Rating:

Not Rated

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

M/M, Multi

Fandom:

Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types

Relationships:

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

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Yuna Hollander, David Hollander

Additional Tags:

Momager Yuna Hollander, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Married Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Drabble Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Language:

English

Series:

Part 12 of a little more romeo, a little more juliet

Stats:

Published: 2026-05-20 Updated: 2026-06-01 Words: 3,160 Chapters: 2/4

addendum

Summary

a collection of cut story lines, additional scenes, and random shit that didn't make it into the main story. I would Not Recommend reading as a standalone unless you really want to.

Notes

none of these things are canon to the main story/timeline, they're all things that got written and cut for one reason or another. Any additional one-shots will be a different part.

first up: yuna finds out and breaks into the cottage (written feb 17, takes place sometime after 2015 but before david finds out about hollanov)

Chapter 1: deleted storyline - yuna

“—yeah, that would be great. The code is 1221, so don’t accidentally set off the alarm if you get there before it’s done.”

Yuna paused in the hallway at the sound of Shane’s voice. He was staying with them for a few days to work on something before he took off back to Montreal for the rest of the summer. As much as she wanted him to stick around, he insisted on not overstaying, despite the fact that he spent summers growing up here. Something about the conversation she caught lingers in the back of her mind. 

Later, while Shane is helping David with dinner, she slips into his room, determined to figure out what he was talking about. His Montreal apartment didn’t have a code to get in, so had he bought another property without her noticing? She was surprised that he hadn’t built a cottage after spending eight months looking into land and contractors. 

There, on Shane’s desk is a manila folder. The tap is labeled, in her son’s handwriting, The Cottage. She flips open the folder to find paperwork. She doesn’t absorb any of the information on the page except the address. It’s a location a few miles down the road, a plot that had been sold a few years ago. What was Shane doing with this paperwork? Had he actually bought a cottage near them? He couldn’t have had it built unless he’d somehow managed to hide the process from them.

Yuna closes the folder and backs out of the room. She doesn’t forget the address, or forget the gate code she overheard. 

David tries to talk her out of doing anything when she tells him her suspicions the next day after Shane has left, but she can’t get it out of her mind. 

So, against David’s better judgement, she drives out to the cottage listed under her son’s name. There is a gate when she pulls in the long drive, so she puts in the code, 1221, and despite being alone, tries not to let the shock show on her face. The driveway past the gate is equally as long, the cottage tucked back away from anyone even knowing it existed. 

Yuna parks. The cottage looms in front of her, half glass and half dark stained wood. It’s gorgeous, standing tall and proud. She can see the lake in the distance and a small garden peeking out from the other side of the house. 

She closes the car door and marvels as she approaches the front door. She really didn’t have a plan for is Shane was here. Technically, she didn’t even know that this was Shane’s cottage except half a phone call and an address on a file in her son’s room. 

Raising her hand, she pauses, then tries the handle. It opens easily for her and she pushes her way in without a creak. The maintenance screams Shane. 

Yuna stands in the kitchen, twisting her head every which way, taking in the sleek appliances and the dark marble countertops. A noise behind her whips Yuna’s head around. 

Instead of Shane, Ilya Rozanov is standing in the hallway, between the kitchen and the rest of the house. He looks as surprised to see her as she is to see him. There’s nothing to say, her mouth opens and closes while her brain remains unhelpfully blank. 

—

Ilya stared at Yuna Hollander, standing in their kitchen. in their cottage, that Yuna Hollander shouldn't know about. 

“You should not be here.” There are a lot of questions he could ask, and he’s going to get as many answers as he can before he has to have the inevitable conversation with Shane. Unless he just wakes up curled around his husband and the last few minutes have all been a dream, “How did you get in?”

Yuna is still staring at him. “Rozanov? What are you doing here?”

“How did you get in?” he asks again, feeling his gaze sharpen as he stares at his mother-in-law. She must sense that she’s the one more wrong-footed here because she finally answers. 

