Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Lisa Hayes (Game Changers), Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau, Anya | Ilya Rozanov's Dog

Additional Tags:

Cats, Ilya Rozanov is Obsessed With Shane Hollander, Married Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, Ilya Rozanov Is Definitely Allergic to Cats, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Slice of Life, Humor, Good Friend Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau, Post-Canon

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-09-28 Words: 9,068 Chapters: 1/1

Ilya Rozanov Is Definitely Not Allergic to Cats

Summary

"Shane," Ilya says slowly. "Are you aware you are holding a cat?"

Shane has the decency to look slightly sheepish, as Ilya steps forward, the kitten peering at him with large green eyes while he reaches out a hesitant hand to lightly brush his finger against the cat's nose.

"Um, so a funny thing happened," Shane begins, and Ilya knows he's about to launch into a lengthy explanation. "We were out for our jog, and this kitten started running with us, so Anya just gently picked it up by the scruff of its neck and started carrying it, and I couldn't just leave it, you know? And when I took it from Anya it just curled up in my jacket like it knew it was safe, and I know this is kind of impulsive and our lives are crazy, but…" he finally stops and takes a deep breath, his gaze locking with Ilya's. "I think I want to keep this cat."

Anya wags her tail and barks, and Ilya looks from Shane's endless dark brown eyes down to the striking green ones that close as the kitten yawns so widely Ilya can see all of its tiny baby teeth. It's too cute. He's a goner. 'Fuck', he thinks, 'I'm totally screwed' and then promptly sneezes.

Notes

this is based on a prompt given to me by kwixxotik over on tumblr. it was meant to be a quick, silly little ditty and 9,000 words later, here we are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

there's some things you might need to suspend your disbelief on with this one. obviously, ilya would probably try some meds. obviously, he would probably have a doctor to go to that isn't lisa hayes. obviously there's lots of things you can do when you're allergic to cats. just enjoy it.

also there's words like cocks and slits in here, and people touching said cocks and slits so it's an e rating.

enjoy!

Ilya Rozanov loves his life. He's married to the perfect man that he's so in love with he doesn't blame people for hating them. (He's seen the videos of them together, the way they look at each other is pretty sickening in the best possible way.) They live together and play on the same fucking amazing team, and thanks to a poorly-timed kiss caught on video, the whole world knows about them. And, as if that isn't enough, to top it all off, Ilya has a dog. The sweetest most wonderful princess angel baby to ever exist.

It's so much more than he ever could have possibly hoped to have, especially on lazy summer mornings like this where Shane wakes up first and takes Anya for a run while Ilya scrolls on his phone in bed and then goes down to make breakfast for Shane and himself, before they spend all day touching each other in one way or another. And Ilya has big plans for them today that may or may not include blowjobs on the deck before the large maple trees along his back fence get trimmed tomorrow.

And sure, there's still some rough days here and there, but he's coping well with therapy and medication helps, and on those worst of days, Shane is there and Anya is there, and Ilya's support system is never more than a phone call away.

It's good. Life is really fucking good.

On this particular morning, he's just finished making Shane's protein shake and putting a tray of cinnamon rolls in the oven when Shane walks back through the front door, Anya's tags jingling happily as ever and Ilya can hear her panting from the long jog Shane's just taken her on. He smiles, his heart near to bursting in his chest just from the sounds of his family coming home.

"Welcome home, my loves!" he calls out, placing Anya's water bowl down at her station in the kitchen, only briefly wondering why she hasn't rushed in yet ahead of Shane. When they finally round the corner, Anya jumping at Shane's leg excitedly, the reason becomes clear.

Because there in front of him, nestled into Shane's zipped up jacket, is a small, cream colored kitten that had definitely not been there when he left the house.

"Shane," Ilya says slowly. "Are you aware you are holding a cat?"

Shane has the decency to look slightly sheepish, as Ilya steps forward, the kitten peering at him with large green eyes while he reaches out a hesitant hand to lightly brush his finger against the cat's nose.

"Um, so a funny thing happened," Shane begins, and Ilya knows he's about to launch into a lengthy explanation. "We were out for our jog, and this kitten started running with us, and so we stopped and I tried to find the mom or any other kittens but there was nothing, and I rang the doorbell of some of the houses nearby but no one knew anything, and it just kept following us and it couldn't keep up very well because I'm sure its starving, so Anya just gently picked it up by the scruff of its neck and started carrying it, and I couldn't just leave it, you know?"

Ilya does know. He knows all too well. He glances at Anya, her excited face eagerly waiting for a chance to see her new friend, again.

"And when I took it from Anya it just curled up in my jacket like it knew it was safe," Shane goes on, "and I know this is kind of impulsive and our lives are crazy, but…" he finally stops and takes a deep breath, his gaze locking with Ilya's. "I think I want to keep this cat."

Anya wags her tail and barks, and Ilya looks from Shane's endless dark brown eyes down to the striking green ones that close as the kitten yawns so widely Ilya can see all of its tiny baby teeth. It's too cute. He's a goner. Fuck, he thinks, I'm totally screwed and then promptly sneezes.

Several hours and one vet visit with a clean bill of health and double x chromosome confirmation later, Ilya finds himself walking through the aisle of the pet store, cart filled to the brim with all the supplies the newest member of their family could possibly need. He offers to push the cart while Shane carries the kitten, still dozing peacefully in his arms, hoping that if Ilya can keep himself far enough back, he can stop the itching of his palms and the constant urge to sneeze.

