Rating:

Mature

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, Background & Cameo Characters, Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Kip Grady

Additional Tags:

Social Media, Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Crack Treated Seriously, by which I mean a fully formed fic with maybe the dumbest premise I’ve ever come up with, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, advertising as foreplay, flirting is a competitive sport, and so is being dueling spokesmodels, TBH this is like 90 percent plot 10 percent porn but I'll tag as needed, Post-Season/Series 01, Crack treated like royalty, Crack treated like a succulent gourmet meal, Mixed Media, Humor, Sexual Content, Facials, All-Star Weekend, Protective Ilya Rozanov, Coming Out, the inherent toxicity of Twitter, I've been reliably informed that you should have a coffee on hand while reading this one

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-02-15 Completed: 2026-03-13 Words: 21,618 Chapters: 7/7

Best Served Hot

Summary

The camera is zooming slowly in on Shane, sitting on a bench in a locker room with his gear most of the way on, starting to lace up his skates. There’s a steaming hot coffee in a paper cup and a donut set neatly on a napkin on the bench beside him. Text appears in the space above the items and proclaims: Extra fuel, for when it’s time to cream Boston.

Dunkin’ Donuts puts Ilya in an ad campaign. Tim Hortons responds in kind. After years of on-ice rivalry, this might actually be the thing that causes the hottest point of contention.

Chapter 1: Spark and Tinder

Chapter Notes

I put in a line about Dunkin’ in one of my other fics, tripped and fell and now I’m writing this. Also, I’m from New England. People pointing out that Ilya would 100% be in Dunkin’ ads is like catnip to me 😌

Account names and player OCs are random, not real people (hopefully).

The ad campaign is inescapable. Any time Shane is in the U.S.— which is quite often, given their game schedule— images of Ilya follow him through airport terminals and on sidewalks and once, while on the team bus cruising at highway speeds, ten feet tall on the side of a semi truck. He can’t go online without seeing him at least once. And it only gets worse the closer they are to Boston, where full billboards of Ilya looking unfairly sexy with his smirking lips pursed around the orange straw of an iced coffee are erected everywhere as if to mock him.

And Shane isn’t the only one who has noticed.

“Oh, come the fuck on,” Hayden says as he pulls open the curtains to their latest hotel room.

Across the street, one of the billboards is staring directly back at them. This one, beside the familiar photo, proclaims 'Boston Hockey Runs On Dunkin’.’

“Insufferable asshole,” Hayden grumbles and closes the curtains again, shuttering out Billboard Ilya’s view. Shane feels a tingle run across his skin, as though he can still feel him watching.

“Can’t escape the guy,” Shane says, already grabbing for his phone in his jacket pocket.

Little more than an hour later, Ilya is inside him. Their game is the next day, and it isn’t like Shane hadn’t played sore before. And Ilya is particularly fired up tonight.

“Fucking take it, Hollander,” Ilya groans, his hand on Shane’s back pressing him firmly to the mattress.  Ilya is moving at an unrelenting pace, his hips snapping in a way that rattles against Shane every time. After spending the summer together feeling like they had all the time in the world to slow down their usual pace, the time they’ve spent away from each other once the season started has only catapulted them back into old habits. Texting each other to meet up, trading hotel room numbers, fucking quick and rough. There is a time and a place for tender lovemaking, and the middle of the season isn’t usually it.

“Fuck, Ilya,” Shane gasps, voice half muffled by the bedding his face is mashed into, which is, right now, just the way he likes it. He’s been looking forward to this all day, and seeing Ilya smirk at him from that damn billboard has only accelerated things.

“So fucking good,” Ilya breathes. Shane feels the familiar way that his rhythm starting to catch, his strokes become slower but more insistent. Shane arches his back a little more, just right for Ilya to have complete access. Ilya pounds into him a few last times and then buries himself deep with one final gasp and comes undone. He collapses down against Shane’s back as he rides it out, kissing and nipping at any skin his mouth can reach there.

Shane is right on the edge himself, nearly tipping over that line untouched when Ilya pulls out of him. It won’t take much now.

“Over,” Ilya says, still breathless and pushing at Shane’s hip until he flips down onto his back. Ilya jumps back in immediately, his mouth finding its way onto Shane’s skin again and forging a trail downwards. Shane watches him the whole way until Ilya wraps his lips around him and swallows him down and Shane throws his head back against the pillows at the sensation.

“Oh my god,” he pants, “I’m not— I’m gonna—”

Ilya takes his mouth away. “So soon?” he asks in a way that Shane finds both infuriating and infuriatingly attractive. He kisses at the insides of Shane’s thighs, his curls tickling against Shane’s sensitive skin.

Through great effort, Shane picks up his head to look at him. “Don’t be an asshole,” he says.

“Okay,” Ilya simpers and lowers his mouth down again. He keeps eye contact as he works, his mouth still somehow maintaining that cocky tilt to it even as he does so. Shane thinks about that billboard again, the image of Ilya looking carefree and flirtatious superimposed over the sight of him right now. One more swirl of tongue and he’s falling to pieces with Ilya still holding on as starbursts flash deep within him and behind his eyes.

Shane is barely aware of Ilya crawling his way back up to the head of the bed, puddle of jelly that he is. “Good?” Ilya asks, as though he has to, and Shane can only find it in himself to nod. “Good,” Ilya says, and gets up out of bed.

Shane floats in the feeling while Ilya cleans up or finds pants or whatever the hell it is that he’s doing. A minute or an hour later, Ilya returns and presses a glass into Shane’s hand. Shane sits up and accepts it.

“Water?” he asks. It doesn’t hurt to double check before gulping it down.

“Yes,” Ilya confirms, “Not vodka. You want vodka? I have that, too.” Shane shakes his head no and Ilya climbs back into bed beside him, his own glass of water half drained in his hand.

Shane sips at the water and then laughs a little to himself. “How about some coffee?”

Ilya raises one eyebrow. “Yes, I also have that. Got fancy new machine.”

Shane shakes his head. “No, I’m just kidding,” he says, “I saw your ad again earlier. They put a billboard of you right across from our hotel.”

Ilya studies his face for a moment before understanding washes over it. “Oh,” he says, “And you like this ad? Is good picture of me, yes?”

“Started thinking about it when you were blowing me,” Shane admits, and tries to hide his face by taking a sip of water.

Ilya, the little shit, likes this information just a bit too much. “Oh, you really like this picture.” He leans back against the headboard, self satisfied to the extreme. “Okay. I will take more when they ask.”

“That picture,” Shane says, “Has half the internet talking about what you can probably do with your mouth.”

“A lot of people can appreciate my mouth,” Ilya says, “You’re the only one who gets to have it.”

Shane pulls him into a kiss that proves it.

Rozy’s Wife @meghaneightyone • 19m

Just saw that new Rozanov ad and uhhh… anyone else wishing they were a straw right now? 

23 comments, 104 retweets, 1.5k likes

“They’re offering a considerable amount of money,” Shane’s mom says like she knows he is planning on saying no to the offer.

“I don’t know,” Shane says, rubbing at his eyes and glad that she isn’t there with him in person to remind him not to touch his face like that. His phone sits in its holder on the car dashboard, the engine turned off and the air around him cooling.

“I know we usually aim for higher luxury,” she continues, “But doing something that appeals to everyday people is a great way to reconnect with your fans. And since Ilya’s campaign is already getting social media attention, they want to jump on this now while the moment is right. You know you really can’t underestimate the power of social media.”

“Yeah, mom, I know,” he sighs.

“And I know Metros PR has been trying to get you to engage more online, so this will be perfect,” her pitch goes on, “Plus, you’ll be representing Canada.”

“Mom,” he tries.

“It’ll be stirring up the rivalry narrative, sure,” she says, “But sometimes you have to give the people what they want.”

“Mom!” he says more insistently. She finally pauses for long enough to listen, so he says, “I’ll think about it.”

“Good,” she says, “I’ll forward you the email.”

“Okay,” Shane says, seeing the notification appear immediately. “I need to get in to practice, I’ll look at it later.”

“Give it some serious thought,” she says, “It would serve Boston right after last week.”

“We don’t hate Ilya, remember?” Shane says, though he knows she knows.

“Honey, we love your boyfriend Ilya,” she assured him, “But Captain Rozanov of the Boston Raiders? Fuck that guy.”

Despite himself, he laughs. “Mom, you can’t say things like that…”

“Well, you know what I mean,” she dismisses, though she has the wherewithal to sound a little embarrassed.

“I’ll think about it,” Shane reaffirms, and grabs his phone to head into the facility.

Shade Hoelander @shanehoelander2424 • 43m

NOBODY TALK TO ME IM GOING TO BE LOOKING AT THIS ALL DAY
[image]

64 comments, 378 retweets, 5.5k likes

Someone wolf whistles and the away locker room explodes into even more noise as Shane enters. They’re playing Pittsburgh tonight, which means they need to be on top of their shit. And they would be, barring one major distraction.

“Looking good, Cap!” someone yowls from across the room, and from the image currently filling Hayden’s phone screen, he can see why. The ad has gone live. The photo they’ve chosen for it is a headshot of Shane holding a paper coffee cup. He’s got milk foam on his upper lip and he’s licking it off, one eye squeezed shut and a playful expression on his face. It’s sexy in kind of a cute way; he’s pretty sure that was the part of the shoot where he started thinking about what Ilya’s response when he finds out about it is going to be. They’ve paired the photo with the tagline ‘Lattes On Me’ and a special promotion on espresso drinks at Tim Hortons any time the Metros win a game. The ad is seductive, and a little silly, and looks just enough like Ilya’s that people will get the reference, but not so exact that they’ll get sued. It’s a good photo.

“I’ve never been more proud to be Canadian,” Hayden tells him with a friendly slap on his shoulder.

“I’d be making bank with a face like that, too!” someone else calls out, and it’s immediately met with laughter and cries of “Nobody wants to see your ugly mug, SlimJim!” from JJ.

“At least you’re all speaking out of admiration,” Shane says casually as he sets his bag down. “Wouldn’t want you to be jealous.” It’s a light chirp, but it gets the job done. They hoot a bit more, and then they can resume focus on getting ready for the game again. Shane takes his phone out of his pocket and, predictably, has a message from Ilya, accompanying a screenshot of the ad.

Lily
My lawyer will hear about this

Jane
You like it?

Lily
Yes
How dare you

Jane
Wish me luck in my game?

Lily
No
Hope Pittsburgh wins
Go Puffins

Shane laughs to himself and locks his phone. He knows this is not how Ilya would text him if he were actually mad. In fact, he would bet the photo was having the same sort of effect on Ilya that the Dunkin’ ad had on Shane. He can’t wait to see that reaction in person or, maybe, on the phone later tonight. For now, he has buy one, get one espresso drinks to win for some Metros fans.

“You are trying to get in on my territory?” is the first thing that Ilya asks him when he picks up the facetime call.

“No,” Shane says innocently. “Remind me how many Dunkin’ Donuts locations there are in Canada, again?

“What do I care?” Ilya sniffs, “Is boring country for boring people.”

“Oh, I’m boring you?” Shane asks, “Better hang up and let you get some sleep then.”

“No, I lied,” Ilya says at once, “I am wide awake. Photo is good, almost as good as mine.”

“Almost?” Shane asks.

“Almost,” Ilya grins. “All that photoshoot practice, you are basically model now.”

“You’ve done your fair share, too,” Shane points out.

“Yes?” Ilya says as though Shane is saying something overly obvious. “We are hot. People want to see us.”

“So humble,” Shane compliments with an eye roll. “So you think the photo is hot, then?”

“Of course,” Ilya says easily, “Should be me licking those lips, though.”

Shane is not too prideful to admit to himself that this is exactly why he called. The rest of the team is out celebrating their win, and will probably be out for a good long time. Hayden had not-so-subtly implied that he knew what Shane was going to do with his solo hotel time, and Shane had told him to fuck off. He wasn’t wrong, though. And Hayden had agreed to fuck off for two hours, minimum.

Shane plans on putting that time to good use.

Hot Hockey Goss ✓@MLHbutpetty • 2h

Who wore it better?
[image][image]

130 comments, 1.2k retweets, 12.5k likes

• Feeling Pucky @bbly28996 replying to @MLHbutpetty • 1h
  
  [gif]
  porque no los dos?
  
  2 comments, 8 retweets, 769 likes

“Rozanov passes to Marleau, who hooks it back to Rozanov. Rozanov might be going for another— he shoots, and scores! Hat trick for Rozanov, that one’s going in the highlights for sure.”

“Must be all that coffee he’s been drinking lately.”

“Haha. You might be correct, Robert. Pretty effective marketing, if you ask me.”

“And then there’s Shane Hollander’s answering campaign. What do you think: sincerest form of flattery, or just a mocking money grab?”

“Either way, it’s just like the guy to keep the rivalry alive without saying a word.”

“Always in the headlines, those two. Looks like the ice is clear, we’ve got a line change on the Detroit side, they’re looking for any way to turn this one around…”

Dunkin’ ✓@dunkindonuts • 3h

Congrats to @ilyarozanov81 we knew you had it in you

20 comments, 322 retweets, 9k likes

 

Ilya Rozanov ✓@ilyarozanov81 retweeted @dunkindonuts • 2h

You’re welcome

265 comments, 12k retweets, 73k likes

The camera zooms in on a single puck, sitting on a line on the ice. From out of frame, a stick appears and hits the puck just right. The camera cuts to the puck sailing into an empty net. It cuts back to the unseen player, now working his way down the line hitting another puck, and then another. Each one flies into the net. The hits pick up speed, slap shot after slap shot. Then he gets to the last one in the row and pauses just before impact; it isn’t a puck at all, it’s a filled chocolate frosted donut resting on a Dunkin’ napkin. The player’s stick leaves the frame. The camera cuts to Ilya Rozanov standing back up from bending out of frame, donut in hand. He takes a huge bite and chews, and then wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb to swipe away some chocolate frosting and vanilla filling, licking just a little from his thumb in the process. America Runs On Dunkin’ fills the screen, not quite hiding Ilya’s smug look.

Just when Shane thinks the hype over their matching set of coffee promotions is dying down, Ilya has to up the ante. Alone in his apartment, he watches the commercial twice through, and then the ending another time and he isn’t proud of it. Then he texts Ilya.

Jane
Another one?
And the Boston crème, really?

Lily
Yes I thought that was good touch
You like?

