.”

She raises both eyebrows, studying him. “And?”

“And nothing.”

“You’re drinking at one in the afternoon. What happened?”

David shakes his head. “Nothing.”

It takes twenty minutes for Shane to enter the house after him. Twenty minutes for him to announce “this is Ilya… Rozanov” and change David and Yuna’s entire world perspective.

After that, things go back to relative normal.

David adds a Boston phone number to his contacts, he buys more of the good vodka, and he starts tuning into the Boston games too. He learns a little bit of Russian, learns how to cook Ilya’s favorite meals, and learns how to live with room for two sons in his heart.

The next time he’s phased comes with a text message.

A photo of a wooden lamp, carved and painted to look like a loon comes through his phone while he’s at work. There’s no text, just the photo.

David frowns, then looks back at the name. 

Why is Ilya Rozanov sending him a photo of a rather tacky lamp?

Then his phone lights up with an incoming call.

“Hello?”
“David. Hi. Did you see my photo?”
“I did, yes.” He says tentatively.

“What are your thoughts? Will Shane like it? Is it too much? Is it not enough? I thought it, well, we have joke about loons…” The Russian trails off.

He looks around the office, nobody is nearby so he says, “Ilya, breathe. Why are you buying Shane a loon lamp?”

“He said he needed lamp. For, sensory?” Ilya says the word slowly, like he hasn’t heard it said before more than a handful of times and is unsure of the pronunciation. “Big light is too bright.”

“Oh, yes, that’s usually true. So you’ve picked out this lamp as a solution?”

“For cottage, yes.”

David clicks back to the photo. He studies it for a moment before raising the phone back to his ear. “I think it’s neat. Well made, has history.”

“Shane will like?”

“I would say so?” David says, though he’s not sure he’s ever actually taken note of his son’s sense of lighting decor. Is this something Yuna would know? Is he failing as a dad right now not knowing if his son likes bird-shaped lamps? “Are you going to give it to him soon?”

“I will wait until we are at the cottage. I need to get it working.”

“You bought a lamp and it doesn’t work?”

Ilya hums. “It was at yard sale. I took it home, plugged it in, does not work. Even changed bulbs!”

This, David can help with. He can support Ilya’s attempts at being a considerate boyfriend. “Look, I know a guy. He’s big into electrical engineering and shit but he technically has a degree in PR so… I don’t know, look he might not be any good, but he could take a look at it. He’s always rewiring stuff.”

“Excellent. Will you be at next Ottawa home game?”

“We can be.”

“I will give you lamp then, da?”

David tries to picture Ilya carrying a loon lamp into a hockey locker room and fails, so he simply agrees. “Yes, that will work.”

“Thank you, see you then.” Ilya hangs up.

David’s known this man in a capacity other than “son’s rival” for maybe two months, and already grown unspeakably fond of him. He hopes Shane keeps him around.

Chapter 2: Dating Apps

Chapter Summary

David has a little fun bullying his son's boyfriend.

Yuna can’t come to the next Ottawa home game, she’s made plans with her girlfriends for a spa weekend, so David goes alone. He watches the Centaurs lose miserably on home ice, though Ilya tries his absolute best, poor Dillion just cannot offer the support required.

David waits at his car for Ilya, pretending to be checking his phone as he leans against the hood like a teenager trying to act cool. He updates Yuna on the game, texts Shane a reminder to eat dinner, and then hears an enthusiastic shout and looks up.

Ilya comes rushing across the parking lot, cradling the lamp like a baby. It’s even swaddled up in a hoodie.

“Wow.” Is all David can say.

“Here, thank you for giving it to guy. He will fix it, da?” Ilya looks nervous and David isn’t sure if it’s being seen talking to Shane Hollander’s dad in public, or if it’s about the clear emotional investment he has in this whole lamp thing working out.

“He’ll do his best. Gary says it’ll probably be a few weeks, but I’ll keep you updated.”

He nods. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.”

 Ilya’s mouth quirks up, like he’s not sure how to respond to that. He squints at David, as if suspicious, then says, “For Shane. Anything for Shane.”

Maybe if he was Yuna, he’d say something moving. Something about Ilya being part of the family, just as much one of their sons as Shane is, but David has never been good at being emotionally open and available, never been the one to go to when you need unwavering encouragement, so instead, he finds himself saying, “Right, of course. For Shane.”