He has the growing suspicion that he might be allergic to the adorable, dander-ridden being who seems perfectly content to spend her life perched with Shane. And Ilya's not going to complain. Not when Shane seems so happy and the cat is so cute he feels the urge to bite her. Not to mention how supportive Shane had been when he'd made the rather impulsive decision to get Anya. He'll find a way to make it work, even if he has to suffer a bit. Sniffles weren't that bad in the grand scheme of things.

"She seems really content," Shane muses happily as Ilya puts a giant bag of cat food into the cart.

"I would be too, if you held me all day long," Ilya replies with a wink that leaves Shane's cheeks pink.

Shane comes to stand closer to him, eyes echoing the mischief in Ilya's. "You're not jealous are you?"

"Mmm, very," Ilya hums, closing the minimal space between them so his nose brushes Shane's. "What must it be like to be loved by Shane Hollander?"

"You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" Shane says, voice deep and enthralling to Ilya's ears.

"I might know a thing or two," he replies before he places a lingering kiss to Shane's lips, reveling in how Shane leans into him. Ilya lets his eyes flutter closed at the contact, letting the feeling of being loved and wanted so wholly that Shane would forget they're standing in the middle of a cat food aisle wash over him. It's just another perfect moment he can add to the ever growing list of perfect moments. That is, until he makes the mistake of breathing in through his nose.

His body's response is instant, a string of five sneezes wracking his chest so hard, he bends at the waist from the force of them, the sound ringing high and loud around them. When he's finished, he notices Shane staring at him in concern, his body slightly angled away to protect the cat.

"Do you think you might be allergic to her?" Shane asks, the worry instant in his voice as he looks from Ilya to the cat with a sad expression.

Ilya shakes his head emphatically. "No, of course not," he tries soothe, but it comes out slightly strangled as he still tries to recover from the sneeze attack. He has to fix this. He can't let Shane know what the issue is. He refuses to ruin this for him. "I'm sure it's just…" his eyes dart around as he searches for some kind of excuse as to what just happened. His brain latches onto the first thing he sees. "Lizards," he offers, gesturing to the glass terrariums on the other side of the aisle. "I'm allergic to lizards."

People could totally be allergic to lizards, right?

Shane blinks, his gaze following Ilya's hand toward the completely innocent geckos sunning themselves on rocks in the artificial light. "Lizards," he says enunciating each syllable, as if it might help him understand.

"Yep. Lizards," Ilya doubles down, only just keeping himself from cringing at how stupid it sounds now that it's out of his mouth.

Shane looks skeptical. "That sounds made up."

"It's not?" Ilya hates how much it sounds like a question. "It's not," he repeats, knowing he's going to have to expound on this. "I had a lizard in Boston, but I found out I was allergic and couldn't keep it."

"You never told me you had a lizard in Boston," Shane's says, his head cocking to the side as his brow draws down. "Or that you were allergic to them?"

"Well," Ilya laughs lightly and scratches at the back of his neck nervously. "We were a little busy fucking and pretending it meant nothing. Lizard news wasn't exactly at the top of my list."

"What was its name?"

Fuck. How could he have forgotten to factor in Shane's propensity to ask a million follow up questions?

"Uh, his name was…" Ilya sees something spinning in a wheel further down the aisle. "Mr. Hamster."

"Your lizard was named Mr. Hamster?"

"Yep," he says simply, trying to avoid any more questions, not at all confident at his ability to spin this lie to Shane. But of course his husband has other ideas on the matter.

"What did you do with it when you found out you were allergic?"

His mind races. Boston. Boston. Where could he have possibly unloaded a lizard in Boston? He could have said he simply returned it. Maybe set it free in a park. But instead, inexplicably, he lands on, "Cliff took him for me."

Shane eyes bug out and he looks at Ilya as if he's grown a second head. "You gave a lizard to Cliff Marlow? To keep alive?"

"It does defy a certain logic, I suppose," he concedes with a shrug. "But Cliff is fine. The lizard was fine."

As fine as a made up Mr. Hamster could be, thank you very much.

"You told me once Cliff couldn't count to three," Shane counters, his expression still full of disbelief at Ilya entrusting a living being to Cliff Marlow.

"Yes, well, I think I also had my fingers in your ass at the time I said that, so what's your point?" Ilya says low and pointed, incredibly ready to be done with the conversation.

Shane sighs, but balances the kitten in one hand so he can take Ilya's in the other as they begin to walk toward the toys. "I'm glad it all worked out I guess. Maybe we can visit Mr. Hamster the next time we're in Boston," he says, and Ilya smiles at the idea of Shane being willing to visit a lizard that had once theoretically been important to Ilya.

"Probably best if we don't with the allergy and everything," Ilya says, and Shane hums in agreement, while Ilya feels a little guilty. But he knows the stupid lie is worth it if Shane gets to keep the cat. "I want to see if they have any of those crinkly tunnel things. I read online they're good stimulation for them."

And as he watches Shane weigh the pros and cons of the tunnel with a rainbow hanging toy versus one without, he manages to send a text to Cliff.

If Shane ever asks you about a lizard, just say Mr. Hamster is alive and well and thriving.

He's not at all surprised when Cliff answers back with a simple, 🫡

When they make it home, they spend the next couple of hours watching Anya play with her new sibling. She's gentle and patient with the kitten, correcting her when she needs it, but also mostly letting the cat climb all over her and bat playfully at her nose. They remind him of those unlikely animal friend videos, and he's not sure he's ever been more proud. Of course Anya would be the best at this. She is his dog after all.