Jane
It was fine

Lily
Was fun to film
Ate many donuts
When can I expect yours?

Jane
Never?

Lily
Booooo
I don’t believe you

Shane locks his phone and sets it down beside him, if only to stop himself from watching through the commercial again. He doesn’t need to keep adding fuel to this stupid rivalry narrative. Sure, they are actual rivals when it comes to hockey, but shouldn’t they be shifting the tone a little bit in anticipation of starting the charity together some day? And maybe not flirting via dueling advertising campaigns that people might interpret as mocking?

Shane might not post online all that much, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t spent a lot of time lately scrolling through what people have to say about him and Ilya, separately and together. He even logs into an alternate account to protect himself against accidentally liking things he shouldn’t from his official page, where he (or his mother) mainly posts about game results. It isn’t good for his mental health to get trapped into social media holes like this, and he knows it.

As far as he can tell, most people are taking this at a surface level— two hockey legends cashing in on the same moment. A few diehard fans either of each of them or the coffee brands themselves are genuinely fighting in every comment section, without fail, about who is doing it better and how much the other one sucks. Once, Shane stumbled across a group of people that were convinced that he and Ilya are a couple and had scrolled through pages and pages of content in a blind panic until he realized that the rest of the internet treats those fans like deranged nutjobs. It’s too bad looking at those posts makes him feel like all of the air is being squeezed out of his lungs by force, because he’s seen a lot of really cute edits of himself and Ilya that way. However, plenty of people also seem to think he and Hayden are a secret couple so he mostly stays clear of those people entirely. 

His phone buzzes again.

Lily
Keep playing with me
I want more good photos of you ;)

Jane
I already send you so many photos

Lily
Yes
Very sexy even with face cropped out
But I like your face, I want more model Shane

Ilya shouldn’t still be able to make Shane blush like this with just a few texts. And yet.

Jane
If they ask, I’ll think about it

Lily
Good

A brief pause between messages, and then:

Lily
Can I have more of other pics now?

Jane
And what do I get?

Lily
This cock
[image]

Shane’s resolve crumbles quickly.

The first time Shane sees the newest ad in context, he is with his team in the airport and they’re getting ready to fly to Boston. It’s been a little over a month since he’s seen Ilya in person and not only is he aching with longing, but he also has been looking forward to seeing Ilya’s reaction to Shane’s coffee rebuttal. The Tim’s team had reached out, after all.

There is a large light up screen beside their terminal, which is cycling through a series of ads and informative messages from the airport itself. And then, just as they get settled into their seats to wait for boarding, the display changes to one with the familiar Tim Hortons logo scrawled across the bottom and a recognizable figure taking up most of the rest of it. The camera is zooming slowly in on Shane, sitting on a bench in a locker room with his gear most of the way on, starting to lace up his skates. There’s a steaming hot coffee in a paper cup and a donut set neatly on a napkin on the bench beside him. Text appears in the space above the items and proclaims: Extra fuel, for when it’s time to cream Boston.

Shane has mostly been zoning out, deep in his head about game strategy and how he would maximize his time with Ilya, but he sits up as soon as he sees the ad. He’s seen a small proof of it in his email for approval before, but this is the real deal. His sudden attention gets Hayden’s attention, and swiftly the whole team sees it. They cheer and call out hell yeahs and razz him in equal measure until one of their coaches snaps at them to quiet down and at least pretend they know how to act in public. When the ad comes back around, that doesn’t stop a few of the younger guys from running over to take selfies with it before it changes again, though.

“I think I saw a Tim’s back in the main terminal,” Hayden says, “You think if you went back there, you could get us all free coffee?”

“Not on your life,” Shane says with a laugh and a shake of his head. He can only imagine the swarm of fans that would descend upon him if he tried that. As it is, their commotion has attracted the attention of a few people, and he’s learned to spot by now when people think they’re being sneaky about taking pictures of him. He puts on what he hopes is a pleasant face and readies himself to meet a few people and sign a few autographs in the half an hour until their plane boards.

Sara Schneider @s_schniedes • 54m

guys i think the metros (by which I mean SHANE HOLLANDER) are at the gate next to mine!! do i go say hi y/y?
[image]

16 comments, 27 retweets, 568 likes

• Feeling Pucky @bbly28996 replying to @s_schniedes • 50m
  
  What happened to asking before taking photos of people in public?
  
  3 comments, 12 retweets, 75 likes
• my name’s not rick @pitterpatrick94 replying to @s_schniedes • 49m
  
  Ask him to sign a donut
  
  4 comments, 23 retweets, 210 likes
• Hat Trick @hattie_mason5439 replying to @s_schniedes • 48m
  
  Girl if this is your chance to become a WAG and you miss it I’ll never forgive you
  
  6 comments, 4 retweets, 122 likes

Sara Schneider @s_schniedes • 41m

UPDATE: he was really nice
[image]

93 comments, 140 retweets, 4.5k likes

• Shade Hoelander @shanehoelander2424 replying to @s_schniedes • 37m
  
  brb, seething with jealousy
  
  3 comments, 24 retweets, 105 likes
• Hat Trick @hattie_mason5439 replying to @s_schniedes • 35m
  
  He looks like he smells good
  
  18 comments, 7 retweets, 84 likes
  • Sara Schneider @s_schniedes replying to @hattie_mason5439 • 33m
    
    HE DOES
    
    12 comments, 48 retweets, 890 likes

Casey St. John ✓@itspronouncedsinjin_57 • 36m

Me and the rooks stanning our cap
[image]

280 comments, 1.4k retweets, 8.5k likes

• Shade Hoelander @shanehoelander2424 replying to @itspronouncedsinjin_57 • 29m
  
  Tell him he looks handsome
  
  23 comments, 12 retweets, 682 likes
  • Casey St. John ✓@itspronouncedsinjin_57 replying to @shanehoelander2424 • 25m
    
    We always do!
    
    45 comments, 94 retweets, 1.6k likes

Ilya doesn’t have to go looking for Shane’s latest ad, because people start tagging him under it immediately. As he eats his pregame lunch, Ilya scrolls through post after post comparing the two of them. Most are (correctly) saying that Ilya’s commercial was better, although he also doesn’t like when people are too aggressive about attacking Shane either. He has to stop himself from replying on more than one occasion.

There’s a notification at the top of his screen— an email from the Dunkin’ team that starts with New Concept: Firing Back, which he doesn’t feel like clicking on now. His agent will handle it anyway.

He clicks back to his main feed and thinks for a long time before deciding what to post.

Ilya Rozanov ✓@ilyarozanov81 • 9m

I like when people try to keep up with me. It means I am in first place ;)

64 comments, 2.5k retweets, 16k likes

Then he messages Shane, because that will be faster than if he had even tagged him directly in the post.

Lily
Check twitter

Jane
Why?

Lily
)))

Jane
Oh, that’s how you want to play this?

Lily
Yes

And then it’s not long before he refreshes and has a reply from Shane under his post.

• Shane Hollander ✓@shanehollander replying to @ilyarozanov81 • 4m
  
  We’ll see about that.
  
  25 comments, 1.6k retweets, 2.5k likes

Ilya grins down at his phone like a maniac.

Oh. It’s on.

Chapter End Notes

I’ve never done this kind of mixed/social media integrated fic before. I hope the formatting is okay for y’all! I use a screen reader sometimes and anything too elaborate tends to mess it up, so I’m trying to keep it relatively simple.

Writing this is how I learned that I had Dunkin’ blocked on Twitter 🫢

Next chapter coming soon! Leave me a comment or kudos if you enjoyed 💖

Chapter 2: Kindling

Chapter Notes

I planned for a certain number of chapters, but this one was becoming beastly so I split it for pacing

(just a lil bit of spice here 👀)

“So,” Ilya leans in close to Shane at the faceoff, “You’re planning on creaming me?”

This is one of his go-to tricks, say something to destabilize his opponent right at the moment that requires the most focus. It doesn’t always work on Shane anymore. This time it does.

“Shut the hell up,” he says back, but wobbles as the puck is dropped and loses it to Ilya handily. But he isn’t about to let the game go that easily.

The game is brutal, as it often is against Boston. Shane takes a few rough checks, nothing he can’t shake off, and treats this like it’s a playoff game, even though it’s only early December. Ilya tries to make a few more references to donuts and cream a few more times throughout the game, and Shane does his best to ignore him.

Hot Hockey Goss ✓ @MLHbutpetty • 1h

Do you prefer your rivalry— oops, we mean coffee hot or on ice?

246 comments, 3k retweets, 19.5k likes

“Looks like Hollander had his Wheaties this morning.”

“I think you mean his Timmy’s, Rob.”

“Haha, yes that’s true.”

“Smart move from those companies to get in on the rivalry of the century, I feel like just looking at the two of them on the ice together has me craving a hot cup of coffee.”

“That’s the big question, Jim, are you picking Tim’s or Dunkin’?”

“Is that even a question? We’re in Boston after all.”

“You are not wrong. Coming into the third, score is tied three to three after a goal from Pike, great assist by St. John at the end of the second. Both sides are playing an impressive game, Marleau still seems a little gun shy about getting close to Hollander after his involvement in last year’s season ending injury, but Rozanov doesn’t look like he’s pulling any punches.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less. The energy from this crowd is incredible, Boston seems ready to bring this one home…”

“We could have met at my house,” Ilya says as he slips into Shane’s suite.

“Told you, I’ve got an early flight out tomorrow,” Shane says as he crowds into Ilya’s space. “And why waste the room upgrade?”

“And hotel fucking is exciting, yes?” Ilya plays with one of the strings on Shane’s hoodie. Shane shrugs and doesn’t disagree. Ilya pulls at the string and Shane moves easily forward until their mouths are on each other. It’s passionate and hungry, but neither of them are moving too quickly tonight. “How is your shoulder?” Ilya asks when he finally moves away.

“Needs rest,” Shane says, “But fine.”

“Would not have checked so hard if you let me take puck,” Ilya huffs.

“Hey, don’t be pissy just because you lost,” Shane says.

“Who is pissy?” Ilya asks innocently, “You promise to cream us, right?”

Shane’s face warms. “I knew you’d watch it immediately,” he says, a thought he’s had since he had gotten off the plane earlier to messages from Ilya goading him into posting anything more than a retweet or game stats on Twitter for the first time in over a month. “So what did you really think of it?”

Ilya pretends to consider him before saying, “Could have been sexier. But I like catchphrase. You think of this?”

“No, they did. My mom almost vetoed it.” The TV version of the ad also includes a voice over of the same words, but not by him. They’d asked him to, but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to make himself say it, and declined.

“But that is my favorite part,” Ilya says.

“Of course it is,” Shane says, because it’s secretly his favorite part, too.

“Gives me ideas,” Ilya drops his voice low and presses a few fingers against Shane’s chest. He steers him against the nearest wall, not even attempting to get them anywhere close to the bed, and drops to his knees right there and slides the waistband of Shane’s joggers down.

Ilya keeps a firm grip on one of Shane’s hips while he works his mouth over him and coaxes him up to full hardness. His other hand snakes up between Shane’s legs and plays at his entrance, like Ilya wants to remind him of where he’ll go later, like this part is the appetizer and not the main course.

“Oh, fuck,” Shane breathes and lets his head thunk against the wall gently. His hands find their way into Ilya’s hair and it takes every ounce of restraint in him not to tug or push or make any kind of move that will get Ilya going already. Ilya gets the hint anyway.

His pace is casual at first, but builds slowly in speed over the next several minutes until Shane has his fingers gripped tight into Ilya’s curls. He knows by now exactly how to touch Shane to drive him wild, how to swirl his tongue just right. And then Ilya slips one finger inside and Shane feels like his knees might fall out from under him.

“Ilya,” he manages to moan out, “I’m close.”

Ilya pulls off and says, “On me.”

It isn’t a very frequent thing for them, and Shane will only let Ilya do that to him when they’re already in the shower, but through the haze of lust Shane understands what Ilya is asking for and why. It’s hot, but also so fucking stupid, and he’s already too far gone to care. Ilya uses his hands to get Shane the rest of the way there, lets Shane spill onto his mouth and around it and make a mess of his attractive face, and all Shane can do is brace his hands against the wall and let himself be carried away at the sight of it.

When Shane comes back into himself enough to look again, Ilya is blinking up at him with his pupils blown wide and his chest heaving. He swallows, licks his lips, swallows again, mouth curling into a satisfied smile. He gets to his feet and goes into the bathroom while Shane continues to work on not letting his legs buckle under him. He hears the water run and then turn off again, and when he returns to the room his face is clean.

“Let me know when you are ready for more,” he says pleasantly.

“You’re going to have to give me a minute,” Shane pants.

“We have all night,” Ilya says, and strolls his way towards the bed. “I said ideas. I have more than one.”

Shane hasn’t even caught his breath completely by the time he’s following.

Shane snuggles in close to Ilya’s side. The sweat on his skin is starting to cool everywhere except the places they’re touching.

“That was,” Shane struggles for words other than, “Really fucking hot.”

Ilya hums softly in agreement. “Could probably go one more round,” he says sleepily, “But you are responsible captain with early flight tomorrow.” It’s a bluff and they both know it; they absolutely could not go another round with how exhausted they are. As it is, Shane probably should have been more careful with his shoulder. He’ll have to ice that later.

Shane shifts experimentally, feels a little twinge. “I’m going to feel this tomorrow,” he says.

Ilya traces his thumb lazily over Shane’s side. “What else will you feel tomorrow?” he asks, and then laughs when Shane swats at him. Shane is going to be sore in several places, and he knows it. “Is good. Give you something to think about on plane.”

“Fuck off,” Shane says with a laugh. This is absolutely not what Shane needs to be thinking about while surrounded by his teammates at 30,000 feet.

On the nightstand, Ilya’s phone buzzes, as it has several times in the last hour. He picks it up and glances at it, before locking the screen again and setting it back down. As he does so, Shane catches sight of a slew of Twitter notifications. Shane has those turned off for a reason.

“Everyone is very invested in our ads,” Ilya says as he settles in deeper. “They are calling it ‘Coffee War.’”

“Cold Coffee War?” Shane asks without thinking.

Ilya chuckles just a little. “Yes, they say this, too.”

“Sorry,” Shane says, ever the Canadian.

Ilya pokes gently at Shane’s side now. “Is funny.”

“People really love picking sides,” Shane sighs. “Kind of feels like our rookie season again.”

“That was good time,” Ilya says wistfully. “But we know who will win this.”