The lamp is heavy when Ilya passes it over, solid wood, and David smiles tightly at him before placing it on the floor of his car.

“Anything else you need?”

Ilya hesitates for a moment, seemingly torn between saying yes and no. “Do you know where else to find lamps? I’ve been to every yard sale. I’ve been to every store.”

“You need… more lamps?”

“For Shane’s. In Montreal. Just one.”

David considers. “Have you looked on Facebook Marketplace?”

“No?”

“I’m sure if you go on there and search for lamps something will pop up.”

“I search ‘lamps near me’ like on dating app? Swiping right until I find one?”

David does not want to imagine Ilya swiping right for anyone on a dating app. “Something like that. Then you message the seller and you two meet up.”

“Oh so exactly like dating app.” He quips.

“Do you have a lot of experience with meeting people on dating apps, Rozanov?” He says, shifting over to Protective Dad Mode just enough to tease him and still be scary. “When’s the last time you used one?”
Ilya actually turns paper white, eyes big. “I do not think-”

“You said summer before rookie year, yeah? How come I remember seeing so many articles about all the girls you were with?”

“Well, Shane had Rose Landry-”

“Mm, okay, avoid the question. Are you still on dating apps?”

Ilya looks stricken, like he wants to be anywhere else but in this Ottawa parking lot. “No! No, not since-” He fumbles around, as if unsure of an exact time.

David pounces on the hesitation, enjoying playing with Ilya just a little bit. “Surely not since you’ve started dating my son?”

A flip switches somewhere in Ilya’s head and suddenly he is deadly serious, voice steady and level. He makes direct eye contact with David as he speaks. “I would never hurt Shane. There were people before him, yes. People when we weren’t able to admit what this thing between us was, yes. But now there is Shane. Shane who is the only person I have ever loved, the only person I will ever love. There is no point for dating apps when I have him, and he wants me. He wants me and I would never risk, would never fuck up by looking for some quick fuck on an app with someone who means nothing.”

David grins, triumphant, and opens his car door. “I like you, Ilya. I’ll text you when the lamp is fixed.”

Chapter 3: Safety

Chapter Summary

Shane gets to see the loon lamp, Debbie gets a shout-out, and Ilya just really wants to please his boyfriend.

Chapter Notes

This takes place BEFORE Debbie's demise.

Ilya loves to win the Cup, truly. It’s a sensational feeling.

It feels pretty fucking good to watch Shane win it too.

Even better though? Receiving the text message “I’m here” when Ilya’s been waiting impatiently at the cottage for Shane’s arrival.

Shane opens the front door causally, as if this is a normal day leading up to a normal summer, and gets maybe two steps inside before Ilya has him shoved against the wall.

“Missed you.” Ilya murmurs, mouthing along Shane’s throat. He presses his tongue flat against Shane’s pulse point, reveling in the steady thrum of Shane’s heart under him.

“I missed you too.” Shane laughs, tilting his head back and grabbing a fistful of Ilya’s curls.

Shane works his hands under Ilay’s shirt, grabbing at muscle and leaving what will surely be angry red lines as he goes. He pulls the shirt off, then wraps his hands around Ilya’s arms and tugs him impossibly closer. Ilya keeps one steady hand on Shane’s hip, his other already working at Shane’s fly, trying to slip his hand under the waistband without having to distance himself.

Ilya carefully takes Shane apart in the entryway, surrounded by sunlight and fresh air and the calming lull of security. Nobody will see them here, nobody can wedge their way between them, nobody can analyze their every move, looking for a sign of their relationship. Shane lets him, rutting up into his boyfriend’s hand and moaning loudly.

Another perk of the cottage, no worrying about Scott Hunter hearing them from the next room over. 

Ilya finally gets Shane into his mouth, swirling his tongue and hollowing his cheeks, working quickly to get him off. His own dick is hard and aching but he will get to it later, right now it’s all about Shane, all about his pleasure, his release, celebrating his win.

When Shane does finish, Ilya swallows every drop, more than content to not let any of Shane go to waste. Shane looks down at him with blown pupils and smiles, lazy and relaxed.