He sits in a chair at the far end of the room that neither of them ever frequents and while Shane does give him a questioning look, he blessedly doesn't say anything as his attention is soon focused solely on the adorable scene in front of them.

When she finally tires, the tiny cream-colored kitten jumps onto the couch and curls herself up into a ball on Shane's chest, and if his eyes weren't already watering due to the thing he's refusing to admit he has, Ilya might have cried from the sight of it. The small, private smile on Shane's lips as he lightly strokes her back while she purrs and nuzzles her head into his chin is enough to make his knees feel weak from the overwhelming cuteness.

"What should we name her?" Shane asks and Ilya pauses to think, reaching for a tissue to wipe at his nose, trying his best to hide his traitorous body's reaction to the newest member of their family from his husband.

"Some kind of food name," he finally decides as Anya climbs into his lap panting in his face while she waits for pets. "Cats with food names are cuter. It's just a fact."

"And you know this how?"

Ilya pauses petting Anya's head and brings up his phone showing Shane the profiles he follows on Instagram belonging to Cookie, Nacho, Noodle, and Mochi. Because while Ilya is a dog person by and large, he's absolutely not immune to cute cat content. In fact, he almost considers himself an expert on it.

"See?" he says after showing Shane some Very Important Content. "Cuter."

Shane's smile grows wider as he lightly laughs, his chest shaking enough to earn him a disgruntled meow from the currently nameless kitten. He coos at her and apologizes, scratching behind her ears until she settles back against him, as Shane chews at his cheek in thought.

"Her color does kind of remind me a little bit of tofu," Shane says and Ilya is instantly offended on the kitten's behalf.

"You cannot name her after healthy food, Shane," he says with disdain. "She can't carry that burden her whole life. She is just a baby."

Shane puts a hand on the back of the kitten and scoffs. "What would you have me name her then? Angus burger with cheese?"

Ilya taps his finger against his chin, appearing to ponder the option seriously while Shane rolls his eyes. "It does have a nice ring to it."

"You're ridiculous," Shane says with no bite to it. "Besides, you got to name Anya without my input, so I think I should get this one."

"Fine," Ilya groans dramatically. "Name her after health food, see if I care."

"Says a man who named a lizard Mr. Hamster," Shane shoots back and Ilya doesn't even try to hide his answering smile as Shane pats at the space next to him on the couch. "Come sit with me and Tofu."

Ilya knows it's a bad idea, but he's very much missing out on his original plan to spend all day touching Shane, so he's rising to his feet before he even realizes it, Anya giving him a disgruntled look at being displaced. He sits next to them, his head leaning against Shane's shoulder as he wills himself not to sneeze. It works for the most part, and he decides the growing stuffiness of his nose is well worth it as Shane kisses his head.

"Thank you for this. I love you so much," Shane says quietly, and Ilya closes his eyes against the sweetness of it (and maybe the growing wateriness of his eyes due to his proximity to the cat he's maybe, definitely 100% allergic to, but that's neither here nor there.)

"Are you talking to me or your terribly named cat?" Ilya teases and loves when he feels Shane shake with laughter.

"Definitely the cat."

The next couple of days are fine. Ilya mostly keeps his distance as best he can in his own home, grateful that Shane agrees to keeping Tofu out of the bedroom so he at least gets peace when he sleeps, and he feels a lot less guilty about it when he finds her and Anya curled up together in the mornings on Anya's dog bed in the living room, and Anya seems to sense when he needs a break, often trotting over and gently nudging Tofu to another part of the house to play.

But the only real relief Ilya gets is when they leave the house, so when Shane suggests they actually go to the gym instead of working out in their home, Ilya jumps at the opportunity.

He grabs an old and faded Bears t-shirt from the top of the clean laundry basket, and pulls it over his head before grabbing his gym bag and water bottle as he and Shane walk together out into the garage. He waits patiently for his nose to clear up, rolling the window of the Mercedes down and enjoying the still cool morning air.

When they get to the gym, he's slightly annoyed that he still feels stuffed up, but he ignores it, spotting Shane as he bench presses and then working his own muscles on several machines before cooling down with a run on the treadmill.

When he's finished, he takes off his shirt, rubbing it on his face as he heads to the showers. He thinks surely the hot water will help, but he barely steps in before he starts sneezing, earning a concerned look from Shane.

"You know there was cat hair all over the back of your shirt," Shane tells him after his fifth sneeze.

"What?" Ilya sputters. "How? It was in the clean basket."

"I found Tofu laying there yesterday. I think she liked how warm the clothes were fresh out of the dryer."

And Ilya can't really blame her for that. He also really liked warm clothes from the dryer, especially since Shane keeps their home at around eighteen degrees, claiming it was the prime temperature for both sleeping and productivity. Whatever the fuck that meant.

"It was not my shirt, Shane," Ilya tries to cajole, but Shane doesn't look convinced.

They finish their showers, Ilya making a point not to make eye contact with Shane even though he can feel Shane's eyes on him the entire time.

"I think you're allergic to her," Shane says as they dress in clean clothes, that thankfully are devoid of any cat hair, and the sadness from when Shane first had the thought is back on his face and breaking Ilya's heart. "We should probably go see a doctor. I could ask Lisa Hayes what she thinks."

"I'm not allergic to her, and I don't need to see a doctor," Ilya promises, taking in a breath and hoping some kind of scent hits his nose that he can blame this on, grateful when it hits him. "It's the cologne in here. You know I'm sensitive to it."

