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

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Worried Shane Hollander, Protective Shane Hollander, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Post-Sochi 2014 Winter Olympics, Scandal, inspired by a documentary, (it's called icarus. it's on netflix.)

Language:

English

Series:

Part 10 of love-a-nov (hollanov one-shots)

Stats:

Published: 2026-05-25 Words: 1,980 Chapters: 1/1

icarus, baby, you’ll fly one day

Summary

Shane arrives at Ilya’s penthouse with a touch of anxiety and no idea what to say.

Ilya has been ignoring him since the publication of the report that revealed years of doping by the Russian national athletics teams. He may have read Shane’s messages, but he hasn’t responded to any. Shane has no idea how he’ll react to Shane’s sudden appearance at his home, but he has to try.

Or: How the boys navigate the 2014 Sochi doping scandal when they can hardly handle their own situationship.

Notes

This was inspired by the documentary Icarus on Netflix that covers the real-life Russian Olympic doping scandal. I wanted to explore what that might have looked like for these boys, so here's a fic about that.

For those who don’t know about the Russian doping scandal, the summary (that you should know for this fic) is this: After the 2014 Sochi Olympics, a German documentary came out about athletes on the Russian national team doping (using performance enhancing drugs). The documentary triggered an official investigation into the Russian team for doping and cheating the tests designed to catch it. Shortly after the official report was released, the International Olympic Committee banned the Russian national team from competing.

Hope you enjoy!

Shane is not at home when the news breaks. Rather, he is in the midst of a road trip on the west coast, far from either the safe emptiness of his apartment or Ilya himself. He isn’t sure why he feels so compelled to call Ilya when the news about Russia’s doping scandal hits, but he does. There’s an itch under his skin that makes it feel like an urgent need. Instead, because he can’t escape somewhere private, he has to settle for a text.

Jane: Just heard the news. Did you know about that?

Three hours later, when he can’t help but overhear some of his teammates talking about the news, another thought strikes him. His fingers type out the question and hit send before he realizes that he probably won’t get a truthful answer to it.

Jane: Were you part of it?

He hates himself as soon as the message is delivered and follows it up promptly.

Jane: Not that I think you were. Just curious, I guess

Jane: Nevermind. That was rude. Hope you’re doing alright

He doesn’t hear back. Ilya reads the messages and says nothing, not even when Shane scores a hat trick that night during the game against San Francisco. Instead, Ilya leaves him on read and Shane thinks he probably deserves it.

Of course Ilya didn’t dope. Of course he wasn’t part of that. He lived in Boston year-round; he had only been in Russia long enough for the Olympic games last year. There was no way Ilya had been drugging himself with the performance enhancers just for his national team. Besides, Shane would have noticed. He read the entire report and watched the documentary that had triggered the official investigation. If Ilya had been doping, Shane would have seen the bruises from the needles.

When the International Olympic Committee officially bans the Russian national team four days after the report comes out, Shane sends another message that is left on read and ignored.

Jane: I’m so sorry, Ilya

He doesn’t know if Ilya cares that he’ll likely never play in another Olympics. He doesn’t know if Ilya is even following the news about his home country. It’s very likely he is. It’s difficult to ignore the news when it’s making headlines on every sports channel and every Russian hockey player is being asked about it. He’s surprised that Ilya hasn’t been asked anything yet.

Except, when he realizes that Ilya hasn’t been asked anything about it, he also realizes that Ilya hasn’t been doing media since before the news dropped. He hasn’t been spotted behind a camera in days. Not even to go out clubbing after Boston won their last game. He’s been conspicuously silent, and not just in their chat. 

There isn’t anything Shane can do about it. He’s still on a road trip and even once they get back, it’ll be another week before Montreal plays Boston. Maybe by then the news will have died down. (Shane knows it won’t have.) Maybe by then Ilya will have responded to him. (He won’t hold his breath.)

Predictably, in the time that passes before Montreal’s next game against Boston, the news only grows bigger and Ilya seems to get quieter. He hasn’t responded to Shane which isn’t unusual, but he still isn’t doing media. Shane’s team is also talking about how his social media has been dead. They’re calling it a sign of guilt. Shane thinks it’s the most worrying sign of them all, but not because it implies Ilya is guilty.

He texts Ilya about his post-game plans and is unsurprised when the messages are also left on read. On the ice, he tries to get an answer out of Ilya, but the man is unusually tight-lipped around Shane and particularly explosive with everyone else. He gets sent into the penalty box more than he has since his rookie year, and Shane’s worry grows with each penalty call. When the game is over―Montreal winning by one point―he doesn’t bother changing before reaching for his phone.

Jane: I’m coming over in an hour

It’s all the warning he’ll give. Ilya will be at home or he won’t, but Shane is pretty sure he isn’t going out. 

Shane gets through his media scrum faster than he ever has. His answers are clipped and short, but nevertheless professional. He ignores any questions about Russia, Ilya, or anything that could lead to either of those things, and is out of the arena before his hair has dried.

Exactly one hour after texting, Shane arrives at Ilya’s penthouse with a touch of anxiety and no idea what to say.

Ilya has been ignoring him since the publication of the report that revealed years of doping by the Russian national athletics teams. He may have read Shane’s messages, but he hasn’t responded to any. Shane has no idea how he’ll react to Shane’s sudden appearance at his home, but he has to try. Plus, if Ilya accuses him of anything, Shane can just say he was there for their usual hook-up; that he doesn’t care about the doping scandal. It would be at least partially true, even if Ilya is unlikely to believe him.

“What do you want?” Ilya opens his door with a scowl but lets Shane inside.

“Hey!” It comes out too chipper and Shane fights a grimace. “I, uh, wanted to come check on you.”