Shane sits up slightly. “Do we?” he asks.

“Yes,” Ilya says, “Since Dunkin’ is better brand anyway.”

“It is not,” Shane says, feeling once again Canadian and this time offended.

“It is,” Ilya says like it’s a given truth.

Shane snorts. “You’re biased.”

Ilya shakes his head. “I am well paid. ‘High profile,’” he says, sounding like he’s quoting someone. “Everyone wants a piece of me. They give me money, I make them more money.”

“Well, enjoy it,” Shane says. “The spotlight moves fast.” With any luck, no one will care about any of this coffee nonsense three weeks from now.

Ilya raises an eyebrow at him. “Only if I let someone take it from me.”

Shane rolls his eyes. “You really can turn anything into a competition, can’t you?”

“I like to win,” Ilya says. “I like you right behind me.”

“Technically you’re the one that’s been behind me lately,” Shane says, thinking of their game earlier and then realizing the double meaning. Ilya notices it, too. “Not like that.”

A spark is alive in Ilya’s eyes. “Yes, is like that,” he says, and rolls on top of Shane and pins him heavily to the mattress. They play wrestle back and forth a little, but they’re both still too exhausted for it to turn into anything more. Ilya collapses down against him and stays there as a comforting weight. His hair and breath tickle against Shane’s neck. It’s nice.

“You’re still visiting for Christmas, right?” Shane asks quietly, pretty sure that Ilya has not fallen asleep.

“Yes. Booked flight already,” Ilya says, chest rumbling against Shane’s own. “Your mother sent a schedule.”

Shane shakes his head. Ilya is only visiting for three days, and she’s still roped him into one of her notorious itineraries.

“Can’t wait,” Shane says sleepily.  “It’ll be nice to take some time away from it all.”

Ilya makes a little sound of agreement, his eyes already closed. Within moments, Shane follows him into sleep.

my name’s not rick @pitterpatrick94 • 1d

Hollander: hey can I copy your homework?
Rozanov: yeah but don’t make it obvious
Hollander:
[image][image]

76 comments, 370 retweets, 1.8k likes

Rozy’s Wife @meghaneightyone • 3h

My cousin works at one of the Dunkin’s near Faneuil and JUST LOOK who came in!!
[image]

140 comments, 1.2k retweets, 6.3k likes

• Rozy’s Wife @meghaneightyone replying to@meghaneightyone • 3h
  
  he posed with them and everything, it was like 6am and he still looks like a god he makes me SICK
  
  53 comments, 209 retweets, 1.5k likes
  
  
  • Reg @regina_not_george90 replying to @meghaneightyone • 2h
    
    tf is this man doing downtown at 6am??
    
    18 comments, 4 retweets, 320 likes
    
    
    • Summer Watches Hockey @getrealsummer replying to@regina_not_george90 • 2h
      
      Seeing Rozy around town at random times is a Boston right of passage, he’s like a local cryptid
      
      46 comments, 277 retweets, 1.9k likes

Dunkin’ ✓ @dunkindonuts retweeted @meghaneightyone • 1h

Some of us are always on that grind

680 comments, 1.8k retweets, 17k likes

After the new year, things only get more intense.

Christmas was a nice break from it all, a chance to breathe and pretend to be a regular couple, if only for few days. And then their schedules demanded that they get right back into it. This is the life that Shane has chosen for himself, and while there are a few things that he would change if given the chance, the breakneck pace of the season has always felt grounding somehow. It gives him something to do, set goals to work for. The season is going pretty well for the Metros. It’s way too early to start thinking seriously about the playoffs, but it’s never too early to set his sights there.

But when it comes to the idea that people would be over his now coffee-based rivalry with Ilya by New Year’s, well. He was wrong.

Ilya has a new ad.

The camera is at Ilya’s back. He wears a Raiders hoodie and his curls are recognizable. He’s got earbuds in and there’s upbeat music playing. The camera follows him as he steps out onto a city sidewalk and starts running. It turns into a montage of him running past iconic places—Fenway, the Public Library, the Common, TD Garden— all shot from behind like the camera man can just barely keep up. Ilya’s breath is visible in the cold air. Boston is quiet in the early dawn light. Finally, Ilya stops in front of a Dunkin’ and goes inside. He takes one earbud from his ear and the music fades into the background. A worker behind the counter hands him a white paper bag with the Dunkin’ logo clear on the side. He takes it and then finally turns around. Panting, he says to the camera, “You’re so close… keep chasing.” Then he winks and puts the earbud back in. The music kicks in again and he jogs back out to the street and away while the camera remains inside and the classic America Runs On Dunkin’ fills the screen.

Shane first sees it while on the bus with his team heading from Philly to New York. It’s early, and half of them are asleep, or at least listening to music with their eyes closed or scrolling through their phones. Hayden is sleeping with his mouth wide open, but Shane angles his phone away from him just in case. He can’t help but feel like Ilya’s wink was all for him, and so he opens up their thread to text. Even though it’s early, Ilya answers right away.

Jane
How do you even have time to shoot all of these?

Lily
Natural talent
I am very fast
You like it?

Jane
Yeah
It was actually kind of sweet

Lily
Sweet? No, it was funny and sexy

Jane
Ok

Lily
Funny because I talk to you through the camera

Yes, Shane picked up on that, the way the commercial is pretty much supposed to be from his point of view, where he’s just a step behind Ilya and riding his coattails. It’s clever. He almost tells Ilya as much, but then he gets another text.

Lily
Sexy because I say you are close
And you sometimes say this when you are about to cum

Jane
Never mind I take it back

Lily
No you can think it’s sweet
I like getting you close

Shane covers his mouth to keep from laughing and waking everyone up. He’s not sure he’d be able to explain what he’s laughing at.

Lily
Are you hard right now?

Jane
No, asshole, I’m on the team bus

Lily
So?

Shane locks his phone and slips it into his pocket. That’s enough of that.

“Texting your girl?” a sleepy voice asks from beside him. Hayden is awake, barely.

“What?” Shane says, “No.”

“Alright, weirdo, keep pretending she doesn’t exist,” Hayden yawns, “I can practically feel your excitement from here.” He closes his eyes and leans back in the seat again, and Shane spares a quick glance down to double check that he isn’t actually hard even though he knows Hayden didn’t mean it that way. “She’s up early.”

“Yeah,” Shane agrees, “Early riser.” When it suits him, he doesn’t ad. Hayden smiles a little at the admission, and then falls back asleep.

Ilya’s ads are getting good, really good. Maybe it’s time to stop dodging the emails his mom keeps forwarding to him from the Tim’s team about taking the heat up a notch.

Raiders Rule @austinfromboston85 retweeted @dunkindonuts • 42m

Woo! Suck on that one, Lame Hollander 

15 comments, 276 retweets, 3.8k likes

• Go Puffins @handle_this_stick replying to @austinfromboston85 • 33m
  
  Keep licking, bro, Rozanov isn’t going to fuck you
  
  24 comments, 520 retweets, 5.6k likes

Hollander’s Donut @timbitsforever24 retweeted @dunkindonuts • 36m

Too bad everything from dunkin tastes like literal ass #ViveLeCanada

12 comments, 155 retweets, 2.8k likes

“Last few questions for you two, and then we promise we’ll let you get out of here.”

“Sorry, do I look tired? Not all of us are sponsored by coffee.”

[laughter from press core]

“You know, Scott, if you’re looking for a good cup, I think I know a guy.”

“More of a smoothie person, actually. And I prefer my cups gold.”

[more laughter]

“Nice to see both of you in good spirits tonight. Are you looking forward to being on the same team for the All Stars game in a few weeks? Scott, you’re a favorite for captain this year.”

“Of course. Always an honor to be invited and an honor to be considered.”

“Yeah, I mean Scott’s a great captain, we saw it last spring, we saw it tonight. A lot of points on both sides, but in the end they edged us out by a little bit and that comes down to good playing, good leadership.”

“Speaking of All Stars, Ilya Rozanov will also be on a team with both of you for the first time this year. Any comment on how you think that dynamic will play?”

“Well, obviously the Eastern Conference is bringing in some heavy hitters this year, both the Blue and Gold teams.”

“I think we’re all hoping for a little of that magic Hollander-Rozanov chemistry that we saw last year. I’m excited to see it up close.”

“Shane, do you think your recent advertising rivalry with Rozanov will affect that dynamic? It seems like it’s getting pretty heated between you two.”

“Ahem, um. No. We’ve always been competitive, but if anything that’s just made our gameplay better and I think we both know exactly how to translate that into working together instead of against each other.”

“So you don’t have any comment about his latest Dunkin’ ad?”

“Haven’t seen it yet, so no.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with this direction?” Shane’s mom asks, worrying over the way his hair is falling again.

“I’m the one who pitched it,” Shane reminds her. “Now can I finish warming up?”

“Yes, of course,” she says, giving him and his yoga mat space. “Just remember you have final approval before this goes live.”

“I know,” he says, and starts gently stretching out his shoulders.

“This is great B-roll,” the director of this commercial says, “If you’re all set, Shane, we’re going to start rolling.”

“Got it,” Shane says.

“Quiet on set!” the director calls, “And… action!”

Leland G @gdawg7483947 • 1h

Hollander can try, but he’ll never top Rozanov #GOAT

56 comments, 239 retweets, 1.2k likes

• Go Puffins @handle_this_stick replying to @gdawg7483947 • 46m
  
  Hope you choke on those balls you’re gargling
  
  14 comments, 32 retweets, 661 likes
  
  
  • Leland G @gdawg7483947 replying to @handle_this_stick • 41m
    
    Get ratioed, asshat
    
    30 comments, 567 retweets, 9.7k likes

Jane
I have a surprise for you

Lily
Oh?
I feel like I will like this surprise

Jane
You will
[video]

Lily
You are trying to kill me I think

Chapter End Notes

Me: heehee I will name this file “Funkin vs Toms” because funny typo
Also me: how do I write about one person finishing on another’s face in, like, a tasteful-ish way? Where is the poetry? The gravitas?

Do you think disembodied Boston sports announcer voices Robert and Jim ever explored each other’s (disem)bodies? 🤔

Kudos and comments greatly appreciated!

Chapter 3: Fuel

Chapter Notes

If you saw the chapter count change again, no you didn't

(Characters won't sit still... somehow two sentence bullet points from my outline keep turning into 2k words)

“…and that’s why we’re so grateful that Casper is sponsoring today’s episode. Shall we get into it, girls?”

“Yes!”

“Absolutely.”

“So, before we go into anything else, I have to talk about the main thing that’s been on my mind all day. Hockey.”

“That is the last thing I thought you would say. You feeling okay, Brit?”

“No, I know exactly where she’s going, Courtney.”

“So you’ve seen the latest ad?”

“Have I seen it? Girl. I have seen it.”

“We have to catch Court up to speed. Listeners, if you have not seen this Tim Hortons ad yet, pause this podcast, drop whatever you are doing, do yourself a favor and go watch it.”

“…wow. Wow! First those Dunkin’ ads with the hot Russian, now this? Since when are hockey players this sexy?”

“Michelle, as our resident Canadian, it’s your responsibility to inform us of these important issues.”

“And I’ve been neglecting my duty. To be fair, every hockey player I went to high school with was a womanizing meathead.”

“Fair.”

“So, that was Shane Hollander, AKA Rose Landry’s ex.”

“That’s why he looked familiar!”

“He’s always been the cutest of the bunch.”

“And, apparently, usually one of the shyest. This is a huge departure for him. We’ve seen him shirtless and/or wet in perfume ads or whatever, but never this self aware kind of flirty sexiness we see here.”

“This coffee war is getting positively steamy.”

“And he’s doing all that for Tim Hortons, quite possibly the least sexy coffee brand.”

“Hey! Don’t let Canada hear you say that.”

“My bad.”

“Apology accepted.”

“And besides, who cares about the brands themselves? We’re clearly the ones who are winning!”

“Amen to that. Now onto our blind items for today…”

TMZ ✓ @TMZ • 32m

Oh, Canada! MLH star Shane Hollander warms up our winter with latest TV spot
[video]

238 comments, 4.7k retweets, 43k likes

• Lucy “Silly” Goosey @leftylucygoosey replying to @TMZ • 30m
  
  Since when is Canada so hot??
  
  26 comments, 283 retweets, 1.2k likes 
  
  
  • Tim Hortons ✓ @TimHortons • 27m
    
    We’ve been serving it hot since 1964!
    
    37 comments, 546 retweets, 3.5k likes
    
    
• Feeling Pucky @bbly28996 replying to @TMZ • 29m
  
  everyone shut the fuck up my show is on
  
  13 comments, 120 retweets, 1.9k likes

Shade Hoelander @shanehoelander2424 • 28m

SIR?????????
[video]

90 comments, 2.3k retweets, 16.5k likes

• Sara Schneider @s_schniedes replying to @shanehoelander2424 • 25m
  
  Crazy how this tweet is six hours long
  
  17 comments, 192 retweets, 1.3k likes

Alex @alexeddy_10 • 17m

Thanks for getting my wife to want to watch hockey with me I guess @shanehollander

15 comments, 86 retweets, 363 likes

Leland G @gdawg7483947 • 12m

.@shanehollander pretty fuckin gay bro

6 comments, 43 retweets, 132 likes

Light fills an airy converted loft space, golden floor-to-ceiling windows framed by exposed brick. Shane Hollander has a yoga mat spread out on the wooden floor in front of them. He is shirtless and wearing loose-fitting black pants. The camera cuts through a few different shots of him going through a morning flow; most are close ups. He bends, holds poses, flexes muscles. The only sound is his steady breath. The shots linger. The camera loves him. He holds a side plank with one arm stretched high, then cobra, then then a warrior lunge. Finally, he stretches out of frame and then pulls his hand back in to reveal that he is now holding a steaming breakfast sandwich piled high with toppings. He holds it close to his mouth and then looks into the camera. “Hearty breakfast sandwiches from Tim’s,” he says, voice then turning cheeky, “They’re more than just a piece of meat.” He gets ready to take a bite and the screen cuts to the words Fuel your flow and the Tim Hortons logo.

Shane is proud of the commercial, even though he feels quite literally exposed by it. He was worried about being able to deliver the line without sounding as stiff as he knows he does in most scripted scenarios, but it turns out an extended yoga session just before having to deliver the lines is just what he needs to get into the right headspace. The team put the commercial together and sent it to air faster than he has ever seen, but nothing about it seems rushed. It’s exactly what he wanted.