Shane's eyes narrow. "You have the biggest collection of cologne of anyone I know."

Goddammit, why does Shane have to know him so well?!

"Yes, but someone used way too much in here," Ilya says. "Like I always say, less is more."

Shane's head pops out of his own t-shirt. "I've literally never heard you say that."

"Maybe you should pay more attention to me, then."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's exactly what you need. More attention," Shane says with a roll of his eyes, but it doesn't hide the smile that's turning up the corners of his mouth.

"Always," he answers as he bends down to grab his bag. "Now, what do you say we drop by the foundation and take your mom to lunch, hmm? And then afterwards we could take a walk by the canal and maybe see if Troy and Harris want to have dinner?"

All safe and cat free choices that hopefully keep them out of the house long enough for it to be almost bedtime by the time they get home.

Shane eyes him questioningly for a moment, and Ilya almost thinks he's going to say more, but instead, he shrugs, and takes Ilya's hand. "Sure. Sounds good."

Later that night as he pulls the laundry from the dryer, his Bears shirt now clean and unable to close his airways, Tofu jumps on top of the dryer meowing at him as he holds the shirt to his chest protectively.

"This is mine, you adorable little shedding dander factory death trap," he hisses but she continues to make noise, sounding more and more pathetic the longer he refuses to hand it over. "You've already taken my ability to breathe like a normal person, what more do you want from me?"

Tofu begins to rub against his arm, her back arching as she seeks to be petted, and Ilya sighs, unable to resist her easily given affection no matter how much he wants to be annoyed. "Fine," he says, laying the shirt down on top of the basket, watching as she jumps down and immediately curls up and starts to purr. "But that's the last thing you take from me, do you understand?"

She ignores him, only pausing the grooming of her paw to give Ilya a look when he loudly sneezes as he backs out of the room.

"Holy fuck, Hollander," Ilya moans, his head rolling back with a thud into the headboard as Shane sinks down onto him, his hips already beginning to move in a rolling motion that has Ilya seeing stars.

They don't normally fuck like this, with Shane in his lap, clutching at each other like they're the only lifeline left in the world, but Ilya's barely been able to be close to Shane in days, let alone touch him like this, and he needs it so much, needs to feel like they're sharing skin, and he can't think of anything else but pulling Shane impossibly closer, his nails undoubtedly leaving marks on Shane's back.

Shane's fingers grip his hair, pulling his head back so he can lick into Ilya's mouth as he slowly and tantalizing grinds against Ilya, his cock brushing against Ilya's abs with every forward motion of his hips, leaving Ilya's stomach painted with pre-cum.

"Holy shit, I love you," Shane says breathlessly, and Ilya's about to respond in kind when he feels something thump on the bed. He opens his eyes and sees Tofu there, staring at him intently for a moment before climbing onto the pillow next to them and laying down.

They'd accidentally left the door open.

Fuck he thinks both in response to the cat and Shane's involuntary squeeze around him, but Shane doesn't seem to notice and Ilya tries his best to ignore the cat's presence. Unfortunately for everyone involved, his body's immune system has other plans and before he knows it, his eyes are watering to the point where tears are starting to fall.

He buries his face in Shane's neck, hoping that it'll hide what's happening, but Shane protests immediately.

"No," he whines and under any other circumstance Ilya would love how bratty he sounds. "Need to look at you." And he lifts Ilya's face back up, his mouth dropping open when he notices Ilya's red, watery eyes.

"Baby, what's—" he pants, his hips still moving like he's unable to completely stop himself, and then he finally notices the intruder. "Fuck, I left the door open." He reaches over and gently shoos her off the pillow, earning a scowl from the tiny being but she refuses to move because she's a fucking cat and why should she?

"Anya," Shane calls as best he can and Ilya hears her walking slowly up the stairs as he tries and fails to slow his heartbeat. She knows better than to come in the bedroom when they're like this, and she warily looks around the doorframe when she reaches their room. The sight of her would make Ilya laugh if he wasn't about to die from allergens and lack of fucking Shane Hollander silly for days on end. "Anya, come here girl, take Tofu downstairs, please."

Anya walks to the bed and jumps up onto it, nosing at Tofu until she gets up from the pillow her voicing her displeasure as Anya gently knocks her from the bed to the floor. Tofu trots out of the room and Anya follows her, giving Ilya and Shane a look that screams, 'as if I don't deal with enough,' before she leaves them alone once again.

Shane sighs, his hands moving once again to Ilya's hair, forcing Ilya's head back to look at him as his chest still heaves from a mixture of pleasure and effort. "Are you still going to try and convince me you're not allergic to her?"

"I'm not," Ilya pants because he can't really breathe through his nose but also because he's desperate to keep going and stop talking about a cat when they really should be fucking each other until they cry. Speaking of…

"Is because sex too good," he offers, and it's maybe the most ineloquent he's sounded in years, but he can't bring himself to care, his hand leaving its grip on Shane's thigh to graze over the still dripping slit of his cock.

"Oh, fuck me," Shane whimpers, his hips resuming their movement as Ilya makes a fist for him to fuck into. He throws his head back and Ilya leans forward again, but this time not to bury his face, but to bite at the juncture of his shoulder and neck. Shane stutters on, "Y-you really want me to believe you're—fuck— crying because the sex is too good?"

"You really want me to believe you couldn't cry at how good this is?" Ilya counters but Shane doesn't respond, just kisses him again until they both sticky and spent.

And as Ilya stands in the shower afterwards, letting Shane run his soapy hands up and down Ilya's body while the steam clears his beleaguered nose, he's never been more glad to have a sex life worthy of crying over.