“Shane has talked for years about building his own cottage. I didn't think he got around to it, but I found the address. He was on the phone a few days ago, talking about how it would be done soon–” she cuts herself off, trying to maintain some dignity. “What are you doing at Shane's cottage?”

“did not say it was shanes.” he didn’t. they had been lying by omission for years, and that gave them practice. state facts and let everyone else come to their own conclusions. “you should not be here.”

“do you think-“ is as far as yuna gets in what ilya is sure was firing up to be one hell of a speech before ilya cuts her off. 

“I think you do not want to know what I think. You should not be here, you were not invited.” Ilya is not impressed, but he refrains from saying she is not welcome. He knows what phone call Yuna is talking about. Their security is in the process of being updated, it will be done soon. Shane had given him the new gate code on the same phone call. Luckily, not one of their usuals, so that code would not work anywhere else. Yuna looks like she is holding back words, straining behind her teeth. 

“You find address, not told. Use code that maybe works.” If Ilya can lay out the damning evidence, maybe his uninvited guest will see herself out without a fuss. “Do not yell at me in my kitchen.” 

Yuna seems to realize she has lost. She has used circumstantial evidence and luck to essentially break into a house that she assumed was her son’s. Even if Shane had been the one to greet her, she had still gone behind his back and shown up uninvited. She considers, not for the first time, if she has assumed something and gotten it wrong. Shane's always been interested in real estate, so helping his friend buy or build a house wouldn’t be out of character. But why would Rozanov need a house in Ottawa?

“You’re right. I assumed this was Shane’s cottage, I assumed a lot of things. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry.”

“You should go.”

Ilya lets out the breath he was holding as soon as she’s out the door. He lets his body sag, strings cut, once he sees Yuna’s car disappear down the driveway. He’s not worried about her coming back, but he does need to wake Shane and tell him what happened. 

He’s not sure if he expected his husband to side with his mother, but Shane is as angry as he is. The cottage is their safe space, the one place they can let proof and evidence scatter and spread around a space without worrying about cleaning up or hiding. 

“Fuck, yeah,” Shane says, “she must have overheard that phone call. I can’t believe she’d just show up. That’s—” Shane shakes his head. 

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” Shane laughs bitterly. “Change the gate code ASAP would be a good start. At least she doesn’t know I’m here. She’ll just assume that I was helping you with real estate or something, but seeing you must have unnerved her.”

“She was not expecting me,” agrees Ilya. 

“No, she was expecting me,” says Shane. “I don’t know what I would have done. I’m impressed you were able to keep it together, one, and do it in English despite just waking up, two, and three, I don’t know, I’m just impressed. Thank you. I don’t think I could have gotten her out as efficiently.”

Ilya nods, “Is not big deal.”

Shane folds himself into Ilya’s arms, “Yes, it is. But thank you anyway.”

Chapter 2: deleted storyline - yuna (alternate version)

Chapter Summary

Yuna breaks into the cottage: take two - no one was there

Chapter Notes

another way the break in could have gone! also, happy pride month!

Yuna stares around the kitchen. It’s immaculately clean, just like the rest of the house she can see. The messiest thing is the front of the fridge, littered with magnets, scraps of paper, and a few photographs. Stepping closer to get a good look, she sees Shane in one of the polaroids. Written on the strip of white under the photo, in an alphabet she doesn’t recognize, are two words, мой муж, in a handwriting she also doesn’t recognize. The picture shows Shane with his arm outstretched, standing as far from whoever is on the other side of the camera as possible. His fingers are interlocked with another hand, which Yuna notes is rather large. Her son’s face is split in a wide grin, or possibly laughter, head thrown back, and, she suspects, tugging the other person along. She doesn’t think she has any pictures of Shane looking so happy. The rest of the clutter on the fridge is also in that same unknown language, the few English words consist of mostly groceries or random reminders that don’t make sense to Yuna. 