“Hi.”

He wipes spit off his chin. “Hello, Hollander.”

“I won the Cup.”

“Did you? I hadn’t heard. This is big news.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Mm, but you love me.”

Shane shrugs, his head thudding back against the wall. “Maybe.”

“I have a surprise for you for working so hard. You will love me even more.”

“Oh? Was that not my surprise?”

Ilya gives him a wicked grin. “No. You never have to work for sex. Not from me.”

Shane laughs, loud and bright. It bounces around off the glass and fills Ilya’s very bones with joy and warmth. The mere idea of him being able to effortlessly make Shane Hollander laugh sets his nerve endings alight.

And he has all summer to do it.

They’re in no rush.

They can go slow with each other, be peaceful and trust the other will fill the silence with whispered promises of future dogs and rings and babies. They can stay up all night and have mind-blowing sex or simply hold each other and listen to the sound of their breathing. The sound of them, existing, together.

Ilya loves the summer. He will play on a shit team (though he really quite likes the coach and players), he will move to boring Canada, he will do anything Shane asks, just so he can have these summers forever.

Including buying odd lamps.

Now Shane already has Debbie, she sits happily in Montreal in the living room next to the couch. She’s a large round orange lamp covered in little white flower designs and with an unremarkable lamp shade. Ilya finds her charming, Shane calls her ugly.

But this loon lamp?

This one means something.

It is a reminder of their first week at the cottage, of stupid Canadian wolf birds calling out into the night, of campfire smoke, of confessions, of Ilya letting Shane in. Allowing himself to be permanently and irrevocably entangled in Shane’s heart. A reminder that they’re choosing each other, this life, a future, a chance to be together.

He’s placed it on the kitchen counter, so that it’s unavoidable and Ilya can’t pretend he doesn’t see it when Shane inevitably asks where it came from.

And Shane does ask.

Shane complains he’s thirsty after their entryway tryst and Ilya’s heartbeat rushes in his ears as Shane takes him by the hand and leads him into the kitchen.

“What is that?”

“A lamp.”

Shane shoots him a glare. “You already gave me a lamp, remember? Debbie? Giant orange behemoth that I use every night?”
“This one… is for here. Is special.”

“It’s a loon.”

He wonders, heart traitorously thumping behind his ribs, if maybe Shane doesn’t remember the loon. If it didn’t mean as much to him, to hear Shane quite literally chirp back as a way to comfort Ilya. 

So, in hopes of jogging his memory, Ilya mumbles, “Stupid Canadian wolf bird.”

Shane’s mouth does something funny, a mix of a twist up in amusement and a tightening shock of pain, and he looks hard at the lamp. “Where did you find this?”

“Yard sale.”

“Why did… why did you buy it?”

“It… reminded me of summer. Of… of safety.”

Shane goes very still and very quiet. His voice is a whisper when he speaks again. “Of me?”

“Yes.”

Shane lifts the lamp off the counter and makes his way not towards the living room, but the bedroom. He lays it on the bed, the lampshade rattling and sticking up awkwardly. He unplugs and removes the lamp currently on his bedside, places it on the floor, then replaces it with the loon. He adjusts the shade with tender care, hand running over the grey fabric almost lovingly, with a soft smile. He plugs it in, Ilya holds his breath.

Shane flicks the little plastic switch on the yellowed cord, and the loon lamp illuminates the bedroom even though it’s barely dusk. A fuzzy, honey-yellow hue fills the room, reminding Ilya of days spent in his grandmother’s in Russia.

“Will you name this one?”

“No. ‘Loon lamp’ is fine.” Shane hasn’t turned to look at him.

“What do you think?” Ilya is betrayed by the waver in his voice.

“It’s lovely.”

And oh, if that isn’t exactly what Ilya needed to hear.

“You were right. Reminds me of safety. Of your head in my lap as you learn to enjoy staring at a fire, of you saying you love me for the very first time, right here in this room. Of me staying up all night, trying to come up with a plan so I could keep you.”

“You have me.”

“I do.” Shane finally looks across the room at Ilya, golden light making his eyes shimmer a brown that Ilya wants to drown in, and smiles. “Are you done giving me lamps as gifts?”

“Nyet, probably not.”