The next evening they make their way to Zane Boodram's house for a barbecue with all the team that's in town during the late summer. Ilya's been looking forward to it all week, mostly because he loves spending time with his friends, but also because the Boodram's house is a cat free zone.

He takes in a deeper breath of air than he's had all week, enjoying the smells of Bood's cooking as the back deck is filled with conversation and laughter from some of the people he loves and cherishes the most. He goes to stand by Shane smiling at him as he pretends to be interested in whatever social media scheme Harris is telling him about.

Harris finally seems to notice Shane's waning attention and excuses himself to go grab another drink, Troy trailing after him as always, and Shane turns to Ilya, his eyes searching Ilya's face, looking for something Ilya's not sure of.

"What?" Ilya asks, taking a drink of his beer. "Did you forget how attractive I am and now you're trying to remind yourself?"

Shane pushes at his arm. "No, asshole. Just noticing that you're not sneezing or coughing and that your eyes aren't watering."

Ilya sighs. He loves that Shane knows him so well. That he's observant enough to notice when Ilya is and isn't having some kind of allergic reaction. But he also just really wishes Shane would leave it alone so Ilya could let his husband keep the goddamn cat he found without it being a thing.

"I'm not doing this again, Shane," he sighs. "I'm not allergic to the cat. I've told you a hundred times."

"Lisa's right over there, why don't we go talk to her? Just see what she thinks," Shane says, beginning to move toward the benches on the porch before Ilya's hand reaches out to grab his wrist and stop him.

"Shane, don't," he says seriously, knowing full well that Lisa will confirm Shane's fears and ruin his sacrifice. She's brilliant and mostly immune to Ilya's charms, there's no way he'll win this if she's involved, and he has to win this. He has to let Shane keep the cat. "I've told you I'm fine. I mean it, now would you please leave it alone?"

"Fine," Shane mumbles. "I'm going to get another drink, do you want something?"

"Sure," Ilya says and Shane starts to walk off still in the direction that Lisa Hayes is sitting. "Drinks are in the other direction, Hollander."

Shane stops and turns back, glowering at clearly being caught trying to tattle on Ilya to a medical professional.

Once Shane has fully walked past him, Ilya glances over and sees a plate of Bood's spiciest chicken sitting and ready to be eaten. An idea forms in his mind as he quickly moves toward it, reaching for a piece, devouring it in four bites and quickly tossing the bone into a trashcan to hide the evidence. It doesn't take long before his mouth is on fire and he starts to cough a bit, sputtering as his eyes water.

"Look," he motions to his eyes between coughs when Shane gets back and hands Ilya another beer. "It's happening here, too. Maybe I am just allergic to Ottawa."

"You've lived here for four years," Shane deadpans, "and you're just now becoming allergic?"

"Well, you know I am exceptional at a lot of things," Ilya offers. "Maybe developing allergies is one of them."

"To an entire city?" he says so loudly that several heads turn toward them, leaving Shane smiling tightly back in a poor attempt at reassurance. It's then he notices the plate spicy chicken behind Ilya and his eyes narrow. "You just ate a bunch of that chicken, didn't you?"

"No," Ilya replies, because it's not expressly true. He didn't eat a bunch of it. He ate one piece. It's not his fault Shane is vastly overestimating his spice tolerance.

He watches as a variety of emotions cross Shane's face. From complete frustration to annoyance and finally settling on worry. "Ilya, I'm really concerned about you. Something is obviously affecting you, and I want to figure it out."

Ilya steps forward, his hands coming up to cradle Shane's face as his thumbs stroke over the soft skin of his cheeks. "Sweetheart, I'm fine, I promise you. It's just some sneezing and sometimes my stunning eyes water—

"And you've been snoring," Shane interjects.

"—that's a slanderous lie," Ilya says because he has to, but if he's honest he has no doubt he's been snoring considering how stopped up his nose is all the time. "But I'm okay. I would tell you if I wasn't. I love our terribly named cat, and I'm definitely not allergic to her."

He feels Shane's exhale against his hands, and while he doesn't look fully convinced, Ilya can see the fight's over for now. "Okay, but if one more thing happens, we're going to the doctor," he tells Ilya, and Ilya hums in agreement, not at all sure how he's going to manage that considering he's suffering on the daily, but that's a problem for future Ilya.

Present Ilya just really needs to kiss Shane Hollander.

He moves closer, drawing Shane in with him as he lightly bumps Shane's nose with his, absolutely enthralled by freckles and pouting lips. "You're so beautiful," he says and Shane's breathy laugh fans across Ilya's face.

"You're trying to distract me," Shane replies.

"Is it working?" Ilya whispers, placing a kiss to the edge of Shane's mouth.

"Yes," Shane says simply and Ilya goes to kiss him properly when Zane calls to him from the porch.

"Hey, Roz! Can you stop trying to seduce your husband for a second and come help me with this steak?"

Ilya laughs and a bright blush creeps up Shane's neck, spreading out underneath this freckles. "Sure thing," Ilya replies, pecking Shane's lips and forcing himself to walk away.

The rest of the evening is blissfully cat argument free, and Ilya soaks up every bit of it, glad that it's laid to rest.

It's very much not laid to rest when the next morning Ilya awakens to a weight on his chest. He tries to open his eyes, but finds it difficult to do so, almost as if they're swollen shut. He reaches up and pats lightly at the weight that's on top of him, sure that it isn't Shane or Anya, and when his fingers are met with soft kitten fur, he's knows he's absolutely fucked.