She wanders into the living room, following the instinctive layout of the house, in search of answers. There’s an ugly orange blanket laying over the couch, but a touch tells her how soft it is. The low bookshelf boasts an almost overflowing number of books. Getting closer reveals her son’s hockey books, but they’re confined to one shelf. The other two shelves are filled with a mix of literature in two languages, English, and another with that same alphabet she doesn’t recognize. On the very bottom shelf, which she crouches to look at, is littered with dictionaries and workbooks with titles like Learn Russian in One Year! and Pусский Grammar Workbook and Cryllic Alphabet Made Easy. 

Was Shane learning Russian? It would certainly explain the books and the fridge, but why did he need the sheer volume he had? Some of these books looked old. 

Standing with cracking knees, Yuna makes her way towards the hallway. There won’t be answers snooping around the living room, besides, from this angle, she can see frames, which means pictures. Or information. 

What she finds instead stunns her. Yuna isn’t prepared to find a blurry shot from Shane’s last two Juniors games, taken from whatever video had been made of each competition. The next picture is from draft day, but what confuses her is the way the picture is centered. Shane has taken care to crop out the third pick, but made no effort to do the same to Rozanov. The picture Rozanov is grinning at her son, one finger in the air. Shane has a more neutral expression on his face, but the ghost of a smile twitches at the edge of his lips. He has two fingers in the air. 

After that is a shot from that commercial before their rookie season. Both boys bent over and laughing. 

The next is what must be the pictures Rozanov took during that awful sketch at the awards. 

Yuna stares at them longer than she means to. Why would Shane have framed these? Are they connected to the Russian language books? Is this some psychological something her son has about the rivalry? She didn’t think…

The sheer bizarreness of the next frame draws her attention, effectively cutting off her train of thought. It’s certainly not something she’d ever imagine Shane purchasing, much less displaying in his home. Its gaudy—no other word to describe it. The 3D cursive proclaims Just Married in baby blue font across the top, with different wedding paraphernalia decorating the sides of the frame. 

What really draws her attention once it’s grabbed is the picture. Pictures, because while the frame is only made for one, there are three polaroids arranged against the white paper. 

The first is of Shane smiling with Rozanov leaned back against his chest. They look cozy, with Shane’s arm wrapped around the other man. Shane’s handwritting under the picture reads: night before!

What did that mean?

The next two are obviously taken one after the other. Shane is standing pressed against Rozanov’s side, grinning wider than any time Yuna’s seen. Rozanov’s teeth are on full display in an equally giddy expression. They’re looking at each other. The last is of the two of them kissing, the next step from the last picture. 

Shane’s handwriting again reads: husbands!! under one and 6.27.14 under the other. 

Yuna gapes at the pictures, going back to the others to see if they hide any clues. She does find something she missed before. A small plaque adhered to the bottom corner of each frame with a short few words and a date. In order, they read:

First meeting, 12.28.08

First kiss, 6.27.09

First date, 7.19.10

Engaged, 6.21.14

Married, 6.27.14

Without looking at the next few pictures, she seeks out the rest of the plaques. 

Cottage, 12.22.14

First anniversary, 6.27.15

Same team, 9.04.16

First (Second!) cup, 6.3.17

Yuna’s hand flies to her mouth, taking in the descriptions and dates. This was a whole part of her son’s life laid out that she’d never known about. She’s almost scared to look over the pictures, to see her son’s smiling face directed at his rival, someone she thought—the whole world thought—he hated. They hate each other, that was as common knowledge as knowing the puck goes in the goal, anybody who knew even the smallest but about hockey could tell you that. 

She can’t help when her eye catches on that last photo, of Shane holding up the first cup he won in Boston. Rozanov is holding the other end, helping Shane lift it over their heads. Once again, they’re grinning at each other. There’s a second picture below it, of them kissing, still holding up the cup, except this picture is taken from behind, revealing the rest of the locker room, which is full of the other Bears. Whatever this was (and Yuna refused to process the implications yet), their team knew about it. 

Bracing herself, she starts at the beginning, reviewing each picture and plaque with fresh eyes. She puts everything out of her mind, looking at everything as though through the eyes of a stranger. 