The response to the ad is what he expected, but on a bigger scale than he could have imagined. Everyone is commenting, taking sides. His teammates and other Canadian players keep posting pictures of their Tim’s orders. A lot of the Americans are taking selfies in Dunkin’. A handful are pledging loyalty to Starbucks instead, either to just be different or possibly to see if they need a hockey mascot, too.

He’s even starting to see posts from athletes from sports outside of hockey— which he’ll be the first to admit he doesn’t know or care enough about to follow all that much— posting about one side or another. Celebrities, or at least the internet variety, are also getting in on it. It all kind of feels like its getting out of hand. Maybe the yoga ad was taking things too far.

Except: it’s driving Ilya crazy in all the ways that he had hoped.

The first is the obvious. Shane sent Ilya the ad the second it was approved and he hasn’t stopped talking about it since. Throughout the days following, he’s gotten non sequitur texts at seemingly random times commenting on some aspects of the commercial.

Lily
Want to lick those abs

and

Lily
We should see how far you can bend

and

Lily
Perfect amount of tit to grab

and even

Lily
That body did not come from shitty fast food sandwich

Jane
No. But the yoga helped.

Lily
Do you do private lessons?
;)

Shane has to imagine that each of these texts is because Ilya is watching the video over and over again and thinking of new things to comment on. He likes the idea of that.

And then there’s the way that the ad has clearly gotten under Ilya’s skin.

He video calls, a few nights later when they are finally in their respective homes and beds and have some time to breathe. The first thing Ilya says is, “You are very distracting.”

“Good,” Shane says, “That’s what I was aiming for.”

“Cannot stop thinking about your body,” Ilya complains, “And also how I will possibly beat this. You want me naked next? That is what you want?”

Shane shakes his head. “I mean I wouldn’t complain, but I think Advertising Standards might.” Ilya blows out a puff of air like Shane has ruined his plans. “You don’t actually have to try and beat me, you know. You could bow out and let me have the win.”

Ilya looks offended. “I never do this,” he says, and Shane knew he would which is why that wasn’t a serious suggestion.

“Then I guess you and Dunkin’ will have to think of something,” Shane says. Then, more seriously, he asks. “So you don’t think I took it too far?”

“No,” Ilya says like he doesn’t quite understand, “Is good ad. Everyone talks about it.”

“That’s what I mean,” Shane says and leans his head back against the headboard. “It’s going viral, apparently. And, I don’t know, it’s just a side of myself that I don’t really let anyone see.” Except you, he doesn’t say.

“A lot of of people looking at you,” Ilya says in agreement, still processing what Shane is saying. “Is too much?”

Yes. “Maybe,” he says. “I feel like I put myself under a microscope.” He swallows against a sudden lump of anxiety in this throat. “And like people are starting to figure me out.”

“You care a lot what people think of you,” Ilya says, not unkindly.

“Yes,” Shane says, “And you. They’re looking at both of us, wondering what we’ll do next.”

“Okay,” Ilya says, “Let them wonder.”

“Ilya,” Shane sighs, but doesn’t have anything to follow it up with.

“What?” Ilya continues, “We have plan, right? I go to Ottawa, we show them we are friends. Maybe in few years is safe to come out. They can think what they want until then.”

Shane nods tiredly. “I just want to play hockey.”

“Then let’s just play hockey,” Ilya says, and he makes it sound like it’s really that simple.

He isn’t even playing the Raiders, and yet the rivalry has followed him here.

It starts during warmups. They’re in Philadelphia playing the Monuments, their last before the All Stars break versus a team they don’t play against all that frequently. Shane is making laps around the ice and trying to get his mind and body into the right mode for a game. Every time he passes one section of the stands, the fans there insistently wave signs at him and, after a few laps, he makes the mistake of looking up at them.

KEEP CHASING, HOLLANDER a hand made poster proclaims, in a way he can’t assume is positive, because the man next to it holds one with a poorly drawn cartoon of a Dunkin’ cup fucking a Tim’s cup from behind. GO MONUMENTS another nearby sign says with a large printout of him from the commercial in the center and BEAT THAT MEAT scrawled out below. The fans jeer at him when they notice him looking. He sets his eyes on the ice in front of him again and tries not to give them any type of reaction. This is par for the course for hockey fans. At least a handful of Metros fans are there to balance things out, although the pro-Shane signs declaring WE LIKE OUR COFFEE AND OUR CAPTAINS HOT and BUILT DIFFERENT with more printouts of him shirtless are hardly better.

It only continues as the game begins. The opposing player from the Monuments sneers at him as they get ready for the faceoff, looking like he’d crush Shane like a bug under his shoe if given half the chance. He leans in closer than strictly necessary, the way Ilya might but far less charming.

“Namaste,” he mocks.

“Fuck you,” Shane says, and wins the faceoff.

The game is fast and mean from the get-go. The Metros aren’t on home ice, but the unpleasant welcome has them in the mood to prove their team is the better of the two. There’s a few dirty checks on each side, but of course the refs are mostly calling penalties on the Metros and looking the other way when it comes to the Monuments. By the middle of the second, the score is tied two-two, and Shane is seething. He takes a shot but the goalie blocks it. As he skates back towards the bench, a noise drones up from the crowd, starting low and building in intensity. He thinks they’re booing him at first, and then he realizes what it actually is.

“Are they chanting fucking om?” Hayden asks as Shane sits down beside him. “Like a goddamn yoga class?”

“Yep,” Shane says, eyes tracing the game. “Any luck and they’ll find some enlightenment.”

Hayden laughs, and Shane feels a modicum better.

It all comes to a head in the third. Shane gets a shot in and ties up the game again and the crowd tries the om trick once more mixed in with some booing, but Shane doesn’t let it get to him. This time when he gets to the bench, however, he’s only sitting for a moment before he hears, more than feels, the dull tap of something hitting the top of his helmet. Before he can spare it another thought, another object falls past his face. He looks down. There’s a styrofoam Dunkin’ cup rolling over the wet floor in front of his skates, and more raining down from above.

He turns around to look and sees the source of them: there is a small gaggle of fans decked out in Monument red hurling cup after cup up and over the plexi. They hit Shane and his nearby teammates and scatter around them and across the ice.

Both teams clear the ice. The crowd is losing its mind. Security finally rounds up all of the offenders and starts escorting them out of the arena, to raucous applause. Another arena worker appears with a trash can to help collect all the empty cups from the ice and the area around the bench. The Metros coaches are yelling at the referees, demanding an extra intermission and time to regroup in the locker room, and the refs are refusing to grant more than a brief time out. Shane keeps his eyes on the ice still and his face neutral, but in his periphery he can see the Monuments laughing and banging their sticks and hyping up the crowd even more. Fuck those guys.

“So we are going to win this shit, yes?” JJ asks Shane when they are finally reset and ready to head back out onto the ice again.

“Absofuckinglutely,” Shane replies.

“Now, big topic of conversation tonight, Rob— Shane Hollander, not rattled at all by the antics of those Philly fans earlier today.”

“Cool as a cucumber.”

“If anything, that may have made his gameplay sharper.”

“Although, I gotta tell you, if I’m Hollander’s teammate, I might be starting to worry a little bit about how this is going to continue to affect games going forward.”

“Certainly worked out fine for them today, but you’re right. I think it begs the question of how far is too far? And, do fans know where that line is?”

“Well, if Hollander and Rozanov continue to play into their viral success, then it’s possible that time will only tell, Jim.”

“Too true. Zamboni is off the ice and we’re heading into the third. If you’re just joining us now, it’s been a rough night for Ottawa, with Boston leading three-nothing…”

Feeling Pucky @bbly28996 • 16h

Control your fans @MLHMonuments

78 comments, 381 retweets, 3.4k likes

• Rozy’s Wife @meghaneightyone • 15h
  
  Seriously!! So effed
  
  13 comments, 97 likes, 226 likes

Casey St. John ✓ @itspronouncedsinjin_57 • 14h

That’s what happens if you try to mess with the captain of the Metros!!!

164 comments, 1.8k retweets, 10.5k likes

Rose Landry ✓@roselandryofficial • 49m

When in Canada
[image]

642 comments, 3.5k retweets, 76k likes

• Hat Trick @hattie_mason5439 replying to @roselandryofficial • 31m
  
  .@s_schniedes um does this mean what I think it means?
  
  85 comments, 18 retweets, 344 likes
  • Sara Schneider @s_schniedes replying to @hattie_mason5439 • 27m
    
    I don’t think this is a drill
    
    12 comments, 48 retweets, 890 likes

my name’s not rick @pitterpatrick94 • 40m

like you wouldn’t also hop back on an ex that hot. get real. yoga Hollander has us ALL folding.

149 comments, 552 retweets, 2.7k likes

Hot Hockey Goss ✓ @MLHbutpetty • 26m

BREAKING: Rose Landry posts picture of Tim Hortons coffee cup, Twitter loses its collective shit

322 comments, 2.3k retweets, 18k likes

Lily
Call me

Jane
Can’t
At Hayden’s with some teammates

Shane tries to text Ilya back without looking like he’s gotten too absorbed in his phone. He flies out to Seattle tomorrow and the rest of the team is excited for the short game break. Hayden had insisted that everyone come over for drinks at his place and that Shane join them and maybe that would have been a subtle way to check on him after the bullshit that was yesterday’s game in Philadelphia if he hadn’t already checked on Shane approximately sixteen times in the last 24 hours. A bunch of the guys have started a Mario Kart bracket and Shane is one beer deep and just happy to be there.

Lily
Tell pike to leave

Jane
It’s his house

Lily
I know
You said you are fine yesterday, but you do not seem fine

So Ilya is checking in again, too. Shane is fine. He’s pissed off, sure, and kind of wishes he could go back in time to stop himself from doing the yoga ad, but he can’t and it’s fine. He’s had worse things said to and about him, although the throwing objects at him thing is new.

Jane
I am fine, I promise
I’m not made of glass, a styrofoam cup isn’t going to take me out.

Lily
Lucky I am not there

Jane
Yeah, really wouldn’t want you murdering some fan for me

Lily
I would not murder
Maybe fight

“Oh come the fuck on,” Hayden complains, “who threw that shell?”

“Swear jar,” Shane says mildly, and continues texting Ilya.

Jane
That might be worse, actually

Lily
I see videos
Fans throwing cups, comments full of people who say you deserve this

Jane
Yeah, well, welcome to the internet. Shitty people being shitty online. Comes with the job.

Lily
And so many people saying you are hot
They want to fuck you
They say they would treat you better than anyone like you are prize

Shane sits up in the armchair he’s been lounging in, sets the bottle with the dregs of his beer on a side table, rests his elbows on his knees, and reads the messages again before responding.

Jane
Wait, are you jealous right now?
You said you liked the ad

Lily
I like the ad
I like looking at your body
I do not mind everyone looking at your body because only I can have

Shane rubs a hand over his mouth and tries to think of a reply. Before he gets a chance, more messages from Ilya flow in in rapid succession.

Lily
I do not like everyone talking like they know you
Throwing garbage at you like circus bear
Saying you are bad captain
Thinking they can have you

“Ha!” someone yells as the game plays the end of race sound effects.

“Man, f- screw you, I almost had that!” Hayden insists. “Dude, you okay?”

Shane startles, and realizes Hayden is looking at him, and now so is everyone else. Maybe he hasn’t been as subtle as he thought.

“Yeah, sorry,” Shane stumbles and points vaguely at his now locked phone screen. “It’s just…”

“You don’t usually look like that when you text your Lily girl,” JJ says.

Shane should keep denying it, the way he always has. But he’s tired and Ilya is stressing him out more, and when a perfect excuse falls into his lap he should probably take it. “I think she’s mad at me,” he says, and the guys all hiss and ooh in sympathy.

Shane’s phone buzzes again.

Lily
They say things to me but not the way they say things to you

Jane
People on the internet have a lot of bad opinions about a lot of things

Lily
Like that you are dating rose landry again

Shit. Is that what this is about? Maybe he should call Ilya after all. He doesn’t, not yet.

Jane
Which you, of all people, know is stupid

Lily
A few thousand people think it’s true

Jane
But you know that it’s not!

Lily
That is not point
You say you don’t like so much attention, then you say is part of job
Which is it

“Shit, okay,” Shane says and gets to his feet. “Sorry, I’ve gotta—” He points towards the hall to excuse himself.

“Do your thing, buddy,” Hayden says and shifts into starting up another race.

“Godspeed, brother,” Casey says with a little salute. Shane is already hitting the call button before he makes into into the hall.

“So now you can call?” is how Ilya answers.

“I stepped away,” Shane says. “You know I’m not getting back together with Rose.”

“Of course not,” Ilya sniffs.

“So then why are you getting mad at me about this?” Shane can hear the guys in the other room yelling about banana peels and speed boosts again, but he keeps his voice quiet just in case.

“Who says I am mad at you?” Ilya asks, but his tone says otherwise.

“Well, you seem mad,” Shane says. He pinches at the bridge of his nose; he really doesn’t need this.

“I am not mad at you,” Ilya insists.

“Then stop acting like you are,” Shane says.

“I am mad, not at you,” Ilya says. His voice is measured, like he’s trying his hardest to pick the right English words or keep himself from yelling. Maybe both. “I am mad because there are so many people online who try to claim you.” He pauses, but Shane waits for him to continue. He adds, quieter, “And I can’t do that.”

Oh. It clicks into place for Shane, then, what exactly Ilya is jealous of.

“I’m sorry,” Shane says. He leans forward and rests his head against the wall of Hayden’s hallway.

“Is not you,” Ilya says, a little wobble in his voice.

“I’m still sorry,” Shane nearly whispers.

“Okay,” Ilya whispers back.

“I’m tired of it, too,” Shane says, “I think this whole internet bullshit, Dunkin vs Tim’s thing is getting to both of us.”

“You are right I think,” Ilya says. Shane can hear the tink of something softly in the background, ice tapping against the sides of a glass. He lets the mental image of Ilya sitting in bed, the lights low and a glass of vodka in his hand, ground him.

“Honestly this whole thing is so stupid,” Shane says, and then laughs a little. “You know I don’t even really like coffee all that much?”

“Yes, I know this,” Ilya says, “And food from Dunkin all tastes like old shoe.”

Shane laughs again, louder, less worried about being overheard. “What are we doing?”

“Being well-paid idiots,” Ilya says.