"Shit," he hisses, hoping it's quiet enough not to wake Shane, but Shane has always been a light sleeper, and no sooner has the 't' sound left his mouth, Shane is awake and panicking.

"Oh, my god, Ilya," he says, voice shaking. "Your eyes. Tofu, you've got to get out of here, sweet girl. Fuck, where's my phone?" He starts pawing around on the bed trying to find it as Ilya sits up, displacing the cat, and he watches through what little he can see out of his eyes as she trots out of the open door and into the hallway like she hasn't just caused his entire life to blow up by merely existing.

They'd been so tired when they got home from Bood's the night before that they had forgotten to close the bedroom door.

"Oh my god, your face." Shane laments as he momentarily stops looking for his phone. "Can you breathe?"

"Hmm, let me see," Ilya says flatly, taking in an exaggerated breath through his mouth. "Yeah, I think I'm good."

"Okay, well, don't look in the mirror. Seriously, fuck, where is my phone?" Shane asks again, voice rising with each word.

"Why do you need your phone?" Ilya asks, and it's then that Shane finds it, but his hands are so unsteady that he nearly drops it.

"Because I'm texting Lisa now," he says and Ilya audibly groans, remember the promise he'd made the night before.

If one more thing happens, we're going to the doctor.

"I really don't think that's necessary," Ilya says while Shane pulls a t-shirt over his head and tosses one to Ilya on the bed. "Lisa sees kids. We can just go see Terry. He will help."

"No, absolutely not. That man likes you way too much, and I know you'll find some way to weasel your way out of this," Shane snaps and he's not wrong. Their team doctor has always had a soft spot Ilya. It's why he suggested going to him in the first place.

"Lisa likes me, too," Ilya counters as he gets out of bed and puts on the shirt Shane's given him.

"Yes, but she's not charmed by you. She'll tell you you're being a fucking idiot," Shane says, and Ilya knows it's the truth. It's why he'd been so against talking to her the night before. "So either we go see Lisa or I'm calling 911 and you can explain to the hot fireman why the fuck you look like a bee stung you in the face fourteen times because you refuse to admit you're allergic to a fucking cat!"

He's beginning to sound a bit unhinged, so Ilya doesn't push back any more, and when he begins to pull on his pants, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror that sits over the chest of drawers against the far wall.

"Oh wow. Fuck," he says as takes in what he can of his face. His eyelids are angry and red, and the skin around his eyes is so swollen, it's no wonder he can barely see out of them.

"Now do you believe me that you need to go see a doctor?"

As his puffy face continues to stare back at him, it's mostly Ilya's vanity that finally answers, "Yes."

When the arrive to the office of Dr. Lisa Hayes, Ilya's limited vision is accosted by bright colors and an overabundance of toys. The brilliant doctor being a pediatrician by trade, they shouldn't technically be here, but Lisa is always generous with her time and knowledge, and Ilya can only imagine what the text Shane had sent to her this morning had said if she told them to come in right away.

They wait in the waiting room with little fanfare until a young girl around ten years old spots them and loudly whispers to her mom that "That's Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov."

Her mother looks at them in confusion before politely telling her daughter to, "Stop staring, honey, that man is clearly going through something."

And if only they knew how true that is. Here Ilya sits in a doctor's office meant for children being gawked at, all because he simply wants his husband to be happy and keep the adorable kitten that had chosen them in the sweetest of ways. Who is he to question the Cat Distribution System? Afterall, Tofu fits seamlessly into their lives, except for this one stupid and now very swollen issue, and Ilya can't help the sinking feeling in his chest that grows every time Shane shifts uncomfortably in the chair next to him.

He's staring intently at his phone, typing furiously as he bites at his lip so hard, Ilya's amazed he hasn't drawn blood. "What are you doing?"

"Searching for re-homing cat groups. I thought about asking my parents to take him, but then you'd never be able to go to their house, and my dad wold be devastated by that, so that's a no go. But from everything I'm reading it's notoriously hard to find new homes for them. Tofu's a kitten so at least she has that going for her, but—" he stops himself and takes in a stumbling breath, and it's then that Ilya sees he's nearly on the verge of tears.

"Shane," Ilya says softly, that sinking feeling shifting growing even more.

"Do you think Svetlana might want a cat? She doesn't really strike me as a pet person, but at least then she'd be with someone we know, and I bet she'd do it for us. But then we'd have to get her across the border. Fuck, I bet that's a nightmare, let me do some digging."

"Sweetheart," Ilya says, reaching out to take Shane's phone from him and grabbing one his hands to thread their fingers together as Shane looks at him with watery eyes. "We're not getting rid of the cat."

"But what choice do we have?" Shane says in a broken voice Ilya hasn't heard from him since they were outed two years before. "You can't live like this all the time. I—

It's then that Lisa peeks her head out a door and beckons them back, leading them to a room with an elevated table that Ilya hops up onto without being asked. Lisa washes her hands before she takes one look a Ilya and shakes her head in fond exasperation.

"You want to tell me what's going on here?"

"Shane thinks I am allergic to our cat," Ilya offers up, his tone indicating that it's the most ridiculous thing in the world, because he's not one to give up, and maybe, just maybe today is the day Lisa will be 'charmed' by him. "Can you please tell him I'm not allergic to our cat?"

She steps toward him, practiced fingers touching lightly against his allergy battered face. "Ilya Rozanov you are most definitely allergic to your cat," she says flatly, and when he glares at her, her facade cracks a bit as a smile quirks up one side of her mouth.

