Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

Canon Compliant, Scene Expansion, Autistic Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov Has PTSD, The Hospital Scene Heated Rivalry, Episode: s01e05 I'll Believe in Anything (Heated Rivalry), I wanted to write floaty shane, and also ilya's internal struggle to break up with shane, but he can't because these two are both dumb and in love, Idiots in Love, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander's Freckles, I love these two idiots, Happy Hollanov Wedding Anniversary

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-07-11 Words: 2,051 Chapters: 1/1

I Swore Eyes Were Made to Cry, But You're the First Person That I've Seen, Who's Proven That Might Be a Lie

Summary

Rewrite or expansion on the Hospital Scene after Shane get taken out by Marleau.

Or

Shane being floaty as fuck and Ilya fighting himself.

Notes

Happy Hollanov Wedding Anniversary to all those who celebrate! This has been languishing in my drafts waiting to get posted and today happened to be the opportunity for that. Yes the title is based on Alley Rose by Conan Gray. I feel like it's appropriate given that one edit to the song on Tiktok. I love Conan Gray's music so much and feel like so many of his love songs can be applied to Hollanov. Hope you enjoy!

Ilya’s POV

“Ilyaaaaaaaa~” Shane’s voice rings out much louder and somehow more adorable than usual. It would have been more grating especially because of his lack of sleep.. if it was anyone else, if it wasn’t precisely the person he was worried about. The door is closed quietly behind him. He motions with his lips for Shane to quiet down, but given the uncharacteristic reaction, he abandons that plan before the sound leaves his lips.

“I, um, I just wanted to..” What was he even doing? He’s the captain of a rival team, visiting the captain of the other team in said rivalry, in the hospital, that was put there by his own teammate. Composure, Composure. Quiet it. He works his jaw nearly imperceptibly, “Are you okay?” Ilya finally manages to ask.

“Concussion and a fractured collarbone. Out for the playoffs,” a smile starts to spread across the other man’s face, “But…” the smile lines reach those damn freckles.

Ilya finishes the sentence for him, “Could have been worse.” Much worse. He was lifeless on the ice, not even groaning, limbs folded in on each other, not in the usual calm, relaxed way he got to see.

Shane repeats the phrase but faster, “Could have been worse,” he says nodding his head.

“Marleau feels terrible,” his jaw tenses. Shane’s blue, white, and red jersey laying on the ice replaying on his mind. “He did not mean to hurt you.” His tongue feels so dry in his mouth.

“I know. Part of the game. We all get our bell run eventually, right?” How is he smiling? Why is he smiling at Ilya every time he looks up across at him? How is he supposed to respond to that?

“Hey.”

“Heeeeeeyyy~”

He came here to do one thing. But with the stupidly cute freckled face in front of him and now, a non-slinged arm, reaching out tugged at something. Something that shouldn’t matter, something that can’t matter. It’s almost like Shane can see right through him sometimes. See the distance.

But his feet move of their own accord, if nothing but to make him quiet down so no one finds them here, alone, one on one. He quickly responds with repeated okays and this time the shushes do leave his lips. Getting to Shane’s bedside and grasping his one available hand with both of his. He was warm, his one hand was warm.

The boring boy immediately responds by closing his eyes and blurting out, “Yesss. Bet-teerrr.” The walls Ilya had built around himself at the door thoroughly broken immediately seeing Shane relax. Shane’s chest rises high and falls as he breathes out with a sighing hum, like Ilya’s hands on his can relieve all the tension bound up in him.

“You scared me,” Ilya says before he can even realize it’s leaving his lips.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text you last night.” Of course he is apologizing. Apologizing for getting slammed by Marleau.

“No,” the sunlight dances on Shane’s skin and sweeps across his hair, even in this place. “It’s okay,” Ilya says with a gentle shake of his head.

He can’t help himself. He gently brings a hand up to Shane’s cheek. Grazes the ball of his thumb across the other man’s freckles and then the back of other four fingers down the side of his face. Would he ever be up this close again? Should he study the man’s face more?

“I was excited for last night,” Shane starts, “I’m mostly mad at Marleau for fucking that up,” the man says bringing his eyes up to meet Ilya’s. The relaxation is seemingly over as the toothy smile returns.

“He feels really bad,” Ilya reassures.

Then the eyes leave again, wandering somewhere different, unable to keep looking at Ilya as he speaks. “You know. I had a whole plan to ask you something,” Shane says, pulling them up to meet his gaze again.

Ilya’s mind reels, he was here to do two things. He can’t get side tracked, not now, not after realizing how much he cared. “Maybe it’s better if you just rest now.”

“I was gonna ask you-“

He tries to interrupt, “Hollander.”

Shane looks away again. Then back right at him, “Will you come to my cottage this summer?” Brown beauties, raw and nearly begging as Shane looks at Ilya. Smirk hanging off his face as his head leans back.

“Don’t go to Russia.”

He somehow continues, “Come to my house.”

And all Ilya can do is look at him. He tries to swallow but the man keeps talking.

“We’ll have so much fun. It’s so private no one will know.” What is happening.

“Hollander you know we can’t do that.” He says attempting to interject again. Why are you asking me to do that.

“We could have a week… or even two?”

“Be completely alone.” As if they usually weren’t.

“Together,” the man says breathlessly.

Ilya’s eyes dart over Shane. Searching for something, anything other than painkiller induced bliss and confidence overwhelming the man’s adorable face.

“Maybe. Maybe,” he blurts out in quick succession, what has gotten into Shane? What has gotten to Ilya? He did not come here for that. To even think about that opportunity and yet this man, high off of his beautiful ass, just throws the most insane idea at him. Maybe. Maybe he is allowed to hope. He rubs Shane’s hand reassuring him. The man looks satisfied at that answer, smiling like he just had a perfectly crisp ginger ale, having not gotten a yes, but also, not gotten a no either.