Shane lets out what can only be described as a giggle, giddy with the relief of an argument avoided. “I can’t wait to see you this weekend,” he says, dropping his voice low again even as the rowdy gameplay sounds from the other room continue.

“And I can’t wait for you to glaze me like donut again,” Ilya says, and Shane hears the sound of the ice again. Probably taking a congratulatory sip of vodka for how proud of that one he is.

“You’re ridiculous,” Shane says, feeling blood rush to his face.

“Or should we bend you in half and try out new yoga pose?” Ilya asks.

“If you’re going to be like that, then I’m going to hang up and go back into the other room,” Shane says, “You know, where my teammates are sitting right now?”

“Hmm, fine,” Ilya concedes. “Will have to save for weekend. I have surprise for you this time.”

Shane finds himself grinning, even though he’s now highly suspicious. “Am I going to like this surprise?”

“Probably, yes,” Ilya says, “Maybe no.” Then he hangs up with a cheerful, “See you at All Stars!”

Chapter End Notes

This chapter is (maybe) as angst-adjacent as it gets (do half-arguments even really count?). Also, if you read an earlier version, I changed it from D.C. to Philadelphia based on feedback from both D.C. and Philly fans… probably should have realized that was the obvious choice lmao. Let me know if I missed an edit!

I'm sure Ilya's surprise is something totally innocent and normal.

Next chapter out soon!

Chapter 4: Fan the Flames

Chapter Notes

Yesterday, I watched a man in jeans and a sweatshirt smoking a cigarette with one hand and clutching a large Dunkin’ iced coffee in the other while he shuffled through a Stop&Shop parking lot in a snow and ice storm. Fellow New Englanders this story has attracted: why are we like this? Follow up comment: hope you all got your bread and milk.

“You didn’t.”

“I didn’t what?”

“Ilya.”

“Shane.”

Shane makes sure the hotel room door behind him is locked. Ilya should not be here, and yet there he is lounging on one of the two queen beds with his hands behind his head like it’s the most casual situation in the world. This can only mean one thing.

“Ilya!” Shane says again, “I know who I’m supposed to be rooming with, and it isn’t you.”

“What?” Ilya says, “And I special request single room, yet we are both here.”

Shane looks at him flatly. “They said they were out of single rooms. I asked.”

“Yes, some kind of big mix up,” Ilya says with false bewilderment. “They apologize so much, say there is nothing they can do. The hotel is too full, no extra rooms.”

“This is the surprise? You’re insane.” Shane wonders just how Ilya managed to arrange this in, he trusts, a way that hasn’t given them away.

Ilya shrugs. “Plenty of other teammates have to share. Busy weekend, lot of full hotels. If you do not have wife, you may get stuck with roommate.”

Shane sets one of his bags down next to the door. “I bet Scott Hunter doesn’t have to share,” he says.

“Scott Hunter is captain,” Ilya says, a touch bitterly, “Gets special treatment.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Shane says. “Hunter is going to be a good captain.”

“Good, yes, not great,” Ilya says, popping a little dismissive puff of air through his lips. “It is… what is called, empty saying?”

“Lip service?” Shane tries.

“Mmm no, not that. That sounds stupid,” Ilya says.

“You think they made him captain just because he came out and not because his team won the cup last year?” Yes, Shane would bet that’s exactly what he and a lot of other people think, because it’s what a lot of people on Twitter are saying.

“I think we should worry about Hunter’s old knees giving up during game,” Ilya says instead.

“Be nice,” Shane says, but he’s laughing.

“I am being nice,” Ilya insists, “I am concerned for old man’s health, is that not nice?”

Shane takes a step or two closer, drapes his jacket and suit garment bag carefully over a chair set next to the TV console. Takes his shoes off and lines them up next to the chair. “People are going to talk about this,” he says, “You and I sharing a room.”

“Probably,” Ilya concedes. “Will make funny story. I bet the brands will Tweet it.”

“Oh, well, if the brands like it,” Shane says.

“People always talk so much,” Ilya says. “We are competitive, but we can show we are friends now, yes?” Shane nods a little. “Look, is perfect; we have one bed for sleeping, one bed for fucking.” As he says this, he gestures towards the empty bed closer to Shane and then the one he’s resting in, respectively. Shane doesn’t want to admit how appealing the idea is, but even without him saying anything Ilya is making the face he makes when he’s won.

“I can’t believe you,” even as he drops his other bag at the foot of the, apparently, sleeping bed. Ilya pats the bed beside him, smooths a hand over the bedspread.

“We have two hours until we need to leave for the dinner,” Ilya says enticingly. “What should we do?”

“Hm, well,” Shane says, approaching slowly. “I could use a shower. Or we could walk down to Pike Place, watch them throw the fish around.” Ilya is fighting a smile. Shane reaches the end of the bed and hooks a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing towards the door. “Or maybe I’ll just hit the hotel gym for a bit.”

“Why go anywhere?” Ilya asks. “You could get a workout in right here.” Then, instead of the space beside him, he pats his lap this time.

“You have something in mind?” Shane asks, but he’s already crawling his way up from the end of the bed towards Ilya.

“I have always wanted to get into yoga,” Ilya says casually, even as Shane straddles him and traces light fingers down his arm.

“Yeah? I think I know someone who can help with that,” Shane says, and kisses him. Then he pulls far enough away to whisper, “Missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” Ilya says. He hooks his hands behind both of Shane’s knees and flips him backwards onto the bed, rolling over with him, intent on seeing just how flexible Shane really is.

Hot Hockey Goss ✓@MLHbutpetty • 48m

Unconfirmed rumours claim Hollander and Rozanov are sharing a room at the All Stars weekend. Do you think we have a Tim’s or a Dunkin’ fan to thank for that?

630 comments, 3.1k retweets, 22k likes

• Feeling Pucky @bbly28996 replying to @MLHbutpetty • 36m
  
  Oh this is going to be a bloodbath
  
  36 comments, 423 retweets, 2.4k likes
  
  
  • my name’s not rick @pitterpatrick94 replying to @bbly28996 • 33m
    
    my money’s on Rozanov
    
    17 comments, 272 retweets, 1.2k likes
     
    • Feeling Pucky @bbly28996 replying to @pitterpatrick94 • 29m
      
      No bet
      
      14 comments, 79 retweets, 951 likes
      
      
• Summer Watches Hockey @getrealsummerreplying to @MLHbutpetty • 32m
  
  How much do I have to pay to get reincarnated as a fly on that wall?
  
  85 comments, 742 retweets, 6.8k likes

Shade Hoelander @shanehoelander2424 retweeted @MLHbutpetty • 29m

Talk about sleeping with the enemy

186 comments, 3.3k retweets, 27.5k likes

Two hours, an orgasm, a shower, and a shower orgasm later, they are heading out of the hotel room to the opening banquet. Ilya is feeling quite pleased with himself for pulling off this plan.

The event is large and lively. Ilya has enjoyed every All Stars weekend he has been to, although he’s not sure much can top last year. There are a few speeches, which Ilya only kind of listens to, and some pretty good food, which Ilya devours and Shane, across the round table from him, picks at half heartedly. Seattle is a pretty hip place, maybe if they go out as a team later they can find a place with Shane-approved bar food. Or maybe just room service.

A few of the young guys still look starstruck at being seated with the old vets. A lot of players have brought their wives or girlfriends. Scott Hunter is also at their table, and he’s brought his boyfriend, who is handsome in a way that Ilya finds annoying. They are both seated closer to Shane than Ilya is and all three are engaging in politely boring conversation about team dynamics. The league has tweaked the team divisions again this year, splitting the Eastern and Western conferences into two teams each in a way that probably makes sense to people sitting in a board room somewhere who understand ratings and revenue more than Ilya cares to. Some people are complaining about balance, but Ilya likes the way things feel mixed differently this year.

After the formal part of dinner is time for mingling, which is way more fun. There’s music, which a few people dance to, but mostly it’s a chance to talk with their temporary teammates and chirp players from opposing teams. Which, fortunately and unfortunately, goes both ways.

“Hey, Roz, is it true you’re rooming with Hollander?” The player who asks is not the first tonight, and will almost definitely not be the last. Ilya hasn’t told anyone, and he’s sure Shane hadn’t told anyone, but it doesn’t matter because everybody already knows and it’s everybody’s favorite joke.

“Try not to be too jealous,” Ilya calls back, “If you fix your weak wrist shots maybe you will be here next year to room with me.”

The other man laughs it off and turns back to the group he had been chatting with. Ilya sips from his glass. It’s whiskey, which is not vodka, but is also okay.

“So I guess it’s true,” Scott Hunter says in a tone he probably thinks is friendly. He and Shane have been discussing strategy because obviously neither of them know how to relax, and Ilya is just joining them after making a loop around the room with the intention of giving them shit for it. Hunter’s boyfriend Pip, or whatever, is hovering at his elbow, looking moderately overwhelmed.

“Yes,” Ilya says and throws an arm around Shane’s shoulders in a masculine camaraderie kind of way. This is how he would act with Marleau, this is how they all act with each other. It’s fine. “We get to be best buddies for the next forty-eight hours.”

“Fifty six,” Shane corrects.

“Okay, fifty six,” Ilya says, and gives Shane another brotherly shake before dropping his arm away. “That makes you even luckier.”

“Oh, I’m the lucky one in this scenario?” Shane asks. He’s a little wooden, but he’s playing along. They’re being friends now, right?

“Please at least wait to kill each other until after the game,” Hunter admonishes with a captain’s mock severity.

“Fine,” Ilya says. “But if you wake me up at 5 AM to do yoga routine I cannot make any promise.”

Shane turns a cute shade of red around his freckles and sputters out a laughing, “Shut the fuck up.”

“My friends are kind of obsessed with that commercial,” Hunter’s boyfriend— Kip, that’s it— admits to Shane. From the look on Kip’s face and the way a tiny muscle in Hunter’s jaw jumps, Kip’s friends are not the only ones. Haha.

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Shane says stiffly.

“Got any other coffee based stunts prepared for this weekend?” Hunter asks, and Ilya almost wishes they had because he can tell it annoys him.

“No,” Shane says, “I’m trying to keep a lower profile.” As if that could happen.

Ilya shakes his head and says, “They are not paying me enough to do this.”

Actually, the Dunkin’ ad team has been emailing him and his agent all week about how to continue the rivalry angle through All Stars. He is still thinking about what it would be like to outdo Shane’s (extremely sexy) yoga ad, but the fan reaction in Philly is making him more nervous than he wants Shane to know. He will let whatever people want to say online stay online, but they are both fine with hanging back from the (coffee) rivalry, at least for this weekend.

“Temporary truce,” Shane agrees.

“Besides,” Kip says, “We’re in Starbucks territory. Might be nice to keep your enemies close.”

Ilya decides he kind of likes Kip. Before anyone can say anything else there’s someone trying to get Ilya’s attention.

“Hey, Rozanov!” It’s the rookie from New Jersey, Billy Flick, with his arm wrapped around a very pretty woman. Uh oh. “Thanks for switching rooms with me! I owe you, like, a million, man.”

“Is no problem,” Ilya says, sounding far more cheerful than he feels. He feels more like a child caught with his hand in a cookie jar. “You get good room, you play good, da?”

“You know it!” Flick says excitedly, and continues on his way towards the dance floor.

Shane and Hunter and Kip are all staring at him.

“What?” he asks as innocently as he can manage, “I introduce myself to some players, say ‘yay, All Stars team, so exciting!’ And then Fleck says he is so sad because he wants to bring girlfriend, but has to share a room and spend all his time with boring Shane Hollander, boo hoo.” This isn’t exactly one hundred percent truthfully how it happened. But it’s the story he’ll tell anyone who asks. The world does not need to know how many players he DM’d on Twitter until he found the one that would be rooming with Shane.

“You offered to trade?” Shane asks incredulously.

“Yes,” Ilya says. “And you try to say I am not nice.”

Shane stares at him a little longer and then says, a little too loudly, “I’m going to go get a drink, anyone need anything?” They all decline and Shane slips away into the crowd without a backwards glance.

Now Ilya is left with Scott Hunter and Kip and would like very much to be somewhere else. Also they’re still staring at him. “What?” he asks. They exchange a look that Ilya doesn’t care to interpret.

“Nothing,” Hunter says.

“Okay, good talk,” Ilya says, “Captain.” And he leaves to find someone else to talk to. 

“So…” Kip begins.

“Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say,” Scott sighs, loosening and removing his tie. He drapes it over the same hanger his suit jacket now hangs on. Going out is for the younger guys, and the ones who don’t have hot boyfriends to bring back to hotel rooms.

“Okay, but like we have to talk about that,” Kip says. “I thought you were the only gay hockey player.”

“I’m the only out player,” Scott clarifies.

“Sure yeah, obviously, statistically,” Kips says, “But what the actual fuck? You cannot tell me you didn’t pick up on that vibe.”

“Oh, I picked up on it,” Scott says, trying not to laugh.

“So since when does Ilya Rozanov have a crush on Shane Hollander?” Kip asks as he unbuttons his shirt and lets it hang open and loose.

Scott thinks carefully. “Since maybe always? I feel like half the shit he does is for Hollander’s attention.”

Kip sits down on the bed. “That’s absolutely wild. Do you think he likes him back?”

“Last time I tried to insinuate anything about Rozanov to Hollander, he punched me in the face,” Scott admits.

Kips jaw hangs open. “Is that what that fight was about?” Everyone remembers the time the famously mild mannered captain started an inexplicable fight after already winning a game against Scott’s team.

Scott nods. “We’re okay now, but I learned that lesson real fast.”

“Okay, but if Shane Hollander is gay, that would be huge, right?” Kip asks.

“I try not to speculate,” Scott says, and at Kip’s look adds, “Honestly I have no idea, Shane’s a tough nut to crack.” At his subsequent expression, he also adds, “Don’t.”

Kip doesn’t touch the remark, but he also isn’t done. “Come on, can you imagine if they’re actually together?”

“It would be insane,” Scott agrees, but doesn’t really want to imagine any of it, not the least bit because he already has a hot guy right in front of him, no imagination needed.

“I mean are we the only ones seeing it?” Kip asks.

“Maybe,” Scott says. “People really like to come up with any heterosexual explanation for what’s right in front of them.” He finishes unbuttoning his own shirt and peels it off, tossing it onto a nearby chair. “I should know, I hid in it for years.”