"Traitor," Ilya mumbles, and Lisa raises an eyebrow at him as if daring him to say it again. He shrinks back a bit on the table, crossing his arms defensively. "Okay, so maybe I am allergic to cats, so what? It's not a big deal."

"Your face is telling a very different story," she opposes and Ilya rolls his eyes. At least he thinks he does. He's not really sure how much they can actually move, but he does manage to catch sight of Shane, who's sitting in a chair leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands buried in his hair.

"So, we have to get rid of her, then?" he asks quietly, and Ilya's fairly certain he's not looking up at them because he's close to crying again.

"Yes, I think we should get rid of Dr. Hayes," Ilya says with a wink, desperate to try and lighten the mood for Shane as Lisa flips him off with a smile as bright as her mind.

"No, the cat, Ilya," Shane says, and it's clear Ilya hasn't succeeded when he lifts his head and a tear rolls down his face, dripping from his chin into his lap. "We're going to have to find her another home."

"Sweetheart, I—"

"God, you two are a match made in heaven, aren't you," Lisa laughs, cutting Ilya off as they both turn their heads in her direction. "You," she says pointing to Ilya, "pretending like there's no problem while you're actively suffering, and you," this time she points toward Shane, "assuming the absolute worst before you've even tried even the most obvious of solutions." She turns back to Ilya. "Did you even take a single antihistamine?"

"Uh, w-well," Ilya stumbles, embarrassed because while the thought had briefly crossed his mind, he's not usually one to take medication unless it's absolutely necessary. "I had considered it."

"For fuck's sake," she sighs before her face instantly lightens. "God, it's nice to be able to say 'fuck.' That's one downside to working with children. But then I have man children showing up at my practice, so the Universe provides I guess."

Ilya supposes that's fair.

"I mean this with all the love in the world, but you two are idiots," Lisa says, removing a prescription pad from her pocket as she begins to scribble on it.

"So, we don't have to get rid of the cat?" Shane asks hopefully.

Lisa rips off a prescription and hands it to Ilya before she leans against the wall across from them. "I'm not saying it's not a possibility, but very rarely can we not manage symptoms where everyone has a happy outcome."

"So, what do I need to do?" Ilya asks looking up from the paper in his hands, more than willing to do whatever is necessary to make this work.

"Well," Lisa says, her eyes warm and fond yet full of absolutely deserved patronizing. "We come up with a plan."

They climb back into the car twenty minutes later, a freshly antihistamined Ilya adorned with an 'I was a brave boy at the doctor' sticker on his shirt and an sour apple flavored sucker in his mouth, while Shane sits in the driver's seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel though he makes no move to pull out of the parking lot as he stares straight ahead.

"Do we need to go back inside?" Ilya asks with a gentle tease, expecting Shane to snip back at him with a smile, but instead, Shane starts to cry again. "I'm sure Lisa could find it in herself to help one more man-child today."

It startles Ilya so much all he can manage to say is a soft, "Hey," as he reaches across the center console to pull Shane into him as best he can. It's rare for Shane to cry, and it's not the he doesn't feel deeply. He knows Shane loves and cares just as much as Ilya does, but he's a master at rationalizing what he feels, often compartmentalizing it because it's easier to deal with when things get to be too much.

But as much as Ilya hates to see him upset, he's grateful that they've come far enough in their relationship that Shane can cry in front of him. That he feels safe enough in Ilya's presence to let go a bit of his more overwhelming emotions. Even if Ilya has a growing suspicion he might be responsible for it this time.

"Why would you do that?" Shane accuses, but he thankfully doesn't pull away. Just sinks into Ilya's shoulder while Ilya rubs at his back.

"Do what, my love?"

"Pretend everything is fine for all that time," Shane says through a stuttering breath. "Act like you weren't suffering when you clearly were."

"Because you were so happy and you love Tofu so much," Ilya replies. "I didn't want to take that away from you."

Shane goes still for a second and Ilya worriedly pulls back from him to find a frustrated and determined expression on Shane's face that Ilya is far more used to than the tears. And when it comes out, he knows he's usually in trouble. "Of course I love Tofu, but you know what I love more?"

"Shane, I—"

"You, you gigantic dumbass," Shane spits out, but he still stays close to Ilya, and Ilya clings to that as a good sign while his husband continues to ream him out. "In what fucking world would I care about a cat over your well-being?"

"Well, I don't know, she is very cute and sweet," Ilya says, once again hoping to insert some humor into the situation but Shane doesn't take the bait.

"Of course she is, she's our cat," he snaps back. "But you're the most important thing in the world to me, Ilya. You have to know that by now."

"Yes, I do, and you are the most important thing in the world to me," Ilya emphasizes. "I would do anything to make sure you are happy, and Tofu makes you happy. The cat and inexplicably the food, too. I couldn't ruin that for you."

Shane huffs and shakes his head, and Ilya thinks he might be about to yell at him. But instead, he takes Ilya's face into his hands and squeezes his cheeks so that Ilya is forced to look at him. "How could you possibly ruin anything for me when you're fucking everything to me?"

Ilya blows out a breath to try and steady himself. He knows how much Shane loves him, has known for years, but hearing him say it so fiercely always hits him in places that so often remain closed and locked away to anyone but Shane. He feels the sting of tears, and all he can manage to say is, "Shane."

Shane holds on to his face brushing at the tear that slips out before Ilya even realizes it's fallen. "All of this could go away tomorrow. Our house, our careers, our money, the pets, all of it, I wouldn't care, because I have you."