—
Shane’s POV

The bounce of golden curls through the small opening of the door and door frame shakes him from his thoughts and the border between consciousness and sleep.

His voice sounds before he even has the time to think about it. Not that he’s capable of thought right now anyways, “Ilyaaaaaaaa~” It comes out sing-songy and so sweet it could bleed honey if pin-pricked.

Being high off his ass on painkillers makes any mask he could conjure up not even make it an inch. He is grinning so much. He can’t hold back the joy at Ilya’s presence. The man’s face is calm and stoic as usual, Shane is so happy his parents are not here in this moment. Ilya is so beautiful. Shane was definitely too loud saying his name since the man tries to hush him. Volume control… is.. for time.. he’s.. in control. Control, that’s a funny word. Haha, Ilya’s in front of him, so handsomeeeee.

“I, um, I just wanted to..” Fuck him? Ah, they can’t do that right now, concussion. That’d probably hurt the collarbone too. Oh yeah, he’s injured. “Are you okay?” The undercurrent of concern is already present. Of course. He was injured on the ice. Ilya just got back from burying his Dad, of course he’s worried. Just explain what happened. Facts will help. Facts help him. Besides, it wasn’t too bad.

“Concussion and a fractured collarbone. Out for the playoffs,” thank goodness he can take a break. A smile begins to spread across his face, “But…” Ilya is here checking on him. All he can do is look at the man. He’s here. Not at a game, not in a hotel room or their houses. He’s here at the hospital checking on him. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

“Could have been worse,” Ilya finishes his sentence. Oh yes definitely could have. But it wasn’t aggressive to hurt him. Ilya is checking on him, that’s riiiiiight.

“Could have been worse,” Shane says faster, nodding to make sure Ilya knows he agrees. He did get injured after all. It probably scared him. That wasn’t his intention.

The light is so bright still, augh. His eyes flutter closed for a second. “Marleau feels terrible. He did not mean to hurt you.”

He opens them again and looks at the man across the room at door. Ilya’s so tense still. Try and help him dowwnnnnn. “I know. Part of the game. We all get our bell run eventually, right?”

Goodness. Is he allowed to look that handsome? Be that attractive while caring about Shane? Shane just can’t stop looking at him. He’s mostly getting what he wants right now. Ilya, alone, with him. But he’s still so far away. Closer would be nice. Contact. Oh yes, skin contact. “Right,” Ilya replies instantly. That probably helped.

All Shane can think about is having him closer and how he seems off. Not like off, just like off, Ilya’s body at the door doesn’t seem to be the only thing that’s far away. Maybe Ilya needs help. What does Mom do when Shane’s brain is out of his body? Oh yeah!

“Hey.”

“Heeeeeeyyy~”

Shane says almost loudly, reaching out. Volume control and thoughts of them being discovered not even a blip on the radar of his mind. The only dot he can see is the yellow haired, pale, and toned man in front of him. That begins rapidly approaching, as rapidly as the quieter okays and shushing escape his wondrous mouth.

Ilya takes Shane’s free hand in both of his and Shane drinks up the smell of the other man, warm hands engulfing his singular one. “Yessss. Bet-teerrr,” he replies doing a poor attempt at Ilya’s accent and definitely having an answer to Rose’s question now. It was better, it was always better. Why had he even tried with someone else? The contact was so soothing. It always was. A quiet hum escapes him. His body falls the rest of the way into the bed and pillow. Eyes closing so he can better focus on the sensation of Ilya’s hands around his. The roughness of the calluses, the heat radiating off of them, the gentle force tethering him to his body.

“You scared me.” He can feel Ilya’s eyes holding a gaze over all of him.

Ohhh fuck. That is what he forgot. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you last night.” There was something. Thing.

“No, it’s okay.” Was Shane thinking last night? He had to be conscious.. right?

The feather light touch of Ilya’s hands are on his face is there for just a moment.

Last night? Oh yes last night. That’s not how last night was supposed to go. He had a plan. “I was excited for last night,” Shane starts, “I’m mostly mad at Marleau for fucking that up.”

Ilya immediately replies, “He feels really bad.”

Ilya was supposed to come over and he was supposed to… oh yes!! Now! Ilya’s here now! “You know I had a whole plan to tell you something.”

Shane finally meets Ilya’s eyes and they look away. Noooooooo. Then they’re back and they’re serious… in the off way again. “Maybe it’s better if you just rest now.”

He’s has to do this. If he doesn’t it’s the end of the season and Ilya is gone to Russia again, “I was gonna ask you-“

“Hollander-“ Ilya attempts to interrupt.

No, this isn’t the time. Shane will not accept the out, “Will you come to my cottage this summer?” He finally gets out. Ilya’s eyes look at him and he can’t take it, closing his own eyes again, “Don’t go to Russia.” Stay with him.

“Come to my house.” Stay with him.

“We’ll have so much fun.” Together.

“It’s so private. No one will know.” It will be like usual.

“Hollander, you know we can’t do that,” Ilya attempts to push back.

Shane groans out of annoyance, there’s no reason he can’t, it’s like usual but… for longer, “We could have a week or… even two.” That’s all of their vacation anyway.

“Be completely alone,” like usual.

“Together~” he breathes out, he can see Ilya’s face staring down at him but he can picture the man everywhere in his home. The bed, the couch, the fire pit, his arms. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm. Hehehehe.

The other man’s face breaks from the held back one, something in between a grimace and probably closer to a smile tugs at his lips and eyes as, “Maybe, maybe,” falls from his lips.

Shane’s eyes close as he goes back to imagining Ilya at the cottage, with him. The man’s hand is rubbing his gently. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no either, and that’s good. That’s good. They’re good.