Kip looks at him softly. “Not anymore, though.”

“No,” Scott says and joins Kip on the bed. “Not anymore.”

Tim Hortons ✓ @TimHortons • 2h

Big weekend. Big matchups. Good luck to all #MLHAllStars! (Remember everyone, cups are for drinking, not throwing!)

122 comments, 764 retweets, 4.5k likes

Dunkin’ ✓ @dunkindonuts • 1h

Sometimes sharing is caring #andtheywereroommates

240 comments, 1.2k retweets, 11k likes

“Hey, look who’s alive!”

The player breakfast is once again the same jokes over and over again about how funny it is that Hollander and Rozanov are sharing a room. There’s a dissonance that rings in Shane’s mind when he thinks too long about how playing into the jokes is protecting them from real speculation.

“I actually slept great,” Shane tells them, then nods towards a half awake Ilya. “Can’t say the same for Mr. Espresso.”

They went out with their team last night, which Shane hadn’t particularly wanted to do but knows that it’s good for morale, to an extent. Someone from one of the other teams thought it would be funny to have two espresso martinis sent over to Shane and Ilya. Shane took one sip and balked, so now there are photos floating around social media of Ilya holding two espresso martinis looking triumphant while Shane wrinkles his nose nearby. Ilya called the cocktail an insult to vodka but drank them both anyway, and then had trouble falling asleep even after more hotel room sex that was rather athletic on his part.

“Am fine, just need food,” Ilya says, then mumbles something to himself in Russian and leaves to go find some.

Then after breakfast there’s ice time, strategizing, trying to figure out how to play together while most of the players have only ever played against each other. Scott is a decent captain. He has them run a few drills until he gets a feel for how they work together and then matches them all up accordingly. His style of leadership is similar to Shane’s own, for the most part, which means Ilya is probably disagreeing with everything he’s doing on the inside but knows better than to throw off the team’s rhythm by questioning their captain. Shane is sure he’ll have to hear rants about it later, though.

As it does every year, the All Stars exhibition passes in a blur.

Ilya has bounced back to his usual trash talking self by the time the stands are filling and they’re running through warmups. Then Shane defends his records in the skills competition, though he doesn’t match his personal best and there’s a rookie from San Jose that comes close.

And then the games happen, faster and friendlier and more chaotic for it.

The Eastern Blue team wins it all, second year in a row for Shane and Ilya. Shane assists Ilya’s winning goal. Ilya doesn’t repeat the kiss on the helmet from last year, but it’s a close thing. He grabs Shane by both shoulders and shakes him, mouth wide open in excited celebration. Shane thinks about what would happen if he kissed Ilya right now, on the mouth. For just a moment, a flash that fades quickly, he considers actually doing it. Then their teammates are crashing into them to celebrate and Scott is saying “Great job, kid!” somewhere nearby and even though he and Ilya get squashed in together by the other guys, the moment is gone.

MLH ✓ @MLH • 1h

Congrats to the Eastern Blue Team! Scott Hunter leads team to victory, wins $1M charity money for LGBTQ youth sports organization #MLHAllStars

368 comments, 3.4k retweets, 41k likes

Shane Hollander ✓@shanehollander

Great show from everyone at All Stars today! Thanks to @scott.hunter for the leadership.

125 comments, 1.4k retweets, 3.8k likes

Ilya Rozanov ✓@ilyarozanov81 • 23m

LETS GOOOOOOO

489 comments, 6k retweets, 53k likes

“I almost kissed you on the ice,” Shane confesses, and Ilya freezes halfway through taking his sweatshirt off. “Thought about it, just for a second.”

“I also thought about this,” Ilya says, slowly resuming the removal of his clothing.

Shane nods. So he hadn’t imagined it. “Spending all this time with you, being around Scott and meeting Kip,” Shane says slowly, “I think maybe some lines are getting blurred.”

Ilya considers him carefully. “You don’t like these lines blurred?” He asks. “We should get some distance?”

“No,” Shane says, stepping in close to Ilya, “I never want extra distance between us.” He puts a hand on Ilya’s jaw and guides them into a firm kiss.

“So I am not doing too much?” Ilya asks once they part. “With hotel room.”

Shake shakes his head. “It’s been fun,” he says, “Gives us an excuse to be together more.” Then he sighs. “I know hockey is still homophobic as all hell, but sometimes it feels like the tide is changing a little bit. Or like when I’m with you I can handle it.” He drops his hand down to Ilya’s chest. “I don’t care that the lines are getting blurred, but what if we redrew them differently?”

“You cannot be saying English riddles to me,” Ilya complains, squinting, “Not when I am drunk.”

“You’re not even drunk,” Shane says dryly. They’re just getting back from being out again with their team, this time for a celebratory dinner which had of course turned into a few drinks. Shane stuck to his usual single beer, and Ilya had learned from the previous night and had two. This is their first moment truly alone since they left this same hotel room this morning.

“So drunk,” Ilya insists, “Can barely stand up.” He leans forward onto Shane, draping his whole body against him so that Shane stumbles back a little.

“You’re fucking heavy,” Shane laughs.

“All muscle,” Ilya says, and it’s not even a lie. “You are big strong man, you can’t hold me up?”

“Ilya,” Shane laughs more, but starts guiding them towards the (sex) bed, since Ilya is pretty transparent about his intentions.

The back of his knees hit the bed and he falls down onto it, and Ilya topples down with him, a solid mass pressing him to the mattress. They are both grinning widely, faces only inches apart.

“Hello,” Ilya says softly through his smile.

“Hi,” Shane flirts back.

“Come here often?” Ilya asks. His voice reverberates in Shane’s chest, the deepness of it going right to his growing hardness. The chain that’s always around Ilya’s neck is cold between them but warming quickly.

“Yes, actually,” Shane says. Ilya kisses him like he can’t hold back anymore, and Shane kisses back just as hungrily.

The break only long enough for shirts to come off and then get right back into it. The nice pants that Shane had chosen to go out in are straining against him now, getting in the way of the friction he desperately needs. Like he can read Shane’s mind— or like maybe he’s becoming just as frustrated— Ilya rolls to the side off of Shane so that he can start pawing at the buckle of Shane’s belt. He gets the belt free, and then unzips him, and the Shane is helping him slide those nice pants off and away. Ilya copies him in a mad rush to remove his as well. Shane’s boxer briefs soon follow, and then Ilya is touching him while kissing him again and Shane is almost dizzy with it.

Ilya bites at his lower lip. “What do you want?” he growls, hand not relenting.

“Anything,” Shane pants, “Just fuck me already.”

Ilya chuckles and kisses him again quickly. “Okay,” he says, and heads to his suitcase for condoms and lube.

It doesn’t take much for Ilya to be sliding inside of him, one of Shane’s legs hooked up over his shoulder and their chests pressed together again. Ilya rocks into him and Shane finds himself wishing that they were somewhere else, somewhere like the cottage isolated against the rest of the world, where he could be loud, give Ilya the kind of response his performance deserves. As it is, mindful of the crowded hotel around them, he contains himself as well as he can. Here and there, a moan slips through. Each time, Ilya takes it as encouragement and moves faster.

Soon Shane is so close he’s aching. Ilya must notice, because he reaches a hand down between the two of them and resumes touching Shane. He strokes just right once, twice, and Shane is done for, arching up off of the bed as it slams into him. And then, maybe at the sight of Shane’s release, Ilya is saying that he loves Shane, in Russian and in English, as he falls apart as well.

Ilya goes to get a washcloth to clean up the both of them, and when he’s done with it he throws it in the general direction of the bathroom. Then Ilya tries to climb into bed beside Shane, but Shane, fucked out and boneless, is still sprawled across most of it.

“Make room for me,” Ilya says, and when Shane doesn’t move right away he reaches around and pinches one of his asscheeks. Shane yelps and wriggles over enough that Ilya has slightly more bed space. Instead of taking it, however, Ilya holds himself propped up with one arm and drags his other hand over Shane’s hip bone. He gets a devious little look on his face like he’s about to pinch Shane again, so Shane beats him to it and pinches the underside of his supporting arm and Ilya jolts and falls down next to him.

“Shane Hollander playing dirty,” Ilya teases, “What will the press think?”

“You started it,” Shane says, and snuggles in close. Ilya’s thumb rubs gently at his shoulder as they settle. Then thought occurs to Shane. “You never let me explain what I meant earlier,” he says, “When I said we should redraw some lines.”

“Mm. Had more important things to do.” Ilya’s fingers continue to trace small circles over Shane’s shoulder. “What lines do we draw?”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot. What if we keep doing what we’ve been doing this weekend?” he asked. “You said you wanted to claim me for everyone to see?”

“More than anything,” Ilya says just barely above a whisper.

“What if we started to do that, just a little bit?” Ilya wrinkles his brow at Shane, so he tries to clarify. “We hide in plain sight. We don’t say anything outright, but we stop keeping everything so secret.” He can hardly believe that he’s the one proposing this, but over the past month or so it’s like something in him has shifted. He wants this. “We can be around each other more, keep doing the coffee ads if you want, keep flirting that way. Let people get used to seeing us together.” He swallows, throat suddenly dry at the idea, but pressing onwards. “Come out eventually, when it’s right.”

“Let them think what they want,” Ilya says, echoing their earlier conversation about this, “And just play hockey.”

“Yeah,” Shane says. “I know we have Russia to worry about, but…”

“We can worry about that later,” Ilya says, “If it becomes problem.” When.

“We don’t have to do it,” Shane says, “It should be both of us making the decision. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of letting my anxiety about this make all of my decisions for me.”

Ilya studies his face for a long time, eyes flicking back and forth between his own and then off over his shoulder, still darting around at the thousands of thoughts there. Shane lets him process for as long as he needs.

“Okay,” Ilya says finally, “Hide in plain sight. We can do this.” And when Shane kisses him, they can both taste the relief.

Chapter End Notes

What’s that? You thought this fic would all be shitpost when you clicked on it? Get feelings’d, idiot (lovingly)

Found out after writing this and 90% of the next chapter that I made a decent sized error and had to make a minor edit to an earlier chapter and learn way more about actual NHL divisions about it than I meant to. Sigh.

Final chapter (and possible epilogue) up soon! (Fingers crossed my power stays on in this blizzard.... it's flickered three times already 🥶)

Chapter 5: Combustion

Chapter Notes

No power lost! 🙌 Just snowed in with way too much time to write and now the chapter is way earlier than expected oops oh noooo

They wake early the next morning still tangled up in each other, having not even bothered to move to the other bed. Shane prods Ilya until he gets up and they dress by the light of a single lamp. Later in the day, they’re both slated to appear at a meet and greet with fans back at the arena, but they’ve got some time until then and they plan on using it.

They take Ilya’s rental car out to Discovery Park, where there are few other people out running on the trails but nobody recognizes or approaches them. It’s January, so the wind is a little bracing, but it’s warmer here than either Boston or Montreal this time of year so neither of them minds all that much. They run a sprawling laps, then make it through the trees down to the water in time to see a little bit of the sunrise bathe everything in pale orange. Shane is pretty sure he sees a seal swim by, but Ilya tries to convince him that it’s only a floating coconut. Ilya says he likes the air out here; he forgets, sometimes, how heavy it can feel in Boston. When it gets too cold and windy to stay down by the water any longer, they run back for the cover of the trees, where Shane quadruple checks that they’re alone before stealing a kiss and then challenges Ilya to a race back to the parking lot. Both of them would claim that they win, but really it ends in a tie.

After that, Ilya suggests they go to Pike Place after all to see the gum alley and to take a picture of them flipping off the flagship Starbucks, but Shane rejects both parts of this plan. Instead, they get an americano and a hot tea from some random espresso shack, corporate sponsors be damned.

They run into Scott Hunter in the hotel lobby.

“Early start?” he asks, eyeing their still steaming cups as they make their way in from the chill outside.

“Yeah,” Shane says in a way he hopes sounds casual. “Went for a run. You?”

“Trying to get some pastries before Kip wakes up,” Scott says.

“Good boyfriend,” Ilya says against the lid of his coffee cup, about to take a sip. “So sweet.”

“Ilya,” Shane says mildly, “Don’t be a dick.”

Scott looks back and forth between them, seeming like he has questions she’s dying to ask. If anyone could guess their secret it’s him; Shane is pretty convinced that he’s known, or at least suspected, for a while now. But if anyone knows better than to ask in a public space, it’s also Scott Hunter.

“Guess I’ll see you both later,” he says instead, excusing himself with a nod.

“See you,” Shane says.

“Bye!” Ilya waves with sarcastic enthusiasm, and they go their separate ways.

Reg @regina_not_george90 • 45m

T-MINUS 2 HOURS UNTIL I MEET ILYA ROZANOV this is the best birthday gift anyone has even gotten me i stg

26 comments, 14 retweets, 427 likes

Hollander’s Donut @timbitsforever24 • 40m

Do you think if I ask @shanehollander to sign my donut he’ll take it the wrong way?

34 comments, 116 retweets, 970 likes

Raiders Rule @austinfromboston85• 39m

Flew to Seattle just for All Stars, can’t wait to meet my boy @ilyarozanov81

10 comments, 54 retweets, 98 likes

Erin @erin_in_the_pnw • 38m

Losing my mind at all the pics of Rozy and Hollzy hanging out around town together
[image][image]

78 comments, 431 retweets, 1.3k likes

• Sara Schneider @s_schniedes replying to @erin_in_the_pnw • 33m
  
  Are they friends now??? What is happening????
  
  33 comments, 85 retweets, 679 likes
  
• Summer Watches Hockey @getrealsummer replying to @erin_in_the_pnw • 32m
  
  Those don’t look like Dunkin’ or Tim’s cups
  
  21 comments, 123 retweets, 560 likes
  
  • Lucy “Silly” Goosey @leftylucygoosey replying to @getrealsummer • 30m
    
    They’re in Seattle, at this point anything other than Starbucks is fine
    
    14 comments, 54 retweets, 385 likes
• my name’s not rick @pitterpatrick94 replying to @erin_in_the_pnw • 30m
  
  Looks like a coffee date to me
  
  192 comments, 837 retweets, 2.2k likes
  • Leland G @gdawg7483947 replying to @pitterpatrick94 • 27m
    
    stfu
    
    16 comments, 79 retweets, 220 likes
    
    • my name’s not rick @pitterpatrick94 replying to @gdawg7483947 • 22m
      
      no u
      
      76 comments, 154 retweets, 6.7k likes

The organizers of this fan event have placed Shane and Ilya beside each other, because of course they have. They aren’t the only players here, but they are the most likely for people to want to take pictures with together. The gathering lines of fans are long, but they have event handlers and security nearby ready to move things quickly along. Shane can see jerseys of many colors, including more than a few Montreal red, white, and blue, and Boston black and yellow. He can also see, especially in the line of fans waiting to meet Scott, more rainbow flags and jerseys and hats than he’s seen at any hockey event outside of a pride night. The sight of it makes him want to cry for more reasons than he can identify, his heart thumping in joy while pits of anxiety form in his stomach and throat. If he doesn’t look directly at the crowd of them, he can compartmentalize this feeling until later.