A choked sounding laugh leaves Ilya's mouth. "I think you would care a little bit," he says and finally, finally Shane smiles back.

"I mean yeah, I would miss the in-home massages and, you know, access to basically whatever I want whenever I want it, but I know I'd be okay as long as I have you."

"Sappy," Ilya tries to deflect, but when Shane starts to glower, he quickly adds, "It's the same for me."

"I appreciate you putting up with all of that for me, but you don't have to. Ever. Just fucking tell me and we'll figure it out."

"Alright," Ilya concedes, and while he doesn't regret his actions the last week or so, he'd be lying if he tried to say there's not infinite relief in Shane telling him it'll be okay. That even if shitty things happen, they'll be alright. "I won't try to hide it from you anymore. I'm sorry I did, I just wanted you to have you wanted."

"I do," Shane says with a conviction that's impossible to deny. "And yeah, I'm really glad we have a plan and Tofu will get to stay, but even if she couldn't, even if this doesn't work and you're still suffering, I wouldn't love you any less. There's literally nothing that could do that, you absolute perfect idiot of a man."

Ilya nods in reply as best he can with his face still sandwiched between Shane's hands because he does, even if his brain and his heart tell him different things sometimes. Which leads him to ask with a flutter of his unnaturally large eyelids, "You still love me even with this face?"

Shane's laugh comes out as a snort, his shoulders shaking while he leans forward and kisses Ilya's mouth. "Absolutely. Though in the spirit of our newfound honesty, I'm really glad it's not permanent."

"Shane Hollander, you shallow son of a bitch." Ilya nips at his nose playfully, before he says, "And in the spirit of our newfound honesty, I feel like I should tell you I am not allergic to lizards, and I never had one in Boston or gave it to Cliff."

"Thank god," Shane breathes, the palpable relief on his face making it clear he's been worried about Mr. Hamster. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," Ilya professes for probably the ten thousandth time, always glad to know it feels the same and yet completely different than the very first time he'd said it, but still full to the brim of the same meaning. "Now let's go get the most expensive air filters our money can buy."

Shane Hollander loves his life. He's married to the perfect man. He gets to play hockey for a living and he's really fucking good at it. He's on a team that values him as a person and a player, and he gets to do it all with that perfect man by his side. And on top of all that, they have the sweetest princess of a dog and the world's most adorable cat. They're a family, and Shane wouldn't have it any other way.

And sure, it wasn't easy getting there. They've certainly had their share of ups and downs. Including most recently when Tofu, the world's most adorable cat entered their lives, Ilya spent the better part of two weeks pretending he wasn't allergic to her. But once he finally came clean and a plan was set into motion, things have been infinitely better.

Ilya is now on several medications to help his body cope with the symptoms of being allergic to their cat, and after a few days of mild drowsiness, where he mostly just lounged on top of Shane all day, he bounces back like a champ. There's now a HEPA filter in every room of the house, constantly running to remove any dander from the air, and Shane vacuums at least one a day to help remove anything that lingers in the carpets and on the furniture. They also establish pet free zones, most importantly their bedroom, and along with a new adjustable bed that allows Ilya to sleep with an elevated head, his breathing at night is back to almost normal.

"You know for a free cat, you are very expensive," Ilya tells Tofu when Shane brings in her fancy food that's supposed to help reduce the amount of allergens she produces.

Shane can't help the grin he has at the sight of the two of them so close together without Ilya sneezing his head off. "She's just trying to catch up to Anya and all her trips to the dog spa."

It's not perfect, but things are so much better, and they have a follow up with an allergist in a few weeks for further testing to see if Ilya would be a good candidate for shots, and Shane's so relieved about it that he doesn't even try to fight Ilya about starting an Instagram for Tofu that's already amassed several thousand followers. He also doesn't fight the 'cat dad' shirt Ilya makes him wear or the 'big sister' bandana Anya proudly sports on walks. Shane barely even finds it annoying when they get stopped all over the neighborhood to ask if they're expecting a baby.

He'll never admit it, but he's actually pretty proud of how cute everyone thinks she is, and Ilya is convinced that the right video of her and Anya could break the internet. As if they needed to do that again considering their history, but whatever. He's so fucking happy, he can't really bring himself to care.

They're cuddled on the couch together one night about a month after their visit to Lisa Hayes when they both receive a text from Cliff Marlow.

"Why is Cliff texting us?" Shane asks and Ilya, who's using Shane's lap as a pillow while Tofu lays on his chest.

"I don't know, why don't you open it and find out?"

Shane covers his eyes and sighs deeply. "We're really going to have to go visit him and do a well-fare check on that poor lizard aren't we?"

Ilya smirks up at him, Tofu dozing on his chest as he strokes her soft fur. "Yep."

"How the hell do I get myself into these situations?" Shane questions, his head hitting the back of the couch, lightly thunking against the wall behind him.

"I have no idea," Ilya says, his smirk growing as Shane looks back down at him in a glare.

"Oh, really? You have no idea?"

"Nope," Ilya replies, popping the last syllable obnoxiously. "Because I think you are exactly where you want to be, Shane Hollander."

And that changes him, his annoyance instantly gone as his expression melts into something soft and disgustingly in love. He bends down and kisses Ilya's mouth, his hair falling into his eyes. And as Ilya reaches up to brush it behind his ears, Tofu meowing at them in irritation, Shane answers, "You know what, Ilya Rozanov? I think you're right."