“I am fine.”

“Okay,” Shane draws out. He hopes it doesn’t sound too doubtful. “You didn’t respond to my texts, though. I was worried.”

“How should I respond, hm?” Ilya asks sharply. He turns away but doesn’t stop talking. “If I say no, Shane, I did not cheat, you will not believe me. If I say yes, Shane, I did cheat, then you report me. There is no win. Just lose. Like tonight, yes? Just lose, lose, lose! Ilya Rozanov always loses.”

Shane blinks at the outburst. Not for the first time, he doesn’t know what to say. It’s been a while since he hasn’t known how to respond to Ilya, though, and he can’t say he misses the feeling. 

“Have you… talked to anyone about this?” Shane hedges. Ilya turns around to glare at him but Shane doesn’t falter. “Just―it kind of sounds like you should.”

“Who do I talk to?” Ilya demands. “What do I say? No, there is no one and nothing. Is fine. I am fine. Now why are you here?”

“I’m here because I’m worried about you,” Shane says carefully. “I’d be pretty upset if I learned Canada had been forcing their athletes to take drugs. I just thought―I don’t know. That you might want to talk to someone about it?”

“And that someone is you?” Ilya is still glaring at him, but Shane doesn’t let that deter him.

He shrugs. “Why not?”

Ilya’s face shifts. The glare disappears and for the briefest of moments, he looks like he might cry. The look is gone soon, but the one that replaces it doesn’t make Shane feel better. It’s devastated, full of hurt and shame, and Shane suddenly worries that maybe Ilya has been doping. He immediately determines that he cannot ask. He can’t know―not for his own selfish reasons, but also because he can’t hurt Ilya by accusing him of it. 

“You will not understand,” Ilya says quietly. “You do not get it.”

“Then tell me,” Shane says. “I’ll listen.”

Ilya’s jaw tenses and then releases. Tenses again. Eventually, he opens his mouth and, very quietly, he says, “They tried to force me. Is why I stayed with my father. They were going to force me.”

Shane blinks.

“What?”

“You read the report?” Ilya asks. Shane nods. “So you know coaches helped. Teammates too. They were all―Not all,” he corrects quickly, “but many of them did. If you did not, it was like… like you were outsider. I was outsider. My teammates would not talk to me.”

Shane is struck with a sudden understanding. The Russian hockey team had been terrible. They hadn’t meshed well. Hadn’t communicated. Perhaps it was because of this, Shane thinks. Because Ilya―and maybe, hopefully, some of the other Russian players―refused to take the drugs and were ostracized because of it. 

“It was okay.” Ilya shrugs like the weight of the world is on his shoulders and Shane fights the urge to hug him. “I came back and it was okay. But now there is report and my teammates here do not want to talk to me either and it―I did not do it. Why do they punish me for not doing it?”

“Shit, Rozy.” 

Shane gives into the urge and surges forward to hug Ilya. It doesn’t even take a beat for Ilya to accept and although he might have an inch or two on Shane, he sinks immediately into Shane’s touch and clings. 

“It’s not your fault,” Shane soothes. He decidedly doesn’t run his fingers through Ilya’s curls―that feels like too much―but he does let his hand curl over Ilya’s nape and tangle in the few curls that rest there. Ilya clutches at his shirt and he isn’t crying, but Shane thinks he might be close to it. 

“It is not fair,” Ilya says, voice tight. “I did not do it.”

“I know,” Shane agrees. “Your teammates know it too.” God, he hopes they do. He can’t imagine how lonely it would be if his entire team thought he were a cheater. “It’s just―hard, right now. It’ll blow over soon and it’ll be okay.”

“Will not be okay,” Ilya protests into the crook of Shane’s neck. “Only Marly does not hate me.”

Shane doesn’t really know how to refute that. Given how Boston’s last few games have gone, he doesn’t think that’s completely true. However, it’s entirely possible that because of Ilya’s history with Boston, the team is just better at playing through the tension than the Russian Olympic team had been. This team knows each other inside and out. The Russian team hadn’t. Between the two teams, it isn’t all that surprising that Boston could still get a win or two despite not trusting their captain.

For Ilya’s sake, Shane hopes that he’s wrong. It’s only been two weeks since the doping news broke. It’ll die down soon enough. Hopefully.

“It’ll blow over,” Shane repeats. He dares to press a kiss to the hinge of Ilya’s jaw when he feels Ilya start to protest again. “You’ll see. I promise.”

“Well,” Ilya teases after a long breath, “if you promise.”

Shane rolls his eyes and says nothing. If Ilya needs to joke to feel better, Shane will let him joke. He’ll just also keep holding Ilya until he pulls away. Shane won’t be the first to let go.

“Thank you,” Ilya says a long time later. Shane’s knees are not-quite locked and his feet hurt, but he refuses to move despite how long they’ve been standing there. “You are a good friend, Shane Hollander.”

“Yeah?” Now it’s Shane’s turn to joke. “Just a friend?”

It works at changing the mood. Ilya nips at his neck, letting out a low growl and spinning until he can pin Shane to the nearest surface.

“Yes.” Ilya leans back to press a wet, lingering kiss to Shane’s lips. “Just a friend.”

Shane hums and moves his thigh to press between Ilya’s. Teasing.

“Well in that case,” he hums, “guess I should go. Since I’ve done all my friendly duties.”

He makes it less than one step out of Ilya’s arms before he’s being dragged back into a tight hold and kissed breathless. They don’t talk about the doping report for the rest of the night, and when Shane leaves, it’s with kiss-swollen lips and a promise from Ilya that he’ll talk to Shane about it anyway if he needs to.