The players put on their meeting-fans faces. Assistants make sure that the All Stars-branded backdrops are falling correctly behind them. Organizers stand by with walkies and extra sharpies. And then security gives a signal and releases the retractable belts on several stanchions and the fans move forward, excited to meet their heroes.

It goes on and on.

This is a ticketed event, but first come first serve, so Shane knows a lot of these fans have been waiting hours for them. The players are divided into sections, so some fans are even going through multiple lines to meet all of their favorites. Shane tries to keep the energy up as well as he can through photo after photo and autograph after autograph. Some want to get photos with just him, but many want pictures with Ilya in them, too. The most popular pose involves the two of them pretending to look angry at each other, which brings Shane right back to the commercial they’d filmed together all those years ago. For a while it has them cracking up the way they did as teens, but soon it all blurs as an hour wears by.

All afternoon, people have wanted to pose with merch and boxes and— especially— coffee cups from either brand, some empty and some full of coffee. Shane is pretty sure there aren’t any Dunkin’ Donuts locations anywhere in all of Seattle, and he knows that the closest Tim Hortons are all in Vancouver, which means the fans are all bringing them from elsewhere. It was pretty funny the first few times, but by the twentieth person to show up with branded merch the joke has lost its charm.

“I’m so sick of coffee,” Shane murmurs to Ilya, his head angled away from as many prying eyes or cameras as possible.

“Me too,” Ilya says, but the next person is already approaching. This man is carrying a large cup of iced coffee from Starbucks, which is at least a nice change of pace in that only one or two people have done that so far. Ilya greets him first, since he’s in a Raiders jersey. He hands his phone to the event assistant nearby so she can take a photo for him, and then he stands between Shane and Ilya.

“Yeah, I want you both in frame for this,” he says, so Shane moves in just a little closer. They take one photo, just the three of them posing normally while the man holds up his coffee like a trophy.

“One more!” assistant tells him cheerfully.

“Can you switch it to video?” the man asks, and the assistant nods and does so with a swipe of her thumb. “It’s recording?”

“Yep!” she says cheerfully. 

“Awesome,” he says.  But abruptly, the man is yelling, “Run on this, bitch!”

And then Shane finds himself doused in 30 ounces of iced coffee.

The cold shock of it hits him like a rough check, like being sent sliding across the ice. Most of it pours across his chest and neck, but some of the milky drink ends up splashing onto his face and up into his hair. He steps back, stunned. It’s long seconds before his body processes things enough to understand what just happened, for him to reach up and wipe the coffee away from his eyes while everything erupts into chaos around him.

When he looks again, security is hauling the man up from the floor and away. He’s got a wild look on his face, a red mark on his cheek, and blood dripping out from between his teeth. Ilya, meanwhile is being held back by three additional security guards and a player from Houston, and he is yelling.

“Don’t touch him!” Ilya spits, “You don’t fucking touch him!”

Shane feels, simultaneously, the coffee soaking through his shirt and dripping down his arms and the weight of all of the cameras in this room that are now pointed this way in the hopes of capturing the commotion. He wants to leave. He wants to ask that guy what the fuck his problem is. He wants to go back in time to before coffee was ever invented and make sure it stays that way. He wants a shower. He wants Ilya to come with him.

“Rozanov,” Shane says. The man in the Raiders jersey has been escorted out of the even space, but Ilya is still fighting back against those holding him like he plans on following. “Ilya!” he tries again, louder.

Ilya stills. He turns his head to look at Shane and stops straining. Shane jerks his head in the direction of the exit. Ilya relaxes enough that the other men loosen their grips and then slowly let go. He straightens out his shirt and holds his hands up in front of him to show he isn’t going to try to go after the guy anymore. Event organizers are running up to Shane with paper towels. He takes one wad to blot at his face and waves the rest off and steps over the discarded cup at his feet to go. Ilya follows.

They have to walk past a considerable amount of the now coffee stained backdrop to make a path to an exit that doesn’t cut through the crowd of keyed up fans. Shane fixes his gaze ahead and doesn’t respond to any of them. He knows without looking that Ilya is right behind him.

Hot Hockey Goss ✓@MLHbutpetty • 26m

BREAKING: Boston fan attacks Shane Hollander with iced coffee at All Stars meet and greet, Ilya Rozanov steps to his defense
[video]

524 comments, 3.4k retweets, 51k likes

• Feeling Pucky @bbly28996 replying to @MLHbutpetty • 22m
  
  What the actual fuck is wrong with people
  
  16 comments, 53 retweets, 204 likes
  
  
• Sara Schneider @s_schniedes replying to @MLHbutpetty • 21m
  
  Oh that man is straight up defending his honor
  
  34 comments, 103 retweets, 829 likes

TMZ ✓ @TMZ • 24m

Ilya Rozanov attempts to fight fan after coffee prank at MLH All Stars fan photo op
[video]

867 comments, 7.8k retweets, 73k likes

• my name’s not rick @pitterpatrick94 • 21m
  
  I’m sorry, prank?????
  
  28 comments, 577 retweets, 1.8k likes
  
  
• Rozy’s Wife @meghaneightyone replying to @TMZ • 20m
  
  FOUR MEN had to hold him back I’m frothing at the mouth
  
  46 comments, 695 retweets, 1.3k likes

Hollander’s Donut @timbitsforever24 • 22m

I got to meet him like 5 minutes before this happened and he was so nice! Why would someone do this to our boy?
[image]

20 comments, 68 retweets, 576 likes

Shade Hoelander @shanehoelander2424 • 19m

Hollander leaving that fan event looking pissed as hell with Rozy two steps behind him like a scary guard dog is doing things to me actually

86 comments, 903 retweets, 2.4k likes

Feeling Pucky @bbly28996 • 17m

Hollander is never doing a meet and greet again, I hope you’re all happy

104 comments, 785 retweets, 1.9k likes

Shane barely pauses to take his shoes off before heading into the bathroom when they get back to their hotel room. The soles squelched uncomfortably with liquid the whole way back from the arena, through the sky bridge connecting it to the hotel, through the halls and elevators back to their room. He and Ilya didn’t say much of anything until now.

“Are you okay?” Ilya asks when he closes the door behind them.

Shane peels off the long sleeved Metros tee that he picked out for the event and tosses it to the floor near the shower. He’s not sure if the coffee will wash out of the blue fabric or not. His undershirt is a goner, so he throws it directly into the bathroom trash. He throws his socks in there as well.

“That guy,” Shane says instead or answering Ilya, “You punched him?”

“Did not get chance,” Ilya growls, standing with his arms folded in the bathroom doorway. “I tried but guards tackled him. His face hit the floor, I think. Deserved it, fucking asshole.”

Shane nods. That’s good, he wouldn’t want Ilya to end up in trouble for finishing something some other shitty person started. His pants are somewhat coffee free, and he likes these jeans so he removes his phone and wallet from his pockets and puts them on the bathroom counter, slides off his pant, and throws them into the pile with his shirt.

“You are okay?” Ilya repeats, “You are not hurt?”

“Not hurt,” Shane says, “Pissed the fuck off, though.”

Ilya relaxes, but only a little. “Me too,” he says. He pushes off of the doorframe and steps fully into the bathroom. He comes close to Shane without touching, but his hands hover like he wants to. “You look…” he hesitates, searching across Shane’s face and then his naked torso. “Sticky,” he finishes.

“Thanks,” Shane says flatly. He sighs. “I’m so fucking sick of coffee.”

“I don’t know,” Ilya says, “I could go for another cup.”

“Fuck you,” Shane says, but at least he’s laughing again. He doesn’t know how Ilya always knows how to do that. Then he sighs again, resigned. “There were so many fucking cameras. That’s going to be everywhere in ten minutes.”

“Probably already is,” Ilya says, dropping his hovering hand to his side.

Shane scrubs a hand down his face. “So much for subtle,” he says.

“Sorry,” Ilya says. “I wanted to protect you. I was not quiet.”

“No, you weren’t.” Shane shakes his head, trying to clear away a multitude of thoughts and anxieties. “I don’t think we’re good at this hiding in plain sight thing.”

“Not our strongest skills,” Ilya agrees. “Might be too late to change our minds, though.”

Shane flexes his hands a few times, fighting against a loss of feeling in them. Happens sometimes from nerves. “So what, then?”

“So we keep going,” Ilya says, calm in the face of all of it. Maybe it’s just a show for Shane, but it works. “Not even hiding, just… not announcing from billboard.”

Shane snorts at the phrasing. “You're saying we just don't advertise it, when we’ve literally been having an ad war for the last three months.”

“You started it,” Ilya says.

“I did not!” Shane says back.

“You did.” Ilya puts his hands on Shane’s waist and rubs one thumb lazily over the waistband of his briefs. “I made innocent little Dunkin’ ad. You lit the fire.”

“Fuck,” Shane says, “You’re right.”

“I am usually,” Ilya says.

“But, for what it’s worth,” Shane says decisively, “I am done making those ads.”

“No more sexy yoga model Hollander?” Ilya looks genuinely disappointed.

“No,” Shane says.

“Hm,” Ilya pouts. “Not even one?”

“Absolutely not,” Shane says, “Now are you going to take your clothes off, too, or do I have to shower alone?”

Ilya fights a smile. “You don’t want that, you would miss me too much.”

“Tragically so,” Shane says with an eye roll.

“Then I will do this for you,” Ilya says with a grin, already reaching to tug his shirt off.

MLH ✓ @MLH • 2h

We are aware of the incident at the All Stars Weekend meet and greet and are gathering more information at this time. The safety of all players and fans is our top priority.

648 comments, 1.1k retweets, 26k likes

Dunkin’ ✓ @dunkindonuts • 1h

We at Dunkin’ do not condone the actions of the individual that attended the MLH All Stars fan event today. Remember, sportsmanship begins with respect, in and outside of the game.

207 comments, 1.2k retweets, 18k likes

Tim Hortons ✓ @TimHortons • 51m

Rivalries are only fun when they’re friendly! Let’s keep each other safe in this sport we all love. Thankful to event staff for their quick response.

362 comments, 1.9k retweets, 21k likes

When Shane finally looks at his phone again it’s filled with calls and texts. Ilya’s is the same. Shane ignores most messages, but opens the thread with his mom to let her know that he’s doing okay.

“My agent says brands are mad,” Ilya says as he scrolls through his own phone, “We are viral for wrong reason, make them look bad.”

Shane’s mom is saying the same. “Fuck them, honestly,” he mumbles as he taps out another reply.

“Twitter has many opinions,” Ilya says, continuing to click around and scroll.

“Nothing new there,” Shane says. His mom is starting to talk about pressing charges, which he’s not about to do. He’d rather this whole thing fizzle out as quickly as possible.

Then Ilya laughs. “This person is saying ‘lattes on Hollander after all,’ is pretty good actually.”

Shane laughs as well despite himself, even as he says, “You asshole.” It does all feel just a little bit funnier, now that he’s had a hot shower and can’t feel the stickiness of that coffee anymore. The hotel robe is soft against his skin and he feels at least fifty percent more like a person again.

“What? Is not me saying it,” Ilya says innocently, “Is internet stranger.”

Then, a tinny and chaotic sound is playing from Ilya’s phone speaker; the noise of a crowd, followed by Ilya’s voice as he shouts “Don’t touch him! You don’t fucking touch him!” and then more unintelligible chaos.

“They have a lot of angles of this,” Ilya says and locks his phone and tucks it away in his pocket.

Shane runs a hand through his still wet hair. Reality settles cold around him. “We’ll have to make some kind of statements. My mom is going to help me come up with something.”

“Is nice to have someone think of your tweets for you,” Ilya says, as though he doesn’t have a team of perfectly good people he could call on to help with this exact thing.

“I’m sure she’d help you with yours, too, if we asked,” Shane offers, half seriously.

“No, is okay,” Ilya says, “I got this.”

Shane Hollander ✓ @shanehollander • 11m

Thanks to everyone checking in. I’m fine, just disappointed. Fan behavior like this crosses a line. Competition is fun, but @ilyarozanov81 and I are friends off the ice. We hope everyone will remember that we players are people underneath all the padding.

489 comments, 6.5k retweets, 24.5k likes

Ilya Rozanov ✓@ilyarozanov81 • 9m

I said what I said.

830 comments, 13k retweets, 42k likes

They’re both set to fly out early the next day, right back to the fast pace of mid season. They’ve got games against Toronto on consecutive days, then Shane is headed to St. Louis and Ilya to New York, and then a game against each other in Montreal at the end of the week. Back to the grind. Plenty of the other guys, the ones who have games tomorrow, have left already.

There’s an optional send off party for the players that are left and their guests. Shane doesn’t want to take that option, but he thinks about how much worse it will be if he’s the guy who had a shitty fan experience and then sulked in his room all night, and especially thinks about how that will look if Ilya hides in his room with him. The event is casual, so he dresses in one of the outfit formulas that his stylist recommended; dark jeans, black tee, a light jacket. Ilya wears a thin white shirt with such a deep V that Shane keeps getting distracted and pants with all these extraneous strings and things that are probably designer and cost more than Shane’s modest and reliable car. He looks so effortlessly good that Shane almost reconsiders going anywhere, but then he spirals back to saving face again.

When they get to the upscale private lounge space where the party is being held, nearly every player he runs into is eager to tell him what happened was fucked up, to the point that Shane feels both supported by his peers and pinned like a bug under a magnifying glass. Some of the guys he talks to are the ones he considers downright assholes on the ice, but outside of the context of the game plenty of them know how to act like decent guys. He supposes the same could be said for Ilya. It’s not all across the board, and he’s sure he’s going to be the butt of more than a few locker room jokes and faceoff chirps from now on, but it’s a nice reminder anyway.