Their first meeting, the International Prospect Cup, 2008. Yuna remembers. The first time they ever played against each other. 

Then, naturally, after two kids meet, they have their first kiss. Shane and Rozanov’s had been the next time they met, during their draft. Or had it been after? Before? Yuna had absolutely no clue. 

Next comes their first date, a commercial advertising the rivalry. Yuna had been beside herself when she’d gotten the email informing her that it would no longer be two separate shoots, instead they would be working with Rozanov on the same set. Had the boys known? Shane hadn’t, he’d been surprised, but now that Yuna thought back, not particularly upset about the change in plans. 

Did they see each other at the second IPC? There was no picture or event for it in this timeline. 

Then there’s a four year jump, and, Yuna double checks the date, an exact five year jump, between the first date picture (and the first kiss, respectively) and the next two, which are only a week apart. 

Four years, her son and Rozanov had dated, according to the pictures. And the reason they hadn’t dated longer is because, as the next picture showed, they'd gotten married. Yuna stares at the stiff photograph of the rivals posing on stage, labeled engaged. 

Who had proposed? Shane? Or had Rozanov bought a ring to present? Was it planned, whoever won the cup got to propose? Or was the decision something else, unrelated to hockey? She couldn’t imagine Rozanov getting on one knee, surrounded by flower petals, nor could she see Shane doing the same thing. Not to Rozanov. 

Then there were the first non-professionally taken photos, labeled with the Just Married frame and Shane’s careful handwriting, taken only a week later. Dressed in nice clothes and standing in what she assumes is a courtroom, though the first picture is taken elsewhere. Another location she doesn’t recognize, but wants to call Shane’s apartment. Except, the layout is wrong. 

Yuna finally looks at the picture labeled Cottage, dated around Christmas that same year. It’s not another polaroid, but she doubts the picture still exists anywhere else. Shane is on Rozanov’s back, standing on the porch of this very cottage, arms around his neck. Rozanov is supporting his legs and also grinning wide. 

They look happy, she thinks. Both of them. 

Then, another set of pictures, taken in summer. Polaroids again. One of a yellow cake with many thin layers, Rozanov giving the man behind the camera a sappy look. Another of Shane laying on Rozanov’s chest in a hammock—it must be outside. The third, the boys again outside, Shane in the corner, taking a selfie while Rozanov waved from the lake. 

The final picture in the set was of the boys curled together in bed. Yuna blushed, though there was nothing illicit about the picture, just the two of them shirtless (and obvious), with Rozanov spooning her son from behind and pressing a slightly blurry kiss to his cheek from above. Shane’s face is happily, and sleepily, pressed into the pillow under the force of it. 

Yuna feels the beginning of tears prickling in her eyes. She can’t deny what’s right in front of her, which is her son’s marriage to Ilya Rozanov. The life he built with his… with his husband. 

The last two pictures are of Shane’s time in Boston and their other ‘firsts’ they’d gotten together. She couldn’t bear to study them like she had the others. In a bit of a daze, Yuna keeps walking down the hallway, realizing she’s gone the wrong way when she is stopped by a half-opened door. She’s stopped in front of the bedroom.

She sees the made bed, the nightstands, a dresser out of the corner of her eye. The half of the room with the closet and any additional furniture is blocked from view, but Yuna takes no steps to correct this. There’s a hoodie laying at the end of the bed, it’s taunting her, daring her to step closer, flip it over, assign an owner. But Yuna knows better. It doesn’t matter whose name is on the back, because there’s too much evidence scattered around this cottage to deny the truth. There’s a small stack of books on one nightstand, but Shane’s glasses sit on top of a singular book on the other. Shane’s side of the bed boasts a large pump bottle Yuna refuses to look closer at, while what must be Rozanov’s side is a mess of pens and scraps of paper and a small duck figurine sitting on top of the books. Her leg twitches, as though an aborted command passed through the nerves.

Instead, she turns and heads back for the exit. She’s done enough snooping.