Even Adrian Bowe, an alternate captain from Philly who Shane has been avoiding talking to directly all weekend, takes the time to apologize for his team’s behavior 

“So sorry man,” Bowe tells Shane. “We should have shut that shit down after our game last week, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

Shane can only respond with the same stock phrase he’s been repeating since he walked in: “It is what it is.” He hopes that he can project an air of cool and unbothered enough times that it will manifest into reality. It works well enough that most of the guys— Bowe included— just give him a slap on the shoulder and move on. Maybe he should come up with a few more phrases to use, though.

Ilya stays close by, but not glued to his side; not after the third person to make a joke about Rozanov being Hollander’s new attack dog, to which Ilya responds, “Yes, good thing he keeps me on tight leash.” This makes Shane nearly choke on his drink, so Ilya decides then that it would be good to take a lap or two around and find himself something to eat from the passed hors d’oeuvre trays. Shane tries not to feel naked without him.

He spots Scott, alone at one of those tall cocktail tables that Shane as always found awkward to stand at.

“Hey,” Shane greets him. “Where’s Kip?”

“Getting refills,” Scott says, and jiggles his glass of ice for emphasis. “Told him we didn’t have to come to all of these, but he’s having fun.”

“Good,” Shane says vaguely. He sets his (also empty) glass in the table. It’s pretty loud in here, between the chatter and the music. Shane’s heart pounds suddenly, but he knows this is the perfect time to ask, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Scott says, tight and unreadable.

Shane clears his throat and drops his voice as low as he can while still hoping Scott can hear him. “How has it actually been for you since coming out?”

Scott doesn’t seem surprised by the question so much as the fact that Shane has asked it in the first place. “It hasn’t all been easy, people have said a lot of shit to me.” He says slowly, then shrugs, not like he thinks it’s okay, but like he knows it’s all stuff they’ve heard before, what’re-you-gonna-do. “Thrown a few things at me, too,” he adds.

Shane half laughs, just a little puff of air through his nose. That sounds about right.

“But it’s all been better than I ever expected,” Scott continues. “I mean, I held onto it for so long, kept so much of myself hidden away. I was terrified and miserable.” He hesitates, and then tacks on, “But something tells me I might not have to tell you what that part feels like.”

Shane fiddles with his empty glass. Fuck. This was such a mistake. He can’t cry here. He shakes his head no, the movement restrained.

“Then all I can say,” Scott says, “Is that nothing anyone throws at me can take away the feeling of not living like that anymore.”

Shane swallows thickly and looks away from Scott, blinking up at the lights above them. He’s not sure he can form a proper response to that, not even a thank you.

“And you’re stilling playing,” Shane says instead to the overhead lights.

“Yeah,” Scott confirms, “Still playing.”

Shane is saved from the further embarrassment of this conversation continuing by Kip emerging at Scott’s side. He’s so much smaller than the other men here that sometimes it’s like he appears and disappears by magic. Shane isn’t the biggest guy in the league by far, but he thinks maybe that would be a useful talent to have.

“Hey, Shane.” He waves, and Shane waves back. “Sorry, that took forever,” he says, handing off one of his two drinks to Scott. “Bartender was hardcore flirting.”

“He can’t tell you’re taken?” Scott squints over at the bar, eyes like daggers.

“Oh, no,” Kip corrects, “Not with me.” He takes a sip of his drink and watches Ilya approach them over the rim of his glass.

Ilya barely acknowledges the two of them, just sidles in beside Shane and sets two drinks on cocktails napkins down on the table. Shane doesn’t really want a second drink, not with the early flight out he has tomorrow.

But: “They have your ginger ale,” Ilya says, and slides the drink closer to Shane with one finger. Shane accepts it gratefully. Kip is looking between the two of them like he’s won the gay lottery (again).

Shane decides to prod at Ilya, like pressing on a bruise. “I hear the bartender was flirty.”

“He was,” Ilya says easily. He flips his own cocktail napkin over to reveal a phone number scrawled across the other side. Then he sets his drink back down on top of it, the condensation soaking into the paper and blurring the ballpoint pen numbers into illegibility.

Shane looks down at where they each have a hand resting on the the table top. He reaches his pinky over to tap against Ilya’s own. Ilya immediately wraps his pinky over Shane’s, links it and keeps it there. The world does not explode. Hiding in plain sight, and not really hiding in the slightest.

“So, how long have you two…?” Scott, stilted in asking, trails off. He probably assumed this is a normal and safe question to ask a couple, and probably doesn’t expect the response he gets.

“Um,” Shane stammers, “I mean, well technically, but not really— it’s hard to—”

Ilya stills him with a squeeze of his hand where their pinkies are still connected. He laughs into his drink. “Trust me. You do not want the answer to that question.”

Chapter End Notes

Me: What a solid outline I’ve made, this will probably be about 15k words, 3 chapters, nice clean 3 act story
The goblin who lives in my brain: add 16 extra scenes. And an epilogue.
Me: sure thing, boss 🫡

That is to say, I’m putting the last little piece of this into a separate epilogue so the ending I've had in mind the whole time has space to breathe, and that should be up soon. In the meantime, comments and kudos greatly appreciated! Everyone has been so lovely on all my fics recently, it means a lot 🥹💖

Chapter 6: Smolder

Chapter Notes

Kind of sad to bring this one to an end, but so satisfied with what the process of writing it felt like. Enjoy! 💕

Epilogue

“Heck of a game after a long week for both of you, coming off of your All Stars win in Seattle last weekend. How did it feel to go back to playing against each other after sharing a bench so recently?”

“Was fun. I almost forget how annoying it is to have to steal puck from him instead of getting passes. But it makes the season feel real again after small break.”

“That’s true. It’s always an adjustment, there’s a fast turn around between working with a whole new set of guys, to going back to our usual lines and playing against them again. I always find it a refreshing change of pace, though, a chance to break outside of the standard strategies and get some new perspectives.”

“And it was certainly an eventful weekend for you both.”

“…yes, it was.”

“Shane, I have to ask about the incident at the fan event on Sunday. We’ve seen an increase of security around you lately, but how have you been handling things since then?”

“The same way you handle anything this game throws at you. You move on, stay focused. I’ve got games, travel, practice. It crossed a line, and broke a lot of boundaries that we expect people to respect, but I’ve got my team to lead. Honestly, I haven’t spent much time thinking about it.”

“Thank you. And Ilya, videos of you trying to fight that same fan have gone viral. You’ve made a few mentions of it all week, care to add to your earlier comments?”

“Yes. So what? He attacks someone I care about, you expect me to stand around? I do not do this, is not my style.”

“You said you care about Shane? So would the two of you say that you’re friends?”

“We’re close.”

“Yeah, I respect the heck out of him as a player, and over the years I’ve gotten to know and respect him as a person, too.”

“He is Shane Hollander, second best player! And you see this face? Impossible not to like.”

[laughter from press core]

“Touch my face again, Rozanov, and we’re going to have a real problem.”

“He likes it, don’t let him lie to you.”

[more laughter]

“With or against each other, your playing is always impressive. Would you say the rivalry between you two is squashed? Or has it always been played up by the media?”

“No, not necessarily. The rivalry is real, to many extents, but we don’t hate each other. We never have. We try to leave it all on the ice, use that feeling of competition to play the best hockey we can.”

“Makes us better players. I still want to crush every record he has ever won, but maybe we still go out for coffee afterwards.”

“Maybe tea instead.”

[scattered laughter]

“Speaking of coffee, do you think your participation in these highly visible ad campaigns and playing up the rivalry angle on social media has contributed to such a volatile fan response, or even become a distraction from the game itself? And will the events of the past few weeks change how you approach these partnerships?”

“Now is an important time for our teams. I think we’ll both continue to work with the brands going forward, but I imagine that will have to take a backseat as we move towards the end of the regular season and start setting our sights on the playoffs.”

“I agree with this. But is not last time you see me in ads. I’m too pretty to hide.”

Three and a half months later, Shane is retaping his stick for the third time in 20 minutes in anticipation of tonight’s game. Now is not the time to cut corners or settle for subpar preparation; not when so much is riding on every single one of these games. Shane has kept his nose to the grindstone, despite everything this season has thrown at him, literally and metaphorically, through fans and opposing teams trying to get under his skin about the All Stars incident until interest finally fizzled out, through internet speculation that makes his skin crawl but that he’s done little to dispel, through the usual ups and downs of this level of athletic competition. Rising above the noise is what he’s always had to do, and this time it’s shaping up to seriously pay off. Every meetup of the conference finals has been played hungry and brutal so far, and game four doesn’t look like it will be any different.

The locker room around him buzzes with activity and noise; music plays from someone’s speakers, guys are laughing and chirping and hyping each other up, someone is tapping a stick against the floor, rhythmic with superstitious regularity. It’s comforting, cuts through the usual pre-warmup jitters as Shane tries to get his head on straight. Well, not straight, per se.

And then JJ is in front of him, phone in hand and expression both irritated and amused. “Looks like Rozanov is at it again.”

Hayden leans in close to get a good look at the screen. “Jesus,” he says, “That’s not even pretending to be about the coffee anymore.”

Nearby, one of the younger guys, Casey St. John, is scrolling through his phone as well. “He also just tweeted ‘thirsty for victory?’ and tagged the Metros team account,” he says, and then adds, significantly, “Looks more like he’s trying to get someone’s attention.”

“You follow Rozanov on Twitter, SlimJim?” Hayden asks. He sounds betrayed.

“What, you don’t?” St. John asks back.

Shane snorts and sets about tying his skates. “Like Rozanov needs my permission to make more shirtless commercials.”

“You’ve seen it already?” JJ asks, sounding almost disappointed.

Yes, Shane has seen it. Ilya is on a new billboard. This one has him holding a cup of black iced coffee up beside himself. He is giving the coffee a sideways look. The cup drips with condensation, and Ilya is wet like he’s just finished an intense workout or climbed out of a pool, his hair slicked back with it the way it is when they shower together. The image is cropped just below his collarbone, but it’s clear that he’s shirtless. Beside the cup, large pink and orange lettering proclaims: THIRST TRAP.

“Yeah,” Shane says, tying the lace tight, “I helped him pick the best shot.”

“Ha! Good one, Cap,” JJ says, and puts his phone away.

“That’s not going to help those crazy rumors, Shane,” Hayden says, good natured, shaking his head and going back to putting his gear on. “You think Rozanov’s trying to throw you off your game?”

“Nah,” Shane says and moves to the other skate, “He’s just salty that Boston’s out of the playoffs.” This gets a chorus of whoops and cuts off all talk of Ilya and coffee, the way he hoped it would. Shane finishes with his skates, stands. “All right, time to saddle up, boys,” he calls out in his captain voice. “We’ve got a damn game to win.”

The other men cheer. Behind him in his stall, his phone lights up with a text. Before he even checks, he knows who it is.

“How is this one?”

Shane looks over the photo that Ilya has snapped. Most of the frame is taken up by Ilya’s coffee mug, with Shane’s own visible in the background. Shane’s hands are wrapped around it, but the rest of him is cropped out, slightly off to the side. It’s clearly him, though. Behind Shane, the lake glitters in morning summer light. No one has to know that the beans are actually from a small local roaster that they both like better than the large brands they’ve been paid so much to promote. It’s okay if people know that they’re at the cottage.

Shane takes the phone from him and inspects it closely. “Looks good.”

“I also have one of you stretching this morning,” Ilya says, “Could post that instead.”

“This one is perfect,” Shane says, and hands the phone back. “Save the other for your personal stash.”

“Okay,” Ilya says happily, and starts typing out a post.

Ilya Rozanov ✓ @ilyarozanov81 • 1h

He has terrible taste in almost everything, but I like him anyway
[image]

647 comments, 4.5k retweets, 63k likes

• Feeling Pucky @bbly28996 replying to @ilyarozanov81 • 54m
  
  Am I going insane or is that Hollander’s cottage @s_schniedes @hattie_mason5439
  
  48 comments, 376 retweets, 1.3k likes
  
  • Hat Trick @hattie_mason5439 replying to @bbly28996 • 50m
    
    They’re hanging out?? In the off season?????!!!
    
    21 comments, 173 retweets, 940 likes
• my name’s not rick @pitterpatrick94 replying to @ilyarozanov81 • 48m
  
  Peace and love on planet earth
  
  92 comments, 633 retweets, 2.4k likes
• Shade Hoelander @shanehoelander2424 replying to @ilyarozanov81 • 45m
  
  Is it weird if I say I want them to kiss?
  
  130 comments, 1.5k retweets, 4.3k likes
  
  • Ilya Rozanov ✓ @ilyarozanov81 replying to @shanehoelander2424 • 39m
    
    Not weird
    
    875 comments, 7.9k retweets, 27k likes
    
    • Shade Hoelander @shanehoelander2424 replying to @ilyarozanov81 • 37m
      
      HELLO??
      
      56 comments, 84 retweets, 3.6k likes

Shane Hollander ✓ @shanehollander retweeted @ilyarozanov81 • 31m

I picked you, didn’t I?

1.4k comments, 26k retweets, 73k likes

• Ilya Rozanov ✓ @ilyarozanov81 replying to @shanehollander • 30m
  
  I said almost ;)
  
  798 comments, 17k retweets, 57.5k likes

Chapter End Notes

And that's a wrap! (EDIT: except for some bonus content posted as chapter 7)

Thanks for being here for this, this fandom has been so lovely ☺️💕

If you'd like to find me on tumblr, I'm there off and on (I can log off anytime I like, but I can never leave)

Otherwise, leave me a comment or kudos here if you liked this one! I'm sure I'll be back here posting again soon :)

Chapter 7: Bonus

Surprise! Hi friends! This is not a true extra chapter, but a little bit of bonus content. I've got some other drafts that aren't quite making it off the ground yet, so I came back here and dusted off my (extremely rusty tbh) photoshop skills to bring a few of the static ads to life (sadly I cannot work miracles and photoshop entire videos). Maybe not perfect, but I'll take good old fashioned manual photo manipulation any day over AI slop. This is organic, homegrown photoshopping that I probably spent too much time on 😅

First we have Ilya's final Thirst Trap billboard:

Imagine that 20 feet tall above I95.

Then we have Shane's airport ad:

I died three times making this one (by which I mean the file corrupted and I lost a ton on work and had to revive it from only a screenshot with the layers flattened 😵). Please clap.

Okay that's it, thanks bye!! 😘💖